Ch. 5: Powerful Words

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing that you recognize!

Author's Note: Hello, hello, loves! I'm writing this chapter super-fast so you lot can have an update! XxShadowedDreamsxX n' Crafty Rabbit, you guys rock my mismatching socks! Rabbit, don't worry, you'll have chapter 6 dedicated to you. Don't you feel special? Remember… Nate IS meatloaf…

This one goes out to you, XxShadowedDreamsxX!

…

James could not have agreed more with Remus's statement as the clapping and whooping died down and everyone tucked in. The Feast's pleasant aromas were worthy of kings, James decided as he dug in.

Four courses and a thousand stuffed stomachs later, Dumbledore stood up to speak. The entire Great Hall was silent, James noticed, as soon as Dumbledore's chair scooted backward. McGonagall unnecessarily tapped her cup with her fork, and the sound resonated off the spacious walls.

And then, Dumbledore began to speak in his loud, booming, and yet still somehow calm and gentle voice. James listened intently, blocking out Sirius and Peter whispering beside him. He desperately wanted to live up to the shiny, silver badge he now proudly wore on his chest.

"Well, now that we are all digesting yet another marvelous feast, I beg a few moments of all your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," he started. "Firstly, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that magic is not to be used in the corridors, and that a list of banned objects have been posted in each Common Room. Which, I regret to inform you, includes those lovely fireworks displayed this evening by four of our elder hands."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he looked over his horn-rimmed glasses at James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James's friends beamed proudly, but he could feel his neck prickle with the smallest amount of shame. He just couldn't resist a bit of start-of-term fun…

Dumbledore had continued speaking, so James racked his brain from his thoughts and started listening again. "Quidditch tryouts for all houses will be held on the third weekend of September.

"As some of you may have noticed, a new face has joined our ranks. None other than Professor Alastor Moody, a highly respected auror from the Ministry of Magic, will take up Defense Against the Dark Arts as a teaching position. Good luck, Professor."

Dumbledore waved his arm to his right, where sat a young man. Or at least, that's what James thought he was. He had a mat of seemingly unkempt hair and a somewhat scarred face. James wasn't sure what to think, as he looked the young professor over. It doesn't matter now, thought James, I'll find out soon enough what he's like. I think I have heard of him though….

"And a few of you may have noticed that familiar face is now missing from the staff's table. That face is Professor Treleven, who has decided that it would be best for her to spend time with her family and friends for the time being, something I recommend to every one of you.

"And now, I am afraid that a less enlightening subject has fallen upon us. I will go further than to recommend anything." Dumbledore paused slightly, looking seriously around at them all. When he started to speak again, he said his words slowly, as if trying to emphasize his point a hundred times more than was normal for any other time he spoke. "There are dark times upon us. You all know that there is a Dark Wizard rising amongst the world, who goes by the name of Lord Voldemort."

A few people gasped. James clamped his mouth shut and looked at the floor before him. He couldn't think about it. He just couldn't. He wouldn't…

"Some of us have lost those we know to the fight against this Dark Lord—" James bit his lip hard, but managed to look back up at Dumbledore expressionlessly. "—and know the right thing to do. I must say, however, that some of us are fairly ignorant in the subject. What simply must be said, then, is choose your friends wisely. Know the situations you put yourself in. But most importantly, keep your spirit alive. Live and let live. You shall see."

The whole hall seemed to be contemplating his words. They were silent, but James knew they all looked round at one another as if every one was asking themselves the exact same question.

Who can I trust?

…

Lily let out a very shaky breath. Her eyes had not left Dumbledore for an instant since he had started speaking. She had listened so hard she thought her ears would pop from her sheer determination to find out anything hidden in his words. Lily recounted everything the great Headmaster had uttered slowly.

"Powerful words…" she noted aloud to herself. She glanced down the table at the Marauders. Very powerful words, indeed. Live and let live…

She sighed inwardly and looked over at Alice, who was leaning into Frank for support. She looked pale, scared, as if a sudden feeling of nostalgia had settled over her at Dumbledore's moving words. Lily shook at the expression on Alice's face, and she felt a lump form in her throat.

