2: Lost Battle

"In a battle all you need to make you fight is a little hot blood and the knowledge that it's more dangerous to lose than to win."

– George Bernard Shaw

OCTOBER, 1974

'Oi, Fawn. Look.'

Rolling her eyes at the nickname (Saiph had been dead on to making the nicknames official, and found it hilarious that Rhea had no idea where they came from), she looked up from her parchment – yes, she was doing her homework for once, the OWLs year already stressing even the Marauders (with the exception of Saiph, who wasn't even bothered in reading a page of anything) – and her eyes brightened. Down the aisle, with his cute focused face and green eyes studiously concentrating on one of the many books piled up on his desk, was Liam.

Her future husband was a mere ten steps away, in his realm of library beauty.

At least, it looked beautiful when he was in it.

Rhea – now known as Moony – knitted her eyebrows, shaking her head disapprovingly. 'I don't think that's a good idea, Jane,' she advised, not getting the hang of the nicknaming thing quite yet. 'Not in the library – you know he'll just shout at you, getting both of you kicked out, and consequently get even madder.'

'Pah!' she said, tossing away the suggestion jokingly. 'Moony. Puh-leaase. I've been doing this ever since Second Year.' Standing up, she chose to ignore the roll of Saiph's eyes and the twitter of Polly's snigger, taking a deep breath. 'Step aside, bitches, and let the Queen of Flirting come through.'

'Don't come crying to us when he rejects you.'

'Don't come asking me for the Maid of Honour position when he agrees!' she said with a huff, paying no attention to the bark of laughter from Saiph and marching determinedly towards the One.

A part of her almost didn't want to approach him. She suddenly craved to just stare at him from a distance instead, observing the cute little things he'd do. Before it was just a flimsy, fun fancy, just to annoy him and see his eyes go attractively angry, but now, she reflected, she actually found herself longing to be in those strong arms, hold those big hands, even be kissed.

And Merlin, did she hate teenage hormones.

But the other part of her felt angry that she wouldn't get noticed the way she wanted to, wanted to confront the problem in the usual jokey manner she'd do a million times before. She couldn't possibly walk up to him and be – well, her usual self, especially in an awkward place like this. That'd be vulnerable.

She couldn't possibly do that.

If he got annoyed, angry – she'd still get some sort of attention, wouldn't she? It was a win-win, really.

So she decided to go with the option she chose the most, skipping towards him and smoothly sitting across him, running her hands through her hair and giving him a wink. He didn't look up, but she saw the usual tension of his shoulders whenever she arrived onto the scene.

Inwardly, she sighed. Again, she stupidly made the wrong choice.

This wasn't going to end well.

It was only the fourteen thousandth time.

But now that she was there, she had to go along with it.

After a few silent moments of extravagant winking, holding her breath to make embarrassingly flat chest look bigger and biting her lip, he broke the silence, face still buried in his book. 'What do you want, Potter?'

You. But she couldn't say that. 'You, sir, look absolutely ravishing today, d'you know that?'

'Not today, Potter,' he said. 'I'm trying to write that huge Potions essay Slughorn assigned yesterday, and I can't concentrate with you around.'

She smirked, leaning forward on the table. 'I have that effect on people.'

He only sighed.

'I'm important to you, aren't I?' A flush of celebration engulfed her as she threw her arms into the air, beaming at him expectantly. He only crossed his eyebrows grouchily. Disappointed, her arms flopped back down onto the desk. 'What's got you in a grump today, Evans?'

'Potter,' he warned, the book finally flopping onto the desk and rubbing his face with aggravation, giving a groan. 'I said not today.'

'But –'

'You heard what he said, Potter.'

Jane turned around to face familiar cold snarl, her hazel eyes landing on the girl she least wanted to see. Anger, jealousy, and defensive emotions swarmed through her as she shot up from her chair, fingering her wand in her pocket.

Her friends behind the Slytherin sat up with alarm, Saiph looking apprehensive, but Rhea must've told them something because they slowly sat back down, still seemingly alert.

'What're you doing here, Snappy?' Jane said, her tone filled with disgust, popping out her hip and tilting her head to look superior. 'The books are damaged enough without your grease on them.'

