Ch 2: Welcome Back
"I mean, it's official, isn't it? Dumbledore's completely lost his mind. I always thought this day would come," I conclude, nodding along with my musings. "I mean, really, who in their right mind would make ME Head Girl and then decide, 'You know who that unstable bird Lily Evans would lead really well with? That tosser James Potter. Ah, yes. The perfect pair to lead our student body.'"
Marlene snorts. Emmeline sighs. Alice rolls her eyes.
"Really, Lily, I think you're underestimating yourself. AND James," Alice says.
Now it is my turn to snort. Alice can only say that because she is related to him in some distant fifth-cousin way all purebloods are. She and James have always been casually friends as a result of bumping into each other at Wizarding events all growing up. However, I can't say the same for my mates Marlene and Emmeline, who nod in agreement. Unfortunately, not even they are immune to the James Potter charm. I just really don't understand.
"No, listen!" Alice presses on. "No one's really surprised you're Head Girl, Lil. You're top of like every class –"
"Not every class," I grumble under my breath. Transfiguration will make me sell my soul to Salazar Slytherin's ghost who is certainly roaming the deepest pits of Hogwarts looking for Muggleborn souls like mine to devour.
"– AND you're like every teacher's favorite student…"
"Hello! Are you forgetting Transfiguration?!" I say, louder this time.
"…AND EVERYONE really respects you. Really no one's surprised! And as for James…"
I give my heaviest, most agonized sigh.
"…I mean it's a bit of a surprise since he wasn't a prefect but it's not impossible, is it? And James has been top of classes right there with you…"
Another agonized sigh. Just another reason the prat bothers me so much. Not only is he a reckless, arrogant slacker, but he STILL manages to excel in all our classes. Especially Transfiguration, which is just the WORST and the HARDEST and the stupid git doesn't even have to STUDY. Aaaaaggggghhhh. It's enough to drive any self-respecting, studious witch up the wall. And I'm that witch. Sometimes.
"And like it or not," Marlene breaks in, rolling her eyes, "James has grown up quite a lot in the last year. And he was made Quidditch Captain last year, so he does have leadership experience, even if it's not the traditional prefect type."
I snort. There's only so much growing up a person can do. I'd lost Marlene to the James Potter charm at the beginning of last year when she won a spot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team under Potter's leadership. Apparently, things can get chummy between all that practicing and team meetings, and Marlene is all pro-James now.
"You two will do just great," Emmeline, ever the optimist, concludes. I shake my head, disappointed in her. Emmeline's the one who is most often on my side when it comes to Potter, but while she thinks he's a bit of a show-off, she also thinks I'm skewed in my completely antagonistic views of him.
"You guys are all the worst," I moan. I'm sitting upside down in my seat, my head dangling off the edge of the seat, long red hair reaching for the floor, my legs propped against the wall of the compartment, crossed at the ankle. "And I can't talk about this anymore. I'll just have to have it out with Dumbledore at the feast."
"The feast…" Marlene sighs wistfully, massaging her stomach. "Merlin, I'm hungry."
Alice laughs. "The trolley came by just an hour ago! And you ordered practically half the cart!"
"But that was a full hour ago," Marlene whines. "Emmeline..."
"No!" Emmeline's been slowly preserving her Chocolate Frogs since she bought them an hour ago and still has several left in a careful pile next to her.
"Lily's right, you're all the worst."
Alice and Emmeline laugh and I can't help join in, watching them all affectionately. For all my moaning and whining, I really do have the best mates in the world.
We're four of the six seventh year Gryffindor girls. Alice and I clicked right away. Emmeline quickly made our duo a trio, but we all struggled with Marlene initially. Marlene has a… err… strong personality and quite intimidated us for the first bit of our first year.
But then there was a weekend when all the upperclassmen were at Hogsmeade and we first years (that is to say, me, Emmeline, and Alice) were struggling over a particularly grueling Transfiguration assignment in the library and making absolutely no progress when Marlene plopped herself down right at our table. "Merlin! That transfiguration essay was perfectly horrid!"
But she'd completed it. And she helped the rest of us through it. Marlene might struggle generally more than the rest of us at school, but she's a right whiz at Transfiguration. Several hours of giggling and sharing work and talking later, Madame Pince all but chased the four of us from the library and Marlene had wormed her way into our trio, completely our group.
