Moral Tweezers

Having always been a fairly diligent worker, Lily knew how sweet was success when it was hard-earned. And it really seemed to her as though the loss of her dignity and pride and sanity on several occasions had earned the small —but most definitely sweet —successes that came next.

Third period transfiguration brought the first. It felt like her face had only just returned to its normal colour when she found that her seat assignment for the new topic of human transfiguration was directly in front of James Potter.

This was possibly worse than being behind him, or even —be still my heart —next to him. Oh Lordy, Lily thought miserably, letting her books fall onto the desk as her fellow students filed in. This is terrible. I'm not going to hear anything McGonagall says. She could see it: she'd spend every class stiff in her seat, staring blankly at the blackboard, knowing that all the while he could be happily deciphering her posture, hairdo and neck-moisturising habits and she couldn't do anything about it. I'm going to fail the year, she thought, suddenly alarmed.

The thought was so sudden and alarming that it propelled her out of her chair. To do what, she wasn't sure: ask McGonagall for a different seat? Run to the toilets and stay there for the entire class? Weep and wail at her misfortune? The last one sounded lovely and cathartic, and Lily was seriously contemplating combining options two and three when her mind just stopped.

James Potter was navigating his way towards her.

And she was just standing there. Eyes wide, mouth open, staring at him like he had already attempted human transfiguration with disastrous results. When he looked up from the desks he was scanning for his own name, and met Lily's gaze, he looked startled. It's your face! You must look like Dumbledore just proposed to you. Control your damn facilities, Lily! Sure enough, obviously confused as to what had shocked her, James looked behind him to see what she was staring at. In the few moment that his face was averted, she took a deep breath and composed her features.

After ascertaining that whatever it was that had startled her was gone, James continued onward. As he neared her desk, he slowed. Now his expression was pleasantly neutral.

'Evans,' he said, and ducked his chin in that very boy-type nod. An errant hand strayed upwards to the freshly-washed mop atop his head. Now you can tell when he's washed his hair? Great Merlin. You absolute creeper, Lily Evans. Outside of Lily's mad head, James's eyes were flicking over the labels on the surrounding desks, searching for his own name. She could tell exactly when he found it: his eyes stopped somewhere by her right elbow, and there they stayed for a full five seconds. His face was blank. Then he stood up a little straighter. Still looking down at the name, he said lightly, 'Desk buddies, are we, Evans?'

'Not really,' Lily said, and regretted it the second the words left her mouth. Just say yes, you idiot! Bloody hell. Her fingers were writhing in a terribly awkward way in front of her naval. 'I mean, I think it's more of an… an adjacent… situation… type thing,' she said lamely.

'An adjacent situation type thing?' he said, eyes rising from name tag, a smile now at the corners of his mouth. Then a grimace crossed his face and he laughed – a short, sharp laugh of pained amusement. 'Dear Merlin, not again.'

At the truly strange pronouncement, Lily's anxious fingers stilled on the cover of her transfiguration textbook. 'What?' With fascination she watched the strange mixture of angst and comedy play on his face. 'Not again what?'

James sighed in a half-amused, half-long-suffering fashion. 'You may not have noticed this, Evans, but all of our recent interactions have ended with me questioning whatever mad thing has just come out of your mouth.'

Lily felt a blush creeping across her face. 'Yes,' she said, a tad defensively. 'And note the term "ended", James —Potter. Potter.' She blushed at his raised eyebrows and continued. 'I'm obviously a live mine, so you'd better watch what you say.' The words were part self-mockery and part genuine warning.

'Hence the 'not again' part.' The smile on James's face had become a fully-fledged grin. 'But you're clearly making it hard for me!' He said, laughing. 'What on God's green earth is a live mine?' He planted both hands on the desk behind him and leant back, tilting his head so that he could see her under his glasses while smiling the most rakish smile Lily had ever seen outside a Marlon Brando film.

