A/N: Annnnd we're back. Thanks for your kind words about the last chapter.
XIV. Halloween
"The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain."
– Dolly Parton
James Potter was in a foul mood.
Sure enough, Lily had said yes to Benjy Fenwick's Hogsmeade offer. And it had gone quite nicely, according to the two fourth years he'd bribed into spying on their date.
Before he knew it, they'd be picking things up where they left off in Greenhouse Two.
He kept telling himself that Evans was free to happily see whoever she felt like, that it shouldn't bother him.
But it did.
He'd caught himself, more than once, playing their conversation in the Common Room over in his head. Had she been flirting with him that night? Or was it the Firewhiskey?
Probably the Firewhiskey.
And to make matters worse, his Seeker, Alistair Thomson, had informed him this morning he was quitting the team.
Sure, the handle of his Nimbus broom had technically perforated his large intestine – but that wasn't anything the Healers at St Mungos couldn't fix.
"Just hasn't got the stomach for it anymore," Siris had mused when James had told his best mate the news.
So, with his prospects for a date with Evans growing slim, and his Quidditch Cup ambitions upended by his useless Seeker, James was approaching the upcoming Halloween Feast on Thursday with an irrational urge to hit something.
It didn't help that as Head Girl, Lily was tasked with helping him – still Head Boy in spite of himself – to organise the Feast.
Which was why he was now standing outside a classroom on the second floor waiting for her to finish tutoring a group of fifth year Charms students.
He checked his watch and swore under his breath. He didn't have time for this shite. An evening like this lent itself well to a long flight over the Black Lake, a chance for him to escape, to clear his head…
He was snapped out of his reverie by the classroom door opening. A Ravenclaw and a couple of Gryffindors walked out of the classroom, followed by three Hufflepuff girls who made eyes at him, giggling as they walked past.
He offered what he hoped looked like a devil-may-care grin in return – but if he was honest with himself, he knew that Sirius was much better at it than him.
Then Benjy Fenwick walked out of the classroom and James' grin disappeared.
"Potter."
"Fenwick."
"Good game," Benjy said begrudgingly.
"Thanks," James said. There was no need to rub it in.
"Thought we might have had you there."
"McKinnon had other ideas," James smirked. Well, maybe a little.
"Hear you're after a new Seeker," Benjy said.
"Maybe," James said. "Reckon we might go without – see if it'll give Hufflepuff a fighting chance."
"Benjy, is Potter–" Lily poked her head out of the classroom door and saw James. "Oh, you are. Come on in."
James walked in and dropped his bag on an empty desk, trying to ignore the rest of Lily's conversation with Fenwick.
She came back in and closed the door.
"Sorry, were you waiting long?"
Since third year, but who's counting.
He shook his head.
"Nah."
"How was your day?" she asked.
"Evans, we're in the same classes."
She looked a little put out.
"I was just asking."
"It's been fine," he said. "I'm just distracted. I need a new Seeker."
"I heard."
"You and half this bloody school, clearly."
He ran a hand through his hair – normally a surefire way to annoy her, but today she just looked concerned.
"Well, let me know if I can help."
"Any good on a broom?" he asked.
"Magic carpets are more my speed," she replied with an impish grin.
He smirked and made a vague gesture at her with his hands.
"What's the plan, then?"
"Well, we normally arrange decorations in the Great Hall – it's a good task to delegate to the Prefects – and talk to the House Elves about the food," Lily explained. "Then there's a musical item."
"I don't sing, Evans."
"You after several bottles of Firewhiskey says otherwise."
"A voice like mine needs lubrication," he said.
"A voice like yours needs silencing," she replied flatly.
"You're stifling my budding musical career before it has a chance."
"I'm doing you a favour. Stick to poetry."
"Leave Tennyson out of this."
That earned him a laugh.
"Professor Flitwick usually sorts the music," she explained. "So we only need to check to make sure he's happy to do it."
"Has Flitwick ever said no to you?"
"Point taken."
"Well," James said, picking up his satchel – decidedly more scuffed and worn than Lily's – "sounds easy enough."
