How Did You Feel?

This is set around the end of Lily and James' sixth year. Enjoy.
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“Hey, um, Evans, can I ask for your help”

I knew who it was before I even turned around. It was Potter. But his voice sounded different, so out of place. He was nervous. I couldn't refuse to help someone, even bullying toe-rags, especially when they seemed nervous and desperate. I spun on my heel to face him and raised an eyebrow (A hard feat to pull off, which quite proudly, not many other people can do)

“Sure, ask away” I said, hoping my voice didn't sound to falsely cheery. Just because I'm considering helping him doesn't mean that I enjoy it. And being in such close proximity to the cocky git might just be contagious; my head might start to grow fat and I could be ruffling my hair. How Potter was in love with his hair…

He began speaking again, but his words were too quick and drawn together. I barley understood that he was speaking English.

“You-see-I-have-this-pretty-big-assignment-for-muggle-studies. We-have-to-interview-a-bunch-of-muggleborns-and-ask-stuff-like-what-it-was-like-for-people-exhibiting-magical-
tendancies-to-grow-up-believing-you-muggles-and-what-muggle-kitchen-appliance-you-miss-the-most-and…”

Okay, that was weird. Where had Oh-So-Suave Mr. Potter gone? Maybe he just really didn't like me and wanted to spend as least time with me as he possibly could, which is why he was talking fast. He must've wanted to get that assignment thing over pretty quickly..

It took me more than a moment to comprehend what Potter was saying. He wore an awkward expression that I had never seen on him before and it really didn't look good. Oh shit, I've been staring at him. I hope against hope that he didn't notice. But he already had. My cheeks tinged with embarrassment and turned pink (Which probably clashed horribly with my hair… damn! I thought I was over that let down of being a red-head)

He started talking again, this time slowly and deliberately, “Well Evans, you don't have to spend any time with me. It's cool. But could I put your name on top of the interview? I can make it up easily. We just need the names of Muggleborn student's to show that we actually conducted the interviews.”

It finally dawned upon me what Potter was saying. He was in Muggle Studies, I wonder why? Not all too many people at Hogwarts are at all interested in Muggles (unless it's to poke fun at them) and much less take a class and actually learn about them. None of my close friends took the class. And they were probably all up in our dorm now, gossiping, laughing and having the time of their lives. Without me. Yeah, I was still in the library studying my ass off for a small test tomorrow in Ancient Runes. Well, Just about everyone in 6th year was studying like no tomorrow…even the Marauders (Potter and his friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew). In fact, they have been in the Library more this year than in their first five years at school (Although Sirius haughtily complained about this and said that he had quite a brilliant mind, that was going to suffer from hours of boredom. Prat.).

Maybe that's why I was so shocked between this little conversation occurring between Potter and I. It felt weird talking to him in the library of all places. I smiled though; “Mr. I'm So Brilliant” needed MY help in a subject I didn't even take. The urge to laugh was bubbling in my throat, but I quickly shoved it down and plastered an even brighter smile on my face.

“Of course I'll help you Potter. Do you want to sit up the back? It isn't as crowded there. I think we've only got half an hour before Pince closes the library…”

I don't know whether it was my words or my smile (Yeah, I just like helping people, even gits, it's just my nature. My friends complain to me about “playing the hero” though…) that calmed him down a bit. I swear I could so noticeably see him relax- his stiff shoulders slouched down a little more, the creases in his forehead were ironed out by a cocky grin, and he looked kind of… happy? Oh God, I'm staring again. At least he had some grace not to mention it. I was embarrassed and felt blood rush to my face. I turned away from him and began walking to a quiet little table up at the back of the Library, while urging for my face to turn back to it's normal pale colour.

Thankfully my face cooled down a bit by the time we reached that desk. I sat down lazily and so began the interview.

With a quill and parchment that he must have conjured out of thin air, or more likely transfigured, he began to jot down some notes. I HADN'T EVEN STARTED YET AND HERE HE WAS JOTTING DOWN NOTES! It was suspicious, what if this was some sort of elaborate, sick prank? So I began frantically craning my head (Yes, a very Petunia-like quality, but hey, we ARE sisters) to see some signs of his little Marauders, fireworks, buckets of frog spawn… so typical of James ruddy Potter, to lead me on and make me feel all safe and then WHAM! The biggest prank of all time on Lily Evans, the most accomplished sucker of all time.

