The Trouble With Lifts

Summary: "I should have known that a magical lift was a sign of trouble. And here I thought that an inanimate object couldn't pose a threat to my sanity - which was a ridiculous assumption. Obviously."

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, sadly. Everything Harry Potter is JK Rowling's, and the song lyrics are properly accredited to their creators. Wait, I guess I own the sketchy plot. Huzzah!

A/N: I apologize in advance for this chapter being shorter than the last few. I'm hitting a bit of a creative wall and I fear that it's showing. Forgive me, and hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter anyways!

Chapter Four: Bulletproof

"Been there, done that, messed around. I'm having fun - don't put me down!

I'll never let you sweep me off my feet!

This time, baby, I'll be bullet proof."

Bulletproof by La Roux

I woke up to the feeling of having a troll dancing on my brain while wearing very heavy clogs. It's not a feeling I'm fond of, just to be clear. I groaned, clutching at my skull to try and stop the pounding as I rolled over. Dried drool was stuck to my face and my pillow. I had a crick in my neck from sleeping on my stomach. My insides felt like they were full of sand. I lurched to my feet, the room spinning, and fell back again.

I stared at my ceiling, trying to remember how to breathe and keep my heart beating at the same time. It all seemed extraordinarily complicated. I groaned, shutting my eyes against the too bright light and resting a clammy hand on my forehead.

"Bloody Merlin," I muttered. "I am never drinking again."

"Aw, don't say that, Lily-bo-billy!"

The half strangled cry of surprise that left my lips made Chelsea laugh. She stood, rising from the chair where she'd been sitting all along and leaned over, peering at me with curious blue eyes.

"Someone have a bit too much good cheer last night?" she asked, smiling wickedly.

I frowned at her, struggling to bring her face into sharper focus. "What have you heard?"

"Nothing much," she admitted with a shrug. "No one remembers anything too clearly since O'Leary spiked the pumpkin juice pretty early on in the night." She paused, watching me as I curled into a ball on the bed.

"What happened last night, Lily?" she asked, her voice much too sickly sweet to be purely inquisitive.

"Nothing," I muttered, my face buried in my duvet. She sank onto the bed next to me, sticking her face close to mine.

"Liar," she smiled. "Dirty, rotten liar."

"Can't prove it," I argued, still refusing to look at her. She laughed. "We'll see. Did I forget to mention that Remus wasn't drinking last night? And he's got a wickedly watchful eye, you know. Sees everything. Perhaps I'll just pop over and-"

"No!" I shouted, sitting up abruptly. A moment later I slammed my eyes shut and clutched my head with a groan.

"Hm, interesting," Chelsea murmured, grinning. "So there is something."

"Yes, alright," I sighed. "There's something."

"Excellent," Chelsea said, satisfied. She crossed her legs and faced me fully. "Out with it, then! Spit spot!"

I sighed, and detailed as much as I could remember from the night before. The whole snogging debate, and then the debauchery in the lift were the central parts, although a lot of it was exceedingly fuzzy and hard to remember. She giggled mercilessly through the entire thing, grinning from ear to ear.

"I ought to get you three sheets to the wind more often, Lily, dearest. You're dead fun when inebriated."

"Thanks," I muttered darkly. "That's what every girl loves to hear. 'You're a right swat most of the time,' " I mimicked in a squeaky falsetto, " 'but you're wicked fun when you're pounding back firewhisky!' "

Chelsea rolled her eyes and patted me on the head. "You know I love you, dearest, both sober and drunk."

"I'm not sure if I like you at all."

"Hardy-har-har," she said, nudging me with her shoulder. "Don't be a prat."

I stuck out my tongue at her and she laughed.

"So," she said after a moment. "What are you going to do?"

"About what?" I rubbed at my eyes, trying to clear the last bits of sleep away.

"About James, you daft cow," she sighed, exasperated.

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. I'm still working on simultaneously thinking and breathing."

She rolled her eyes before she dug out her wand from her pocket and conjured a small tea cup. She handed it to me. "Here, drink this."

I took the cup, staring dubiously at the sludge inside. "It looks horrid."

"It is horrid," she said, "but it'll make you feel human again."

I made a face, sniffing the cup. "Maybe I don't want to feel human again."

"Stop being such a tosser and just drink it," she ordered. I sighed and swallowed the contents in one gulp. It tasted like moldy socks and turpentine. I gagged, coughing and spluttering.

