A sixth-year boy ran into the common room and stowed what looked (and smelled) like a bag stuffed full of dungbombs down the back of a sofa.
"What's the big deal?" a girl who he'd shoved out of the way asked indignantly.
"Cost me five Galleons, these did! McGonagall's coming up here and I don't want another detention."
"Yeah, you'd better watch it. That's three Quidditch practices you've missed now!"
"Don't I know it! I've still got bruises from when Nell lost it with me."
The girl snickered. "Serves you right, though. You're the only person I know who managed to get caught by Filch in the Forest."
"I didn't know the stinking git even left the castle! All he's done is prowl since he got here. Gets off on making our lives hell, he does."
The only reason Lily could hear this conversation was that she and Chrissy were sitting in identical armchairs on the other side of the common room fire. Chrissy smirked at her and jerked her head at the Portrait Hole, which was swinging open.
A few people turned round in surprise. It was very unusual for their Head of House to come to the common room. In fact, she normally reserved her visits for big news. Before anyone could start questioning conversations, however, Professor McGonagall spoke.
"Don't panic. I'm not here to bring bad news." A few people breathed sighs of relief, and others rolled their eyes. "You would have heard this at breakfast tomorrow morning. However, I will not be here as I have to run some important errands outside the school." Lily glanced at Remus, sitting across from her, who looked non-plussed. "I have news about your Divination Professor."
Lily saw Chrissy look up, interested. Their Divination Professor had been taken ill in October, and they had made do with a succession of substitute teachers since then. Lily didn't particularly like the subject, but Professor Carter had been nice, and she would be happy to hear that he was recovering.
"Is he better, Professor?" someone asked.
"Professor Carter is recovering, yes, but he says that he will sadly not be joining us again. He has retired, and his replacement will arrive tomorrow. Any of you with Divination lessons in the afternoon will have them with your new Professor."
A buzz of chatter filled the room. Nothing particularly interesting had happened in the past week, so people were keen for some new gossip.
"There is another thing I wish to say, If I may." Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and gave a rather severe look to a group of third-year girls who were giggling loudly. Needless to say, they quietened down rather abruptly. "The fifth-year Muggle Studies class are requested to attend an extra lesson in your usual classroom at 7 p.m. tomorrow evening. Should any of you have a problem with that, please give your apologies to your Professor through a friend who will be attending."
Professor McGonagall swept out of the room in a hurried manner, leaving the fifth-years to wonder what an extra Muggle Studies lesson meant. All of Lily's Gryffindor friends apart from Carrie had opted to take Muggle Studies, so their evening was spent happily pondering the possibilities of the next evening.
x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x
Lily, James and Chrissy hauled themselves up the stepladder to the room at the very top of North Tower for their Divination lesson the next afternoon. As they entered the normally dark and dingy room, they had to shield their eyes. Sunlight streamed in from the high windows, bouncing off dangling chains of beads and sequins. The light didn't reach the floor, however, and the plush poufs and armchairs were, as usual, shrouded in shadows.
The three of them, being the only Gryffindors who had deigned to arrive early to what most people deemed to be a pointless or frustrating lesson, sat and waited silently for a few moments, and Chrissy was the one to speak first.
"What's up with you two?"
Lily looked up, startled. "What do you mean?" James looked equally astonished, but Lily suspected that his look was only that; she, unlike him, was fearing imminent embarrassment. Surely Chrissy wouldn't be tactless enough to mention anything now.
"You know what I mean. You two are normally like this," Chrissy crossed her fingers in the air in front of them, "Have you had another fight? You swore you were okay with each other," Christina glared at Lily, "and you did, too," her gaze was on James now.
Lily made a mental note to ask Chrissy what else she had been asking James regarding her, and then (also mentally) told herself to shut up and get a grip. She then realised she was being glared at, and opened her mouth to speak, but James got there before her.
"Well I'm not doing anything. I've been nothing but perfectly civil, and –"
"Civil? You've barely spoken to me all day!"
"I haven't done a thing!" James looked at her indignantly.
"Exactly!"
"Well I'm sorry we haven't had a conversation for the best part of a day; I didn't realise we were supposed to be glued at the hip!"
Lily realised she must look like a bit of an idiot with her mouth hanging open like that, but for some reason her jaw didn't seem to feel like returning to its usual position. However, James's disgruntled attention was soon diverted from her goldfish impression.
"Oh, for heaven's sake – I didn't mean to start a domestic!"
"Chris, leave it," Lily said, quietly.
"Yeah," James said. "Lily knows I'm joking, right Lil?"
Lily opened her mouth, shut it, then said, "Er, yeah. Course," which was, naturally, a complete lie.
"Sure about that?" he smirked.
"Of course I'm bloody sure. That doesn't mean it's funny to just go around winding people up, though. You can be so immature sometimes."
