February 13th, 1977
Emmeline Kim preferred her mornings quiet and in solitude. Although she was one of the more energetic Hufflepuffs in her year, she still prided herself in her laid-back and fair persona.
Unless it involved her ex-boyfriend Robert Vance. Then, she was downright manic-depressive. But she wasn't thinking about him right now, or ever for that matter.
Like every morning, regardless of the fact that it was a lazy sunday, Emmeline woke up at six o'clock sharp. She beat the sun and made herself a cup of jasmine tea. Once she slid into her clothes, she left the common room and hiked her way up to the Astronomy Tower. She tried to make it there at least once a week, if not more. It was a time that she could clear her head of impurities and insecurities, and ever since she began doing this (towards the end of her third year), she found herself happier.
Sometimes Robert would join Emmeline, and they would shag with the sunrise. But, not anymore.
Once the Hufflepuff found her spot, she crossed her legs and closed her eyes. She concentrated on her breath - the relentless yet soothing in and out. The flow of her oxygen intake put her into a trance-like state, and Emmeline appreciated the way each inhale and exhale lifted her out of the confinements of her own body. This tactic always helped the witch hone in on our gift of sight. And now that she had one vision after her nearly four-month lull, she refused to ever let it vanish like that again.
It took practice though. When Emmeline saw the vision of her ex-boyfriend shagging the prissy Slytherin bitch, Lucinda Talkalot, it had taken a few hours of practice for even a ten-second vision. And that was quite the repulsive image.
But, Emmeline kept at it. She focused on her breathing only. When her mind would trail off, which was nearly inevitable, she'd remind herself of her task and gently bring herself back to her concentration.
It had almost been an hour when Emmeline decided that maybe two visions in one week may be pushing her supernatural capacities. She clenched her jaw and was nearly about release herself from her own trance when something pulled her back, like gravity keeping her to the earth.
Her mind became blurry of visions, like a fast-forwarded version of a family slide show. Emmeline couldn't grasp onto any specific image; she had to let it come to her. She tightened her fists as the feeling made her stomach nauseous, but she knew it would be soon.
And it was soon.
Emmeline found herself in a field of grass, surrounded by tall brown walls. It smelt like rain and sweat, and after a moment of utter silence, there were screams coming from the sky. She looked up and found herself in the Quidditch field, watching her peers zoom around the sky. She saw Ravenclaw colors clash against the Slytherins' colors. Within a second, she found herself cheering. Quidditch always brought out Emmeline's most competitive side, stemming from the fact that she wish she were a natural flier.
But, then she stopped because the fan-screaming stopped. It quickly transformed into shrieks of horror and fear. She looked to the stands and students (and even faculty) were pointing in horror. Emmeline squinted her eyes to get a better look, which was not a good one since she was so low. However, you knew what was happening from a kilometer away once you got a glimpse of the tragedy in the sky.
Dorcas Meadowes, as if she were possessed by some demon, was lifted off her broomstick and into the air. She hung there, like she was a statement or an exhibition. The players stopped and just stared at her in shock, before the unconscious girl was dropped to the ground.
Emmeline didn't get the chance to see if Meadowes landed on the ground or if a teacher magically caught her mid-drop. Her mind flashed different pictures again rapidly and before she knew it, Emmeline was in the same spot she was in the Astronomy Tower. Her breathing was short, no longer following the same rhythmic flow when she meditated. She pressed a hand to forehead and noticed the sparse droplets of sweat forming at her brow.
"Fuck," She panted, standing up. She wobbled a bit before she straightened up and exited the tower. Emmeline knew she had to warn her friends about the next attack.
"Come on, O'Harris!" shouted Fabian Prewett, attacking the second-year with pieces of colorful pieces of parchment; some were blue and bronze, and the others were green and silver. "Who are you going to bet on? The nerds or the racists?"
Joe O'Harris, a second year Gryffindor, gawked at the senior with wide eyes and blubbering mouth. He and his group of friends were currently surrounded by the gigantic and slightly intimidating Prewett twins.
"Ravenclaw has Xavier Lovegood," Gideon Prewett offered. "He's a mighty strategic Captain, despite not being all up their in the cabeza."
"Or you could pick Slytherin," smirked Fabian. He bent down to the twelve year-olds' level and said, as if telling the juiciest of secrets, "The only reason you want to put your money on them is for Dorcas Meadowes. I mean that. Talkalot Leadership is new."
