Chapter 12

Halloween was approaching fast. The air had turned crisp and cool and whipped my face any time I stepped outside. I was now bundling up in my jacket with a thick scarf and hat, although the sun shone benevolently down on me.

To celebrate All Hallows' Eve – it's got to be the best excuse in the world for people to dress like slags and get smashed – Gryffindor was planning its yearly party. 'Party' was synonymous with drinking, fooling around, and general merriment. It was a bloody good time.

Of course, I never dressed up for Halloween, since there were no options for girls except for witch or slutty nurse. So instead, I treated the holiday as an excuse to dress up nicely, decked out in my finest, since there were so few days a year when I could do that. Although, I needed to find a day where I could go to Hogsmeade to get a new dress with Char and Miranda.

Fred Weasley, James's closest cousin, was orchestrating the whole event with Rose Weasley (who, by the way, was snogging Scorpius Malfoy and it was bloody hysterical when Ron, her dad, found out. He had a complete shit fit). Al and Lily were helping with stealing food provisions from the kitchens. God, it was like an army operation.

"Okay," barked Fred, "We'll be having approximately a hundred guests that day, which is in only one week, people!"

I burst out laughing and he glared at me, but I caught James's eye and he was muffling laughter behind his hand.

Rose rolled her blue eyes and ran a hand through her red wavy hair. She looked exactly like her father. It was a bit scary actually. "Shut up, Freddie," she said good-naturedly.

I loved that girl. She could control anyone, like her mother, with a simple sentence.

Ah, the power of being a woman.

Which I apparently didn't have. "OI! JAMES!" I shouted yet again. He finally stopped sniggering and glanced up at me.

"Fetch me a blanket, would you?" I commanded, none too nicely.

James's brow furrowed. "You're shitting me. I'm not your bloody house elf, Milla."

"I'm cold!" I protested, laughing.

He shoved me aside and sat down on the couch. "Watch."

I watched bemusedly as he laid down and pulled me with him so I was resting on his chest, his arm draped casually around my waist. I could hear his heart beating beneath me, and his muscles from years of playing Quidditch.

Oh my God, he was fit.

I had to stifle a groan. Focus, I commanded myself. He's your best mate.

YOUR BEST MATE.

Maybe if I chanted it enough I would remember it.

Maybe I needed to get it tattooed on my body somewhere so I could remember this vital detail.

Oh, fuck me.

Well maybe James could…

AH! I needed to stop. This was unacceptable. James is your best friend. Nothing more. He never will be.

This thought sobered me up, and I rested my head against his chest and sighed.

"Everything okay, love?" he said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"Yeah, I s'pose so," I murmured sleepily.

Merlin, I was so tired… my eyes fluttered shut.

That's the last thing I remember before passing out.

That Thursday, I was sitting in the common room, bored, flipping through a book. Miranda was on her daily jog, Charlotte was doing a project in the library, Ben was helping Luke with Transfiguration, and I was all alone. I didn't know where James was.

I sighed and tossed my book aside, staring into the fire. Merlin, there was literally NOTHING TO DO.

Just when I was considering leaping out the window, James's amused voice said, "Milla, what the hell are you doing here alone?"

I shrugged. "I'm so bored I could die."

"Why don't you and I go have some fun then, hm?" said James with a smile.

"Brilliant idea!" I shouted. I jumped up and looked down at myself in my jeans and sweatshirt.

I'm sorry, I draw the line. I'm not going around in public looking like this.

"Hang on," I called out over my shoulder as I raced up the stairs. I pulled off my gray sweatshirt and pulled on a pretty, flowy tank and a cashmere sweater. I did a quick once-over in the mirror, threw on a necklace, and waltzed down the stairs. There, that was better. I had little self-dignity, but I had some.

James looked at me in amusement. "You needed to change?"

I crossed my arms defensively. "I wanted to."

"Milla, it's me remember?" he said.

"Obviously, you dolt," I said, smacking him upside the head.

God, boys are such idiots.

"Whatever, you lunatic," he said, with his hands up in front of him. I smacked him again.

