Chapter 24: Transfiguration Triumphs

"Your final assignment before we break for the holidays is an essay," Professor McGonagall says once we've all taken our seats for class the next week. She taps the board, and chalk lines scrawl across the black surface, acting as her scribe. "You will use forty inches of parchment to illustrate the fundamental differences between Vanishing Spells and Conjuring Spells, and how the rhetoric of Conjuring Spells is the foundation for proper execution of human Transfiguration."

"Forty inches?!" George Belby exclaims loudly. I'm glad he did it before I could. I can hardly breathe. Forty. Agh. And on Conjuring Spells! James and I have barely started on those in our tutoring sessions, and I'm still pretty rubbish at them. Like I need this on top of everything else.

"Forty," Professor McGonagall says firmly. She narrows her eyes. "I am giving you more than adequate time to write this, and I will advise you to do your research. The more effort you put in now, the better off you will be when we return from Christmas holidays. I expect every last one of your essays on my desk start of class Monday the twelfth, no exceptions." She sweeps her steely gaze over us, daring anyone to grumble. We know better.

"Good," McGonagall says. "Then let's get into today's lesson."

/

When the post arrives the next morning over breakfast, I'm surprised to see Barnaby soaring down to me from the enchanted ceiling.

I haven't written Mum back yet. I'm still reflecting on James's advice, not to mention his offer to come with me, and not sure how to respond to Mum without causing even more drama than Petunia already has. I'm even less prepared to talk to Mum right now, since I'm not sure James's offer even still stands. He said he's not mad, but he's certainly not happy with me, either. Would he really want to sacrifice an evening of his holiday on me, his less-than-reliable mate?

Anyway, the point being I'm not expecting any post, since as far as I know, Barnaby's been living his best social life up in the Owlery with all the other owls for the last week. But here he comes, splashing down into my bowl of cereal.

"Thanks a lot," I mutter, mopping milk from the front of my robes.

"Here, I got you, Lily," James says from across the table, leaning around the giant Great Horned Owl who'd landed in front of him and managed not to make a giant mess. James points his wand at my front and a moment later, my robes feel warm and dry like they've just come straight from the laundry.

"Thanks," I say, feeling as idiotic as my owl I hadn't even thought to use magic to clean up. Sometimes, my muggle-born roots really show.

Barnaby, for his part, doesn't seem to realize he did anything wrong. He hops up, shaking his feathers dry, and sticks out his foot for me. Attached is a crisp scroll wrapped with a large, ornate red and gold velvet ribbon.

I unfurl it and read.

Dear Ms. Lily Evans,

Your presence is requested on Friday evening the 16th of December for a night of holiday food, music, dance, and festivities. This invitation-only party will be held in Professor Slughorn's quarters on the third floor. Invitees are allowed to bring one guest, if desired.

Please respond by owl your intentions of attending.

I greatly hope to see you there. It is sure to be an exciting night!

Regards,

Professor Horace Slughorn

Potions Master

Slug Club Director

Oh, right! How could I have forgotten Slughorn's infamous Christmas Party? They really are quite fun – Slughorn doesn't do parties halfway, and he always invites interesting guests. Not to mention, it's a great way to celebrate the end of classes for the next two weeks.

I look up to see if Alice has received and read her invitation, only to find her laughing, looking opposite us. I follow her gaze and see James Potter and Sirius Black holding identical scrolls with identical red and gold ribbons. Identical to mine.

"No way Slughorn invited you," I say.

James looks up, grinning. "Oh, but he did."

Sirius looks similarly delighted. "Suppose the old man couldn't resist giving us one more chance to attend."

"But you're not going to actually go, are you?" Alice asks.

James and Sirius exchange looks, and the mischief in the action makes me put a hand to my eyes in trepidation.

"What do you think, Prongs?" Sirius says. "Should we finally accept Old Sluggy's invitations?"

James nods. "I think it's only the polite thing to do."

"The polite thing to do – if you do show – will be to dress appropriately, try the snacks, and leave without drawing any attention to yourselves," I say sternly.

"It says you'll need dates," Peter says, picking up Sirius's discarded invitation and reading it over.

"Well, date isn't exactly the right word, and it's not like it's a requirement -" I start, but none of the boys are listening to me. Sirius taps a finger to his lips, scanning the Great Hall with a speculative look in his eyes.

"What an interesting task," he says. "Which lucky bird should I invite?"