"Pansy," she muttered, taking the cup from me and vanishing it. "Feel better?"

Surprisingly, I did. My head no longer felt two sizes too small for my brain, and it got much easier to think in straight lines.

"What was that?" I asked. She shrugged. "Old family recipe. No one mentions exactly what's in it, probably because we don't want to know."

"Hmm," I said, nodding. Chelsea slid off the bed, reaching for my arm. "C'mon," she said. "Breakfast is almost over. You need to get some hearty English food in you."

It was then that the panic hit. I could feel it bubble p in my throat. I was in no state to be anywhere James might be. I needed time to think, to sort out my thoughts and my feelings…and I couldn't do that if James happened to be sitting too close and smelling too wonderful. Because he did smell wonderful – I remembered that much from last night.

"Oh no," I said, waving my hands at her, my eyes wide. "I can't do that."

One of her eyebrows floated up near her hairline. "And why's that?"

"James will be there."

"That's a probability, yes."

"I can't see him."

Chelsea crossed her arms. "I thought you hadn't decided what you were going to do."

"Just made up my mind. Decided I'm going to avoid him."

"The Lily Evans I know would never run away from anything."

"No," I corrected. "Lily Evans never runs away from a fight. She does, however, run away from boys she's drunkenly snogged in lifts."

Chelsea rolled her eyes. She was doing that a lot lately. "You're such a wet weed, Evans."

"As my best mate I know you'll accept me for who I am, and learn to love me despite my faults."

"Or I may just kick your sorry arse," she muttered. "You can't just hide in your room all day like an ickle specky first year."

"I can, actually. It's a perk of being Head Girl."

"And what about food?"

"I'll go to the kitchens."

"You'll have to leave your room to do that," she said, looking smug. I shook my head.

"I'll use the lift."

Chelsea frowned at me. "You're being ridiculous."

"No, I'm not."

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about. From the sounds of it, James quite enjoyed himself." She flashed a grin, but I wasn't having it, feeling a twinge in my heart.

"He pushed me away!" I remembered that part very clearly too.

"Because he didn't want to take advantage - you know that!"

I hesitated, looking down at the ground. It took a moment before I found the right words. "I'm not sure…how I feel about everything yet."

Her gaze narrowed. "Meaning what?"

"I acted foolishly, Chels. I wasn't thinking, and I hadn't considered everything with the proper perspective. I mean, I don't even know how I really feel about James-"

"Don't start that rubbish again," she snapped. I sighed.

"Fine. I fancy James, but I don't know if that means that I actually want to…start a relationship," I said, not entirely sure if I was lying. "I mean, I was drunk and messing around in the lift, it wasn't anything serious – it could never be between James and I."

Chelsea looked angry. "And why not?"

"We're too different," I tried to explain. "I hardly know him, and I don't want to jump into anything, you know? And we're Heads, we have our professional relationship to think about!"

That was a lie. I couldn't give a flying fig about my professional relationship, but that was my story and I was sticking to it, no matter how many holes Chelsea might try to punch through it. But the part about it never being serious between us…those were words hit a little too close to the truth in my mind. Every instance I could remember of James speaking to me in prior years involved him either being a bullying prat, or him saying something suggestive.

"Must you always tear the mickey out of me every chance you get, Evans?" he'd said one day in fifth year.

"I'm just returning the favour you so often pay me," I told him.

"There are many favours I'd be happy to exchange with you." He'd said with a smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows. "But this isn't one of them."

Because of moments like that, it was hard to take anything he did now all that seriously.

Chelsea let out a huff of air, glaring at me. "You're absolutely mad."

"That's probably true," I sighed.

"You're just scared."

"That's probably true, too."

She sighed. "Well at least you admit it."

I smiled as Chelsea ran a hand over her hair, sighing heavily at me. "Alright, hide in your room like a bleeding pansy. But when this blows up in your face, don't come crying to me."

"What do you mean?"

She frowned at me. "James isn't going to wait around forever. Eventually the poor bloke is going to snap, and you're going to come out on the losing end if you're not careful."

And with that final warning she left, slamming the door behind her. I sighed and then flopped down on my bed. I had a feeling that it was going to be a very long day.

