It's not mine; it's all J.K. Rowling's.
Chapter 13: In Which Lily Figures it Out
Or
In Which Thirteen Really Does Prove to be Lucky
Where we last abandoned our heroine:
When I looked back to James I got a start ... he was gone.
Gone ...
ooo…ooo
He'd left ...
I could barely hear his footsteps racing up the stairs over the racket in the common room … but they were there.
He hadn't heard me.
Suddenly the air in the stairwell seemed to be choking me and the walls were getting closer and closer. I had to get out of here.
I fled, flying down the steps into the common room, past three very surprised looking Marauders, out of the portrait hole, and into the Hospital Wing, where I promptly threw myself down on my bed.
I rolled over and inspected my fluffy slippers. Did he really love me? Did I really love him? I hadn't meant to say that; it just sort of popped out, like grapes when you're trying to spear them with your fork and they keep popping out from under the prongs and ending up in the lap of the unfortunate person sitting across the table from you.
What I'm feeling is clearly not love; I'm just a poor, helpless grape flying into Potter's handsome face.
I mean, let's look at the facts:
Liking to kiss someone isn't the same as loving someone.
Being grateful that someone rescues you from all dangers in Transfiguration isn't love.
Thinking someone's cute when they blush isn't love.
Wanting to run your fingers through someone's hair isn't love.
Enjoying spending time with someone isn't love.
Fantasizing about white picket fences isn't love.
Seeking someone out because they make you laugh isn't love.
Being willing to take a curse for someone isn't love.
Enjoying a feeling of safety and comfort beyond anything imaginable when with someone isn't love (or more specifically when holding their hands, but they're such nice hands).
Wanting to make someone smile isn't love.
Feeling whole when holding someone's hand isn't love (although that could have been something I ate for dinner … I personally suspect the biscuits).
But … but what happens when you put all of those facts together?
Oh no ... it can't be ... I can't be in love with him.
What will Ally say? What will Sirius say? What will my parents say? What will his parents say? Most importantly, what will James say?
I'm in love with James Tristan Potter. Heavens help me!
Are there even any deities out there in the great wide beyond listening to me right now? Well, if you're listening, PLEASE don't abandon me now! (Not to sound picky or anything, but if you deities could perhaps arrange for a very understanding and wise (in the confusing ways of men) goddess, I would be ever so grateful).
You know, this whole love thing could be a wee bit of a problem seeing as I haven't exactly been nice to James in the past (in fact, he seems to think I hate him). We have been working together as Heads this year, though! That really ought to count for something. But still, I just tolerated him; it's not like we were even friends.
Oh … Oh no … Oh no no no no no! I can't believe it. I can't believe it. I refuse to accept it! I REFUSE! (and there's nothing you can do about it!)
Oh, butt monkeys, fine, fine, I accept it. (I still can't believe it, though).
I've been fooling myself all year. All year. As in the whole Year, as in since September, as in since the Hogwarts Express, I've been lying to myself! How pitiful is that? All that time I said I "tolerated" him, I was making up excuses to spend time with him, wasn't I?
All those times I made him patrol with me when I didn't need the help and knew he had a test to study for (as if he studies, but he might have needed the time for his closet studying and it would only have been fair to return the favor since when I had lots of work he always let me off patrolling). Or what about going to patrol with him to "keep him in line" when it wasn't even my turn!
How pitiful is it when you lie to yourself? I'm pitiful! Pitiful!
If the government program that's reading my thoughts is still listening it's probably having a right good laugh right now. Ha Ha Ha (FYI, I was being sarcastic). Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I'll have my revenge one day. I'll find you in your secret government lair and hex all of your underwear onto the tops of your heads and with a lovely permanent stick charm I'll affix your darling undergarments to your hideous bald spots. So beat that!
I rolled over, buried my head in my pillow, and screamed. That actually made me feel a little better. Screaming can definitely help with problems such as this … it just can't help much.
James and I need relationship counseling and we don't even have a relationship! What's going to happen if we do get into a relationship! We'll be in counseling every day. We'll live in counseling!
