Birthday shoutout to TurtlesTale!

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

Song: Love Is A Bitch by Two Feet

The Confusion

Breakfast was a bleak affair as Lily recounted what had happened in detention with Potter to Remus. She'd purposely chosen a seat with her back to Potter, just in case he actually could read lips. She was starting to have a sneaking suspicion that there was something — perhaps another device or invention — that was helping him eavesdrop on her conversations. He just seemed to know a little bit too much.

"And then he ran off. Like a bitch." Lily was obviously still very bitter.

Remus snorted, having been caught drinking pumpkin juice during the conclusion of her tale. "Okay, well tell me how you really feel."

"I'm mad!" Lily answered, whether the question was rhetorical or not. She had to admit, she was putting on a bit more of a show for Remus, really jazzing up the story dramatically to try to keep his mind off of what he had to do tonight. She knew he was scared shitless about meeting up with a bunch of strange werewolves to try to persuade them to join the Order. "Who does that? Who riles someone up, even though they never even asked to get riled up in the first place, mind you, only to ditch just as it's getting good?"

"First of all: you need to get laid, you're getting a little grouchy." Remus put up his hands as Lily sent him a death-glare. "I didn't say by him, anyone will do." He shrugged. "Or, I don't know, go work out some more." Lily chuckled, yeah, that would probably be more beneficial. "Second of all: seems like it runs in his friend group."

Lily leaned in, deadly curious. "What? What do you mean?"

Remus let out a big sigh. "Sirius basically did the same thing to me 5th year."

Lily's jaw dropped; she couldn't believe he was finally going to tell her the story he'd been holding so close to the vest this whole time. "Yeah?" she eagerly pushed.

"Well, you know how I told you he kissed me?"

How could I ever forget? "Yeah…"

"Well, he sort of tossed the Quaffle in my court too. He told me that he'd always had a crush on me, and that whenever I was out and ready, he'd love to date me."

"Remy, what?!" Lily couldn't believe it. "That was two years ago?! Why didn't you—"

"Lil—"

"You like him—" she whisper-yelled.

"Yeah, but that doesn't change anything. He's still a Death Eater," he scoffed. "I'm not hooking up with a Death—" His words died on his tongue and he looked at Lily awkwardly, realizing that she'd literally done just that. "Sorry. I didn't mean—"

"No, you're right. It's stupid," Lily tried consoling him. He is right. What I did was moronic.

Remus winced. "I just meant— it's different for you. You're literally on a mission."

Lily nodded, oddly embarrassed. "Yup."

"I'm sorry."

"Stop, you didn't say anything wrong. I'm still blown away that Black asked you out and you said no."

"I know…" he whined, looking pained.

Lily thumped him on the back. "Well, good for you. You're stronger than I am."

Remus gave her a shy smile. "Or maybe I'm just that scared to come out."

Lily snorted. "Doubtful. Black's hot."

He sighed dreamily. "Yeah."

Look at us. We're a mess.

"I guess they both enjoy being chased, huh?" Remus supplied.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Or just playing stupid games with other people's hearts."

The rest of the day passed by quickly, with Lily avoiding Potter while distracting Remus, right up until she had to wish him good luck by the Entrance Hall. He was going to sneak out via the Whomping Willow and Apparate to location from Hogsmeade.

"You remember your plan? You remember your defensive spells?"

Remus rolled his eyes at her mothering tone. "Yes, Lil, I'll be fine. Don't wait up for me."

It was a laughable request — they both knew she would. "Okay. See you in the common room." She shot him a wink as he walked off.

And so she waited.

And waited.

And waited.

When the clock struck 2 am, and all the logs in the fireplace had died out, she was truly worried. She'd already tried going to Dumbledore's office an hour earlier, but no one had been there to answer his door. What the fuck was going on?!

Lily had resumed her pacing, sure she was going to wear a hole in the carpet, when a beautiful glimmering stag Patronus burst through the Fat Lady's portrait and Potter's voice rang out: "Evans, it's Remus. He's hurt, come quick, we're outside."

