Oct 26, 2005

Gasp.

What happened to all my nice reviewers?

As I promised, I'll be jumping into the action starting with this chapter. Have I mentioned that I hate Harry/Ginny or Draco/Ginny pairings? Because I do.

I think it's because I don't like Ginny.

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Chapter 7: The Library

Lily sighed as she brushed a strand of auburn hair from her eyes and checked the clock impatiently. He was late again. Typical. She had even arrived five minutes tardy purposely, anticipating his lateness. But here she sat, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in the seat she had reserved for this night, and decidedly alone.

She hoped he would show up. She had told him the time and date clearly after all, even tracking him down at lunch to remind him lest he forget. Lily sighed, and endured yet another sharp glare from the hawk-faced librarian, Madam Pince, and contemplated leaving.

She was forestalled as a tall black haired boy strode into the room confidently, looked around, spotted her, waved, and waltzed over. He was wearing his maroon Quidditch robes, and she breathed out, trying to force down the anger that had arisen with his nonchalant arrival.

Lily waited as James sat down next to her, wincing at his rain-damp clothes.

"You're late."

James frowned. "What? No I'm not."

She nodded her head toward the clock, which read fifteen minutes past eight. "Fifteen minutes late," she added.

His eyes followed the direction of her nod, and then he shrugged. "I had Quidditch practice."

"Your practice ended half an hour ago."

"Yes, bu—Wait, how did you know my practice ended half an hour ago?"

Lily sighed. "Sometimes, Potter," she replied, "I really question your intelligence."

James suddenly broke out into a wide grin. "You were watching us, weren't you?"

"No," she scoffed.

"So that was you I saw down at the stadium."

Lily gnashed her teeth together and tried to keep her voice level. "Salina was watching Sirius. I—"

"D'you want to go to Hogsmede with me next month?"

"—was reading," she finished. "What?"

"What?" he repeated after her, his eyes twinkling.

"What did you say just then?"

"Oh. Well, I had Quidditch practice, you see, and afterwards—"

"No, Potter, you prat, the other thing."

James frowned. "What other thing?"

"The other thing."

He just sat there, looking perplexed, and Lily threw her hands up in frustration. That's what I get for talking to an insufferable git, she thought bitterly.

Taking a deep breath and trying to refrain from jinxing Potter to oblivion and beyond, Lily pulled out a roll of parchment and her quill and ink jar. With a deft motion, she unrolled the parchment, gripped the quill in her hand, and looked at him expectantly. When he didn't speak she had to fight down another tendril of temper.

"So," she said matter of factly, "the project."

---

James nodded along as Lily began a lengthy monologue of her research for the potion, dropping a casual "Mm hmm," or a "Yes, that's right," now and then to give the impression that he was paying attention.

Nothing could be farther from the truth, as he hadn't listened to a word she was saying.

"Right," he commented wisely as his eyes took in her slightly flushed features, her reddish brown hair, and her slim figure. Faintly he realized that he had never paid attention to what a beautiful shade of emerald her eyes were. He wondered if they brightened when she laughed, and vowed he would someday find out.

Her hair, on the other hand, was unfortunately bound up in a ponytail—a shame—though a few rebellious tendrils escaped the tie here and there, framing her face and lending her an almost angelic expression.

He hadn't really looked at her, he realized. All these years of bickering and squabbling, and he hadn't the chance to, until now. But all that had changed.

James grinned mentally. She was a beauty, all right, and someday she would be his.

But not now.

Now, as he watched, those large green eyes darkened in anger and her ruby lips parted to form his name.

"James!" she growled a second time, her voice barely below the allotted noise level of the strictly watched library, "You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying, have you?"

He snapped out of his reverie and put on a hurt expression. "Of course I have, Lily dearest, why ever would you think otherwise?"

Lily scoffed and brushed a tendril of hair out of her eyes. "Because, Potter dear," she mocked, "You just nodded and said 'Uh huh' to my last statement."

He didn't reply.

"I had just told you that my socks were pink and that I was secretly snogging Peter."

James blushed slightly, and ran a hand through his wet hair. "Oh," he said sheepishly. He looked around awkwardly for a moment, then sat up again suddenly. "You aren't, are you?"

Lily grinned, looking surprisingly like Sirius did when he was in the midst of a particularly good prank. "Maybe," she said lightly.