So that is us. Marlene is loud and confident and funny. She can be brash at times, but she is loyal to the core and ready to whip out her wand to defend any of her friends, which
admittedly includes a lot of people. She is medium height with tight, tawny curls that bounce just above her shoulders and has the most adorable smattering of freckles over her nose that are quite at odds with her sometimes abrasive personality. She is a ball of energy and had proven herself a superb Chaser in the last year.
Emmeline is tall and willowy with long blonde hair. She is the most studious of all of us, and the quietest. She excels at pretty much everything and is the most perfectly respectful girl you ever did meet. Emmeline is also the most reasonable of all of us and typically the one we seek out for solid advice and a good heart-to-heart. How I ever got chosen as prefect over her 5th year I never will understand.
And though I love my mates all with all my heart, Alice is probably my best mate. We don't have much in common – she's grown up pureblood and I'm Muggle-born. She's nearly as sensible and steady as Emmeline and I am…just not. I'm a firecracker. Alice does have a mischievous streak to her, though. Probably those distant Potter genes coming through. She is short and soft-looking with a round face and wide blue eyes framed by dark blonde hair, cut nearly as short as a boy's.
We spend the rest of the train ride eventually convincing Emmeline to share her chocolate (she really is far too kind to be in this friend group) and comparing the subjects we're all taking. When darkness starts to fall outside the windows, we change into our robes. I try to be surreptitious when I use my reflection in the train window to check that my Head Girl badge is pinned on straight, but Alice catches me anyways and flashes me a smile.
And then the train is stopping at Hogsmeade Station and we're boarding the horseless carriages and we round a corner in the road and . . . there it is. Hogwarts. Standing tall and strong, silhouetted against the star-splattered sky and looking just as magical and wonderful as when I first saw it at eleven. All the things I'd been told I'd do and learn there, my best friend at my side... well. It's good to be back. And though I love my house with my parents and, yes, even Tuney, returning to Hogwarts feels a little like coming home.
"...and I'm pleased to introduce our new Head students this year, Miss Lily Evans of Gryffindor -" Professor Dumbledore pauses to let the light applause echo in the Great Hall. "- and Mr. James Potter, also of Gryffindor." He gestures at the two of us to stand as, yet again, Potter's name gets way more of a reaction than is necessary. I blink a few extra times to keep from rolling my eyes and stand, a little uncomfortable by all the eyes on me. My mates are all beaming at me and everyone at the Gryffindor table seems pleased, thank goodness, but my gaze catches on a student at the Ravenclaw table nudging her neighbor and a knot of Slytherins whispering together. It's not about you, I tell myself. I see one of the Slytherins point at me, still whispering behind her hand, and sigh. Okay, it's not all about you, I rephrase.
We're still standing. Professor Dumbledore continues. "Mr. Potter and Miss Evans are both talented and responsible students who will be happy to point you in the right direction when you inevitably get lost and will be wonderful assistants to the staff in helping our school year run safely and smoothly. Do not be afraid to approach them for help." More light applause. Potter is smiling at me from where he stands, further up the table, so I give him a half-hearted smile in return. Probably shouldn't look like I dislike him too much in front of the entire Hogwarts population. Although, come to think of it, most of them probably know anyways. Some of our stand-offs are near legendary around here.
Professor Dumbledore starts going through Filch's lengthy list of banned items, so I figure I'm safe to sit again. Potter shoots me one more smile as we sit back down. Now that we're out of the proverbial spotlight, I feel okay frowning back. His smile only grows, and then he turns back to listen to Professor Dumbledore.
At the head of the room, Dumbledore finally takes his seat and Professor McGonagall beckons the procession of first years forward, setting a three-legged stool directly in front of the Head Table. The new students form a clumsy line in front of it, looking nervous.
"Finally, the Sorting," Marlene groans. She looks longingly at the empty gold dinnerware on the table in front of us.
"Like you didn't end up eating most of my chocolate frogs," Emmeline hisses. Alice muffles a laugh into her sleeve.
I'm staring intently at the hat, as are most of the other students in the Hall. "Shh!" I shush them, and just in time.
