Chapter 20 Not Just a River in Egypt
James opened the door to the seventh year dormitory and tiptoed into the room, relaxing when the familiar sound of Peter's snores came to his years. James moved stealthily to his bed and bent to untie his shoes.
"Are you AWARE of the time, young man?" Mrs. Potter's voice came from somewhere in the darkened room. James jumped and spun around to see Sirius sitting up in his bed, a self-satisfied grin in his face.
"Padfoot! You scared the shit out of me!" James exclaimed. Sirius' impression of his mother had been uncanny. "Have you been awake this whole time?"
"Yep," Sirius returned cheerfully, looking very much amused.
"Where's Moony anyway?" James inquired as he pulled on his pajamas. It wasn't like Remus to be out in the wee hours of the morning, not without James or Sirius' persuasion anyway.
"Not back yet," Sirius shrugged. "I expect he and Kathleen are 'inspecting' a broom cupboard for rule breakers somewhere."
"Ah," James nodded, unable to prevent a small smile from creeping across his face at the images Sirius' answer had evoked in his own memory.
"I saw that," Sirius accused, eyes assessing his best friend. "What's going on with you anyway? You look like you just found a peephole into the girls' bathroom in Gryffindor Tower."
"Close," James' grin widened. "Lily and I kissed during our patrol tonight."
"Sure you did," Sirius scoffed. "So did Snivellus and I, in fact. For hours. With lots of tongue."
"You said yourself that I looked happy," James pointed out. "I'm telling you the reason."
"Wow," Sirius leaned back against the headboard as though he needed physical support. "How was it?" he asked, knowing full well that, unlike himself, James didn't kiss and tell and it was essentially pointless to even ask.
"Perfect," James answered without hesitation. "It was worth waiting for. In fact, I don't think I want to kiss another girl ever again."
Sirius appeared horrified by the very idea of only kissing one girl forever. After a moment, during which Sirius visibly attempted to get a grip on himself, he managed to ask: "And what did dear Lily think?"
"Well...." James hesitated. "She said she wasn't sorry it had happened."
"Oh," Sirius said politely. "Well, that's something, isn't it?"
"I'm meeting her tomorrow," James added almost defensively, Lily's "maybe's" echoing in his head.
"Hope that goes well for you, Prongs, I really do," Sirius said sincerely. "Maybe Evans is finally realizing what a brilliant bloke you are."
"Yeah," James agreed his grin back in place. "Maybe she's finally ready to give me a chance."
* * *
Lily sat in the library the next morning during breakfast, biting her nails and staring into space, completely lost in thought. She'd given up the pretense of doing her homework after only five minutes of effort, realizing how futile it was to even attempt to focus on anything right now. Anything besides last night, anyway.
Lily had stayed awake half the night, alternately remembering the kiss dreamily and agonizing over what it meant. She hadn't told a soul about last night, it was too fresh and she wasn't at all sure about what she intended to do, or even how she felt.
She'd told James that she wasn't sorry they had kissed, and that was still true. She couldn't regret something so perfect; the mere memory of it stretched a smile across Lily's face and sent a tingle all the way down to her very toes. No, she didn't regret, couldn't regret, the memory. And she couldn't go on denying the way she felt about James Potter anymore: she just didn't hate him, much as she might have wanted to.
Okay, so the feelings were there, she'd admit that. The question was, what did she want to do about them? Just for a second, Lily entertained the idea of entering into the relationship James so obviously wanted to have with her and had to admit it was tempting. Having James Potter as a boyfriend would never be boring, that much was for sure. He was charming, interesting, and intelligent, went out of his way to make her laugh, and possessed a very, er, vivid sense of humour. Not to mention the fireworks she had seen when they'd kissed and the tingles that had ran down her spine when he'd touched her face.
Appealing as all this was, Lily had to consider whether or not she was equipped to deal with James Potter and the endless roller coaster ride a relationship with him would inevitably be? There were still certain elements of his personality that she abhorred, and he was still capable of making her more angry than any other living human being she had encountered. A relationship with him would never be easy or simple.