Snape smirked darkly, pleasure flickering across her black eyes. 'Oh, I'm just here to study with my best friend.'

'Oh, funny, because I was too – you know, with my secure circle of friends that doesn't feel sorry for me.'

Even for Jane, that was, admittedly, a new low. She basically insulted her for being a loner, and despite how much she loathed the girl, it wasn't right to point out that someone's disability to socialize. But if she didn't say something, it would make her look weaker than Selena, and she didn't want to look stupid in front of Liam.

Blame the Gryffindor pride.

She heard Liam standing up, and she could picture his face full of rage – eyes flashing, maybe even a bit of disappointment in there, too; swallowing her guilt, she stood her ground, and saw some students crowding around the aisle in the library. Jane was shocked that Pince hadn't noticed anything yet.

She thought her nose could always smell a whiff of marauding a mile away.

Oddly enough, Snape didn't look the slightest offended, crossing her arms and sneering. 'At least I can see what's in front of me without awful 1800th spectacles that make one look so utterly ugly.'

Oh.

Oh.

'At least I wash my hair,' she retorted, making some of the students laugh around her – even some Slytherins. She cracked a grin at the support.

'Well, my hair stays in place.' Selena strolled towards her, a victorious smile spreading across her lips as she saw Jane's grin falter. 'My hair doesn't resemble something between Hargid's beard, Dumbledore's raggedy long mop and a Norwegian Ridgeback's nest. Also,' she added, pointing up a finger before she could reply, 'do you have any tits? Any at all? They look like mushrooms! I mean, come on! Look!'

Some people started laughing at Jane, even more so than they did with Snape. Jane began to stutter, opening and closing her mouth with embarrassment, feeling her eyes prickle.

'Sel –' Liam began.

'Look at you! So tall, so thin!' Snape cackled. Oh, had the tables turned so cruelly, so quickly before she had the time to catch up. 'I don't think we'd need a goal for Quidditch matches, I imagine by next week you'll just have to hoop your arms above your head and that'd be all.'

A crowd had formed. Everyone was smiling, laughing. Liam probably was probably thinking she was an idiot, a foolish brat who get upset despite the fact that she gave people the same thing she was receiving. It was karma coming back around – Snape was feeding her own shit into her mouth.

She wanted to cry in embarrassment. But she was too stubborn to – she didn't want to look weak in front of Liam. Never in a million years would she let him see what she saw in the mirror every day.

So instead anger came.

Her blood boiled, her cheeks burnt and her eyes were clouding with angry tears – yes, of course they were angry tears – she whipped out her wand, non-verbally casting Levicorpus and the Slytherin flew straight up by the ankle, her skirt flopping down her shirt as she frantically tried to pull it up to her thighs. Too furious to even fight, she marched around her and stormed out of the library, wiping away the stupid tears that threatened to fall and not waiting for her friends that tried to bustle their way through the crowd.

She didn't know that Liam noticed her crying.

'Jane, please!' begged Rhea from the other side of the shower stall, her voice being partly drowned out by the noise of the water raining down all over Jane's body. 'You've been in there for over three hours and we're worried about you!'

Another sob escaped her as she sank to the floor, her uniform clinging to her skin and messy hair sticking to her forehead. 'Worry about someone worth worrying about.'

'This isn't like you! You do get down sometimes but not – not this down!'

'Get used to it,' she said nasally, sniffing, looking at the droplets repeatedly hit the floor. 'I'm staying in here forever, until all of my skin goes wrinkly like it does on my fingers. After that I'll have a cardboard bag over my head and then you'll be too embarrassed to be around me!'

'Jane, you're being ridiculous. What if you need the loo?'

'Shit in here, Moony. I'll shit in here.'

She heard Rhea sigh and open the door, not bothering to look up to the sympathetic expression her friend was bound to wear. Jane looked down when she felt Rhea sit herself next to her, her clothes beginning to get soaked as the boiling hot water gravitated down on her, too. She couldn't really see anything out of the corner of her eye – only able to make out blurs, since she left her glasses on her bed.

