Chapter Three: Best Friends and Victims
"Jamie?" a voice called at the door, "Honey, are you awake?"
James, who had been lying on his bed and staring listlessly at the ceiling, looked to the door of his room to see his mother. Her long hair was out of its usual twist and she herself was in a simple white nightgown. He didn't reply, but she saw he was awake.
"How are you, dear?" she asked gently. She came to sit on the edge of his bed, and smoothed the hair from his forehead.
"Fine." he said stiffly. He was in one of the moods that often came upon him, late at night. Sirius, who knew all about them, had gone to sleep in the guest bedroom across the hall to avoid him, and that had suited James just fine.
"You look so much like your father." his mother said, smiling, "You get more and more handsome every day."
"Hm."
"I heard that you made Head Boy. And Quidditch captain! I'm so proud of you, darling."
"Who'd you hear that from? Agnes?" He hadn't mentioned the letters to anyone, and wondered how she'd known.
"No-o." She said hesitatingly. Her smile faded and she looked away, beginning to toy with the bedspread. "I fired her."
"Again, Mum?"
"I know you hate how I go through maids. Your father hates it too. But I can't depend on her, that party at the McKinnon's was ever so important, and I was forced to prepare myself."
"So, where did you hear how I was made Head Boy?"
"Sirius told me."
"Ah." James said, looking away from her and diverting his gaze towards the ceiling again.
"You should have told me, James. I would have--"
"Thrown a party? Yeah, I know. Did you ever think that I didn't particularly care to draw attention to it?"
"Why ever not? You're the third generation of Potters to make Head Boy, which is a miracle, considering the men in this family's capacity for troublemaking."
"I didn't want it. Didn't Sirius tell you that, too?"
"I could tell that Sirius wasn't pleased, but I thought that he was a bit jealous, to be honest."
James laughed, his voice coming out slightly louder than he'd intended.
"Sirius? Jealous?" he cried incredulously, "Jesus, Mum, he isn't jealous! He realizes that all these things, the-these positions of authority, they aren't as great as you and Dad think they are! And he's right!"
His mother stood up quickly and touched a hand to her cheek, as though she'd been slapped. For a moment, she looked hurt. Then, with what looked like a large amount of effort and discipline, she arranged her face into a frown.
"Don't talk to me like that, James." she said seriously, "It's time that you learn to grow up."
"Grow up!" he thundered, jumping up as well, "Grow up! What exactly would you consider growing up? Going to parties, marrying the first pretty pureblood I lay eyes on? Or maybe you'd like it if I had an affair with a married woman, like Dad did. Is that growing up? Is that what would make you happy? Well? Is it?"
Her face and grown white, and she had begun to tremble.
"Don't you say those things to me, James Edward Potter. I won't abide it."
"Fine." James replied, backing down and feeling the sleep that had been avoiding him come down suddenly like a wave. He turned away and laid back down on the bed, staring at the opposite wall from the one that held the door.
"Good night, James." his mother said weakly. He could tell she was silently asking him to turn around, but he remained rigid.
"I'll tell your father you said goodnight." she sighed, after realizing he wouldn't budge. "He says goodnight and that he's proud as well, of course."
"Why can't he tell me that himself?" James asked a minute later. Hearing no reply, he craned his neck to see her reaction, and found that she'd already fled. He shrugged, and quickly fell asleep.
***
When Lily came the next day, James had already smoked about half a pack of cigarettes. When she slowed her bike down, she had an expression of extreme pain on her face.
"Please, put those away." she said, pointing to the half empty packet in his hand. "Please. They make me ill."
James looked at her, and found himself more than a little nervous to see that, not only did she look pained, but like she was about to throw up. Realizing that he was in the line of fire, he quickly stowed them in his pocket. Lily sighed in relief.
"Thank you." she said, sliding down to sit next to him.
For a moment or so they sat, saying nothing. James avoided looking at her, though he felt her gaze on him, expectant. He hadn't thought inviting her over this far through, and realized what a dumb idea it was. His mind raced. He tried to think what it was he should propose they do, but really could only think of a voice in his head that sounded extraordinarily like Sirius telling him that snogging, along with the occasional shag, was all that boys and girls really did together.
"Did you want to go inside?" Lily asked finally.
"Sure." James said, slightly relieved. It was a simple idea, but he hadn't thought of it at all.
"This house really is lovely." Lily commented as he ushered her in, "So bright."
"It's ok."
He lead her through various sweeping halls into a rather large, yet stiff, parlor room, filled with expensive and fragile objects. James wove his way through them expertly to sit on an overstuffed chair, while Lily examined the things on display.
"Don't touch anything." he commented, not really caring. "Though I doubt my parents would notice, or care for that matter, it would be an awful shame to lose some of them. They're ancient." James said all this with a slightly sarcastic tone, and he was surprised when Lily caught it.
"I sense your overwhelming reverence." she teased, "I know the rules of a parlor, anyway."
"Do you really?"
"My grandmother had a parlor like this when she was alive. They're a bit old though, parlors, aren't they?"
"Not really. Why would you say that?"
"Well, maybe not for wizards, but for muggles…"
"You're not a muggle."
Lily gave him a look, and James felt another pang of stupidity.
"But then, you're muggleborn, aren't you?"
"And proud." she added.
"Well done you." he said dryly. Then he thought of something.
"How are you friends with Sniv-- Snape, then? His family hates muggleborns."
"It's a bit of a long story." Lily sighed dramatically. "It's a matter of need, really. It started in first year. He needed a friend, and I needed help with my Defense Against the Dark Arts homework."