He watched as Lily picked up a stack of books and slid them into her bag.
"Does Pince know you're trying to stuff half the library in there?"
"It's not that many!"
"It is if I need more than two hands to count them on."
"Start on your toes."
"Seriously, though, Evans – you're going to damage your back."
"You break a limb every other week in Quidditch. Besides, I put a featherweight charm on it – see?"
He took her bag – and sure enough, it was surprisingly light.
"Don't those wear off?"
She gave him a look that spoke volumes.
"We get it, you're good at Charms."
"And Potions."
"That's because Sluggy adores you," James replied.
"Professor Slughorn likes me because I'm good at Potions."
"When is his thing?" James asked as they left the classroom. "Saturday?"
"Yes. Are you going?"
James gave a noncommittal shrug.
"I hadn't really thought about it."
"Oh. Well I'm planning on going," Lily said. "We can always suffer through it together."
"Is–"
James caught himself. When it came to Lily Evans, he was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid enough to ask her if Benjy was going.
"Hmm?"
"Er – nothing. I was going to ask who else Sluggy has invited?"
"Oh, the usual suspects I guess."
"Everyone who's someone, right?"
"Something like that."
She stopped as they reached the end of the corridor. "I'm heading this way – off to steal the other half of the library," she said, patting the satchel slung on her shoulder.
He smirked.
"Don't let Pince catch you."
He watched her walk around the corner – and it was only when he was sure she was out of earshot that he let out a breath and swore:
"Fuck!"
Try as he might to resist it, that same familiar Lily Evans feeling in his chest was back – with a vengeance.
Together.
He could do together.
James lay on his bed, lazily throwing a Quaffle into the air and catching it as it fell. Lily's words from earlier were still running through his head.
He paused as Sirius entered the dorm. His best friend took one look at him and made a disgusted sound.
"What's wrong with you?" Sirius said. "And don't say Evans."
"Evans."
Sirius threw a book at him.
"Prick."
"Who's a prick?" Peter said, entering the dormitory with Remus.
"Prongs is in love," Sirius explained, as if James had caught the plague.
"Who's the lucky guy?" Remus asked.
James threw his Quaffle at Remus.
"It's Evans," Sirius supplied.
Remus shot him a flat look. "Yeah, I gathered."
"I asked her if she was going to Slughorn's thing on Saturday and she said we could suffer through it together," James explained.
"And?"
"Was she asking me to go?" James said. "Or was she asking me to go with her?"
"Well, I'm going," Sirius said.
"Slughorn invited you?"
"Course 'e did. He's been trying to get me to join his club for years," Sirius replied."Every year I go to at least one of his events. I eat the food, crack on with one of the girls, fight with Regulus and then get kicked out."
"A time-honoured tradition," Remus remarked.
"None of this is helping me with my Evans problem," James interjected.
"I know who can help you with your Evans problem," said Sirius.
"Who?"
"Emmy Jones. The nice-looking one from Ravenclaw."
"Emmy?"
"Short for Emmeline," Peter said.
"Oh."
"Rumour has it she's quite keen on you," Peter added.
"Reckon she's had one too many Bludgers to the head," said Sirius.
James groaned.
"This really isn't helping."
"I don't know what you expect, Prongs. None of us really understand women," Peter said.
Sirius looked at him.
"You don't understand anything, Wormtail."
The Halloween Feast had drawn to a close, and the Great Hall was emptying out as the students of Hogwarts headed back to their dorms.
Lily waved goodbye to Marlene and scanned the room for her fellow Prefects on cleanup duty.
"A fine Halloween Feast, Miss Evans," said Dumbledore, approaching her.
"Thanks Professor."
Professor Flitwick tells me you led the effort."
"Oh, I had help – the Prefects did most of the work really."
"And what of Mr Potter?"
"What do you mean, sir?"
"I can't help but wonder – do you think he is doing a good job as Head Boy?"
"Oh – of course. He's learned quickly."
Dumbledore nodded, stroking his beard.
"To tell you the truth, Professor, I was worried at first," Lily added. "But he's really made an effort to prove himself."
