Chapter 7- You Think You Know Me
Lily sat at her desk, pouring over her first week's homework. She was up to her fiery red roots in it. She had no idea how James handled himself so well; he had more to do than she did! So far, there had been no unpleasant encounters between the two of them. They had polite conversations, not personal conversations, not friendly conversations, but uncomfortable, awkward, polite conversations. Lily wanted to keep it that way.
She heard the Portrait Hole open and James came in with his Quidditch robes on, soaking wet. It must have started to rain and he hadn't stopped practice. Stupid git, she thought.
He collapsed in one of the arm chairs before the fire and sighed.
"What are you working on?" he asked her, as she went back to her Transfiguration essay. She had been having a lot of trouble on it, seeing as it was her worst subject.
Professor McGonagall had assigned a difficult essay to her and a few other students who had been having trouble, and Lily just could not get it. It involved transfiguring solid objects into liquid. Who really needs to do that?
"This stupid Transfiguration essay," she said angrily. She was getting frustrated. Transfiguration just wasn't her thing, it never had been and it never would be.
She chucked her quill at the parchment and just sat back in her chair.
"Let me see, maybe I could help you," he said generously.
"I don't need your help!" Lily said.
"Ok, but I understood it pretty well today. I just thought I could give you a few suggestions," James said, standing up and making his way towards her desk.
"I don't think so," she said, cutting him off.
"Are you stuck on Switching Spells?" James asked, seeing her essay.
"Switching Spells? We did that in fifth year," Lily said. "I'm stuck on switching solid objects to liquid."
"Yes, switching spells. You said so yourself, you want to switch the solid object to liquid. It's just a simple switching spell," James said.
"Oh," she said quietly. Of course it had been obvious the whole time. Why hadn't she seen that?
"Thanks," she said so quiet he barely heard her. Her luck, he did hear her.
"Wow, never thought I'd see the day when I'd have to help Lily Evans," he said.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Lily asked, standing up from her chair.
"I mean you're always so collected and together that it seems like you don't need anyone's help," James said.
"I am not! You're the one who always blows off your homework!" Lily said.
"Yes, which isn't exactly the most exemplary thing to be proud of," James said. "You're always so perfect though. You never have bad days, you never forget your homework, you never have less than adequate boyfriends. I could go on for days."
"Is that how you think I am?" Lily asked. "You're wrong."
"Really? I highly doubt that," James said smugly. She walked to him, face to face, although he towered above her.
"I do indeed have bad days, as you must know, as you are the cause of most of them. I have awful hair days. My clothes never fit the way I want them to. Sometimes I cry for no reason. I am not very good at Transfiguration. I have been dumped by my last two boyfriends for not spending enough time with them. And lastly, I have you to deal with," she said angrily.
"Lily, you really are daft. Maybe you do have something wrong with you," James said.
"What do you mean? I am not daft. I happen to be the smartest girl in our class," she said.
"And the most modest," he muttered. "You know what your problem is?"
"What?" she asked, raising her voice.
"You are so ignorant of what's right in front of you," James said. His hazel eyes were becoming angry. The annual fight between Lily Evans and James Potter was ready to be re-enacted.
"I am not. I know what's in front of me. An arrogant prick," Lily said.
"No, a guy who cares for you. A guy who would never break your heart. A guy who would risk his life for you. But obviously that's not up to par for Lily Evans, is it? I have been nice to you this whole week. All I've ever tried to do was live up to your impossible standards. I guess that's not good enough for Lily Evans," James said.
They were still yelling in each other's faces.
"Potter, you say you care for me so much. You know absolutely nothing about me," Lily said, feeling the heat of their argument.
"I know nothing about you Lily?" James asked, chuckling with anger.
"I happen to know more about you than most people care to learn. I know that you're incredibly smart, you're Muggleborn, you have these penetrating green eyes that flash when you're upset, like right now for instance, I know that you're fighting us being together, I know that you hate when we fight yet you've never felt more passion, and lastly Lily Evans, I know that you don't take risks," he said.
"Passion? We have passion? I am the daft one? Please, passion is the least of my feelings," Lily said, clenching her fists.
"I said, are you really that daft? Passion is an intense feeling, good or bad and I know we have it. We fight until our last breath. I have never felt as much heat as when I fight with you Lily Evans," James said.
She paused. He was right. She had never fought with anyone as she had fought with him. Never.
"You know what I hate about you? You're so self-centered. What makes you think I feel heat when we fight? And about me not taking risks? We're not what I'd call friends, how could you possibly know that?" Lily asked.
"I know that because you won't risk going out with me. Seriously Evans, would you die on one date? I highly doubt a meteor will crash in Hogsmeade while we're on a date. I know you're afraid to let me into your life. That is what makes you afraid of risk," James said. She stepped away from him, feeling tears sting her eyes. She would not let him know he was right.
"I am going to sleep. Good night Potter," Lily said quietly. She headed into her bedroom and closed the door.
"Dammit, Lily, I didn't mean to make you cry," James said. He walked over to her door and tried to make her come out.
"I'm sorry I said those things. Can't we just go back to being friends?" he asked.
"We were NEVER friends, Potter," Lily screamed through the door.
He tried to grasp the door handle but felt it burn his hand.
She was right. They never were friends. He had no reason to try anymore. He was officially going to give up on Lily
Evans, even if it killed him. He backed away sadly and left the portrait hole, still in his sopping Quidditch
robes.
A/N: Well, a memorable fight scene occurred. I think now might just be the time to review.