Chapter 25: A Different Kind of Invitation

So, yeah. I decided to play it safe with my letter to Mum. Give Petunia a cover. She and Mum shouldn't argue right now; it is her wedding, after all.

Sometimes, I'm too kind for my own good.

That didn't stop me from slipping a note for Petunia in Mum's letter though.

Petunia,

We'll talk wedding when I'm home next week. Thanks for the invite.

Lily

I walk my letters up to the Owlery early Sunday morning. The creamy morning light is only just starting to pour in through the open windows, swirling dust motes in the air. Barnaby soars down to me and nibbles at my fingers a little too affectionately while I attach them to his leg.

"Stop that," I say, poking his feathery tummy. "And Mum's feeding you too many treats. You're getting tubby." He just gives a happy sort of hoot and cuffs me round the head with his tawny wing before soaring out the window, over the Forbidden Forest, and out of sight. I head downstairs for breakfast quickly; December makes for cold Owlery visits.

The Great Hall is predictably low in attendance at this hour on a Sunday morning, which, as always, is why I enjoy my Sunday mornings. So quiet, and I don't have to fight anyone for the sausages. I spear a few for my plate when I feel someone slide into the place next to me.

"Not going to eat all those yourself, are you, Evans?"

"None of your business how many sausages I want to eat, Potter," I say. I pile a few more on just to spite him. Never mind I definitely don't have the stomach capacity for seven. "And don't you know this early breakfast hour is sacred? What are you doing disrupting me morning?"

"Quidditch practice!" Marlene says brightly, sliding into place opposite James and me.

I should have known. Always Quidditch interrupting my Sunday mornings.

"In this weather?" I ask incredulously. I glance up at the enchanted ceiling. The sun is shining, but that hadn't stopped me from wishing for an entire extra layer of clothing while I was in the Owlery, even though I was wearing my thickest jumper and my wool cloak. And there's a crusted layer of snow across the grounds outside.

"It's good to practice in all conditions," James says. He starts loading scrambled eggs onto his plate. "You don't get to be the best team in the castle by only practicing when it's pleasant out."

"Where is your team, anyways? I suppose you need all of them out for practice to 'be the best'," I say.

"They'll be down," he says confidently. "Any moment now..." But when he looks towards the Great Hall doors, he breaks off in a scowl.

I follow his gaze and am surprised to see, instead of the remainder of the Gryffindor Quidditch team coming down the aisle between our table and the Hufflepuff one, Severus striding quite purposefully towards us.

"Severus! Hi!" I say, surprised, once he draws level to where we are sitting. I turn in my seat to face him.

"Morning, Lily. I was hoping I'd find you here," he says, but his eyes stray to James next to me. "Up a little early today, aren't we, Potter?"

"Quidditch practice," Potter says. I don't need to look at him to know he's gone tense and meets Severus's eyes with distaste.

"I know," Sev says. "Flint was upset you claimed the pitch first today."

"My team's got to practice," Potter says. "That's how we keep winning."

Sev's eyes darken and I know it's time for me to intervene before these idiot boys start rowing during my quiet breakfast over bloody Quidditch. "So!" I say, extra loud so I can pull Severus's attention back to me. "What did you want?"

Severus doesn't answer right away, his dark eyes still on James. I feel James shift.

"Severus?" I prompt. I refrain from snapping my fingers in his face to get him to focus.

Finally, he looks at me, and his eyes glitter. "Are you going to Slughorn's party next Friday?" he asks abruptly.

"Sure..." I say. "You?"

"Probably."

"Just probably?"

"Well..." he hesitates. "Yes. Yes, I'm going." His eyes dart back to James.

This is a weird conversation, and I can't figure out why this seems to be so important.

"Okay...?" I say. "That's good, I guess. Sure to be a fun time, Slughorn always -"

"Do you..." Sev says, cutting over me. I stop talking and look at him in confusion. He meets my eyes again and falters. "Do you have a... a..."
A date? I flash to Sirius's and James's conversation at breakfast the morning the invitations to Slughorn's party had come. Not a date, I remind myself. A guest.

"Am I going with someone?" I clarify.

Behind me, I hear a clink as James sets his fork down.

Severus nods, his jaw set.

"No," I say cautiously. I'm starting to have an idea of where this is going and I'm not quite sure what to think. "Are you?" I ask, then wonder if I'm going to regret that.

See, despite what I'd told James once, I was never actually sure if Sev hadn't, well, fancied me, at some point. Alice was quite certain he had.

