TITLE: "Crossroads"
AUTHOR: Emmyjean (emmyjeanb@yahoo.com)
CLASSIFICATION: J/L
RATING: PG-13
Summary: In her seventh and final year at
Hogwarts, Lily Evans finds herself facing a tragedy that leaves her life in
pieces. In her struggle to find her way in a suddenly unfamiliar world, she
finds strength she never knew existed – both within herself and in a boy she’d
always thought she’d known.
DISCLAIMER: Without JK Rowling, none of
this would exist. Thanks to her for letting me play with her creation.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: This fic has been
REVISED AS OF JULY, 2003 to fit with Order of the
CHAPTER TEN: Testing the Limits
Lily slowly opened
her eyes, feeling like she was on fire.
Sitting up, she gingerly brought her hand up to wipe the blood from her
mouth just as Dumbledore’s voice broke through the ringing in her ears.
“Excellent,
Lily nodded, the
corners of her mouth turning slightly upward as she caught James’ eye. “Yes...I’m fine. It was a good hit.”
“Now, Miss Evans,”
Dumbledore continued above the din being caused by the rest of the class as
they practiced their dueling skills, “I must congratulate you on keeping hold
of your wand...in an intense duel that could mean the difference between life
and death. What could you have done to
prevent that hit?”
As he asked the
question, he reached a hand down to help her to her feet. Standing and brushing herself off, a bit
impressed herself at the fact that her wand was still gripped tightly in her
hand, she replied, “I got distracted...Tim had just bumped into me and I turned
my head.”
“Exactly,” he
replied, then raised his voice so that the whole group could hear him, “When
involved in a situation where you are fighting for your life, it requires total
concentration. In that moment, the only
things whose existence you care about are yourself and your opponent...oh, and
both of your wands, as well.”
A ripple of
laughter went through the class, and Dumbledore continued, “While we’re on the
subject, I want to say a few things about wands. As you all well know if you happened to
purchase your wands from Mr. Ollivander, the wand chooses the wizard...or
witch. This is no small bit of
information...it means that your wand is not merely a tool or a weapon. It is your
tool, your weapon...and also your
most trusted ally in dangerous circumstances.
You and your wand together possess strength is certain areas, and are
not as formidable in others. It is your
responsibility to know these strengths and weaknesses, and in battle, how well
you know the capabilities of your wand as it is used by you – it’s wizard – can
save your life.”
There was a
silence after Dumbledore was finished speaking as everyone pondered what he had
said to them. Lily absently swiped the
last bit of blood from her lip as she stood there contemplating, and after a
moment Dumbledore looked at the old clock on his desk.
“Oh, my...it’s
already past eleven o’clock. You are all
dismissed, and get a good night’s rest...you have your lessons tomorrow.”
Tim gave him an
incredulous look and asked, “Professor, couldn’t we have a pass? At least for the first lesson of the day?”
Dumbledore winked
at him and turned to leave, calling, “Aurors do not receive passes, Mr.
Connelly. Consider it part of your
training.”
A few people
laughed and there were some sighs as everyone collected their things. Lily calculated it in her head...if she were
to head straight back to the dorms and go straight to bed, she’d get about six
and a half hours of sleep. A voice broke
through her thoughts as she hoisted her unusually large pile of books onto her
hip.
“What are all
those?”
She glanced up at
James, who was slinging his bag over his shoulder and nodding at her
books. She smiled a bit sheepishly and
replied, “Yeah, well...perhaps I did go overboard a bit. I realized today that I haven’t been to the
library in almost a
James
frowned. “What are you talking
about? We have the meeting there every
week.”
“No, I mean I
haven’t really been there...to take
out books or anything. The meetings
don’t count...in fact, they make it worse, because I can’t even say I didn’t
have time to go.”
James blew out a
huff of laughter as they made their way down the corridors to the Gryffindor
common room, Sirius following behind them.
“Whatever you say. Here, let me
take some of those.”
She let him
relieve her of a couple of the bigger volumes.
“Thanks.”
He nodded, then
said, “Hey, listen...sorry about that lip.”
Lily cut him
off. “Oh, please...don’t apologize. It was a great hit! Anyway, it was payback for that gash on your
face.”
James’ brow
furrowed as he reached a hand up to his jaw and felt the cut she’d given him
earlier in the dueling session. “Huh...I
forgot all about that.”
A chuckle sounded
from behind them and they both turned to find Sirius grinning wolfishly at
James. “Yeah...you won’t forget about it
ever again. It looks like it’s going to
leave a huge scar.”
Frowning, James
replied, “Right, and you’d know.”
“You think I’m
joking?” Sirius asked solemnly, even though it was clear he was joking, “I’m serious...”
