A/N: Hey guys! Long time no update, I know, and I'm really sorry! Thanks to everyone who's reviewed – I love you all!
This is quite a short little chapter, but I think you'll like it! Anyways, let's go – and you know the drill, please review =)
Lots of love, crushed-Lilyflower xxxxx
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Chapter Six
(Lily's point of view)
I stare fixedly at the page of Transfiguration through the Years, willing the blurred words to refocus and somehow impress some knowledge onto my brain. The library is crammed with seventh years, all of us attempting to break into our ever mounting work loads, which the teachers don't seem to understand is physically impossible to keep on top of. And there are several things distracting me from my homework at this point:
1. General lack of sleep.
2. Mark Waterston, a seventh year Hufflepuff, relentlessly staring at me from the other side of the desk I'm working at.
3. My mind continually straying to the subject of James Potter.
I blink my eyes back into focus, wrench my mind back to the present and force myself to read the passage bit by bit.
…the conversion of inanimate objects to living organisms has been practised since the early seventeenth century… "--We had a real motivation, I suppose. We had a purpose--" William Yewell successfully transfigured a needle into an earthworm late 1632, resulting in other contemporary wizards experimenting with and developing this branch of magic.—"we'd transform with Moony and stay with him through the night--" The spell, victari animatus, is now commonly taught in wizarding schools as an early basis for the art of transfiguration, the wand movement being… "--We started to try to think of ways to help our friend straight away--"
I sigh exasperatedly, slamming the book shut in frustration. Over the past week I've been completely unable to empty my mind of him: of what he said, of how sincere he'd been, of what he's done for Remus. His words continually reverberate through my mind, interrupting my thoughts and distracting me from anything I try to do. Every time he approaches me to talk, I murmur a hurried excuse and jet as fast as possible, terrified that he might somehow sense how unnerved and confused I am. This proved to be quite a challenge, what with bumping into him at breakfast, lunch and dinner, in the common room and on patrol…and today we have the weekly one to one Head Boy/Head Girl meeting, and my luck has definitely run out. There is no earthly way we can have a one to one meeting and not speak. I'm going to have to listen to what he's got to say at last…and then try to understand why I'm so nervous around him…I think maybe it's because my whole opinion of him, which I've been building up for years, has suddenly been overturned, it's as if—
"Evans?" a voice stirs me from my thoughts. "Evans…I'm trying to talk to you…"
I look up dazedly; "huh--?"
It takes me several moments to realise that the owner of the voice is Mark, and that he is grinning madly at me. "Wow," he says. "What were you thinking?"
"Nothing," I reply at once. "Nothing whatsoever, I was actually in a state of flux, my mind was blank and I was merely caught somewhere between being awake and asleep, half asleep, if you like--" I cut myself off when I catch sight of Mark's expression. He is eyeing me as if I'm insane.
"Well, now that you're back from your…'flux'," he smiles, "I was wondering whether you were thinking of going to Hogsmeade next weekend?"
"I was," I respond conversationally, "Alice and Marlene want me to relax a bit and go shopping with them, but I can't because I'm completely swamped at the moment and if the common room's going to be empty it's a great time to get some work done--" And then with a jolt, realisation dawns. "Wait…you're asking me out!"
He laughs. "Well observed."
I simply stare blankly.
He takes a more direct approach; "Lily, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"
Trying not to appear flustered, I stare him down. Now that I'm looking properly, I realise he's actually rather good looking. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A strong jaw line…
My eyes travel down, and I note that toned arms are visible even through a shirt. Nice.
He's smart; I know by reputation that he got about ten Os in his OWLs. I'd go so far as to say he's as clever as me. And he's perfectly nice and chatty.
...So why don't I want to say 'yes'?
He's perfect boyfriend material on paper…But he's not…
He doesn't have that thing…
He's just not--not quite…
…he's not James.
I stand up abruptly, trying not to hyperventilate, and hear my chair crashing to the ground behind me. 'He's not James'? Oh...my...God.
The reason I don't want to date the perfect Mark Waterston is because he's not James Potter?! How could this happen?!
"Are you okay?" perfect Mark asks me, looking genuinely concerned for my health.
"I can't," I stutter, "I can't go out with you, sorry—it's not—I have a lot of homework, and Head Duties…"
His jaw drops. Clearly he's not used to rejection. I suppose that part of him is slightly reminiscent of Potter.
"Wait a minute," he shakes his head slowly. "You're turning me down?"