"The girl's got quite an arm," Gideon added, showing off his own bicep.
"And a nice pair of wooblies, if you know what I mean," Fabian added with a wink.
"Oy!"
The twins both lost their concentration when the back of their heads were met with loud smacks. They both rubbed their heads and glared at the tiny prefect who would commit such an act.
"Stop haggling the students," Lily Evans glared. If looks could kill, the Prewett twins would've been dead five years ago.
Fabian rolled his eyes. "Evans, you'd be so much more fun if you lived a little."
"Living and bribing galleons out of second-years are two very different things, Prewett."
"According to you."
It was Lily's turn to roll her eyes, before she waved the twins away. Gideon maintained an indifferent look and re-focused on his money, while Fabian grumbled something rather crude. She looked down at the students and said, "Neither team is too good."
"It's because Gryffindors are the best, right?" smiled Spencer Brown, a small boy whose voice still reminded Lily that of a baby's.
"Yeah, we have Potter as our captain," agreed O'Harris, who seemed to finally find his voice. "And Black and Jones as upperclassmen!"
"Exactly," she winked before leaving the students to finish their breakfasts.
Quidditch Games always stirred something in the air, Lily noticed. Everyone was more talkative and cherry before the game, even if it wasn't your house playing. Lily, herself, enjoyed Quidditch, but mainly as a community gathering. She could never do it herself, because she knew that her body was meant to be close to the ground. However, she had to admit watching some players fly through the air like it was nothing was pretty cool.
Although Lily was making her rounds as prefect, she decided to stop by her friends section as they chatted and ate. And of course, it was about Quidditch.
"You must be out of your fucking mind," Marlene Mckinnon said coolly as she took a sip of her pumpkin juice.
"You know what I've noticed, Marlene," Remus Lupin said in an equally calm voice as he set his muffin down. "You tend to curse more when you feel threatened."
Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black let out immature chuckles. James just clapped his hands together, enjoying the bickering session that for once did not involve himself.
"Threatened?" Marlene scoffed, flipping her blond curls out of her face. "Me feel fucking threatened? Over my clan's rotting bodies. Fucking rubbish."
Remus raised an eyebrow. "See what I mean?"
Marlene glared and just sipped more on her pumpkin juice, while her friends laughed.
"Why are you lot attacking my friend?" Lily asked coyishly, putting her hands on her hips. "Do I have to deduct points? And from a fellow prefect."
"Oh, my savior!" Marlene cried dramatically as she wrapped her arms around Lily.
Remus put his hands up and said, "Just pointing out some of our friend's behaviors, that's all."
"We're talking about Quidditch," James informed Lily, giving her a wave. "Who'd you think is going to win today?"
"You're going to the match?" Lily asked.
"I always go," the Gryffindor captain said as if it were obvious. "The best time to take notes on training. Like formations and tactics."
Marlene, who finally released her friend, chuckled, "You're such a Quidditch groupie."
"There's nothing wrong with loving a sport."
"True," his cousin agreed, "but you, James Potter, are morbidly and unequivocally obsessed."
The speckled Gryffindor shrugged, because those words were nothing new to him. Also, they may have had an ounce of truth to them. Maybe.
"I don't know," Lily said, still mulling over the possibilities in her head. "The Prewetts were just trying to get the second years to bet, but made some pretty good points. Love good is by far a better captain than Talkalot."
"Anyone is better than Talkalot," Sirius laughed.
"Yes, but that's only true because Vanity dropped out to be Gold Digger," Lily clarified. "She may be brilliant for all we now."
"You have to be a good speaker to be a captain," Sirius continued, "not only speak about yourself."
"And do I need to remind you who your captain is again?" Lily countered teasingly.
The Marauders and Marlene let out "ooh"'s and chuckles. Sirius even patted Lily on the back for her solid diss at James, who just kept picking at his eggs. He looked up at her, unfazed by Lily's joke and simply said, "That's why I didn't get the job until this year."
"Oh come on, James," Lily laughed, "You still probably snog with your own reflection."
"What thirteen year-old didn't snog with their own reflection?"
"Me," Marlene and Lily both said together.
James scoffed, but said nothing. Sirius chirped up for him and said, "Well, Peter hasn't either, so I don't know what you're trying to prove, Ladies."