“Piss off,” James
shot over his shoulder, even though he was starting to smile.
Lily shrugged,
“Well...I was enjoying it.”
“Speaking of
enjoyable activities,” Sirius mentioned, “We might want to pick a time when we
can finish that blasted potion. I, for
one, wouldn’t mind spending a solid afternoon on it if it meant we could be
done with it.”
“Sounds fine to me,”
Lily replied, “I wanted to get it done before the NEWTS anyway.”
“Good, let’s do it
Sunday.”
“
They walked in
silence for a moment before James mumbled, “Ours is finished already.”
Lily tutted and
Sirius snorted, growling, “I wouldn’t be proud of this...it means you have a
poor excuse for a social life.”
James quirked a
brow and said, “I don’t know what that says about you, then, because you are my
social life.”
They laughed, and
then walked in companionable silence the rest of the way to the Tower. It felt like there was a piece missing
without Arabella, but somehow Lily didn’t miss her as much as she would have
thought...she supposed it was because she knew Arabella was already out there,
preparing to make a difference. Lily
envied her more than anything else, and she felt so grateful to Dumbledore for
subtly acknowledging the reality of the circumstances surrounding that
fight. He knew as well as Lily herself
did that Arabella was a strong, independent, intellegent witch who would excel at
whatever she threw herself into, and the Ministry should be thanking their
stars that she was going to be on their side.
At the base of the
dormitory staircase they said goodnight and parted ways, and Lily was glad to
crawl into her bed...her chest was still sore from being hit by that
curse. Wasting no time, she turned over
and fell asleep.
~~
The next day was
fairly uneventful. As she sat through
her lessons, she couldn’t take her mind off of the articles in the Daily
Prophet she’d read over breakfast...talking about the increasing danger, the
Ministry, how no one quite knew what was going to happen next. It was all very frightening, but somehow it
made Lily want to be involved. Part of
it was due to the massive void her parents deaths had left in her life and the
intense loss she felt when she thought of them, but it was also because she
truly believed she could possibly make a difference. As guilty as she felt about it, she couldn’t
help thinking that all of this – their lessons and Hogwarts – just wasn’t as
important as it had once been. She felt
she’d outgrown the place, and she just wanted to get out of there and go do
something real.
The only class she
fully appreciated anymore was Dumbledore’s class, and that wasn’t even a normal
lesson. She simply had to continue to
get through the days and focus on her NEWTS so that she could at least feel
that she’d always done her best when she finally walked out of the castle for
the last time at the end of this year...and as impatient as she felt to have
that happen, it was still a sad thought.
Later that night,
she sat in the common room with Helen, who was talking to her about something
that had happened in Potions. Lily
wasn’t listening...she was staring at her friend’s blonde head and wondering why
she hadn’t confided in her more, since Arabella had gone. Lily contemplated hers and Helen’s entire
relationship as she waited for James to get back from Quidditch practice. She didn’t quite know when it had happened,
but somewhere along the way, she and Helen had grown in different
directions. They’d shared a dorm since
the beginning of their time at Hogwarts...but over time Helen had mostly made
friends with the Hufflepuffs, and Arabella and Lily had formed an unusually
strong bond. It wasn’t that Helen wasn’t
her friend...but Lily kept the deepest and darkest of her secrets and thoughts
for Arabella only.
No, not Arabella
only, she corrected herself. Now James
as well. Life was truly strange.
After what seemed like
forever, James came through the portrait hole with the rest of the team, wet
from the rain. His eyes scanned the room
and immediately found her, then he walked over and stopped in front of her.
“Hey...d’you want
to go for a walk?”
Lily glanced at Helen,
who was now speaking with a couple of sixth year girls, and then frowned back
up at him. “Now?”
He smiled a little
and replied, “Has to be now. I’ve got to
do something.”
“What?”
Raising his
eyebrows at her, he asked, “Do you want to go or not?”
Lily shrugged and
followed James’ lead out the portrait hole.
“Alright, come
on...what is it?”
“Hmm?” he
murmured, still smiling and refusing to look at her.
Heaving a
frustrated sigh that was only half genuine, she asked, “What is it you have to
do?”
Giving his head a
shake, he replied, “See, this is quite the predicament for me, because if I
tell you now you might turn right back around and refuse to come with me.”
This heightened
her curiosity, if not her enthusiasm.
“Well, as confident as that makes me feel, I’d still like to make this
important decision based on facts and not guesswork...so would you please spit
it out?”
Laughing and
finally giving in, he glanced at her and confessed, “It’s my turn to clean the
Quidditch shed.”
Nodding, she made
a face and turned on her heel. He
laughed harder and caught her arm, pleading, “Come on...I swear I’ll make it
fun.”