And this was assuming that James even wanted a relationship with her. It was entirely possible that last night a kiss had just been a kiss to him. She'd said often enough herself that James Potter only wanted her because she didn't want him. What if she had been right? What if James had just wanted what he couldn't have now that he knew he could have it he had lost interest? She refused to be just another notch on his bedpost, another easy conquest anecdote for James to tell to his mates.
Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Whenever she had imagined someone she could have a serious relationship with, she'd never pictured James Potter, or even anyone remotely like him. He was just beyond her realm of possibility.
Just then she heard a familiar voice in the corridor. James was coming for their "study session" after all. And suddenly she realized that she had been terrified that he wouldn't come and terrified that he would. Now that he was here she really couldn't say which fear was stronger.
Lily sat frozen in her chair for a few seconds before the idea really registered in her mind. Then it finally hit her. James Potter was right outside, on his way to meet her! Studying be damned, this was for all intensive purposes, and Lily suddenly knew which fear had won out. So she did the only thing any rational person would do. She stuffed everything haphazardly into her bag and dove under the table.
* * *
James stood in the doorway of the library, scanning the room for Lily and earning himself a preemptive glare from Madam Pince. Where was she?
As a second icy glare came his way, James moved away from the door, deciding to look for Lily elsewhere, telling himself not to read so much into this. It wasn't as though this had been an actual date with a prearranged time and place to meet. Lily had only said she might be in the library after all.
Things had seemed to be going so well last night, James mused as he searched the library. She wasn't here. And some part of James was the tiniest bit relieved about that. He really didn't want to screw this up, he wanted to ask her out properly and hear her say yes and for both of them to know it was a date without any of these confusing "maybes."
Deciding that as long as he was here he might as well pick up a few books he needed for his homework, James discontinued his search and made for the Potions section near the back.
* * *
Under her table, Lily breathed a sigh of relief as she watched James move toward the back of the library. As long as she stayed low, she'd be able to make it to the exit without him seeing her.
Even though Lily had been telling herself that she'd only done what anyone would do if faced with this situation, she couldn't help but feel a bit ridiculous and distinctly relieved that no one was in this particular section of the library on a Saturday morning to witness the Head Girl's spectacular nosedive under the table.
Gathering her wits about her and summoning her courage, Lily peered out from under the table. Good. James was still nowhere to be seen. Quickly, Lily darted out from under her table into a row of bookshelves. Cautiously, Lily peeked between the books and saw James some distance away, picking out some books in the Potions section.
Crouching low, Lily made a break for the library doors, silently praying that no one she knew, especially James, could see to what ridiculous levels this crush had brought her.
* * *
Since his unpleasant exchange of words with Bellatrix and her revelations about her new status and plans for the House, Snape had been distinctly uneasy. Bellatrix was dangerous, and the only person Snape had ever known to have some sort of calming influence on her was no longer at Hogwarts. After two sleepless nights, Snape realized that there was no avoiding it: he would have to swallow his pride and distaste and write to Lestrange about the situation.
The relationship between their select few had been a bit strained since Bellatrix's new bid for power; nearly all of them, to Snape's irritation, were aware of what had happened between him and Bellatrix that night. Whether they had guessed, Bellatrix had told them, or they had discovered through some other means, Snape did not know.
And Bellatrix herself had been behaving unusually. She was highly secretive, more so than usual, and was spending a good bit of time off by herself. Snape had a strong suspicion that this supposed Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade wasn't the only trick Bellatrix had up her sleeve and that this other scheme, what ever it was, was very likely within Hogwarts, perhaps within Slytherin House itself.
Snape, being a firm believer in confronting undesirable tasks head on, sealed himself in his favorite study room immediately after breakfast and began the arduous chore of writing to Rodolphus Lestrange. He was so absorbed in this delicate chore that he didn't realize someone else had entered the room until they were almost upon him. Snape had just enough time to stuff away the letter before looking up to meet the intruder.