Hurt? Outside fucking where?! Lily snatched her wand from out of her messy bun and sprinted out of Gryffindor, not even processing the route she was taking in her pure panic. Why is Potter with him? How hurt are we talking about? What the fuck happened? Lily screamed loud enough to wake half the castle when her foot got stuck in one of the trick steps, but she yanked it free from straight adrenaline and worry seconds later and flew the rest of the way down, bursting through the doors.

There they were, a few meters out — Potter supporting a barely conscious Remus whose arm was hanging haphazardly over his shoulders.

"Remus!" Lily called out, running to them and immediately trying to catch her best friend's eye. It looked as though he had just lost consciousness. She turned to Potter. "What the fuck happened?!"

"Not here," Potter huffed, dragging Remus along, struggling now that he'd become dead weight. "Let's get him to a classroom."

"Okay, follow me," Lily agreed, leading the way to the nearest room she knew off. Potter readjusted Remus' whole body across his shoulders — no easy feat considering he was nearly his height. Luckily, Remus had always skewed on the lanky side. Potter deposited him onto the desks Lily had just pushed together. "Where's he hurt?"

"I'm not sure," Potter said, helping Lily remove his shirt so she could assess the damage. "But most of the blood seemed to be on his back."

Lily gasped as they rolled him over and she saw the giant claw marks that marred his skin. Her wand hand shook and she tried to calm her nerves so she could heal him — he needed her. "I don't understand, it's not even full moon."

"I don't think they need that to hurt people," Potter spoke grimly.

Lily cleared her mind, setting to work sewing his skin back together. Then, she summoned a bottle of Dittany that she'd seen only yesterday in Slughorn's supply closet. Potter raised a brow at her when the expensive solution landed in her awaiting hand. He seemed to know exactly where she was stealing it from. "Add it to my tab," she muttered dryly as she uncorked the vial and spread droplets all over Remus' freshly grown skin.

Remus hadn't woken up yet, but Lily figured that was for the best. His breathing had returned to a regular rhythm, and he needed rest in order to heal. Waking him up now would just cause him undue pain.

"That was brilliant," Potter told her as she sanitized the area and her hands, looking at her admiringly.

"It was basic healing stuff, considering he's already a werewolf. So, not really that impressive," she brushed off.

"Just accept the compliment, Evans."

She looked up to him, ready for another fight, but stopped when she saw the blood soaking his grey jumper. The blood of her best friend. He saved his life. "What happened?" she asked softly.

Potter shifted, looking stuck between a rock and a hard place. He sat down on the corner of a desk and ran a hand through his hair. "His mission went south."

Lily scoffed. "Yeah. I gathered that much."

Potter looked her dead in the eye. "The werewolves he was trying to bring to your side had already pledged their loyalty to the Dark Lord. So when he arrived, he basically stood no chance." Lily took a shaky breath bringing her hand over her mouth. He must have been so scared. "They brought him to us, but—" Potter looked away for the first time, and Lily didn't understand why, considering he was about to admit to doing the best thing he'd ever done in her eyes, "—I vouched for him."

Lily felt the tears as they welled up. She couldn't believe how close she'd been to losing her best friend tonight. "You what?" she breathed.

Potter's eyes snapped back to hers. "I convinced the Dark Lord it would send a better message to Dumbledore to bring him back alive. So he could tell your side that we're inevitable." Oh. Right. Had she really just assumed he'd done something altruistic out of the goodness of his own heart? What an idiot you are, Lils.

Lily's head hurt. She stuck her wand back into her bun so she could rub her aching eyelids. Why couldn't she just fancy a good guy? A boring guy? A guy who didn't say shit like that? So had he brought back Remus to save him, because he had even an ounce of humanity, or because it would hurt Dumbledore more? Lily really didn't want to think about her headmaster right now though — because doing so was making her blood boil. How could he have sent Remus into that situation? How did he not know the werewolves were already spoken for? Were his little foot soldiers all just expendable to him?

"Was I wrong?" Potter questioned.

Lily really didn't feel like arguing with him right now. "No, Potter. You weren't wrong."

He immediately noticed her lack of fight. "Hey, you okay?"

Lily held up her hands defensively as he got off the desk and reached for her. "No, Potter, I'm not okay. My best friend was nearly ripped apart tonight."

He backed off. "I know. That's why I brought him home to you."

Lily sighed, looking to the ceiling. "You don't get it. This is your fault."