But I now have an even bigger problem to deal with before I need to worry about the cost of live in counseling:
How in the world am I going to work up the courage to tell James how I feel? He's right! How do you go about telling someone you love them and want to date them and marry them and have kids with them and buy a house with a white picket fence with them … well, maybe I'll leave out the bit about the marrying … and the kids … and the house with a white picket fence (I wouldn't want to scare him off just yet)?
How do you do it?
Should I just walk up to him and say, "Hey, handsome, I'm madly in love with you. Will you go out with me?"
Wow, that sounds pretty good. In fact, that sounds really good. I'm such a genius.
But when would I do it? He's probably kind of … gee, I don't know … angry or he could be hurt or he could be sulky or unhappy or … well, let's just say he probably won't be coming to visit me any time soon.
Wait! Today's Friday! And if today's Friday that means tomorrow is Saturday! I know that might seem obvious (and pointless), but what you fail to see is that since tomorrow is Saturday, tomorrow is the day of Gryffindor's big Quidditch match against the Slytherins!
So I could go the match and tell him how I feel (using that ultra awesome line I came up with/borrowed from James)!
It could be really romantic, confessing love on a Quidditch pitch. Then again, a moon lit picnic would be better and in all honesty the confessing will probably happen by the locker rooms and not on the pitch at all, but still love is just a romantic wonderful bliss inducing feeling.
If only he would stop thinking that I hate him since, well … I don't! (Quite the opposite really.)
ooo…ooo
"You don't understand! I have to go! This is a matter of Life and Death!" I cried, debating whether falling to my knees and clutching at my heart would be too dramatic. I'm already on my tenth desperate plea to go to the Quidditch match. You'd think she'd have given in by now.
Madam Jeffries really doesn't understand. If I don't go to this Quidditch match, I'll lose the perfect opportunity to tell James how I feel and if I don't do it today, as planned, I'll probably put off making another plan for … forever! And if I put off making another plan forever, I'll die old and alone in a dusty cookie cutter house packed with collectable figurines in front of the TV. tuned into soap operas and no one will find my body until it's decomposed past the state of being even recognizable and even then the only reason the neighbors will come over is that an odd smell seems to be emanating from the house and it will affect their enjoyment of their patio!
I don't want to die like that!
This really is Life and Death!
"Lily, dear, that spell severely injured you. I can't just let you leave."
She could just come out and admit she doesn't want me to flip out and go all possessed and psycho on the people at the Quidditch match. Which I wouldn't since I'm not bloody possessed anyway!
"Please!" I pleaded, putting on my best, kicked puppy dog look. No one can refuse that! No one! She has to say yes; eleven is an excellent number. It clearly shows I'm eager, but not that I'm obsessed (which I am, but it would be best if she didn't know that).
"I'm afraid the answer's no. Now please take your potion," she said, pushing a glass of the vile 'potion' (I suspect it's really toxic sludge that's been titrated into dirty dish water from the Slytherin table) toward me.
It's time to take desperate measures. It is time for … the Truth.
shudder - The Truth.
It's a big thing. I never thought I'd have to sink this low. I never thought I'd reach this low point at the bottom of the bottomless pit, but I am truly, utterly, and most sincerely desperate.
I don't want to die alone; I …. I want to die with James … or at the very least with him holding my hand (I would, of course, love for him to go on living for years after me, but I except he would be miserable because we are soul mates (Doesn't that sound so wonderful! Soul mates. Lily and James … soul mates. AHHH! It sounds so good. I can't even contain my excitement. If I weren't trying to make a good impression on Madam Jeffries, I would start jumping on the bed from pure excitement right now!) and when your soul mate dies … well I'm just going to assume it's not very pleasant. I know I wouldn't want to live without him.) and I want to marry him and have kids with him (well maybe a kid, kids sound rather hard to manage and what if they're all like him? Good gods, I'd go to my grave prematurely for lack of sanity).
