Chapter 16

(A/N) Thanks for all the reviews! And to Lilyengraved: Yeah, the whole, "going-to-America" thing is getting old. I, unlike all those other people, though, am not using it as my plot. I'm using it for my plot. There's a reason for them going to America.

And to the rest of you guys: Thank you!!!!!!!!!! Such flattery! Thanks for being so patient. And, um, don't expect too much L/J fluff for another few chapters, as I can't have them saying "I hate you" one day, and "Marry me" the next. But we're getting somewhere; as you might be able to tell, James' feelings are starting to alter ever so slightly. Slightly. Very, very, very slightly.

Disclaimer: Hmph. I own the plot and nothing more.

*~*~*~*~*

Sirius Black glanced at the mail on his plate.

Junk mail, junk mail, Daily Prophet, letter from his mum, junk mail, junk mail, and… junk mail. Scanning the letter from his mum, he gathered that his little sister had fallen ill again. Hmm. Nothing out of the norm.

Sighing, he picked up the Daily Prophet and read the headlines. Another muggle attack.

"No news is good news," he said under his breath. That had to be the sixth muggle attack this week.

*~*~*~*~*

"Evans."

Looking up, Lily saw the familiar figure of James Potter. Backing away from the dusty old bookshelf of the even dustier library, she brushed off the dust on her hands and straightened.

"Potter," she nodded. "What brings you to the library? Hardly ever seen you in such a place."

"That's because I don't need to study to keep my grades up."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Right. Did you finish your Charms homework yet? Extra load," she said sarcastically.

"Yep. I just wrote the same thing I wrote when Professor Flitwick gave us the same assignment in third year," he nodded walking towards her. "So, pray do tell, why are you in the Defence Against Dark Arts Section?"

"I'm trying to find the oldest record of Dark Wizards," she murmured. "Apparently, they have a collection of diaries kept by Dark wizards over the years."

"Ugh," James frowned. "Who would want to collect that?"

"It would help those in the Ministry. Get into the mind of the criminal," she said, her eyes scanning the spines of books.

"You sound like something out of a murder mystery."

"There's no mystery about Voldemort."

*~*~*~*~*

Professor Albus Dumbledore peered over his glasses at the quidditch pitch, where the Ravenclaws versus Slytherin match was taking place.

Glancing back at the wall of quidditch trophies on his wall, his mind instantly jumped to James Potter. According to the reports sent in by the principle of the school in America, their Head Boy had been doing quite well. Lily, however…

He did feel sorry for that girl. The principle had written that she wasn't adjusting too well, though her academics were by far exceeding the standards set by the professors. She was, apparently, rejected by her peers for the same reasons she was accepted by her teachers.

Well, she would adjust. She had to adjust.

*~*~*~*~*

James grinned at a passing girl, who all but swooned right then and there.

"Hey, James, what's up?"

"The sky," he replied.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever, Potter. See you at dinner."

For a second, he sensed someone was watching him, but shook it off. Girls always watched him.

*~*~*~*~*

"Hi."

Lily didn't look up. Probably some other kid talking to some other kid, as usual.

"Hello, are you deaf? I said hi."

She still didn't look up. They probably were addressing someone else.

"Okay, not much of a talker, are you?"

Finally, she looked up. A boy, about her height, with sandy brown hair and brown eyes was staring at her.

"May I help you?"

"You're one of the exchange students, aren't you?" he asked, shifting his bookbag to another shoulder. "I'm Peter Grismire."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" she frowned. "Lily Evans, by the way."

"I know. You're in my Math class. Muggle math, I mean," he nodded.

Lily stared. "And…?"

"So, what do you think of Professor Minten?"

"I think he's unfit to be a teacher, gives out easy work, and is an incompetent human being in general."

"Cynical one, aren't you?"

"Quite right," she smiled sarcastically. "What do you think of him?"

"The same. My parents made me take the class only because it's standard for most students. I tutor, really; I'm ahead of practically everyone in the class," he shrugged. "Mr. Minten isn't the best teacher we've every had, but he's better than some."

"Why are you talking to me?"

Peter grinned. "Fair enough. I noticed you in class. There's a saying that out of every group of people, there's always one worth meeting. If I'm not that one, I make it my personal duty to find that one person."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "And why are you talking to me now? I've been here for practically three weeks."

"Because it's hard to talk to someone who hates to talk to people, and goes out of her way to avoid fellow peers," he replied.

"Hmm," she looked back at her book.

"So, what're you reading?"

"Magic: From the Birth of Spells," she answered. "Fascinating subject."

"Pretty thick, isn't it?" he commented.

"Yep."

"How long before you finish it?"

"I don't know."

"Why are you reading it?"

"I'm bored."

"But you know all the stuff in it."

Lily's head snapped up. "What is this, Twenty Questions?"

"Touché," Peter grinned again, sitting down next to her. "You're in the same house as me, right?"