"Are you alright?" Lily questioned, concerned, as she laid her hand on her friend's shoulder. Alice shuddered.

"Yeah," she replied, her voice shaking heavily. She did not turn to look at Lily, which made her throat tighten even more. "Yeah, just, a little taken, you know? I just… never saw it before. Live and let live… That man… is brilliant."

Alice turned to her finally and smiled. Lily returned it, though not fully convinced that her very best friend was fine. However, deciding it was best to go against her judgment, she looked back up at Dumbledore, who was staring around at them all with a concentrated look. There was no familiar, famous twinkle in his eyes. Instead, it was earnest, engaged, and almost piercing. Lily didn't know how to feel.

The silence was emanating. Finally, Dumbledore spoke once more.

"On a much happier note, you are now free to go to your dormitories and get some rest. Goodnight."

He raised his arms jovially. Lily noticed the flash of happiness and intelligence in his eye, and she smiled slightly. There was a shuffle of chairs as every one student in the Great Hall stood and headed toward the door. Every one student, of course, except Lily, and her Head counterpart, James.

…

"Comin', Prongs?" Sirius voiced from somewhere nearby. James heard him and turned somewhat slowly. He shook his head almost sadly.

"Meeting with Dumbledore and McGonagall," he uttered. "Head duties."

Sirius gaped at him for a few seconds. James stared right back with a half-frown on his face. But it was Peter who spoke next.

"Ah, well, we all know Prongs isn't gonna be able to have any fun nowadays, Padfoot. C'mon, let's go cause a ruckus without him."

Peter tugged on Sirius's sleeve and Sirius half-grinned at James, who returned it happily. He was glad that his friends understood so well, and if they didn't, he did not know what he would do. Gotta love those guys, he thought loyally. Poor Padfoot, having to cause trouble without me tonight. Ah, well…

The Great Hall emptied gradually, and James took a deep breath before he stood up and walked over to where Lily was standing. She looked as if she was patiently waiting, which made James smile. His heart fluttered again, and they walked side-by-side up to the Staff Table.

…

Dumbledore greeted them with a smile, at which Lily let out a quiet sigh of relief. The Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress stood before her. She noticed that the other professors had dispersed and obviously left, for they were alone in the ominous Great Hall. It seemed much larger than it even was before, when it was jam-packed with a thousand, chattering witches and wizards. Lily felt very inconspicuous at that moment.

"I see that you have both accepted your duties in the fullest. Congratulations," said Dumbledore. The smile never left his wrinkled face.

"Yes, Congratulations Evans, Potter," Professor McGonagall said kindly, tipping her head in the direction of each of them as she spoke. Lily swore she saw pride in her eyes, but it was gone in a flash. Or had it been there at all?

Lily didn't speak, but merely let her lips turn up obligingly, feeling rather proud. Professor McGonagall had never congratulated her, personally. Let's just say that Transfiguration was not Lily's most potent subject. There was a pause between them all and Lily bit her lip, not really knowing what to say.

"You're both crazy, you know that?" James said suddenly, looking from Professor Dumbledore to Professor McGonagall.

Lily's mouth fell open and she looked at the boy next to her quizzically. Did he really just say that, or am I losing my mind? Did he just call the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry CRAZY? She shook her head, at which he smiled without regret. Like he doesn't even care. How typical is that? Stupid Potter.

"Thank you for that assessment, Mr. Potter, however, I am quite certain that you are fully qualified for this job, as, if you recall, we discussed earlier this summer." Lily could have sworn she saw Dumbledore wink at James. She could not believe that James was going to get away with that, but then it went off in her head like a light bulb. Duh, Lily, he's probably been to his office a hundred times in the past 6 years, what with all the trouble he's caused! Of course they're on good terms. That's terrible, getting in trouble enough to know the Headmaster.

"Moving along. This meeting is only going to be very abrupt, I'm afraid. Firstly, do you have any questions for myself or Professor McGonagall?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing to his right where the professor stood.