I bided my time for a the next little while, not feeling particularly up to food and instead burying my nose in my DADA text book. A few minutes into a chapter on shielding, there was a knock at my door. I froze, staring over the edge of my book like there was a boggart on the other side of the door.

"Lily?" came James' voice through the door. When I didn't answer, I saw the knob twist. I reached for my wand, quickly muttering the spell to lock my door. I heard James mutter a few curse words when the door wouldn't budge.

"Lily," he called again, "Chelsea told me you're in there. I need to speak to you."

I stayed where I was, barely able to breathe. After a moment I heard a deep sigh and the sound of his footsteps fading away. Waiting until it was silent again, I got up slowly. Now seemed like as good a time as any to flee my room and head for the kitchens.

I called the lift and ordered it to the kitchens, arriving seconds later. Despite the trouble it had caused recently, I had to admit that the lift had its uses. The house elves greeted me, moving instantly to begin setting a place for me and bringing me several of my favourite dishes.

"Would Miss Evans prefer pasta or a turkey sandwich?" asked a small house elf, here big eyes staring up at me.

"I think I'm in need of some emergency trifle, Holly," I said, sinking onto the stool with a sigh.

"Has Miss Evans had a bad morning?" asked Holly, returning seconds later with a bowl of raspberry trifle.

"You could say that," I muttered. Holly blinked, then said flatly, "Mr Potter was down here earlier."

I hesitated. "Was he?"

She nodded earnestly. "Mr Potter told Holly he was anxious about Miss Evans."

I shoved a spoonful of trifle into my mouth. "And why's that?"

"He said he was concerned Miss Evans would be angry with him."

"Angry?"

Holly nodded again. "Mr Potter said that Miss Evans is often cross with him."

I rolled my eyes. "That's not true."

Holly blinked. "Holly has often heard Miss Evans complain about Mr Potter."

I waved my fork dismissively. "Maybe before. Not so much now. What else did James say?"

"That he hoped Miss Evans wouldn't try to hide from him again like she's been doing."

I smirked at that. Holly twisted her smock in her long knobbly fingers. "Mr Potter also said Holly should tell him if Miss Evans visits the kitchens."

I froze, a spoonful of trifle halfway to my mouth. "He what?"

"He told Holly-"

"I heard what you said!" I yelped, jumping to my feet. "Holly, did you tell him I was here?"

"No, Miss Evans. Holly didn't."

I relaxed, folding into my seat again.

"But Rind just left to inform Mr Potter."

"What!" I jumped up, ramming the spoon into my mouth and reaching to take my bowl of trifle with me. If I ever needed comfort food, now was the moment. I spun around, hoping to escape before James showed up, but he was already there, standing a few feet away, leaning against the opening of the lift. He was watching me, slightly amused but also looking a bit cross, his hands folded across his chest. His tie was loose around his neck, the first few buttons of his shirt undone and his sleeves rolled up. My spoon nearly fell out of my mouth as I stared at him, my eyes round with panic. I was not nearly coherent enough to face him yet. I caught the spoon as it fell and bolted for the door out of the kitchens.

Unfortunately, James had fast reflexes. His spell hit the door seconds before I reached it, locking it. I slammed into the door, and nearly fell over.

"Bloody hell, James!" I yelled. "Are you trying to bleeding kill me?"

He glared at me, storming across the kitchen. "Stop running away from me, Lily, and then I won't have to."

"I'm not running away," I lied. "I have somewhere I need to be. I'm a rather busy person I'll have you know," I told him primly. He rolled his eyes, boxing me in against the door.

"I don't care if you're the busiest bird in all of Britain. I need to speak to you," he said. "And I don't care how furious you may be with me I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Perhaps another time?" I said, edging away from him. His arm shot up, blocking my path.

"Don't you dare, Lily Evans."

I sighed. "What do you want, James?"

"I want to know why you keep avoiding me the minute things get a bit sticky."

That was a rather loaded question for a Sunday morning, and I felt he ought to have known that.

"I'm not avoiding you," I told him sharply, shoving him away and heading toward the lift.

"Bloody hell you aren't," he muttered, following closely behind me. "Are you embarrassed about last night?"

"Yes," I answered honestly, turning to face him. He stopped, peering down at me through his glasses. His gaze softened.

"You don't need to be."

"Oh really?" I snapped, a flash of anger replacing my unease. "You mean to tell me that I shouldn't be embarrassed that I thrust myself on a man who clearly told me he didn't fancy me?"