"Immature but incredibly funny."
"No, not funny." James looked at her disbelievingly. "Oh, alright. Damn funny as long as I'm not the target. Got it?"
"Got what?"
"Stop trying to wind me up."
"Stop talking to me then."
"Fine, I will."
"Okay then."
"Right."
"Prat."
"Idiot."
"Twerp."
"Cow."
"Immature freak."
"Bossy know-it-all."
"Charmless nerk."
"Complete lunatic."
"Infernal procrastinator."
"What's a prothinginator?"
"Ha! Being a bossy know-it-all has its perks."
"Like being a walking dictionary, you mean?"
"Better than being a walking ego."
"And this is you not talking to me, is it?"
"Just because you lost."
"I did not lose."
"Yes you did."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did. You're just a stinking bad loser."
Chrissy was wearing an expression which comprised an interesting combination of defeated boredom and amusement.
"Bad loser? Me?"
"Yes, you!"
"Oh yeah, because you never storm off in a huff when I beat you at chess."
"No I don't."
"Do so!"
"No I don't, mainly because you never beat me at chess!"
"The accusation! I'll have you know that I remember perfectly well –" James was cut off by another voice from behind the three, and an unfamiliar one at that.
"What is this? Fighting? Before we 'ave even begun?" The voice was deep and feminine, and they all spun around. A formidable-looking black woman stood behind them, hands on hips, lips pursed in Lily's direction.
"Er, we're sorry, but –"
"Who are you?" Chrissy asked, rather bluntly, and Lily grimaced, thinking that this wasn't one of Chrissy's wisest moves.
"Moi? I am Madame Forte, your Divination Professor, and I will teach you to 'ave a leetle more respect for your teachers, Mademoiselle!"
Even James wasn't laughing. "Like Lily said, Professor –"
"I was under ze impression zat I 'ad addressed your friend, monsieur. Now, if you will kindly shut your mouth and let 'er explain 'erself, as she is obviously ze most outspoken of your leetle trio, I may resink my opinion of you. Do I make myself clear?"
James gulped, and Lily had the strange urge to giggle as she saw James Potter lost for words. "Yes, Professor."
"Madame."
"Yes, Madame."
"Thank you. Now, Mademoiselle…"
"Marsden, Pro- Madame."
"First name?"
"Christina."
"And you?" she rounded on Lily.
"Lily Evans."
Madame Forte frowned for a moment. "James Potter?"
"Oui."
"Ah, you try to make me feel at 'ome?" James grimaced, waiting for another telling off, but it didn't come. "Merci beaucoup. Per'aps I was mistaken about you after all." James grinned, and Lily scowled at him. Why could he always get himself out of trouble with practically no effort? "So, we 'ave Christina Marsden – Chrissy, non?" Chrissy nodded. "Aussi, Lily Evans and James Potter. Where, zen, is Sirius Black? I 'eard you two were almost never wizout each uzzer. Or am I mistaken again, M. Potter?"
"Not mistaken, Madame," came Sirius's voice, and he almost bounded forward from the front of the classroom, where no one had seen him lurking. "I, the honourable and notorious Sirius Black, am at your service."
"Fantastique!"
"Mais oui!" Sirius beamed, and Lily sank into her chair in empathetic embarrassment for Sirius, though he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. "One for all and all for one and all that…"
Madame Forte raised an eyebrow. She looked at Sirius from behind square glasses perched on the end of her nose. "But I believe there were three musketeers, not two…"
"And here's the third!" Sirius grinned, dragging Remus out from behind him. Remus, Lily was glad to see, looked moderately embarrassed. At least one of them had some pride.
"Ah, magnifique!" Madame Forte beamed. "And who might you be, sir?"
Lily noticed that, as Mme Forte got less angry, her French accent receded, but it seemed that she preferred French adjectives to English ones.
"Remus Lupin," he muttered.
"Remus? Bon! I gather zat you are all to be taking my class, oui?"
"Yes indeedy," Sirius said, and Lily sank lower in her seat.
"In zat case," said Mme Forte, her eyes narrowing and voice lowering, "I will 'ave Sirius at ze front on ze left, and Remus on ze right. I trust zat you girls are capable of keeping an eye on zis garçon?" Her gaze shifted to Chrissy, who nodded mutely, and then to Lily, who replied.
"Oui, naturellement."
"Ah, anozer wiz a taste for my language? Très bien. But if I see any misbehaviour –" she looked at James, "- and I will see, let zere be no doubt about zat –" then to Lily, "- zen zere will be repercussions. Understand?"
"Yes," said Lily with a sigh. If she and Chrissy were to sit with James, trouble would be inescapable. The Marauders, even at distant corners of the room, were always a force to be reckoned with, and when they set their minds on something, there was little anyone could hope to do about it. It was a pity, Lily thought absent-mindedly, that what the four Gryffindors invariably set their minds on was trouble.
