Chapter 6: Candid Realizations
*Life falls. Despite gravity, despite all the rules that science inflicts on everything living thing we, as humans, see, life still falls.*
Lily half lay on her bed and half precariously crouched on the hard floor. Beneath her, far beneath her, she could hear the high- pitched yells of third year girls. They were screaming about a horde of frogs, or toads, or something green and slimy that the Potter and his friends had set loose in the Common Room. Nothing that so very important that Lily truly cared to risk injury for.
Except the sound of James Potters' voice.
It really was quite lovely, Lily decided, after a long period of thought. Of course, she had always known it; the idea had just not bothered her before. Nor had his hideous looks. Those annoyingly ugly looks of his were, Lily sighed, quite attractive.
Lily groaned, her stomach shaking violently against her scarlet four-poster. Not only was she doomed to hit that cold stone floor, but she was also doomed to doing so while being the exact replica of every other Hogwarts witch. She was doomed to falling for Potter.
But had she really fallen, she wondered idly. It wasn't really a falling feeling unless you counted the feeling of being hit sharply in the stomach, the feeling of shock. No, Lily Evans felt almost as if she had been lifted up out of a momentary depression. Every time she heard a laugh she wondered if it was his. And her eyes searched constantly for his hazel ones.
And it had all started with that damn journal.
***
*Potter gave me a journal. Why he did it, I don't really know. Why I excepted it, I'm even more confused about. It's not a major gift, of course. It's just an inexpensive diary. So I suppose it's really no trouble on his part . After all, he, is a prat.*
A cute prat.
Lily blinked. Where in all that's hellish had that idea come from? Potter? Cute? Oh, gods. James Potter was arrogant, but certainly not cute.
Just sexy, she decided against her better judgment. Yes, he undoubtedly was sexy. Too sexy.
*And yet why? Why? And may I ask, and why?*
He just was.
***
"Lily," James asked blankly. Twice he snapped his fingers before her face.
Her head lifted to meet his eyes, his gorgeous eyes, the green eyes that swam in brown.
"Lily?" she asked thickly. "Am I Lily?"
He ran a deft hand through his chaotic hair, thereby making it even more wild. His eyes sparkled in delight, and she wondered vacantly if his irises always lit up with golden streaks when he was amused. He was so beautiful standing above her with a cherubic grin and big, bright eyes. His alabaster face was chiseled so delicately, he looked like a god. She wondered if it was a sin to be so lovely.
"You're Lily, yes," he reminded her.
She blinked twice. "Of course."
Damn journal.
There was no point in ever liking him. She wasn't about to kid herself on that matter. She was Lily Evans. He was James Potter. She hated him, even as his beauty unraveled itself further to her, she knew that she hated him because she had no other choice.
So even in the company of Potter, Lily was alone, hidden behind her icy hate.
"C'mon," James said softly. "You're going to get hurt hanging off from your four-poster like that. I'm in shit as is. I don't need a dying Lily on my résumé too." He grinned his pearly grin again, and continued on in a mocking voice, "How am I ever going to become Minister of Magic when I'm a murderer?" Who he was mocking, she didn't know.
Lily smirked. "The same way you've been trying to do as a rapist." She suggested.
He frowned. "Rapist?"
"Yeah, you know, a person that molests little boys and girls."
"And transvestites."
"Of course,"
He paused for a second, his face faintly marred with perplexity. She supposed she understood. It wasn't as if she would remember, were she in his place, a person so pointless as herself, Lily. It was his *right* to forget who she was. It wasn't like she actually mattered.
"You were molesting me in transfiguration last Tuesday." She told him. "You remember, don't you?"
"Molesting? Me? You must have the wrong James Potter."
Lily grinned. "Like hell,"
Being with James was refreshing. She could smile and she could laugh. It wasn't just any person who heard Lily swear, after all. It was Potter, her sworn enemy.
And yet, it was but his name the she hated.
"How," he asked softly, leaning forward and staring straight into her vivid eyes. No one ever did that. "does raping little boys and girls-"
"And transvestites,"
"And transvestites," he agreed. "How does that make me an unfit Minister. It's not as if Fudge would make a better one."
"Fudge?" she questioned.
"Yeah, Fudge, the BHB."
"BHB being Big Head Boy, I suppose. After all, he is Head Boy."
"I thought you didn't know him."
"I'm a prefect, James. Unlike you, I actually *have* to work, and with him no less. How he got to be Head Boy, I've got no clue. He skives off his classes and smokes marijuana."
"Marijuana as in pot? That Muggle drug?"
She purred vaguely in response.
"No wonder he's so stupid."
"Oh, no; he was always quite dense. Drugs just accentuate that feature."
It *was* true. Cornelius Fudge was a stoner. It wasn't obvious how he made his grades, but it was well known that he did. He was top of his class since his first year.
