A/N: For those concerned about Luke's lack of "screen time:" have no fear. Not only does he get a whole TWO scenes in this chapter (in which he doesn't do a single relationship-harming thing!), but he has so much to do before the story ends.
Dislcaimer: JKR, friends. Also, a little credit should go to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, without whom about half of this chapter would not exist. "Cheated Hearts" makes my life.
I am reinstituting the recap, incidentally.
Recap: Luke Harper says 'I love you' to Lily, but she said isn't ready to return the sentiment. James and Lily agree to a sort of tentative friendship. Frank agrees to tell Alice the truth about "what went down" concerning pseudo-suicidal Carlotta Meloni.
Chapter 8- "Dates With Ravenclaws"
Or
"The Way We Were"
"You know, don't you, Lily?" said Alice. Before the dormitory door had closed behind her, the seventh year had entered the room, spotted Lily, recognized the sixth year's expression, and interpreted it. Lily nodded slowly.
"I'm so sorry."
Alice began to cry, and Lily closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Alice's shaking shoulders.
(One Week Later)
"Good morning," greeted Lily, yanking the bedclothes off Alice Griffith's bed. The seventh year groaned and rolled over, attempting to bury her curly haired head underneath a pillow.
"Go away!" came the older witch's muffled cry.
"No."
"Lily." Hestia Clearwater, Alice's friend and dorm mate, appeared from the bathroom and hurried over. Observing the situation, Hestia raised her eyebrows: "You're brave, Evans."
Lily smiled briefly, then returned her focus to the girl in bed. "You're getting up, Alice," she announced. "The mourning period is over."
"Mfgambpeemelphameep!"
...
"What?"
"I said," Alice began, rolling onto her back again; "it's only been a week!"
"You've barely left the dormitory," said Lily, crossing her arms. "When you're not in class, you're up here in bed."
"She ate an entire carton of whipped cream last night," Hestia informed the sixth year, and Alice scowled.
"Traitor."
"Al," said Lily, taking a seat on the edge of her friend's bed, "today is the first Hogsmeade trip of the year... your last first Hogsmeade trip. If you don't go, you'll end up regretting it, and if you don't go because of him, you'll end up regretting it even more."
"She's right," Hestia agreed. She sat on the other side of the bed. "Alice, I'll be with you the entire time. You won't have to see anyone you don't want to."
The seventh year sat up, brushing her severely disordered hair out of her face. "I can't!" she whined. "I can't handle everyone looking at me and whispering and feeling sorry for me... debating whether or not I did the right thing, or if it was my fault, or whether it's true that I tried to claw out Carlotta Meloni's eyes."
"No sane person believes that story," promised Lily, patting Alice's shoulder affectionately. "And don't you think they'll talk even more if you don't show? You don't want them to think you're hiding, do you?"
"To tell the truth," Alice confessed quietly, "I don't really care what anyone thinks. I just... I can't face him. And I certainly can't face her."
"You won't have to!" cut in Hestia. "I will make sure that no one crosses your path unless I give them explicit, written permission."
"You can go to the Hog's Head instead of The Three Broomsticks," suggested Lily. "Students hardly ever go there, so you won't have to see anyone you don't want to."
"We'll send a gullible third year to pick up anything you might possibly want from Zonko's," added Hestia. "We won't even have to go inside!"
"You could go to the post office," Lily went on. "The only people who go there are the first-timers. Or the Shrieking Shack..."
"I'm not going to the Shrieking Shack," said Hestia.
"Coward."
Alice sighed. "You two are being very nice," she said, "but I don't want to ruin Hestia's trip... you'd spend the entire day trying to get me to be cheerful... avoiding people I don't want to see and... going to the post office. I can't force that on you."
"Sweetheart," said Hestia, taking her friend's hand. "What I want—what Lily and I want—is for you to get out of this bed. If you're up here, unhappy, while I'm down in the village, I won't have a good time anyway. Nothing will give me more pleasure than if you're down there... looking fabulous and having fun."
"Looking fabulous and having fun?" echoed Alice, panicking. "No, no way. Too much pressure. I can't."
"Well, just looking fabulous, then," said Lily. "Or at least clean."She grabbed Alice's hand and pulled her off of the bed.
"But I ate all that whipped cream!" whined Alice. "I won't fit into any clothes!" She currently wore striped pajama trousers and a Hollyhead Harpies t-shirt that must have been four sizes too large.
"We're witches," Lily reminded her. "I'm sure we'll be able to come up with something."
(Geraldine: October, 1971)
Alice Geraldine Griffiths was not just a normal, thirteen-year-old witch. The golden brown ringlets framing her pretty, cheery face did not belong to an average girl. Her round eyes did not simply take in the world around her, and when she spoke, mere words were not all that she articulated. Alice Geraldine Griffiths was an angel.
That, at least, was Frank Longbottom's take on it.
Now, if only the unfortunate third year wizard could contrive a method of speaking to her again. That would, at least, show progress.