"Git," I muttered, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

"Okay, so where to?" he asked.

"The kitchens! Duh."

"Okay, but first, a walk around the lake," he suggested.

"Good idea," I agreed. It was a beautiful evening.

As I stepped out into the dusk, I felt the cold wind wash over me. I hugged my jacket tighter to me and looked at the landscape stretched out in front of me. The Great Lake loomed in the distance, various colors rippling in the water. I glanced up at James, and his imperturbable face was looking at some indeterminate spot in the distance.

I felt a wave of affection for him wash over me and I tucked my arm through his. He peered down at me and smiled. I felt oddly comfortable with him. It was something old and familiar, but combined with a new feeling – a feeling of satisfaction. This felt right.

Mr. and Mrs. Potter strolling by the lake on a chilly autumn evening with their children –

Oh, goodness, I needed to stop this nonsense. I would soon become a bedlamite.

Or Charlotte.

But Camilla Bancroft Potter did sound so good, didn't it?

Oh God, I was fucked. I hit myself on the forehead.

"Er, Milla, you alright?" James asked bemusedly.

"Yeah, I think so," I mumbled. God, I was so stupid.

"So, how was your day?" James queried.

"It was okay. Peeves made up a jeer about Miranda and Nate flirting so I had to avert that disaster. But otherwise uneventful. You?"

"Oh, not much. After you and I had lunch, I spent time with Lucia upstairs and we –"

I cut him off sharply. "That's lovely."

James gave me a look. "I know you don't like her, but she's there. Milla, I have a girlfriend."

I frowned. "I know that, James."

"Trying to avoid the subject of her won't make her disappear, you know," James said knowingly. "I know you, Milla. I know you try to avoid things that you don't like."

I flicked him. I know, so mature.

"Don't much care, do I?" I stuck out my chin obstinately.

"But you should! She's my girlfriend and I'm your best mate. Therefore you should care and try to be good about this," he said rationally, raising his brow.

I raised my own in response. "Well, I don't. I'm sorry, I don't know if that's the right thing to say, but I don't give a shit about her. I love you, my best mate, and not the cow you're currently seeing. And because I've known you so long, I don't have to bullshit around you. I'm not going to pretend I like the bitch. Sorry."

James sighed heavily. "Of course, love. That's you. As long as you don't love Quidditch more than me –"

I punched his arm. "Duh, you git."

Suddenly a figure appeared in the distance, running towards us. Ah, Miranda. As she passed, she gave me a wry look and waved. I rapidly remembered our situation – my arm tucked into James, and us chatting. Oh my, that was so couple-y of us.

I automatically smiled at the thought.

"What're you smiling about?" he asked me.

"Nothing," I said airily. "Now, shall we head to the kitchens?"

"Oi, James! Pass me the salad, eh?" I laughed.

"Salad is too healthy, Milla," he said, scrunching his nose.

"Psh. When you die of a heart attack at age twenty-five, I'll know why. And I'll also throw a party."

James rolled his eyes. "Sure you would. And you won't be devastated and giving my eulogy."

I threw a roll at him.

"Course I won't. I'd be ecstatic if you kicked the bucket."

Ah, I had such a way with words.

"You have such a way with words, Milla," he said sardonically. "You're so kind to me."

"Well, what's the point of beating around the bush? You die, you die. You kick the bucket. Same thing."

"Don't be so sensitive!" he said with a melodramatic flourish. I simply threw another roll at him.

"Arse," I said.

"I'm not the bint here," he responded laughingly.

"That's it! If you're going to be mean to me, I'm leaving," I said with a dramatic flair. I stood, turned and made to leave but I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist.

"No you're not," a deep voice said in my ear and I felt myself shiver as his warm breath made the hairs by my ear waver.

I quickly shrugged off his arms and turned to gaze at him. "Then don't be a right git," I said, trying to inject some normalcy into this rapidly intensifying situation.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. "Come off it. Okay, It's getting late, so we can grab some dessert and take it with us, yeah?"