"What?" Potter actually sounded taken aback.

"Without people like you, Voldemort would have no power. You've made it okay for the people who follow him to do whatever they want," she pointed to Remus' angry, pink scars, "to do this!"

"Evans, I—"

Lily buried her face in her hands, exhausted and at her breaking point. "No, no, please, just stop." She took a deep breath in though her nose. She thought she sensed his hand, lingering near her arm once more, as if deciding whether to listen to her wishes or not. "Thank you for bringing him to me, but I got it from here." The feeling of his proximity evaporated.

She heard Potter scoff, the thump of his shoes telling her he was walking away. "You're welcome," he sassed from the door before slipping out.

Lily sunk onto the desk next to Remus as soon as she was alone, finally allowed to succumb to her weakness. "Fuck, Remy," she sobbed, as she pushed some of his sandy hair back off of his forehead. "I'm so sorry this happened to you."

She allowed herself a minute to lose it before regaining composure. Then, she had to get her shit together to levitate him to the hospital wing so she could rouse Madam Pomfrey and have her take over the process of healing him.

Lily didn't leave Remus' side that night, insisting on sleeping in the cot next to him.

Friday was awkward. Not only was Remus on strict orders of bedrest in the infirmary, but Lily could tell that Potter was pissed at her. He was throwing a juvenile little hissy fit that his grand gesture of bringing home a guy that his side had nearly maimed to death wasn't being rewarded. Well, boo-fucking-hoo for you, Potter.

Of course, it didn't help that they had to complete a Potions lab as partners. Lily really thought it was a rather horrible time to have to work together to brew a Draught of Peace. She wasn't feeling anywhere near peaceful today. She was more in a 'burn shit to the ground' kind of mood.

Her day only got worse at lunch when one of her prefects came up to her to talk about the finishing details of tonight's dance. The dance. The one that is tonight. Fuck. In all the drama and panic of her week, somehow she'd completely forgotten.

It wasn't even like she could skip it, no matter how exhausted she felt or how much she wanted to; she was Head Girl. She was not only practically required to attend, but she was also supposed to be at least somewhat in charge of it.

During her free period, she made the choice to take a long, blissful nap instead of going to Hogsmeade to buy a last minute dress. A decision that felt oh-so good in the moment, but had her panicking an hour before she was supposed to be downstairs to help the band set up, still standing in her underwear, with nothing to put on. She guessed she could also have gone and bought a dress right after dinner, but at least the decision to go visit Remus in the hospital wing to sneak him some eclairs had been less selfish than sleeping. You never learn, do you?

"You don't have anything? Even something old you wore last year?" Lily pleaded with one of the nicer girls in her dorm.

"Sorry, Lily. I don't have anything in your size," the tiny girl answered, making her way to the bathroom to do her hair.

I'm screwed. So royally screwed.

Just as Lily had resigned herself to the fact that she was going to have to wear her super simple yellow summer dress to this dance that she'd — for some asinine reason — agreed to label as formal, a house-elf Apparated near her bed, making her neighbor scream. "What the fuck!"

"Sorry, sorry," Lily apologized, greeting the frightened creature. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Yes, Miss," he replied, bowing all the way down to the carpet. "I've come to give you a gift."

Lily flinched back. "A gift? Are you sure it's for me?"

"Yes. Are you not Miss Evans?"

Lily hesitantly accepted the garment bag the elf was bestowing upon her. He disappeared before she'd even gotten a chance to unzip it. Inside was a shimmering gown that looked as though it was made of liquid mercury. "Whoa," Lily exclaimed, her fingertips reaching for the fabric of their own accord. It was beautiful. Although there was no note, she had a strong hunch she knew who it was from. Who else has an unlimited bank account and a morbid obsession with me?

Desperate, and unwilling to think about it too much, Lily hastily slipped on the dress, noticing how it fit the contours of her body perfectly, and ran to the bathroom to do her makeup.

"Wait, you asked me if I had a dress, when you had the perfect one just lying around?" a girl huffed angrily. "Okay then."

"I didn't—"

"Wow, Lily, it's gorgeous!" Marlene, her nice roommate, squealed. "You look like a movie star! Here," she motioned for Lily to step in front of her. "Let me do your hair." Lily knew she'd always liked her the best.