Not surprisingly, it was Bellatrix, wearing the gloating, self- satisfied expression she was rarely seen without these days. His defenses on full alert, Snape decided to let her make the first move.
"Hello Severus," Bellatrix purred, her eyes predatory. "Working hard are you, pet?"
"Not particularly," Snape returned stiffly. Would she never cut to the chase, this girl?
"Have a moment for your sweet Bellatrix?" she asked, picking up Snape's quill from the desk and twirling it idly between her fingers. Snape, refusing to dignify this behavior with words, simply gave a curt nod.
"I've come here to offer you some friendly advice in the hopes that you'll do me a friendly favor," Bellatrix went on, her expression coy. "You remember when I told you about the little adventure I was helping to plan in Hogsmeade, don't you?" Maddeningly Bellatrix waited for Snape to answer her before continuing.
"Yes," Snape finally snapped, exasperated.
Bellatrix smiled smugly, victorious. "I've come to ask you to reconsider. I want you to be there with us, Severus," Bellatrix circled the desk again, coming behind Snape's chair. "You are a dull one, darling, but you're so terribly clever and such a pet of our dear leader's. You will do me this favor, won't you, from one friend to another?" Bellatrix's hand had come to rest lightly on Severus' shoulder.
Snape shrugged it off. "I believe I gave you my answer last time we spoke of this little matter, Bellatrix," he enunciated crisply, impatiently.
"But Severus," Bellatrix's eyes were wide with an expression akin to innocence, or her best imitation of it anyway. "I really was depending on you. You wouldn't want to disappoint a friend, now would you, pet?" She moved closer still to Snape; he felt her breath in his ear. "Just one little friendly favor for a friend who's willing to do you a few little friendly favors in return...." Bellatrix's voice had died to a murmur, her hand once again resting, and more suggestively this time, on Snape's shoulder.
Snape shot out of his seat. "I'm afraid you and I have nothing to discuss, Bellatrix," he snapped, mouth compressed in fury. Now if you would be so kind as to leave me. I have a great deal of work to do."
An ugly expression crossed Bellatrix's face at Snape's reaction, one part pouting child, one part thwarted insanity. "Yes, Severus," she hissed. "I see now how wrong I was to come here."
Then as quickly as it had appeared, Bellatrix's fury over her rejection was gone and had been replaced with a look of extreme confidence that Snape found even more chilling than Bellatrix's spiteful fury.
"Don't worry your dear little head about any of this," Bellatrix cooed, the confidence still gleaming in her eyes. "But do remember, pet, that I meant what I said about changes. Just don't say I didn't warn you." With that, Bellatrix swept from the room.
Snape, feeling faintly sick over what had just transpired, fumbled for the letter I he had stuffed in the desk, his expression mirroring his inner disgust. That expression on Bellatrix's face...... It had gone beyond confidence really. Hubris might be a better word for it. He had no idea what Bellatrix knew to warrant such an expression, but it did not bode well for him or for the Dark Lord's cause.
Filled with a new urgency, Snape raised his quill and began writing furiously.
* * *
Lily was slightly late for patrol that night; she'd been dreading facing James all day and when it came time to do it, she'd had great difficulty persuading herself to go.
Clearly she wasn't ready for this thing, not if she was hiding form James under tables, and she had to tell him that tonight. James deserved better than someone who hid from him under tables anyway, and she wasn't cut out to be the girl who could give him something better. All things considered, it actually felt good to have made a decision about the whole thing.
But as soon as she saw James standing outside the portrait waiting for her, looking so fantastic and seeming so happy to see her, all of Lily's confusion came rushing back, and before she knew what she was doing, she was smiling back at him, feeling that still-new thrill run through her body and settle in the pit of her stomach.