The large tear near the brim of the hat opens wide, and the hat begins to sing.
It sings about its beginning and the founders, briefly detailing each House's signature traits, just like it always does: courage and daring for Gryffindor, wit and wisdom for Ravenclaw, loyalty and acceptance for Hufflepuff, cunning and ambition for Slytherin. Then it takes an unprecedented detour.
The hat sings about how the need for strength of character has never been stronger. Whatever Houses we belong to, we need to unite for good and face the rising darkness from all around. Here at Hogwarts, we learn to fight and defend.
I stare wide-eyed across the table at Alice and Emmeline and see my own trepidation echoed in their expressions. "Whoa..." Marlene whispers next to me, the word more a shocked exhalation than anything else.
The song ends and the hat falls still once more. There's a beat of silence before the room breaks into uncertain applause. I actually think Dumbledore had to be the one to start the clapping. I can't help but send a glance up towards Potter. His head is bent forward, huddled close with Remus, Pettigrew, and Black. They're whispering intently. But then, almost like he can sense me looking, his head turns to me. He lowers his eyebrows and gestures with a tilt of his head, almost like he's asking, what do you think? But I just shake my head and shift my gaze back to the front of the Hall.
McGonagall moves methodically through the new first years, calling them up to place the Sorting Hat on their head alphabetically by last name.
"Allen, Theodore!"
McGonagall's all business, like the Sorting Hat didn't just deliver an actual Doomsday prediction. Allen becomes the first new Gryffindor, and already the applause is a little
more enthusiastic than before.
Good on you, Min. Get things rolling. No need to alarm the first years more than they already are. Or the rest of us. I glance around at all the other students, already seated at their House tables, many still clearly unsettled from the Hat's song. Frank Longbottom, just a few seats down from us, absent-mindedly drums his wand on the table, not noticing the green sparks sputtering out with each tap. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Julie Mackey and Angela Stoker have turned all the way around, leaning into the aisle to talk with a few of the Hufflepuff prefects, all of them sending the Sorting Hat anxious looks. Even the Slytherin table's usual blasé attitude has been disrupted; while most of them don't look as perturbed as the rest of us, many are looking pensive. Gareth Avery whispers something into Hilda Wilkes's ear, and she nods slowly.
But the normalcy of the routine of the Sorting seems to have a calming effect as it progresses. I relax as I focus on the Sorting. It's not like we don't know we're in dark times. And watching these little kids – Merlin, are they titchy! - brings back all the warm, fuzzy nostalgia of my own Sorting.
I hadn't really had any sort of preference as to which House I wanted to end up in. Honestly, they'd all sounded lovely. I was only worried, because I didn't see myself as particularly brave, smart, hard-working, or ambitious. What if the Sorting Hat couldn't find a House for me?
But he'd only deliberated in my ear for a moment.
"Very sharp, no doubt. And a wealth of potential. But there's no question where you're meant to go... GRYFFINDOR!"
Meeting Alice right away over dinner at the Gryffindor drove away any lingering uncertainty. Gryffindor was definitely where I belonged. Even if I wasn't thrilled by all the company at the Gryffindor table...
Again, my eyes drift to Potter as "James, Wesley!" becomes a Hufflepuff. Again, he's already looking at me. Again, he smiles. And waves. And again, I blatantly look away.
I'm not sure what all these chummy smiles are. It's not like we're friends. When we met on the train our very first year, I thought him rude and full of himself. The rest of our years together have only confirmed that first impression. I've listened to him brag about his talent on a broomstick and whine about how unfair it was that first years couldn't try out for their House teams. I've watched mess around in class and more or less ignore the teachers. It's infuriated me that he still gets good marks. And of course, I've had a front-row show to the worst of his bullying. The way he's treated some of the students here... ooh, it makes my blood boil. How Dumbledore could have appointed Potter as co-Head with me...
All the frustration and, quite frankly, anger that I didn't have the chance to process on the train since I was so surprised and caught off guard that Potter had even been there at all in the Prefects' carriage, and then anxious about how the meeting would go, has caught up to me now. I brew and stew about Potter all through the rest of the Sorting.
"Food!" Marlene exclaims when a mound of mashed potatoes appears in dish in front of us. "Finally!"