Lily sent a Patronus to Remus, telling him how much she wished he could still have been her date tonight, as she carefully descended the stairs in her heels. She didn't want to dwell on the fact that her own Patronus so closely resembled Potter's. That was weird. Tonight would not be weird. Tonight, she'd have fun. Tonight she'd let her hair loose (well, not really, because Marlene just so nicely swooped it into an elegant updo). Tonight, she would not let Potter get in her head.

"You're late."

Fuck: about that. Lily bit her tongue, already struggling to stick to her carefree plan. "Sorry, I had nothing to wear."

Potter didn't bite, rushing past her to go speak to the bartenders. She'd mentioned her outfit so early in the night to see if he'd acknowledge that it had in fact been him that had sent her the dress in the first place. But he'd basically ignored her, and now Lily was wondering if it had actually been him at all. The more Lily thought about it — while bringing the diva drummer his requested personal bottle of Firewhiskey — why would Potter send her a dress? He was mad at her, and even if he wasn't, it's not like he liked her. Why would he help her out in her hour of need? It was more likely that she had a secret admirer. Lily knew she cleaned up nicely, so it wouldn't be that far of a stretch. Perhaps the bloke was too scared to ask her out yet, but still wanted to do something nice for her. Lily wasn't naive to the fact that Amos had been tormented pretty extensively about dating a 'Mudblood' back when they'd been together — and that was two years ago. Things had only gotten worse since then. She couldn't really fault a guy for having some reservations about making his crush on her public, even if it was pretty disheartening.

Why did she already feel like she needed a drink? Lily didn't say no when the drummer asked her to do a shot with him a few minutes later.

Soon, it felt like all of the upperclassmen showed up, more than ready for a night of fun and frivolity, making a huge queue at the bar that didn't look like it was going to dissipate any time soon. Lily had to chuckle as she saw her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Connelly, animatedly speaking to one of the bartenders who already looked thoroughly flustered at having to entertain him while also trying to do her job. Lily related to that woman a little too much.

"It's time."

Potter's deep voice behind her interrupted her musings. "For what?" she sighed, spinning to him.

The corner of his mouth twitched as he held out his hand. It was actually kind of nice to be closer to eye level with him for once. She stopped her gaze from traveling down his body, because honestly, he really didn't deserve the admiration that she was sure she'd project shortly afterwards. He always looked good; she didn't need to look to confirm it. "For the Heads dance that kicks this whole thing off."

Hold up. "What? That's not a thing."

Potter didn't move. He's serious. "It is this year."

"I don't remember discussing this," she said adamantly, suddenly aware that everyone was already looking at them, waiting.

"Probably because you had already spaced out that meeting. But trust me, we talked about it."

"I don't trust you for shit," she bit back.

Potter rolled his eyes and finally just grabbed her hand, pulling her to the center of the room. The only reason Lily didn't fight him on it was because she didn't want to make a public scene. "I've noticed."

He turned to face her, holding a hand up next to his head as the other held onto her waist. Oh fuck, she had no idea what she was doing. "Potter—"

"Come closer, Evans, we aren't in 3rd year," Potter ordered.

Lily grit her teeth as she stepped into him, placing one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. "I don't know how to dance," she admitted under her breath.

He smirked, looking over her shoulder as if bored. Lily tried not being offended, but it was quite hard not to be. Hadn't they just been making out all over the place this week? Hadn't he just felt her up? Had he really already lost interest this quickly? "I'll lead."

And he did. As the band played a smooth ballad, Potter whisked her around the space as though it was second nature to him. It probably was, considering his fancy, rich boy upbringing. Lily didn't want to look at him if he wasn't even giving her the time of day either, but she wasn't sure if seeing all her peers watching them whilst whispering amongst themselves behind their hands was such a good idea instead. "Why is everyone gossiping?" she mumbled.

Potter let out a little chuckle, his lips sliding into a lopsided smirk. Why'd he look so yummy when he was being cocky? It was straight-up annoying. "Maybe because we're donning Slytherin pride?"

Lily accidentally stepped on his shoe as she faltered, not understanding his meaning, but he carried on like nothing had happened. "What do you mean?"

Potter finally looked at her, eyes traveling down to her cleavage as he leaned into her ear. "Nice dress, Evans."