I hadn't ever fancied Severus, that much was true, but there was a time in fifth year, before everything went horribly wrong, that we might have, that if things had been different, we might have... I don't know. Been something more, I guess. Maybe. Eventually.

But that didn't happen. And in any case, like I said, I'm not really sure. If he'd been feeling that or not.

But whatever the case was then, I know where I am now. And that was very much not interested.

Merlin. Just a friendship with Severus this year was complicated enough.

And, of course, there was James...

"No," he says. "I don't have a date either."

Date. There was that word again. Merlin, why were all these boys so determined to make the date a thing? The invitation said guest!

We lapse back into silence. Again. I'm determined not to be the one to break it this time. I can feel both James's and Marlene's eyes on the back of my head, laser-focused, and I really really wish Sev and I were having this conversation anywhere else than in front of James. I can only imagine what he's thinking.

Finally, Severus asks, all in a hurry, "Should we go together?" He bites his lip. "I mean... should we?" he says again.

"Should we?" I repeat doubtfully. I blow a breath out, doing my best to pretend James isn't sitting right there, so close I can feel how stiff and still he is, listening to every word. I can't fathom why Severus wants an audience, wants Potter as an audience for this. "I don't know about that Sev..." I trail off. I don't want to give him any sort of hope if he is thinking like... date date. I can't do that. Not with Sev. Not right now. Not ever, honestly.

"Not as a date!" He almost shouts, like he's reading my thoughts. A couple of Hufflepuffs on their way to seats at their own table give him a weird look but he ignores them. "Not a date," he says, lowering his voice to a more normal level. "Just... as friends."

"As friends?" I say, still doubtful.

"Yes," he says.

I still don't answer. He continues. "Look, neither of us is going with anyone. I mean, I wouldn't really have anyone else to go with. Would you?"

There's a very loaded silence and for a split second, I think, James. But then I shake the thought away. James had told me he didn't want to go, that he and Sirus weren't actually planning on going anymore. So James couldn't be my date.

Not that I'd want him to be.

Just... you know. If I wanted him to be. In that other alternate universe I thought about sometimes.

"No," I say. "I wasn't going to ask anyone." It's only honest.

"So let's go together. No strings attached," he promises.

"Just as friends?" James has finally decided to butt in. I'm actually a little impressed it took him so long. But no less anxious. I squeeze my eyes shut in trepidation.

But Severus decides to deal with the interruption by ignoring it. "So that's a yes?" he asks, solely focused on me.

"Umm..." It's hard to think with James sitting right there, waiting for an answer, too. I'm worried he's going to lay into Severus before I can figure out what I'm supposed to say. "Well, if it's really just as friends... yes, fine. Let's do it."

Severus's pale face breaks into a relieved smile, the first all morning. "Yeah? Yeah. Okay. Good." He exhales, and I think for a moment he really has managed to forget that James and Marlene are still sitting here with us.

But I sure haven't, and the air buzzes with tension so thick I swear I can feel it needling against my skin, picking up my heartbeat. It's time for Severus to leave before James does something rash.

"Yes, it will be fun," I say politely. "So, I'll see you later?"

Sev glances over my shoulder again. He locks eyes with someone for a long moment, and I'd bet every good mark I've ever earned that it's James.

"Right," Sev says, and when he redirects his attention back to me, I'm surprised to find he's smirking, all his nervous energy gone. "I'll see you later, Lily."

We all watch him walk away to the Slytherin table in silence. I don't know how I'll be able to turn back around.

"Did you just get asked on a daaaaaate, Lily?" Marlene says, breaking the quiet and drawing out the word in a sing-song voice.

"It's not a date!" I say, turning to face her. "Didn't we already go over this? The invitation just said guest!" Despite the words, though, I feel thoroughly embarrassed, and I can't look at James at all. You haven't done anything wrong, I tell myself. You're not even lying! "You were sitting right here, you heard what Sev said. It's just a friends thing."

"I don't know," Marlene says doubtfully. "You know Alice's theory about him."

James stands, so abruptly I forget I'm avoiding his eyes and look at him in surprise.

But he's not looking at me. He directs his words at Marlene, his voice sounding curiously detached. "I'll meet you all out on the pitch. Tell the others. DON'T be late."

Then he pushes away from the table, leaving his plate still full.

"Oy! What about breakfast?" Marlene hollers at his retreating back. "You can't practice on an empty stomach!" But if James hears her, he doesn't acknowledge it. He pushes against the Great Hall doors and they close behind him with a muffled bang.

Marlene scowls at them. "Ooh, practice is going to be fun today," she says, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," I say, though I'm not entirely sure why.