James had been so fantastically relieved that Lily had showed up for the patrol and hadn't avoided him that he broke into a huge grin at the sight of her. His stomach performed its routine flip-flop, just a bit stronger than usual, when she smiled back.
As James and Lily patrolled, they covered a range of topics from Gryffindor's chances in the match against Ravenclaw next Saturday to the uselessness of Divination, their conversation a bit more stilted than usual and both of them well aware of the reason.
They were more than halfway through the patrol before James came to the point on both of their minds.
"Thought you were going to be in the library after breakfast today," James said casually, careful not to meet Lily's eyes.
"I was," Lily began, unsure of what to say. "But I went there during breakfast instead and went back to my room."
"Oh. Right." James paused, then burst out: "Any particular reason you decided to go back to your room?"
"There was this problem that I couldn't figure out and I decided the library wasn't the best place to solve it in," Lily answered truthfully.
"Well, let me know if you need any help with it," James offered, relieved. His tone, Lily noticed, was much less arrogant than it used to be when he offered to help someone. He sounded as though he genuinely meant it and wasn't just asking to show off.
Lily's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Yeah," she managed, hoping she sounded nonchalant and not at all like she was crying and on the verge of an emotional meltdown brought on by severe confusion. "I'll let you know."
The pair continued in silence for a bit, but the conversation picked up again and eventually Lily and James found themselves in a heated debate over their Transfiguration homework, of all things.
"It's compare Transfiguring a balaclava to a bucket and a curtain to a cauldron," Lily insisted for the fourth time in the last five minutes of their increasingly heated discussion. "Think about it, it makes sense!"
"She said 'baklava to a bucket,'" James insisted stubbornly. "I heard her!"
"WHY would anyone Transfigure a pastry into a bucket?" Lily demanded, frustrated. "And the second thing we're supposed to compare is a curtain to a cauldron, both start out as fabric and become a container!"
"I think I of all people know what McGonagall said," James persisted arrogantly, his tone implying that Lily shouldn't dare to contradict someone of his Transfiguring talents. Then, to add insult to injury, he ran his hand through his hair again.
"I don't care what you think you heard!" Lily exploded, red-faced and trembling with rage. "It is ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS TO TRANSFIGURE A BAKLAVA INTO A BUCKET!" Lily took a deep breath, seriously contemplating kicking James Potter in the shin, or maybe somewhere else that was a lot more sensitive.
Afterwards Lily never could figure out what had happened, one second she was standing there thinking about where she should kick James Potter and the next thing she knew she was kissing him. How had this happened to her? Again?
Regardless of how it had happened, it was just as perfect as she remembered it, except this time she recovered from her shock a bit sooner and was able to concentrate a bit more on the kiss.
They were both so engrossed, as a matter of fact, that they didn't notice they had an audience until a familiar voice, the last one either of them wanted to hear, came crashing into their eardrums.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS GOING ON HERE?"
* * *
Author's Note: Thank you SO much for the reviews, everyone! I'm really happy to know that you liked the last chapter and are enjoying my story. I had a list of people I wanted to thank by name, but it was really long and I know everyone would rather read the story than a humungously long author's note (although this one is rather lengthy anyway), so I'll try to keep it short. New reviewers, I want you to know how much I appreciate you taking the time to review my story and tell me what you thought of it and what parts you enjoyed or didn't like. And, as always, thanks to all of my regular/more-than-one-time reviewers. You know who you are and how grateful I am. :-)
Just a quick note on some of the questions people asked me: Bellatrix is still at Hogwarts because she's in the same year as the Marauders and Lily (they had Potions together). It was Lestrange who was in seventh year last year. And, as Raye Musgrave pointed out, Lucius' age is given as 41 in OOTP, making him six years older than the Marauders and Lily. Sorry for the mistake. Also, for those of you who asked about the rat behind the statue, all I'll say is you're very perceptive.
Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it's only a little one. Next chapter should be up on Saturday. In the meantime, don't forget to review!
