Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta)

Song: Worst In Me by Unlike Pluto

The Denial

Potter didn't stare at Lily the next day like he usually did. In fact, he hardly even spared a glance in her general direction at all. It was like he'd gotten the reaction he'd wanted out of her — being flustered and confused — and had now moved on to the next cornered mouse to play with.

Lily tried to ignore the feeling of disappointment gnawing away at the lining of her stomach. This is good. This is for the best. His attention had been nothing but a nuisance her whole life. She convinced herself that she in no way missed it — she had just grown accustomed to it was all.

It was also completely unrelated that she got up at the crack of dawn and pushed herself harder than ever jogging around the lake the following morning. Lily truly loved this time of day — the peachy colors of the sunrise as they bled over the water, the newborn unicorns that timidly drank by the shore with their mothers, the peace of the silence all around her. Running was when Lily could think. It was when she could breathe.

And yes, at the opposite end of the lake was a trusty old tree with a thick sturdy branch perfect for hanging leg raises. Lily had been 14 years old when the orphanage she and Petunia lived at (at least over the summers for Lily) had performed their annual physical exams. Besides all the average run-of-the-mill measurements like weights and heights, the newly appointed warden had decided that she wanted statistics on each girl's fitness levels — as if they could be a selling point to attract new parents. Like, 'Hey, look at this girl! Your potential future daughter can run a three minute kilometer! Better snatch her up quickly!'

Lily knew in her heart it would make no difference — the older girls were never adopted and had to just wait to age out of the system — but she'd thrown herself into the new fitness program headfirst anyway. Pleasing people was in her blood, impressing people was just who she was. If she was going to do anything, she wanted to be the best at it. She wanted to be perfect. After all, what choice did she really have? She didn't fit in anywhere, with Muggles, with witches and wizards… Trying to be flawless was as much about pride as it was survival. Showing weakness was not a luxury that Lily Evans could afford.

The physical evaluations had all been fine and dandy until the testing had moved onto core strength. Sit-ups? Sure, she did hundreds easily, leaving all the other girls in the dust. (She relished in Petunia's break in character when she accidentally acknowledged her younger sister's existence to throw a nasty look her way.) Planks? Awesome, she could do this all day. But chin hangs? Those ruined her. All Lily had to do was hold her body above a bar for as long as she could and just dangle. It had been going swimmingly, and Lily had easily lapped Petunia's measly twenty-second record. It was only after a minute of holding onto the bar that things had gotten… strange. Deep within her belly, a sensation had started spreading, making Lily's eyes snap wide open and a small gasp escape her lips. It had felt good. She'd tried crossing her ankles, trying to find a way to alleviate some of the pressure gathering between her thighs, but it hadn't helped. Her arms were shaking, and she found herself trying to hold on, trying to keep her exhausted body above the bar, no longer for anyone else, no longer to prove a point, but because she wanted this feeling to last. It was building somewhere, somewhere amazing, and she didn't know how she knew, but she could just tell that she wanted it to break and take her along for the ride. She'd needed this.

Lily had had her first orgasm in front of all her peers, and no one was any bit the wiser.

Of course, she (or any of her subsequent sexual partners) had never figured out how to make herself come in any other manner since, so coming to hang off this tree branch on the edge of the lake had become part of her morning routine. Some people masturbated in the comfort of their own beds — Lily got off by exercising in public. (Although the public aspect was hardly a choice — where else could she do it?) Whatever works. Of course, chasing this feeling had become harder and harder the fitter her body became. It was a constant point of contention.

"Ugh, Remy, you don't know how lucky you are to have a cock," Lily whisper-complained as he sat down next to her in Charms. Her happy feelings had been so hard to achieve this morning; she'd barely had time to shower afterwards before rushing off to their first class. "I thought my arms were going to give out before I got there today." Despite telling her he really didn't need to know about this sort of stuff, Remus was well versed in all her orgasmic problems.

Too bad it wasn't actually Remus who'd sat next to her. "Got where?"