"Why would you ask Snape for help? You could've asked anybody--hell, you could've asked me!"
Lily laughed, inspecting a solid gold coo-coo clock as she did so.
"Come off it, you only figured out who I was a few days ago." she said, "Besides, Severus knows all about the subject. We have Defense with the Slytherins. Haven't you seen how passionate he is? It gives me chills. He's a brilliant teacher."
James was disgusted by Lily's gushing.
"Of course he'd know all about it." he said darkly, "His whole family is a load of dark witches and wizards. There hasn't been one who wasn't in Slytherin for centuries."
"Oh, poo. What does that matter?"
"A hell of a lot, actually. And I still don't get how you two are best friends."
"You say the h-word a lot. It's rather unbecoming. And to answer your intended question, I'm not really his best friend. He's just mine."
Lily saw his blank look and made an impatient noise.
"He has other friends in Slytherin, and a lot outside of school. His best friend is actually a boy called Igor, who lives in a different country. But Severus is my best friend, because he was the first one I had at Hogwarts--the only one, for a while. That makes him `best', at least I think so."
"Your logic is the strangest I've ever heard."
"What's this?" she asked, completely changing the subject.
He leaned over to see what she was looking at. Expecting one of the gilded, jewel encrusted, or otherwise expensive looking items, he was surprised to see she was pointing to an old leather ball. It was made of several ancient looking patches of leather, crudely sewn together, and attached to it was a loop of leather. At the sight of it, James got out of his seat and smiled at it fondly.
"It's an ancient quaffle." he said, "Before there were gripping charms, that's what they used. I forgot we had it." His forehead creased in bewilderment. "Why this one?"
"What?"
"Why did you ask about this one? I mean, you know, instead of the-the gold, and stuff." Lily nodded, as though approving of his question.
"It didn't fit. The rest looked so polished, and this looks so-- excuse my saying so, because I can tell you care about it a lot-old and beat up."
"My mum wanted to get rid of it." James said, picking it up and stroking it kindly, "But Dad and I are a bit wild over Quidditch, Sirius as well, so she doesn't get rid of it for fear we'll attack her."
"Sirius?"
"Sirius Black--you do know him, don't you?"
Lily waved a hand at him, as though dismissing him.
"Of course I know who he is. What does he have to do with whether or not you keep a quaffle?"
"He's practically lived here since we became friends. Now he actually does live here. Mum bloody adores him. Dad thinks he's alright too."
"Oh, is he here?" Lily asked brightly, "Where is he? Maybe we should go see him…"
"No!" James cried, in spite of himself. Sirius had been sincere when he'd devoted himself to getting Lily, and was in fact upstairs, plotting her demise. Though it was slightly amusing, he was also concerned about Lily's safety. Sirius could get out of control unintentionally, and James was genuinely interested in learning more about her. He wasn't going to let his best friend screw things up.
"Why?"
"Because--he's--" James thought quickly, "he's sick."
"Oh." Lily said, frowning in disbelief, "I thought that there were plenty of good potions that could fix it. Just give him some pepper-up potion, I think it should clear most symptoms up."
"Well--er--I would, you see--except that he's--allergic."
Lily continued to give him the disbelieving look, but after a minute it evaporated.
"Ooooohhhh." she said, coming to a sudden realization, "I get it. There's something that you're not telling me about him. Something that I probably don't want to know anyway?" She smiled comfortingly. "It's quite alright. I understand." She came to stand next to James, who had looked away and started playing with the ancient quaffle.
"It's probably time I leave." she said after a minute, "I think we've fulfilled today's quota of awkward pauses." she laughed uneasily at herself, then stopped.
"Right." she said, "There was another one. If you wouldn't mind showing me out, I have no idea how to get back…"
"What? Oh, sure." James said, putting the quaffle back on the pedestal it had been sitting on. He showed her the way out, and after she had one leg over her bicycle, he said,
"I'm really sorry about all this. I don't even know why I invited you."
"I'll take that as an insult to yourself, not me." Lily said lightly. Seeing James's expression as he realized how what he'd said had sounded, she continued to speak.
"Anyways, I quite enjoyed myself, in spite of what you might think of the whole affair. Perhaps I'll come round again soon?"
"How about a week before we go to Diagon Alley for our school stuff?"
"Oh, yes, that's a good idea. I need to go to for some extra things, what with…" she trailed off, lost in thought.
"Lily?"
"Oh, yes." she said, coming out of a reverie. "Well, I'll see you then, James." she climbed the rest of the way onto her bicycle and rode off. As her figure faded, he turned to go back inside.
"Well," a voice from behind him said as soon as he closed the door, "she seems nice."
He turned around, and saw his mother, watching the whole situation amusedly. She had her hair arranged in a precariously high style, and it was evident from her bottle green robes and thick makeup that she was going to another party. He shook his head at her.
"No. I'm not answering any questions about her. That's final, Mum."
"Oh, la, Jamie. I didn't talk to her, did I?"
"…no." James didn't bother to mentioned that, in some strange way, this alarmed him even more than if she had.
"I don't think I've ever seen her before. Out of curiosity, which family is she from?" she asked, trying to make light of a question he knew she was dying to know the answer to.
"None."
"Don't be ridiculous, she must have a family."
"Not one that matters to you." He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. For a second, he stared at it, then put it back. He then resumed conversation as though nothing had happened.
"She's muggleborn, Mum."
"Oh." She said, looking surprised. "Well, it takes all sorts to make up a world, I suppose." She smiled in an almost uncomfortable way, then turned to leave.
James wondered, somewhat sickened, when his mother had ever become such a victim to society.
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