- Chapter III -
Bend the Spoon, Be the Spoon
"You want to talk about this then?" he asks slowly, looking up at my face. He twists his hands together, glances at them, and looks back at me.
I want to.
I really want to say something.
But I seem to have forgotten how to form words.
Also, my throat is dry.
My throat is fucking dry.
Why is my throat dry?
I cannot believe I am in this situation.
Me. Lily Evans. The Master of eloquence.
Me. The girl who hates James Potter.
The girl who despises the way he makes fun of everyone.
The girl who is repulsed by his arrogance.
The girl who loathes his attitude.
The girl who can't stand the messiness of his hair.
Or the way he makes it even messier by brushing his hands through it every five minutes as he pretends not to notice the entirety of the female population busting their necks too see him do it.
The girl who turns him down every time he asks her out.
The girl who hates him so much she can barely stand it.
I am, within one person, all of the girls mentioned above.
But, confusingly enough, I am also the girl who kissed him because she was jealous of him flirting with some other girl.
I'm afraid I'll never understand why my brain works the way it does.
"I…I – " Is the only thing that comes out of my mouth that can be classified as remotely making sense. Everything else is just an "hmmpg," or an "pleegh," or at one point, a rather unattractive "ooogh."
He just tilts his head and looks at me, biting the inside of his mouth and I'm suddenly aware that I'm standing there, looking completely idiotic. All of my limbs feel too large for my body, and I feel as if I'm floating in space with no purpose other than looking like an utter loon.
I think the smartest thing to do here is just to get my brain to shut down. "I think," I manage to croak out, "I think I'll just go to bed." I'm only able to take one step towards my room before my plans for a peaceful sleep are thwarted.
He steps in front of me and blocks my path.
Blocks my path with his big, annoying self.
"You're severely deranged if you think you're going anywhere," he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest and locking himself into place.
"Potter," I groan, vaguely noticing that I'm rolling my eyes, "I can't do this right now."
"Well you've got to," he bites back viciously, and I stand up a little straighter at his tone. I feel my expression turn outraged. It's not like this is my fault! It's not my fault I'm borderline insane!
"Fine," I snap stiffly, and step back, sitting on the side of the couch and crossing my arms, mimicking him. I tilt my head expectantly.
"Fine," he echoes, as he steps towards me, his shadow falling over the side of the couch and covering me in semi-darkness. For a second it seems like he's going to hug me, but instead he extends his arms and places them either side of my thighs, onto the surface of the couch, trapping me in my place between his forearms.
I think it's a suitable time to swear.
He leans into his elbows, letting them bend slightly, and I can feel his breath on my face as he speaks. "What happened tonight?"
He is so close his hair is tickling my forehead. He looks at me, unwavering, but I'm not about to surrender.
"What happened?" I respond, in the tone of voice I've practiced using so many times.
His eyes narrow slightly, but enough to cast a shadow onto his face. "You know what happened," he mutters, not breaking eye contact. He's not leaning in any closer, but the proximity is still enough to be unnerving.
"And what was that?"
"You kissed me."
A second passes and we're still staring at each other, his eyes expectant and somewhat self-assured as if he's trapped me into an answer.
I take a deep breath. "And?" I respond, as calmly as possible, shattering the tense silence.
He doesn't look amused. "Why?"
I swear, when I get my hands on that werewolf he's going to wish his parents had never copulated. In fact, he's going to be so sorry that –
"Ruthlessness Potion," I hear a murmur slip from my mouth.
This is a brilliant development. I've become so adept at multitasking my thoughts that I'm even managing to interrupt my own thoughts now.
"What?" He snaps, somewhat irately.
"Remus," I reply, "He put it into my chocolate. I ate it, kissed you, and now we're here."
I look up at him and catch his eye, waiting for the smug expression to change.
But it doesn't.
Why isn't it changing?
I just told a guy that I didn't kiss him on my own accord. That's supposed to hurt!
Right?
Right?!
He's silent.
Silently staring at me.
It's unnerving.
I'm becoming paranoid.
"Potter? Hello?"
"Ruthlessness Potion," he states, his eyes glazing over as he looks up as if trying to remember something. "That only amplifies something you already want to doesn't it? Brings it forward?" He says the words as if he's trying them out on his tongue, but then slowly, gradually, painfully, he looks down – content - and smiles at me – his full blown, I've-just-outsmarted-you-and-I'm-amazing smile.
Oh god.
I must be calm.
Zen. That's what I must be. Exactly. Like the monks in Nepal. Remember trekking in Nepal, Lily? You must be calm like the monks. Be a monk, Lily. A monk.
Ohhhhhhm. Ohhhhhhm.
Ohhhhhhmm.
This is really not calming.
Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.
My tongue seems too big for my mouth.
Do tongues grow?
I mean a baby's tongue is definitely smaller than mine.
You know what, that would be the final straw if I had a tongue that just lolled out of my mouth and onto the floor. Maybe I can incapacitate Potter with my tongue –
SHUT UP, BRAIN!
So, for those unable to track my thought process, I've just told the boy I absolutely despise above all else that I want to kiss him.
Maybe not jump his bones in the middle of the common room, but I've effectively told him that the internal desire was there for the potion to act on.
And that's not supposed to be coming from a girl who, until recently, wasted no time in telling him she hated his guts.
I'm feeling sick.
Ohhhh, I can feel my brain turning into soup.
Don't spaz, Lily, don't spaz. You can handle this.
Remember the monks.
Come on, breathe.
Ohhhhmmm.
Ohhhhmmm.
Ohhhh –
I look up at him, and manage to say "Really?" but my voice comes out all squeaky and high.
DAMN THE STUPID HELIUM!
He nods, the million dollar smile never vanishing.
"That's…" I gulp. "Interesting."
"Yeah."
Alright, I must remember what my mother told me to do at times like this. When talking doesn't get the job done…
Run.
And before he can stop me, I slip from under his arms, swivel my way through the common room as if it was an obstacle course, and successfully escape into my room and shut the door.
I'm not any calmer, and I haven't solved the problem, but at least I'm not kissing him.
I fall to my knees and slide to the bottom, my back to the wooden door.
So much for dealing with it.
It's all Remus's fault. I swear I'm going to kill him. I never would have kissed Potter under any circumstance had it not been for that stupid werewolf.
I'm going to –
Oh crap.
Footsteps outside my door.
Perfect. Just perfect.
Use your monk powers to will him away Lily. They can bend spoons. You can do anything.
Come on, Lily.
Ohhhmmm….
Bend the spoon, Lily.
Ohhhhmmmm….
Be the spoon, Lily.
Ohhhhhhhhmmmm…..
The steps are coming closer.
BE A MONK!
OHHHMMMM…
OHHHHMM…
He hesitates.
And then…more footsteps.
Going the other way.
He's leaving.
Thank you, Nepali monks. I owe you my teenage sanity. What's left of it, anyway.
.x.x.x.x.
I woke up. Feeling completely normal. Cheery, if that.
It was Saturday, what could be so bad, after all?
And it was a lovely morning. For about the first five minutes.
It later transformed into a living nightmare.
Only in my world, does that happen.
Oh, and only in my world, does your voice go away due to a badly brewn Ruthlessness Potion.
Oho. Remus will die.
If you're going to feed your friend spiked chocolate to get her to snog your best mate, at least do it right. Concentrate long enough not to mess up the sodding potion!
I swear, I can barely croak.
Ah, jeans feel so lovely and cold in the morning. I can feel the goosebumps on my arms.
Where the hell is my bra?
"Lily, are you in there? We need to –"