James opened the door to the seventh year dormitory and tiptoed into the room, relaxing when the familiar sound of Peter's snores came to his years. James moved stealthily to his bed and bent to untie his shoes.
"Are you AWARE of the time, young man?" Mrs. Potter's voice came from somewhere in the darkened room. James jumped and spun around to see Sirius sitting up in his bed, a self-satisfied grin in his face.
"Padfoot! You scared the shit out of me!" James exclaimed. Sirius' impression of his mother had been uncanny. "Have you been awake this whole time?"
"Yep," Sirius returned cheerfully, looking very much amused.
"Where's Moony anyway?" James inquired as he pulled on his pajamas. It wasn't like Remus to be out in the wee hours of the morning, not without James or Sirius' persuasion anyway.
"Not back yet," Sirius shrugged. "I expect he and Kathleen are 'inspecting' a broom cupboard for rule breakers somewhere."
"Ah," James nodded, unable to prevent a small smile from creeping across his face at the images Sirius' answer had evoked in his own memory.
"I saw that," Sirius accused, eyes assessing his best friend. "What's going on with you anyway? You look like you just found a peephole into the girls' bathroom in Gryffindor Tower."
"Close," James' grin widened. "Lily and I kissed during our patrol tonight."
"Sure you did," Sirius scoffed. "So did Snivellus and I, in fact. For hours. With lots of tongue."
"You said yourself that I looked happy," James pointed out. "I'm telling you the reason."
"Wow," Sirius leaned back against the headboard as though he needed physical support. "How was it?" he asked, knowing full well that, unlike himself, James didn't kiss and tell and it was essentially pointless to even ask.
"Perfect," James answered without hesitation. "It was worth waiting for. In fact, I don't think I want to kiss another girl ever again."
Sirius appeared horrified by the very idea of only kissing one girl forever. After a moment, during which Sirius visibly attempted to get a grip on himself, he managed to ask: "And what did dear Lily think?"
"Well...." James hesitated. "She said she wasn't sorry it had happened."
"Oh," Sirius said politely. "Well, that's something, isn't it?"
"I'm meeting her tomorrow," James added almost defensively, Lily's "maybe's" echoing in his head.
"Hope that goes well for you, Prongs, I really do," Sirius said sincerely. "Maybe Evans is finally realizing what a brilliant bloke you are."
"Yeah," James agreed his grin back in place. "Maybe she's finally ready to give me a chance."
* * *
Lily sat in the library the next morning during breakfast, biting her nails and staring into space, completely lost in thought. She'd given up the pretense of doing her homework after only five minutes of effort, realizing how futile it was to even attempt to focus on anything right now. Anything besides last night, anyway.
Lily had stayed awake half the night, alternately remembering the kiss dreamily and agonizing over what it meant. She hadn't told a soul about last night, it was too fresh and she wasn't at all sure about what she intended to do, or even how she felt.
She'd told James that she wasn't sorry they had kissed, and that was still true. She couldn't regret something so perfect; the mere memory of it stretched a smile across Lily's face and sent a tingle all the way down to her very toes. No, she didn't regret, couldn't regret, the memory. And she couldn't go on denying the way she felt about James Potter anymore: she just didn't hate him, much as she might have wanted to.
Okay, so the feelings were there, she'd admit that. The question was, what did she want to do about them? Just for a second, Lily entertained the idea of entering into the relationship James so obviously wanted to have with her and had to admit it was tempting. Having James Potter as a boyfriend would never be boring, that much was for sure. He was charming, interesting, and intelligent, went out of his way to make her laugh, and possessed a very, er, vivid sense of humour. Not to mention the fireworks she had seen when they'd kissed and the tingles that had ran down her spine when he'd touched her face.
Appealing as all this was, Lily had to consider whether or not she was equipped to deal with James Potter and the endless roller coaster ride a relationship with him would inevitably be? There were still certain elements of his personality that she abhorred, and he was still capable of making her more angry than any other living human being she had encountered. A relationship with him would never be easy or simple.