“Where are your friends?” I spat, a touch too irritably.

He just looked at me incredulously, as if he didn't know what I was on about. He had some nerve. “In our dormitory, where more normal people are this late” And then he just had to go and reflexively shoot me a charming grin. Yes it was charming, although would never admit that to anyone. I'm a teenage girl with all sorts of intense hormones and Potter, despite being a cocky toe-rag, was quite easy on the eyes.

I was subdued by that little comment he made, but my suspicion hadn't entirely died. I cleared my throat prettily that meant fairly clearly “Well, lets get on with it then”.

“Mhm, okay, before you got your letter to Hogwarts and found out about the magical world, how did it feel being a muggle?”

He said that all in a monotone voice, as he was reading of the piece of parchment in front of him. He dipped his quill in some ink, and leaned forward on one elbow…as if he was actually interested in what I had to say. I scoffed at the thought. But still I had to reply truthfully; it was his assignment after all.

“I felt like I was a right little oddball, really. I was weird, strange things happened around me. I knew it and other people knew it too. People avoided me.”

It felt awkward to voice these thoughts that I'd held in for so long. I hadn't spoken to anyone at Hogwarts about this, or anyone for that matter.

Potter looked bewildered and stuttered out “But EVERYONE likes you, even some Slytherins. And that's saying a lot. You've got heaps of friends”

“Well, before I came to this school I didn't have any friends. Like I said, I was weird, and everybody knew it. But my family never mentioned it, and kids at school never did…but that was because they were scared of me. The lot of them just stayed the hell away from me. I think they could tell that there was something different about me.”

I felt so relieved and yet so bad saying all this, it was as though I was re-living all the taunts and bullying that happened to me before Hogwarts. I hate bullying, knowing it first-hand, which is why I always stick up for those who are being teased and hurt.

Potter looked thoughtful “do you mind if I use that? That last part… for future reference. Not personal use- just muggle studies.”

He answered the question in my eyes without me even having to speak it.

“Next Question, how did you feel when you and slash other persons close to you, for example family, feel when finding out you were a witch? Were they surprised, question mark, happy, question mark.” He continued in that monotone voice that showed he was reading the question directly off his parchment.

“Erm, well, I was ecstatic. My parents were proud of me and they were happy to `have a witch in the family' (I did my best impersonation of Mum's voice). My sister didn't like it. Yet then she would have hated it more if I stayed… and ruined her chances at popularity, ruined her life..”

I couldn't even finish my sentence; I was really sensitive about my relationship with my bitch of a sister. Only a handful of people knew I had a sister. I just liked to forget her at school. I just got so wound up when I was talking about her, and how she cared more about complete strangers than me. I had to blink back tears threatening to escape from my eyes. Not in front of Potter, I would not cry in front of him, I would not…

Something unexpected happened. A large warm hand was covering mine. And I opened my eyes, which I hadn't realized were closed. I barely had the time to take in his hand in his, a very romantic gesture, because he was boring into eyes with a piercing hazel gaze.

“A lot of people fear and shun great things that they just don't understand.” Then he added softly “you shouldn't worry about it”

He looked as though he had told the very same thing to people many times. I wondered whom?

I think it was then he realized the intimacy in the way he was holding my hands and looking at me. He drew back quickly, muttered a “sorry” that was uncalled for, and plunged right back into asking questions.

He must have found me so repulsive that he couldn't even look me in the face.

“Would you prefer being a witch slash wizard or a muggle? If you had more of a choice that is”

I scoffed aloud “That is the most stupid question I have ever heard! Of course being a witch is better than being an odd little muggle girl. It's like choosing between a
Treacle tart and a plain biscuit… but then again, with the threat of Lord Voldemort maybe it would be better to be left in the dark?”

Why was I thinking about food? And comparing treacle tart, the best food imaginable, to biscuits? That was possibly the stupidest thing I have ever said. And I say so many rash and stupid things.

But Potter just flashed me a grin and went on with his questions “What muggle kitchen appliance and slash or gadget that may use eckeltricity do you miss the most?”