"I have to go because I have an important message for the Head Boy." My twelfth request.
Alright, alright, it's not quite the truth, but it's frighteningly close and the whole truth would be such a big step for me. I'm not ready yet! I can't do big steps!
Madam Jeffries crossed her arms. "I'll consider it," she said, "If you drink your potion."
I eyed the foul concoction. Is love worth drinking that?
I thought about it … thought some more … Oh, who am I kidding, what's there to think about? … Of course NOT!
Of course, by the time I reached that conclusion I'd already chugged the half the potion and was trying not to gag.
My stupid misbehaving hand! I didn't tell it to pick up that glass, much less drink the potion! It must be the voices again.
Wait … those voices aren't really voices … they're me, my subconscious … I figured that out, didn't I? Yes, I did, in Transfiguration right before I dove in front of that curse.
So … I told my hand to pick up the potion without realizing it because … I do love James and would drink this disgusting potion every god's forsaken day for the rest of my life if I spent those days by his side.
I never realized I was so into self-delusion (and wow that was really sappy. I'm so lucky that only those secret government agents are listening to my thoughts).
Ok, I'm making a new rule to live by.
Rule Number 39:
I, Lily Marie Evans, am no longer allowed to be into self-delusion (it's just bad).
I threw back the rest of the potion and swallowed it. Completely nasty, but well worth it.
"Thank you," Madam Jeffries said, picking up the glass and making to leave.
"Wait!" I cried, "What about the Quidditch match?"
"I've considered it and the answer is no."
Oh gods! No! No! I have to go!
"I love him!" I yelled at her retreating back.
Merlin, that felt brilliant to yell out loud.
"I have to tell him! You have to let me go before I lose my courage! That's the reason I've been acting odd!" I cried, the pitch of my voice increasing exponentially with each word, "I didn't know what was happening and I was scared, but I know now. I love him! I want to date him and marry him and have children with him and grow old with him and die with him and if I don't tell him right now I'm going to start doubting it and then I'll lose this once in a life time chance to be helplessly, recklessly, blissfully happy for the rest of my life!"
I stopped, my breath coming in short hitches, nearly in tears. That was my thirteenth plea. Ah, piece of sh … shoelaces, why couldn't I have asked one more time or one less! Thirteen is unlucky! She'll never say yes now!
Oh merciful gods of the number thirteen, please, please, I need her to say yes! And I apologize most profusely for calling your sacred and all-knowing number unlucky, it is, of course, the luckiest number ever in existence.
Madam Jeffries stood there, staring at me for a good minute in complete shock. This, of course, gave me ample time to turn bright Gryffindor red and wonder at my sanity. I've probably just proved in Madam Jeffries' eyes that I am possessed (which I'm not!). Sure I got a little worked up, but I'm in love, so it's understandable! You would get worked up, too, if you'd just realized you were in love!
"You'll have to be back here in three hours exactly," she said smartly, moving toward my clothes, which were folded over a chair, and bringing them to me. "And please try not to let any of the professors see you."
Praise be to the gods of the number thirteen! I love you to pieces! I'll repay you somehow. I will. I'll … I'll stop using the number twelve on my homework questions and use 13 twice in a row instead! I love thirteen so much! Best number in existence, no competition!
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I yelled, throwing my arms around her neck, nearly in tears, to give her a tight hug. "I won't let anyone see me!"
She smiled, "I was young and in love once myself. You should enjoy it while you can." I had already torn off my PJs and was shoving my jeans on. Ally had brought them for me since I'd forgotten to pick up regular clothes on my trip to the dorm (which no one should technically know about anyway). It's lucky she did too since the clothes I'd been wearing when I'd blocked the curse were rather beyond repair. I yanked the t-shirt over my head and smiled back at Madam Jeffries.
"I'm going to have the rest of my life to enjoy it." I told her. And it's going to be wonderful. I just know it. This isn't a crush or lust or early relationship bliss … this is true love in it's purest form. What else could it be? What else is so easily mistaken for hate? I hated him with such passion it was really love. How odd is that? Well, anyway, everyone knows true love lasts forever … plus two days, so I'll have a very long time to enjoy my newly discovered feelings.