"Depends on what house you're in."

"The same as the yours," he answered. "Tell me, what's going on between you and that Potter fellow?"

"Absolutely nothing," she answered. "Why?"

"Because… We may be shallow here, but we're not blind," he said. "Or, at least, I'm not."

"I hate his guts."

Peter chuckled softly. "Sure you do."

Lily frowned. Peter Grismire. He was annoying and perceptive. Great, she thought. An American version of James Potter.

*~*~*~*~*

James stared out the window. A cloudy day, but everyday seemed cloudy.

"Mr. Potter? Do you know the answer?"

Startled, he looked up. "W-what?"

Mr. Minten frowned. "I said, Mr. Potter, do you know the answer?"

"To what?"

The math teacher gave an impatient sigh. "Two bicyclists start twenty miles apart and head toward each other, each going at a steady rate of ten m.p.h. At the same time, a fly that travels at a steady 15 m.p.h. starts from the front wheel of the southbound bicycle and flies to the front wheel of the northbound one, then turns around and flies to the front wheel of the southbound one, and continues in this manner till he is crushed between the two front wheels. What total distance did the fly cover?" (a/n: anyone know the answer?)

James almost immediately relaxed. His tutor had given the same question to him once, and he had done it the long way. Fortunately for him, his tutor had also taught him the quicker way to solve the problem.

"Fifteen miles, sir."

Mr. Minten frowned, and a few students turned around to find who had answered the question so quickly. "Ah, correct."

James nodded, then looked back at his notes.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something that drowned out Mr. Minten's voice, saying, "There are two ways to solve the fly puzzle, to calculate the distance the fly covers on each trip between the two bicycles, then to sum up the infinite series obtained, or to observe that the two bicycles meet exactly an hour before they start…"

Why the heck was Evans staring at him?

*~*~*~*~*

Peter Grismire caught the look Lily had thrown at James.

Something of hate, anger, competitiveness, envy, and confusion. In fact, he sensed that every time she looked at James.

Funny, that, for two people so much alike.

*~*~*~*~*

"Sirius, are you crazy? It's way too dangerous."

Sirius huffed. "We don't have to have Prongs to control you. I can do it myself, with Peter."

Remus looked at him doubtfully. "The two of you could hardly subdue me together, with you alone…" he shuddered. "I don't want to think about how much I could hurt you or Peter."

Sirius sighed. "James should be back in a couple of weeks. Just a little less than a month, right?"

"Right," Remus nodded. "But just this time, I'll have to transform alone."

Sirius frowned, momentarily turning into a shaggy black dog, and cocked his head. "Grrrw?"

"No need to give the puppy dog face, Padfoot," Remus laughed.

"Grrrrrw."

*~*~*~*~*

Lily Evans.

James frowned, thinking about the girl he had known for six- going on seven- years. She was a puzzle, that was for sure. One minute, she'd shout at him, the next she'd be having something that resembled a conversation with him, then she'd be back to shouting at him.

His thoughts were interrupted as someone stepped into the Common Room.

"Hi, James, what're you doing?" the boy asked.

"Thinking," he replied.

"About…?" the sandy haired boy prompted.

James turned around in the swivel chair. "Peter, what do you think about Lily Evans?"

Peter scratched his head. "I think that she's really quiet, but holds something under that façade that she won't tell anyone. And I think that she thinks that all of us Americans are shallow, incompetent, idiots."

James turned around again. "I think that what you think is right."

"Then it must be right," Peter concluded. "You've known her much longer than I have. She says you two don't get along well."

"Quite right, we don't."

"Then you probably know her best of all," he said.

"And why, may I ask, is that?" James asked, playing around with a pen cap.

Peter frowned. "Well, it's pretty obvious. In order to annoy her, which she says you do, you must have to know exactly what annoys her."

"You have a weird sense of logic, Peter."

"Uh, whatever," Peter turned and walked back to the dorm rooms.

*~*~*~*~*

Somewhere across an ocean and a few miles, in an old, abandoned castle, three cloaked figures stood.

The first, a man, said, "It is time."

The second, a tall figure, in the voice of a female, replied, "Why the hurry?"

"I thought we had a deal."

"We still do. But I must know, why the rush?"

The man was silent for a moment, then said, "She must be aware of her powers."

"B-b-but isn't there another way to inform her?" the third, a short man, asked (a/n: NOT Wormtail).

"What do you think I'm going to do, send her a gift basket with a little card attached to it?" the man asked scornfully.

The woman spoke again. "That might be a pleasant idea. Much less work on my part."

"Shut up!"

"Wait it out, Tom, we have time," she said.

"Whose side are you on?"

The woman paused, then answered, "I have told you, I don't take sides. I am not good or evil. You, of all people, should be able to tell the difference, Tom."

"Wench."