Facing him again,
she asked, “How could you possibly make that job fun?”
He shrugged. “If there’s anyone who could, it’s me. Please?”
“I don’t understand
why you have to do this right now!” she protested, glancing out the window at
the fading twilight.
“Oh, and you had
something better to do, Miss Bookworm?”
Narrowing her eyes
to slits in mock annoyance, she replied, “At least a book would provide me with
good company.”
He winced and put
a hand to his chest. “Ouch, Evans. That hurt.”
She shook her head
and started walking again, never having had any intention of turning back. “I suppose I should give you an opportunity
to prove me wrong.”
Following behind
her, he replied, “Right...thanks a lot.”
She slowed so he
could catch up, but he still remained a step behind her. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, “Well,
come on! Don’t lag behind.”
He grinned at her
and quickly caught up. “Sorry. Now d’you see why I had to bring you? Where would I be otherwise?”
“Stop making fun.”
Glancing at her,
he replied, “I’m not.”
Once they were
well on their way to the pitch, she turned and gazed at the silhouette of the
castle against the darkening sky. “Do you
remember the first time you saw it?”
“What?”
“Hogwarts.”
“Sure,” he
replied, turning to glance at it as well, “Everyone does. I was...maybe four years old.”
She looked up at
him in surprise as they continued walking.
“Four?”
Nodding, he
explained, “My dad used to be on some
committee...I don’t know what it was, but it had something to do with the
rebuilding projects they had to coordinate right after the Grindelwald
era. I used to go with him sometimes
when I was a young boy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah...you know
how you go back to a place that you visited when you were a kid, and it seems
so much smaller when you experience it as an adult?”
“Yeah...I do.”
He paused for a
moment, his eyes scanning the horizon, before finishing, “It never happened
with Hogwarts. It never lost anything as
I grew up...it never seemed to diminish at all.
But lately...is it just me, or is the place starting to feel a bit
claustrophobic?
“Yeah,” she
agreed, relief coarsing through her unexpectedly as she received confirmation
that she was not the only one who felt held back, “I feel it, too. All I want to do these days is get out of
here. Everything just seems so...”
She hesitated, and
he provided, “Pointless?”
“Yes,
exactly. I just can’t stand sitting in
class anymore.”
Smirking, he
replied, “I know. I don’t think I’ve
ever seen you spend so much time staring wistfully out the window...and if
you’re not doing that, you’re looking at your watch.”
Lily shrugged, a
bit red-faced. “I can’t help it. There’s so much to worry about now. Hearing the details of how juniper berries
aid in the soothing of a pixie bite just doesn’t seem to hold the appeal it
once did.”
Raising an
eyebrow, James replied, “Right, well...I never
would have found that appealing, but I know what you mean.”
She tutted, and
they walked on in silence for a moment.
She enjoyed the mild breeze and mused over whatever came into her head,
and then a thought struck her. Looking
over at him, she noted quietly, “I don’t think you’ve ever talked to me about
your family before.”
He seemed a bit
surprised at the sudden comment, but soon recovered and shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. My Mum and Dad are just the same as they’ve
always been. I don’t have any brothers
or sisters, so ever since I was a boy, my parents have simply expected me to
succeed...and I made sure I did. I knew
it was what they wanted.”
She took this
opportunity to comment in an exaggeratedly bitter voice, “Maybe that’s why you’re so effortlessly good
in your lessons.”
“No,” he replied
wryly, smiling over at her, “That’s
because I’m a genius.”
She rolled her
eyes and laughed as he continued, “I mean, I had my rebellious streak. I reckoned that if I was going to work my
arse off for top marks, I was at least entitled to break every rule in the book
while I did it.”
“I know,” she said
dryly, “I was the one doling out the
punishment.”
He looked down at
her and grinned wolfishly, “Yeah, you thought
you were punishing me. Half the time I
broke the rules just so that you would come and tell me off.”
He seemed
abominably smug about this. “Excuse me?”
“Well...first I
fancied you, so it was a way to get attention.
Then I hated you so I wanted a fight.
Either way...”
“Either way,
you’re a git.”
He snorted, then
fell into silence. It seemed as if he was done with the conversation and wasn’t
going to say anything more. She,
however, wasn’t quite satisfied...it was dawning on her just how little she
knew about his life, and she wanted to persue it for a bit longer as long as
the subject had already been broached.
“Sirius speaks
well of them, anyway,” she observed, glancing furitively up at him. He looked down at her, and she quickly looked
back down at the path they were treading to the pitch.
“Does he?”
She nodded, and he
prodded lightly, “When?”
“Not often...just
once, actually. It was something he said
one day when we were working on that potion...I can’t even remember exactly
what it was.”