The dress was from him! But worse than that… he was right. With his dark green fitted dress robes, and her silver gown, they definitely looked like they were making some sort of snakey statement. Shit. How had she not picked up on that? The dress had been so mesmerizing that she'd completely overlooked the fact that it was in one of his colors. Who thinks of Slytherin as silver anyway? They go so hard with the green!

She was mortified. "I can't believe you—"

"Sent you a gown? You're welcome."

He was doing everything right, while somehow still doing it all wrong. "You knew what you were doing, Potter. You knew what this would look like!" she hissed. What was this anyway, some sort of alpha display of him marking his territory? Trying to tell the school that she was spoken for?

He never broke stride. "I just sent you a dress, love. You're the one who chose to wear it. Besides," he leaned the side of his face against hers as he pulled their raised hands onto his chest, forming some sort of sick, twisted version of a lovey-dovey tableau, "it suits you."

Lily very deliberately held onto her anger with an iron fist, refusing to succumb to the butterflies he was trying to release in her stomach. It was hard not to at least physically lean into his embrace though — if only because holding on to each other this tightly seemed to make following his lead that much easier.

"The drummer seems to like you," Potter said. Lily could hear the jealousy seep into his voice just as clearly as she could feel the possessive way his grip on her hip tautened.

He was being ridiculous. "Yeah, probably because he doesn't know what I am," she snapped. She didn't even feel sorry for herself anymore; she knew this was her life now, having been a Muggle-born and a pariah for years. Every reminder that her life was being made unnecessarily harder than her peers' because of prejudice only served to make her angrier.

"I know who you are," Potter replied delicately.

Cute. Yeah, I refer to myself as a 'what,' because that's literally what your side has devalued me to, but you, James Potter —Death Eater extraordinaire — sees me as a 'who.' Soooo noble, so romantic… Lily wanted another shot. "Oh my fucking god, Potter. Give it a rest. I get it. You know me." She wasn't sure if she'd ever sounded so sassy in her life, but she truly couldn't believe that she'd ever fantasized about screwing this bloke.

Potter pulled back, and Lily watched as his jaw clenched while he looked around the room haughtily. It was like he couldn't even look at her right now; he was so pissed off. "Are you drunk?" he sneered.

Lily chuckled. "Not yet." But honestly, that might have become the new plan. Without Remus, she'd already felt so alone, but now? Now that everyone was judging and talking about her? It was infinitely worse. She felt like she was some sort of weird new display at a museum — one of the kinds that was supposed to be looked at, but never interacted with — and she hated it. For just one night, she didn't want to be Lily Evans, the bright witch despite her poor Muggle orphanage upbringing. She didn't want to have a perfect reputation, and perfect grades, and a perfectly fine stick-up-her-ass. (That description had been one of the more decent ones she'd overheard the girls in her dorm say about her when they thought she wasn't there.) She didn't want to be working for the Order, she didn't want that pressure, or scrutiny, she just wanted to be a 17 year old girl, who got to dance with some boys, and drink, and just have a good fucking night.

Was that too much to ask for?

"Your mother would be so proud."

Lily immediately stopped dancing, untangling herself from his hold. "Don't you dare talk about my mother, Potter. Worry about your own."

They were no longer touching, and yet were still completely in each other's faces. "What's that supposed to mean?" The way his lip curled back baring his teeth, and his eyes clouded over, hiding all of the warmth that she hadn't even known he had until it was snuffed out, finally, finally, drove home something terrifying for Lily: Potter was a Death Eater. She felt damn near braindead for feeling this way after so many years of hearing rumors, and knowing that he was one — but this was still somehow striking a different chord. She could actually see it now. It had been so easy to look at him and have doubts, because he was so young, and sometimes when he laughed, he seemed so innocent and carefree, and who with dimples could be evil? (It seemed almost like a crime against humanity.) But this countenance left no doubts. This was the face of a killer. This expression might have been the last one that multiple people had ever seen.

Lily swallowed and took a slow step back, putting some distance between them. What have I done? Potter's gaze dropped to her feet, watching her unsteady retreat. Don't surrender, don't back down. Easier said than done. "I dunno," she continued, sounding braver than she felt, "has she passed any more draconian laws lately?"