My mates all dish up – Marlene filling her plate to near-overflowing ("Hey, I gotta be well-fed for Quidditch practice!" "Mar, that doesn't start till next week.") - but I pick half-heartedly at some ham and chips, scowling. Alice, Emmeline, and Marlene mostly let me – I think they're partially too hungry to hold any serious conversation, and partially still reflecting on the Hat's song.
I brew and stew some more, my brain giving me a play-by-play of all my least-favorite Potter moments from the last six year, until by the time the golden platters have all been Vanished clean from the remains of dinner, I'm basically furious. Dessert starts to appear on the tables now.
"What d'you reckon about the Sorting Hat's song, though?" Marlene says. She's talking to all four of us, but it's pointed at me. I have the feeling she's trying to draw me out of my reverie.
Alice and Emmeline wait for my response across the table while cakes and pastries and fruit continue to pop into existence in front of us. I take a chocolate-glazed cream puff from a huge mound of them and consider Marlene's question, doing my best to shove my irritation to the side and answer thoughtfully.
"Well...it's not exactly surprising, is it? I mean..." I look around and lower my voice, not wanting any of the younger students to overhear. "With all the disappearances this last year and..." my voice goes even quieter, "...murders. The news about the Prewitts..."
The girls look somber. When I'd heard about the Prewitt brothers at the beginning of last summer, I didn't leave my room all day. Mum worried about me, but I didn't tell her what had happened. She knows about You-Know-Who, but I'm not stupid enough to give her all the details and have her worry more about me than she already does. My parents love that I'm a witch, revel in it, even, but I'm not sure even they would let me keep coming back to Hogwarts if they knew the full scale of what was going on.
Anyways, I'd been able to go visit Alice the next week, and we'd discussed it all then.
"And isn't that what we're here for now? We already knew that the more we learn at Hogwarts, the better we can oppose You-Know-Who. That's what I want, anyways." I glance at Alice, and she nods grimly. This, too, we had discussed over summer holidays.
Emmeline surprises me by nodding too. She's so quiet and even timid sometimes, it's hard to picture her in a battle. But then again, she'd lost her grandmother to You-Know-Who supporters.
"Get in line, Lily. As soon as I can get my wand pointed at that bastard's face..."
"Marlene!" Emmeline scolds.
Marlene shrugs and snags a cream puff from the stack too. I've been turning mine over and over in my hands while I was talking, "I'm just agreeing with Lily. I'm here to learn to fight."
She tosses the cream puff in her mouth just as I bite down on mine.
"What the bloody - !" Marlene spits the dessert back out immediately.
I start sputtering and immediately jerk my hand away from my mouth to examine what just happened. Instead of a light creamy center, the pastry gives to a springy, fibrous filling. I've bit right into...
"A cotton ball?" Alice examines the remains of Marlene's cream puff on the table.
"What?" Marlene's baffled, but I'm not. I know exactly who's responsible.
Sure enough, when I look up the table, the four of them – Pettigrew, Remus, Black, and, of course, Potter - are all in stitches as students all over the Hall are going through the same experience Marlene and I just did.
Marlene starts to laugh. "Wow, that was the weirdest sensation! You've got to try it, Em!"
"I think I'll pass," Emmeline says dryly. Alice, however, gamely gives it a try. But instead of being filled with cotton, Alice's cream puff explodes and splatters her face with the filling.
Marlene doubles over with laughter. Emmeline hands Alice a napkin, who wipes her face clean. Despite the mess, Alice has already recovered from the surprise and a little smile tugs at corners of her mouth.
She's not the only one who encountered the explosion results. There are cream-splattered students all over the Hall now. Most are laughing, though some just seem a little shell-shocked that their dessert just blew up in their face. I see one little first year girl sitting alone at the Ravenclaw table and wiping at her dirty face, mortified tears dripping down her cheeks. Half-eaten cream puffs litter the floor and are smeared all over the tables after the unsuspecting students had spat them out.
Irritation floods me all over again as I survey the scene. This is SO irresponsible. The Hall is a mess, the end of the feast dissolved into chaos. Someone could have choked, for Merlin's sake! I'm just grateful Angela Stoker, Ravenclaw seventh year prefect, has already swooped in to help that sweet first year.