"I'll be running against him in the next campaign." James said, dragging his toe across the stone floor. "I seriously hope that by then he's gained some acumen."
"Or goes to rehab."
"Yeah," he agreed.
Lily sighed. James wasn't the easiest person to talk to. He was shrouded in a mist of intellect, and while that came off to others as pride, she was beginning to think it was fear- a narrow fear of the future and the life that was to come, no doubt, but it was fear all the same. He was facile to read; his eyes said all, but talking to a person you know way too well can be the most intricate act in the world. When talking to him, you could smother yourself in the tricky lies of contentment that coated James like butter, or you could speak the truth you knew he wanted to hear. And yet the decision was so hard for Lily. After all, he was the crush that she hated to her very bones.
"James, why are you doing it?"
He exhaled audibly. "What, Lilia?"
"Lilia?"
"Yeah, ask Sirius."
Sirius Black was James' partner in crime and left-hand man. Why left-hand? Because he wasn't right-handed, said Black. He was a gorgeous boy, much prettier than Potter, but in a difference sense. He was sharp-witted, and warn-natured, and a completely unconventional boy.
"I'll do that."
"So, what, Lilia?"
"Oh," she paused a second, gathering her previous thoughts. "Why are you doing it? You know, trying to rule magical Britain? It's not something you would do. It's a cheater's job; a liar's job. We never are governed by fair sovereigns."
"Why not?" he responded. "You just said it, Lily; we're never governed by the just. I know you don't actually like me, but you know I'm not a bad person, don't you? I'm candid and I'm fair."
"I know,"
She didn't know.
"Lilia," he said abruptly with a soft, flowing passion, "let's go down to the lake."
She nodded.
***
"I don't know why I do it." James said sincerely, while stepping back and then releasing a stone. It skipped perfectly across the surface of the lake, and then disappeared somewhere in the middle. "It's not as if I have reason to. I blew up a toilet once last year. My mother sent me a howler. I know no one thought I cared. I remember I laughed for fuck's sake. I didn't care about the howler. I don't give a rat's ass if a horde of Slytherins snicker at what 'Potty's mummy said'." He shook his head and shouted, "I don't give a damn!"
She nodded her head. She didn't understand him. His antics were amusing, sure, but was there a point?
"What I do give a damn about," he continued. "Is the look my mum gave me at Christmas. It was just a fucking toilet, but she looked as if I'd blown up Hogwarts."
Lily tried not to giggle.
James sighed. "What about you? You've got parents, I assume."
"Yeah," she said softly. "Sort of. My dad died last year."
"Attack on Muggles?" James asking, brushing the thought that Lily did not want to discuss; the Lord Voldemort, darkest wizard of the present day.
"Yeah, but not in the way you're thinking. Daddy died of lung cancer. He smoked too much."
"Cancer?"
"It's a Muggle disease. It's hard to cure. Smoking can cause it."
"Thank god I'm not a Muggle. I couldn't give up my fags if I wanted to."
She nodded in understanding. "I've never smoked because of my dad. Besides, my mum would kill me if she ever found out."
James raised an eyebrow. "She'd never have to know."
Lily shrugged, and nodded in recognition of the truth.
"Don't deny yourself the good things in life." He told her gently, taking out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. "As long as it's not drugs. Or stupidity."
She laughed. "So I can't date Cornelius? Damn."
James distinctly blanched and Lily smiled.
Lighting a cigarette, he passed it to her, and took a seat against the willow beside the lake.
She inhaled the smoky substance, and coughed out an exhale. "Point?" she asked.
"I dunno."
"So we commit suicide without reason."
"No, we give ourselves this cancer of yours and then banish it with magic."
"So there's no point?"
"Only the fun of it."
"So, no point?" she concluded in a persistent tone and he nodded.
"Exactly," he agreed.
"I like that."
Without a point, everything is so much richer, life is so much brighter. Until you see that the absence of that point is going to be your downfall, because despite all your better attempts, there's always going to be a fall. It's always there waiting for you to slip, waiting for you to die, waiting.
And Lily wasn't sure if she cared.
A/N: Finally, I'm starting to get the point! Gods, defiantly finally. This isn't going to be a short story, in case you're wondering. Well, once I edit it, it won't be. Hopefully.
Anyway, I really need to know, did I bring in the whole 'Lily likes James' thing way too fast. It seemed to me while I was writing it that it just came out of nowhere, but it's going to be necessary. The romance is a major plot line. It's not a central issue, exactly, but it can't be long and tortured either. It's supposed to be something that attacks Lily when she's dealing with all the shit that's going on. Obviously, she's going to snap. The question is when?
Thank you to everyone that reviewed. You guys are awesome! You seriously rock my socks (as does Jack Black). Please continue reviewing. And if this is still confusing everyone, tell me EXACTLY how it's confusing. I'll fix it in the next chapter.