For a few silent moments the two friends sat in silence, both of them trying to hold back tears; Jane didn't know why Rhea was about to cry – it must've taken a lot to make the werewolf feel that way, after her going through so much in so little time.

'What did she say?' Rhea murmured, resting her head on Jane's shoulder. 'In the library?'

'The truth,' Jane said glumly.

'Jane.'

'It's nothing, nothing you should concern yourself with –'

'Jane.'

It was then when she couldn't bear it anymore. 'Are my tits really that small? As small as mushrooms?' she cried, holding back a sob and covering her face in frustration.

'Honey –'

'I know this isn't the worst thing that should be on my mind right now. With You-Know-Who bloody killing Muggleborns left and right, and OWLs and McGonagall getting down my back every second of every fucking day – and EVANS!'

'Oh, Jane.'

'Don't get me fucking started on EVANS! Everything little thing I do he hates! I try to impress him but it doesn't work, he sees right through it, I try to avoid him but it never works because sometimes he gives me a warning glance that's supposed to be scary but it's so d – damn gorgeous.'

'Listen –'

'He hates me, Moony. He's going to love Snappy Snape and have ugly little beak-nosed babies with wonderful green eyes, and they're going to be the happy cute Evans family that runs around and laughs all the time and everyone loves them while I'm going to live with CATS.'

'Jane –'

'It's settled. I'm going to turn out to be a lesbian cat lady that shits in her own dirt and screams at small children.'

'Jane!'

She stopped herself from continuing her self-pitying speech, looking at Moony with wide, watery, doe-like eyes and a tad bit guilty, realising she had freely sobbed in front of her werewolf friend (who had it much worse than her) and feeling disproportionally sorry for herself.

'Sorry,' she said guiltily, wiping her eyes.

'Don't be.' Rhea offered a kind, wet smile (was she crying too?), helping to wipe the tears under Jane's eyes. 'It's awful to see you like this. You've hardly been yourself for two whole weeks.'

'Sorry –'

'Shut up, Fawn, you big pillock,' Rhea laughed as Jane's lips quirked up into a small smile. 'It's not your fault. It's Snape's – she shouldn't have said those things to you, you don't deserve it. She deserves everything she gets. Don't,' she said, not giving her a chance to argue, 'tell me otherwise. You're a wonderful, beautiful person, Jane!'

Jane had the feeling that Rhea was lying to make her feel better, but she appreciated the action anyway. Blushing, Jane shook her head. 'I'm not.'

'Your, err, tits – they'll grow. At least they're not huge double D's.' They both giggled, Rhea fiddling with Jane's damp wisps of hair after turning off the shower. 'And your hair is sexy messy – guys dig that type of thing! We're only fifteen, Jane. We'll grow into our actual shape, and you'll be so slim and curvy –'

'You three will.'

'Please don't get me frustrated, Fawn, I'm on my period.' The two girls laughed, the tension ebbing away as Jane stood up and turned the small shower valve to stop the shower from running. Holding out a hand to Rhea, Jane smiled a real smile for the first time in weeks.

The werewolf took the hand when Jane noticed something. 'Why were you crying?'

'Oh.' Rhea knitted her eyebrows, drawing Jane in to a hug. 'I hated seeing you like that. We all did, even Liam.'

'EVEN EVANS?!' she exclaimed, stepping out of the embrace and shaking her friend's shoulders. 'WHY DID YOU NOT TELL ME THIS?!'

'I don't have facts, as such,' confessed Rhea, 'but his expressions when he looked at you during lunch says so.'

'He feels sympathetic?' she said, biting her lip. 'I didn't want him to feel sorry for me!'

'It's better than hating you.'

'Oh, shut up.'

'Pillock.'

'Bollocks.'

'Cry baby.'

'Now you took it too far, Loopy.'

'Can you not?'

Yeah, last time I called her Bambi? See the note for last chapter for explanation :P

So Jane is a very, very insecure Jane at the moment, like all teenagers are. Liam gets his first clue on how Jane really is. I know it's only 3 segments in and it's all dramadramadrama but fifth year is the 'shit-goes-down' year. I assure you everything will calm in sixth.

Sort of.

Favourite line? Favourite character so far? What're you looking forward in seeing? Lemme know! ;3