"You'd make Julie Mackey's month, you know she's fancied you since fifth year," Peter suggests. "And she got hot last summer. And then there's Amy Davies..."

"Amy Davies..." Remus says, a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Not you too, Remus!" Alice exclaims. We exchange eye rolls.

"Honestly." I say. "We women are not show ponies." The boys continue to ignore us.

"Stacy Abbot's another option," Potter supplies. "Think she took a liking to you after the Quidditch match."

"Hmm..." Sirius mulls it over. "So many options..." But then he turns to James, suddenly stern. "But so help me, Prongs, if you bring Carol, I promise you I will personally kick you out of the house for Christmas hols."

James laughs. "You live at my house, Pads."

"Don't care," Sirius says. "Your parents like me better, anyways. They'll support me."

/

You don't think he'll really take Carol to Slughorn's party, do you?

Passing notes in class, Lil? I'm surprised at you. You're Head Girl!

Oh, hush, Alice. This is important.

Why? Can't stand to see James with another woman?

Another woman? Oh please. I just really don't want Carol at my Christmas party. That's all. Nothing to do with her coming with Potter.

The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Honestly! You're worse than Marlene. And Shakespeare? Really? Since when do you read muggle texts?

Oh, my dear sweet Lily, if you think Shakespeare wasn't magic, you still have so much to learn.

...I'm going to have to process THAT revelation in my own time...

But! SO not the point! This is JUST about Carol.

If you say so, Lil.

Frank's turning you soft and romantic, Walker.

Maybe just a little.

but do you think he'll actually bring Carol?

/

Really, all my mates are absolutely no help. After Alice's lack of reassurance in Defense Against the Dark Arts, I run the same question by Marlene and Emmeline over lunch (well outside the earshot of the Marauders). I should have known I'd just get more of the same unhelpfulness.

"Well, I don't know," Emmeline says, taking a bite of green beans. "She seems like his obvious choice, doesn't she? And they still always partner up in Arithmancy."

I frown.

"Really, Lily, if you don't want him to take Carol, you know what you have to do, right?" Marlene says.

"No," I say. "What's that?"

"Ask him yourself!" she cackles.

Merlin, and I call these mad hens my friends.

But, as I stare at the back of James's head all through Double Charms that afternoon, watching how the light catches the strands of his hair in a shimmery sort of way whenever he shifts in his seat, I have to admit to thinking Marlene's suggestion over. Because she's right – if James goes with me, he definitely can't bring Carol.

And I'm really, really worried he will. I could see him doing something like that after the whole mess this last weekend, to like, clear the air between the two of them. For some reason I don't understand, he seems to want to keep her as a friend.

I tear my eyes from James's messy hair to the boy next to him. Sirius, for all his joking, really wouldn't let James take Carol, right? I wonder as Professor Flitwick announces a final exam before the holidays next Tuesday. I really think he meant it. When we'd talked about Carol in Hogsmeade, it seemed like Sirius really didn't like her. He wouldn't want Carol at the party as much as I didn't want her there.

But could I count on Sirius? Or do I take this into my own hands?

James turns around suddenly to hand me the revision guide Professor Flitwick's drawn up for us and I startle.

James gives me a funny look. "You doze off there?"

"Something like that," I say. Also, go to Slughorn's party with me?

I take the parchment from him. Our fingers brush and I almost startle all over again.

Yeah, definitely can't ask him.

Sirius Black, you better keep your promises.

/

"I've got a different proposition for tutoring tonight," James says that evening when we meet in our regular library nook for tutoring.

"Oh?" I say. I'd been a little nervous about tutoring tonight, but so far, James is acting like everything is all normal and fine between us.

Except... wait? Proposition? Merlin, is he about to ask me to Slughorn's party?

I barely have time to properly panic before he's talking again.

"After Charms today, I was thinking, how about a trade? With the Transfiguration papers and the Charms exam both coming up next week, I can help you and you can help me."

Schoolwork. He's talking about schoolwork. Right. Calm that racing heart, Evans.

He continues. "Got the idea when the others wouldn't let us use you as a resource for our – ah – project the other day. Got me thinking, 'gee, that Lily is a smart bird, I ought to be using her more, especially since I help her so much.'" He grins teasingly at me.

"Haha very funny," I say. But I pause, tip my head, considering. "But not a bad idea. Let's do it." Then I grin. "But I get to go first."

"What?" James protests. "Why?"