And this was assuming that James even wanted a relationship with her. It was entirely possible that last night a kiss had just been a kiss to him. She'd said often enough herself that James Potter only wanted her because she didn't want him. What if she had been right? What if James had just wanted what he couldn't have now that he knew he could have it he had lost interest? She refused to be just another notch on his bedpost, another easy conquest anecdote for James to tell to his mates.
Lily sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Whenever she had imagined someone she could have a serious relationship with, she'd never pictured James Potter, or even anyone remotely like him. He was just beyond her realm of possibility.
Just then she heard a familiar voice in the corridor. James was coming for their "study session" after all. And suddenly she realized that she had been terrified that he wouldn't come and terrified that he would. Now that he was here she really couldn't say which fear was stronger.
Lily sat frozen in her chair for a few seconds before the idea really registered in her mind. Then it finally hit her. James Potter was right outside, on his way to meet her! Studying be damned, this was for all intensive purposes, and Lily suddenly knew which fear had won out. So she did the only thing any rational person would do. She stuffed everything haphazardly into her bag and dove under the table.
* * *
James stood in the doorway of the library, scanning the room for Lily and earning himself a preemptive glare from Madam Pince. Where was she?
As a second icy glare came his way, James moved away from the door, deciding to look for Lily elsewhere, telling himself not to read so much into this. It wasn't as though this had been an actual date with a prearranged time and place to meet. Lily had only said she might be in the library after all.
Things had seemed to be going so well last night, James mused as he searched the library. She wasn't here. And some part of James was the tiniest bit relieved about that. He really didn't want to screw this up, he wanted to ask her out properly and hear her say yes and for both of them to know it was a date without any of these confusing "maybes."
Deciding that as long as he was here he might as well pick up a few books he needed for his homework, James discontinued his search and made for the Potions section near the back.
* * *
Under her table, Lily breathed a sigh of relief as she watched James move toward the back of the library. As long as she stayed low, she'd be able to make it to the exit without him seeing her.
Even though Lily had been telling herself that she'd only done what anyone would do if faced with this situation, she couldn't help but feel a bit ridiculous and distinctly relieved that no one was in this particular section of the library on a Saturday morning to witness the Head Girl's spectacular nosedive under the table.
Gathering her wits about her and summoning her courage, Lily peered out from under the table. Good. James was still nowhere to be seen. Quickly, Lily darted out from under her table into a row of bookshelves. Cautiously, Lily peeked between the books and saw James some distance away, picking out some books in the Potions section.
Crouching low, Lily made a break for the library doors, silently praying that no one she knew, especially James, could see to what ridiculous levels this crush had brought her.
* * *
Since his unpleasant exchange of words with Bellatrix and her revelations about her new status and plans for the House, Snape had been distinctly uneasy. Bellatrix was dangerous, and the only person Snape had ever known to have some sort of calming influence on her was no longer at Hogwarts. After two sleepless nights, Snape realized that there was no avoiding it: he would have to swallow his pride and distaste and write to Lestrange about the situation.
The relationship between their select few had been a bit strained since Bellatrix's new bid for power; nearly all of them, to Snape's irritation, were aware of what had happened between him and Bellatrix that night. Whether they had guessed, Bellatrix had told them, or they had discovered through some other means, Snape did not know.
And Bellatrix herself had been behaving unusually. She was highly secretive, more so than usual, and was spending a good bit of time off by herself. Snape had a strong suspicion that this supposed Death Eater attack in Hogsmeade wasn't the only trick Bellatrix had up her sleeve and that this other scheme, what ever it was, was very likely within Hogwarts, perhaps within Slytherin House itself.
Snape, being a firm believer in confronting undesirable tasks head on, sealed himself in his favorite study room immediately after breakfast and began the arduous chore of writing to Rodolphus Lestrange. He was so absorbed in this delicate chore that he didn't realize someone else had entered the room until they were almost upon him. Snape had just enough time to stuff away the letter before looking up to meet the intruder.