I put my hand under my chin, as though I was deliberating the answer seriously.
“My favourite kitchen appliance would have to be an oven because it makes beeping noises. My favourite kitchen gadget is my Mum- the kitchen slave who uses the oven to cook me treacle tart.”

I wonder if he even knew I was taking the Mickey out of him. Judging by the look on his face (Brows furrowed and mouth twisted like he had just eaten 2 year old treacle tart) he didn't. I giggled, because the look on his face was absolutely priceless. He cracked a relied grin at my whacked sense of humour. But, muggle kitchen appliances? That's even stupider than the stuff I come out with.

“So you don't use your Mother as a house elf then? Because that would be bloody sick”

“No” I replied, yawning while rolling my eyes.

He clued into the yawn rather quickly and said, “You're tired. Let's get back to the common room”. It sounded more like an order than a question, but I was too tired to care.

I occurred to me that I hadn't had to yell at him about anything. We were actually getting along, the toe-rag and I. Inwardly; I was gaping like a goldfish. I guess I would have to wait until tomorrow, when he was a jerk again. Speaking of tomorrow, did Potter ask all of his questions?

“That's cool. But did you want to finish your questions Potter? You can charm my eyes open for a little, if you need this done by tomorrow.”

“Nah, I'll just have to steal you away some other time”

We stood up in unison, and I realised how dark it was in the library. The only light being shed was that coming out of Potter's wand (He must have used “lumos” when I wasn't watching)

We dashed madly for the door, hoping it hadn't been closed. It was worse than closed. Locked. Probably thanks to some pranksters gallivanting through the school at night.

“Oh fuck” I spat as I pounded my fists against the door.
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A/N This is pretty much a one-shot unless someone wants me to extend it. All types of reviews are welcome.

My inspiration for this story was from actually doing this sort of question thing in class, except the questions were different and we had to interview people of different nationalities… I learned so much of Sophie my newfound White/Caucasian friend, who taught me how much red-heads blush.

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Summary: Lily and James make their escape from the Library, and eventually get back to their dorms. But not without a little bit of fun along the way.

The second chapter was asked for, so here it is. I hope you like it as well as the first.
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What sort of Idiot would leave two wandless, innocent students locked up in the library?

In my frustration I tried a wordless charm, but the lock on the door didn't budge. I guess that they suspected that late night Pranksters would know the spell Alohamora (Used for the unlocking of doors), and so they put an even more protective spell on the door. I needed my wand! Why didn't I bring it with me? How could I have been so STUPID! More importantly how could Madam Pince have been so dim witted, as to lock us in here in the first place?

I drew my hand back one more time, fully intending it to smash into the cold oak of the door, and relieve some of my anger. But before a sound could be made Potter had a grip around my wrists, keeping me gently in place…but the grip was strong enough so that I couldn't budge. I was spun as to face him, and he was calm. Who is calm at a time like this? He must have known this would happen. Ass-wipe.

“Evans, we can find a way out of here without Filch coming to catch us, with all the racket you were about to make. Have you got your wand?”

I murmured a no to his question. Would I have attempted a wandless charm if I had my wand on me? He said that he had his. He released me, and attempted to unlock the door, using Alohamora and some other less known spells

“It isn't working,” He growled. I could have figured as much for myself. Then he cast Mufflatio spell, probably so Filch wouldn't hear us.

He then started doing the oddest thing, and I have seen many odd things…with me being a student at Hogwarts and all. He was patting down the pockets of his trousers reluctantly, and pulled out a mirror. How typical of Potter to keep a mirror with him at all times. Laughter rumbled forth from me, but I tried to make it as silent as I could. He was gazing into the mirror and muttering something. Lunatic.

He looked at me with a face of mock-anger, “Shut up, I'm trying to talk to Black ”.

So they talked to each other through mirrors did they? I bet it just escaped everybody's notice, because it was normal for them both to be gazing at their own visions, smiling. But Potter wasn't smiling. He didn't seem very happy at all. And since when does he call his shadow “Black”? Then again, when I thought about it, I hadn't seen Black and Potter living in each other's pockets for a few weeks now.