"Hush. You've got to torture me for far too long. It's my turn now."

James grumbles, but he's smiling too. "Alright, Evans," he says. "Do your worst."

We spend the next half hour practicing Impervious Charms and Ascendio, though I staunchly refuse to give any pointers on Atmospheric Charms ("I've seen more than enough of those from you," I say nastily.) We make a sort of game out of it, taking turns to see who can propel themselves highest into the air, cast an Impervious Charm on the shelf level with their height, and then send books of increasing size whizzing at the charmed shelf to see if we can break the charm. I win when I finally reach the very top shelf some ten feet in the air, and when James magically hurtles a Transfiguration tome roughly the size of a small poodle entitled Everything the Modern Witch or Wizard Will Ever Need to Know About the Elaborate Art of Transfiguration, it rebounds so forcefully we have to dive out of the way and it breaks the study table against the wall. "Reparo," I say hastily, jabbing my wand at the remaining pile of splintered wood. James is laughing too hard to do anything, and his laughter is so infectious that we're in stitches by the time Madame Pince finds us, and most of the books in the Transfiguration section are on the floor. We only laugh harder when she curses us thoroughly in French and threatens to have us expelled if we don't stop making such a ruckus and put her library back right.

"Ah, well, makes for good review of a Clean-Up Charm," James says once Madame Pince has stormed away.

"Go on, then," I say, wiping my eyes – I'd been laughing that hard.

"Tersus Sursum!" James says, waving his arm in a wide, circular arc. The books all swirl into the air and reshelve themselves. I pace forward to inspect. Just as I'd expected, all the books made it back to the shelves, but they're stacked haphazardly, all out of order and upside down. I tsk.

"Same as your Atmospheric Charm, Potter. You're still sloppy. Charms are all about the precision in the wand work. Keep your motions tight, not loose and all over the place. Observe." I mimic his wand motion but keep my movement neat. The books rearrange themselves on the shelves, and I sigh happily to see all their spines lined up and facing outwards.

"Alright," James says. "You got your win. My turn."

I sigh. Back to tedious Transfiguration.

But I guess all our Charms practice loosened me up because when we warm up with some basic Conjuring, I'm doing it. Like, really well. I even manage to conjure up a pair of mice, a real triumph since I've never conjured up anything alive before.

"Lily, you're doing really well!" James says, delighted, as we watch them snuffle around the newly-repaired tabletop.

"Thanks!" I beam at him. "Maybe we ought to start every tutoring session with some Charms practice."

"Maybe," he says grudgingly. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. The Transfiguration assignment is an essay, not a practical exam, so let's talk theory."

James spends the next several minutes talking Vanishing and Conjuring Spells. It's a lot of information, but he does make it easier to follow than my textbook does. I think it's his enthusiasm. When he really gets going, his eyes get this glint in them and he starts talking faster, using his hands to punctuate the important points. "No one quite knows what happens to a Vanished object, but since Gamp's Law states that everything must be created from something, it's widely theorized that Vanished objects exist in a state of non-being, or, in other words, everything. That way, the raw materials are there for use when a Conjuring Spell is used. Fascinating, isn't it?" He's so into it, he can't even sit down to talk, pacing back and forth next to our table while he talks.

It's so endearing to watch that I almost don't realize he expects an answer. "Yes," I say, and I mean it, if only because he thinks it is. I smile while he goes on for a few more minutes before suggesting that we start on our essays so that he can review what I come up with.

"Oh, all right," I sigh. "I suppose this essay won't write itself." And it will be nice to have James look it over tonight to know if I'm on the right track. He finally takes a seat and we get to work.

Merlin, it's tedious work. I'd thought after James's energetic and cute – erm, well, informative – lecture, plus my stellar Conjuring skills, I'd be more prepared to write this. Apparently not. My brain starts to wander as I scratch out another weak sentence.

It's times like this, evening like this, that make my resolve about Potter – James – waver. Would it be so bad if I did fancy him a bit? Not that big a deal, really. Sometimes we have such fun together.

But others...

Well, he's not exactly thrilled with me right now, is he? We've got that big Carol block between us. Not to mention, neither of us trusts the other. Not really relationship foundation material.

I mean, if, in some alternate universe, I wanted to pursue that. Him. James.

And if in that same universe he was similarly interested in me.

But we're not in that fictional universe. We're in this one. So none of this matters. And I'm not that interested. I'm getting over it.

Agh.