Lily shook her head. She knew her duties and she knew them well. James however, spoke up.

"Do we have our own common room?" he asked.

Dumbledore held up a hand and responded, "You are getting ahead of me, Mr. Potter." He turned to Professor McGonagall. "You may go if you so desire, Minerva, if they've no further questions."

Professor McGonagall, suddenly seeming very tired indeed, nodded at the three of them in turn. "Good luck, you two. I expect you will need it." and with a swish of her robes, she was out the side door to the Great Hall. Lily watched her go, listening to the loud echoes of her footsteps as the sound bounced off the walls. Again, she was reminded of how imposing the Great Hall seemed to be and looked around hesitantly. She wasn't sure what to say; she had never actually had a proper conversation with the Headmaster, and James being completely silent didn't help either…

…

As soon as the door shut behind Professor McGonagall, James snapped his attention back to Dumbledore instantaneously. His blood was hammering in his ears, thump… thump… thump…he was astounded that neither Lily nor Dumbledore had mentioned that awful racket. There he was, with Lily, side by side, barely inches apart. He wanted to lean right over and…

"Shall we?" Dumbledore asked, interrupting James's mind wanderings. James had a god-awful feeling that he could see what James was seeing, which made him grimace wryly. Dumbledore swished past them and, turning on their heels, James and Lily followed him out the main Great Hall door.

Nobody said anything, which made James want to scream into the quiet. He heard nothing except the soft padding of their shoes hitting the cold floor. He peaked over at Lily, who was staring straight ahead, looking exactly how James felt: disturbed by the quiet. He looked at Dumbledore's back.

"Where are we going, Professor?" he asked, trying to sound polite but knowing he seemed impatient. Dumbledore stopped abruptly (and when he did, both James and Lily nearly ran into him).

"Why, we are going to your dormitory," he responded simply with a kind look. Dumbledore turned and started walking once more.

"Oh, wicked, so we do have our own common—"

"Dormitory? We have a whole dormitory to ourselves?" Lily cut him off. He looked at her, his stomach hosting its own three-ring circus. Wait, he thought, he did say dormitory, didn't he?

"Yes, I am afraid you do," Dumbledore said without looking at them. James heard the smile in his voice.

"So all of our stuff will be in there?" Lily asked. She seemed distressed at something; he couldn't tell what.

Um, hello, she doesn't want to have a dormitory with you, a little voice inside the back of James's head retorted scathingly. James mentally kicked the little voice further back inside his head and continued to follow Dumbledore.

"No, not all of our things, Miss Evans. Only half. You are, of course, still permitted to sleep in Gryffindor Tower if you so desire. The other half of your things will be there. However," Dumbledore paused. He still hadn't looked around at them. "a few more personal items have been stored here by the House Elves tonight. Ah, here we are."

They had stopped before an ample painting of a young griffin, which roared almost childishly at their arrival. James grinned expressively when he saw the winged lion.

"Tenderfoot?" James asked inquisitorially. "S'that you?"

…

"Master Prongs," the little eagle-lion replied, flapping its tail out behind it importantly. Lily was rather shocked at how low the child griffin's voice was. It looked rather small against its dark background, and though it was only a young one, it looked important, omnipotent even, as it sat there on its hind legs, its tail waving behind him sophisticatedly. Lily stared.

"Ah, I see you two have met," Dumbledore said. Lily saw his mustache twitch with amusement. Lily stared. How on Earth does he know this little guy?

"We have," Tenderfoot proclaimed in his slow, deep voice. "These are the Head Students, I take it?"

Dumbledore nodded slowly. Lily looked from one to the other. There was a pause, in which Tenderfoot broke with grace.

"Are you quite out of your mind, Albus?"

Lily couldn't help it. She laughed right out. Realizing what she did, she clamped a hand over her mouth. James turned around and grinned at her. She saw the three staring at her and blushed, her neck and ears burning with embarrassment. Tenderfoot waved his tail mischievously and looked back at Dumbledore.