James nodded,
eyebrows raised a bit. He looked a
little astonished that Sirius would bring it up at all, and she wondered if
perhaps she shouldn’t have said it, even though it was the truth. When he spoke again, though, he merely
sounded pensive.
“I know Sirius
respects my parents...well, as much as he can,
anyway. He’s not much for authority
figures.”
“Really?” she
asked sarcastically, “I would never have guessed.”
He shot her a
look, and then went on, “Still...he’s not really one to judge. His family are a load of nutters. You knew Bellatrix well enough, so that
should give you some idea.”
Lily was shocked. “Yes, I...as much as I cared to know her,
anyway. I sort of thought that she was the black sheep...”
“No,” he
interrupted firmly, his voice hard, “Sirius is most definitely the odd
one. He’s been practically
disowned...the whole lot of them have always taken great pride in being
connected with Slytherin at Hogwarts.”
Lily nodded,
realization dawning and making her feel more than a little sorry at how she’d
apparently always underestimated Sirius Black’s complexity. “So...I imagine, then, that it wasn’t welcome
news when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor.”
James laughed and
quirked a brow at her. “You could say
that, yeah. Anyway, my parents always
let me bring him to spend holidays with us...and they were always very good to
him.”
They’d arrived at
the shed, and as James opened the door a cloud of dust choked her.
“Oh, you’ve got to
be kidding,” she muttered as she stepped through the door into the musty
space. He illuminated the small torches
on the walls, bathing the room in light, and she could see that there was quite
a bit of work to be done. He turned and
looked at her, then laughed at the look on her face.
“Relax...I’ll do
the work, you just sit down. Here’s a
bench.”
He bent, grabbing
hold of a rickety wooden bench that had been pushed against the wall and
hauling it over to her. Setting it down,
he shrugged and commented, “Looks comfortable, right?”
“Yeah...lovely,”
she replied sarcastically, but sat down anyway.
As he began by organizing the equipment, she thought about continuing
with the conversation about his family.
She felt insatiable...now that she knew a little, she wanted to know
everything. After all, she reasoned, he
knew everything there was to know about her life beyond Hogwarts. Feeling a bit out of her element talking about
something that she knew nothing about, she commented, “Why don’t
you ever talk about your family?”
He was pulling a
bundle of brooms from where they’d been unceremoniously deposited in the
corner. Picking one up and examining it,
he asked distractedly, “Don’t I?”
Thinking maybe she
shouldn’t be doing this, she pressed, “No, you don’t.”
Pulling his wand
out of his back pocket and starting to trim the bristles, he shrugged. “I don’t know...like I said, there’s not much
to say about them. They’re...kind of
boring, actually. I love them and all,
and they’re good people, but...you know.
They can be a bit stiff...a bit cold.”
She frowned. “Compared to what?”
He glanced up and
met her eyes momentarily before returning his attention to his work. “Well, yours, for a start.”
She felt only a
small pang of sadness, and she knew it was tempered by the tone of his
voice. He wasn’t trying to make her
sad...he was just talking. She responded
to it well, but blew out a huff of laughter and said a bit cynically, “Well,
that’s horrible, seeing as how I don’t have one anymore.”
He raised his eyes
to really look at her now, his gaze direct and sincere. “But you did...and from what you’ve told me,
they seemed a million times more tolerant and supportive than my parents.”
Shaking her head,
she replied earnestly, “Every family is different...it doesn’t mean one is
better or worse. My family...well, you
know all about me and my sister. There’s
certainly nothing supportive about that.”
“Yeah...but your
sister is different...”
“No, I’m different. That’s her point,” she objected,
half-jokingly.
Rolling his eyes,
he replied, “Well, different than what,
that’s the question. You’re normal, as
far as I’m concerned.”
She couldn’t help smiling
a little at this, but she really wanted to change the subject. She didn’t want to grow melancholy just now,
but she’d gotten herself into it...she was the one who’d brought it up, so she
figured she should at least finish it.
Looking up at James as he pulled an irritated face at a mess in the
cupboard, she declared mildly, “Everyone has their flaws. Dad, for instance – my dad - he could be an absolute bear. Petunia’s lads - the ones she occassionally
brought home for dinner - used to be scared to death of him.”
“Really?” James
asked, his eyes suddenly going alight with interest as he got tired of manual
labour and enchanted the tangle of training gear to untangle itself.
Lily nodded, “He was always shouting. I don’t know...he’d shout even if he didn’t
mean to do it. He was just a loud
man...but not really bombastic, you know.
Anyway, he was always looking around with this glint in his eye, like he
was up to something. Always a plan
brewing in his head, some way he was going to get some scheme past my Mum. Not that it worked, usually.”
James smiled,
watching her. “He sounds great.”