We've been sitting in silence hacking away at our essays for twenty minutes and my brain needs a break, otherwise I'm going to go mad from my own mad thoughts.

"So," I start conversationally. "Are you really going to bring Carol to Slughorn's party next week?"

Hmm.

Not what thought I was going to say. Nice, Lily.

I blame my same traitorous mouth that got me in trouble with Carol and James in the first place.

James looks up at me and frowns. "I don't really want to talk about Carol right now."

"Right," I say. "Me either."

He rolls his eyes. "And honestly, we – Sirius and I – might not even go."

"Oh?" I ask in surprise. "You all seemed so into it at breakfast."

He snorts. "Yeah, Sirius likes to daydream, but a formal date isn't really his style." He smirks. "And really, a Slug Club party? Not really any of our styles. The Slug Club..." he trails off, still smirking. "Nah, we can totally find something more exciting to do on our last night in the castle before the holidays."

"It's not that bad," I say, mock defensive and choosing to ignore the implication that they'll all be getting up to trouble next Friday night instead of attending a school-sanctioned event because inside I'm metaphorically letting out a huge sigh of relief. No Carol at the party. No James-with-Carol at the party.

"Right," James says. "I'm sure."

I shrug. "It's too bad. I was kind of looking forward to seeing what kind of idiotic moves you and Sirius were going to try to pull."

James laughs right out loud at that. "Yeah, right. Your evening just got a whole lot more relaxing by not having to worry about us blokes anymore."

Oh, Potter, you have no idea. Aloud, I say, "Thank Merlin. Right now, it's enough of a struggle to fill up this entire length of parchment. Forty inches..." I blow out a breath.

James looks down at his own paper. It has more words scrawled on it than mine, but it's still a far cry from being complete. "Even I have to admit forty is a lot," he says. "McGonagall must be mad."

"I could have told you that a while ago," I mumble.

"I bet you could write forty inches for Flitwick though." He gives me a sidelong look. "I saw your assignment last week."

I laugh. "In my sleep!" He's right – the Protective Enchantments assignment I'd turned in for Charms had probably neared forty inches, and Flitwick had only asked for twenty-four.

"How'd you even get that much information on Protective Enchantments? I felt like I capped out of things to say at fifteen. Those last nine were a load of rubbish."

"I always get sidetracked, especially with Charms," I admit. "Something will catch my eye and then I'll go off on all these research details and end up with WAY more information than I needed."

"I guess that makes sense," James says. "Sometimes I'm tempted to do that too, but it would be more work so..." He shrugs, grinning.

"And Merlin forbid you do more work than you need to," I say drily.

"You got me," he says. "But if I would have indulged that impulse with the Charms assignment, I might have looked more into Tracking Charms."

I perk up. That was actually one of my tangents I'd gotten on. I'd found them really interesting. "Defensive Charms can put up a shield to protect the caster from being magically traced, at least from the point the charm was cast."

"Right," James says. "I got that much. But I was wondering more about how the Tracking Charm itself works. Is it for all events surrounding a specific location? Or can you cast a Tracking Charm to trace just one specific thing, like an object or... or an individual?"

I tap my chin thoughtfully. We haven't covered Tracking Charms in class yet, but when I was first looking into career options back in fifth year and Auror caught my eye, I'd researched useful charms for Aurors and Tracking Charms had been high on that list. I'd done a fair amount of independent study on them ever since, partly for Auror preparation, but partly because they were just so darn useful. The number of missing socks and quills and hairpins I'd managed to locate was use enough. "Usually a Tracking Charm is cast over a single location and marks the general activity that has taken place over a specified period of time. The further back you want to track, the weaker the traces will be. However, you could certainly use it for a single object – I do it all the time when I misplace things, which, you know, is often." I keep thinking, intrigued. "I've never tried tracing a specific person though... I don't see why it wouldn't work... you'd just have to tweak the terminology a bit..." I'm getting excited now. I pull out my wand. James leans forward to watch.

"I have an idea," I say. Then I give him a sheepish grin. "Care to be my guinea pig?"

He smirks. "Can't be any worse than the number of Transfiguration spells I've allowed you to cast on me this year."

I laugh. "Fair enough. Okay, here goes. Homonculus vestigium."

James stays still. "Did it work?"

"Get up and walk around," I say.

He rises, and as soon as he does, I squeal. He looks down, startled. A golden imprint, a perfect replica of James, sits in his chair.