It had been so much easier being in love with the witch when they were only first or second years, Frank mused (as he glumly consumed porridge one October morning), because no one expected an eleven or twelve year old bloke to go about talking to birds. But their first Hogsmeade trip was fast approaching, and at least two others in his year had already asked girls as "dates." When Gideon Prewett—a fourth year, but one of Frank's mates—had asked him if there was anybody he'd like to take, only one girl came to mind, and she had golden brown ringlets and a smile like an angel.
Alice Geraldine Griffiths.
Perfection.
But from the moment that Frank thought of her like that, he found that the mechanism which typically allowed him to speak malfunctioned whenever the girl in question occupied a space within a twenty foot radius of him... somewhat inconvenient, considering he planned on asking her out, becoming her boyfriend, marrying her, and living happily-ever-whatever with her, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...
Yes, he would certainly have to master the whole "talking" thing... and quickly. Gideon said that some fifth year git named Logan had been flirting with Alice Griffiths, too. Frank would be willing to bet that this Logan prat didn't know her middle name. Frank, however, did. Alice Geraldine Griffiths really was a beautiful name.
"Sweetheart," Hestia Clearwater was saying, as she and Alice stood not far away, smiling madly, "I don't understand you sometimes. He's positively gorgeous."
"He's a Slytherin," Alice replied uncertainly, and Frank (who was shamelessly eavesdropping), squirmed at the knowledge that they must be talking about that Logan jerk. "He is pretty cute," she added, "but I barely know him. If I'm going to Hogsmeade with a boy for my very first time, I'd want it to be with someone I'm comfortable around..."
"If you were going with someone to be comfortable, you'd go with me," argued Hestia. "I think you should accept him. It's not every day a fifth year asks out someone two whole years younger."
"Well," answered Alice proudly, with a twinkle in her hazel eyes, "I am very mature." Both girls giggled at this.
"Anyway," Hestia continued presently, "I have to finish something for Ancient Runes. I'll see you in second period, alright?"
"Bye!" said Alice, as her friend hurried away. With a thoughtful little sigh, the young witch took a seat at Gryffindor table. She poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice and, without looking up from the goblet, said: "Good morning, Frank."
Frank pretended he hadn't been watching her. A soft ringlet bounced in front of her eyes. "Good mor... hi, Alice!" He winced.
"How are you?" she asked, smiling. "We haven't talked in ages..."
(Thirteen days, counting the time Frank had tried to speak with her after Transfiguration but lost his nerve and pretended to cough instead).
"I—I guess not." Well, at least that was technically a full sentence.
"I was beginning to think you were angry with me," Alice tentatively continued, watching him in her peripheral vision. "I mean, we were Potions partners last Tuesday, and you didn't say a word to me."
"I was... er... soar throat."
"Oh. I'm sorry! I hope I wasn't rude."
"No... no you were..." (Perfect) "...nice."
"Well, I'm... glad." Alice finished her pumpkin juice. "I had better get ready for muggle studies..." she said, though she remained seated.
"O-oh. Aren't you going to have your breakfast?"
"I already ate."
"Did you?" he asked, a little too enthusiastically. "I mean—that's... good. It's, y'know, healthy, to eat... early." Frank made a mental note to relay none of this conversation to Gideon or... anyone else. Ever.
Alice nodded, clearly baffled. She got up from the table. "Alright. I suppose I'll see you in..."
"Wait," Frank interrupted, also rising. She waited. "Are you going to Hogsmeade with that Logan gi... er... bloke?"
Alice blushed. "I hadn't decided. Why do you...?"
"I was asking because if you're not, maybe you would want to go with me?" said Frank, very, very quickly. Alice brightened considerably, which sent shivers down Frank's spine.
"As... as friends, you mean?" she asked, chewing on her lip.
His heart sunk. "Yeah. Yeah, of course, as… as friends."
Alice's pink lips frowned a little. "Well... I think that would be very nice," she said. "I'd like to go with you as... friends." Then she started to leave.
Frank slapped himself—literally and physically, because there was no way he could truly be such a stupid coward. He was a Gryffindor, for God's sake. "Wait, Alice!" he said again, hastening to catch up with the retreating witch. "I didn't mean that. I meant... what I meant was: I don't want to go to Hogsmeade as friends, I want to go like... like..."
"A date?" finished Alice, beaming. He nodded. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay, I'll go with you as a date to Hogsmeade."
"Really?"
"Yes!" Alice was positively glowing, as she reached out, took Frank's hand, and—leaning forward—kissed him on the cheek. "I'll meet you here around nine?"
"What? Yes. Yes, right. Nine."
"Okay."
"Okay."
She practically skipped away. Perfect.
(Present Day: Kathy Pritchard)
"Kathy Pritchard is very pretty," Sirius Black observed, sitting down across from an unhappy Marlene Price. The blonde sat—previously alone—at a booth in Hogsmeade village's Three Broomsticks pub, sipping butterbeer and looking as though her cat had just died.
"What do you mean?" Marlene asked, looking up startled. Sirius grinned at his fellow sixth year, while Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew also joined the pair in the booth.