She tried not to
get too misty as she replied, “He was.”
Still watching her
closely as though trying to gauge if he was about to step over some kind of invisible
comfort line, he admitted softly, “I’d like to have met him.”
Touched, she
observed, “You remind me of him.”
This seemed to
catch him off guard...his face changed, and he blinked at her. “I
do?”
She nodded, “Quite
a bit, actually.”
To this, he didn’t
seem to have any response. He simply sat
there, staring at her. She finally broke
eye contact when the moment became heavy with a tension that she hadn’t
anticipated…she hadn’t really thought about it when she’d said it, but it was
the truth. Looking back up, she found
his eyes very soft, and still gazing enigmatically at her. Shrugging a bit shyly, she attempted humor in
her inexplicable need to break the moment.
“Now it’s your
turn...you can tell me how much I remind you
of your mother.”
His face broke
into a huge grin at this, and he finally looked down at the floor and rubbed
the back of his neck as he replied, “I don’t think I will, thanks. It’d be a lie, anyway...you’re absolutely
nothing like my Mum.”
‘No?”
“No...in fact,
you’re not like anybody.”
She furrowed her
brows and repeated, “I’m not like anybody?”
He shook his head,
looking back up at her with undisguised affection in his expression as he
replied, “Nope...you’re the first one of you I’ve met.”
She blushed hard,
but hoped he couldn’t see it in the relatively dim light of the shed. Leave it to James Potter to consistently
think of something better. Better
answer, better idea...better compliment.
She stood and walked around to the other side of the room, looking at
the various pieces of Quidditch gear that were piled everywhere. He continued working, but she felt his eyes
on her.
“James?”
“Hmm?”
She hesitated
before she asked her question, because she knew she might be out of line...but
she had to know, or the curiosity would kill her. “Sirius’ family...you said they were...”
“Bloody bastards?”
he finished, and she looked over her shoulder to find his jaw set and his
expression suddenly dark. She blew out a
nervous breath.
“Well...yes. I just...I mean, I don’t want to say anything
bad, but...”
“Lily, just ask.”
It wasn’t said
angrily, just slightly impatiently. She
screwed up her courage and asked, “Do you think they’re involved? With...with everything they keep writing
about in the Prophet?”
James paused
before answering her question, and she prayed that he wasn’t offended. When he finally did reply, though, his
response was flat and without indignance, “I’m sure they are.”
She turned to face
him, her courage bolstered. “Has he said
they are?”
He shook his head,
standing and walking towards her.
“No...he wouldn’t know. He
doesn’t talk to them.”
She looked at him
for a long moment before concluding softly, “I can see why he’s your friend.”
James looked as
though he wasn’t sure if she was complimenting him or Sirius, but the truth was
that she had meant it as a compliment to both of them...and she was tired of
this serious talk. Smiling and walking
over to him, she asked, “Alright...what can I do?”
He looked up at
her and said, “Nothing...you’re keeping me company.”
“Look, I might as
well contribute so it’ll go faster.
Plus, I know you can’t do anything right without my help, so...”
He pulled a face,
smiling disbelievingly, and looked up at her again. “What were you saying earlier? Something about my being a genius?”
Laughing, she
retorted, “I didn’t say that...you
did, true to form. Now come on...give me
a job.”
“Other than to
shut up?” he asked incorrigibly. She
raised her brows, and he held up his hands and said, “Alright,
alright...whatever you say.”
It felt good to
finally have him give in to her, and she said a quick thank you to her parents
for teaching her to never be afraid of perseverence.
~~
The following
Sunday, when they’d finally gotten through the week, they didn’t even have much
of a chance to relax...it was the day they’d agreed upon to finish the potion
they were making for Dumbledore’s class, and they’d started early at Lily’s
insistance. Progress was slow, as they
had to be very careful with adding the ingredients in exactly the right
measurements…and these measurements were odd and hard to perfect.
She reached across
the table and picked up the vial with the blue liquid in it, and then
frowned. Sirius apparently noticed
because he responded with a gruff, “What?
What now?”
“Nothing,” she
replied, shaking her head, “I just want to make sure we do this the right
way. Hang on, let me just...read this
over one more time before we do anything...”
The two boys sat
back and watched her as she poured over her recipe page, her brows furrowed in
concentration. She prayed that she
didn’t do anything wrong...she knew that she had been the one to take charge of
the book, and if anything went awry it would be her fault. Just as she was starting to feel confident
that the blue vial was supposed to come next, she jumped at the sudden sound of
the door being pushed open and banging against the stone wall. Looking up, she beheld James striding over to
the table.
“Right,” he said,
smirking, “Still not finished, then?”
They all rolled
their eyes.