So later days,
Hunter
*Life falls. Despite gravity, despite all the rules that science inflicts on everything living thing we, as humans, see, life still falls.*
Lily half lay on her bed and half precariously crouched on the hard floor. Beneath her, far beneath her, she could hear the high- pitched yells of third year girls. They were screaming about a horde of frogs, or toads, or something green and slimy that the Potter and his friends had set loose in the Common Room. Nothing that so very important that Lily truly cared to risk injury for.
Except the sound of James Potters' voice.
It really was quite lovely, Lily decided, after a long period of thought. Of course, she had always known it; the idea had just not bothered her before. Nor had his hideous looks. Those annoyingly ugly looks of his were, Lily sighed, quite attractive.
Lily groaned, her stomach shaking violently against her scarlet four-poster. Not only was she doomed to hit that cold stone floor, but she was also doomed to doing so while being the exact replica of every other Hogwarts witch. She was doomed to falling for Potter.
But had she really fallen, she wondered idly. It wasn't really a falling feeling unless you counted the feeling of being hit sharply in the stomach, the feeling of shock. No, Lily Evans felt almost as if she had been lifted up out of a momentary depression. Every time she heard a laugh she wondered if it was his. And her eyes searched constantly for his hazel ones.
And it had all started with that damn journal.
***
*Potter gave me a journal. Why he did it, I don't really know. Why I excepted it, I'm even more confused about. It's not a major gift, of course. It's just an inexpensive diary. So I suppose it's really no trouble on his part . After all, he, is a prat.*
A cute prat.
Lily blinked. Where in all that's hellish had that idea come from? Potter? Cute? Oh, gods. James Potter was arrogant, but certainly not cute.
Just sexy, she decided against her better judgment. Yes, he undoubtedly was sexy. Too sexy.
*And yet why? Why? And may I ask, and why?*
He just was.
***
"Lily," James asked blankly. Twice he snapped his fingers before her face.
Her head lifted to meet his eyes, his gorgeous eyes, the green eyes that swam in brown.
"Lily?" she asked thickly. "Am I Lily?"
He ran a deft hand through his chaotic hair, thereby making it even more wild. His eyes sparkled in delight, and she wondered vacantly if his irises always lit up with golden streaks when he was amused. He was so beautiful standing above her with a cherubic grin and big, bright eyes. His alabaster face was chiseled so delicately, he looked like a god. She wondered if it was a sin to be so lovely.
"You're Lily, yes," he reminded her.
She blinked twice. "Of course."
Damn journal.
There was no point in ever liking him. She wasn't about to kid herself on that matter. She was Lily Evans. He was James Potter. She hated him, even as his beauty unraveled itself further to her, she knew that she hated him because she had no other choice.
So even in the company of Potter, Lily was alone, hidden behind her icy hate.
"C'mon," James said softly. "You're going to get hurt hanging off from your four-poster like that. I'm in shit as is. I don't need a dying Lily on my résumé too." He grinned his pearly grin again, and continued on in a mocking voice, "How am I ever going to become Minister of Magic when I'm a murderer?" Who he was mocking, she didn't know.
Lily smirked. "The same way you've been trying to do as a rapist." She suggested.
He frowned. "Rapist?"
"Yeah, you know, a person that molests little boys and girls."
"And transvestites."
"Of course,"
He paused for a second, his face faintly marred with perplexity. She supposed she understood. It wasn't as if she would remember, were she in his place, a person so pointless as herself, Lily. It was his *right* to forget who she was. It wasn't like she actually mattered.
"You were molesting me in transfiguration last Tuesday." She told him. "You remember, don't you?"
"Molesting? Me? You must have the wrong James Potter."
Lily grinned. "Like hell,"
Being with James was refreshing. She could smile and she could laugh. It wasn't just any person who heard Lily swear, after all. It was Potter, her sworn enemy.
And yet, it was but his name the she hated.
"How," he asked softly, leaning forward and staring straight into her vivid eyes. No one ever did that. "does raping little boys and girls-"
"And transvestites,"
"And transvestites," he agreed. "How does that make me an unfit Minister. It's not as if Fudge would make a better one."
"Fudge?" she questioned.
"Yeah, Fudge, the BHB."
"BHB being Big Head Boy, I suppose. After all, he is Head Boy."
"I thought you didn't know him."
"I'm a prefect, James. Unlike you, I actually *have* to work, and with him no less. How he got to be Head Boy, I've got no clue. He skives off his classes and smokes marijuana."
"Marijuana as in pot? That Muggle drug?"
She purred vaguely in response.
"No wonder he's so stupid."
"Oh, no; he was always quite dense. Drugs just accentuate that feature."
It *was* true. Cornelius Fudge was a stoner. It wasn't obvious how he made his grades, but it was well known that he did. He was top of his class since his first year.
