Chapter Two, Our Boys

Once the last remnants of Christmas dinner had been cleared away, Dumbledore give them the wink, and the last stragglers wandered off. The boys joined up with the girls, talking.

When she noticed James angling to be near her, Lily excused herself to go exploring. She was known for it; Lily loved to wander around the castle, often finding new and exciting places.

As their voices disappeared, she pulled her sweater tighter around herself, the castle was colder farther away from the more used areas. Lily walked through the coridor of the unused classrooms of the first floor, coming to the familiar polished marble staircase behind a blank green tapestry.

She had examined the tapestry before, wondering if there was something about it that she was missing; something more. But she couldn't catch anything, not even running her hands over the unbelievably smooth fabric.

She disappeared behind the tapestry, sitting on the smooth, cold steps. Her cheeks in her hands. Where was he?

V

Alice also pulled off from the group.

"I need to go to the library," she said shortly. "I left my sweater there this morning."

"You were with us all this morning, Ally. We went skating--" Alectai said, confused.

"I NEED to go to the LIBRARY." Alice said again, running her fingers through her hair impatiently.

"Oh." Alectai got it when she realized that Frank had disappeared. "Right."

Alice shook her head and watched them leave, Sirius telling a joke. He and Alectai were walking behind the group, and he took her hand when the others couldn't see.

Alectai turned back to her friend. "I hope you get some, girlie!" she mouthed. Alice turned and walked in the opposite direction, her hands shaking.

She did meet Frank at the library, actually. Madam Pince had locked the doors while she was at the feast, but Frank was sitting outside when she got there. He smiled wide when he saw her, as he always did. He pulled her into a tight embrace, surprising her.

"I was startin' ta think you'd forgot me." he smiled. Alice shook her head, expressionless.

"Alectai was being difficult."

"Well, good to know that lass in't changin." She didn't smile, didn't look at him, and he didn't know what to do with her. He pulled a tiny package out of his pocket, and they started walking.

"I got this for you." confused, Alice took it from his outstretched palm.

"What is it?" she asked, looking up at him. He laughed.

"You'll know when you open it," he said, giving her a tiny nudge. He watched her turn it over and over in her hands.

Alice tucked it into the pocket of her jeans.

"You won't open it?" he asked, his face falling.

"I will."

They walked in silence, his throat choked up. He had wanted so badly to surprise her. He loved her…maybe. He didn't know if it was love. He had never had anyone to instruct him on matters like that. He had so carefully picked out her present, spending months going through catalogs, trying to find the perfect thing.

"What is it for?" she asked suddenly. Frank looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, only looking straight ahead at the corridor they were walking into. "Christmas present?"

He nodded. She looked so pretty in her soft lavender sweater. "And…to say thank-you."

"Thank you? For what?" she raised an eyebrow

"For…this. You know. What we're doin'. I like it."

Alice nodded. "I see."

They walked in silence.

They turned into a tiny alcove and stopped. Gargoyles leered at them, and Alice shivered; she was freezing. This was their place. It was one of the space bedrooms used for guests to the castle. It wasn't exactly a secret, but it wasn't too well known, which had kept them from ever being discovered in the act. The room itself was beautiful. Rich, red wooden paneling and a big squishy bed. There was a wide bay window on the opposite window from the bed, with a little curved table under it.

Frank shut the door behind him and gently slid a hand up Alice's sweater…

V

When it was over, they didn't look at each other. Alice was sitting with her legs hugged to her chest, pressed up against the wall. She was freezing.

"So," she said quietly. "Was that the worst shag you've ever had?"

Frank looked at her, a lump rising in his throat of her being so defeated looking.

"Well, at least now I can say that the shiverin' thing, while being vibrate-ey, is not sexy."

She looked at him. "How was that even a question?"

Frank shrugged. "You don't know 'till you know."

Alice suddenly jumped out of bed and started dressing. Her back to him, pulled on her thin white underwear and lacy pink bra. (She had never had matching underwear like Alectai did.) Frank looked at her and sighed. She always got like this, unless she was drunk. He sometimes brought a little lemon vodka or some peach schnapps with him on their excursions. He loved getting her drunk. He loved drunk Alice. When she was drunk, she would talk to him during sex, and smile and laugh. And when they were done she would curl up in his arms and lay her head on his chest. He often wondered what could be better than that. She would let him kiss her then, which she never let him do when she was sober. Alice was a wonderful kisser; warm and patient and inviting.

