A/N: At least it wasn't a three month wait? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this! I'm definitely very excited to see your reaction to this chapter HA! Happy reading and I'll (hopefully) check back soon x
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not that any of you thought I did.
Chapter Eleven
Or
Lump In My Throat
January brought with it some of the coldest weather Lily had ever seen, with exceedingly thick blankets of snow and downright Arctic wind.
This particular Saturday—and according to McGonagall, for the next few Saturdays to come—instead of being curled up in bed, like she would have much preferred, Lily was holed up in the school library.
She had Susan Adams for company and, while under normal circumstances that wouldn't be a problem, in light of recent developments, things had become extremely awkward. At least, they had for Lily.
Her teeth were chattering but she was also sweating, and it was all very uncomfortable.
Thankfully, Susan remained blissfully oblivious. Otherwise things would have been undoubtedly much more agonizing.
"I just… I don't understand them. How am I supposed to charm something without saying the spell? Is my wand supposed to guess what I want, or what?"
Lily leaned back in her chair, lost in deep thought. She tried perusing her mountain of notes, flipping through the pages in her brain until she found an adequate explanation.
"It's sort of like Transfiguration," she started, "in the sense that it requires loads of concentration. Usually I can do charms without even thinking, but these gave me a little bit of trouble in the beginning, too. They're different from verbal spells, and so you have to go into it with a completely different mind-set. You have to focus really hard because, since you're not actually saying the spell, you've got to tell your wand what you want in another way, you know?"
Susan nodded in understanding. "That does make sense. Couldn't Professor Flitwick have told us that?"
"Probably," Lily shrugged. "But I guess it must be a sore spot for him, with it being so similar to a different class, you know?"
Susan smiled and turned to look Lily in the eye.
"I'm just so glad it's you, Lily. I don't know what I would have done if it had been Sirius." She widened her eyes and shook her head. "Don't get me wrong, he's—he's brilliant when it comes to this stuff, I just don't think he likes me that much."
"Oh, Susan, I… um, I highly doubt that's the case…" Lily replied, fixing her gaze on the desk and trying to avoid the subject at all costs because, truthfully, it wasn't really something she found… enjoyable to talk about.
"Why is he never around when I'm with James, then?" Susan continued, completely unaware of the awkward tension that had settled into Lily's shoulders.
"Well," she babbled on, her cheeks becoming dangerously close to her hair in colour, "you, you know Sirius. He's never been keen on sharing, has he?"
"Ha," replied Susan, throwing her head back in laughter. "You have a point there."
"I usually do, yes."
Susan sent a pearly white smile Lily's way and, once the former had turned her attention back to the Charms textbook, Lily was finally able to let go of the breath she'd been holding in.
It just proved Lily's point, really; the issue wasn't that she didn't like Susan. It was that she did like her, and it made fancying James Potter all the more annoying.
(Slytherin versus Hufflepuff)
Marlene was hot—sweating like hell. Hogwarts should really have invested in some Muggle air conditioning. Though it was January and it was snowing outside, so perhaps it was just her, and she should pay a visit to Madam Pomfrey. Mary had already been last week, actually.
Or maybe it was just her girlfriend, clad from head to toe in emerald green robes, with a broomstick between her legs (the irony of it all wasn't lost on her).
It was Slytherin versus Hufflepuff and Marlene felt like a traitor. If Hufflepuff won, it would definitely help Gryffindor's chances at winning the cup, but her girlfriend of six whole weeks –had it really only been that long?– was playing for the opposite team. Was it terrible that she was hoping for a tie?
Spirits were running high, Bertha Jorkins was positioned as commentator, and Marlene soon found herself caught up in all the nail-biting and profanity-shouting. In the end, however, Regulus Black was the one who caught the Snitch, and quite early on in the game too.
Sirius looked as though he'd seen a ghost and Marlene could swear she'd seen tears in James' eyes. Slytherin and Gryffindor were now tied when it came to the cup but, if it meant Marlene would see Lucinda smiling like that again, she'd gladly take the loss.
Soon after the final whistle blew, and when she was certain that everyone else had already left, Marlene sneaked her way into the Slytherin locker room. When she got there, she was met with open arms and an even broader smile.