“What does it look
like? Get away, will you?” Sirius said
grumpily, but didn’t protest further when James pulled up a chair and sat down,
commenting,
“We finished ours
a week ago, you know.”
“Yeah, you’ve said
that,” Sirius muttered, “Now piss off, will you? We’re working, here.”
Tim, with only a
twinge of annoyance in his voice, eyed his two partners and said mockingly,
“Maybe he’s brought us tea.”
James quirked a
brow and retorted, “Yeah, and yours is poisoned, Connelly.”
“Well, at least
then you’d be useful,” Tim muttered, causing James to raise an eyebrow at him.
James blew out a
huff of what sounded like laughter, but Lily was too busy trying to read her
own handwriting to care.
“What are you
doing over there, Connelly?” James suddenly asked mildly, his brow furrowed as
he leaned over to see what Tim was working on.
Tim looked up from his notes and replied,
“I’m taking down
what we’ve done so far. Keeping track,
so that we don’t ruin the thing by doing something twice.”
James nodded, his
eyebrows raised. “Ah...right. Good thinking.”
Lily looked up
from her manual and eyed Tim. “Well, it
doesn’t work if he’s not paying attention, does it?”
Tim glanced up at
her. “What?”
“Did you get that
down? That I just added the lavendar
root?”
Tim shook his head
and nudged her hip with his elbow.
“Right. Sorry ‘bout that.”
She laughed and
shrugged, then went back to frowning down at the manual. After a moment, James spoke again, but she
only listened with half an ear as she scanned the ingredients they had left.
“You do a lot of
writing, don’t you?”
“Hmm?” Tim
responded, and James clarified,
“I mean, didn’t I
hear you say once that you were interested in persuing journalism or something
when you got out of here?”
“Oh, yeah...yeah,
I think that’s probably where I’ll end up.”
“So, do you do a
lot of writing in your spare time?”
“What’s the
matter, Evans?” Sirius addressed her, talking over the conversation between
James and Tim.
Shaking her head,
she answered, “I don’t think we have everything we need. Does it matter if we go out of order?”
“Do you keep a
journal, then?” James was saying, and Sirius answered her,
“I don’t
know...some potions it does, some it doesn’t.
I think this one is pretty complicated...maybe we shouldn’t take chances
in going out of order. It would be weeks
worth of work down the drain.”
“Right,” she
agreed, “Let me just make sure, then...I’ll do a quick inventory.”
“I don’t know,”
Tim said, shrugging at James, “A lot of things.”
“D’you write as
though you’re doing articles, like about what’s happening with the Ministry and
such all, or...more personal stuff?”
“Both, I guess...I
don’t know, whatever strikes me.”
Lily sighed and
said, “Will you two shush? I’m trying to
think...”
“Sorry, Lily,” Tim
apologized, but James continued in a lowered tone of voice,
“Have you been
keeping journals for awhile?”
“Awhile, yeah,”
Tim replied, glancing at Lily.
There was a brief
pause before James asked, “Could you look back through them and read about
important moments in your life? That
would be cool, I think. I mean, did you
write about stuff like...I dunno, the first night you spent at Hogwarts or your
OWLS results?”
Tim furrowed his
eyebrows and cast James a puzzled look, then replied laughingly, “Yeah, I
suppose...bloody hell, Potter, I don’t know.
I don’t remember.”
Lily glanced up to
ask Sirius a question, but found him eyeing James suspiciously. She’d just followed his gaze to James’
strangely impassive face when suddenly James asked Tim, “Did you write about the first time you had
it off with a girl?”
It was as though
someone had just cursed the entire group...Sirius and Lily stood staring in
different levels of shock at James, Lily not believing she’d heard
correctly. However, she couldn’t hold
onto that for long as Tim said in a dangerous voice,
“Sorry?”
James regarded Tim
coldly, the corner of his mouth starting to turn up in a self-satisfied smile
as he replied, “Ah...right, sorry.
Didn’t mean to imply that you’d gotten there yet.”
The silence
thickened to unbearable proportions as Tim slowly leaned forward, and before he
could respond, James dealt the final blow in his unexpected verbal assault.
“Or...that you
were even interested. Maybe you prefer
blokes.”
Tim was on his
feet in an instant, and James and Sirius both stood at the same time. Lily remained seated, looking in disbelief
from James to Tim and back again...they were staring daggers at each
other. Tim looked livid, and James
looked...Lily was dumbstruck at the look on his face. Brash, smug, and self-satisfied...but also
furious. As if he had something to be furious about.
Finally, she looked at Sirius, hoping he would do something to stop
this, but her hopes were dashed when at last he did speak. Moving a bit
closer to James, he said to Tim,
“Drop it,
Connelly. You won’t win this one.”