"Hey!" Peter whined.
The group laughed together and enjoyed the moment of normalacy at their school for witchcraft and wizardry. It did not last long because tiny Emmeline came running up to them.
"What got your panties in a bunch?" Marlene asked since she was the first one to notice her friend's labored breathing.
"V-vision," Emmeline stammered as she plopped down next to Peter. He offered her a goblet of water to catch her breath. 'Thanks," she said before gulping the whole thing down.
"Vision?" Sirius repeated. "I thought you were going… ah…well, I don't know what the fuck to call it… is blind suitable blind?"
Marlene gave Sirius the 'are you stupid' look? In the past two months, he's been receiving those mocking looks daily. He had half a mind to smack it right off her face, or kiss her face to death. He was still deciding.
"In a way," Emmeline shrugged, "but, they've been coming back. And I just saw something that you lot need to hear." She relayed the information on her vision in a matter of sentences, trying to be as concise and detailed at the same time. She didn't allow herself to be distracted by their shocked expressions either. By the time Emmeline finished, she was out of breath again.
Sirius looked to Remus with a blank face. "You're up, Mate," he said, clapping his friend's back once.
"Me?" Remus replied. "I thought we voted on you."
"Let's not revisit that pointless debate we had in the library. It was interrupted might I remind you."
Lily slammed her hands on the dinning table, causing plates and utensils to shake. It was a formidable slam for someone with chicken legs for arms. "Stop! We are not going to waste time playing Tag."
"What's Tag?" Emmeline whispered to Marlene.
"Muggle games have strange titles," Marlene observed.
"We are going to figure out who is the best candidate to do this, because Dorcas is actually already getting ready for the game. We're running out of time" Lily added quickly.
"Well," Peter began meekly, raising his hand like he was in class, "you two are the only ones with access to the Quidditch Pitch." He was pointing at James and Sirius. "So, it has to be one of you."
Sirius caressed the bridge of his nose and looked to his friends with his biggest puppy eyes. "Don't let her punch me again," he begged dramatically, whispering for effect. "This work of art can only take so much."
Marlene rolled her eyes. "You'll live for a few hours with a skewed nose; Madam Pomfrey will surely fix it. Now, just do it. You're the closest to her by default."
James watched his best mate and cousin bicker like a married couple, but just for a moment. Without a word, he stood up from his seat and jogged away. He didn't even look back when Lily called out his name.
The Quidditch Captain didn't stop until he left the castle and passed through the courtyard, which he slightly regretted due to his darkened lungs. (He needed to stop smoking with Sirius.) By the time he reached the pitch, he was gasping for the cold February air.
Madam Hooch always set up a defensive charm prior to a game - an invisible dome. It was a strong one and only the captains of each team knew it. The professor believed in quiet time before a game. James provided the password as he tapped his wand against the dome four times. With granted access, the dome provided a tall yet narrow passage for James to enter.
He didn't even check to see if Hooch was around to scold him and just ran up the staircase to the locker room area. James passed by nervous Hufflepuff students and wished them all luck. Naturally, he was rooting yellow over green. He passed by the Hufflepuffs' entrance and then slowed down once he reached the Slytherin area. A childish part of him wanted to set off a water charm in their room, and yes, he was still bitter about their win against Gryffindor back in November. But, he pushed aside his ego for once in his life.
James was even about to knock on the door like a bloody gentleman, but was interrupted by it opening on its own accord. On the other side was a petite brunette with a wide mouth, sleek ponytail, and a captain's badge planted on the breast of her dark green robes.
"What the hell are you doing here, Potter?" Lucinda Talkalot spat, looking him up-and-down.
James could've said a lot of things, but chose to say the wrong one. "Good to see you too, Talkalot," he lied, "I hope you don't fall off your broomstick today. February winds are ghastly."
Talkalot frowned at the boy, but said nothing. She was nosy and loud-mouthed, but she wasn't stupid.
"I need to talk to Meadowes," James added, less dramatically.
Talkalot scoffed. "Well, when you find her, let me know that I need to talk to her too."
He cocked an eyebrow. "You mean she's not here? They're opening the doom within the hour."
"No shite, Blood Traitor," she countered, flipping her ponytail back. "Now, will you leave us alone. If you find the mudblood, let her know that if she's not here in the next fifteen minutes, she's off the team."
