Chapter Thirteen - All About Lily, Nomomom
Charlotte stood by the drinks table, feeling increasingly out of place in the noisy, crowded common room. She had been here for less than fifteen minutes, and already, she was starting to regret her decision to attend.
Why had she even come? To prove something? To herself? To Lily? To James?
She scowled and poured herself another drink, taking a moment to down it in one go, letting the firewhiskey burn its way down her throat. At least the alcohol numbed some of the nervous energy pulsing through her.
She wasn't made for this—parties, crowds, socialising. Her place was in the shadows, buried in her books or lost in thought. And tonight, more than ever, she could feel the weight of eyes on her, tracking her every movement. It made her skin crawl, though she couldn't figure out why.
It wasn't just the usual stares—the ones that said, Who is she? What's she doing here? No, this felt different. More intentional. Like someone—or perhaps multiple someones—was watching her, trying to figure her out.
She let out an irritated sigh, her fingers curling tightly around the glass. Of course, she was being paranoid. Again. No one cared enough to watch her. They were all too busy with their own lives, their own dramas. She wasn't Lily, after all.
Still, the feeling persisted.
Her eyes darted toward the crowd, scanning the sea of faces for anything suspicious. She noticed James leaning against the wall, his gaze fixed on her. He didn't look away, didn't even try to hide that he was staring. She met his eyes for a brief second, but it was enough to send her heart into an uncomfortable rhythm.
She quickly looked away, her fingers tightening around the bottle she'd just grabbed. Get a grip, Charlotte, she scolded herself. This wasn't the time for overthinking—especially not about James Potter, of all people.
But before she could pour another drink, Sirius appeared out of nowhere, stepping up beside her with that familiar cocky grin.
"Well, if it isn't the mysterious Miss Evans," he drawled, leaning casually against the table as if they were the best of friends.
Charlotte rolled her eyes, pretending his presence didn't immediately make her uneasy. "Sirius," she muttered, her tone indifferent. She'd had enough of his flirty comments and mischievous grins to last a lifetime, and she wasn't in the mood to play along tonight.
Sirius, however, didn't seem to get the message. He gestured to the bottle in her hand. "Firewhiskey, huh? Bold choice. My personal favorite, actually."
"Of course it is," Charlotte replied dryly, pouring her drink with careful precision. She could feel his eyes on her, and for some reason, it made her hyper-aware of every movement, every breath she took.
"Cheers," Sirius said, lifting his own cup as if they were about to toast to something.
Charlotte didn't bother to raise her glass. She took a long sip instead, trying not to cringe at the way Sirius was watching her. He was too intense, too confident. She didn't like it.
"I don't like being stared at, Black," she finally snapped, unable to stop the irritation from creeping into her voice.
Sirius chuckled, clearly unfazed. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Can't help it, love. You're just... hard to ignore." He let his eyes sweep over her, lingering a little too long for comfort. "Especially tonight."
Charlotte's pulse quickened, and she forced herself to keep her expression neutral, even as her cheeks flushed with heat. His words had an undercurrent of something suggestive, and she wasn't sure if it was the alcohol in her system or the intensity in his gaze that made her feel unsettled.
"I wasn't flattering you, Evans," Sirius continued, his voice smooth and playful, his eyes never leaving hers. "Just being honest. I mean, look at you." His grin widened, his eyes sweeping over her once again. "As a couple, we're practically irresistible."
There it was. The boundary he had been pushing, ever so subtly.
Charlotte's fingers tightened around her glass, the tension between them crackling like static. She could feel it—the way his words slipped under her skin, unsettling her. And he knew it. That lazy smirk on his face told her he was fully aware of the effect he was having on her.
"Flattery doesn't suit you," she said, trying to sound unaffected, but her voice was sharper than she intended. "You're hardly irresistible."
Sirius let out a low, throaty laugh, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Ah, but we're not talking about me, are we?" His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. "We're talking about you."
She felt a shiver run down her spine at the suggestiveness in his tone, but she refused to let him see how much he was getting to her. Instead, she took another sip of her drink, her eyes narrowing at him.
