Close Encounters

October 1976, Second-Floor Corridor Broom Cupboard

This was the worst moment of Lily Evans' life, and she knew it. She was stuck in a cupboard, hiding from the incensed Argus Filch, the bottom of her robes soaked in green slime that smelled like frog spawn, and that wasn't even the worst of it. She was stuck in here with HIM. She glowered down at him, James Fleamont Potter, in a decidedly better mood than she was, peeping out the keyhole to observe Filch's struggles. Every time the Squib tried to mop the slime off the stone floor, it would stretch and engorge, growing huge lime-green bubbles that burst with a squelching sound, covering even more of the floor with the goo. James put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh. This only served to infuriate Lily more.

"So unbelievably immature." she hissed. He turned to her, an amused look on his face.

"Ah yes Evans, you're right as usual. But you see, we've been a bit low recently, and thought the best way to revive our spirits was with some reliable nostalgia. So we pulled out one of our old staples. You surely remember the great dungeon sliming of '73?"

"How could I forget?" she whispered furiously. "We couldn't get into the Potions classroom for a week! My SquidsbaneDraught was ruined."

"And I'm sure all the cephalopods in Britain were eternally grateful." He had the audacity to chuckle.

Filch had apparently given up on the mop and was now beating the slime with a damp gray rag. It made Lily feel nauseous, and she sank onto a pile of boxes with a quiet groan.

James looked back at her and his expression changed immediately to one of concern. "You alright, Evans?"

"Spiffy" she spat. Her head was pounding now, the fumes from the slime and the various broom-cleaning potions in the closet combining to make her eyes burn.

"Right, only, you look a bit peaky." To her horror, she saw him kneel down so that his face was level with hers.

She tried to sputter in indignation, but the words died on her lips. Why was he so close to her? Her shoulders twitched, and something in her stomach made an unpleasant swooping motion that had nothing to do with her nausea. If only to get him away from her, she muttered, "Headache."

He smiled. "Can I help?" She drew a deep breath and made eye contact with him. She tried to arrange her expression to look wary, and it must have worked because he gave a short, quiet laugh.

"Don't worry Evans, I'm not going to curse you." He took out his wand, gently tapped it to her temple, and murmured "Cephalgium eliminare". The relief was immediate, and she smiled in spite of herself. He grinned, apparently pleased, and blessedly rose to his feet once more, sending the swooping creature in her stomach back into hiding.

She took another deep breath and stood up, but as she did, the box she was sitting on slid backward unexpectedly and she found herself tipping precariously back. A strong hand grasped her arm and pulled her to her feet, steadying her.

"Whoops-a-daisy," James chuckled merrily. "Don't let me sweep you off your feet, Evans, I haven't earned that right yet."

This of course made her furious, but he kept grinning cheekily, and instead of enraging her more, like it used to, she felt her steely demeanor soften a touch. Something in that smile…

She managed a breathy response along the lines of "At least you're self-aware."

He smiled, genuinely this time, and she felt something thrum in her heart. He was awfully close. His eyes were hazel. Had she ever noticed his eyes before? She could feel his breath on her cheek…

Suddenly, the door whipped open and Lily started, burst out of her reverie. Sirius Black was standing there, grinning maliciously.

"What ho!"

Lily's face was burning. She gathered her composure and brushed past Sirius. The cool air of the hallway refreshed her some. She whirled around, ready to tell the boys off as usual, but was caught off-guard by those twinkling coppery eyes, boring deep into hers. Her mouth snapped shut and she spun back around.

"What on earth was that about, Prongs?" she heard Sirius inquire, amazedly, as she bustled away, trying to avoid the great patches of slime on the floor.

Her heart was, annoyingly, still pounding. It was official. The second-floor corridor broom cupboard was her least favorite place at Hogwarts.

Later that day, the Library

The library, however, was Lily's favorite place at Hogwarts. From the first time she had peered around the large oaken door, she had been captivated by the towering stacks of books, delighted by the floating light fixtures, comforted by the smell of old crinkly leather and parchment. Five years on, it was still a haven for her.

She sat with Remus at their favorite table. It was far enough away from the librarian's desk to be safe from the sharp ears of Madam Pince, but not tucked away in a dark and gloomy corner. The large, ornamented windows reflected a view of the grounds during the day, but at dusk, like now, hazy purple shadows fell and obscured the landscape. Lily was trying and failing to finish the three feet of Arithmancy work for Professor Vector, but she found her mind wandering, annoyingly, back to the cupboard.

She took a deep breath. "Remus," she began. He looked up, surprised. She never interrupted study time. "What's wrong?" He inquired. As she looked at her old friend, she was distressed by the new scars crisscrossing his face. She almost reached out a hand to him but resisted the urge.