"I'm pleased to hear it, Miss Evans," Dumbledore replied. "Good night – and again, well done."
"Thanks sir," she replied.
No sooner had the Headmaster left when she heard another voice.
"Alright, Evans?"
It was James.
"Alright," she replied. "I didn't think I had you rostered for pack up?"
"Don't mind," he shrugged. "What did Dumbledore have to say?"
"He wanted to know what I thought of you as Head Boy."
"Oh?" he asked.
"Said you were rubbish and that I'd be better off on my own."
He grinned.
"Does that mean I'm off the job then?"
"No such luck, I'm afraid," she replied. "But suffice to say, Dumbledore knows I'm vastly superior to you."
"I distinctly recall a time when you used to call me arrogant," he said.
"I'm sure you deserved it," she said, smirking. "Come on, give us a hand with the last of the pumpkins."
He drew his wand and they began removing the decorations.
"Where do you want them?"
"Just in the Entrance Hall – Hagrid said he'd take care of them from there."
"Okay." James lifted his wand again and the pumpkins began floating out of the Great Hall.
"How's your family doing?" she asked.
"Um, good. Yeah, they're good," he replied. "Yours?"
"Good, except for Petunia."
"Has, er, whatshisname…Vernon, right?"
"Yes – and no, not yet," Lily replied, anticipating his question. "It's driving her spare. She's desperate to be engaged."
"Why is she so impatient?"
Lily sighed.
"This sounds awful, but–"
"Go on," prompted James.
"–she wants to make sure she gets married before I do."
James snorted.
"Really? Is she that insecure?" he asked.
"Well…" Lily began.
"Yes, she is," James answered his own question.
Lily sighed.
"She's never really made peace with me being a witch. So any way she gets to be the centre of attention is important to her."
James nodded.
"Not that she needs to worry," she added, gesturing with her hands. "Do you see a long line of suitors waiting to ask me for my hand in marriage?"
"I'm sure you'll make an excellent spinster."
"Prat."
"Force of habit," he grinned.
"Some are hard to break," she replied flatly.
"Do you?" James asked. "I mean, do you want to get married some day?"
Lily scoffed.
"Not if that's your best effort at a proposal, I don't."
James laughed.
"Ta," Lily said. "That's it, I think."
"Hey – I was going to go for a drink at The Three Broomsticks," James ventured. "Would you like to join me?"
"That'd be–" she started, and then caught herself. "Sorry, I just remembered. I can't."
"It's alright. Late notice I guess," James said.
"I'm meeting Benjy at the Kitchens."
"Oh, um, Fenwick. Okay," James replied, running a hand through his hair in an effort to quell his sudden disappointment.
"Sorry," she said. "Maybe–"
"It's nothing, really," James replied, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else. Surely there was a spell that could swallow him into the floor. "Um, I should go. Night Evans."
He turned and left the Entrance Hall quickly, with a bitter feeling in the pit of his stomach.
James sat on the edge of his four-poster bed, and kicked off his shoes.
Downstairs, the Gryffindor Common Room was in full Halloween cheer – but he had no interest in joining the party.
Digging through the drawer in his bedside table, James fished out a worn photo – the same one he'd studied many times before, and looked at Lily. He was so used to seeing her glare at him – but this time, her eyes didn't harden. Instead, the expression that settled on her features was one that he couldn't quite place.
"Fuck it," he said quietly.
The photo went back into the drawer. James fell back onto his bed, trying in vain to dispel thoughts of her from his mind.
The door opened, and Sirius came in. He looked at James and sighed.
"Bloody hell."
Sirius went over to his trunk and pulled out two crystal glasses and a bottle of Firewhiskey. He handed James a glass.
"Mr. Blishen's finest," Sirius said, filling James's glass. "Been saving it for a rainy day."
James took the drink wordlessly and knocked it back, feeling the liquid sear down his throat.
"Good lad," Sirius said, refilling the glass. "Another."
He was unlucky. That was it, James surmised. His luck – which he'd long counted on to put a veneer of respectability on his grades – and to get him out of a few tight spots with Filch – had finally run out.
What other explanation was there for it?