At the sight of her girlfriend, her lips started to stretch into a grin to match before they found themselves locked with Lucinda's. As soon as she tangled her fingers through her girlfriend's platinum hair, Marlene muttered, "Merlin, I've missed you."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh," Marlene sighed into Lucinda's mouth. "We went over to James' for New Year's Eve and I was totally bitter. Damn unfair, it was. Everyone cuddled up with each other while my girlfriend was back in Scotland."
"Everyone?"
"Just James and Susan, but still," Marlene explained, growing increasingly frustrated with her girlfriend's damn shirt that just would not. come. off.
Sensing that Marlene was struggling, Lucinda swiftly removed the silky blouse herself, throwing her head back in laughter.
"Fucking finally."
Marlene's trail of kisses made their way down to Lucinda's collarbone, until the former noticed the nasty bruise that was mottling the entirety of Lucinda's left shoulder blade purple.
"Merlin's left tit, what is that?"
"What?"
"That… gash!"
"Oh," replied Lucinda, quickly pulling her collar back over it. "That's nothing."
Marlene scoffed. "That's not nothing. Let me see," she added, reaching for Lucinda's arm, who flinched under her touch.
"It's fine!"
Marlene took a step back. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked in a quiet voice.
"It's nothing, Marlene. Please drop it."
"Alright," she replied, unhappy but keen to avoid a massive fight. Marlene sighed. "You'd tell me if there was something going on though, right?"
"Of course, dear," Lucinda replied in a honeyed voice, unable to meet Marlene's eye.
The latter nodded in response, ashamed that she couldn't find it in her to believe her girlfriend. "Actually, I should get going. I have homework."
"Oh. Okay."
Marlene coughed a little and, after one more nod and a peck on the cheek, she left.
It was dark inside the Owlery and, even though Bertha was swaddled in at least four jumpers, Lucinda was not. She was already in a crappy mood and, to be perfectly honest, the cold wasn't helping. She only hoped Bertha didn't notice.
Except, of course she did.
"What's got your wand in a knot?"
At first, she didn't reply; it was only after Bertha quirked one of her bushy eyebrows at her and asked, "Well?" that she mustered a response together.
"She saw it, Bertha."
Bertha didn't have to ask what it was.
"Oh," she replied, getting uncharacteristically quiet. "What happened?"
"I told her it was nothing," replied Lucinda, pulling at her green tie. "Then she started pushing, so I snapped at her, and then she left. Everyone always fucking leaves."
Bertha sighed.
She sat down on the granite steps next to Lucinda and, wrapping one dark-skinned arm around her shoulders, she said, "Look… You know I don't exactly like her. I don't like any of them. I think they're loud and unnecessarily obnoxious.
"But you clearly do, you do like her, and so you've got to decide if she's worth all the trouble because, if she is, then you've really got to tell her. If you want a shot at this working out, you have to trust her. Besides, I know she can take it. Have you forgotten who her best friend is?"
"That was tactless, Berth," replied Lucinda, at which Bertha merely shrugged and continued about fixing her ponytail. "But you're right."
"I usually am, yes. And you can't let him control your life, love. He can't hurt you anymore."
(Gryffindor versus Gryffindor)
Sometimes, Lily wished she wasn't a Muggle-born. Maybe then she wouldn't have this insatiable need to prove herself, to prove that, yes, she did deserve to be at Hogwarts just as much as every classist, racist pureblood that she'd ever encountered did. Maybe then she wouldn't be practically asleep in the common room, her head buried in piles and piles of Ancient Runes notes.
It was after midnight when she noticed the Marauders coming through the Fat Lady portrait. Maybe if she turned her back and scooted to just the right place, they wouldn't see her. It's not like she'd been avoiding Potter ever since they had returned from the holidays. If she left the room every time he came in, then that was just a coincidence.
"Evans?" Of fucking course.
"Good evening, gentlemen," she answered, trying—and quite possibly failing—to exude an air of confidence and nonchalance.
"What are you doing up?" Remus asked, taking a look at James' wristwatch. "It's late."
"I could ask you the same question," she replied, not looking up from her stack of parchment.
"Kitchens," Sirius deadpanned, shrugging his shoulders. "You?"
Shifting a wad of Ancient Runes notes, Lily said, "Homework. Professor Hurst really laid it on thick this time."
If only they'd just go away.
Peter coughed. "We're going to go up, is that all right, Prongs?"
"Yeah, you go ahead."