"Kathy Pritchard is very pretty," Sirius repeated innocently. "That is Kathy Pritchard over there, right? The Asian girl with a blue scarf and a date?"
Marlene looked across the pub, clearing her throat. "Yes, that's Kathy Pritchard. I don't know what you're talking about, though."
"I bet you do," said Sirius. "Wouldn't you say so, Lupin?"
"Don't involve me in your use of teasing as means of self-elevation," replied Remus. Sirius frowned.
"What do you know about self elevation, Moony?"
Marlene rolled her eyes. "That's gross. Can this conversation end now?"
"I didn't know Kathy Pritchard was going out with Adam McKinnon," Peter observed casually, glancing towards the booth at which said pair sat, laughing over butterbeer and scones.
"Neither did I," said Sirius, with a significant look to Marlene. "Did you, Lovely Lady Price?"
"He might have mentioned something about asking her out," Marlene said simply. "And I think they make a... a very cute couple, you know. Kathy Pritchard is very pretty."
"Mmm, quite," said Sirius dryly. "What about you? Where's your bloke? I can't imagine a reason in the world that a pretty bird like you is deserted in the Three Broomsticks just now."
"I'm meeting Miles later," Marlene told him with dignity. "Why don't you lot have dates? And where's James?"
"Well," began Padfoot, "Peter doesn't have a date because he hasn't got the nerve to ask a girl, Remus is gay, and I feel that restricting myself to just one witch would be too great a deprivation for all the world's women."
"I have nerve!"
"And I'm not gay." Remus glared at his friend. "Ignore everything he says, Marlene. He probably smoked an illicit substance. James has a date with some Ravenclaw... that's why he's gone."
Marlene nodded. She found her eyes wandering towards Adam and Kathy's booth. "They... they really are a very cute couple," she said forcefully. The three Marauders nodded, not meeting her stare. "What? Why are you all being awkward?"
"We're not," squeaked Peter.
"Seriously, boys," said Marlene, "I'm fine. Miles will be along... soon."
"How soon?" asked Remus.
"Two o'clock."
"That's three hours away," Peter observed.
"I can wait," the blonde defended herself. "Miles and I aren't one of those couples that have to spend every second together, or that..."
"Like each other?" finished Sirius. "Honestly, Marlene, you could do better."
"Please. Miles is really smart. Plus, he's good looking and quite athletic." And she felt a surge or pride, knowing that all of this was true. The Marauders appeared less impressed.
"He's also noticeably absent, Marlene," Sirius pointed out. "Alright..." before she could argue... "Ten fingers." He held up his hands, and Marlene gave him a blank stare.
"Ten fingers?"
"Yes. Ten fingers. The game." Marlene didn't catch on, however, and the Marauder sighed. "Good god, what do women do when their drinking? You don't know the game ten fingers?" She shook her head. "We'll need alcohol. Hand me your bag, Moony."
"I don't have liquor in here," said Remus, handing the bag to Sirius nonetheless.
"You do, though. I put it in there before we left." Remus did not bother protesting. Sirius grabbed Marlene's now empty butterbeer cup and, withdrawing a dark glass bottle from the bag, poured its contents into the glass. The amber liquid reached the brim of the glass, and when Sirius set down the bottle, he once again held up both his hands.
"Hands up, everyone. You too, Wormtail." Remus, Peter, and Marlene all reluctantly imitated him. "Now, most of you know how to play, but for those who don't..." (with a significant look towards Marlene) "...I'll go first. I have never... had blond hair."
"Well, obviously," said Marlene. Peter, however, sighed wearily and took a drink from the goblet. He winced at the alcoholic burn, and then slid the glass along the table to Marlene.
"You have to drink," Remus told her, rolling his eyes at Sirius. "You have blond hair." Marlene scowled.
"This is a stupid game."
"Don't worry," Peter assured her, "It's your turn next." She took a drink of the firewhiskey, wincing as well.
"Now you and Peter have got nine fingers," Sirius informed her. "Whoever reaches zero fingers first is the biggest prat. And it's your turn, Price."
Marlene considered it for a moment. "I have never snogged a girl."
Sirius proudly took a drink, trying to prevent his other two mates to do so as well, which caused Peter to protest, Remus to roll his eyes, and Marlene to laugh. Adam McKinnon glanced over from his table, but she didn't notice.
(First Date: November, 1973)
"I'm in love," fourteen-year-old Marlene Price announced, collapsing into the only vacant seat at Mary Macdonald's Three Broomsticks booth. Mary laughed, and the other occupants—who were far less acquainted with Mary's best friend—exchanged bewildered looks.
"Everyone," Mary began, addressing her friends, "This is Marlene. Marlene, this is... everyone."
It wasn't really everyone, as Marlene observed a moment later. There was Ule Kellis (a fifth year that had a crush on Mary), Milton Shutterby (a Hufflepuff who had a crush on Mary), Derrix Pomfrey (a third year Ravenclaw who had a crush on Mary), and Adam McKinnon. Only the lattermost did Marlene really know, and even their acquaintance was merely casually passing. Nevertheless, Marlene nodded to them all, blushing faintly, because she realized that she had just declared her love to a table full of strangers.