Not surprisingly, it was Bellatrix, wearing the gloating, self- satisfied expression she was rarely seen without these days. His defenses on full alert, Snape decided to let her make the first move.
"Hello Severus," Bellatrix purred, her eyes predatory. "Working hard are you, pet?"
"Not particularly," Snape returned stiffly. Would she never cut to the chase, this girl?
"Have a moment for your sweet Bellatrix?" she asked, picking up Snape's quill from the desk and twirling it idly between her fingers. Snape, refusing to dignify this behavior with words, simply gave a curt nod.
"I've come here to offer you some friendly advice in the hopes that you'll do me a friendly favor," Bellatrix went on, her expression coy. "You remember when I told you about the little adventure I was helping to plan in Hogsmeade, don't you?" Maddeningly Bellatrix waited for Snape to answer her before continuing.
"Yes," Snape finally snapped, exasperated.
Bellatrix smiled smugly, victorious. "I've come to ask you to reconsider. I want you to be there with us, Severus," Bellatrix circled the desk again, coming behind Snape's chair. "You are a dull one, darling, but you're so terribly clever and such a pet of our dear leader's. You will do me this favor, won't you, from one friend to another?" Bellatrix's hand had come to rest lightly on Severus' shoulder.
Snape shrugged it off. "I believe I gave you my answer last time we spoke of this little matter, Bellatrix," he enunciated crisply, impatiently.
"But Severus," Bellatrix's eyes were wide with an expression akin to innocence, or her best imitation of it anyway. "I really was depending on you. You wouldn't want to disappoint a friend, now would you, pet?" She moved closer still to Snape; he felt her breath in his ear. "Just one little friendly favor for a friend who's willing to do you a few little friendly favors in return...." Bellatrix's voice had died to a murmur, her hand once again resting, and more suggestively this time, on Snape's shoulder.
Snape shot out of his seat. "I'm afraid you and I have nothing to discuss, Bellatrix," he snapped, mouth compressed in fury. Now if you would be so kind as to leave me. I have a great deal of work to do."
An ugly expression crossed Bellatrix's face at Snape's reaction, one part pouting child, one part thwarted insanity. "Yes, Severus," she hissed. "I see now how wrong I was to come here."
Then as quickly as it had appeared, Bellatrix's fury over her rejection was gone and had been replaced with a look of extreme confidence that Snape found even more chilling than Bellatrix's spiteful fury.
"Don't worry your dear little head about any of this," Bellatrix cooed, the confidence still gleaming in her eyes. "But do remember, pet, that I meant what I said about changes. Just don't say I didn't warn you." With that, Bellatrix swept from the room.
Snape, feeling faintly sick over what had just transpired, fumbled for the letter I he had stuffed in the desk, his expression mirroring his inner disgust. That expression on Bellatrix's face...... It had gone beyond confidence really. Hubris might be a better word for it. He had no idea what Bellatrix knew to warrant such an expression, but it did not bode well for him or for the Dark Lord's cause.
Filled with a new urgency, Snape raised his quill and began writing furiously.
* * *
Lily was slightly late for patrol that night; she'd been dreading facing James all day and when it came time to do it, she'd had great difficulty persuading herself to go.
Clearly she wasn't ready for this thing, not if she was hiding form James under tables, and she had to tell him that tonight. James deserved better than someone who hid from him under tables anyway, and she wasn't cut out to be the girl who could give him something better. All things considered, it actually felt good to have made a decision about the whole thing.
But as soon as she saw James standing outside the portrait waiting for her, looking so fantastic and seeming so happy to see her, all of Lily's confusion came rushing back, and before she knew what she was doing, she was smiling back at him, feeling that still-new thrill run through her body and settle in the pit of her stomach.
