Unfortunately, I don't own Harry Potter .
Belief me: If I did, Sirius would never have died!
After writing and re-writing this for ages, I finally kind of like it… I hope you do so too!
LILY:
I flop down on my bed in the dormitory and punch my pillow in frustration, dreaming of punching his head instead…
My dorm mates only glance at me and share a look, none of them dares to ask what this is all about, not that they would have to anyways, all of them can read the signs.
I rub my temples, this Potter makes me sick, I always get a headache when I spend to much time around him, that is to say, when he spends to much time around, annoying me!
"What was it this time?" Wendy asks finally, "I hope you didn't yell at him again!" When I don't answer, she gets slightly alarmed "You didn't slap him, did you?"
It's always the same, he is annoying me, and he is showing off, he is … just being stupid, selfish, pathetic him and still my friends are worried about his wellbeing!
"Well Lily," Em, my best friend, places herself on the edge of my bed "I know you don't wanna hear it, but every time I see you getting this upset about Potter doing –admit it!- actually nothing wrong, I wonder if you …"
My glare stops her mid-sentence, but still I know exactly where this would lead us. My so-called friends keep on insisting I secretly like James Potter. Not that I haven't considered it myself, to be honest.
Actually, when I met him I thought him to be rather nice. There was something in his eyes, in his laugh and in the way his whole face lit up when he smiled, that made eleven years old me like him instantly. This pleasant sensation didn't last long though…He soon started to pick on me, laughing about my shyness, my lack of knowledge about the magical world and mostly about my hair. At first I was just hurt, but once I realized his often cruel wit was always directed at those weaker than himself -like shy little me or gloomy friendless Snape- like quickly turned into dislike.
When I came back to school for my 4th year, grown out of piggy tails, freckles and the shyness and was officially acknowledged to be rather pretty, he stopped all the picking and bickering and started hitting on me instead. And to this day I'm convinced that this shallowness sealed his fate with me! I promised myself to never waste a thought at someone who just went for looks and never gave a damn about the real me.
Admittedly he kind of overcame his attitude lately. His jokes and pranks became less cruel and mostly even funny; he stopped hexing Snape and hasn't bothered me to go out with him all year. But still… I don't trust this sudden change. You are what you are… aren't you?
"Look girls, it's late, I've got a headache and I certainly don't wanna discuss this again! I'm definitely not in love with James Potter, he obviously isn't in love with me anymore and he isn't the kind of guy to drag me under a street-lamp anyways!"
Frances (a pureblood witch) asks puzzled "What's a street-lamp?" while Em giggles slightly. She is the only of my friends knowing that I dreamed forever about a guy, who would take me for a walk on a rainy night, dance with me under a street-lamp and ask me to marry him, or at least to be his girlfriend… I would take a troll, if he asked me that way, but sadly no one, not even said troll, ever tried.
The next morning my mood is still not the best. I still have a headache and to make things worse, I dreamed about Potter again.
He started invading my dreams some weeks ago. I never know what the dream was about the next morning, but I know for sure, he played a major part in it!
At the beginning I spent quite some time, trying to figure what those dreams could mean, as I already said, I even contemplated to consider to think about maybe liking him, but since that just can't be true (we are talking about shallow, pathetic Potter here!) I decided it's just my conscience dealing with all the sh…ame he gave me through the years.
In charms Potter manages to get to sit next to me (stupid Wendy, she left her place to him) and entertains himself with several attempts to talk to me or make me laugh. Once or twice I have to bite my lips to keep myself from smiling. Of course he notices and of course he can't help commenting the fact: "Oh come on Lily, just smile, I won't tell a single soul… apart from Sirius, Remus, Peter, Frank, Wendy, Em, Frances… Hagrid, Dumbledore, maybe Snape…" This time there is no way to bite back the smile, and when he beams back at me, I realize for the first time in 6 years, that he really has a rather nice smile. When the bell rings I'm somehow back in my usual good mood.
At dinner I'm still pondering this miraculous charms-lesson and the fact that today my conscience seems to be even more engrossed with James Potter than usual.
While I'm staring into my soup as if to find the answer somewhere between mashed peas and potatoes, the bench I'm sitting on moves slightly and James (when the hell did I start to call him by his Christian name?) whispers into my ear: "Still dreaming about me?"
And suddenly I know again why I don't like him, he hasn't changed, not one bit! He's still shallow, still overconfident and… here my stomach takes a little back flip… still hitting on me!
Without another word I drop my spoon into the soup, so hard the liquid splashes all over the table, and get up to leave.
But James is faster than me; he grabs my arm and turns me around to face him. For some moments that stretch into a little eternity we are staring into each others eyes and my stomach does this ridiculous back flip again.
"What is it Lily?" he finally asks, pushing a strain of hair out of my face; "That was just a joke! What the hell is wrong with you? I simply don't get it: I'm only trying to be nice to you, to be near you! And I wish you would finally see how much I try, and how much you mean to me, instead of throwing my feelings back into my face! You know what? I start to get sick of you!"
And instead of storming out of the hall myself I stand there frozen on the spot and watch his angry backside stamp away. My skin prickles where he touched me and I feel …sad!
And then finally all the pieces come thundering into place, suddenly I feel realization wash all over me. People do change! Not only has James really changed his attitude, I changed too! I forgave our rough past, I forgot about that stupid promise to myself and I started to recognize the nice, likable him from the very beginning of our acquaintance again.
I just was too blind to see it, too wrapped up in my own prejudices to believe it and most of all too stubborn to admit it!
I'm uncharacteristically quiet that evening, glancing around the common room, searching for James, who doesn't show up at all, and all the time feeling like punching my pillow again, this time frustrated about my own stupidity. How could I be so blind? How couldn't I notice that I am indeed in love with James Potter until it was too late?
"You know what? I start to get sick of you!" These two short sentences keep on ringing in my head, painfully reminding me, that I lost what I just learned to value.
In the end the girls can't take it anymore. Em puts an arm around my shoulder and they all look at me questioningly.
I spit out everything that happened over the last weeks, telling them about my dreams, the funny feelings, the struggle with my conscience and about everything I realized tonight...
When I'm finished, none of them reacts as I've expected. No sympathetic looks, no comforting nonsense, not even "I told you so!"
They are laughing!
"No way Lily, you can't be that thick! This is pathetic, you must be blind and deaf not to realize, that James Potter is crazy about you! This guy liked you for ages! And he still does, that's for sure!" Em is torn between fits of laughter and violently shaking her head.
"Well he doesn't exactly 'like' her…" Remus and Sirius must have heard the better part of our conversation –brilliant! Just brilliant! "He actually loves you, Lily!" Remus gently squeezes my hand "And since you finally came to terms with your own feelings, you maybe want to go to the library. Right now…!"
Without thinking I squeeze his hand back, make my way out of the portray hole and am running down the stairs. I'm already reaching for the handle of the door when my brain kicks back in: I have no idea what to say…