How else would he find himself in a Double Astronomy class, on a Friday night, his telescope and star chart perched on the parapet right next to the very girl who he could not stop thinking about – and who had turned him down just the previous evening?
Lady Luck was a sadist. Hogwarts was too fucking small. And he was pretty sure he was still hungover from Sirius's Firewhiskey.
Something jabbed James in the ribs and he jumped, nearly knocking his telescope over.
"Ow!" he glared at the source of the jab: Lily's elbow.
"Oh, you are awake," Lily said, peering into her telescope before marking something down on her star chart. "You looked like you were nodding off."
"Thanks," he replied sourly, rubbing his ribcage
"You're welcome," she replied.
He watched her as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before making another mark on her chart.
"Can I look at that?" James asked. "I can't see a bloody thing."
"It's because you've got your telescope set up all wrong – here," Lily said. "This needs to be at 45 degrees – not 43. And your lens is off too."
First year mistakes. He felt like a right idiot.
"Are you alright?" Lily asked. "Did you take too many knocks in Quidditch practice?"
"No – well, probably. It's not that. I'm just…tired," he said lamely.
"I gathered that from the nodding off. What's wrong?"
"Potter! Evans! I didn't realise gossiping was a prerequisite for finding Delphinus," interjected a sharp voice: their Astronomy Professor.
"Sorry Professor, Evans was just helping me with my telescope," said James.
"Be that as it may, Mr. Potter, I should think the Head Boy would know what he's doing after seven years in my class."
"I would have thought so too, Professor, but I'm clearly a bit rubbish and Evans has taken pity on me."
Lily stifled a giggle.
"Well, at least you're self-aware. Back to work, Mr. Potter. You too, Miss Evans."
"Yes, Professor," James replied, turning back to his star chart.
Mercifully, class ended shortly thereafter, as the first drops of rain hit the parapet of the Astronomy Tower.
James packed up quickly, eager to return to the Gryffindor Common Room, but a voice stopped him.
"Potter, wait."
It was her.
"What's wrong?" Lily pressed. "You didn't tell me earlier."
"Nothing, really," he replied.
"You can talk to me, you know that right?"
"Yeah, I do," he said, still feeling surly.
"So, what's wrong?"
Me, falling for you, he thought – and like an idiot thinking that it would be different this time. That's what was wrong.
"I have a bruised ribcage."
"I think you'll survive. Go on."
"I got another letter from my Dad," James said. "Riddle's lot have gone quiet. The Aurors are worried – they reckon he's planning something big."
Her eyes widened.
"Does he have any idea what?"
"If he does, he didn't say. But the Ministry is a mess. Behind closed doors, there's a lot of sympathy for, I don't know, blood purity. Plenty of people are buying what Riddle is selling. It's ridiculous. But old prejudices die hard, I guess."
Lily was silent.
"And there's all this infighting over the next Minister for Magic – and meanwhile Riddle keeps getting stronger and stronger," James added, "You don't hear about it in the Prophet and I…"
They had reached the Fat Lady.
"…I guess I always thought I'd be excited to leave Hogwarts one day – that whatever my next step was, I'd have it all figured out," James said. "But now…I don't know what the world will look like when we leave this place."
The expression on Lily's features was inscrutable, and James inwardly berated himself for the second time that evening. Compared with her, what did he have to worry about? She was the Muggleborn, not him – shit, he'd waltz into a Ministry job if he wanted it, while she'd have to fight tooth, claw and nail for the Ministry just to take a look at her résumé.
He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry I said – I mean, I wasn't thinking…I should get to bed, we've got the Slug Club thing tomorrow and–"
"Wait," Lily interjected.
She reached her hand out to his shoulder, grasping the air above it.
"What on earth are you doing?" James asked.
Lily brought her hand – now clenched into a fist, and put it on her own shoulder. Then – to his bemusement – she repeated the gesture on the opposite side.
"I'm sharing the load."
"Sharing the what?"
She looked at him, her eyes now warm. A small smile played at the corner of her mouth.
"You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your own, James Potter."
A/N: Thanks for reading – reviews make the world go round.