"Is that what this is all about?" he asked, startled. "You thinking I don't fancy you anymore?"

"Thinking? I don't think, I know! You told me! You wouldn't even kiss me when I clearly wanted you to!"

"You were drunk, Lily!" he shouted back. "What did you expect me to do after six years of being loathed by you? To just shove my tongue down your throat the first chance I got? I respect you more than that."

I paused. "I never loathed you."

"Well you certainly didn't like me."

"I like you now. We're friends."

"I'm aware of that."

There was an uneasy silence between us. The house elves scurried around, a few of them casting us curious glances. I sighed. "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I just…needed time to think."

He scratched the back of his head before he pushed his glasses up his nose and asked, "Can I be honest?"

I nodded, watching him curiously.

"I don't want to be friends with you."

I blinked. "Pardon?"

"I've never wanted to be your friend, Lily."

"But…" I murmured, "But you said…"

"I know what I said. I lied."

I stared at him, my feet stuck to the floor. "You don't even like me enough to want to be my friend?"

He laughed then, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. "Merlin, Lily, no. I fancy you too much to just be your friend."

Oh. Well then.

My head was swimming with this information. Sure Chelsea had told me so before, but now I had it straight from the horse's mouth! He still fancied me! The knowledge made me feel slightly giddy, but the cynical part of my brain was angry and pulled out a beater's bat and smashed the giddy feeling to smithereens. I hadn't missed Cynical Lily when I'd been drunk. Cynical Lily was a bloody pain. But now that she was there, she was filling my head with all sorts of horrible scenarios - vivid images of the way everything could go horribly, horribly wrong. Like him still being an absolute wanker deep down, or this all being some sort of sick joke, or - and this one scared me the most - him dating me…and then leaving me.

"Lily?" he said uneasily, watching as my face went from happy to clearly upset. I looked up at him, a torrent of feelings coursing through me. My heart was beating too fast, and I wanted to touch him, to run my hands along his jaw and place kisses on his mouth, but another part of me, the terrified part, the one that didn't believe that anything could possibly work out - felt like smacking him across the face and running away.

"I…I can't," I said, turning away from him. When he blocked my entrance to the lift, I turned back the door.

"Alohamora!" I shouted, the door unlocking as I stormed away from the kitchens. He followed me, suddenly furious.

"Lily! Lily, stop!" he shouted after me.

I didn't listen to him, hurrying down the corridors and twisting around corners. He ran up to me and spun me to face him.

"You know exactly how to drive a bloke barking mad, you know that?" he shouted at me. I glared up at him, but he wasn't going to let me speak.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I want to be with you, Lily. I care about you, even though you're mad and you annoy the hell out of me. You're stubborn and you seem to give everyone the benefit of the doubt except me. I fancy you and I know you fancy me too, Lily. We're so close to something great happening - finally, after all these years - and I know you feel it, and that's why you keep running!"

"You don't know anything!" I yelled, shoving past him. People in the hallway were staring, whispering.

"I know a lot of things!" he shouted back. "I know you're scared! I know how it felt when you snogged me in the lift! I know we both want to do it again!"

"Sod off!" I yelled over my shoulder. But he didn't listen.

"No, you bloody listen to me Lily Evans! I'm not giving up on you! I'm not going away! I'm not backing down!"

"Then I hope you enjoy a life of disappointment!" I screamed as I spun to face him. He was breathing heavily, his face flushed and his eyes wild. I glared up him, furious. We stared at each other, the air crackling around us. And then with one final glower I spun on my heel and stomped into the girl's loo, locking the door behind me. He banged on the door, but I ignored him.

I heard several cuss words before he kicked the door one final time and thundered off. I finally let out the breath I'd been holding since back in the kitchens. I cursed, leaning against a nearby sink for support. How had this gotten so wildly out of hand?

I resisted the urge to begin slamming my head against the wall, but only just. I was being so stupid. I knew that the entire time, and yet…I just couldn't seem to stop it. The panic had seized me and refused to let go. But now, in the quiet of the lavatory, the fear began to ebb away, and I was left with a sinking feeling.

"Well, well, well," said a high pitched voice close to my ear. "Looks like someone's created a bit of a….shall we call it a fuster cluck?"