Lily nearly jumped out of her skin when she realized it was in fact Potter who she'd been speaking to. "What the fuck?" she hissed. "What are you doing here?" She frantically looked around the room, trying to locate Remus.

"No, no. Let's go back to this arms thing. What does it have to do with my cock?" He looked so amused. It was infuriating.

Lily was too completely thrown to be embarrassed now (but she'd have plenty of time for that later — years of being unable to fall asleep and pondering this exact moment while staring up at her canopy, perhaps). "Where's Remus?"

"If I tell you, will you answer any of my questions?" Potter tilted his head, challenging her.

"No," she snapped back, reaching into her bag for her bottle of ink and slamming it onto her desk.

"Well, that hardly gives me any impetus to answer you, now does it?"

She bit her lip as they continued their stare off, both not wanting to be the one to break. She was peripherally aware that Flitwick had started his lesson, but this somehow felt bigger than that. Her gaze dropped for a second when she noticed his lips curling into the smallest, most devious of smiles — as though he'd won something.

"Fine," he hushed; eyes darting between hers. Have we been this close the whole time? Why does he smell so good? "He collapsed, near class, so I brought him to the hospital wing."

Lily's rage morphed into concern. "Is he okay?" Her brows furrowed as her nostrils flared. It seemed as though that anger never really went all too far though. "What did you do?"

"I just told you: brought him to Poppy."

"So you're saying you had nothing to do with him collapsing?" she threw out accusatorially.

Potter scoffed. "No, Evans. Considering I'm not the one who bit him."

Lily could feel the color draining from her face. "What did you just say?"

Potter casually rested his arm on the back of her chair, and Lily flinched as he leaned into her ear, her eyes falling to his lap with his proximity to her body. She could be as strong as she wanted under normal circumstances — unfortunately, Potter didn't seem content playing by normal rules. She felt his slow, low voice as it hit every part of her body when he whispered, "I said, I don't bite."

Lily closed her eyes as she took in a shaky breath, desperately trying to compartmentalize. She could focus on Potter's wicked attempts at seduction later — she had a best friend's secret to worry about. "What do you know?" she murmured.

She felt Potter lean back out of her space just a little bit, so she regained her breath — just a little bit. "I know tomorrow night's a full moon, so he's probably feeling like shite today."

Lily looked at him almost pleadingly. He knows. He knows both of Remus' biggest secrets and could completely ruin his life. What could she do? How could she stop him?

Potter's brows twitched. "What? Was it supposed to be some big secret?" He chuckled, throwing a glance to the front of the class and speaking from the corner of his mouth, "He gets sick every month. Either he's a werewolf, or he has a uterus."

Lily swallowed thickly, panic making all her muscles feel frozen and heavy. "Who else knows?"

He shrugged, one arm still behind her, acting like someone's life didn't hang in the balance of this conversation. If Lily could have moved, she'd want to throttle him. "You know, just me… Padfoot." He flicked his quill between his fingers, spinning it around and around gracefully. "Oh, and I might have told the Dark Lord."

Lily's heart skipped a beat. Everyone knew what Potter was, and who he worked for, but had she ever heard him mention Voldemort directly before? No, I haven't. Lily had never pictured this moment, but if she had, it wouldn't have been like this. She would have imagined Potter referring to Voldemort with reverence and admiration, not like he was some dude he knew, some equal, as if he were no one more consequential than a roommate. It was the strangest thing.

It was also so bizarre to hear that James Potter associated with these folks from his own mouth. As if the rumors and skull tattoo weren't enough proof, Potter had just come out and admitted it like it was nothing. As though his allegiances weren't the stuff of nightmares and he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Why are you focusing on that? The git told Voldemort about Remus' condition! Voldemort!

"What do you want from him?" Lily's throat felt parched.

Potter looked at her confused. "From him?" His phrasing seemed oddly specific. "Why would I want anything?" Potter pondered this. "I suppose we want the same thing we want from everyone else, but nothing special."

