Chapter 11

(A/N) Thanks for all the reviews! As I have an article for my school newspaper due in a few days, you won't be seeing me update this for a while. And, about Mr. Potter… he gets better in a later appearance in the story (much, much later appearance). This one's long, and it only took me a while to get it up!

Disclaimer: I own the plot, and Sirius owns his love for candy and childishness.

*~*~*~*~*

"Patty cake, patty cake, baker's man, bake me a cake as fast as you can-"

"Uh, Sirius?" James frowned at his friend, playing a hand game with no person in particular. "While I'm sure that's a very entertaining thing, could you refrain from doing that? Snape's starting to get an evil glint in his eye, and I think he's getting ideas that involve you and St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo?" Sirius frowned. "Oh, I've never heard of him. There was Peter, there was Valentine, there was Michael, there was Andrew, and I think there was a Joan of Arc, but I don't remember a Mungo-"

Sirius stopped, and shrugged. "Oh, well. I may be wrong."

James rolled his eyes.

"Excuse me," a girl with brown hair and hazel eyes stood before James, "I couldn't help noticing, was that man your father?"

"Yes," James replied stiffly. "Yes, he was."

"He looks like the Minister of Ma-" suddenly (almost magically), she stopped talking and walked back to her seat.

"What was that all about?" Sirius asked.

"No idea," James said, returning to his bowl of now soggy cereal.

*~*~*~*~*

James retreated to the Common Room, a few hours before the Ball.

He hadn't participated in most of the day's pranks, and had advised the Marauders not to prank either, for his father always seemed to be close by. The presence of his father was always unexpected, and James had the vague idea that he was using the invisibility cloak to keep a watch at his son's activities.

After making sure that his father was, indeed, in his room signing contracts and looking over important matters at work, James walked into the Common Room, fully ready for release from the criticism he often received when with his father.

And yet…

"Hello, James Potter."

James didn't turn. He knew the voice, had known it since first year, and it didn't look forward to facing the owner of the voice.

"Evans," he nodded, slowly turning. "What, exactly, are you doing in on a fine Christmas Eve afternoon such as this one?"

"I could ask the same of you," she said calmly. "However, whereas it's quite common for me to be in here, it's more questionable as to why you're here. Shouldn't you be with your friends, terrorizing the wits out of little first years?"

James bit down a long stream of insults, knowing that his father could probably hear if he called her one of the many words he had in mind. "No, Evans. I'm preoccupied at the moment."

"Preoccupied with what, exactly?" Lily asked, still calmly. "It appears to me that you have nothing better to do than to sit around and mope, and, dare I say, act your age ever since the arrival of your father."

"Yes," James snapped testily. "I am existing, and it takes a great deal of effort to do, so please kindly allow me to exist in peace."

"Oh, but I do enjoy corrupting one's happy existence," Lily said. "I trust you won't mind if I exist, breath, and display my sense of intelligence by reading a book in your presence?"

James wasn't in the mood of debating with her. This Christmas Eve was proving to be a disappointing one, and he wasn't quite looking forward to the morrow, either.

"Your display of intelligence, Evans?" James laughed. "I disagree."

"Now there's a laugh," Lily replied. "Like you are? Please, Potter. We all know you've got Professor McGonagall wrapped around your little finger. However fooled you may have the professors, the fact doesn't escape me that you are a selfish, spoiled brat, who appears to think that the student population is absolutely taken by his charms and can't tell the difference between a Befuddling Charm and a Confusing Charm."

"Can I help it if the entire student body would rather watch me than see the sight of your ugly face?"

"Not the entire student body, Potter," Lily said cooly. "Just the swooning, ditzy, mentally-lacking group of girls who follow you around like a pack of lost puppies."

"Oh, and anyone prefers you to me aside from your boring, bland, semi-ignorant group of suitors who follow you around the school? And I must note, they all have the same characteristics, and you wouldn't be able to tell one from the other, based on their personalities. If I didn't know any better, I would say you photocopied a single person and turned them all into gits who are brainwashed to follow you around."

"Oh, yes. Each and every day, as soon as I wake, I grab a random guy out of the halls and make an exact copy of him. I never thought anyone would catch me," Lily said sarcastically.

"I'm sure you do," James said cooly. "Where do you stash all the useless prototypes? They can't be of any use to you after you've drained their personality into mindless copies, can they?"