"So," said Mary, when the table had finished murmuring their hellos. "I take it the first date with Miles Stimpson went well?"
"Very well," Marlene agreed. "Miles is fantastic. He knows so much about everything, and..." but that conversation would be better held in the privacy of the Gryffindor fourth year girls' dormitory; "...Everything. What have you lot been up to, then?"
"Mary was just telling us about her parents," Derrix said, sending a glowing look towards the witch in question. "Now—Mary, could you explain again exactly what a greengrocer does?"
Marlene was only too used to this kind of behavior when it came to her best friend. The boys positively flocked towards her. Perhaps that was why Marlene had so enthusiastically accepted Miles Stimpson's invitation to accompany him to Hogsmeade this weekend. Dates were something to which Mary received invitations all the time, but this was Marlene's very first, and Miles—the youngest member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team—had surpassed all expectations. He had a lovely smile.
"I've told you twelve times," replied Mary wearily. "I'm thirsty. I think I'll go for another butterbeer."
She rose, and so did Ule, Milton, and Derrix. "I'll buy it," volunteered Ule.
"No, let me!" said Derrix.
"Please, I would be honored..." said Milton. The three boys hurried towards the bar and Mary, who had not even picked up her purse, winked at Marlene, before following them. Marlene was left alone with Adam McKinnon—another fourth year Gryffindor and severely out of place in that coalition of Mary Macdonald fans.
"Hi," said Marlene, as the pair waited for Mary—and her club—to return.
"Hi," said Adam.
"How did you get dragged into this?" asked the blonde. Adam grinned.
"My best mate has a date with a girl," he told her. "And Mary was alone when I found her... we were talking when the other three showed up."
"Story of my life," sighed Marlene, but she laughed as she said it, because today... today nothing could be unpleasant.
"You were on a date, is that it?" asked Adam. Marlene nodded.
"Miles Stimpson. He plays Keeper on Ravenclaw."
"Right... he's a reserve, isn't he?"
Marlene, no less impressed, confirmed this. "He asked me to be his girlfriend," she added, because this news was too great to wait.
"I see. Well... congratulations."
"Thank you."
An awkward silence settled between the two for a moment. Marlene tapped her foot, wishing that Mary would hurry up. It had not been uncomfortable in the slightest with Miles, she thought. He'd had so much to say.
"I la-la-la-love the way you've cursed my name..." sang a voice over the WWN playing in the background. It was the new Cockatrice song and a current favorite of Marlene's.
"I love this song," she said, more to herself than to her companion.
Adam looked up from his butterbeer, clearly surprised. "Me, too," he said. "I didn't know you liked The Cockatrice."
"Oh, yeah, they're brilliant. Have you heard 'Spells and Spills?'?"
"Yeah! That whole album is fantastic!"
"Isn't it? Mary says it's dull, but I love the guitar solo on the fourth track..."
"'Round and Round?' Oh, yeah, that's genius. You know, you're probably the only girl I know that likes The Cockatrice."
"Lily Evans introduced me to most non-muggle music," Marlene admitted. "She has so much music; it's like going to a record store digging around under her bed. Do you like any muggle music?"
"I don't know any."
"I'll have to lend you some Pink Floyd. They've got the same sort of feel as The Cockatrice, only even stranger."
Adam arched his eyebrows. "That can't be possible."
"It is. Do you like Hate Potion?"
"Who doesn't? Their first album was the first I ever bought."
"Really?" asked Marlene, excited. "That's so funny—it was the first magic album I ever bought! 'Course, their second album wasn't as good..."
"No, but a few of those songs were really brilliant. Like..."
"'Unlucky Thirteen?'"
"Yes—that's my favorite song."
Marlene beamed. "You have good taste in music."
"So do you," agreed Adam, bowing his head. Marlene laughed, just as Mary returned to the table (with the three others, each carrying two goblets of butterbeer).
Later that evening, Mary and Marlene entered Honeyduke's candy shop, having managed to evade the former's entourage. "So what were you and Adam McKinnon talking about?" Mary asked casually, looking over a wall of chocolate.
"Music," Marlene told her. "He has good taste. I'm surprised I haven't spoken to him more. How was it you two came to be mates?"
"We're not, really," said Mary with a shrug. "I only know him a little. We were potions partners a few times last year."
"He seems cool."
"Yes," Mary agreed. "Of course," she went on teasingly, "he's no Miles Stimpson."
"No," said Marlene, idly looking at a box of Sugar Quills. "In the eleventh hour, I'm the unlucky thirteenth..." chanted the throaty vocals of a singer on the WWN. Marlene felt herself smiling. "No, he's no Miles Stimpson."
Adam McKinnon was something entirely different.
(Present Day: Acting)
There wasn't anything wrong with Daniela Prentiss. She was pretty, in a common sort of way. She was clever, in the archetypal fifth year Ravenclaw sort of way. She was funny, in a predictably quirky sort of way. She was nice, in a habitual, conventional sort of way. There was nothing inherently wrong with Daniela Prentiss, and yet the back door had never looked so appealing, as far as James Potter was concerned.