'We covered World War II: Artillery and Armaments in Muggle Studies two months ago, Potter!' She threw her hands in the air in a helpless gesture made extremely dramatic by exhilaration: I am having a decent —albeit argumentative —conversation with James Potter. 'I'm sure you'd know what a live mine was if you hadn't been charming Peter's nostril hair into curls while he slept.'

Behind his glasses, James's eyes crinkled with amusement. 'Cheeky little charm, that one. You're just jealous you don't have my talent for nose-hairstyling, Evans.'

'No, Potter; it's obviously your oversized brain I envy.' Despite her attempts to tamp it down —they were arguing, after all —an errant snort of laughter escaped her throat when James then pretended that his body was being crushed by the weight of his head and the oversized brain inside it.

'Potter, Evans!'

The sharp accent cut through to the two of them, standing inside a little sparkling bubble of joy and merriment —that's how Lily pictured it to look anyway —inside the dim old transfiguration classroom.

'I've never seen you so entertained in my class.' McGonagall and the rest of the class, now mostly seated and unpacking books and parchment, were watching them. McGonagall had pursed her lips into what Lily's Gran would have called —in between elderly titters at the indecency of the phrase —a 'dog's bottom'.

'Well,' the Professor amended, frowning. 'Maybe that's extending the truth a little far on your part, Mr. Potter, but that's most certainly not a joke of mine you're laughing at. If you could take your seats and turn your attention to the blackboard, I'd be most grateful.'

'Right you are, Professoressa,' James said cheerfully, shooting Lily one last smile as he submitted to McGonagall's order and ducked around to take his seat.

Lily took her own place rather gingerly a few seconds later. She was a strange mixture of fragile and numb. It was a sensation not unlike the one she would imagine a sleepwalker would feel upon being awakened, only without the bit about being scared witless. It was an altogether very positive feeling. That was… wonderful. Of course, it was epicly insignificant in the scheme of things, and the interaction had been predominately an argument, but there hadn't been an ounce of malice there, and to Lily Margaret Evans, it meant everything. Anyway, she was quickly accepting that arguing was… well, what they did. And she wasn't sure that she really had a problem with that. Not when it had felt so… electric.

It was as though a wispy, delicate tendril of something had begun to unfurl towards her from somewhere inside James Potter. It was to be met gently, she knew, and touched sparingly to prevent 'too much, too soon' from breaking it. But it was something, and something enough to keep her buzzing with restless energy for the rest of the day.

The next snippet of giddy success arrived at lunchtime in the rather strange form of Daisy Abbott. And, to be honest, while it started off a giddy success, it left Lily somewhat confused.

She was chatting with Mary, Aldora Finch and Francis Doggart, two seventh years, over a large ham and cheese panini (the Hogwarts house elves were slowly branching out from the standard British fare students had enjoyed for the last few hundred years) when she heard a sound that made her pancreas begin to shrivel: A certain Hufflepuff's soft, sweet voice commenting gently —Lily reckoned that the witch was physically incapable of complaining —on the fact that James and Daisy hadn't been able to sit together at lunch for almost a week.

Boo-bloody-hoo, Lily thought sourly, chomping savagely on her panini and massaging her pancreas, as whatever poor confused Aldora was saying fell suddenly upon deaf ears. Staring darkly at the salt shaker, she trained her ears on the conversation approximately —definitely; she had counted —eight people to her left.

'There's no room left on the bench, Dais,' James was saying in a sorry sort of voice. 'I can get Frank and Marlon to shove over —hey, Frank —'

'No, no —it's fine!' Daisy said hastily. 'Don't worry, Frank.' Ever the perfectly considerate specimen of feminine long-suffering, she silenced James's repeated desire to uproot a goodly portion of the table, and made a suggestion that caused Lily's spine to stiffen. 'There's space over there next to Lily. We could move there?' The question was sweet and hesitant and apologetic and Lily could almost hear the addendum 'if it's not too much trouble…' tacked on the end.

In the next few seconds, as Sirius, a little further along the table, commented wryly that 'He's your boyfriend, Lady Abbott —it's well within your rights to force him to move wherever you want him,' Lily frantically tried to make the contents of her book bag stretch across the excess bench beside her.