"Likewise, Potter. Do any of those girls in your fan club think for themselves? I'm sure it's all they can do to choose an outfit without worrying what everyone else thinks of it. Which is certainly a pity, since we all have the same uniform," Lily said. "I'm sure the dears are a mess, now that we can dress however we'd like at winter holidays."

"I'm not going to waste my time arguing with you, Evans," James said, walking off. "Good afternoon."

Lily stared after him, in a deep chamber of her mind wondering why she hated the sight of him so much. Unbeknownst to her, he was doing the same thing.

*~*~*~*~*

"Hi, dad," James greeted, not at all trying to sound sincere.

Mr. Potter looked up from his papers. "Excuse me?"

"Hello, dad."

"Incorrect."

"Good afternoon, sir," James answered dutifully, mentally smacking himself on the head for forgetting.

"Same to you, James. May I ask what brings you here?" his father frowned. "I'm in the middle of something important, and I cannot be disrupted. However, as you are here, I should like to know why."

"I came in here because I wanted to ask if you would be at the Ball. And to give you and mother my Christmas present," James said, holding out two brightly wrapped boxes, one smaller than the other.

"I will see if I can go, James. I told you that. No need to remind me of it, Albus Dumbledore already did several times," his father said dismissively. "As for your presents, I'll take them now. Your mother's friend, Gazella, Gallea, Ezzella-"

"Gailea, dad," James said.

"Right. She wanted me to give you her present while I was here. And Denise Walker, a daughter of one of my colleagues, sends her greetings and looks forward to meet you when the summer is over. She's about your age, I should think."

"Is she pretty?"

Mr. Potter sighed. "I would say so."

"Is she petite?"

"Yes."

"Is she dressed in pink dresses all the time?"

"She wears purple occasionally," Mr. Potter said. "What does it matter?"

James ignored his father's question. "Is she blonde?"

"Natural blonde, in fact."

"Is she polite?"

"Very good manners."

"Can she answer questions well?"

"Of course, her father has sent her to several Charm Schools," Mr. Potter frowned.

"Well," James asked, "Is she any different from Sherry, Angela, Michelle, Sarah, Ana, Theresa, Camilla, Estelle, or Amanda?"

"Now, James, I don't think that's fair-"

"I'm not interested in the witless type, dad," James said simply. "And the witless type is the kind of girl you appear to enjoy seeing me with."

"Fine, fine. Choose one of those girls that follow you around all the time. They're quite taken to you, it seems," his father said impatiently.

"Every single one of them is a swooning, ditzy, mentally-lacking girl without a mind of her own, and follows me around like a lost-"

James stopped abruptly. Lily had said that. He hated it when she was right.

"Well, James, it appears to me that the smarter girls aren't quite as attracted by mere good looks and money. Your mother was an exception. What kind of girl do you like?"

"Someone who actually realizes I have a mind, dad," James said. "Or, maybe someone who has a mind and doesn't need mine to make choices for them. Someone who won't agree with every thing I say. Perhaps questions me once in a while. Every single girl you've ever set me up with has asked me if they look good, or if they should eat the salad with or without the carrots, and the minute I say no, they ask me what I want them to do."

"So in other words, someone who doesn't like you?" Well, it seems that all the girls in this school are polite, witty, and can carry a polite, proper conversation. However, you don't like one of them. And I guarantee you that not one of them fits your description."

"One does," James said softly.

"And who is that lucky girl?"

James didn't answer. However, the howling wind outside of the window seemed to be whispering "Li-lee, Li-lee, Li-lee."

*~*~*~*~*

About half an hour before the ball, there was a quick rapping on the door.

James looked up, but Mr. Potter did not. "Come in," he said, not glancing once from his table of papers.

"Potter, you should-" Lily stopped, seeing James' father.

"Yes?" James asked in a strangled sort of voice.

"Professor Dumbledore wants us to be at the Grand Hall in twenty minutes," she said politely, glancing at Mr. Potter, who had finally looked up from his papers to get a good look at her.

"An you are…?" he frowned, standing up to meet her.

"Lily Evans, sir. I'm the Head Girl," she said.

"Head Girl. Good, then you should be smart."

"I like to think that I am, sir," Lily said. "However, that's just my opinion."

"Do you think for yourself?"

"I prefer that to someone telling me what to do, though I wouldn't fail to listen to instructions," Lily said. Why was this man asking her such questions?