Lily's eyes couldn't stop straying to his long fingers, the way they manipulated the feather perplexingly mesmerizing. "And what's that?" She was almost too scared to know.

His face cracked into a big smile that would have looked oh-so-charming on anyone else. "World domination, love."

Lily growled, turning to the board. This wasn't some bloody joke. She was so fucking mad and petrified for Remus, she could feel her hands start to shake.

He must have noticed. "Hey, relax. Our side doesn't care, you know? We treat werewolves the same as everyone else. It's your side that's fucked."

She swiveled her head to him in disbelief. Was he serious? He couldn't possibly be implying that Remus would be better off in a world where Voldemort ruled. Sure, their current way of life had Remus being forced into secrecy unless he wanted to be a pariah for all eternity, but Voldemort treated everyone like vermin. Not treating werewolves differently, when no one had rights anyway, was not the great example of prosperity that Potter thought it to be.

"I'm serious. He wouldn't have a problem finding a job after school if we had our way," Potter continued.

"My best friend has no interest working as a guard in Azkaban, thank you," Lily snarled.

"Cute you think we'd keep Azkaban. That place is barbaric," he snapped back.

Lily stared at Potter transfixed. Does he actually think…? It was such a ludicrous realization, but one she was having none-the-less. Does he actually think he's the good guy?! Of course, no one thought of themselves as the bad guy — this wasn't some movie with a villain so comically evil that they had no redeeming qualities… and yet, that's how Lily viewed Voldemort. Here was a man who wanted to wipe out, or enslave, over half of the world's population just because he deemed them and their lack of magic to be beneath him. Clearly the man was a lost cause, but Potter…? Did he think he was doing good? Looking at both sides of the fight, could he actually say that he was righteous and true? The idea seemed so laughable to Lily. She'd always assumed, perhaps naively so, that deep down, even he knew what he was doing was wrong. How can he not?

Lily tried clearing her thoughts, shaking her head as she made to get to her feet. "I should go check on him—"

"Don't," Potter said grabbing her wrist.

"Don't touch me—"

He ignored her rage, but let her yank her arm back. "Don't be a cockblock. Padfoot's with him now, he's fine." Lily hadn't even noticed Black wasn't in his usual spot, perhaps because Potter wasn't there with him. "Lupin knows Padfoot is bi, yeah? He might as well shoot his shot. Pretty sure Pads would be down."

"He would never," Lily defended her friend's honor ardently. "He has standards."

Potter snorted. "Ah yes, I nearly forgot. What's the point of all that Gryffindor courage if you can never do anything because of your misplaced nobility?"

Lily was fuming. "Ah yes," she mocked him. "How dare we live our lives with a set of principles?"

Potter leaned back into her, and Lily could see a dangerous glint flash behind his eyes. It reminded her of just who she was goading, but oddly, she wasn't afraid. If anything, seeing him get even the slightest bit ruffled only egged her on further to continue going toe-to-toe with him. "I have principles, Evans." They never used to get in each other's faces like this; they'd never quite gotten this deep under each other's skin before. Lily made a mental note to ponder what exactly had changed, but his next words quickly made her little quest all but forgotten. "But maybe, unlike you, I'm not too scared to stand by them."

Lily felt as though she'd been punched in the gut. The memory of Dumbledore's disappointed face when she'd told him she couldn't complete her mission for the Order passed through the forefront of her mind like the mark of shame that it was. In a sick, terrible way, Potter was right. What good was all of her conviction and self-righteousness if she couldn't even fight for it? She couldn't even try to do the one thing her side had asked of her.

Of course Potter had no idea how on the nose his assessment had been, and she had no plans of letting him know. "Shut the fuck up, Potter."

Flitwick cleared his throat at the front of the class, alerting Lily to the fact that perhaps that last part had been a little too loud. Her current class ranking was probably the only thing standing between her and receiving detention.

Her skin bristled at the thought of letting the tiny wizard down. She pointedly ignored all of Potter's further attempts at talking to her.