"You're impossible," she muttered.
"And you," Sirius replied, his voice softening slightly, "are fun to tease." He winked at her, stepping back just enough to give her some space, though the playful gleam in his eyes remained.
Before she could respond, James appeared beside them, his presence shifting the entire dynamic of the conversation.
James leaned back against the wall, watching the scene unfold between Charlotte and Sirius. At first, it was just curiosity—he had been keeping an eye on Charlotte ever since she walked in, and watching her navigate Sirius' flirtatious advances had been, well, entertaining. But now, as he saw the way Sirius leaned in closer, his grin widening with every word, something twisted in James' gut.
It wasn't jealousy—no, of course not. He had no reason to be jealous. This was Sirius, after all. He flirted with everyone, and it never meant anything serious. But there was something about the way Sirius was looking at Charlotte that made James... uncomfortable.
He rolled his eyes as he watched Sirius say something else, leaning in even closer. Whatever he said, it had Charlotte tensing, her eyes narrowing as she gave him a sharp retort, though James couldn't quite hear the words from where he stood.
James clenched his jaw, willing himself to relax. This was ridiculous. Sirius was just being Sirius. And Charlotte... well, she could take care of herself. She had made that very clear. But despite knowing all of this, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling creeping over him.
Sirius was pushing his luck, as usual. And Charlotte, for all her biting sarcasm, seemed... off-balance. James had seen her handle herself around boys before, but something about the way she was reacting to Sirius felt different. She looked more flustered than usual, and it didn't sit well with James. Not at all.
He watched, his eyes narrowing as Sirius leaned in yet again, whispering something into Charlotte's ear. Her lips pressed into a thin line, her fingers curling tightly around her drink as she glared at him.
Merlin, Sirius, can't you dial it down for once?
"Careful there, mate," James muttered under his breath as Sirius leaned closer, clearly enjoying the game he was playing.
James couldn't take it any longer. Pushing off the wall, he made his way through the crowd, weaving past students who were too caught up in their own conversations to notice him. By the time he reached them, Sirius was mid-flirtation, grinning from ear to ear while Charlotte sipped her drink, seemingly unimpressed.
"Prongs!" Sirius greeted, clapping him on the shoulder. "Look who I found lurking near the drinks table. Our very own enigma."
James forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Evans," he said, his tone a little sharper than he intended.
Charlotte raised an eyebrow at him. "Potter," she replied coolly. He regretted his tone, instantly.
Sirius shot him a sideways glance, clearly sensing the tension but choosing to ignore it. "She's a tough nut to crack, I'll give her that," he said with a wink at Charlotte.
James rolled his eyes. "Maybe because you've got all the subtlety of a Hippogriff, Padfoot."
Sirius just laughed, clearly enjoying himself. James, however, wasn't amused. He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but the whole situation felt off. And then there was that nagging feeling at the back of his mind—something about Charlotte wasn't adding up, and he didn't like it.
He glanced at her again, noticing the way her shoulders were tense, her eyes darting around the room as though she were looking for an escape. James softened his tone slightly. "You alright, Evans?"
Charlotte shrugged, her eyes not meeting his. "Just fine, Potter. Though I'm starting to wonder why I'm here."
Sirius chuckled, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension. "You're here because it's Remus' birthday, and you wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"
Charlotte didn't respond, but James could see the discomfort written all over her face. She was out of place here, and they both knew it.
"You look nice tonight," James found himself saying, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Charlotte blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Thanks… I think."
James immediately felt the heat rise to his cheeks, his usual confidence wavering. "I mean—you know—nicer than usual. Not that you don't usually look nice!" He stumbled over his words, feeling the embarrassment creep up his neck. "I just... I mean, you look really... pretty."
He winced at himself, mentally cursing how awkward he sounded. This wasn't like him—he didn't usually get flustered, especially not around Charlotte. But here he was, standing in front of her, blushing like an idiot.
Sirius smirked, elbowing James. "Careful, mate. You're getting soft."