His meaning was
clear...he would stand with James. Lily
was sickened.
After a heavy
pause, Tim shook his head, his face a mask of anger and disgust. Picking up his notes, he threw them at Sirius
and spat, “Deal with it yourself.”
He didn’t even look
at Lily before grabbing his bag, turning on his heel, and walking out of the
room. James and Sirius relaxed a bit
after he was gone, apparently not feeling they had to be tensed for a fight any
longer...but Lily slowly stood, one hand gripping her own notes and the other
balled into a fist at her side. Sirius
shook his head and took his seat, muttering,
“Bloody hell,
mate.”
James stared for a
moment at the door through which Tim had left, and then glanced at Sirius. Lily felt her lip curling as she looked from
one to the other...she was absolutely taken aback, and she couldn’t even stand
to be in the same room with them.
Throwing her own notes on the table in front of Sirius, which caused him
to look up at her, she said vehemently, “You can have mine, too.”
Casting one look
at James only to find him looking back at her unapologetically, she grabbed her
books and stormed out of the room.
Running up the stairs, she found Tim turning a corner, heading back to
the Ravenclaw common room.
“Tim!”
He ignored her.
“Tim, wait!” she
called again, feeling so awful that she knew if she didn’t speak to him she’d
die, “I’m so, so sorry about what happened back there...”
He rounded on her
suddenly, surprising her. “Why the hell
are you apologizing? As I recall, you
didn’t say bugger all.”
Cringing at his
language, she said, “I know...that’s why I’m sorry. I should have interrupted, I should have...”
“Look,” he said,
interrupting her, “You used to stand up to James Potter, and I admired you for
that. If you don’t have the energy – or
the desire – to do that anymore, it’s no skin off my nose. I get it, alright? You and he are close, it’s not a big
deal...but from now on, keep him away from our group sessions. We need to get that bloody thing done, and we
don’t need interference.”
With that, he
turned and strode away from her, leaving her gaping after him and feeling as
though she was two inches tall.
~~
She didn’t see him
again until dinner. She didn’t expect
to, considering the fact that it was nearly ten o’clock by the time she got
down there...she just assumed he’d already been and gone. She was sitting in the Great Hall by herself,
calmly eating her soup as she read a “Contemporary Charmwork” issue that she’d
borrowed from Professor Flitwick, when suddenly he was sitting across from
her. She glanced up and found him
staring at her.
“What?” she asked
coolly, turning her eyes back to her reading.
“What?” he
repeated, then asked, “Where have you been?”
Lifting her
shoulders unconcernedly, she replied, “Busy.”
Rather than
respond, he apparently decided that he’d had enough and grabbed the publication
right out from under her nose so abruptly that she nearly dropped her
spoon. Glaring furiously up at him, she
opened her mouth to tell him off but couldn’t get the words out before he said,
“I want to talk.”
“Oh, yeah?” she
retorted, slamming her spoon down on the table and bracing herself for whatever
was about to happen, “Well, sorry...I’m not interested. Now give me back my...”
“This is how it’s
going to be, then?” he asked angrily, “I can spend months, years, or decades
acting like a bloody saint around you, and one show of backbone - one telling
off of some self-important git - will
leave you convinced that I’m rubbish?”
She frowned,
shaking her head, “A saint? Who asked
you to be saintly?”
“Come off it,” he
growled, spitefully tossing her periodical a fair distance down the Gryffindor
table, “Your expectations are close to impossible to achieve, you...”
“My expectations?”
she interrupted, completely unable to understand what he was trying to say but
now even more angry that he’d disposed of her reading material so
unceremoniously, “Look, I don’t know what in the world you mean. As far as I can tell, you’re talking about a
problem you’ve invented for yourself, not something that was started by
anything I’ve ever said to you. Furthermore, you’re making this much more
complicated than it really is.”
“Am I?” he
sneered, and she replied,
“Yes. If this is the kind of conversation you
wanted to have with me, one where we dance around the issue and turn things
around so that somehow everything that happens is my fault, then I’m standing
up and walking out of here. If you want
to stick to the issue, then by all
means, let’s talk.”
He was silent for a
moment, glaring at her, and she stared determinedly back at him. When it looked as though he was wordlessly
agreeing to her terms, she asked quietly,
“Why did you do
it, James?”
He snorted, then
broke eye contact and directed his gaze at the professor’s table where
thankfully only one person was sitting, engrossed in a book. He was shaking his head as though rejecting
her words, and so she went on, “If he’d said something horrible, at least that
would have been a reason for dragging
him through the mud like that...but he didn’t.”
He looked back at
her and stated firmly, “He has some kind of problem
with me...he has for a long time now. It
was obvious the minute I walked into the room.”