I walked out of the hospital wing and saw the halls were already empty … that means the match has already started! I ran down the staircase into the entry way and burst out of the doors into the sunshine. I could barely make out the players flying over the pitch since I was so far away, but one fleck of red and gold caught my eye and an irrepressible grin emerged on my lips.
This love thing is awesome … this is the best I've felt in days … months … years … ever. After I tell him though, he'll kiss me, right? Now that … that will blow the happiness meter right out of this galaxy.
I hurried toward the pitch. After reaching it, I tried to decide what to do.
Should I wait for James in the locker room or should I watch from the stands and come down to the locker room after the match? Well, if I wait in the locker room no one will see me, but then I won't be able to watch the delectably sexy man I love play Quidditch.
Hmm … yeah, just in case you're wondering, I'm already halfway up the stairs to the student standing area. Go figure. I mean, me, not watch James play Quidditch … not likely.
Once at the top, I shouldered past some rather raucous Gryffindor first years and secured a spot right at the front of the stand.
"Slytherin scores!" The announcer shouted using that long announcer-ish (very descriptive I know, but I'm rather preoccupied right now trying to express my support for Gryffindor by booing at the top of my lungs) voice.
I looked up and saw James flying high above the game, eyes scanning for that little fleck of gold that would win the game. He looks so perfect in his Quidditch uniform. He looks like he could do anything; he looks like he's in charge; he looks like nothing will ever stop him. And nothing ever has, he has never once (not even that time he was playing with a cold) not caught the snitch.
My eyes strayed to Jennifer Bell as she whipped around a Slytherin chaser and scored.
"10 points to Gryffindor!"
I joined the deafening cheers. Then watched in horror as a bludger bat connected with Jennifer's knee. Gods, I'd forgotten why I hate Slytherin matches so much.
They're filthy cheaters! I hate cheaters! All cheaters should be found, tarred, feathered, and forced to dance the chicken dance on their table in the Great Hall during dinner!
Unfortunately cheaters generally get off scotch free.
My eyes immediately sought James, to assure myself he was fine. He looked fine … very very fine … he looked exceedingly, wonderfully fine … yeah … he also looked uninjured. I need to stop getting distracted by his fineness.
He gestured for a time out and flew over to Jennifer, who was struggling to stay in the air and clutch pitifully at her knee at the same time. He helped her onto his broom being very gentlemanly.
Have I mentioned that I don't really like Jennifer? She's horrendously ugly and dumb as a doornail – she isn't even good at Quidditch!
Ok … ok … I might be a wee bit jealous that James has his arms wrapped around her, but only a wee bit … honestly!
Do you think it's too much to wish she'd just fall off of his broom? I mean, they're only 20 feet from the ground, that wouldn't hurt … much.
Oh gods. I'm jealous! Am I so insecure about my love that I must resort to being jealous?
YES! Yes, I am! I would be much less insecure if he actually knew I like/love him, but he doesn't (and even then, knowing me, I'd still probably be jealous).
I watched as James gently set down, hovering just above the ground. He got off his broom and swung Jennifer off into his arms. Stupid, hairless, wig wearing, backstabbing … ugh!
I angrily tightened my hands on the stadium rail. Trying to suppress the hot surge of jealously tripping up my veins. I let out a long breath as James finally handed Jennifer to Remus, who'd come running onto the field.
I feel innumerably better now that she's out of James' arms. Is this how I'm going to be for… forever? All jealous and stuff? Maybe this falling in love thing wasn't such a good idea after all.
Yeah, it probably was a bad idea … NO! No!
Lily Marie Evans, pull yourself together. You will not talk yourself out of this. This is the best and most important thing you'll ever do. Well maybe not ever, but up to this point in your life. You're in love and you're not getting out of it!