I nod, still trying hard to keep breathing, and give an apologetic head tilt. I need to get out of here—find Alice or Marlene…or go to the room--
"You're turning me down for homework?" He looks utterly incredulous. "You know what, Evans? My friends were right; you're just not worth it. What everyone says about you is true…" he trails off.
I forget my panic momentarily, and instead I feel a stab of annoyance. Is he really so egotistical that he has to lash out at me just because I've turned him down? Do all vaguely good looking boys think they're God's gifts to women? "Oh, yeah? What does everyone say about me, then?" I challenge.
He opens his mouth to retort, but snaps it shut a moment later, eyeing something to my left warily. In my peripheral vision I see Madam Pince approaching us, no doubt to throw us out for making noise in her beloved library. She halts at our desk, hands on her hips, peering down her nose disapprovingly.
"Miss Evans, people are trying to study!" she hisses, "either we will have silence, or you will leave. Understood?"
"Sorry," I mumble in her direction. I glower at Mark. 'Miss Evans?' Why am I being personally victimised by the insane librarian? It's hardly my fault I raised my voice and knocked my chair over; I was provoked!
"Sorry, Madam Pince, we'll keep it down," perfect suck-up Mark simpers. God, he's annoying.
She nods curtly to him and continues on to round on her next victims, a group of girls who seem to be keeping perfectly silent to me. Perhaps she thinks they're breathing too loudly. Uptight bitch.
"Go on then," I lower my voice to a hurried whisper, "what do they all say about me?" I persist.
He smiles maliciously. "That you're a boring, stuck up cow, who thinks she's better than everyone else just because she spends all of her non-existent life doing homework."
A white hot dart of anger flies through me. Too infuriated to even form words, I throw Mark a look of pure hatred, grab my bag from under the table, throw my books into it, stand my chair upright again and storm off without a backwards glance.
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(James' point of view)
Breathe, James, just keep breathing.
Students in the halls are blurred in motion as I streak past them as fast as humanly possible on my way back to the Head tower. I know I'm at least twenty minutes late, but no time to stop, not even to check my watch…
Evans really is going to flip this time. As if the girl isn't unhinged enough, this must be pushing it to the maximum, she might finally crack. Things are already strained between us as it is. She's been avoiding me like the plague ever since last Saturday…
Nerves tug at my insides as I jog a shortcut from the fourth floor to the seventh. Not only does Lily think tardiness should be punishable by law, but the meeting which will hopefully commence after she's finished with me for arriving late is going to be awkward as hell as it's the first time we've actually spoken since the Marauder's secrets were dramatically revealed last week. I've got no idea what she's thinking at the moment…I've got no idea what she thinks of me...
Yep, definitely nervous now.
Gasping for breath and clutching a stitch in my side, I finally burst in through the door to our common room, and look around frantically for a flash of red hair. Simultaneously I thrust a hand into my robes' pocket for my wand; I may need to defend myself.
But the room's empty. She's not here. What? Surely she can't be late too? She's never late. It just doesn't happen.
Oh…Merlin…I bet she's already been and gone. I bet she gave up and left in a rage, armed with her wand, to hunt me down…
But why wouldn't she just wait for me to come to her? I suppose she knows I have quidditch today; it's not hard to figure out where I've been or where she has to go to find me. Perhaps she'd have enjoyed the added bonus of of being able to hex me in front of my team.
Or maybe she's not even going to show? She has been avoiding me all week, jetting fast as lightening whenever I was anywhere in the vicinity. Maybe she can't bring herself to face me one to one, maybe she's too worried about whatever it is she's worried about. I'll admit, I was dreading it too…but still, I can't see that she'd ever let personal problems interfere with her Head duties. She's too committed for that…
So where is she?
As if in answer to my unspoken question, at that moment, the door bangs open, and Lily stops abruptly in her tracks when her eyes make contact with mine. Immediately, I can sense that she's very, very upset. She looks thunderous; anger is practically coming off of her in waves. I grit my teeth and jump straight in with an apology, better to stop her before she has the chance to get into her stride;
"I'm sorry, Lily," I whine. "I couldn't get away, Sirius kept trying to get me to practise this new strategy for the Ravenclaw match--"
I cut myself off there, because looking more closely at her I see that she looks completely nonplussed by my apology. Moreover, I notice that her eyes are slightly red around the rims…her makeup is smudged and her cheeks are tearstained.
She's been crying.
I open and close my mouth like a goldfish out of water. Crying girls are not my specialty.
"What are you talking about, Potter?" she asks me wearily, running a hand through her hair.
"Well, I'm late…" I explain. "I thought that was why you came in looking like you wanted to kill someone." Oh, nice one, James. Make an inappropriate, rubbish joke instead of offering your sympathy. She'll love that.