"Perhaps, good Tenderfoot, but the question of my sanity is not the matter at hand. We must choose a password for these young adults, don't you agree?"

Tenderfoot nodded in his wise manner, his elegant white feathers shining against an unknown light source. Lily watched in amazement as the young griffin stood on all four legs and spread its wings, as if it were sensing danger. Its amber eyes flashed. Before she thought about looking around for whatever was nearby, however, she saw the playful glint in his eye and continued to look in awe.

"What," Tenderfoot proclaimed, his voice sounding so… Lily couldn't describe it. "is your password, Master Prongs and Mistress Fire-Hair?"

Fire-hair? Lily couldn't stop smiling. This painting seemed so different than the others. It made her feel… important, special even.

"Chanceux," James said instantly. Lily stared at him curiously. What was that, French? (A/N: sorry if I'm terribly wrong on that, there. If I am, my deepest apologies.)

"Sounds good to me," she responded, deciding it would probably be best not to argue. She would probably memorize it anyway.

Tenderfoot's wings flapped once, and he stated, "Chanceux it is. Welcome to the Head Dormitory."

He swung forward. Dumbledore stepped in front of her but James let her pass through with a wave of his hand. She took is proffering and rested her foot on the floor before her. She gasped.

The room that she had just walked into was smaller than one would expect, but magnificent. The walls were a rich, deep red, accentuated by a stone fireplace that took up nearly half of one wall, giving it an old Victorian look. It was a simple common room, Lily decided, as she saw but one very comfortable-looking couch and two plush chairs, surrounding a dark wooden table. The lighting was dim. Lily saw no windows, but instead (where she decided a window should be), a vast pair of bookshelves, covering a wall and a half, so towering that she thought there ought to be a ladder to reach the top shelf. Allowing her eyes to scan over the two chairs identical to those by the fireplace and a tall floor lamp, she found a rolling ladder that curved the bookshelves.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Wow is right," agreed James. She looked at him; he was looking around with the same awed expression that Lily knew was plastered on her face. "I've never seen anything like it."

Lily couldn't agree more; she had been to many beautiful places in her life, but she had never, in all her 16 years, seen anything such as this. Simplicity is beauty, she remarked as she took it all in. I can't believe I'm going to be living here.

"Your dormitories," Dumbledore said suddenly. Lily had almost forgotten he was there, but followed where he pointed with his hand to the wall to their left. There was a short wooden door with designs of lions and eagles and griffins carved into it and an ancient-looking doorknob. James took the initiative and stepped past her, and he twiddled the door handle. It creaked as he turned it, as did the door when he pulled.

Lily followed him into a rather spacious but short hallway. On the wall opposite, Lily saw two doors; both looked as ancient as the first with old, tarnished handles and intricate details in the wood. A dull gold plaque on each door bared their names and positions as Head Boy and Girl.

"Feel free to explore to your hearts' desires," Dumbledore said. Lily looked round at him and he smiled. "If you have no further inquiries then I will take the initiative to leave, and let you get some well-deserved rest. Goodnight, Miss Evans. Goodnight, Mr. Potter."

And with that, Dumbledore was gone. Lily heard the portrait open with a small scuffle and shut once more, leaving the two in silence.

Lily's eyes fell on James as she turned her head back. He was watching her; they made eye contact. Lily was confused. Why's he watching me? Oh, god, do I have something on my face?

Lily rubbed at her cheek slightly, feeling strangely self-conscious. James quirked his eyebrow, and then turned and stepped into his own room. She thought she saw his ears turn red, but she might've imagined it. Lily noticed that his door didn't squeak. Following his actions, Lily turned the knob to her own room and pushed the door in.

Lily looked around with a second gasp tonight. Her room was positively marvelous! It was huge; the size of her new common room and more. The walls were a pale color—was it crème? Her eyes flowed across the room. She had a green-sheeted, canopied bed and a wardrobe, each in a dark, ebony wood, and a bedside table. She saw a monstrous vanity on another wall, and a painting or two on the large walls. A second, smaller bookshelf than in the Common Room resided in one corner, and next to it, placed two pale green chairs. There was a second fireplace, she saw, which was smaller than the one in the common room but looked as though it was sturdy. The mantle was lined with photos. Walking over, she looked at each one in turn; Lily and Alice way back in first year… Lily and Emmeline… Lily and her parents… She smiled.