To her right, Marlene was saying 'Forgive her sins,' in an apologetic tone to Aldora and Francis, in answer to Lily's suddenly antisocial and erratic behaviour. 'She's in hard-core fancy-town at the moment and it's hitting her like a mild form of epilepsy: she has these sort of conscious black-outs… very fascinating...'

When in her periphery she saw a certain black-haired boy heft himself from his seat, led by a blonde-haired witch, Lily abandoned her book bag, swung around, and said, 'yes, right,' very loudly in response to whatever Francis was saying. Francis was startled, as she had been in the middle of a sentence, but Lily was determined to look preoccupied, and widened her eyes and nodded in a go on type fashion.

'Well —er —' poor Francis said, 'yes, I was saying —'

'Hi, Lily!'

Lily made a show of disengaging herself from what hopefully appeared to be a very gripping conversation, and turned around. Marlene told her later that she looked like one of the grinning clowns she had once seen at a Muggle circus. The aim was to throw balls into their gaping mouths for prizes, but Marlene said she had been too scared to go near them.

'Daisy! Hi!'

She's so pretty, Lily thought miserably, trying to keep the wide smile on her face. Daisy smiled right back in what was probably a much more natural, friendly way. 'Is there anyone sitting there?' Her eyes took in the array of books and quills spread out evenly across the bench. 'Oh, sorry, are you working? We'll find some other —'

'No, no,' Lily said quickly, feeling suddenly guilty. Why does the trampy Potter-stealing witch always have to be so nice about everything? 'I —er —I was just cleaning out my bag. Lunch is the best time for it, I do believe.'

Behind Daisy, James was grinning. 'I don't know; I personally find breakfast the best time for a spot of tidying,' he said.

Heart quickening, Lily replied 'You're one of them, are you?' in mock-disbelief. Next to her, Marlene's jaw dropped. Ignoring her, Lily carried on. 'Disgusting. I should have known.'

'Oh, yes,' he said, nodding gravely. 'Breakfast vittles are very inspiring. They just make me want to get organised. It's the bacon, I think.'

'What rot are you two talking?' Dorcas, who had just sat down next to Aldora, reached over Lily for the pumpkin juice. Marlene was looking between James and Lily as if they were doing something far more inappropriate than engaging in light-hearted lunch-type conversation. Daisy was still smiling, but in a confused kind of way, looking between James and Lily as if she thought she ought to know what they were talking about, but had gotten lost somewhere along the way.

A little prickle of guilt latched onto Lily. It's alright, she suddenly wanted to tell her, I'm not really sure what we're talking about either. The feeling was doing battle with another surge of giddiness inside Lily's head: James Potter was standing not a metre away, laughing with her and not Daisy. A goodly portion of her was dancing a violent conga of celebration, but the prickle of guilt she had trodden on while dancing was impairing mobility. Lily paused the dance and sat down to pick the prickle out, but she had recently cut her nails and the darn thing was eluding removal.

After a moment, gesturing to the now-cleared bench, Daisy said rather awkwardly, 'So… do you mind, then?'

Solution: must get me some tweezers.

Marlene hijacked Lily's journey to Herbology that afternoon.

'Hey, you!'

Lily pretended not to hear, which she acknowledged from the outset was a useless endeavour and a waste of time.

'Hey, Evans! Don't ignore me, you sad idiot.'

Slowly, she turned, surveying Marlene as she struggled down the boggy hillside toward Greenhouse four, in front of which the addressed was standing. She waited until Marlene was next to her before saying, 'Alright, get it over with.'

'Get what over with?' Marlene frowned. 'You've got no idea what I'm going to say.'

'Oh, you're going to say something?' Lily said, feigning surprise. 'I that case, I've got no idea. I thought you were going to attack me in your usual fashion.'