He blanched, trying unsuccessfully to quell the mental image that arose in his mind from her words, shuddering at the thought of her and Pettigrew groping each other in a dark broom closet somewhere.

"As I was saying," Lily began again irritably, though still smirking slightly, "from what I read, Chimera's horn and mulberry root apparently have sleep inducing properties; I'm sure we could include that in our potion somehow."

James, who had been determidely listening this time, shook his head. "You know Chimera's horn isn't in our standard set of potion ingredients, and I doubt Slughorn has any." He was completely unprepared for her next reaction.

"Dammit Potter," she all but screeched, almost knocking over her ink well in her anger, "What the hell's wrong with you?"

"W…what?" James sputtered, at a loss, trying to figure out what he could've possibly done to offend her this time. He had been piously paying attention, so he couldn't possibly imagine why she was so upset.

"If you'd read the books," Lily snarled, "You would know that Chimera's horn is one of the deadliest poisons known to wizards."

"Gods Lily," James said angrily, "I haven't had the time. The match against Hufflepuff is coming up, you know, and—"

"Right. Of course. You never have the time. I suppose all those hours relaxing in front of the fire were for meditation purposes?"

"Well…" he shrugged, "that's not exactly a lie."

Lily looked as if she were about to explode, but had been cleverly stoppered with a cork, and James mentally thanked whatever deity that had thought to leave that stopper.

She instead settled for a low growl. "Potter," she said menacingly, "I am this close," she held up her thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart, "from hexing you."

"I know."

She stared at him, and her anger appeared to have drained a little. "And…you don't care?"

"I could just as easily stop you."

"You're wand's not even out."

James reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand with a flourish.

"I hate you James," Lily spat angrily, though her raging temper had cooled to mere embers.

"Will you go to Hogsmede with me, Lily?" James questioned suddenly, wondering dimly why Madam Pince hadn't already strutted over to toss them out of the library.

What remained of Lily temper was gone in an instant, leaving looking considerably smaller. "What?"

He grabbed her suddenly and pulled her to him, pressing his lips onto hers fiercely, desperately inhaling her scent and clinging to her lips. Her initial cry of surprise quickly turned into a muffled yelp of protest as she pushed against his chest in an effort to break the contact, but James held on to her, his Quidditch-honed muscles locking her in a tight embrace.

She remained helpless for a few seconds, then kicked him savagely under the table, forcing him to fall back from her and gasp in pain. Lily glared at him through fiery eyes, panting slightly from their embrace.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING, POTTER!" she screeched, her surroundings apparently forgotten, as she leapt up and aimed her wand at him.

James grinned, recovered from the pain from her kick. "You know you enjoyed it, Evans," he replied smartly and coolly, reaching out to her again.

"Get away from me."

"Will you go to Hogsmede with me next month?"

Lily glared at him, the hand that was holding the wand trembling fiercely in anger. Her eyes had darkened to a deep forest green. "Get away from me, Potter," she growled, her voice low but shaking with rage, "Don't you ever, ever do that again, do you understand?"

His nonchalance dissappated, leaving him feeling confused at her strangely negative reaction. "Lily…" he began slowly.

"Do you understand?"

James merely nodded, thoroughly befuddled now. Lily gathered up her things, not bothering to put them nicely into her bag, turned on her heel, and left the library, still fuming, not looking at him once.

He stared after her for a few seconds more, then shook his head incredulously. What the hell was wrong with her? Sure, they had never exactly loved each other, but that hardly explained her response. He was, so to speak, completely at a loss. After all, he had done this what must have been a hundred times, to a hundred different witches, and every time they had been elated, or, at the very least, he'd always gotten a nervous smile.

But now here she was, shouting at him, and he couldn't for the life of him understand what he had done wrong.

Lily's different, James remarked Remus' voice in his head, and James growled angrily.

"Dammit, Moony," he muttered to no one in particular, fully aware that, had it been any other day, the library would be full of students who would now be staring incredulously at him.

An owl hooted somewhere outside, a door creaked, and somewhere among the bookshelves dry pages rustled. James sighed. She just needed a little more time. A couple more days.

He grinned, his old spirit returning, gathered up his things, and made for the door.

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I wouldn't mind a review or two.

…do YOU know the muffin man? O.O