James clenched his fist. He's never really had the impulse to hit a woman before, but suddenly, the urge was at the tip of his fingers. "You know you don't mean that," he said. "She's one of the best Beaters the school has seen in the past decade." He actually regretted adding his two-cents in. He couldn't help it sometimes, and it was the truth. But, wouldn't Talkalot kicking off Meadowes off the team solve serval issues?
The Slytherin opened her mouth to disagree, because that was the witch's nature, but instead, she just sucked her teeth. "Goodbye, Potter," she said curtly before slamming the door on the Gryffindor.
James turned on his heel and decided to make his way back down the stairs. Maybe Dorcas slept in, or maybe she was too ill to play today? It seems unlikely that a dedicated Beater wouldn't tell their captain if they were too sick. Or, maybe Dorcas had already been in the locker room. He wouldn't blame the witch if she stepped out of the presence of her teammates. Who knew what it would be like to be on a team with everyone hating you? How could she even survive on a team like that?
It took a moment for James to realize that it was probably the former captain, Emma Vanity, that kept everything under-wraps. James's chest clenched for the Slytherin, which he never thought would pass though his mind. Just thinking about it made him need a smoke.
Beat.
Well, that was a convenient association.
"Bloody stupid," James groaned as he rushed down the staircase, "you're so bloody stupid, Potter." He ran out of the tented stadium once he reached the bottom. He performed the exiting spell upon the Dome, which opened up the same passage through.
James did the same thing before games - a smoke to clear his mind. He'd watch it trickle and disappear into the sky, and James imagined himself doing the same when he would fly into the sky with his team. Dorcas read the Quibbler; maybe she felt the same about smoking.
And for a moment James knew it as wishful thinking, but then he saw a dark haired ponytail by a faraway tree. It was far enough that Madam Hooch wouldn't check, but close enough to the Pitch. He trotted over and called out to the Slytherin, "Oy, Meadowes!"
Dorcas Meadowes froze, probably afraid of it being Madam Hooch's voice. It was deep enough for a freight. She squinted her eyes and asked, "Potter? Is that you?"
James stopped running when he finally reached her and plopped down in front of her. "I've never run for a bird before," he said after a few labored breaths.
"I'm flattered," she said dryly. She dug into her pocket and pulled out her cigarette tin. He noticed the half-angel half-devil painted on the front, and immediately remembered Remus' retelling of Dorcas' story. "Want one?" She offered.
"Why yes, I would," James smiled, reaching out to pick a cig out. "Pre-rolled, very nice." He lit it with his wand and took a deep inhale.
Dorcas eyed her acquaintance as she took slow drags, using the silence to figure out why James Potter would run after her. It definitely was not just for a cigarette. She thought of letting down her mental wall, but thought better of it. "Potter, you're not too good at small talk," she said, "so let's just get this over with, shall we?"
"Can't I come wish you good luck?" He chuckled. She could practically smell his anxiety.
She snorted. "This should go down in the record books: February 1977, Captain James Potter wishes Slytherin Beater Good Luck! Madam Hooch will use to inspire camaraderie."
James couldn't help but laugh at that. "I'm rather obvious, aren't I?" he asked.
"More obvious than your crush on Evans."
"I'm not into her."
"Oh, sure. And I'm in the House that I should be. Anymore alternative truths to spew about?"
James wiped a hand over his face. Never has speaking to a girl been so hard, not even with Lily. Where was he supposed to start? James didn't think about that question when he ran in place of his best mate. There was less of a chance for James to be punched by Dorcas Meadowes than Sirius.
"Er," James mumbled, forming words with his lips like a fish out of water. "Ah… Well… it's a funny story, actually…"
"I'm dying to hear," she deadpanned.
James took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He looked to Dorcas, right into those piercing blue eyes and said, "Don't play today, Meadowes."
She remained motionless for what felt like a long time. She removed the cigarette from her lips and let out a puff of smoke. "And why the fuck would I do that?"
"I see the way you are in class, or rather when you show up to class," James started, not looking her in the eyes either anymore. He focused on the grass instead. "You're sick, fatigued, or whatever the hell is going on with you. Either way, you are not well enough to play today."
Dorcas let out a silent "wow," before blinking a few times.
"I'm not kidding, Meadowes-"
"Oh, the only one you're kidding is yourself if you really think that I'm not going to play today."