Continuing her walk around the room, she stopped before the large vanity and looked at her face in the mirror. She touched the spot where she had rubbed her cheek just moments before. Why should I care if I had something on my face? She dropped her hand and frowned, just looking at herself. Her dull, dark red hair, her annoyingly bright green eyes, and her white, freckle-blanketed skin made her feel disgusting and suddenly self-conscious. What the hell am I thinking? There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way I look… is there?

Well… objected a little voice in her head, if your skin was darker or your hair was lighter, or both, you would've probably had gotten a boyfriend by now.

She inwardly winced at the candidness of the statement. She just stared into her own eyes for a bit, sulking. Maybe if I wasn't so terribly ugly, I would have a boyfriend by now. Honestly, am I that hard on the eyes? She was angry with herself, wishing so dearly that she looked more like her mother, when she heard a voice behind her.

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you look, Lily Flower," James voiced from her doorway. She looked in the mirror and saw him staring around her room, his arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. She blushed slightly, noticing that it made her look even more terrible than she already did (Ugh, is that even possible? She thought scathingly).

"Don't call me Lily Flower," she said. She felt anger bubbling in her for a reason she couldn't fathom. Perhaps it was because the compliment he had paid her cleverly laced between short words gave her a feeling she didn't like; confusion and flattery. She had never received any compliments from anyone other than her teachers telling her she did excellent work on a homework assignment or from James Potter himself. She felt the anger bubbling and could see an argument coming on.

…

"I'm sorry," James said quickly, knowing it was probably a very stupid thing for him to say, no matter how true it was. "I didn't mean to upset you or anything—"

"Yeah, well, you did, didn't you?" Lily retorted, snapping. James wondered why she was so angry; he had just paid her a simple compliment, that's all. It's not like it wasn't true.

There was a pause, in which Lily promptly started reorganizing pictures on her mantle. James wondered what was going on. Didn't she just make friends with me no less than 2 hours ago? What's with the sudden change of heart? Thinking this, he felt his heart sink into his stomach, dropping… dropping… he was surprised it didn't literally hit the floor and smash at the look on Lily's face. She didn't look angry. She seemed… he didn't know. Was it embarrassment, or… what? James had absolutely no idea what he'd said, either…

Deciding that silence was getting him absolutely nowhere, he changed the subject. "I like your room. It's very you." He looked around. He was right; everything was bright and pure and seemed to give off a warm, sentimental, caring atmosphere. It was very Lily.

"Oh?" she responded, now sounding lighthearted. She turned to stare at him almost coldly, but not quite. She seemed to have warmed up a little bit.. James noticed how sick he felt when their eyes met. "And how would you know what I'm like, Potter?"

Potter. When she called me James on the train, was it only because of the company? At least she's warmed up a bit now..

"Just do." James wondered if he would be crossing a line when he said, "Everything in here is so brilliant, and sophisticated, and… beautiful. It just seemed to be a room you ought to have."

Lily continued to stare at him, looking as though she were angry again. James wasn't sure, so quickly continued, "I mean, my room's just like me—loud, annoying, and full up to the brim of Quidditch." It was true. "C'mon, I'll prove it to you."

And he walked out the door, praying that Lily had followed him. He walked down the hall and jiggled the doorknob to his own room. He pushed it open for Lily, who had thankfully (and surprisingly) followed him. She stepped in, and James followed her. He stared at the back of her head, shaking.

Oh god, he thought, realizing that he should've thought this through. Oh god, Lily Evans is in my bedroom… alone… with me… He thought he was going to faint. He was shaking and he felt a sweat drop on his forehead. Oh bloody hell, say something, Prongs!