"How long would it take you to debate whether or not you should have carrots in your salad?"

These questions were getting a bit ridiculous. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'd like to know why I'm answering these questions."

Mr. Potter turned around. "Well, James, there you are. She fits the description, doesn't she?"

James groaned and hit his head on the wall behind his father.

"Excuse my son and his manners, Miss Evans," Mr. Potter extended a hand for her to shake. "He seems to be busy…"

"Existing," Lily said helpfully.

"Quick thinker, you are," Mr. Potter nodded. She couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing by the way he said it. "I am Mr. James Potter Senior, by the way. James' father. We were just discussing-"

"Dad, please, I'd rather not discuss this right now," James said.

Lily gave him a quick look that clearly said, I'll find out later, even if you don't tell me.

"Remind me why you're here, Miss Evans?" James' father asked.

"Professor Dumbledore would like to see us in the Grand Hall in twenty minutes, sir," Lily repeated herself. "Oh, and to drop off James' Christmas present."

"Thank you," James said, in a strained voice. "I'll get yours."

"You might want to dress up," she called after him.

Mr. Potter turned his attention back to her. "Tell me, is my son a good student?"

Lily paused. Just out of spite, she could say no, which would leave James in deep trouble. Still… "Excellent student, sir."

"Good. Is it true what he says? That the girls that follow him are a group of, how did he put it, swooning, ditzy, mentally-lacking group of girls, who-"

"Follow him around like a pack of lost puppies," Lily finished for him.

"Exactly," Mr. Potter nodded.

"I wouldn't know," Lily said. "Find one and ask her."

"Miss Evans, are you going to prepare yourself? If you'd like my son to do so himself, I should like to see you ready, yourself."

Lily muttered a charm under her breath, and her uniform was instantly replaced with a white dress, strapped, sprinkled with sparkles, and a mesh-like material shawl, along with matching white shoes. Her hair was clipped back, in a half ponytail, the rest hanging freely down her back.

"Rea…dy," James looked at Lily. "When'd you change?"

"Charm," Lily said simply. "One far too advanced for you to get."

James inwardly rolled his eyes, though he didn't do it in the presence of his father. No matter how dressed up, Lily Evans was Lily Evans.

*~*~*~*~*

Gilderoy Lockhart smiled to himself as he spritzed himself briefly with an expensive cologne.

"Can't believe you snagged a date with her, mate," a fellow Hufflepuff next to him in front of the mirror said. "Lily Evans, whew! How'd you manage, when the rest o' us got turned down?"

"It's a simple matter," Gilderoy said, "I was simply so irresistible to her that she had to fall to my charms. Why, she practically begged me to ask her, and when I did, she accepted whole-heartedly."

The Hufflepuff looked at him skeptically, but didn't say anything. "I'm going with Anna DeLasseile. One of the richest girls in the school."

"And yet, not the prettiest, is she?" Gilderoy asked smugly, straightening his bow tie.

"She's fairly pretty," the boy argued.

"Besides," another boy said wryly, "Hemmonds got his date by asking her while she was paying attention, Lockhart."

Gilderoy didn't seem bothered. "Lily Evans was well aware of my question," he said stiffly.

"After she answered you," another boy sniggered.

"We all know she didn't want to go with you," Davey Hemmonds said. "You tricked her into it."

"I did no such thing!" Gilderoy cried out indignantly, dropping a can of hair spray on his foot.

"Well, she didn't look too happy, if you ask me," a boy across the room said. "Everyone knows that she and Potter have got the hots for each other."

"But she hates him!" Gilderoy said desperately.

"They say they do, but it's only a matter of time…"

"She was begging me to ask her out and when I did she was more than happy to oblige!" Gilderoy said quickly. "Why, she even let me pick out her dress for her!"

"You didn't give her a choice, mate," Davey said. "You left it with her and took off before she could argue."

Gilderoy glared at the others. They were Hufflepuffs, for goodness sakes! Weren't they supposed to be nice?

*~*~*~*~*

It was quite surprising to see Lily Evans walking into the Grand Hall escorted by James Potter.

The two even appeared to be having a pleasant conversation. Unless one got close enough to actually hear them.

"Potter, remind me why we're doing this?" Lily asked in a sugary sweet tone.

"Because my dad thought we were going together," James replied, in the same tone.