James had been so fantastically relieved that Lily had showed up for the patrol and hadn't avoided him that he broke into a huge grin at the sight of her. His stomach performed its routine flip-flop, just a bit stronger than usual, when she smiled back.
As James and Lily patrolled, they covered a range of topics from Gryffindor's chances in the match against Ravenclaw next Saturday to the uselessness of Divination, their conversation a bit more stilted than usual and both of them well aware of the reason.
They were more than halfway through the patrol before James came to the point on both of their minds.
"Thought you were going to be in the library after breakfast today," James said casually, careful not to meet Lily's eyes.
"I was," Lily began, unsure of what to say. "But I went there during breakfast instead and went back to my room."
"Oh. Right." James paused, then burst out: "Any particular reason you decided to go back to your room?"
"There was this problem that I couldn't figure out and I decided the library wasn't the best place to solve it in," Lily answered truthfully.
"Well, let me know if you need any help with it," James offered, relieved. His tone, Lily noticed, was much less arrogant than it used to be when he offered to help someone. He sounded as though he genuinely meant it and wasn't just asking to show off.
Lily's eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Yeah," she managed, hoping she sounded nonchalant and not at all like she was crying and on the verge of an emotional meltdown brought on by severe confusion. "I'll let you know."
The pair continued in silence for a bit, but the conversation picked up again and eventually Lily and James found themselves in a heated debate over their Transfiguration homework, of all things.
"It's compare Transfiguring a balaclava to a bucket and a curtain to a cauldron," Lily insisted for the fourth time in the last five minutes of their increasingly heated discussion. "Think about it, it makes sense!"
"She said 'baklava to a bucket,'" James insisted stubbornly. "I heard her!"
"WHY would anyone Transfigure a pastry into a bucket?" Lily demanded, frustrated. "And the second thing we're supposed to compare is a curtain to a cauldron, both start out as fabric and become a container!"
"I think I of all people know what McGonagall said," James persisted arrogantly, his tone implying that Lily shouldn't dare to contradict someone of his Transfiguring talents. Then, to add insult to injury, he ran his hand through his hair again.
"I don't care what you think you heard!" Lily exploded, red-faced and trembling with rage. "It is ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS TO TRANSFIGURE A BAKLAVA INTO A BUCKET!" Lily took a deep breath, seriously contemplating kicking James Potter in the shin, or maybe somewhere else that was a lot more sensitive.
Afterwards Lily never could figure out what had happened, one second she was standing there thinking about where she should kick James Potter and the next thing she knew she was kissing him. How had this happened to her? Again?
Regardless of how it had happened, it was just as perfect as she remembered it, except this time she recovered from her shock a bit sooner and was able to concentrate a bit more on the kiss.
They were both so engrossed, as a matter of fact, that they didn't notice they had an audience until a familiar voice, the last one either of them wanted to hear, came crashing into their eardrums.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN IS GOING ON HERE?"
* * *
Author's Note: Thank you SO much for the reviews, everyone! I'm really happy to know that you liked the last chapter and are enjoying my story. I had a list of people I wanted to thank by name, but it was really long and I know everyone would rather read the story than a humungously long author's note (although this one is rather lengthy anyway), so I'll try to keep it short. New reviewers, I want you to know how much I appreciate you taking the time to review my story and tell me what you thought of it and what parts you enjoyed or didn't like. And, as always, thanks to all of my regular/more-than-one-time reviewers. You know who you are and how grateful I am. :-)
Just a quick note on some of the questions people asked me: Bellatrix is still at Hogwarts because she's in the same year as the Marauders and Lily (they had Potions together). It was Lestrange who was in seventh year last year. And, as Raye Musgrave pointed out, Lucius' age is given as 41 in OOTP, making him six years older than the Marauders and Lily. Sorry for the mistake. Also, for those of you who asked about the rat behind the statue, all I'll say is you're very perceptive.
Sorry for the cliffhanger, but it's only a little one. Next chapter should be up on Saturday. In the meantime, don't forget to review!