I turned to see the silvery form of Moaning Myrtle floating next to me. She grinned wickedly. "If you don't want Potter, I'll have him."

"I don't…" I whispered, staring at her. "I don't not want him."

"He visited me once in fourth year," she reminisced, ignoring me as she hovered closer to her toilet. "Charming young lad. Told me I had a transparent personality." She giggled.

"Myrtle," I started. Suddenly she flew at me, her voice dropping several octaves as she yelled, "What? Do you think I'm not good enough for him? That you're better than me?"

"No, no, Myrtle, that's not what I meant!" I fumbled, caught off guard by her wild mood swings.

She glared at me, and then she shot to her toilet, splashed into the bowl and began sobbing uncontrollably.

I muttered swear words as I leaned against the sink, jamming my fingers in my ears to block out the sound of her crying. It didn't help much. Sighing, I headed for the door, peeking outside to make sure James hadn't set up camp in the hallway. It was nearly dinner, and I was starving. I decided to risk making an appearance in the Great Hall for supper, praying that the large audience would stop James from trying to yell at me some more.

There was no sign of him in the corridors or in the Great Hall, so I scurried to my seat next to Chelsea. She turned to me the moment I sat down, her gaze critical.

"What did you do?" she asked, her tone flat.

"Could you be a bit more specific? I've done lots of things today," I told her. "I discovered house elves make terrible allies when you're trying to hide from someone, I confirmed that Moaning Myrtle's cries are nearly deafening and-"

"What did you do," she cut me off with a glare, "that caused James to throw such a fit that he burned that hole in the wall when Peter asked him the time?"

I stared at where she was pointing. On the far wall, rather close to the Slytherin table, was a big black pockmark. A deep gouge marred the stone. Smoke still wafting from it occasionally. I felt the colour drain from my face.

"Bloody hell," muttered.

"Bloody hell is right," Chelsea said. "What in the name of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore did you do?"

I groaned and put my forehead on the table. "I told him I didn't want to date him. He got angry. I got angry. There was a spot of yelling."

Chelsea shook her head at me. "You're an absolute gormless git sometimes, Lily."

I began repeatedly banging my head against the table. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" I muttered.

"Stop that, you'll give yourself a bruise," she chided, pulling at the back of my robes, stopping my self-inflicted punishment. She then patted by back absentmindedly. "There, there, munchkin. We'll sort this mess out."

"I hate you," I muttered. "None of this would have happened if it wasn't for you and that stupid sodding lift."

"What's done is done, Lily. It's time to do the grown up thing and make amends and stop acting like a loon."

I sighed. "I guess. But I've botched everything up. I've never seen James this livid. Normally when he's upset with me about something he just…says something rude, or insinuates something, and then everything goes back to normal. But now he's all…" I dropped my voice lower, "'I'm not giving up, Lily! I fancy you, Lily! I liked snogging you, Lily!' I just don't know what to do."

Chelsea snorted. "You're lucky I'm even sitting here talking to you. I told you this would happen if you acted like a pansy. If you'd just behaved like any normal red-blooded witch you would have just snogged him again and accepted an invite to Hogsmeade. But no, you just had to go all psychotic and try and hide."

"I should be offended by that comment…but I just don't have the energy."

"Knackered as you may be, you need to fix this. This can't go on the way it has been."

"I know that."

"Then go, go fix it right now."

"But I'm hungry…" I grumbled. Chelsea glared, then grabbed a roll of the table, shoved it in my mouth and yanked me to my feet.

"Now go, Lily, don't leave this any longer."

"Alright," I muttered once I'd swallowed a bite of roll. "Fine. I'm bloody going. Don't get our knickers in a twist."

With one last parting glance at her, I set off to find James. The only problem was, I didn't know where he'd stormed off to. He and the Marauders knew the school inside and out – every passageway, every shortcut. He could be in Hogsmeade getting drunk and hitting of Rosmerta by now.

Then I got an idea.

I moved to the closest wall, pulled out my wand and tapped it three times.

"I'm in terrible need of a lift," I said. This could work. It'd worked last time when Chelsea had simply yelled for it to find James, so why not now?

But as the wall opened up, and the doors of the lift slid open, I realized I didn't have to look much farther.

Because there James stood, leaning back against the wall, his mouth set into a determined line.

I gulped.

A/N: Please review to let me know what you think so far!