Sirius nodded and the rest of the Marauders tiptoed their way up to the Sixth Year boy's dormitory after him.
"It's okay, Potter, you don't have to—"
"Are you avoiding me?" he asked and his voice sounded so small that Lily felt compelled to catch his eye.
"No!"
"Why are you avoiding me?" he pressed on, hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers. Feeling like a complete fool, Lily couldn't help but notice how fine he looked, with his tie loose around his neck and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.
"I'm not. I swear." After making room on the sofa, Lily added, "Knock yourself out, I guess."
"Thanks," Potter replied, sitting down.
And so the undeniably familiar feeling of guilt came back to her, trickling its way down Lily's throat and settling uncomfortably in her stomach. The truth was she had been avoiding him because, even though she hadn't done anything wrong, Lily couldn't help but feel like some sort of homewrecker. Everything that was going on around them, and the fact that Lily was tutoring Susan—Potter's girlfriend! Oh God, she was tutoring Potter's girlfriend—made her feel like a special kind of evil witch.
"I like Susan," Lily blurted out. Why did she keep sabotaging herself like that? "She's nice."
"I'm glad you approve," replied James, clearly confused by Lily's sudden outburst.
"And she obviously makes you happy, so that's good," nodded Lily, trying to reassure herself of something she hadn't fully figured out yet.
James coughed.
"Yeah. We work together, I guess."
"You're very similar, you know," Lily went on, her voice painfully high-pitched.
"We are?"
"Yeah."
"Interesting." Then, cracking a smile, James added, "I never pegged her for the rebellious type."
"Please," Lily scoffed. "You're not rebellious."
"Of course I am." James looked affronted. "The most rebellious."
"You can go ahead and keep the superlatives," Lily scoffed, though her voice was laced with something like amusement. "And I meant in the sense that… you're both… optimistic. Maybe even when you shouldn't be."
"You're being awfully nice to me," James added, running one hand through his already messy hair.
Lily hummed to herself.
Quietly, she added, "Maybe you should give yourself a little more credit."
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks, Evans."
"Sure. Goodnight, Potter," she finished, getting up from her spot near the fire and nearly sprinting her way up the stairs.
After she was certain James couldn't see her, Lily finally slowed her step and, when she got to the dormitory, she threw herself on her four-poster. Thankfully, the other girls slept like rocks, and Elizabeth, the only one who didn't, was out for the night.
Because, truth be told, things were much worse than Lily had thought.
She was so completely fucked.
Exactly twenty-four hours after Lily's little jog up the stairs, she was sitting with Mary, their legs hanging precariously off the edge of the Astronomy tower.
"I just feel so guilty, all the time. It's repulsive. Like there's a Flobberworm crawling up my oesophagus—"
"That's gross, Lily," Mary chastised, at which the former simply shrugged.
"Still, the sentiment remains. Besides, it's dead unfair how nice she is."
"Oh?" inquired Mary, quirking an eyebrow as she flipped through the newest issue of Witch Weekly.
"Yeah, because, on the one hand, I want her to disappear—figuratively, that is—but on the other, if it happened, that would be a disservice to mankind."
Mary snorted. "You give her too much credit."
"I really don't." Shaking her head, Lily interjected, desperate to change the subject, "Hey, d'you remember Alice Fortescue?"
Mary closed the magazine and placed it between her thighs. "She was Head Girl when we first came to Hogwarts, wasn't she?"
"Yep," said Lily, popping the 'p'. "I heard she's married now."
"To Frank Longbottom?"
"The one and only."
"Oh, they were just the cutest, weren't they?" Mary pondered, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. "I remember writing my mum about the two of them."
"You would, Mary," replied Lily, shaking her head and laughing. "Hey—where did you get that?" she asked, pointing at the magazine.
Mary's eyes lit up. "There's this whole underground thing. Bertha Jorkins is organizing it, you know. Apparently she sneaks to the village once a week to get some copies."
Lily lifted her right hand and released her ponytail. "I think she's been spending a bit too much time with Marlene, that's what I think."
"You might be onto something. Mar and Lucinda are adorable, though."
"They are!" Lily replied, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. "I'm so happy for her. I saw the two of them the other day in the library, you know, when I was with Susan. They looked so cosy."
"They are the sweetest little pair, aren't they?" Mary replied in a subdued voice, staring wistfully at the ceiling.