“As I recall, none
of us cheered when you walked in. We
were giving ourselves headaches, we were concentrating so hard on getting that
potion right. And anyway, that isn’t the
point...the point is, you did it on purpose.”
“What?”
“Look,” she began,
rubbing her temple, “I’ve been thinking about it all afternoon. Don’t you think that I would love to provide
you with some kind of excuse in my head?
Don’t you think I’d be relieved if I could think of just one reason Tim deserved the verbal
lashing and public humiliation you gave him today? I would...but I can’t. Not only was it completely unprovoked, but as
I thought back on it...James, you
provoked him.”
“Excuse me?”
“Yes...you drew
him into a seemingly innocent conversation, and then you used his own words to
tear him apart. It was deliberate, and
it was a horrible thing to do. I
just...I can’t reconcile the person I saw in you today with the person I
thought was...”
She hesitated, and
he prodded, “Was what?”
She looked him in
the eye as she finished, “Getting to be a very close friend of mine.”
He didn’t react
violently, but she could see it in his eyes...that stung him. He was hurt, and as usual that hurt
manifested itself outwardly as anger.
His eyes narrowed, he leaned over the table and hissed, “I don’t know
where you got your definition of friendship, but from what I’ve learned all my
life it’s a matter of loyalty. You don’t
write off your friends when they do things you don’t approve of...you accept their flaws, because it’s worth
it. If you can’t do that – if you can’t
handle the aspects of my personality that you don’t understand or can’t find
somewhere within yourself – then maybe it’s you
that’s rubbish.”
Touché, she
thought wryly as the sting from his harsh evaluation pierced her. Sighing, she decided it wasn’t worth it to
continue hurting each other...it wouldn’t solve anything, and who knows what
kind of damage would be done when they finished. Leaning forward so that she could lower her
voice to a near whisper as a couple more stragglers wandered in for a late meal,
she replied, “I think you know how much I appreciate and care about you, and I
can’t imagine that you would need me to remind you.”
This seemed to
catch him off guard...she could literally see his eyes soften as his eyes
roamed her face. She went on, “Being a
good friend also doesn’t mean blindly approving of everything your friend does
if you think it’s wrong...and I think what you did to Tim Connelly today was
wrong.”
He opened his
mouth to speak, then closed it again.
Finally, blowing out a breath, he said in a subdued voice, “I know you
probably don’t see it, Lily...the entire lead up to what happened was so subtle
even Sirius didn’t catch on right away.
The minute I walked into the room, Connelly made it clear he didn’t want
me in there.”
“James...”
“It had nothing to
do with the work he wanted to get done.
He’s had a problem with me for years...we just don’t interact, so it
doesn’t get noticed.”
“James, if it was
so subtle, you could have just ignored it.”
“No,” he insisted,
running his hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I suppose I could have...but
I wouldn’t.”
She contemplated
this for a moment, and he elaborated, “He was trying to belittle me in front
of...other people. You may not approve,
but I stand by what I did...I couldn’t just sit there and take it.”
She considered it
proud and arrogant, and still thought what he did was ultimately cruel...but
how could she argue with this? For all
she knew, she was overreacting...she didn’t know much about it, to be honest. Shrugging, she replied honestly, “Fair
enough...but I still can’t accept it.”
He nodded and said
unenthusiastically, “Fair enough.”
They sat in
silence for a moment, regarding each other, and then he turned his head and
caught sight of something. Sighing, he
stood and walked over to where he had chucked her copy of “Contemporary
Charmwork”. Picking it up off the table
and shaking the creases out, he came back and handed it to her without
apology. She took it without thanks.
He looked at his
watch and frowned. “I have to go...I’m
late.”
“For what?”
“I have to meet with
the other three...bloody hell, I’m late.”
She stood and
gathered her things. “Well, that’s
alright...I was going to go and read the rest of this in bed. I’m tired...we started early this morning.”
He nodded, then
led the way out of the Great Hall. At
the door, they stood looking at each other for a moment, neither one feeling
totally at ease with the resolution – or lack thereof – of their argument. However, this was just one of those things
that was going to have to fade with a little time.
“See you later,”
he said, turning and taking off down the corridor.
“See you,” she
called after him, and then turned in the opposite direction and headed back to
Just as she yawned and thought that perhaps she should call it a night, she heard the dormitory door open with a click and a faint squeak. Her blood froze as she closed her book and leaned forward, every muscle getting ready to spring from the bed as she listened to the rapidly approaching footsteps. Before she could call out to Helen or react in any way whatsoever, her bedcurtains were shoved aside and she was faced with an extremely agitated James Potter. It took her a mere two milliseconds to realize that something was very, very wrong with him.
“What’s happened?”
she demanded.