"Dorcas," he said in a stern voice that definitely surprised Dorcas, "Trust me, it's not safe… for you. Talkalot is going to tell you the same thing."
Dorcas frowned, "This isn't about my health."
"Of course, it is," James insisted. "You might faint or something!"
"And that's none of your concern."
James let out an irritated groan. "My friends care about you. Lily cares about you. Sirius cares for you, in a way. And Remus, well, he definitely wants you on the safer side, or by his side. Whatever works. And they're worried about you falling off your broomstick as a blugger hits your head."
Dorcas knew feigned concerned. I mean, her mother tried her hardest for a long time to pretend she didn't hate her whenever they were in the same room. It didn't work well on her mother's end, but at least, Dorcas learned to pick up on body language cues. And the way James was ruffling his hair was not a good sign.
"You're lying to me," Dorcas murmured.
"No, I'm not," he countered instantly. "I care about you too."
Dorcas decided that wasn't a lie; the glare in his hazel eyes was intense. "You're omitting something though." She tossed the butt of her cig and said through clenched teeth, "What aren't you telling me, Potter?"
"N-nothing, Meadowes!" James found himself wavering. Although he was a good liar, he wasn't a good consistent liar. It was hard for James to keep up a story, which is why he never preferred to lie unless it was absolutely necessary.
"Tell me," she hissed.
"Nothing to tell," he insisted.
Dorcas felt like kicking something, trying to control her emotions from lashing out at James Potter. And rage could make Dorcas incredibly messy. It made her tunnel-vision, and she couldn't even think straight. She just needed to know what the nosy Gryffindor was hiding, needed to know that he didn't know her secrets.
So, Dorcas Meadowes did something she has not done in a very long time: She let her wall down. Actually, she kicked it down with full force as if she were beating it down. And bloody hell did it hurt. It was like being drowned by the pressure of a broken dam. James' stream of consciousness, anything at the front of the bloke's mind, was now hers. Just like that.
Oh shit, why is she looking at me like that? Merlin, her eyes are big. Stop staring, Meadowes. Mum never told you it was rude to stare, aye?… oh, well, her mum wasn't best examples of maternal sensitivity.
Dorcas' eyes widened to the size of plates - fire red plates. She leaned forward, too close to his face. From an outside perspective it looked like an intimate setting between two students, but in reality it was rather uncomfortable for James. He could practically feel her breath against his lips. Under different circumstances and if he didn't know Dorcas Meadowes, this could've been rather nice. He watched her closely as she laid a hand onto his cheek.
What the fuck is she doing? Is she mental? Oh, Merlin, don't let Camilla walk in on this. She's always fucking triggerhappy.
Dorcas let out a groan and shut her eyes. She tightened them to point of tears, concentrating on getting further into James Potter's mind. She searched through his memories. She saw his one-on-one encounters with Camilla Henley late at night in broom cupboards. She could even sense that he would be rooting for Hufflepuff today, as expected. And Dorcas could also tell that Lily Evans still preoccupied most of James' thoughts. While she was digging, she heard something that grabbed her attention.
Oh, Remus is going to be livid if she finds out. This has got to end.
"Fancy the incoming stubble?" James asked. "I've been working on it." He was laying on the charm, and Dorcas could tell.
She popped her eyes almost, still fixated on James. She didn't remove her hand as she asked, "What happens if I find out?"
It was James' turn to be speechless; if his jaw weren't connected to his face, it would be on the ground. His gaze fixed onto her hand, and his brow furrowed.
Before James could ask what she meant, Dorcas shouted, "What am I going to find out, Potter?"
"You read my mind," James whispered, still in awe. "You… you can perform ligilmens."
Dorcas gulped. The witch was positive that Remus had spilled his secret to the Marauders about her telepathy. But, maybe Potter didn't know. Maybe, like always, she was being paranoid and assuming the worst. And thus, making it worse again.
"I-I'm sorry," Dorcas said hurriedly, standing up in the process too. Her chest began clenching, suddenly making it difficult to breathe. She may have just outed herself to one of the most popular prats in school. So, she did what she did best.
Dorcas ran.
James scrambled to get up. "Wait, Meadowes!"
"Just leave me alone, Potter," she called out, not looking back at him.
"You shouldn't play!" He tried again, trying to catch up to her. But Meadowes was fast. How does the bird smoke so much and still maintain that stamina. She didn't listen as she tapped into the Pitch andean towards the tented staircase.
