Twisted and Spinning
Bewilderment
Disclaimer: In no part do I own anything of J.K. Rowling's work. This is written for fun, not for money, so she needn't begrudge me any of my innocent fanfiction.
"Hogwarts, that Dastardly School"
Lily Evans was considered noble by some, a hero by many, and a slag by James Potter. He asked her out more than once, only to have her red-gold hair be shaken at him for his pains. Not so much a slag as choosy, a gorgeous prude, and that didn't go by the rules of James Potter.
Of course his opinion always seemed to change regarding her, if only to himself, and this confused him. He liked his women blonde and his card-game strip-blackjack, his drink shaken, not stirred. He read the comics in the morning and folded his paper twice, and he knew what type of humor to use on the ladies. Most were not up for crude potty-jokes, and he knew this. Sirius Black, for instance, had made this mistake many times, and still slipped up by the time James was silver-tongued from experience.
Lily Evans was disgusted by him, considered him slimy, and brushed past him in the hall every time she saw him. She controlled the flipping of her heart when she saw him, and the twitch of her hand. He never knew that her body was calling for his, and the effort to keep herself in control made her seem harsher and cooler than usual.
But you will discover this for yourself when the tale is done, for I knew Lily Evans like no one else. I watched her undergo trials and tribulations and handed her tissues when her tears overflowed. But she said all her troubles started at Hogwarts, that dastardly school, and that she'd always known James Potter was slightly crazy. Hell, what was that statistic that said 70 of first guesses are correct? Intuition, all of that. She should have known, she said.
I will tell you her story when she cannot. Listen closely, you of the future, for you cannot find this story any other place.
Things were uneventful at Hogwarts for Lily up until fifth year. Before that, she was happy, immature, and glowing with health. In her fifth year, after her fifteenth birthday, she blossomed into a blushing, graceful thing of smoky green eyes and golden-red hair. Her skin was white and flawless, and she and James Potter were on friendly terms, for once.
Before fifth year, not too much happened. There was the usual nervousness as to which house she'd be sorted into, but she was pleased with the house she was put in. Gryffindor, home of belles and gentlemen, and she felt she'd be happy with her kinsmen.
And she was, up until fifth year. In her fifth year, James asked her out four times, and she refused him each and every circumstance. She turned down chances of moonlit walks, gambols in Hogsmeade, and flowers that were a surprise. And all because of Gabriella.
Gabriella danced forever—lap dances in clubs, flamenca in the hallways, and tap on the dinner tables. "James Potter," she said, tilting Lily's pale chin up, "can go to the dogs."
Gabriella had fallen in love with James years before.
Lily beaded her hair and learned to dance gracefully, a doe picking her feet daintily up to avoid smashing daisies. Around the fall of fifth year, she could dance lightly and awesomely, her toes pointed and her knees not seeming so sharp.
On the day of October fifth, she was on the Quidditch field, learning a new type of step she could use to regular music. "No, no!" Gabriella, that witch, cried. "It's ra-da-da-da-da!"
Lily tried again to get it right, but she fell, exhausted, onto the springy turf. "Gabriella, can we take a break? I want to learn this, I really do, but I cannot concentrate right now."
"Are we going to have any kind of dance ready for the party after the next match?" Gabriella scolded.
"Look, honey!" Lily cried. "James is about to go practice flying!" This comment came out of nowhere, but Lily couldn't think of any faster way to distract Gabriella.
Gabriella couldn't resist one more dig. "He knows he has to practice."
Lily remained silent as the aforementioned James flew over them, looping as he flashed a smile down at them. Gabriella looked up at him, waving and grinning, but he only had eyes for Lily, who only had eyes for her fingernails.
"Alright," sighed Lily, heaving herself off of the grass that had felt so heavenly. "Let's practice one more time. I am going to get it."
Gabriella lifted one hand, twirling, over her head; "Let's begin," she said.
Lily meshed her hands together and stretched them out, hearing her knuckles crack as she emotionally prepared herself. Before she could move, she felt the wind being knocked out of her as James swooped down and picked her up, his strong arms flexing as they locked around her own. And as Lily flew past her best friend, Gabriella, she saw her face fall.
"Wait—" Gabriella started to call, almost involuntarily. She bit her lip quickly and stood awkwardly with her elbows crossed.
Meanwhile, Lily was lifted up and experienced vertigo with a vengeance. She couldn't tell if it was because of the height, or because the shock of it, or even just because James Potter was touching her. Later, she denied it, but when she told me about it, she was starry-eyed and positively awestruck; her eyes were dreamy, open wide. "Don't tell Gabriella," she whispered, her hand flicking back a hair that had come loose. "She'll be…devastated." And there was a sort of pleasure in her eyes, the triumph that she had that much power over another girl like herself. She hadn't yet understood the power that James had over her.
On the field, Gabriella crossed her elbows again and twisted her feet, one around the other. On the broom, a giddy Lily let go of James and spread her arms out. There was a sudden flinch of the broom, and it must have told James something, for she was put back down on the ground directly. Gabriella cartwheeled again, and Lily pranced towards the twenty meters or so the two were apart. The brunette smiled shakily, and Lily said, "What about that step?"
The next day, James made further advances to talk to Lily, and Gabriella made further advances to keep them apart. Before James waved at Lily in the hallway, Gabriella looked for warning signs. She, an avid James-watcher, knew what signs to search for: the sudden light of a smile, his hands flattening themselves, ready for the perfect wave. Gabriella dropped her books once, almost fell against a wall twice, and three times whispered something in Lily's ear.
Lily came to me, for she, clever girl, had noticed this. For all her cunning, Gabriella wasn't as subtle as she might have been. When I saw Lily, the beginnings of sadness were starting to darken her eyes. I knew her so well that I could predict in how long she'd be crying. This time, many moments didn't pass before it all came out. "I know she likes James! I know it, I know it!" she shrieked, all her indignant thoughts pouring out. "But that doesn't mean she has to try and, and, connive me! I mean, I've always respected this! This, this, piece of stupidity on her part. If he likes me, so be it. How can she not have considered that I may like him, too?"
Five, four, three, two—"But I want to be loved!" Lily sobbed, throwing her face down on the pillow. "How come she can't see that?"
I knew that Gabriella wouldn't sacrifice James for her best friend. Stubborn, stubborn Gabriella knew that any other guy would be absorbed in Lily and Lily's personality. And as long as she felt James was her territory, Gabriella would make sure Lily wasn't going to get so much as the time of day from James.
But dear Lily, always caught up in her own problems, couldn't see this. Of course Gabriella was her friend, of course Gabriella would do anything to help her.
We all saw it coming, from me to Sirius, from Sirius to his girlfriend, Sherry. I think even the teachers saw this poisonous relationship that nothing but harm could come from. And I would always choke on this knowledge that I couldn't share.
If only Lily knew this—that, in the end, Gabriella would be her ruin.