Of course, that didn't stop him. "So..." he taunted softly near the end of class, "how are your nonverbal spells coming along?"

Lily kept scratching away at her notes, only half able to concentrate for some unidentifiable reason.

"Practicing already, love?"

Her hand was writing down the pronunciation of a spell, but her mind was telling her body to stop liking it when he called her that so much. He doesn't mean it affectionately. It's probably just what he calls all his girls so he doesn't have to keep our names straight. Lily yanked on a lock of her hair, trying to suppress the shiver traveling down her spine at the thought of being his girl. This wasn't healthy. This wasn't natural. Sure, fine, he was fit, she could admit that on a purely visual basis, but so what? She had eyes. He was hot. She found plenty of people attractive. That didn't mean she had to admit it out loud. That didn't mean she had to do anything about it. That didn't change the fact that he was a monster, or that she hated him.

His quill innocently skimmed her forearm, nearly making her tremble and blush. Lily forced herself not to react, not to let him win another one of his stupid games, pretending like the gentle tickle did absolutely nothing to her. She tried not to show how she was already picturing him trailing that damn feather all over her body. Her arm rippled as she clenched her fist tighter around her own quill.

She had to get out of this class.

"You know…" His honeyed voice was right in her ear again, laced with smug satisfaction. How was no one seeing this? How was he getting away with this? What in the hell was she supposed to do short of punching him in the face? She knew he was toying with her, she knew that. So why was it still working? Why was it that the more that he played, the more Lily was game? She wanted to rip her hair out and scream. How does he do this? His rise to power had never made more sense to her; there was just something intoxicatingly dazzling about him. "For someone who can't do nonverbal magic, you express yourself quite loudly nonverbally." His left hand dropped below their desk, still holding his quill. Ever-so-slowly, he dragged it up her thigh, her skirt having ridden up when she'd thrown one leg over the other haphazardly and started jittering it to release some of the tension he'd been building within her for the past hour. Lily felt her skin come alive in all the places he was touching her by proxy. "Your blush, your quickening pulse," he whispered, taking a little pause to give her profile a devilish grin as his feather reached her hemline. "The way you cross your legs and squeeze them shut, just for me."

Lily was so lucky the bell swallowed her gasp and released her from her tantalizing torture. She didn't think she'd ever packed her bag up so fast in her life.

Potter was chuckling, the arse. "So when are we meeting?"

Lily jumped to her feet, bounding for the door. "We're not. Tutoring is over." She didn't even bother throwing her curt words over her shoulder.

Not that it mattered. Potter was already by her side the next instant. "Right, because we worked so very hard on that last time," he snarked, rolling his eyes. "I meant for planning the dance. We're running out of time."

Fuck. How could she have forgotten? The school function had completely slipped her mind.

Potter stopped walking in the hall, blocking her path, and Lily nearly ran right into him. "Tonight?"

She looked up at him confused. "I thought you were busy tonight?"

He smirked. "It opened up. See you in our office." And with that, he was gone.

Lily thought she knew exactly how their meeting that night would go. She figured she could guess the kind of insults he'd mix in with the cheeky barbs he'd throw her way while his eyes would linger on certain parts of her body. That's where this all had been heading to, wasn't it? Some sort of alpha display of dominance meant to demonstrate that while he found her fuckable, she still meant absolutely nothing to him in the grand scheme of things? She dragged her feet, making her way to the office.

But Potter ended up being nothing like that tonight. He was back to barely looking up from his papers to her, actually working hard and doling out roles and assignments that they'd give to their prefects so this damn dance would go off without a hitch.

"I know that most of their music sucks, but they're really popular right now, and they have a few bangers, so… I think it's the path of least resistance, really, to just book them."

"Yeah. I guess. But then you gotta give me the bar for upperclassmen. Connelly already approved it and said he'd chaperone the area."

"Yeah, because he's an alcoholic!"

"Doesn't matter, he's a professor, his approval counts."