She hadn't inspired a genuine laugh once, and it had been three hours since the date began. Even Zonko's seemed duller than usual.
"Have you ever tried these?" Daniela asked, smiling in way that James suspected was supposed to be idiosyncratic. She held up a box of fake wands.
"They're a little prosaic," James admitted. "Funny every once in a while, but all together overused."
Daniela replaced the box on the shelf. "I agree," she said. "Oh, look, ever-bashing boomerangs." Hurrying towards the item, James saw his opportunity.
"Listen, Daniela, I need to use the loo across the street. I'll be right back, okay?"
"Alright," said Daniela, and James stepped out the front door. At once, he moved around the building to the alleyway and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a mirror.
"Sirius Black," said James. He waited, and repeated: "Sirius Black." A minute later, Sirius's face appeared in the glass. "You need to get me out of here."
Sirius squinted, as though trying to comprehend the message his friend had just relayed. "Okay?"
"What's wrong with you? Why do you look... weird?"
Sirius frowned. "I," he began, quite seriously, "am leaning slightly towards the intoxicated end of the spectrum. If you know what I mean."
"It's the middle of the afternoon, Padfoot."
"Moontail and Wormy and I played ten fingers with Marlene Price."
James raised his eyebrows. "Why do you play that, Padfoot? You always loose. There's nothing you haven't done, freak."
Sirius grinned. "Marlene is surprisingly innocent."
Shaking his head, James asked: "Where are you, Padfoot?"
"Bathroom. Three Broomsticks."
"Well, I need you to come and get me... pretend Moony's feeling sick and you need me or something."
"I don't know," sighed Sirius. "I'm kind of... dizzy."
"Padfoot."
"I have four fingers left," replied the other, holding up said fingers in demonstration. "It's neck and neck with Marlene. I'll... come on over when I lose. Or win. Or... lose." He frowned. "Right. That's what I meant. Bye."
Sirius's face disappeared from the mirror, and James, sighing, returned the object to his pocket. Resigned to facing at least another half hour with Daniela Prentiss, James started back onto the main street, and it was there that he spotted another potential loophole.
Lily Evans was walking up the street. She wore a plaid skirt, cream colored jumper, black wool stockings, flats, and a thoughtful expression. James was inspired.
"Hey, Snaps!"
She looked around, and, noticing James, quirked an eyebrow. "Hi, Potter. What's...?"
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him back into the alley. "I need your help," he told her, in response to the bewildered expression on Lily's face.
"O...kay?"
"I'm on a date..."
"Congratulations."
"I'm about to commit suicide."
Lily crossed her arms. "It can't be that bad. Who's the girl?"
"Daniela Prentiss."
"She's nice."
"And pretty and smart and funny," agreed James. "And bloody boring. Y'know how some girls try to do the 'interesting' thing? This one's been rehearsing it for weeks... I've had three hours, and I can't take anymore of it. You have to help me."
"How?" asked Lily suspiciously.
"Just run into Zonko's and say something like... Remus has had a spill, and he needs me."
"James…"
"Did I mention how I was approaching a loss of all will to live?"
"It's dishonest!"
"Snaps, the bird doesn't believe in handbags! What kind of person has a moral opposition to handbags?"
"I'm not going to help you lie to a girl," said Lily firmly. "It's uncharitable, and it would show a distinct lack of solidarity on my part. If you agreed to go on a date with a girl, it's only right that you follow through with it."
James rolled his eyes. "Did your parents know how it would turn out when they named you 'Lily Buzz-Kill Evans'?"
"I'm sorry," she said, and she sounded it. "Really, but I couldn't." Lily withdrew her arm (he'd been holding it the entire time) and sent him an encouraging smile. "Just hold out another few hours... then you can say you want to head up to the castle for supper or something."
"If I don't make it, make sure Sirius knows he's my best mate, and tell Remus I was the one who took the Chocolate Frogs."
"Stop being so dramatic," scolded Lily, amused. She started for the high street: "And... good luck."
Wearily, James returned to Zonko's. Daniela simpered at his arrival. "I've decided on a Fanged Frisbee and a few hiccough treats," she announced, heading for the counter.
"Wise," said James. He took out his wallet, and Daniela raised her eyebrows. She pushed his arm away.
"Please. Don't insult me!" Laughing merrily, she withdrew a few coins from her pocket ("Handbags are the tools of misogynists and stupid girls!" she had informed him earlier). "I don't believe in chivalry," Daniela went on. "In fact, I find that manners of all kind are obsolete."
James couldn't say he completely disagreed about the chivalry bit, but—mostly out of spite—he did not resist the urge to ask: "If manners are obsolete, then how could you be insulted when I attempted to pay? I mean, if there's no social standard for offensiveness, how could you have any standard by which you judge something to be insulting or otherwise?"
Daniela blinked. "What?"
"I..." but he reconsidered: "Nothing. Never mind."