"I'll be running against him in the next campaign." James said, dragging his toe across the stone floor. "I seriously hope that by then he's gained some acumen."
"Or goes to rehab."
"Yeah," he agreed.
Lily sighed. James wasn't the easiest person to talk to. He was shrouded in a mist of intellect, and while that came off to others as pride, she was beginning to think it was fear- a narrow fear of the future and the life that was to come, no doubt, but it was fear all the same. He was facile to read; his eyes said all, but talking to a person you know way too well can be the most intricate act in the world. When talking to him, you could smother yourself in the tricky lies of contentment that coated James like butter, or you could speak the truth you knew he wanted to hear. And yet the decision was so hard for Lily. After all, he was the crush that she hated to her very bones.
"James, why are you doing it?"
He exhaled audibly. "What, Lilia?"
"Lilia?"
"Yeah, ask Sirius."
Sirius Black was James' partner in crime and left-hand man. Why left-hand? Because he wasn't right-handed, said Black. He was a gorgeous boy, much prettier than Potter, but in a difference sense. He was sharp-witted, and warn-natured, and a completely unconventional boy.
"I'll do that."
"So, what, Lilia?"
"Oh," she paused a second, gathering her previous thoughts. "Why are you doing it? You know, trying to rule magical Britain? It's not something you would do. It's a cheater's job; a liar's job. We never are governed by fair sovereigns."
"Why not?" he responded. "You just said it, Lily; we're never governed by the just. I know you don't actually like me, but you know I'm not a bad person, don't you? I'm candid and I'm fair."
"I know,"
She didn't know.
"Lilia," he said abruptly with a soft, flowing passion, "let's go down to the lake."
She nodded.
***
"I don't know why I do it." James said sincerely, while stepping back and then releasing a stone. It skipped perfectly across the surface of the lake, and then disappeared somewhere in the middle. "It's not as if I have reason to. I blew up a toilet once last year. My mother sent me a howler. I know no one thought I cared. I remember I laughed for fuck's sake. I didn't care about the howler. I don't give a rat's ass if a horde of Slytherins snicker at what 'Potty's mummy said'." He shook his head and shouted, "I don't give a damn!"
She nodded her head. She didn't understand him. His antics were amusing, sure, but was there a point?
"What I do give a damn about," he continued. "Is the look my mum gave me at Christmas. It was just a fucking toilet, but she looked as if I'd blown up Hogwarts."
Lily tried not to giggle.
James sighed. "What about you? You've got parents, I assume."
"Yeah," she said softly. "Sort of. My dad died last year."
"Attack on Muggles?" James asking, brushing the thought that Lily did not want to discuss; the Lord Voldemort, darkest wizard of the present day.
"Yeah, but not in the way you're thinking. Daddy died of lung cancer. He smoked too much."
"Cancer?"
"It's a Muggle disease. It's hard to cure. Smoking can cause it."
"Thank god I'm not a Muggle. I couldn't give up my fags if I wanted to."
She nodded in understanding. "I've never smoked because of my dad. Besides, my mum would kill me if she ever found out."
James raised an eyebrow. "She'd never have to know."
Lily shrugged, and nodded in recognition of the truth.
"Don't deny yourself the good things in life." He told her gently, taking out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. "As long as it's not drugs. Or stupidity."
She laughed. "So I can't date Cornelius? Damn."
James distinctly blanched and Lily smiled.
Lighting a cigarette, he passed it to her, and took a seat against the willow beside the lake.
She inhaled the smoky substance, and coughed out an exhale. "Point?" she asked.
"I dunno."
"So we commit suicide without reason."
"No, we give ourselves this cancer of yours and then banish it with magic."
"So there's no point?"
"Only the fun of it."
"So, no point?" she concluded in a persistent tone and he nodded.
"Exactly," he agreed.
"I like that."
Without a point, everything is so much richer, life is so much brighter. Until you see that the absence of that point is going to be your downfall, because despite all your better attempts, there's always going to be a fall. It's always there waiting for you to slip, waiting for you to die, waiting.
And Lily wasn't sure if she cared.
A/N: Finally, I'm starting to get the point! Gods, defiantly finally. This isn't going to be a short story, in case you're wondering. Well, once I edit it, it won't be. Hopefully.
Anyway, I really need to know, did I bring in the whole 'Lily likes James' thing way too fast. It seemed to me while I was writing it that it just came out of nowhere, but it's going to be necessary. The romance is a major plot line. It's not a central issue, exactly, but it can't be long and tortured either. It's supposed to be something that attacks Lily when she's dealing with all the shit that's going on. Obviously, she's going to snap. The question is when?
Thank you to everyone that reviewed. You guys are awesome! You seriously rock my socks (as does Jack Black). Please continue reviewing. And if this is still confusing everyone, tell me EXACTLY how it's confusing. I'll fix it in the next chapter.
So later days,
Hunter