Upon noticing the subtle change in Mary's tone, Lily placed a hand on her friend's shoulder and asked, "Oh, Mary, I'm sorry, I haven't even asked—how are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Mary answered, even though it came out more as a question.
"It must be hard for you being back here, though," Lily pressed, "with Bertram and everything. I've been so focused on this—this sham of a love triangle that I've hardly been able to think about anything else."
"Oh, honey," Mary started, pressing her back against one of the columns. "It's completely understandable. I can only imagine how you must feel."
"I feel like shit, that's what I feel like." Lily shook her head. "But it doesn't excuse the oversight on my part, Mary! Come on, how have you really been?"
Mary sighed. "It's awful, Lily. He's everywhere."
"You know what?" started Lily. "I reckon we should sneak a bottle of Firewhiskey back into the castle the next time we go down to the village."
"Puh-lease, Lily," Mary replied with a mad glint in her eyes. "That can be arranged much sooner than the next Hogsmeade trip. All we need is a little help from our friends."
And, suddenly, soon had arrived. It was Lily's birthday and, when she returned to her room at the end of the day, there was an extraordinary amount of liquor at the end of her bed – courtesy of Sirius Black, as she would later discover. Bottle after bottle of Firewhiskey, Butterbeer and mead (Lily's personal favourite) stacked on top of her school trunk, and Lily wasn't sure how they'd even managed to smuggle all that alcohol inside the castle.
To be perfectly honest, it hadn't been that great of a day; she'd had to witness James and Susan sucking face for the entirety of lunch, Severus had tried to talk to her after Potions, and there was a Prefect meeting that had held Lily all the way through supper. Lily was hungry, tired, and desperate for a night off.
Needless to say, Sirius' choice of birthday present had been pretty spot on. She couldn't wait to get sloshed.
(The Other Side)
James had been looking for her the whole day. Lily, that is. To wish her a happy birthday one more time, to apologize for what had happened in Potions, to ask her what Snape wanted, and see if she was okay.
Unfortunately, she was nowhere to be seen and neither were her friends. Remus had asked around and yet neither of the remaining Gryffindor sixth year girls had seen her or heard from her.
His window of opportunity was closing and James was going mad. Sirius apparently had noticed this—bless him—and lent him the map. "Don't fuck things up."
He didn't know why he felt so desperate. The answer was right in front of him—James could feel it—but he couldn't see it and it was driving him fucking insane.
Suddenly, he was running, through corridor after corridor, seeking out her emerald eyes. It didn't exactly feel right but it didn't feel wrong either and—oh Merlin, he couldn't even bear to think about his girlfriend. His lovely, sweet girlfriend who deserved better than this.
Then, just as he was revolving around the Gregory the Smarmy statue, he felt someone knock into him. When he noticed all the red hair, his whole mind filled with a single word, resounding in his brain over and over again. Lily, Lily, Lily.
"Happy birthday," he blurted out, his mouth slightly open.
Lily's expression matched his perfectly.
"You've said that already." Both Mary and Marlene looked like they were about to burst out laughing at any given moment.
Coughing, James replied, "Well. Yeah—yes."
And then he took a proper look at Lily, and her hair seemed brighter under the dim corridor lighting, and her eyes were wider than he'd ever seen them. James looked at Lily, and saw her flushed cheeks and her soft skin and he wondered if that—that moment—was as intense for her as it was for him.
James saw her. And he made a decision.
Because there wasn't anything inherently wrong with Susan Adams. Susan was a lovely girl. She was pretty, in a conventional sort of way. She was sweet and, most importantly, the type of girl other people called sweet. Susan always stopped to chat with first years and help them find their way to class. She was extremely creative and understanding, which most teenagers were not. In fact, were it not for her shy nature and poor leadership skills, she'd have made a fair Prefect. She was polite. Ethical. Susan Adams was the sort of girl you took home to your parents, she was nice. She was nice and it had been fun.
Turns out, James was not interested in nice. There wasn't anything wrong with her, no. But James was looking for something else entirely.
And he was tired of trying to ignore it, because he never could, not fully. And the three of them all deserved better than this.
Tomorrow, James thought, tomorrow, he was breaking up with Susan.
A/N: There you go! Things are finally starting to happen. Or are they?
Let me know what you thought in the review box down below, or in case you prefer, I am also on tumblr at gxldentrio. x