"What is it?" he repeated concernedly. "Arithmancy giving you a headache again? I can't believe you're taking that up to NEWT level, it's positively self-punishment."

"No, no." Lily insisted. "I mean yes, this essay on 13th-century numerologists is absolute torture, but I've kind of – er – got my mind on something else at the moment."

"Oh?" Remus' eyes were a mix of concern and curiosity now. Work forgotten, he looked at her intently. She knew he remembered the last time she had confronted him like this - it was last month when she had asked him if he was a werewolf. They were alone in the courtyard, practicing Transfiguration, and she hadn't been able to hold it in any longer. As gently as she could, she told him what she suspected. When he buried his face in his hands in confirmation, she had rushed over to comfort him, reassuring him that she wasn't scared, she knew and trusted him, she would love him no matter what. She felt absolutely guilt-ridden when he looked up at her, a miserable look in his eyes, and made her swear not to tell a soul. She shook her head to clear the memory of Remus' desperate face from her mind and pressed on.

"It's just that…earlier today, I happened upon James and Sirius planting those ridiculous Zonko's Slimebusters in the second-floor corridor..."

"Ah, well..." Remus rubbed his neck in discomfort. "You know how they are." She knew it was a sore spot for him, not exercising his Prefect responsibilities to keep the boys in check.

"Yes but," she frowned. "Filch found us and we had to run…And Black, you know him, he just kind of scurried off and left us in the lurch. And James and I were…" she cleared her throat, a bit embarrassed to find her cheeks pinking up again. "Well, we had to hide in a broom cupboard, of all places…"

Remus chuckled, eyes dropping back down to his notes. "I bet you gave him an earful then."

"Yes, I mean no, oh never mind." She slammed her quill into the inkpot, frustrated with her inability to articulate what was bothering her. The tip of Madam Pince's hat was visible for a moment around the corner, but she retreated when no further outbursts followed.

Remus was looking at Lily with renewed alarm. It was no use, she couldn't explain this to him. He wouldn't understand, and anyway, she wasn't even sure what she wanted him to understand.

She tried again, valiantly. "Just…" She sighed. "Just tell them to quit fooling around as much. It adds too much bloody stress to my days."

He considered this for a moment, threading the feather on his quill through his fingers. "Well, they already aren't."

She looked up, surprised. "What?"

He tried again. "I mean, they're making a real effort to stop hexing Slytherins and stuff in the corridors. They're back to innocent pranks, for the most part. Haven't you noticed?"

"I-" Lily cut herself off. She had registered a distinct lack of random Bat Bogey Hexes popping up around James and Sirius' enemies recently. She frowned, unwilling to reconcile this apparent turn toward beneficence with her knowledge of James' immaturity.

Her curiosity got the better of her. "Do you know why?" she asked.

He sighed and set his quill down again. "Honestly, I think they got a bit of a reality-check last year." He grinned slyly. "Some of that is thanks to you," he said pointedly.

"Me?" Lily was incredulous.

"Er, yeah, I mean, you really raked Pron- James over the coals last year after OWLs. I think he took it to heart."

She scoffed. "Unlikely. And even if he did have a miraculous personality shift over the summer, what about Sirius? He hates Slytherins even more than Potter does. What's stopping him hexing them into oblivion for a laugh?"

Remus' mouth twisted uncomfortably. "Sirius…" he began, faltering. "Sirius had a rough year last year. I suppose you know he was disinherited when he left home."

"I heard something about it." Lily admitted cautiously.

"Well, it took a toll, even if he pretended it didn't. He…" Remus paused again, apparently searching for the right words. "Sirius… made some mistakes. It took a while, but I think the reality of those sunk in too."

"So now, what, they're reformed? Perfect little angels?" Lily struggled to keep her voice bitter, as she subconsciously realized that her little ice wall of fury and exasperation toward the boys was melting.

"Nah," Remus grinned, ruffling his hair. "They're still the Marauders, through and through. I just think…" He grew more solemn. "With the war and everything, I think we're all being forced to grow up a little bit. James and Sirius…have a lot of growing up to do, but they're trying."

Lily had only just begun to ruminate on this when she heard the seven gongs of the clock. "Oh Merlin, Remus I'm so sorry- I completely forgot about Slug Club."

He smiled softly and helped her as she whirled about, packing everything haphazardly into her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

"Don't stay up too late working on that essay," he said, echoing the concerned tone she often took with him.

She chuckled. "Understood, mother." Filled with a sudden rush of affection for the haggard-looking boy, she leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek, then stepped back, surprised at her own actions.

"What was that for?" He asked incredulously, a bashful blush spreading over his cheeks.

She smiled. "Nothing. Thanks, Remus. You've… you've been a big help." And with that, she spun on her heel and jogged out of the library, the heels of her Mary Janes clicking softly against the worn stone floor.