I need a chocolate chip cookie. A really big one with extra large chocolate chips. I want at least 20 more chocolate! Darn, they should sell snacks at school Quidditch matches, like they do at muggle baseball games. I could go for some Cracker Jacks right now. I bet you could make a fortune selling candy at matches. I mean, there's just so much stress … and what better way to deal with stress than candy. I checked my pockets. Nothing … not even a measly chocolate frog.
I need chocolate!
Look at me! I'm practically pulling my hair out!
Will Emerson just take the freaking penalty shot already?
Yes! Gryffindor rocks!
I cupped my hands over my mouth, "Take that you filthy cheating Slytherins!"
I don't like cheaters! They bother me.
One of the Slytherin beaters shot a dirty look toward us Gryffindors in the stands, which we, of course, responded to with jeers, rude hand gestures, and insults about his mother.
Generally speaking Gryffindors are nice people, but get us on the Quidditch pitch playing Slytherin and we're the meanest, rudest, and loudest bunch of idiots this side of the Milky Way.
Besides, Washam's mother really is quite ugly.
My eyes flicked up to James again, who was being marked by the Slytherin seeker and seemed more preoccupied trying to lose him then with trying to find the snitch.
Wait … holy sh … sumo wrestlers!
The Slytherin seeker … it's Mr. Hulk!
ooo…ooo
Thank you for reading! I hope you liked the new chapter! If reviewing tickles your fancy, I wouldn't mind a few.
Now, down to business … I apologize for my slow updating. I wish I could tell you that I'll get the next chapter up more quickly, but unfortunately I fear it's going to be quite the opposite. So I'm apologizing in advance for making everyone wait so long. You may, of course, yell at me about it in your reviews if that'll make you feel better. It won't let me go any faster, but I'll read every one and feel terribly guilty.
Clarification of one thing nearly everyone asked … No, James didn't hear Lily.
Daystar – I'm wondering if I even want to college. Is college really all that great? And why in the world do we have Yom Kippur off? I just don't get it! And I don't want to do my homework!
HauntedAngel: Oh, I'm sure Sirius had something to do with it. He really can blow up just about anything.
Skyhoofhearted: But cliffhangers are fun!
ThePhantomsRedRose: I know, I didn't realize either until I turned out the lights. They really ought to warn you.
PenguinBuddy: Vittles was angry with James. He'd been publicly humiliated by him and he wanted a bit of revenge, to prove he was superior in a way.
TajM: You're probably right, but I was simply drawing from my own wardrobe, so I didn't really consider the timelines.
PsychoLeopard: Sorry I over did it. I'll try to work on that in the future.
ApplePie and Piella: Maybe next chapter.
LCH8292: He was embarrassed, I think.
Withered Quill: Well here's your fix. You have to try and hold on until next time!
Thanks and Hugs to: Boogie, GoddessoftheMaaN, Briee, Mischief16, Siriusly.Mad.for.Sweets, missprongs07, ahhhh, genuinescence, Bucky Katt Rocks, xXxSilverWolfxXx, Heiress-To-The-Dark-Throne, graceypoo, famousindafuture, SuperSpy, Sirael, HarryluvsMoaningMyrtle, Hurleygurl, PurplePixies, misha1989, Neha Singh, xXfiRePhoEnixXx, Bittybye2002, GaryLovesPickles, Sarah, OnerousOrangutang, audreyblaine, Kuddls, abbu jabbu, wishingbutterfly, gldnsunsprite21, J.E.A.R.K.Potter, sodafizzz19, hawaiiangirl, SerenityRose016, squash, Kiyda, Swishy Willow Wand, x-woman1, doe, Trapped Rabbit, Miss Mady, Procrastinator-starting2moro, LilyEPProngsLuver55, vegetarians will rule the Earth, maraudersgurl18, Zilla McFilla, UNLIKELYTOBEARIT, Jami, sexyteleguchica, mfowl, Duck-a-roo, sarahhhhhhhhh, funkysirius, Charity Firewarden, EmeraldEyez1728, il0v3captain0ats, kez192, and WhiteCamellia.