"Oh. As soon as we're out of his sight, can you get away from me?" she asked, smiling at him.

"He's here for the entire ball, Evans," James said, smiling pleasantly back. "Otherwise I'd have dropped you back in the Common Room."

"Oh? Remind me why you were stupid enough to invite him if he was going to make us play charades all night?" Lily asked, as he helped her into her chair.

"Because."

"Because why?" Lily's pleasant tone dropped.

"Because, because."

"Because, because why?"

"Because, because, because."

"Because, because, because why?"

"Because, because, bec-"

"Lily!" Gilderoy Lockhart's voice rang across the room. "Why aren't you wearing the dress I gave you?"

"Because."

"Because…?"

"Because it's really not… my type of style, Gilderoy," she said politely.

"Oh. Well, would you like to dance?" Gilderoy smiled at her.

Lily frowned. "Gilderoy, do you even know the waltz?"

"I taught it to myself when I was eight," he smiled. Lying through his teeth, James could tell.

"I'm sure," Lily murmured. "However, P- James and I have to open the dance with the waltz. Excuse us."

Gilderoy glared after the two, as he watched James whisper something in her ear, and she replied. Lily was supposed to be his date!

*~*~*~*~*

"Wow, you managed to call me by my first name," James whispered in her ear, hoping his father hadn't heard.

"Yes, and now that we're out of hearing distance, I resume to calling you 'Potter'," Lily said.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, students and professors, ghosts and goblins, cats and owls-"

"Albus!" McGonagall's shrill voice sounded. "Get to the point!"

Dumbledore smiled. "As I was saying, welcome to Hogwarts' hundred and fifth annual Christmas Ball! As usual, we have the prefects, teachers and Head Boy and Girl open the Ball, then everyone else gets to try their hand at not stepping on each other's feet."

McGonagall threw him a sharp look.

"In other words," Dumbledore continued, "Please give a round of applause to your professors, prefects, and Head Boy and Girl, as they have all worked very hard for this. Introducing…"

"Albus! The point!" McGonagall said.

"Patience, Minnie, patience."

Sirius grinned at the use of his nickname for the Transfiguration professor, and clapped.

"Thank you, Mr. Black," Dumbledore chuckled. "Introducing, your fellow students who have worked very hard and also helped decorate the very Grand, don't mind the pun, Hall you see before you now… Lily Evans and James Potter!"

Lily smiled, as did James. The crowd clapped politely, and their friends in the back cheered like maniacs. Sirius snapped a photo.

"It'll last longer," he whispered loudly enough for anyone within the span of thirty people. "And we'll have a picture of them smiling together to prove how good they look together."

Lily stuck out a foot quite gracefully and kicked him in the shin.

James shrugged, and the two swept over to the center of the floor, joined by prefects and staff. Soon, when everyone was in closed position, the band, made up of a group of large, clanking suits of armor, attempted to strike up a waltzing melody, one of them singing quite off-key.

James tuned out the horrible music and whispered to Lily, "My contribution." He pointed his wand at the band, and turned the suits of armor band, or, the Metal Clankers, as they had named their band, into a grand piano and piano player, with a stringed section and band section.

"Mr. Potter's contribution to the Ball," Dumbledore said to the students. "As you may know, the students and teachers are required to make one such contribution. The students are allowed to make their contribution at anytime before midnight."

James grinned as Lily stepped on his foot. Hard. "Payback," she said.

"For what?"

"Stepping on my feet."

James laughed softly and led them into a box step.

It would have been a perfect occasion had not Gilderoy Lockhart been watching from the side, looking quite jealous and casting nasty glances at James.

Mr. Potter wasn't really watching. He was observing the other girls at the ball, looking for one that stood out, one that both he and his son would like. The Head Girl appeared to be a nice young lady, but she was a bit too witty. Frowning, he directed his attention to his son and his dance partner. He had been quite sure that she would be a horrible dancer, though he had been proved wrong. The girl moved with a grace, and appeared to be familiar with the waltz. He wondered vaguely if there was anything going on between his son and the young vision in white.

Everyone else seemed to think so.

*~*~*~*~*

(A/N) DONE!!!!!!!!! That was a long chapter! More hints of L/J, I can tell you they still hate each other a lot. It goes to show how well they can fool everyone… even themselves. And for the L/J fans, be patient, it'll come out sooner or later, just later. Much later. It's long! Review, PLEASE!