forty-three – ridiculous

Lily reaches over, attempting to grab the curling tongs from Mary.

"Look, I need them more than you do! I have a date," she says loftily. "So give 'em."

"You have a date with your boyfriend," the other reminds her, "and he wouldn't care if you turned up starkers in your granny's slippers. In fact," she muses, "he'd probably prefer it."

The redhead narrows her eyes and picks up her wand, aiming the Heating Charm at the tongs. It was the only solution they'd found to the problem of Muggle electric appliances going haywire around magic.

"Accio curling tongs," Lily mutters, and Mary yelps as they fly out of her hand, the loose plug hitting her wrist.

"Uncalled for," she declares, and pokes her tongue out at her friend.

There's a groan from a bed with the hangings shut, and a hand peeps out and chucks a pillow at them.

"Would you be quiet? It's the middle of the bloody night."

"It's nine o'clock, Anna, so shut your face. We have places to go and people to see."

With much muttering from Anna and the occasional fight over the contents of the make-up bag between Lily and Mary, the girls are finally ready and make their way down to the common room. A slight twinge hits Lily's stomach when she notices James isn't there, but Mary squeezes her hand as if she knows what her friend is thinking.

Lily gives her a look and climbs out of the portrait hole with butterflies floating in her tummy. Really, Mary tells her, you're being ridiculous.

Peter dashes over to them as they descend the staircase to the Entrance Hall.

"Lily – Lily! Hi – sorry – uhm – James wanted me to tell you that he'll meet you in the village because he's been held up. He's really sorry. He thinks you're going to murder him. No, really, Lily, he was almost hyperventilating. Don't tell him I said so."

The girls giggle and Peter smiles, glad he's conveyed the message, and they walk to the carriages. Lily sits in silence during the ride while Mary and Pete chat mindlessly, the girl informing him of the sordid details of her relationship with Reg, the boy occasionally wincing, but Lily tunes it out.

He wouldn't stand her up, would he?

Lily hops down from the carriage and trudges off to the Three Broomsticks, dread weighing her down. She finds a seat in a corner booth and slides into it, resting her chin in her palm. She feels rubbish, and when she looks up the new arrival doesn't make her spirits rise.

"You're really doing it then?"

"What?" she asks acidly, as he drops into the empty seat opposite her.

"Going out with him. Letting him be with you. Letting him touch you."

Lily rolls her eyes.

"I really don't think you're in a position to lecture me about whose company I spend my time in, Severus."

"You used to hate him."

"People change. You did," Lily shoots back. "James has grown up, and I like him. He likes me too, and he respects me, and he stands up for me, Sev. I'm happy. And if you really want to deny me that, our friendship obviously didn't mean as much to you as it did to me."

Now it's Severus' turn to roll his eyes. "You're not happy, Lily. You're fooling yourself." The door to the pub bangs open and he glances up. "You'll see."

Lily ignores him and turns to the other black-haired boy on his way in, forcing a bright smile to her face. Severus scowls and leaves, and James tries – he really, really tries – not to punch the bugger in his hook-nosed face.

He manages it too.

James motions drinking to her and she nods. He signals to Rosemerta for two Butterbeers, glancing back at his girlfriend. She seems downcast and he frowns, thanking the barmaid and carrying the drinks over.

"Hi," he grins, and she takes her glass.

"Hi," she intones, and he takes her hand.

"What's wrong?"

Lily says, "Nothing," and takes a gulp of Butterbeer, washing away her hard feelings with the drink. He's here, after all, like she always knew he would be – he'd never been late before – and he's holding her hand and his eyes are searching hers and his warm skin tingles on her fingers.

It's just James.

She smiles. "Nothing."