Having reached the front of the queue, Daniela attended to the clerk, and James tried to imagine a way out of the situation. A few more hours... just a few more hours...
"Potter!"
Both the Quidditch Captain and his date wheeled around at the sound of his name. The door to Zonko's swung closed behind the breathless, windswept form of Lily Evans. James felt his stomach lurch in response to the fearful expression on her flushed face.
"Remus has had an accident!" Lily said, urgency surging through her words. "Sirius sent me to fetch you right away! I'm not sure what's wrong, but..."
James could have kissed her right there. Instead: "No, of course, I'll be right there. Daniela, you don't mind if I go, do you?"
Daniela, who was halfway through paying for her items, looked extremely confused. "Hang on a minute, I'll go, too..."
"You'd better hurry!" said Lily quickly.
"I don't want to ruin your afternoon, Daniela," James added. "Really, I'm so sorry... but I don't know how long this will be... maybe I'll see you at dinner?"
"Oh... alright."
"I'm really sorry," the Quidditch Captain added. "I hope this doesn't wreck your trip too much?"
"No, I understand."
With that—and a polite peck on Daniela's cheek—James followed Lily out of the shop, walking very quickly. Outside in the chilly autumn air, James waited till they were well past Honeydukes before he began to laugh. It was infectious, though Lily clearly tried her very best to restrain her own mirth.
"Just so you know," she said, attempting to frown: "I'm very disappointed in myself."
"Oh, obviously," he sarcastically replied. "Who knew you were such an actress, Snaps? I'm impressed, really."
"Don't rub it in! I feel guilty enough!" Lily half-laughed, covering her face with one hand. Her companion grinned at her.
"Sorry, Snaps, it's official: helping me out of a sticky situation, lying to another girl, faking an accident... you're practically Sirius Black!"
"Don't tease me," warned Lily. "Or I'll go back and tell Daniela Prentiss where she can find you."
"Well, that wouldn't be very friendly."
"We're not friends," Lily reminded him. "Except, as I remember, potentially."
"Fair enough," remarked James. "But, if that wasn't the reason that you rescued me, what was?"
Lily bit her lip. "I wouldn't have," she said, "Except that... I guess... I guess I just like handbags, that's all."
"Well... thank you," James said. "I owe you one, don't I? C'mon, I'll buy you a butterbeer..."
"Sorry," said Lily, shaking her head, "I should get back to Luke, actually. I just left for a few minutes to check in on Alice at the post office, so—y'know, he'll be waiting."
"Oh, right. In that case..."
"Thank-you, though."
"Yeah, of course. And... thank you, too."
"You're welcome."
(Really, Really: June, 1975)
"Please, Lily..."
"For the last time, Snape, NO!"
Lily Evans slammed the bathroom door of the Three Broomsticks closed behind her, leaving her Slytherin ex-best-mate devastated on the other side. The teary-eyed fifth year moved hastily towards the sink, turning on the tap and running her hands under the cold water for no real reason.
Don't cry, she commanded herself. Don't cry. Not here. Not in public.
But it was no use. Unable to restrain the tears, Lily hurried into a stall (they were all mercifully vacant) and began to sob. Why did he make her feel like this? Why did he have to make it that much harder? Why had the two days since the dissolution of their friendship been two of the worst in her entire life?
She knew the answer to all three, but it only made her weep all the more.
"Get a grip, Evans," she whispered (hiccoughing) to herself. "Get a grip on yourself. This is stupid. You have to get over this. You can't burst into tears every time he speaks to you!"
Slowly, Lily began to follow her own advice. Her tears subsided, and her breathing steadied. Knowing that she must be a mess, Lily exited the stall and made for the mirror. A little make up concealed the blotchy skin and red nose, but there was nothing she could do about her bloodshot eyes except wait. Unfortunately, the witch had little time. Luke Harper was waiting.
This must have been his worst first date in history, and Lily would be shocked if she was asked for a second. Sure, Luke was sympathetic enough, but Lily had departed their booth ten minutes ago to use the loo, and he must have been growing suspicious. Then again, it wasn't Lily's fault. How was she to know that Snape would accost her in the back corridor, repeating his pleas for forgiveness and incurring Lily's present state?
"I'll live," Lily announced to her reflection. "Luke Harper's nice, but if he doesn't want to date me, I'll live."
Forcefully holding her head high, Lily left the bathroom. Snape had, fortunately, gone, and Lily was able to return to her table with no interruption. Luke Harper, the handsome Ravenclaw sixth year that had asked Lily to accompany him to the village only last evening, awaited her with two, full butterbeers. He had waited until she returned to drink his own, and Lily noticed.
She smiled genuinely at the sixth year wizard. "Thank you."
"I thought you might have gotten lost," Luke attempted to tease, though jest was not necessarily his talent. He rose from his seat as she reached the table and sat down.
"No," said Lily. "I ran into someone, and they wanted to talk at that very second. I'm sorry—it was really rude of me..."
"Oh, not at all. I understand." Luke quietly sipped his butterbeer for a moment, before adding: "Was it that Snape bloke?"