To my astonishment, Lily laughs shakily. "No," she replies, "for once it's not your assassination I'm trying to plot." Sighing, she closes the door behind her and comes in to collapse miserably on the couch. She looks up at me, the hint of a smile turning the corners of her mouth. I smile back, but a moment later and her face falls. She looks...broken. It makes me ache.
"Are you okay?" I ask, stepping forward and sitting beside her. "What's the matter?"
There's a long pause, where I guess that she's trying to decide whether or not to confide in me. Then she takes a deep breath. "You know that guy in Hufflepuff, Mark Waterston?"
Ugh, that tosser. I wrinkle my nose. If he's done anything to hurt Lily I will emasculate him. "Yeah, I know him," I respond. "What's he done?"
"He asked me out," she says slowly. The monster of jealousy stirs within me, but I try to keep my expression politely curious while I wait for her to finish. "Oh, I said 'no'," she assures me, perhaps catching sight of my failed attempt at a neutral expression.
"You did?" I try unsuccessfully to keep the elation from my voice.
She laughs again, "yeah." The hint of a blush threatens to colour her cheeks, and as much as I'm dying to know why, I know better than to ask. "Anyway," she goes on. "When I turned him down, he didn't take it too well…"
I raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"He said…" her voice wavers. "Well, he said that…" She gulps, a single tear rolls down her cheek.
"Hey," I say softly. Instinctively and suddenly, I shuffle closer and put an arm around her. The closeness of our bodies becomes very apparent to me; I realise we've never so much as shaken hands before. To my utter disbelief she does not shrug me off, hit me, hex me or even shout at me. She turns to look at me, her beautiful emerald eyes closer than I've ever seen them, and I feel the tense muscles in her shoulders physically relax at my touch. "It's okay," I give her a little squeeze.
"He said that everyone thinks I'm a boring, stuck up cow," she mumbles. "And that I think I'm better than everyone else."
Anger pulses in my veins. How dare he tell her that? I knew I hated him.
Her eyes search mine. "Do you think I'm boring and stuck up?"
Is she joking? Boring? She's possibly the most fascinating specimen on the entire planet. And if there is anyone less stuck up than Lily Evans, I've yet to find them. How many other people would befriend Severus Snape? How many other people would stand up to James Potter for him? She sees people, she understands and relates to people, and she's determined to see the good in everyone around her. Anyone could see that.
"No," I murmur. "Of course I don't think that." She smiles, some of the usual warmth returning to her eyes. "And seriously, Evans," I add, "just say the word and Mark's a footnote in history."
She elicits another shaky laugh. "Thanks, Potter," she whispers.
I reach out to gently push a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, ever waiting for the moment where she rebukes me, swats my hand away and tells me to leave her alone, but it never comes. Every tiny noise, every rustle of her shirt, every one of her slightly ragged breaths seems amplified. It's as if my dull senses have suddenly been switched on fully…her scent is intoxicating…
"Lily." I try to keep my voice steady. I hear her breathing accelerate. "Lily," I repeat. "Can I still have my seven chances?"
She considers me for a moment, looking into my eyes intently. I don't know what she sees there, but she must have found some confirmation, because a moment later and a slow grin spreads over her face, and she nods. "As punishment for being late the last time, and then lying to me, you are only allowed three."
Yes! Result!
"Piece of cake," I wink at her. "I bet you're only giving me less chances because you're terrified you'll fall for me," I tease.
She rolls her eyes and slowly gets to her feet. I knew we couldn't stay there forever, with my arm around her, but when she moves away I wish more than anything that she would come back.
Don't move away, Lily.
She turns on the balls of her feet to look back down at me, arching an eyebrow. "Terrified I'll fall for you?" she echoes. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Yeah," she says. "Maybe I am."
Several emotions flow through me in quick succession: shock, elation, and then excitement.
Oh…my…bloody…God.
My jaw drops, and my eyes widen. I stare up at her incredulously. Is this her idea of a joke? Or is she honestly considering that possibility? My heartrate quickens at the mere thought of it...
"Sorry, but I'm really not feeling up to the Head meeting tonight...mind if we postpone it 'til tomorrow?" Still in my stunned stupor, I close my mouth and nod quickly. "Goodnight, James," she chuckles, and I follow her with my eyes in wonder as she goes up to her room.
This has got to be the best day…ever.
'Terrified I'll fall for you?...Yeah, maybe I am.'
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A/N: Talk to me! Please review, I really, reallllyy appreciate it =)