thirty-six – kindly
The students file into the Potions classroom behind Slughorn, most chatting idly. Severus is surrounded by a swarm of Slytherin housemates but doesn't talk to any of them; Lily is determinedly avoiding his gaze and keeping next to Anna and Judy.
With an annoyed glance in her friends' direction that she hopes Lily doesn't see, Mary dumps her satchel on the workbench next to Severus and pulls out the stool. She plonks herself on it and stares ahead, chin resting in her palm.
"Don't talk to me," she tells him airily, and he promptly closes his mouth.
A grateful smile is sent Mary's way by Lily as she scoots into the seat next to Jude.
"She hates me, I can tell."
"No, she hates him, Lily." Judy pulls out her parchment. "Just ignore it."
Reluctantly Lily takes Mary's usual seat and sets out her things, and the professor looks up as she tucks her stool in. "Miss Evans!" Slughorn says heartily, surprised. "Unless my eyes are deceiving me, you appear to have swapped places!"
At the teacher's voice, the majority of the class had stopped talking and turned to face the front, but Lily and Severus are a hot topic for the assorted Gryffindors and Slytherins, most of whom had either been down at the Lake or heard what happened. When Lily clears her throat to answer, a pin drop could be heard in the dungeon.
"I hope you don't mind, Professor," she says, forcing a smile, "but Judy has needed some help since we've started the N.E.W.T. course and it seems Severus is perfectly capable of working alone."
Lily refuses to meet the boy's eye as Slughorn chortles jovially. "Hm, that's brilliantly kind of you, m'dear."
"Alright?" Jude hisses from beside Lily, keeping her eyes fixed on the professor.
"Yeah," says Lily half-heartedly. "Thanks, Jude. I owe you."
"Don't mention it," the other replies kindly, and squeezes Lily's hand briefly.
As the rustle of pages turning fills the dungeon, the girl sitting on Severus' other side speaks in a voice just loud enough for the class to hear without the well-trained ears of Slughorn catching her words.
"Don't worry about her, Sev," says Mariella, pushing her dark, curly hair over her shoulder and throwing a smirk in Lily's direction. In a stage whisper: "You have better people to spend your time with."
In the row behind Lily, James' fingers itch for his wand. Oh, the things he would do to hex every one of the Slytherins to the Quidditch Pitch. As if sensing his friend's anger, Remus places a hand on James' arm and nods to the redhead, who's sitting straight upright and stock still, jaw clenched. She's focusing on the chalk scratching across the blackboard with the odd screech now and then, on the flow of black ink coming from her quill.
As she dips her quill into her inkpot, Lily's sure she hears a harshly whispered conversation from the workbench behind her where Sirius and James sit, but she ignores it. The girl turns her attention back to the board, but she can't seem to get the boy with messy black hair out of her head. He's everywhere at the moment: muttering behind her in Potions, offering her a drink at mealtimes; cockily coaxing congratulations from her mouth after a spectacular Quidditch win, comforting her in the corridor - what was it he'd said? I don't want to hurt you.
He can be an arse at times, but Merlin, the boy drives her mad.
The lesson progresses without much interruption – the theory is much heavier now they've started the sixth-year syllabus having had their Potions O.W.L, and consequently there is little time for the strange noises whirring from cauldrons, or one too many drops of salamander bile resulting in an explosion and much hilarity – but about halfway through Robbie Vane, the Head Boy, pokes his head around the door.
"Sorry to interrupt, Professor," he says.
"Not at all, not at all, my boy," cries Slughorn, ushering the Gryffindor into the classroom.
"Professor McGonagall wanted a word with one of your students and sent me to fetch her." At this, Jude, Anna and Mariella all sit up straight. "Is Lily here?"
Lily glances up at Robbie, who she patrols with on the odd occasion, and sighs.
"Yeah," she says, beginning to pack up her books. With a sinking feeling she slides them into her bag, knowing her Head of House can only want to talk about one thing.
She pushes the stool under the workbench and excuses herself from the class, following behind the Head Boy, ignoring the dirty looks Mariella is throwing her, and before she goes she risks a glance in James' direction. He's smiling at her.
(She smiles back.)