He was being decently responsible. Lily didn't get it. When he was like this, he was almost likable. Lily could imagine an alternative universe where they could get along and be partners. It was a weird reality that she craved — if only a little bit. She chalked it up to solely wanting less stress in her life — and if Potter wasn't as big of a dick as he usually was, she wouldn't have half of her problems. (Or a pesky abandoned Order assignment weighing on her conscience.)

She almost missed it when Potter started packing up. "Well, that seems like all for tonight."

"Right, right," she agreed, breaking out of her rumination and bobbing her head.

He cocked a brow at her, noticing her state. "Unless there was something else?"

Don't do it. It's not worth it, she tried persuading herself, but she couldn't help it, her curiosity was nearly boiling over, and something in the way he'd acted tonight had almost humanized him, or at the very least, disarmed her. He had reminded her that under all the bravado, there was still a 17 year old boy who was merely trying to plan a silly school dance, just like her, so that he could go to bed.

But it's late… Lily glanced at the clock over his shoulder; it was nearly eleven. Her curiosity could wait. "Nothing. Goodnig—"

"What were you going to ask?" he cut her off softly.

How does he do that? she wondered for the thousandth time. He missed nothing. Lily figured she really didn't have anything to lose. Fuck it. She turned in her chair to face him and he mirrored her. "Don't you hate me?" It was a question that had burned on her tongue for years now — because he should. She was a Muggle-born and, if he stood by what he preached, a stain on his perfect Magical society. His people wanted her gone; so why all the ogles? She understood the concept of hate sex, not that I have any interest in it myself whatsoever, and she understood that you didn't have to respect someone in order to want to fuck their brains out — most of her own conquests had made that abundantly clear in the way they'd treated her after the fact. But over the past few hours, he'd been… civil to her. There hadn't been any malice in his words at all; he'd treated her kindly, almost like a friend. So what gives?

"No," he answered simply. "Do you hate me?"

The question startled her. Her gut reaction was a screaming, 'Yes! Of course I do! You stand for everything I despise!' but it was hard to vocalize this when looking into his hauntingly beautiful eyes. It was actually quite difficult to stare into someone's very soul and tell them that you hated them. But more than that, she wasn't even sure if she really did hate him anymore, like really, truly hated him, or if it was only what he stood for. It was a deeply unsettling realization.

"I don't understand you," she blurted out honestly.

Something flipped in his face, shattering their bubble. The insufferable prat was back, flashing her his teeth. "Oh, Evans…" He simpered as he leaned in and yanked her seat closer to his, trapping her knees between his own. "You don't understand yourself." Lily froze, feeling her breathing coming out in heavy pants. He'd hit a nerve. It isn't true, don't let him get to you, don't let him get to you. His smile grew as he studied her face. "It's okay though."

No, it isn't. Before he could say or do anything else, Lily slapped him clean across the face, jumping to her feet.

Potter laughed, touching his reddening cheek. "Nice. Really great way to confront your problems there."

"You're the problem, Potter," she stammered out. "Stay away from me." She straightened her neck and tried to look her absolute most imposing. It was the stance that worked on terrifying the crap out of all underclassmen and her bullies back at the orphanage.

Course, Potter wasn't like them. He slowly stood up and smirked down at her, dwarfing her in height. Lily ignored the pulse that shot through her. "Or what?" he asked.

Lily didn't know. And that scared the shit out of her.

With one quick glance to her lips, he stalked out of the room, and Lily could finally breathe again.

"Remy!" Lily cheered, so happy for the distraction of a familiar face when she returned to the common room, even if he was half-asleep in front of the fire. She'd stayed in the Head office far longer than she'd care to admit, pondering what Potter had said to her. Because she did know herself, didn't she? Sure, some parts of herself remained a mystery, but that was perfectly normal, wasn't it? She was fairly certain most people sometimes did things they couldn't even understand themselves, or wanted things that they knew — logically — they really shouldn't. Wasn't that just called being human?

