A/N: Here's chapter four. I had a good time writing it, since several clues (some noticeable and some not) are in this one. Plus, the votes are finally going to be counted in this one! Also, sorry this one is so short, but I thought it was a good stopping point. I'd like to take a minute to thank my reviewers, especially DarkRose369 and Sprut, who have reviewed since the beginning. You guys are awesome!! You all get a cookie. ;) Enjoy chapter four! - Chrissa
Disclaimer: I did not, nor have I ever, said that I owned the wonderful world of Hogwarts. I just borrow the Marauders and their associates from time to time (Lol, it's about time I put one of these in here).
James's messages are in bold, while Lily's are in italics.
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Gravity
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"Lily, you froze. Why?" I stared into my goblet. "You're hiding something. What is it?"
"What are you? A reporter?" I questioned innocently. She rolled her eyes and stared across the room for a moment.
"Is there something you want to tell me?" She glared at me. "Something that might explain why you've gone insane?"
This wasn't fair. She was only making it worse on me. Two can play this game. "Tell me what you're hiding in that little book in the library. Maybe then I'll tell you what I'm hiding."
She closed her eyes and sighed; I could tell she was willing away her anger. "Just tell me what's going on with you. Please. We're both going crazy because of something in your head, but you have an advantage because you know what it is. Inform me." Seconds ticked by. "Well?" We looked each other in the eyes. I caved.
"Gravity," I muttered, letting defeat settle over me like a heavy blanket. I put my face in my heads, feeling her confused stare fill up my already overflowing embarrassment container. "Could we talk about this somewhere else?"
She shook her head in disbelief. "Yes, but later. You have to go count pumpkins or something with Potter."
"Votes," I grumbled miserably.
"Yeah, those," she said exasperatedly. "I'll see you later." She drained the last of her tea and walked away. I sighed. Abandonment was so easy these days.
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"Only one hundred and thirty eight for This Moment," Potter said from his position by the fire. "How many did you get for Tropical?" I pulled my legs closer to my chest, glancing at the pile of votes beside me.
"One hundred thirteen," I said, trying hard to blend in with the sofa.
"So This Moment is in the lead," he said brightly, rolling onto his back. Tug. "Would you like me to count the votes for Masquerade?" I nodded and he Summoned them.
"Evans?" he said after a moment, still tossing aside the votes one by one. "Can I ask a question?"
I shrugged. "Might as well."
"Are you avoiding me?"
I blinked as a panic set in. "Shouldn't you concentrate on counting?"
He smiled a little. "I can multitask." He glanced at me expectantly. Tug.
"No," I answered hastily, "I don't know why you'd ask that."
He laughed. "Well, you've disappeared on me about three times this weekend without proper explanation, and Sirius may have pointed out the lack of visual contact your scrolls have presented."
I snorted. "Don't you mean you brought it up?"
"No," he said nonchalantly, ignoring my jab. "Sirius tends to notice little things like that."
"Like what?"
He laughed again. "I also think you're ignoring the question."
It got very quiet. All I heard was the whisper of paper on paper as he counted and the restless flicker of the dying fire.
"One hundred and forty nine for Masquerade," he sighed, sitting up. "Looks like we're planning a costume party." The quiet resumed.
"Hold on a minute," he said almost to himself. He went into his bedroom and shut the door. A minute passed, and my pocket hummed. Cautiously, I retrieved my scroll and unrolled it.
Is this way just easier? Do you still dislike me enough that you don't want to see my face?
I felt a twinge of guilt out of nowhere, but quickly filed it away in my brain. I searched for an answer.
I don't dislike you, Potter. I'm just uncomfortable with our history.
A few minutes went by before he replied.
I'm sorry you feel that way, but does that mean you're okay with me as a person?
Well, since you've deflated your head, I suppose I'm okay with you.
I heard a laugh through his door. Tug. Involuntarily, I smiled.
Ha ha. But I am sorry, you know. About our less-than-perfect history.
I know, Potter. I'm sorry, too.
Awhile later, as I was about to head to the library to finish my homework, he sent another message.
Could we start over?
I don't know if I could.
I'll go first then. Hello, I'm James Potter, and it's a pleasure to meet you.
His bedroom door opened. Leaning against the door frame, he stuck out his hand.
It hung there for an instance, an invitation of friendship. A lighthearted smirk was attached to his lips. It sent shockwaves down my spine.
For some unknown reason, I reached for his hand. With it clasped warm within mine, I shook it and grinned. "Lily Evans, and the pleasure is all mine."
I'd never seen a wider smile.
----------OoOoO----------
Now that I had the tug permanently attached to my heart (along with a new ache that I couldn't quite place), I set out to find Natalie with determination. We needed to talk, about everything.
I checked the library first, searching the shelves for Natalie or someone who may have seen her. When I passed her usual table, I was once again reminded of her secret paper. Curiosity invaded my brain, but who was I to deny a distraction?
Replaying the scene in my head, I scanned the bookcase across the way for a thinner, bluish-green book. I spotted it on a higher shelf and groaned; there was no way I could reach it.
Unless...
Grinning, I pulled a chair up to the bookcase and used it as a step ladder. With the added two-and-a-half feet to my height, I could reach the book easily. I smiled again.
I yanked on the spine. Nothing budged. I pulled again to no avail. The book's title finally caught my eye. Getting What You Want: The Theory and Art Behind Summoning Charms. "You've got to be kidding me," I muttered in disbelief, grabbing at the book again for another try.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?"
I screeched and fell off the chair, bringing the book and three others with me. Something made contact with my head and I screeched again. Footsteps rushed towards me.
"Lily? Are you all right?" Remus asked as he peered over me.
I sat up and my head spun, making me wince painfully. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It was only a few feet."
"Really? Are you sure? After that just fell on your head?" He pointed towards one of the larger books that had fallen. My head throbbed.
"Just let me see the book," I muttered.
"Which one?"
"That one!" I gestured vaguely at Getting What You Want and he grabbed it.
"Lily," he said in confusion, "This is on Summoning Charms. You're a seventh year, the Head Girl, and a brilliant Charms student. When did you master this spell? Third, fourth year? You don't need this book." I stood up and watched him leaf through the pages hastily, his eyes brightening as he reach the middle.
"But-"
"WHY ARE THESE BOOKS ON THE FLOOR?" Madam Pince shrieked, her young face contorted in rage as she rounded the corner. He leapt to her side.
"Madam Pince! How are you this lovely Sunday afternoon?" he asked, turning on some sort of Marauder-bred charm. "I was just about to help this poor, misguided girl leave before she violated any more of your precious texts." I glared at his back.
Her face softened but only slightly. "She can find her own way out, Mr. Lupin." She magicked the fallen books back onto the shelf. "Both of you, get out of my sight." She spun on her heel and stalked off.
"You better go," Remus said when she was gone.
"But I need-"
"Need what? A detention? Just get out of here." I opened my mouth to protest and he sighed. "Look, you can always come back. You are Head Girl."
I glanced at the book, now back on it's high shelf. "Yeah... I suppose."
"Good," he said, slightly relieved. "Make sure to get something on that bruise."
I huffed and started to walk away, silently plotting revenge. But when I turned around to tell him he should leave, revenge plans seemed to disappear. This time he was on the chair, and he was taking my book off the shelf. He opened it once again to the middle and pulled out a folded parchment. I scowled; how did he know about the paper? A hand fell to my shoulder.
"What did I tell you two?! GET OUT OF MY LIBRARY!"