James ignored him, watching Charlotte closely. She wasn't like Lily—Lily would've laughed off Sirius' comments, but Charlotte seemed… different. Vulnerable, almost. He wasn't sure what to make of it.
James shifted awkwardly, the tension between them thickening as the conversation stalled. He wasn't sure what to say, but he could feel something brewing in the space between them—something unresolved. Charlotte was clearly holding back, and James wasn't about to leave things hanging.
"Look, Charlotte," he began, the words hesitant. "About the other day—I didn't mean to make it seem like we weren't friends. I just—"
"You just made it clear that this—" Charlotte gestured between the two of them, her voice sharp. "—is all about Lily."
James winced, feeling the weight of her words. "That's not what I meant."
"Isn't it?" Charlotte shot back, her eyes flashing. "You only started talking to me because of her. You said it yourself." She crossed her arms, her tone icy now. "We're not friends, Potter. We never were."
The shift in her tone—and the way she had so purposefully gone back to calling him 'Potter'—stung more than James cared to admit. She was distancing herself, pulling away in the only way she knew how. He opened his mouth to respond, but the look on her face—guarded, hurt—made him falter. She wasn't going to give him the benefit of the doubt, and he couldn't exactly blame her.
Sirius, sensing the shift, jumped in with a loud laugh, clapping James on the back with far too much enthusiasm. "Whoa there, folks! Let's not ruin the night with serious conversations, eh? It's a party!" He grinned, trying to break the tension. "How about we all just take a deep breath, yeah?"
Charlotte's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Sirius. "This doesn't concern you, Black."
Sirius held up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Just trying to lighten the mood." He glanced at James, his smirk faltering when he saw the look on his friend's face.
James rubbed the back of his neck, the weight of Charlotte's words pressing down on him. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Evans," he said quietly, reverting back to her last name, his voice softer now. But Charlotte just shook her head.
"You didn't," she said, her tone cold. "Because I never expected anything more."
Before he could respond, the door to the common room swung open with a soft creak, and in walked Lily, arm-in-arm with Alice. Their presence immediately changed the atmosphere. James straightened up reflexively, his eyes darting to Lily, while Charlotte tensed beside him.
Lily's gaze swept over the room, her expression one of mild surprise as she spotted her twin standing with James and Sirius. Her eyes narrowed, a flash of something unreadable crossing her face before she made her way over.
"Charlotte," Lily said, her voice a little too sharp for pleasantries. "What are you doing here?"
Charlotte rolled her eyes, the icy distance between the sisters suddenly palpable. "It's a party, Lily. What does it look like I'm doing?"
Lily's lips pressed into a thin line, her green eyes flickering from Charlotte to the firewhiskey in her hand, and back again. "This isn't your scene. You don't even—"
"Don't even what?" Charlotte cut her off, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't even belong here? Don't worry, Lil, I'm used to it."
Alice hovered beside Lily, clearly sensing the tension but staying silent, though she shot an uneasy glance toward James and Sirius. Sirius shifted awkwardly, running a hand through his hair, his usual confidence faltering in the charged atmosphere.
James, for his part, couldn't seem to decide where to look—Lily's arrival had thrown him off balance, and the biting tone between the sisters was making him increasingly uncomfortable. He shifted on his feet, wondering if there was a way to quietly slip away before things got ugly.
The air between the sisters was charged, and James could practically see the storm clouds gathering. He had seen them bicker before, but this felt different—sharper, rawer. He had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to end with just words.
Sirius nudged him with an elbow, raising an eyebrow in question. James shook his head, subtly mouthing, "Not good."
He glanced back at Charlotte, whose grip on her glass had tightened, and at Lily, who was clearly seconds away from losing her cool.
Hexes weren't out of the question, and James was getting the distinct feeling that if he didn't find a way to steer things away from the impending explosion, someone was going to end up in the hospital wing.
He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice light. "Right. So, um... anyone up for another drink?"
But his weak attempt at humor fell flat, and the tension between the Evans sisters only thickened. James could feel himself getting drawn into the brewing storm, and suddenly, all he wanted was a way out.
Maybe, just maybe, he could slip away before it all came to blows.