Chapter 6: Figuring Things Out

I wanted to break this chapter up further, as it's rather long, but unfortunately, I could find no place to stop it; the flow would have been completely screwed up if I tried, which, of course, would be bad. It doesn't matter though; this chapter is filled to the brim with LJ goodness, and is the second to last chapter in this thread. :)

Once in my room, I let go of him and crossed my arms, waiting for him to say something. I was still perilously close to tears, but I tried to keep my glare defiant; I still couldn't bear having him in my sight, no matter what he did, and it was essential that he understood that.

"You probably expect me to apologize," he said after a moment of hostile stillness. "I have though; I have said what I had to say, and I obviously can't really say much more than that."

"You are the most intolerable cockroach that I have ever had the misfortune to be acquainted with," I said bitterly. "No apology on the face of this planet would change that opinion."

James shrugged, but sighed heavily. "I guess I deserve that to a certain extent, but I think you also have the right to know that you're about the only person I would admit something like that to."

"Flattered though I am, I must be firm on throwing you out of my room, since I have nothing else to say to you," I said, my mouth still set angrily and defiantly.

"Fate hates me," he said suddenly, as though I had not just spoken. "It must, if it tries to deprive me of someone like you."

"I just don't understand you!" I burst out, now frustrated out of my mind by his compliment. "I just don't! First of all, you make my school life completely miserable for five years while trying to convince me that you love me. Then, when all that is said and done, you come here with flawless manners, and actually impress me into thinking that you went through a transformation. Not even five minutes after that, you decide to act like a five-year-old with all of our Muggle objects. And, if that's not enough to baffle me, you become eloquent once again at dinner. But to top all this lunacy off, you go and gossip about me to both of our parents while trying to tell us all that you love me! Now you tell me; what am I supposed to think of you?"

"Wow; when you put it like that, I do sound rather contradictory, don't I." He startled me by laughing as he said this.

"And now you've just regained your good humor and have been successful in befuddling me once again," I grumbled.

"I'm sorry, Lil; truly I am," he said, looking back at me. And this time, when he told me that, I trusted him. However, I still had a bit of pride to defend, so I decided not to tell him how I felt.

"For the sake of the three adults downstairs, I suppose I may forgive you," I said with a sigh as I let my guard come down a little. "Your parents are genial, good-hearted people; though how such people produced a moron like you is beyond my field of knowledge. Still, I feel that they want us to be on fair terms with one another, and that is the only reason I am saying something like this."

"The kindness in your soul is blissfully high, O Mighty Lily Evans," James declared as he bent down on one knee. "How may I ever thank you, an angel in all your heavenly perfection, for the sympathy you have bequeathed upon me, a flawed, besotted young peasant?"

I couldn't help but laugh; it was only rational when someone gave you such a question. "Well, 'flawed, besotted young peasant,' you can start by getting up from the ground." He did so, but in the most comical manner I had ever seen. I giggled again before saying, "Now you have to stop confusing me so much. Do you suffer from a multiple personality disorder that I'm not conscious of or something? You are the most bewildering person I have ever met."

"Well, to simplify things for you, let's just say that I have a monstrous crush on you that can never seem to be quenched," he said, his smile as light as ever, but his eyes the most intense they had been for the entire evening.

I could feel my cheeks going red, but I rolled my eyes anyway. "You are completely incongruous."

James shrugged. "Maybe. Probably."

I allowed myself one final chuckle at his matter-of-fact frankness before I took him to the door. "It's time for you to go home," I told him. "I don't think I would be able to handle your presence in my house for another minute, even."

"That's a pity," he said while he exited my room. "I had quite a lot of fun tonight."

"Speak for yourself," I could help but mutter as we went downstairs again.

James laughed. "Admit it; you had fun too. Having me around isn't as bad as you thought it to be."

"No," I agreed. "It was infinitely worse."

He rolled his eyes at me, grinning all the while. "Don't lie about everything, Lily; it's not your talent."

"Are you trying to imply that you think I like you?" The unthinkable thought struck me as soon as the tone of voice had processed in my head; that had to be reason he was saying all of these stupid things.

"I will give you that your talent is deciphering double meanings, however," James said, nodding. "You pick things up extraordinarily well, Miss Evans."

"Well, you are highly erroneous in this matter," I said stoutly, leaning against the front door, still facing him. "I do not like you any more than I did before."

"That's another sign," he said. "I've noticed that throughout my five years of knowing you, your speech has become increasingly articulate."

"It comes with growing up."

"Perhaps with some people, but not with you," he said. "You talk more formally when you're nervous, as I have observed. And, in this particular type of circumstance, the only reason you would be nervous would be if you were afraid of me figuring out how much you like me."