Which, of course, is when Potter decides that now is the right time to approach me, his whole posse in tow. They're still laughing to each other. Black holds out a hand to Remus, who gives him a reluctant high five.
"Hey Evans, should we be helping with the first years...?" Potter asks. And then he sees my face. "Umm...are you okay?"
At his question, Alice peeks at my face too and frowns. "He's right, Lily. Are you feeling okay? You're all... " She waves her hand in around her own face, apparently at loss for words.
"Red." Pettigrew pipes in unhelpfully, poking his head out from around James. "Red and mad." He nudges Black, who whispers something back to him, and the pair dissolves into giggles. Remus sighs and rolls his eyes before herding them away.
Potter rolls his eyes a little too but focuses back on me. "But Peter's right, you do look a little, well, upset."
"Forgive me if I'm not thrilled about my co-Head assignment," I snap back.
"Wait. For real, we're still stuck on this?" Potter's voice is louder than it needs to be.
Behind me, I hear Emmeline, very softly, say, "Oh." Then she gets up, tugging Alice and Marlene by their sleeves. "We'll see you upstairs, Lil."
"But - !" Marlene says.
"Come on." Emmeline insists.
Marlene and Alice both shoot me unhappy glances but allow Emmeline to lead them down the Gryffindor table towards the door.
Potter watches them go. Then he turns back to me, eyebrows furrowed. "What's the deal, Evans?"
"This! This is the deal!" I wave the cream puff in his face.
He raises an eyebrow. "The cream puffs? Really?"
"Yes, really! I know it was you!"
"Well, it wasn't just me..." he mutters. "Sirius and Peter and Remus..."
"Yes, I know. The four of you, always up to no good!" I gesture out across the Hall, as if that was all the proof that was needed. Most students have finished with dessert and are starting to trickle out of the Hall, and most show signs of run-ins with the cream puffs; cream-flecked faces, dirty robes, pastry bits in hair.
Potter looks, too. Then he turns back to me. "You do realize that most people thought it was funny, right? Even your mates were laughing."
I let out an exasperated noise, almost like a growl. "That's not the point! The point is you're somehow Head Boy, and this is not what Head students do!" I shake the offending cream puff in his face again. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "I'm just really not sure how I ended up paired with you. This doesn't make any sense!"
"Did it ever occur to you that Dumbledore chose me -"
"Yes! I'm really questioning his sanity!"
"- which means that he thinks I have at least some merits!"
We're basically yelling now. Most of the Great Hall has cleared out – thank Merlin for the younger Prefects taking the lead on getting the first year to their dorms - but a small gaggle of students remains to witness our argument. So much for putting on a friendly front.
"Like what? Being at least halfway decent at Transfiguration? Riding a stupid broomstick? Because Merlin knows there's plenty of other seventh years who could fill those roles to who also AREN'T giant, arrogant gits as well."
Potter's mouth falls open. For a moment he can't speak and I'm feeling smug, like I've won. When he finally talks again, however, his voice is quieter than I'm expecting. Quiet enough that the knot of Hufflepuffs at the next table pretending not to eavesdrop wouldn't even be able to hear him. "And that's really all you think of me, huh?" He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up. "Right," he says. "Even after... okay. Right." He looks at me and grimaces. "I'll just... try to stay out of your way then, Evans."
And then he leaves.
Just like that, out the Great Hall door.
I stare after him, mouth hanging slightly open, partially annoyed he got to end the battle, but mostly just baffled that he did.
"Good show, Evans!"
I whirl on the Hufflepuffs at the nearby table. "Better get along to bed, Eagans. I would hate to have to take any points from your House on the very first night."
Eagans - scrawny, obnoxious fourth year - snorts and a few of the other students with him giggle, but they head towards the door after Potter.
The tension in the Hall breaks and the students who had stayed to witness Potter and I battle resume their conversations and start to clear out. I scan them all, trying to figure out just how much damage control I'll have to do, how many rumors I'll have to squash. Me and my bloody temper! Eagans alone will run his big mouth to the whole of the Hufflepuff House...
And then my eyes catch on the Head table, where all the staff sit. "Oh shoot," I hiss. Dumbledore and McGonagall caught the whole show.