James nearly caught her before the Dome closed on them. "Meadowes, just listen to me!" He shouted, but she was out of sight. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before shouting a litany of curses. He may have let one of the worst accidents in Hogwarts History just occur.
"Bloody fucking shite of Agrippa!"
Connor Greyson paced throughout an empty classroom, practically singing common English curses for the past four minutes and twenty-eight seconds. In the Great Hall, he had asked Lily to meet him here once she was finished passing out schedules for the incoming week. It shouldn't be weird to ask your girlfriend to meet up, but Lily always knew when something was wrong. Connor could tell by the glint in her eyes that she could sense something was fishy about her boyfriend's request.
Because it wasn't just fishy; it was more a kin to that of the giant squid that lurks about in the Black Lake.
Eventually, when his legs became tired, he sat on the edge of the teacher's desk. Connor let out a long sigh. Although he has never smoked a cigarette, he felt awfully inclined to do so now. The wait was practically shaking him a part.
Luckily, it was not much longer when Lily popped her head into Classroom 1A. She had a bright smile on as per usual and was no longer in her uniform. She changed into something more casual and comfy: jeans, a navy blue knit sweater, boots, and thick trench coat to weather the February cold.
"Hi," she said, running up to Connor. She gave him a kiss on the cheek before examining his apparel. "Aren't you going to the game?"
"Er," Connor hesitated as he looked down at his clothes. It was expected that Heads show up to every game, despite him not feel liking it at all. "I am, but I still have to change."
"Well, let's get you ready," she exclaimed, pulling him towards the exit by the arm. She was like a mother herding her child out the door for a school day. Always kind, always caring. It was too much for Connor.
"Lily, stop!" Connor demanded, pulling his arm out of her grasp. The octave of his voice not only surprised Lily, but also Connor too. "Sorry," he said immediately, "I didn't mean to raise my voice at you."
The redhead looked unsure of what to say, so she remained quiet. She approached a desk and leaned her back against it. "So," Lily said after a long pause, crossing her arms over her chest. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?" She thought whatever they were to discuss, it would've been mundane enough to talk about while preparing for the game. The fact that it wasn't - at least according to Connor - unnerved her.
The Head Boy took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his sore neck. No words followed.
"Connor," Lily said, softer. 'What's wrong? You're making me anxious."
"It's hard to explain, Lily," he sighed. He didn't want to overcomplicate things, but it seemed like they were already there. He had so many things to say, so he started with the most neutral and most honest: "I got into the American Program."
"That's fantastic!" Lily gasped. She rushed over to Connor and gave him a tight hug. She was so ecstatic for him that she didn't even notice his stiff posture. She twinkled her bright eyes at him and said, "I knew you'd make it! Oh, I'm so happy for you… but you don't look too happy for yourself."
"I am," Connor piped up. "I am, trust me. It's everything I've ever wanted for me and my family."
Lily raised an eyebrow. "Then why do you look like you just got an Azkaban entrance notice?"
This was going to be the hard part. He dropped his head, staring only at the skinniness of his polished shoes. The unsettling atmosphere was finally becoming too great for him, so he had to say it. "It means, I leave in June."
"Yes…" Lily agreed slowly, not quite seeing what that meant. "That's when the program starts."
"And," Connor added, this time looking up, "I won't know when I'm returning."
"Oh." There was another long pause. The silence filled the space with pins and needles, neither student felt quite safe. "Oh," she said again, putting it together. "You… you're concerned about the future… our future."
"Yes," Connor said, glad he dated a clever witch instead of a daft one who'd take eons to figure out what he had meant by that.
Lily was at a loss for words, because what the fuck do you say to that?
"I mean, you must've expected it. You knew I was applying to this program and what it meant for me. Surely, you must've understood that I won't be coming back."
"I-I did," Lily said, trying to assert herself but failing. She was still thinking too hard, letting off steam like a train engine. "I just… It just didn't click, y'know?"
Connor nodded in agreement. Another wave of silence filled the air as the two thought about their futures and each other. Suddenly, a peaceful end to the term seemed unlikely.
"What do you want to do?" Lily asked. The question made Connor's face drop and his eyes veer away from hers. "You already have something planned," she observed.