Marlene coughed delicately. 'For the sake of cutting to the quick of the matter and getting to class on time, I'll ignore that blatantly insulting assumption. What I want to know —'

'Hey!' Lily started hotly, 'stop turning my journey to hardcore fancy-town —thank you for telling Aldora and Francis about that, by the way —into your personal quest for knowledge!' She snorted. '"What I want to know," my arse.'

Marlene sighed. 'All right. I'm sorry.'

Lily nodded, slightly mollified.

'What I want to know, please —' the brunette gave her friend a look that said clearly that that was as good as she was getting ' —is what in Merlin's name happened at lunch time.'

It was Lily's turn to sigh. She stared disconsolately at a miserable tuft of weedy grass poking through the mesh mat on the doorstep of the greenhouse. 'Which part exactly?' She nudged the grass with the tip of her shoe. 'I thought the whole thing was… rather positive.'

'Yes,' Marlene said, huffing the word as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'That's my issue. He said something that normally you'd find inflammatory —obviously it wouldn't be classed as inflammatory for any other normal human being —' Lily rolled her eyes ' —and your response was practically jocular. You responded to James Potter with jocularity.'

Lily didn't say anything. Marlene went on. 'And it looked quite natural! I watched the whole time and I don't think I saw you once battle the harpy within! You didn't look like you were repressing the urge to bite him once. That was a genuine, if mad —' Marlene frowned ' —conversation.' She pretended to choke back tears for a moment, but then said quite seriously, 'I think you might have grown up a bit, Lil. '

Lily was surprised. She was quiet for a few seconds. Then she asked tentatively, 'what does that mean?' She picked at a bit of pilling on her jumper. 'In the context of… well… the whole business?'

Marlene exhaled, hands on hips. 'I don't know. Mayhap that I think it means you've got a clear shot of the target. Nearly.' She frowned. 'There is the slight problem of —'

'Daisy.' Lily exhaled loudly. 'Yes.' There was a desolate silence between the girls. Lily stared up at the castle. Marlene stared at Lily.

At this point Professor Wendover arrived, gardening shears in hand, spouting vitriol at a few nameless junkies who had broken into Greenhouse one and broken the heads off his delirium daisies. The rest of the class, who had arrived in dribs and drabs as Marlene and Daisy were speaking, trailed in behind him. The two witches hung behind. Marlene had Defence Against the Dark Arts and Professor Sturridge ran an oppressively tight ship, but she was making no move to move along.

Both girls were still and quiet for what seemed an age.

'Damn it.'

Lily broke the silence. She leant against the greenhouse. It was as if the prickle of guilt had become infected. During Charms, the wound had begun to fester, and by the time she had set off for Herbology the infection had gotten into the bloodstream. She kept seeing Daisy's confused, hesitant face as her boyfriend and his sworn enemy got on famously and she couldn't seem to catch onto the jokes.

'If only she was a total bitch, eh?' Marlene said in quiet sympathy. Lily nodded mutely. Somehow, Marlene understood.

'But you haven't actually done anything, have you?' the witch said in a bolstering manner. 'You've got nothing to be guilty for, other than a few murderous thoughts and you can't really help that, because you're mentally unstable.'

'Yeah,' Lily admitted, 'but the ultimate plan is to have her deposed.' She groaned and closed her eyes. 'She's just so nice.'

She gripped the Encyclopedia of Remedial Herbs to her chest. 'I hadn't thought about it before today,' she said slowly, 'but I don't think —I don't think I could fully be with James after I'd ruined his last relationship. That's not… I wouldn't…' She sighed in frustration, letting the sentence fall. Daisy's face appeared in her mind again; sweet and trusting. 'How could I be really happy if I really hurt someone in order to get at him?'

There was more silence. Both Marlene and Lily needed to absorb what had just been said. After a moment, Marlene put her hand on Lily's arm in a surprisingly comforting gesture.

'It's real shitty having morals, isn't it?'

Lily gave a mournful snort of laughter. After a moment, her friend said quietly, 'What are you going to do, then?'

The redhead squinted up at the sun for a few seconds. Closing her eyes, she focused on the brilliant points of light that hung suspended in the darkness under her eyelids. 'I have no idea.'