"Go, go!" I urge. "Walk around! I want to see how long it lasts!"

He paces a circle around our study nook, trailing gold footprints. Every few paces, he leaves a full-bodied shimmering apparition hanging in the air. When he reaches his chair again, he stops, and we watch over the next minute as the traces slowly fade and then vanish.

"Brilliant," James says, eyes shining. He looks at me. "You're brilliant."

I wave my hand impatiently. "We have to try again. How far can you get from the casting spot and still leave a trail?" Without waiting for permission, I cast the charm again. "Now grab your bag. We're going walking."

/

It turns out, the charm – which I've taken to calling the Homonculous Tracking Charm – has quite the staying power. We sneak out of the library, packing our school bags with us, creeping among the shelves for as long as we can before sprinting out the door so that Madame Pince couldn't get after us again. James wondered if his gold footprints would bring her on the warpath after us, but I'm not worried. They only last a few minutes, and in any case, magic like this is tricky. It's very possible only the two of us, as the cast-er and cast-ee, can see the results.

We've started on the floor where the library is and begin the climb. With every floor, the golden imprints get fainter and fainter, but it's not until we almost run out of stairs, nearly to the top of the Astronomy tower, that James stops leaving them altogether.

"Impressive range," I say.

James stares at a stair a few steps down from us, where his last trace slowly shimmers out of existence. "Impressive spell," he says. He looks at me. "Now can I tell you you're brilliant?"

I cock my head like I'm considering it. "I suppose," I say.

"Then you, Lily Evans, are brilliant. Brightest witch of our year, I don't mind saying so."

Now, really. "Thanks," I mumble.

He starts climbing the rest of the way to the top of the tower. "'Course, I still hold title of brightest in general."

"Hey!" I shout at his back. "You'd sure like to think so!"

His shaking shoulders let me know he's laughing.

When we reach the top, the stone ceiling stops, leaving the air open above us. James walks to the edge of the tower to look out over the grounds, leaning against the parapet. I join him. I'm glad the weekend's storm has passed and the skies are clear tonight, even if the December air still blows icy. It's late enough all the stars are out, and the moon is a silver brush stroke in the sky.

"Thanks for letting me experiment on you," I say, watching the starry reflections in the lake shiver.

"Anytime," James says fervently. "The possibilities of that charm..."

I glance at him. He seems lost in thought, staring out over the Forbidden Forest with a vacant look that tells me he isn't seeing the frosted treetops.

"Like...?" I prompt, when it's clear he's not going to continue.

He shakes himself. "I don't know. Just could be fun to experiment with, that's all."

I frown, but don't push it further. Clearly, there's more than just fun experiments on his mind, but I don't expect to get any more out of him. Not trusting me right now, remember?

A sudden, strong wind whips my sigh away and I shudder. Pretty as it is up here, it's freezing.

"Come on," Potter says. "Let's get inside before Filch has to defrost us."

/

Dear Mum,

Thanks for being understanding about my missing Petunia's engagement party. You're quite right – I've got so much going on right now, I could hardly miss an hour, let alone a full day of school! As for the wedding, I apologize for the distress you've been in. I didn't realize Petunia would want me there so bad – you know how poorly we get on these days. I thought perhaps missing her wedding would put less stress on Petunia. Of course I'll come to the wedding, so long as Petunia wants me there. We can discuss it more when I see you in ONE WEEK!

There's still so much to wrap up though before I get to go home. All the professors have hit us with big pre-break workloads. This coming week, I have three papers, two exams, and an Arithmancy presentation. Wish me luck!

The only optimistic side is that, for once, I'm not worried about my Transfiguration assignment! Tutoring has been going REALLY well lately. I feel like I'm finally figuring it out! Rightfully so. Potter and I spend several hours a week working on my less-than-brill Transfiguration skills, so it only makes sense it's paying off. Potter even read my essay over and said he had NO NOTES. I was relieved. I spent all my free periods Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday slaving over that thing so that it wouldn't be hanging over my head during our Hogsmeade trip today. (I have loads of sweets I'm bringing home for you and Dad! I know how neither of you can resist Honeydukes pink coconut ice or treacle fudge.) I cannot wait to see you and Dad again so soon! A million hugs until next Saturday.

Love,

Lily

PS: Just because I mentioned James Potter in this letter DOES NOT mean I mention him in every letter. I mean, maybe I do, but it doesn't mean anything. Don't read anything into this, Mum.