Surprised, Lily nodded. So did he, and they were mute once more, till Lily felt obligated to say: "Listen, I don't think I ever thanked you properly for the other evening. I was... distraught, as you doubtless gathered, and just the fact that you were there... just the fact that you listened to be ramble for twenty minutes was... beyond valuable. So... thanks."
"Lily, I was happy to listen to you ramble for twenty minutes," said Luke. "I know what it's like to lose someone like that... I mean, not quite, but—I have a brother, and since he finished school, we've drifted apart. It's difficult, I realize, so if you ever want to talk about it, then I'm here for you." (He had such fantastically melancholy eyes). "But," the Ravenclaw continued, "I don't want you to feel like you have to go out with me, because I was your shoulder to cry on the other day. I really like you... I've liked you for a while, and the more time I spend with you, the more I like you. But if you're with me today just because you feel obliged on account of the other evening... then you don't have to stay. Truly, I understand."
Lily sipped her butterbeer to buy time. Was it possible that this Luke Harper could be as romantic as he ostensibly seemed? Was it possible that he could really be as sweet as all that? Was it possible that, not two hours ago, Lily had considered calling off the date?
Snape had not vanished from Lily's thoughts, but his presence was, perhaps, slightly less obtrusive. She was not a girl to lead people on or give false hope, but, at that moment, Lily Evans made a decision. It was impossible for her to fall in love, she knew, because too large a portion of her heart was devoted elsewhere. There was, after all, a reason that she'd never had a proper boyfriend before. However, all that did not mean she couldn't like someone a great deal, and no one in the world seemed more worthy than Luke Harper. She smiled at him.
"I really, really want to be here," she said. And she meant it.
(Present Day: Cheated by the Opposite of Love)
"Marlene, where the hell were you?" Miles Stimpson wanted to know, confronting his girlfriend as the pair met near the carriages. Marlene thought about it, her mind somewhat blurred by the drink and her head feeling the right amount of light.
"Miles, I am just a little drunk," she informed him. "Just a little. And you were very, very late. We went to the Shrieking Shack." Standing on her toes, Marlene wrapped her arms around the Ravenclaw's neck and kissed him (with intoxication inspired passion), which mostly made Miles forget the fact that he was somewhat peeved with the girl. At length, she pulled away and accused: "You suck at punctuality."
--
In a carriage nearby, James Potter was hiding with his fellow Marauders. "I'm confused," said Remus, drunk enough to be confused, but sober enough not to slur the announcement of it: "What happened with the girl you were out with?"
Peter, the smallest of those who had been drinking, found this amusing and began to laugh. Sirius rolled his eyes and muttered: "Lightweight."
"The—the—the g-g-g-girl he wa-was out with!" laughed Peter.
"So what happened to her?" Remus wanted to know.
"She's still alive as far as I know," said James. "But if you should happen to see Daniela Prentiss anytime soon, Moony, it would be brilliant if you'd mention something about getting ill in Hogsmeade."
--
"I had a good time," Kathy Pritchard said, as Adam McKinnon helped his date into a carriage.
"Yeah, me too."
"Maybe we could do this again sometime?" she suggested
"Um, yeah, maybe," said Adam, nodding. It hadn't been a bad date, exactly. Nothing exceptionally awkward occurred, and the conversation had been easily maintained. Kathy Pritchard was certainly very pretty, and maybe there was something that vaguely resembled chemistry between them, but...
It was either there or it wasn't, and...
(Kathy Pritchard's favorite band was Wizards Without Wands, and she didn't know a thing about muggle music. She didn't care about professional Quidditch either.)
...It just wasn't there.
"Look, Kathy, you're really nice," Adam began. "And I had a nice time today."
"But nothing is going to happen?" finished the Ravenclaw girl for him. Adam looked confused. "Please, Adam, you used the word 'nice' twice in that little statement. I'd have to be completely thick not to know where that was going."
"I'm... sorry?"
"Don't be." She kissed him on the cheek. "I had a nice time today, too."
"Good. I'm glad."
"But," Kathy continued: "you'll have to find a different carriage."
"Fair enough."
--
"So, listen," Lily Evans was saying, lacing one arm around Luke Harper's waist as the pair of them made their way up the High Street, "I was thinking how I've been sort of... distracted, lately."
"Oh."
"And there's a reason for that," Lily went on, "I don't want you to think that's your fault in any way. With school, and all of the... drama... I guess I've just been..."
"Distracted?" Luke finished for her, smiling. Lily nodded, mirroring his expression.
"I'm sorry," she reiterated.
"Well," said Luke, "I've probably been the same way." To tell the truth, Lily hadn't noticed. "I'm not worried. Actually, though, er—the way you started, I... I thought the conversation was going in a different direction."
"What direction?" asked Lily, innocently. An idea occurred to her: "Oh, you didn't think I was going to break up, did you?" she asked, half laughing.
"No, no, I..." Luke averted his eyes. "It doesn't matter."
"What was it?" Lily asked, her curiosity growing. "Tell me!"
