Dinner Guests 2
Chapter 3: Hello Again
The chapter title, as creative and lovely as it undoubtedly is, should give you a fairly humungous idea of what's going to happen now:D This chapter was helped along considerably by the song Stupid Cupid by Mandy Moore. It's such a cute song, and works so well for Ms. Evans. :D Just remember that I do not own Harry Potter or anything in it; all of this belongs to J. K. Rowling. Thank you, enjoy, and don't forget to give me a review!
I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but the Potter household was not what I had thought it would be.
I couldn't even call it a house; it was more of a mansion than anything else. It was made entirely out of red brick, like most houses were, but the color of it was almost a demure brown rather than the usual orange-brown. Most houses also had obvious shapes of bricks and cement visible, but this house did not; the lines were hidden almost flawlessly. There was a main house, which had an enormous stained-glass window above the door which gave a distorted view into the building. Attached to either side were two smaller, but still enormous structures – I could see a giant swimming pool in one, and what looked like a simulation of a Quidditch field in the other. My mouth had inadvertently been hanging open as I took all of this in; I closed it at once, but I continued to gawk at the place like a brain-dead moron. This was where James Potter lived!
My mother was in as much awe as I was; she whispered to me, "What a house! I've never seen such a house like this around here before."
Even Petunia was impressed. "Maybe I like freaks a little bit more now," she remarked, looking around the property. "Their house is gorgeous."
"Let's ring the bell, shall we?" Mum said, walking up the path to the door with Petunia and me. We rang the doorbell and waited for them to answer it.
After a few minutes, James opened the door and smiled at me, making the flutters return to my chest. "Welcome," he said graciously, allowing us to walk in. I noticed that he was looking predominantly at me as he led the three of us in; that wasn't very good for my already-tightened stomach.
"Mum! Dad! They're here," he called out. He turned back us then, and smiled at Petunia and Mum. "You look lovely tonight, Mrs. Evans," he said politely. "Same to you, Petunia."
"Thank you," Mum said in her fluffiest voice, making me groan inwardly. Petunia gave him a sort of nod, but didn't respond to his compliment. This certainly did amuse him, but he turned back to me, his smile warmer than before.
"You look beautiful," he said, his tone sincere.
I blushed, and he gave a low chuckle. "You would be surprised how pink you just turned; I like it though."
I didn't have a response for this, but I was saved the agony of coming up with one by the appearance of Mr. and Mrs. Potter.
"Lily, Michelle, and Petunia!" Mrs. Potter came forward to hug each of us in turn, and beamed at us. "How nice it is to see you all again! Come in, come in." She ushered us into her living room, which was also absolutely stunning. It was made of a dark, polished wood, and set very classically. The room was spacious and airy, but still had an intimate sort of feel in it; the furniture was also, again, beyond belief. James caught my expression and grinned.
"You like it?" he asked, though he already knew my answer.
"This is the most magnificent house I've ever been in," I admitted. "I love it."
"Would you like the grand tour?" he inquired.
"Yes, I would," I said. "Petunia, would you like to see the house as well?"
"No," she said resolutely. "I'm going to stay here."
"All right, all right; calm down - it was just a simple question." I shrugged and let James take me to the kitchen to start the little tour.
Déjà vu again; this was just like when I had taken James around my own house. I wanted to look at everything because I had never actually looked closely at a wizard's house before; they had all sorts of knick knacks that intrigued me. I was grateful that James wasn't as rude to me as I had been to him; I sort of felt guilty about that now. He was so hospitable, and answered all my questions without even sighing at the stupidity of them. I found myself liking him a little bit for it. But only a little bit.
When we got to his room, it was exactly what I would have imagined it to be; another large room with an unmade bed, Quidditch posters all over the walls, and dirty clothes scattered everywhere. In a way, it looked a lot like my room when I didn't bother cleaning it; I could see he wasn't worried about me seeing his environment this way. I walked in and began fingering all the posters, fighting back the impulse to laugh. He was such a jock.
I couldn't believe it! He had a picture wall too! I went over to it and began to look at the pictures he had up. Most of them consisted of Sirius, Remus, Peter, and him doing various activities together or just messing around like they always did. Some featured James and his smug-looking girlfriends going out and having fun. A few had to have been taken by Mrs. Potter, because they were stiff-looking shots of James about to go to parties with assorted young ladies. I laughed out loud when I saw one with Sirius force-feeding him insects.
"When was this?" I asked, pointing to it.
James looked at it and began to laugh as well. "It was last summer; my friends and I went to the lake. Sirius dared me to do it, and Peter wanted a picture."
"What about this one?" I pointed to one where James was sitting on top of Sirius and pounding his head.
"You don't want to know," he said, grinning. "Remus likes having his camera around because we're always doing crazy stuff like that."
I smiled at him and went back to the picture wall; there were numerous other pictures I wanted to question him about. "What were you doing there?" There was one picture of him ballroom dancing with a blonde-haired girl, and it felt necessary to know why it was there.
"That was a girl I used to know, Melanie," he clarified. "She was my childhood friend since I was three; I haven't seen her in three years. This was when I last saw her; our mothers thought it would be cute to get us to dance and have photographic evidence of it."
"Did you like her?" I asked. Obviously he did, if he was looking at her the way he was, but he knew what I was really after.