She turns her scowl on me. "You should be."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I protest, even though I'm the one who had just been apologizing.

Marlene's eyes shift back over my shoulder. "Thank Merlin you lot are up. I'm going to need your help."

I turn to see Alice and Emmeline coming up the Gryffindor table for breakfast, still blinking sleepily. Alice's short hair sticks up every which way, a sure sign that she's come straight from bed.

"We could hardly stay sleeping after all the ruckus you made getting up this morning," Alice says grumpily. Emma just yawns.

"Well, let's get some breakfast, you grumpy heads," Marlene says. "I only have ten minutes and we need to clue Lily in."

/

"Alright, alright," I say, once Marlene has a full plate of toast, sausage and eggs, and both Alice and Emma look a little more awake after they've had a cup of black tea apiece. Actually, Alice has started her second. "What's all this about?"

"Yes," Alice says, twisting in her seat to look at Marlene. "What is it you need help telling Lily?"

Marlene rolls her eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" She focuses on Emma and Alice, ignoring me. "This morning, Snape asked Lily to Slughorn's party. She said yes. And the whole thing happened in front of me." She pauses. "And James."

Alice groans, and Emma says, "Oh, that poor boy."

"What does that mean?" I ask, starting to get irritated.

"And now," Marlene says, still ignoring me, "as you can see, Lily is baffled why this matters at all, and why she should be sorry that shortly after this went down, James stormed out the front door."

"Right," I say. "And that's my fault because...?"

Alice, Marlene, and Emmeline all look at each other. Alice suddenly looks like she's fighting back a laugh and Marlene rolls her eyes. "What?" I demand. "You lot have been doing this lately, all these little looks whenever we talk about Potter. What do you know that I don't?"

Alice giggles. Marlene snorts. "I can't believe you don't know, Lily," she says.

"Know what?" I say.

Marlene looks to Emmeline. "Help me out, Em," she says. "I think you have more tact than I do." She pops a bite of eggs in her mouth.

"Em?" I prompt, looking at her.

Emmeline sighs and smooths her hands over her skirt. "Lily," she begins. "Don't you think it's interesting how much James has been hanging around you this year?"

"Well, we are Heads together," I say. "And, you know, the tutoring."

"Right," she says. "But what about mealtimes and at Hogsmeade and giving up whole Saturdays to spend time with you? Because even you don't need that much tutoring. The boy is only obligated to tutor you one hour a week."

I tilt my head, frowning at her. "Go on..." I say slowly, not entirely sure where she's headed with this. Marlene snorts again, but I ignore her.

"And remember in fifth year, when he would ask you out all the time?"

"Vividly," I say, picking up my own piece of toast and taking an aggressive bite.

"Well..." Emmeline says, deliberately. "Don't you think it's possible that he still... you know...?" She trails off, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

I stare at her, my mouth hanging open, not caring that they're probably getting an unpleasant view of my half-chewed breakfast. She can not be implying what I think she is.

"C'mon, Lily, you've got to see it," Alice says, setting down her cup and trying to come to Emma's aid.

"See... see what, exactly?" I squeak.

"Merlin, Lily, you are dense!" Marlene says, apparently over her lack of tact. She waves her fork in my face, a sausage skewered on the end. "James totally fancies you!"

I turn to look at her. "He does not!" I protest, my face hot. Then I whip my head back to Emmeline. "And what do you mean, 'still'?" I accuse. "Potter's never – he never fancied – he never liked me like that!" My tongue stumbles over the words. I'm sure my face is glowing red.

Now it's their turn to look surprised. "What do you mean?" Alice says. "He asked you out like every day fifth year."

"As a joke," I say.

"I thought you were kidding when you said that before," Emmeline says.

"No!" I exclaim. "Potter thought it'd be hilarious to ask me out since no one else would and it would – why are you all laughing at me?!"

"Lily!" Alice exclaims. "James asked you out because he liked you!"

"And he totally still does!" Marlene says.

"No!" I shout. Then I glance around. Early Sunday morning or not, there are still students in the Great Hall. Why do we keep having conversations like this in places where so many people can listen in?!

"No," I repeat, at a more rational volume. "It's not like that. It... it can't be."

"Why not?" Alice asks.

"Because... because..." I flounder. Because how could he? Because I've spent the last six years being absolutely awful to him. Because we've been annoying each other from the very first day on the train. Because we don't even trust each other. Because my best friend is his worst enemy. Because I can't handle what the last couple months might mean if that's the case. Because... if Potter... if James... fancies me, too, how am I supposed to just get over him now?

"Because he just can't," I say lamely.