"Always a pleasure," the woman disappeared with a swish of her cloak.

*~*~*~*~*

Professor Dumbledore was at loss for words.

"Surely, you can't mean…" he trailed off, his eyes staring straight into the air, remembering.

Tom Riddle. A good kid, if not a little deluded by his abilities. One would wonder how a good person could go so wrong. Riddle could have done so much. He could have used his powers to help them. Instead, he had been blinded by his own greed for more power and made a wrong turn somewhere in his life. And now…

Lily Evans. Different from Tom, but there was that ambition in her, the same ambition that had been in Tom.

In a rush, he briefly jotted down a few sentences on a piece of parchment.

"Contact Principle Anderson at the school," he said. "With these specific instructions."

A knock on the door signaled the entrance of his meeting with Cornelius Fudge, the Head of the Dark Arts Defence department.

Quickly dropping the paper into the fireplace, he watched as the paper glowed a deep green for a moment, then curled up in flame.

"Albus, I need to speak with you…" the door swung open, and Cornelius walked in.

"Yes?" Dumbledore looked up from writing his notes.

Whoever he had been speaking with just a moment ago was gone.

*~*~*~*~*

"What now?" She didn't even look up.

"Just felt like saying hi," Peter said. "Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

"Why are you saying 'hi' to me?" Lily asked. "What, exactly, started the need for the feeling of acceptance among human beings?"

"Primitive emotions?" Peter crinkled his brow. "Don't ask me. So, what's up?"

"The sky."

"You and Potter. You guys think almost exactly the same or exactly the opposite," Peter noted.

Lily sighed irritably. Why did everyone tell her that? Annoying. Annoying, annoying, annoying!

"Nothing I haven't heard before."

Peter shrugged. "Then I'm surprised it irritates you so much."

"Stupid primitive emotions," she replied blithely, "Don't pay attention to them."

*~*~*~*~*

James Potter was a smart kid. Brighter than most his age.

His father had made sure of that. James Potter Senior had made sure that his son was well rounded in every way thought possible.

He knew how to divide six digit numbers in his head, play the piano, and horseback ride. He had mastered calculus, algebra, and trig. He had learned the differences between muggle math and magical math. He was well acquainted with the classic books, could write a shining essay on the six hundred uses for ginseng roots, and had an extraordinary ability to memorize things. He could dance the waltz, Viennese Waltz, Tango, and a few other varieties of ballroom dances. He spoke French and Latin fluently, along with his polished English.

He, whose father had been sure to give him the finest education, muggle and magical, was baffled. Baffled, confused, lost, whatever one wanted to call it.

Many people would gladly switch lifestyles with him, no doubt about it. Rich, popular, intelligent. He had it all. But there was definitely something missing.

Sirius, his best friend, had filled some of that emptiness.

"Life is for living, Potter," Sirius had told him once. "I don't think your dad did a good job on teaching you that."

Indeed, if Sirius was right, his father may have forgotten to teach him that.

But then, James countered, one couldn't teach another how to live. A person had to find it out on their own. Sirius was brought up the same way he had been, surprisingly.

In fact, he had known him even before Hogwarts. But Sirius' family wasn't quite so… subdued, as one could call it.

Sirius' "Joie De Vivre", which made him so likable, was what he was missing. That inspiring spark of… well, life.

The one time he ever found himself with that spark was when he was around Lily Evans. She challenged him, made him work for… he didn't even know what. A sense of achievement, he guessed. She was filled with passion in every thing she did, and after she gave her all on one project, she started another one. She channeled the same energy towards the verbal fights they had.

When he thought about it, she was the one person who had ever given him a challenge. Sure, there was Snape, but the dislikable Slytherin wasn't much of a challenge when put up to his IQ level. Then there was Sirius.

James was sure that if Sirius had wanted to be his enemy, he would have made a very good one. His friend was quite intelligent, though he didn't seem to show it.

So, alas, there was Lily Evans, the one person who challenged him. The only person with the same social status and same intellect level that ever dared to challenge him.

In the back of his mind, he did admire her for that. She was much more carefree, and didn't seem to care quite so much as him as to what other people thought of her.

His father had made sure he knew the importance of being socially accepted.

"Stupid primitive emotions," he muttered.

Like two peas in a pod.

*~*~*~*~*

(A/N): Okay, that was probably pretty good. Even if I do say so myself, the end was good, the beginning was just a little… blah. Now, to clear up a few things:

James & Lily: still hate each other, but they're on the road to tolerance.

Peter: No romantic interest with Lily at all, though he does have a role in the story.

The whole Italic scene: Hmm… like I'm telling you.

Tragic News: Working on it. It just didn't fit in with this scene. Events and characters just seem to take a life of their own.

To Come: Tragic News. Maybe. A few more incoherent musings by James, we see more of Peter, and Professor Minten throws a hissy fit for who knows what reason (math teachers these days.).