Several more students appeared from the shadows near the portrait hole, and before long, every pouf and armchair in the room was filled.
Madame Forte began her class, as all the teachers did when they first had a class, by taking the register. At first, her French accent caused several people to giggle, particularly at her mispronunciation of names. However, as soon as she glared at the offenders, they would immediately cease their laughter. After all, thought Lily, it wasn't very pleasant to be on the receiving end of one of those looks. When Mme Forte reached Lily's name in the list, she looked up and said, "See me at the end please, Mademoiselle." Lily sighed and nodded, and wasn't surprised that her new Professor repeated this at Christina's name and James's.
Mme Forte was the kind of teacher who commanded respect: the class soon learned that they could share a joke with their teacher, but they would have to be very careful to toe the line. As soon as any of them went over the top, they were given such a yelling at that Lily felt she might soon develop a headache. One look at Remus, siting on the front row, was enough to tell her that those sitting closer to the source of the noise were much worse off.
The first few minutes of the lesson were taken up by an explanation of Mme Forte's unexpected replacement of their previous teacher, Professor Carter. It turned out that Mme Forte used to teach at Beauxbatons, "Surprise, surprise," James said. That explained the French accent, anyway. Professor Dumbledore had apparently asked her to take over Professor Carter's classes, as she was not expected back soon, if at all.
Their new Professor had a much more practical approach to Divination than they were used to, and Lily found that the subject made a lot more sense the way Mme Forte taught it than the way she had learned before. They began by reading tea leaves, as they had done at the beginning of the year, because Mme Forte said it would be "beneficial to see the differences between ze many interpretations of zis renowned skill." Lily could see her point, although she didn't have much more success reading James's tea leaves than she had before.
"Professor," Lisa Brocklehurst sang out from the front of the room in her seat next to Sirius, where she was presumably attempting to read signs in the soggy pulp at the bottom of his cup.
"Oui?" Madame Forte was at her side almost instantly.
"Professor, what does a motorbike mean? It doesn't give any muggle vehicles in our textbook…"
"Cool, a motorbike?" Sirius said with glee, "I've always wanted one of those!"
"Let me see," Mme Forte said imperiously. "Hmm…a motorbike indeed. It almost looks airborne…a flying motorbike? I 'ave never encountered one of zese in ze tea leaves."
Lisa looked intrigued, but Sirius was gazing into space, mouthing what looked suspiciously like, "A flying motorbike…I hadn't thought of that…"
Lily turned to James, who was busy telling Chrissy that she was going to be trampled by a herd of centaurs, and said, "James, promise me that if Sirius ever buys a flying motorbike, you'll never ride on it."
"What?" said James, who had clearly missed Lisa's conversation with Mme Forte.
"If Sirius ever gets a flying motorbike, promise me you'll never ride on it," she repeated.
"Er…okay," James said, still looking bewildered, and Chrissy started laughing. "Now what?" he asked, looking worried.
Chrissy stopped laughing, but still looked highly amused. "You two. One minute you're arguing, the next minute you're agreeing to anything Lily says, however stupid."
"Hey, that is not stupid! Don't tell me you want James falling off a flying motorbike and killing himself!"
"Well no, but why would that have anything to do with Sir-" she was cut off by Mme Forte, who was announcing that the lesson was finished.
"I will see you all again tomorrow, I 'ope. And you three," she looked at Lily, Chrissy and James, "do not forget zat I wish to speak to you."
James sighed, and the three of them slumped in their seats. Mme Forte came over, waited for the others to leave the classroom, then addressed Chrissy.
"All I 'ave to say to you is zat you should look out for your friends." She didn't seem to notice that Chrissy looked highly confused, but continued. "Learn to feel zeir auras and you should do better. Zey need you, never forget zat."
Chrissy nodded, and gestured to the open trapdoor. "Should I-?" Mme Forte nodded dramatically and made a waving motion towards the ladder sticking out from the hole in the corner of the room.
"Professor, what did you want to speak to us about?" Lily asked quickly. She didn't particularly want to stay here for long. If she was going to be told off (though she didn't see quite what she had done wrong), she would rather just get it over with.
Mme Forte drew herself up impressively, and spoke in ringing tones. "Quite 'ow you expect anyone to make a decent prediction in zis class is unclear, as ze pair of you seem intent upon casting a bad aura around us."
"Bad aura?" James echoed.
"Did I ask for a parrot? Non." Lily couldn't help it – she just had to snigger. "And you – you should know better! You should know zat boys are immature. I thought," Mme Forte's eyes narrowed again, and Lily heard her bangles jangle as she placed one hand on her hip, using the other to gesticulate wildly as she talked, "zat you would 'ave more sense, girl! Whezzer you 'ave any faith in zis subject is completely beyond my control, but I would at least ask you to set some store by my abilities as a Diviner! I can tell more about your futures zan you can comprehend, Miss Evans, and I would thank you not to ridicule something you know so little about merely because it frightens you."