He loved that she would let him touch her when she was drunk. He loved that. Usually she stiffened to his touch. When she was drunk he could let his hands roam when they were kissing; touch her breasts and run his hands through her silky hair.

But the best was that she would talk to him, really talk. About how plain and ordinary she often felt, and how she thought she was the sparrow amongst her group of hummingbird friends. Never as beautiful, never as confident or quick. And didn't know how to get away fast enough.

Frank could talk to her, and did. He told her how lonely he often felt, and how she made him feel better. If he was drunk, too, he would tell her how much he loved her. They never talked like that when they were sober. Frank often wondered if she remembered anything that happened in her drunken state when she was completely coherent.

She didn't act like it.

"Alice?" he was making little whorls with his finger on the smooth satin bedspread.

"Yes, Frank?"

"Please come back to bed."

Alice sucked in her stomach so that she could button her jeans and ignored Frank.

"You know I can't." she said plainly, avoiding his gaze.

"But why?" he asked loudly. "You always do this! Always! And it's holidays. You don't have homework or a package to send or need to wash your hair, and your friends are off getting smashed and won't be looking for you for hours. Please. Just stay the night with me."

She merely shook her head. Her hair was falling out of the knot she had tied it up in and it was driving him crazy. She was driving him crazy. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, talk to her. He slowly got out of the bed, dragging the sheet to the floor, and pulled on his boxers for the sake of modesty. Alice was looking at him and he reached out to her and pulled her down onto the bed, where they lay looking at each other.

Frank smoothed her hair with his hand.

"Open up to me, Alice." he kissed her, slow and soft, until she roughly pushed him away and leaped away from him.

"Don't ever kiss me, Frank! I told you never to kiss me!" she yelled angrily, making for the door.

"Alice! Stop!" Frank yelled suddenly, so loudly that she snapped to attention, her hand already on the brass handle.

"Please--please, just open your gift." He said pleadingly. He picked up his wand from the bedside table and waved the small package over to her.

"No, Frank, I will not accept that!" she said angrily.

"What? Why--?"

"Because, I'm not your prostitute!" she left the room crying, the door swung wide open. Alice meant to run away, but all she got as a few feet before she sank down against the cold stone, sobbing.

He didn't love, her not really, she thought. She just wasn't that sort of girl, the kind that could be loved by someone like Frank. He was brilliant, strong, handsome and kind, a truly good person. But Alice…she just didn't have that sparkle. She didn't have that sparkle, didn't have what it took to really capture the attention of a boy like him. Her friends did, but not Alice…

V

Lily had been waiting by herself for forty-five minutes. Where was he? It was their anniversary, even. Well, a little bit. One year, if you could consider it a relationship. But he had mentioned it to her, so he had remembered.

They had met a year before. He had been sitting quietly in a little alcove under a window, scribbling in a little notebook. She had fallen quite head over heals on top of him, causing her to shriek and him to cut himself with the sharp edge of his quill. She had made a right state of herself trying to patch him up, and they had gotten to talking. Well, she had talked, mostly, at first. She talked about how she felt out of place most of the time, among her "real" witch friends, when she was only half a one.

But eventually, he opened up. It took a long time, he was shy and often felt awkward around the beautiful, desirable Lily Evans. But he came to talk, and she listened. He was an only child, and his parents fought--constantly. His friends were cold and failed to understand…anything.

Lily signed and stood up, ready to leave. She took one last look up the winding stairs, hoping to maybe see him. But no.

Theirs had been an improbable relationship at best. They were so different.

Lily adjusted the strap of her bra--she had narrow shoulders and it was always falling--and felt another hand tap her shoulder softly.

She turned around and smiled briefly before his lips closed on hers. A deep giggle went through her chest and she slid a hand through his thick black hair. She loved the way he smelled, like cinnamon and pine sap.

They pulled apart and he held her for a long time.

"You didn't think I was coming." he said softly into her hair.

"Well, I waited for almost an hour. You didn't leave a note or…"

"I got held up." he said, smiling slyly.

"What's that smile for?" Lily asked warily. He smiled wider.

"I'm not telling."

"But I know that smile!" she laughed and started to tickle him."C'mon! What is it?"

They both began to laugh.

"Sev! Tell me!" she protested loudly.

The pair suddenly heard another voice and they ran around a corner, laughing silently.

Lily and Sev were, of course, never meant to be. She was pretty and popular and a Gryffindor, and he was quiet and sulky and a Slytherin. But they could talk, and both of them were quite fond of the benefits that went along with relationships. And, all in all, they weren't really that different, anyway.

"Come on, doll, we're going someplace." he said to her quietly.