"Lily," Marlene says, very softly, and very seriously. It's so out of character for her I stare, wide-eyed. "He does."

I stand. "I can't talk about this anymore. I'll... I'll see you all later."

/

In typical Lily Evans avoidance fashion, I spend the rest of Sunday shut up in my room, working on homework. Thank goodness for Hogsmeade yesterday so I have an excuse to retreat to my bed, hangings drawn, and not talk to anyone. And a pile of sugar and sweets to keep me going till breakfast tomorrow morning.

I don't let myself think either. At least, not outside of Conjuring Spells and Tracking Charms and complicated Rune translations.

I hear Marlene stomp into the dormitory around noon. "Practice was miserable, thanks for asking!" She shouts at my bed, her voice barely muffled by the drapery. "I blame you!"

"Why?" I hear Carol ask curiously.

"None of your business," Marlene retorts.

"Hmm..." Carol hums.

I flick my wand at my Wireless Wizarding Radio so the volume on the Soothing Sounds for Studious Sorts overpowers any more conversation.

/

I wake early again Monday morning. I lay in bed, listening to the slow, even breathing of all the other seventh year girls, fairly certain I'm the only one awake.

Last night, after all my school work was done and everyone had gotten the message I didn't want to talk, I'd had nothing to do but stare at the starry pattern of the drapery over my head and think.

And I'd come to a very simple conclusion.

Nothing had to change.

Regardless of what my mates say, there's still no guarantee that James likes me. As more than a mate, I mean. And even if he does, unless he's going to do something about it, it doesn't matter. Because Merlin knows I'm not going to do anything about it. That is not the plan. And I'm following the plan.

So I treat James normally. We stay friendly. Nothing's changed.

And when we come back from Christmas, this won't even be an issue anymore.

/

We start our final brews Monday morning in Potions. Slughorn wants us each to produce a perfect vat of Veritaserum before breaking for the holidays. Since the process is so long and complicated, it will be our project the whole week.

"Your end results count as fifty percent of your first term grades," Slughorn reminds us. The dungeons are near silent the rest of class as we all sweat nervously over our cauldrons, anxious about accidentally adding too much fire-newt juice and turning the solution acidic.

Later, in Transfiguration, we turn in our essays. Thanks to my studious Sunday, as well as Potter's assistance on Friday, I'm feeling quite confident about my work, much more than usual. I think I might even scrape an E on it. McGonagall promises us she'll have our marks back to us on Friday, the final day of term.

/

"Miss Evans?"

Shoot. I knew Transfiguration was going too good today to be true. It's the end of class on Wednesday, our final practice of Conjuring Spells, and when McGonagall called me for my turn to demonstrate on my badger, I did it. Vanished the badger. Completely. There weren't even any floating eyeballs left and nothing exploded and nothing that shouldn't have disappeared did. I just... did it! Like an actual competent witch. I could barely keep from shimmying victoriously back to my seat.

None of that enthusiasm remains now. I slowly turn on the spot to face Professor McGonagall as the rest of the class files out around me.

When all grows quiet, I resignedly move closer to McGonagall's desk, but she looks past me, towards the door. "Mr. Potter? Did you need something?" she asks briskly.

I turn to see James hovering just inside the doorway. He raises his eyebrows at me. I shrug and face Professor McGonagall again. "It's fine, Professor," I say. Treating him normal. And if this is about my Transfiguration skills – as I suspect it is – he's got the right to be here. Since any skills I have are entirely thanks to him.

She looks down her nose at me. "Very well," she says. "I suppose Mr. Potter might benefit as well from hearing what I have to say." She slides a drawer in her desk open, pulls out a roll of parchment, and passes it wordlessly to me. James edges closer as I unfurl it, fingers trembling.

I recognize it immediately, the title Conjuring Spells and the Foundations Thereof as Related to Vanishing written across the top in my tidy script. What's new, however, is the letter inked at the top in scarlet.

"O?" I say, incredulous. I look up at Professor McGonagall, back down at my essay, and then back up, blinking rapidly.

"Lily, you got an O?" James says, abandoning caution and hurrying over to snatch the parchment from my hands. "Great Merlin, you did!" He beams at me. "Well done, Lily!"

I look at Professor McGonagall in confusion. "You said we wouldn't be getting these back until Friday." It's an inconsequential detail but the only thing my brain can process.

"That's true for the rest of the class, but I thought you would like to know your score sooner."

For the first time – probably ever – I think I spot a twinkle in her eyes. Who would've guessed Professor McGonagall's got a light-hearted side? Maybe there is something in her that explains why she's so lenient with James and the rest of the Marauders.