His nostrils flared and he spat out a, "Have a fun night, Evans," before turning on his heel and fleeing mid-dance.

Why had that sounded so much like a threat?

Lily walked over to Connelly at the back of the bar — ignoring all the renewed whispers surrounding her now that it had become quite clear that the two Heads had just been fighting — and tried to blend in with the wall.

Connelly seemed oblivious as always. "Having a good time, Miss Evans?"

"Super." She forced a smile.

Lily tried to at least somewhat enjoy the next few hours, but unfortunately, most of her enjoyment seemed to be coming out of a bottle. Every time the band got a break from pumping out live music, the drummer insisted she come have a drink with him behind the stage. She had to admit that he was quite cute in a sort of rogue, rock and roll kind of way. Perhaps Remus was right — maybe she really did just need to get under someone new to help get whatever weirdness was happening with Potter out of her system. And as far as guilt-free hookups went, she couldn't do much better than a guy who probably did this all the time and she'd never have to see again. Who knew? Maybe she needed an older guy, with a little more experience, to coax an orgasm out of her. A girl can dream.

Now if only she could remember his name…

She was just stumbling towards him once more, already reaching for his proffered Firewhiskey, when Potter had to come and ruin all her fun. "That's enough, Evans."

Lily tried to push off the arm she felt encircled around her waist, but it remained solid, reeling her into him. "Sod off, Potter, quit being a cockblock."

"Oh, charming, Evans," he sighed. "Truly."

"Is this guy bothering you?" the drummer asked, Lily thought rather stupidly, because duh, obviously he was. I mean, just look at Potter. Who wouldn't want to punch that damn near perfect, angular, Adonis-like, awful face?

"Yes—"

"Back off," Potter growled at the other man he was currently shielding Lily from. "Find someone your own age."

The drummer scoffed. "Aw. Someone mad his little girlfriend fancies me better?"

Lily laughed, completely missing the point of his jeer in her intoxicated state. "Ha! I'm not his girlfriend!" She was very lucky her hiccups only started after she was done talking.

Potter reached around Lily's body that he was currently supporting against his chest, and rolled up his left sleeve slowly and deliberately in front of her, angling his inner forearm out towards the older guy. Lily watched her never-to-be-one-night-stand's face as he realized just who he was dealing with. He raised his own hands in front of his chest and took a few steps back. "Look man, I don't want no trouble." He looked about ready to piss himself.

"Good," Potter drew out the word measuredly, dangerously. They both watched as whatever-he-was-called fled.

Lily threw her head back, drunk, yet knowing just enough to realize what had just happened: she wasn't getting laid tonight. She swayed, now completely off balance from how far she'd swung her head, but Potter steadied her. "Fuck, Potter. You ruin everything."

"I'm pretty sure I just saved you."

"From what? Having sex? My hero," she deadpanned.

"You're drunk."

"So kind of you to notice. Since when do you care?"

Potter swung her around so he could level her with a critical stare. "What's gotten into you tonight?"

Lily had a little bout of clarity amongst all the swirling thoughts and colors and very loud noises bombarding her brain. It was all just a lot — too much. She knew she shouldn't have gotten this drunk, but she had, she was, and she didn't even feel bad about it. Sometimes, she just didn't want to have to think, and worry, anymore. "Take me home?" she asked faintly, suddenly craving any form of intimacy she could get.

Potter paused, still holding onto her arms, as he regarded her. Lily was embarrassed by how much that small action meant to her. "I'm not shagging you tonight," he declared, before looking around. As far as Lily could tell, they were behind the stage, mostly hidden from view, alone.

"Why not?" Lily whined.

Potter studied her, eyes lingering on hers for what felt like an eternity. "I won't waste my time explaining myself to you."

Well, that's rude as fuck. "Why not?" she repeated.

"Because, I doubt you'll remember this conversation anyway." He was right. Lily couldn't even remember what he said he wouldn't explain. "Come on, let's go." Lily giggled as she felt him pick her up behind the knees and carried her out of the hall. As she slung her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into his neck, she couldn't help but think how nice it felt to be held like this.

Next Chapter: The Surrender

Yeah, I guess in every story I write, James always has to gift Lily a gown ^.^