And the time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things. Connor always liked the quote as a child, but hated how he thought of it now. He looked up and said, "Wouldn't it just be easier to end it now?"
The straightforwardness in his tone surprised Lily. Her boyfriend was normally gentle and soft-spoken. He enjoyed beating around the bush, not plowing right through it. And even though the thought of being broken up with bruised her ego, she had to admit: she didn't feel sad.
"I mean, we could spend the last three months together," Connor continued rambling. "But, I don't think that's what either one of us want to do, but correct me if I'm wrong. I… I want to spend my last few months with probably more than one person, or just one person who actually wants me."
That snapped Lily's attention like a twig. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I beg your pardon?" She asked, trying not to sound curt.
"No, no," Connor sighed, "I didn't mean it like that. It's just that… well, I know how you really feel about me, Lily."
"Oh, do share," the girl spat, feeling oddly defensive.
Connor could see Lily's anger about sing, like a boiling teapot. He should've found a way to phrase it better, but he was getting antsy too. "I know that I care more about you than you care about me," he said simply.
"And how would you possibly reckon that? Are you in my head now?" Lily barked. "Merlin, Connor, don't put your insecurities on me if we're breaking up."
"Okay! Tell me, Lily Evans, and be honest," Connor countered, trying to keep his voice leveled, "would you rather be with me if I'm going to leave indefinitely in a few months or be happy?"
Lily opened her mouth to protest, but she couldn't because that would be a lie.
"See?" Connor motioned. "I know you better than you think I do. I see the way you look at him."
He may as well have smacked Lily in the face with that one. "What?" She asked, shell-shocked.
"Potter," Connor said, as if it were obvious. "Back before break, I saw it changing. I saw the way you look at each other-"
"All right, don't get ahead of yourself," she interrupted, "just because I don't glare Potter down anymore with potential hex threats doesn't mean that I fancy him! And Potter has stopped fancying me for a while. He's with Henley."
"And he's using her - consciously or not - to get over you, Lily."
"That's ludicrous."
"Is it? Is it so ludicrous that maybe James Potter did get over you, but only enough to get closer to you? He's changed too, and I think that was to get your attention. I bet he didn't even tell you I nearly punched him in the throat and shoved him off the Staircase."
"HE WHAT?" She shouted.
Connor scoffed and looked up to the ceiling as if he were going to converse with God. "I told you," he mumbled.
"Why in Agrippa's name would you do that?" Lily shouted, throwing her hands up. "Oh my God, you could've gotten suspended and expelled. Say goodbye to your Head Position for that matter. And your internship."
"It doesn't matter why I did it," He said impatiently. "The point is that I did it; I gave Potter every reason to go running to you, blaming me for his potential downfall He would get to be the Knight to you that he's always wanted."
Lily frowned. "I don't want a Knight."
"And Potter is aware of that," Connor said gently. He watched as Lily tilted her head in confusion. Before she responded, Connor went on, "He knew that you wouldn't be impressed by his tattle-tell and decided to keep his mouth shut instead."
She looked away from Connor's gaze and bit her lip. There were too many feelings stirring inside of her mind that she couldn't properly verbalize.
"Potter cares about you," Connor said as if he were commenting on the weather. "And you care about him."
"Stop saying that," she whispered. It almost sounded like a plea. She looked up at him and said, "Is this what you want?"
Connor paused before nodding his head. He watched as Lily let out a defeated sigh, or was it a scoff? "I want both of us to stop lying to ourselves that this relationship is working," he clarified. He leaned down and was about to press a kiss to her lips, but she turned away. Instead, he pecked her cheek. "You'll thank me for this one day… I hope," he whispered as he turned his back on Lily and walked out.
Lily didn't watch him walk out; she was still processing all of Connor's words. She felt like she was dropped into a Pollock painting; nothing was making sense. But, Emotional processing would have to come later, after she makes sure that Dorcas doesn't fall from the sky. When she finally moved from her spot, Lily let out a quiet scoff. "Me? Seriously fancy James? Ha," she mocked as she slammed the classroom door behind her.
A/N - I know some of you must ecstatic with this chapter (those Anti-Connor/Camilla readers!). It was time for Connor and Lily to take their leave. I personally enjoyed Emmeline's portion and Dorcas/James interaction. Please let me know your thoughts with a review, follow, or a favorite - they do mean a lot to me! Hope you enjoyed!
Rose