I nodded. "Pumpkin pasties?" he asked. He didn't need to. He knew my favorites. He grabbed fifteen (ten for himself, and five for me), and magicked them to become smaller to fit in his pocket.

"Let's go," he said, putting a hand on the small of my back to guide me out of the kitchens.

"Fuck, it's past curfew. Now we have to sneak back, and I forgot the Cloak in my dormitory," he said with a grimace.

My eyes gleamed. "Since when are you one to turn down a challenge?"

James gave me a lopsided grin and I felt my heart warm. James was … so James. It was something indescribable but so quintessentially him.

We made our way back to Gryffindor tower, taking circuitous routes, and laughing as James told me about trying to do Quidditch strategies during History of Magic and how Binns caught him. James, as usual, got out of punishment by telling him these plans were for his dying mother and he even feigned a tear describing in loving detail how much his mother adored Quidditch. And Binns bought it. Hmph. Typical James and his success.

Suddenly we heard footsteps in the hallway. FUCK. Luckily, after years of traversing after hours in the castle, we knew which corners and behind which statues to hide.

It was the benefit of being best friends with a Potter.

James grabbed my hand and pulled me behind a tapestry into an alcove. He pushed me in front of him and flattened me against the wall, his chin a few inches above my head. Humph. Bloody height difference.

"Is he gone?" I asked quietly, exhaling loudly. Fuck, that was a mistake. As I did that, my chest came into contact with his and I suppressed a shudder. Oh my God, he was so fit. Why did I have to be his best friend and therefore unavailable to him? WHY?

I looked up at James, breathless. His eyes were unreadable as he gazed down at me, and his mouth was set in a grim line. So being this close to me was repulsive for him, was it?

Bugger.

The footsteps grew louder and James pushed me further into the wall, covering my mouth with his hand. I could feel his every muscle outlined against my body and I was in sheer agony. I breathed hard against his hand, the rough dry skin covering my lips.

The footsteps had stopped around the tapestry and I held my breath. After a pregnant pause, they continued on their way, and once they had rounded the corner, James immediately moved away from me, running a hand through his hair, his face inscrutable.

I felt a look of hurt flash over my face. I wasn't that hideous, was I?

I quickly rearranged my features and said falsely cheerily, "Whoof. Thank God we didn't get caught."

"Er, yeah," James said distractedly. "Yeah, you're right."

We walked in companionable silence back to the tower.

Once inside, James grinned at me crookedly and gave me a quick hug. "Milla, want to come up with me?"

I wanted nothing more, but the image of him recoiling from me made me shake my head somberly. "No, I think I'll go up."

James looked astonished, but shrugged casually. "Okay, night Milla."

"Night James." I smiled over my shoulder.

It was the first time I had ever refused to spend the night with him.

I was picking out jewelry to go with my dress in Hogsmeade with Char and Miranda. We had snuck out for a girls' night to buy dresses for the Halloween party. It was a yearly tradition.

I had already picked out a gray, shimmery dress, and some black heels. But now for the jewelry. Hmm.

"THIS!" cried Charlotte victoriously and she thrust a sparkling pair of chandelier earrings in my direction.

I crushed her in a hug. "I love you! You're amazing!"

"I know," she said smugly.

Miranda rolled her eyes from the rack she was perusing casually with one hand.

"So you had fun with James?" she asked.

"Yes. Oh my God, Miranda, after we went for a walk and saw you, we went to the kitchens and had a lovely evening."

Charlotte clasped her hands. "Oh, you two would make such a brilliant couple," she said, with tears in her eyes.

I threw a shoe at her. "Except for the pesky fact that he has a girlfriend."

Charlotte waved her hand dismissively. "It'll end."

I shook my head morosely. "No it won't. They'll marry and have the children I'm meant to have with him."

No, I did NOT just say that out loud. FUCK.

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Okay, Charlotte, since apparently that's who you've become. You two are insufferable."

I threw the other shoe at Miranda.

Great friends these two were.

"You will be with him," Charlotte insisted, looking at me intently.

I rolled my eyes, but inside I secretly hoped she was right.