Lily looked flabberghasted. "Frightened?"
"Ah, I see we 'ave a troupe of talking macaws! 'Ad I finished? Non! As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you would do well to learn to appreciate knowledge beyond zat which your textbooks can show you. Not all truths in our world are corporeal, and perhaps you are lucky not to know what I know."
"Madame, are you –" Mme Forte span around to look at James, "- are you saying you know what's going to happen to us? In the future, I mean…" he trailed off, looking apprehensive. Lily wondered if he, like herself, felt that perhaps he didn't want to know.
"Zis is why I am always so frustrated! You children, you cannot begin to understand… Nothing is certain. Ze future, like ze present, is ever-changing and never still, not for one moment. I can sense no-one's future. Neizer can I predict for certain an event, as many claim is possible. Divination is not the art of telling the future. It is the art of reading the past; sensing the present; feeling the signs. All I can sense is an aura: a kind of feeling of what may 'appen, or some hint or clue as to what is to come."
"Why…" Lily spoke, and Mme Forte didn't cut her off. "Why are you telling us this, Professor? Have you sensed something from one of us?" Lily caught James's eye and blushed. He was looking at her in a…she supposed intense was the right word. In an intense sort of way. It wasn't the first time she had felt that she had said something that he would have asked, or that her thoughts had come out of his mouth. She supposed she could put it down to being such close friends, but a little part of her wanted to believe it was a sign. But hadn't she told herself, and others, that signs and portents were bollocks?
"I don't know why I am telling you this, Lily." Mme Forte's voice was quieter, and her accent was almost gone. She sat down heavily in Chrissy's vacated chair, and sighed. "From you two I can sense only fog." The two of them looked at her, puzzled, and she elaborated. "There are bad feelings between you two. I did not have to hear you arguing to know this. However, I cannot know whether what I sense is merely emotional or whether I have stumbled across a deeper sign; a trace of something else. Until you have put aside your differences, whatever they may be, I cannot tell."
"But Professor," James said quietly, "that wasn't a real argument. Lily and I –" he looked down, refusing to catch Lily's eye, "- we don't fight. Not really. I mean, we argue, but who doesn't? There's nothing deeper going on, we're just friends who have a joke around, that's all. Right?"
Something about these words stung. 'We're just friends who have a joke around, that's all. Right?' Lily knew, deep down, that he could not have meant this in any other way than to say that they were good friends, not enemies, but it still hurt. Of course James wouldn't go around telling teachers, 'Yeah, me and Lily – we're about to be a couple. I've liked her for ages, of course, but nothing's really happened.' Even if that was true, why would he say it? But that didn't change the fact that it hurt.
Lily suddenly became aware of the fact that she was being stared at. They were waiting for an answer. "Oh, right. I mean, yeah. We're good mates and all that." She knew she was blushing, but hoped desperately that the gloomy classroom with its creeping shadows would hide her sudden embarrassment.
Mme Forte looked disbelieving for a fleeting moment, and Lily wondered if she had imagined the look of curiosity that flickered over her Professor's face, but then stopped wondering. It didn't matter whether she was curious or not – there was nothing to be curious about.
"Well, zere is certainly something 'ere. I cannot tell you what, but zat is no surprise. Your problems are your own to solve." Her accent was back as she looked from James to Lily, and from Lily to James. "'Owever, when Professor Dumbledore offered me zis position, 'e was convinced zat I could 'elp 'is students. I am wondering now whezzer I can 'elp you."
"We don't need helping, Professor." Lily was shocked to hear James's voice turn hard and cold.
"You don't? Well, I am sure zat I can find someone who can better appreciate my time! I am 'ere if you want my 'elp, but you should know zat I cannot do anything for you until you are honest wiz each uzzer!" Lily cringed, and she knew that James was looking at her. He got up, and she followed suit, slowly. "Leave me in peace now, ungrateful boy! And you too," she looked at Lily, "alzough I 'ave a feeling you know more zan you're letting on, Mademoiselle."
That was the worst thing Mme Forte could have said, thought Lily as she left the classroom behind James. Now James was bound to ask her questions to which she could give no answers.
Wow. As you know, this took me an unimaginably long time to write. Well, actually it's more the first little section that took me that long - the rest happened in a couple of days. Anyway, I am so sorry for taking so long; I'd really lost track of how long it was since I'd updated. I haven't been feeling great over the past couple of months, so it's been difficult to get round to doing anything constructive, but hopefully I'm back on track now!
Again, so sorry - and thank you to everyone for your reviews, and for sticking with me.
Becca xxx