I wanted to smack him across the face; how could he suggest something like that?! I had never liked him the way he was suggesting. I had never even been aware that I liked him at all. Did I like him now? Not really. I mean, he had been fairly charismatic tonight, which had pleasantly surprised me, but I still didn't like him yet. He was still a big-headed baboon, and I told him that. When I did though, he laughed yet again.

"A big-headed baboon?" he asked in the middle of his laughter. "Me? No; it couldn't be."

"It is," I enlightened him. "You are the very definition of the insult."

His grin turned rather impish as he watched at me carefully. "Lily, I want to try something, and I wish that you would permit me to do so."

"What do you want to do?" I thought I knew the answer, but I couldn't be sure.

James put his hand on the side of my face and came forward. He was less than three centimeters away from me, and his lips were terrifyingly close to mine. I had to remember how to breathe; it was nearly impossible to though, when my heart was pumping blood at five times its normal rate. He was hesitating, probably to see how he would be taken, but also because he was tense; I had never let him come this close to me. I didn't even know why he was that close to me in the first place; I suppose I had just been taken by surprise.

He was about to do it; he was really about to kiss me. His lips lingered right in front of mine, but somehow, he couldn't make himself kiss me all the way. I had never known James to be so unsure of himself; normally, he would have just gone ahead and done what he had to do. I was too alarmed to kiss him myself; he would have to be the one to do it if he wanted it. He did, and I could feel it, but there was something that was holding him back that I couldn't make out.

I'd had enough though; he was there, and I wanted that kiss for reasons I couldn't even begin to identify. I didn't know why I wanted James Potter, the king of the parasites, to do something like that, but I did, and I felt the need to trust this desire. That was why I tilted my head to come that last, awkward distance between us, but just before I was about to press my mouth to his, I heard a voice calling us from the drawing room, which was down the hall from the door where we were at.

"Lily, James!" It was Mum; I heard her footsteps come near and then stop dead. I took my hand away from James's just as his dropped to my shoulder, and I took in her thunderstruck expression. I could only imagine what she must be seeing; her sixteen-year-old daughter, just about to kiss a boy she had sworn to hate since she was eleven years old.

"It was nothing," I tried to say, my cheeks turning a vivid red. "I-I can explain everything."

My mother was too petrified to say anything; she could only gibber. She gestured for Mr. and Mrs. Potter to come where she was, and see us, with James's hand still on my shoulder. They came, and Mrs. Potter's face broke into a wide smile similar to the one James wore when he won a Quidditch match.

"Were we interrupting something?" she asked.

"No," I said, trying to regain my no-nonsense conduct once again. "No, James was…was…James, what were you doing?"

"I-I was…well…" he stuttered, now the color of a beetroot.

"No, no, it's all right," Mrs. Potter said eagerly. "Were you about to kiss her, James?"

"I-"

I turned my face away, wanting nothing more than to melt through the ground. Mrs. Potter was looking absolutely enthralled, but it was Mr. Potter who spoke again.

"We were just about to leave, so would you like to tell Lily good-bye?"

I swallowed hard and looked back to James, my eyes boring into his, trying to analyze the emotion in them. There were far too many though, so I just cleared my throat to prompt him into a farewell.

He got the message. "Well, erm, good-bye, Lily," he stammered. "Thank you for an…interesting evening." He walked robotically to my mother and said, "Thank you for having us tonight."

"It was our pleasure, dear," Mum said fondly. Then, to my absolute mortification, she ruffled his hair before giving him a hug; I could have literally melted to the floor at that point. She seemed unaware of my reaction, however; she just screeched for Petunia to come and say good-bye as well. Petunia was apparently painting her nails and could not come; she yelled her good-bye from her room. James's eyes met mine, and I could see he pitied me for having such an appalling sister.

"Thank you so much for coming, Lisa and Brian," Mum said to them merrily, shaking the Potter's hands. "We must do this again some time."

"We should," James agreed in a quiet voice, his gaze falling back on me. I bit my lip, and the red color on my cheeks returned at once, but I did not let my eyes leave his face. He smiled at me and then looked back at my mother.

"We must get a move on, then," Mrs. Potter said. "Thank you once again." She hugged me and said, "Now we must have you over, Lily; James would never forgive me if I didn't invite you."

"Maybe," I said shyly. "It all depends on how much or how little James's ego changes; the conceit of that child is astoundingly high."

James laughed, but couldn't respond, because Mr. Potter opened the door, and Mrs. Potter began to push him out. "You must call us again to arrange something, Michelle!" she shouted back to us as they went down the lawn.

I closed the door with a sigh, and watched them walk together from the window with a variety of sensations taking residence in my stomach.

It had been a very strange night.

I don't know why they expect me to say it so much, because it kills me every single time, but I do not own anything or anyone mentioned in the Harry Potter series; lovely James and lovely Lily are J. K. Rowling's, unfortunately – not mine. Oh yeah, and there is one more chapter; don't forget that:D