"See?" he said, gesturing around the room. It was identical to his room at his home with a few added features—hardwood floors, a nightstand, a wardrobe, a desk, a large fireplace with seating, and a picture-covered mantle… A single Quidditch poster hung on the wall above his desk, next to which stood his Nimbus 1700. "Loud, annoying, and full up to the brim of Quidditch."

"You are such a liar," Lily said. She was smiling as she turned to face him. He thought he would pass out right then and there. Her eyes flashed a beautiful shade of green, coming alive and dancing as the light from the fireplace hit them. He gulped.

"Am not. See—full up to the brim of Quidditch!" He pointed to the single poster and his broomstick.

"Oh, yes, I can see that much," she replied sarcastically. "Where's the loud and annoying bit?"

James looked around quickly and found what he was looking for. He walked over to the fireplace and picked up a framed picture. Lily soon followed to where he stood. He showed the picture to her.

She laughed, right out loud. James grinned (She was just pissed and now she's laughing. You still got it, Prongs.), chuckling slightly as he looked down at the framed, moving photograph. It was of, none other, than Sirius Black himself, resting his gloriously dry head and hands atop of James's, who looked slightly disheveled and completely soaked.

"My, don't you look pleased?" said Lily, still smiling. James thought he could die happy at the expression he knew he had caused. "What did he do?"

"Dumped water on me, that git," he laughed. "He claims he was trying to wake me up. Said he needed to tell me something life-and-death important but I was 'too busy dreaming of Miss L—"

He stopped abruptly and sucked in a deep breath. Oh, shit.

…

Lily stared at him, wondering why he stopped telling her the story, which she had found quite amusing with the accompany of the picture. "Of Miss…?"

"Of Miss—leading Owls, that's what," said James, raising his eyebrows slightly and their eyes met. Lily looked at him, trying to find a hint as to if he were telling the truth. She could find nothing, however; either he was telling the truth or he was a very skilled liar.

"Misleading owls?" she asked. What the—?

"Yep. Misleading owls. It's a—er, a private joke," he explained with a smile. She tipped her head to the side and quirked an eyebrow, but decided she would not inquire any further.

"Hmm. Well, I'd best be off, then," she said, looking at her watch and heading for the door.

"Where're you going?" he asked her. She turned on her heel and gaped at him.

"Elsewhere, obviously. If you must know, it'll probably be to bed… I'll see you tomorrow, James."

…

That was so close, thought James, his pulse returning to normal from where it had been a mile a minute just seconds ago. I can't believe I almost told her! How disastrous would that have been!

You know, it wouldn't have been that bad. At least you would feel better about it.

Yeah, but not right after we just became friends today! I don't think that would be a very good idea, you idiot.

Deciding that it was obviously pointless to argue with himself, James looked down at the picture he held in his hand. Smiling, he set the picture of Sirius and himself back in its place upon the mantle.

He felt restless. He wanted to go outside in the pouring rain and play Quidditch until he could move no more, or until sunrise, whichever came first.

He knew, however, that Filch locked the doors to the grounds at 9 o'clock. It was now 8:50, he determined by consulting his watch, but he knew that, from where he was, he would not be able to get outside without anybody noticing, whether underneath his inherited Invisibility Cloak or not.

Sighing, he flopped down on his bed. He was unsurprised at how comfortable it was. He looked around at his nightstand. It was missing something… something important. He frowned, and then, caught by a stroke of brilliance, looked in the drawer that was part of the nightstand.

"Ah, those house elves… never miss a beat," he proclaimed happily, picking up the picture and setting it atop the stand. A fifteen-year-old, angry Lily yelled at a younger version of himself and he couldn't help but smile.

"Lily, Lily, Lily," he whispered to himself, feeling sick to his stomach and happy and determined and crazy all at once. "If only you knew what you do to me…" And with that, James Potter was fast asleep on top of his covers, still in his school uniform.

…

Author's Note: Hullo, all! I'm down with this chapter. It's kinda boring, but that is ok! IDK what's with the title, Powerful Words, but I thought it sort of fit. Anyway, R&R, please! Kudos to my homedawgs who review!