"Well, when I saw her three years ago, I thought I loved her," he said. "But when she left, I realized that she would never be more to me than a friend; so yes, I did like her, but no, I did not love her."
I nodded, instantly feeling better, and I went to explore the rest of his room. On his desk (which was cluttered with goodness knows what), I discovered a few more pictures, but one of them startled me. It was…me; he had taken a photograph of me and framed it, something he hadn't done for any other picture. It was a candid shot of me laughing at something, and I felt that flutter in my chest again as I showed it to him.
"You framed a picture of me laughing?" I couldn't sound hurt; I was flattered.
"Yeah," he said, a pink starting to creep onto his cheeks. "I had my camera and it was the perfect moment; I really liked the picture."
"Really?" I knew I was blushing too, but I couldn't believe what I was seeing; no one had ever taken a picture of me without my knowing it, and though it was an invasion of privacy, it was all right when James did it.
"Really," he said, smiling. "I took it a couple of weeks ago."
He didn't say it, but there was a note of finality in that statement; he didn't want to elaborate on it for whatever reason. I got the message and went back to his door; I didn't really want to look at anything else in James's room.
We ventured outside then; James wanted to take me to the two structures I had seen earlier. It was dark out by now, but the air was warm and almost sickly-sweet, making it a pleasure to be out there with him. I hid my pleasure though, and let him open the door to the pool area.
Once there, my jaw dropped for about the fiftieth time that night; there was a vast swimming pool, perfectly placed in the middle of the room, with water that looked like glass. In the corner was a shower area, and in the other corner, there was space to change shoes and clothes. The cleanliness and perfection amounted to more that of a public gym, and I was had a hard time accepting that it all belonged to James. He noticed my delight, and asked, "You like pools, even though you don't swim in them?"
I was surprised; I hadn't expected him to remember that about me. "Well, yes," I said. "It's just so perfect…I couldn't believe that it all belongs to you."
His smile was very understanding. "A lot of people tell me that," he said. "But our neighbors treat it as a public area, which is why it looks the way it does."
So that's why; I had thought there was a reason why it looked like a public gym's swimming pool. "It must be difficult to maintain," I observed.
"Not really," James said. "My parents use magic, making it considerably easier."
I smiled back at him, and that familiar (but horrible) clenching sensation occurred in my stomach again. I couldn't stop staring at him; he looked so heart-achingly adorable in the lighting provided by the pool room. Once again, I was hit by the urge to kiss him; I wanted to kiss him, throw him in the pool, get out, and do it all again. I shut my desires up at once; thinking such things was not allowed. I made myself look away from him, and he cleared his throat.
"Shall we go to the other building then?" he asked.
"I suppose," I told him, looking at the ground rather than at his face again.
James took my hand in his and accompanied me to the other building. I liked the feeling of his hand; it was hardened from constant Quidditch playing, and mine fit nicely into it. It was snug too; I felt quite safe, like nothing would hurt me while he was there.
I shook myself mentally as I realized I was thinking this; it was completely messed up! I couldn't possibly feel that way when he was doing something as simple as holding my hand! What was wrong with me? This wasn't rational, logical, or even possible; I was taking everything far too seriously. James was not in love with me, and I was not in love with him; I was just trying to make myself feel special. Real life was not a storybook; real life didn't work in such a cliché fashion. I had to stop thinking in that mind-set.
I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed that we were at the other building; James had to gently shake me to get my attention. "Lily, are you all right? This is the Quidditch room; I like practicing with my dad in here."
"Sorry?" I looked out into the field of grass, mesmerized by it, but I couldn't really focus on its beauty the way I wanted to. "It's amazing, James," I told him honestly, hoping I didn't sound too vacant or too tired.
"Do you want to take a rest outside?" he asked. "It's probably better for you in the fresh air rather than this recycled stuff."
"Sure." I appreciated his concern, but quite frankly, it didn't matter to me where I was so long as he was there with me.
We went back out into the night, and I sat down on the grass, my breathing shallow. What was wrong with me? Normally I felt like this when I was alone, but now it was all coming to me when James was around. Why was it happening? What was I feeling? Why the hell was I asking myself these types of questions? I felt dizzy and thirsty; I wanted to faint and I didn't even know what the cause of the feeling was. It was sudden…I was feeling really messed up…what had I last eaten today? I think I ate something at breakfast…I was also in love or something…no, no, I wasn't in love…it was something else…something that wasn't love…no…not love…I was thirsty…why was I spinning so much? Why was everything so scratchy? Was I lying down? No, I wasn't tired…what was going on?
"Lily?" His voice was there, but it sounded faraway. He was concerned…he shouldn't be…I was fine…maybe…
"I'm fine," I tried to tell him. "Just give me a minute."
"I'm going to fetch your mother," he assured me. I could hear him leaving. I didn't want him to leave. I tried calling out to him, but everything spun again…this was so weird…what was happening? It was really, really weird, whatever it was…
The last thing I remember was feeling cold hands on my arms, and then there was darkness. Just darkness.
Haha, did I freak you out? Are you wondering where all that came from? Well, good; I just really wanted to surprise you. :D Lily is feeling odd, obviously, and all that jazz will be taken care of in the next chapter. So…with that being said…give me a review and tell me what you thought of my screwed-up ending:D