"There you are," Remus said, smiling at her lazily. "The girls said you weren't in your room yet. I was hoping to still catch you."

"Well, here I am," Lily sang, taking her seat. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible. Were you able to make another batch of Wolfie Potion for tomorrow?"

"Of course," Lily reassured him. Trying to keep his wits about him as he underwent the most painful transformation, month after month, should always be the least of Remus' worries as far as Lily was concerned. She was happy she could at the very least give him that. "What happened?"

"Oh, it was so embarrassing. You know how hard the days around full moon are. I think I fainted. Came to with Potter looking at me in the hospital wing. Apparently he levitated me over."

Lily wrung her hands together. "He, um—" she tried, wincing. "He—"

"Yeah, he knows. He alluded to it," Remus started blushing, "when he was summoning Sirius to come stay with me until I felt better."

Lily's eyebrows raised. "Oh?"

"Yep." Clearly that was all he wished to say on that topic.

"Do you think they'll tell anyone else?"

Remus shifted. "Is it naive of me to say no? I mean, they could have outed my sexuality too, but they never did."

It was true. Lily still didn't know what to think of it.

"So, where were you just now?" Remus asked.

"With Potter, actually. We finalized all the boring details for next week's dance. You know, decor, duration, music choice, etc," Lily rambled.

"Hm," Remus remarked conspiringly. "How'd that go?"

Lily grimaced. "It was going rather okay. He's been so hot and cold lately, but he was just… I dunno. Normal?" She shrugged. "Until I slapped him."

A reluctant smile blossomed on Remus' face. "You slapped him?"

Lily hid behind one of her hands. "Maybe? Unsure."

"Why?"

"I don't know. He didn't even really do anything?"

"Did you want him to?"

What? Where did that question come from? Lily startled, looking over to him."What? No."

"So why did you slap him?"

"I told you, I don't know—"

"Oh, just admit it already, Lil," Remus sighed exasperatedly. The subject of Potter was a dangerous one to broach tonight of all nights. Remus' patience for bullshit was always pitifully thin around full moons.

"Admit what?" Lily replied stubbornly.

Remus gave her a glare while working out a kink in his shoulder. "He wasn't giving you the kind of attention you like from him, contentious as it normally is, and you wanted it back. So you slapped him."

Lily's jaw dropped wide open. "No! That's not it at all! I don't want Potter antagonizing me—" Remus made a face. "I don't."

"So, why'd you slap him then?" Remus repeated.

Lily was getting more than a little peeved. "I don't know! The guy just pisses me off! He's a Death Eater, and—"

"Have you ever slapped Sirius? Snape? Macnair? Nott? Mulc—?"

"No," Lily begrudgingly conceded.

Remus' face softened. "Look. You know I can't judge. You know that. But you've got to admit that you're at least attracted to him already." Lily made to retort so he plowed on. "I know, I know, you hate him, and you don't want to do anything with him, but if you're this much in denial, I really think you'll be far more likely to slip up."

Lily straightened up, suddenly taking his concern very seriously. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno… but don't you think you'll be more in charge if you can at least admit what you're dealing with?"

He raised a fair point. But, honestly, Lily didn't need it. She was fine. She had everything under control. Potter would have to try a lot harder to truly rattle her. Sure, he was fucking with her a little here and there, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle in the long run. It wasn't like he could distract her from her life goals and plans and from remembering who she was and what she stood for. She was Lily Evans — she had everything figured out and she didn't need anyone. She was going to graduate from Hogwarts, top of her class, join the healing program at St Mungo's, and live a long, happy, and fulfilled life in some cozy home, with a cat, prosperous and secure. "I'm fine, Remus. He's fit, but I'm not into him. He can go straight to hell."

Remus sighed, getting up to retreat to the boys' staircase. "Okay, Lil. Okay. Just don't say no to Dumbledore's assignment because you're scared you have a crush on Potter, yeah?"

He left, leaving Lily fuming at the accusation. He's mental. And wrong. Definitely wrong.

Next Chapter: The Acknowledgement