"No, it's just... It's not important."
"Then why won't you tell me?" She hung on his arm, smiling because he was blushing so. "C'mon, Luke, I'm curious!"
"It's not important," he insisted, and his tone was serious. Lily was about to recapitulate her appeal, when it struck her what he must have meant.
"I love you."
"I can't say that back... It's not that I don't care about you a great deal... I just couldn't say that unless I truly, completely, unrestrainedly meant it..."
Severus holds a grudge.
"I'm afraid you've joined the ranks of 'bad girls' with the rest of us, Ginger... good girls say 'I love you...'"
"Luke," said Lily, holding her boyfriend's hand tightly in her own. "I'm really, really glad that I'm here with you." And she—almost completely—meant it.
--
"You survived," Hestia Clearwater observed draping her arm around Alice Griffith's slumped shoulders. "No discomfort... no awkwardness... just a nice, relaxing day in Hogsmeade."
Alice could not help but laugh, as the two girls made their way towards the carriages. "We sat in a corner of the post office playing Exploding Snap and Gobstones for three quarters of the day until the witch kicked us out," she pointed out. "You're going to pretend you weren't bored the entire time?"
"I wasn't bored!" Hestia insisted. "Really, it was nice catching up with you... I haven't seen much more than the top of your head for a week. Anyway, I bet we're the first people in history to be kicked out of the post office."
Alice smiled gratefully but was quiet for some time. "Listen, Hestia," she began. "Did I do the right thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... should I have just... broken up with him? Right there, on the spot, without... without even...?" Suddenly, Alice stopped: she stopped walking, stopped speaking, and—for a moment—stopped breathing.
"Alice, what's wro...?" But then, Hestia saw what Alice had already noticed. A short distance down the street stood Frank Longbottom. He leaned against the wall of a shop (Honeydukes) and was not alone. The Head Boy seemed to be conducting a serious conversation with Carlotta Meloni. Hestia grabbed her friend's arm, striving to pull her away. "Alice, c'mon, let's..."
"He said he didn't love her," Alice murmured, breathless. "He said he didn't like her. He said he would never speak to her again if I just..." She closed her eyes. "I have to go."
Turning, Alice hastened in the opposite direction.
(November 11th, 1972)
"Do you trust me?" asked fourteen-year-old Frank, and though her eyes were closed, Alice could hear the smile he wore.
"Yes," she said. "Though I don't know why... if I trip, I swear to Merlin, I'll..."
"You're not going to trip," Frank promised, guiding her with his hand. "Just hold on, and we'll be there soon."
"And why is all this secrecy necessary?" his girlfriend asked. Despite her protests, however, Alice felt a thrill of anticipation in her spine. She could not keep the smile from her lips.
"It's not necessary," said Frank. "I just like the idea. Watch your step, here..."
Alice cautiously stepped forward and found that the ground beneath her feet was no longer stone, but soft like grass. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she teased.
"No. Not intentionally, anyway."
She tried to swat him, but missed because... her eyes were closed.
"Alright, we're here," he announced at last. "You can look now."
Alice opened her eyes and took in the scene around her. The pair stood at the top of a low hill, just outside the proper Hogsmeade area. A field of tall green grass stretched out before them, and wildflowers grew all around. Alice looked at her boyfriend.
"This is pretty," she said. "But I'm not sure it was worth all the hype, Frank."
Frank rolled his blue eyes. He placed his hands on her hips, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you," he said. Alice stopped: she stopped smiling and—for a moment—stopped breathing.
"Really?" she asked.
Frank nodded. His uncertainty about her response showed clearly on his face, but Alice was too agitated to shatter his doubts at once. At length, she found that she was smiling again. The fourteen-year-old witch stood on her toes and kissed him.
"I love you, too," she told him.
"Really?"
"Yes."
"And was it worth all the hype?"
Alice beamed. "Undoubtedly."
(Three Years, Four Days Later)
Before the dormitory door had closed behind Lily, the redhead was at Alice's side. The seventh year lay in her bed, covered up to the collarbone by her blankets. Her eyes were red from tears.
"Hestia said you were..." Lily began, but she stopped. The sixth year took her friend's hand. "I'm so sorry—I shouldn't have made you... Alice, I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault," coughed Alice, sitting up. "You did the right thing, really, but I... I just... I can't see him like that... and I..."
"I heard," interrupted a new voice. Marlene appeared at the door, with a bag in hand and a determined expression on her face. She held up the bag. "Chocolate," she said. "And firewhiskey."
Alice smiled a weak, watery smile. Marlene also took a seat on the bed. "You're going to be okay," said the blonde.
"You're going to be okay," agreed Lily.
And once again, Alice began to cry.
A/N: The real story here: where the hell is Donna?! I haven't the faintest... she just didn't make it into the chapter today....
PLUG ALERT: I have a one-shot called, but not necessarily about, "A Tree." It's about nothing at all.
Thanks so much to the anonymous reviewers Katie, Annabell, and Queen Moanna. You, and everyone else who reads and reviews, are fantastic!
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Jewels