"But are you sure this is correct?" I ask, gesturing to my essay still in James's hands. He's reading bits of it over, nodding occasionally like he agrees with my analysis.

"Of course I'm sure," McGonagall says. She extends a hand to James, who drops the roll of parchment into her waiting palm reluctantly. She places it back in the drawer with all the others, then straightens to face me again. "You are making exceptional progress in Transfiguration this year, Miss Evans."

"Thank you," I squeak in surprise.

"Your in-class spell work is perfectly adequate, which, I daresay, is the highest praise I've been able to give you in recent years, and your written work is even better." She gestures back towards the drawer my "Outstanding" paper rests in. She inclines her head towards James. "I'm sure much thanks is owed to Mr. Potter for your progress."

"Yes," I say, just as James says, "I don't think I have that much to do with it."

I cut my eyes at him, one eyebrow raised skeptically. No need for any of your uncharacteristic humility, Potter. He continues.

"All I'm doing is giving Lily pointers and refining her technique. Lily knows all her theory and works harder than anyone. Anyone could do for her what I'm doing, and she'd still excel."

I smile at him, feeling warmed over. I am working hard. Although I think he's still selling himself short.

Also, if you would kindly not compliment me like that, Mr. Potter. It makes me flustered.

But the warm fuzzies evaporate as Professor McGonagall starts to talk again. Leave it to her to kill an optimistic mood.

"But here exactly is why I am still worried," she says. "Miss Evans is working harder than anyone else and is still just managing to be an average performing student. That O, while remarkable, is an outstanding exception to your usual marks."

I frown. It is true, I still usually get only As on my work, with a very occasional E thrown in, hence why the O is such a shock. They're far better marks than the Ps I was mostly getting last year, though.

"As you know, my mid-year exam is approaching shortly after we return from Christmas holidays. This exam is meant to simulate your NEWTs, and anyone who does not score an E or an O will not be allowed to continue in the course."

I swallow. Professor McGonagall fixes me with her down-the-nose stare again. "I have much more faith in you now, Miss Evans, than I did at the beginning of term. But you will need to be at your very best for the exam when we return from the holidays."

"I understand," I say in a wobbly voice. She nods, once, sharply.

"Good. I look forward to your performance," she says. She looks to James. "Yours too, Mr. Potter." She definitely addresses him with more affection than she did me, even bestowing him with a smile. Psh. And people think I'm the teacher's pet. Anyone who McGonagall looks at like that is definitely the pet. "Have a good afternoon, both of you."

We leave the classroom together.

"Don't let her get to you, Lily," James says.

"Who says she's gotten to me?"

"Your face. You look like she just told you that for the exam you're going to have to take on a Hungarian Horntail single-handed."

Well, I do think I'd rather face the dragon.

"But she's not wrong," I say. "I'm still barely clinging to my good marks! I spent so much time on that essay and only expected an E. At best!"

"But you got on O," he says. "And you can do it again."

I look at him, frowning. He smiles.

"I've spent way too much time on you to let you give up. You've got this. I know it. You're a brilliant witch, Lily. Remember. You just have to believe it."

I have to look away again. I hear Marlene's voice in my head. Lily. He does.

"Thanks," I say.

We're quiet for a moment as we walk to lunch.

"So... Slughorn's party on Friday?" And immediately I send him a sharp look. He hasn't said a single word to me about the party since I'd told Sev I'd go with him. It's been a little disorienting, actually. I keep waiting for a snide comment.

"What about it?" I say warily.

"I've changed my mind. Think Sirius and I will come, after all."

"What?" I ask. "Why? Thought that wasn't 'your scene'." I roll my eyes.

"Like I said, changed my mind. Think it'll be interesting." He's not looking at me at all, just staring straight ahead.

I'm suspicious. This is not the same James as last week who was not interested in wasting the last night at Hogwarts on something as mundane as a Slug Club party. "What are you up to?"

"Why do I have to be up to something? Can't a bloke just want to go to a party?"

"Not when it's you and Sirius," I say. We walk into the Great Hall. I see my mates sitting near the end of the table nearest us. They've saved me a seat, bless them.

"It's just a party, Lily," James says, starting to walk away to join the Marauders further down.

Something occurs to me. "So, who are you bringing?" I shout at him.

He pauses and looks back. He's grinning, and it's a grin I'm familiar with. It's the same one that preceded a Filibuster Firework going off on the last day of classes last year. In class. It's a grin that means mischief.

My stomach curdles.

"You'll see," he says. And then he leaves without looking back.