I stepped over to him and peered over his shoulder. Sure enough, there was Sirius' reflection in the mirror. Potter spoke slowly and roughly.

“Where are you?”

“Detention, mate, with Skeletor”

“Can you sneak out and open a window in the dorm. McGonagall shouldn't notice if you're only gone a minute”

“She's watching me, with her scary beady eyes, there's no way I can get out of this one”

“Can you get Wormtail or Moony?”

“They're asleep. And Moony can't even look at me, how can I talk to him?”

“Don't worry about it, I've got to go”

“Do I see a certain little red-head over your shoulder?”

I quickly ducked back down to behind Potters back, hiding behind him, out of the Sirius' view. But I needn't have worried. Potter had gruffly turned the thing off, muttering something incomprehensible. Potter turned around, and was standing too close to me for comfort, so I reflexively stepped back. He began talking to me,

“I'm going to try an Accio my Cleensweep (his prized broom) from my dorm, and it should work if the window is open”

Why hadn't I thought of that? It was a pretty good idea. I was going to be riding a Cleensweep! That was so cool! Excitedly I opened a Library window as he performed the spell. The room went dark, with only a scrape of light flickering in from the half-moon. So I awaited the Cleensweep to come rushing at us with great speed. But nothing happened. Sighing dejectedly after minutes of waiting, I turned back the library, of which I could only just make out in an eerie shimmer of light dancing on the edges of objects.

“I can't see, Potter” I said uncertainly, and hoped he heard me clearly, but not the dejection in my voice.

He made his wand light up once more, yet it was so close to him it highlighted his face spookily against the dark. “You wanted to come on a fly with me, didn't you”. It was more of a statement than a question. But I nodded anyway. His features showed a smile, but the light made it inhumanly fierce.

“What did you say, Evans”

“Hmm, oh, um, yeah. I did…can you point that blasted light somewhere away from your face. You would have seen me agree with you, if you had just shone the light on me before”

He just smiled cockily and aimed the light directly at me, blinding me. I ducked out of the lights path, and threw a small, close by book at Potters shin, while laughing.

“ We can sneak down to the Gryffindor change rooms, at the Quidditch pitch, there are a few old school brooms there. We can both fly back up to our dorms”

“But how are we going to get down there? We're at least a story above the ground. And even if you can levitate me down there first, how can I help you down? I left my wand in my dorm, so Kirsten could curl her eyelashes in the shape she wants”

Kirsten was my best friend. She was obsessed with keeping a prim and faultless appearance, thus the curling her lashes with wands and other such pointless rituals. Unfortunately she found that my wand was just the right size to do a “fabulous job”.

Potter laughed at hearing the last comment. I wondered if he thought I was joking?

“I'm not to sure how we are going to get down there. Maybe I should Accio your wand? If there's a door or window open, we should be able to get it.”

“Okay.”

He repeated the spell that he did earlier, yet it was my wand and not his Cleensweep that he had summoned. It actually came this time. But not to me, it whooshed over my head and jabbed Potter hardly in the chest. I smirked; my wand could do my bidding without even knowing it!

“Ugh, okay here it is”. He handed the wand over to me in the dark, and we hastened over to the opened Library window.

I climbed out of it first, and was standing on some rickety old tiles, slanted deeply, as if the roof was willing me to fall. But I edged along the side, giving room for Potter to climb out of the window too. It was hard to do with all the wind. I glanced sideways at him; his hair had that windswept look he so constantly tried to achieve back in our fifth year, and some of this year to. But he didn't play with his hair nearly as much now, I guess.

He actually looked quite handsome, with his robes billowing around him, his trendy glasses tilted upwards on one side of his face and his hair being thrashed around in the wind. He seemed much more comfortable than I was up here (And I'm not afraid of heights, just rickety, steep and unsafe roofs). Great! I was staring. Again. I really thought I had a problem with that. Luckily Potter was looking at me too, probably to see whether I was terrified or not. I hope I concealed my fear well.

“Okay, Potter, I'll levitate you down first. It'll be easier for you to levitate me once you're on the ground.”

“But I'm heavier than you, so I should levitate you down first, to make it easier” he rebuked.

With a sarcastic edge to my voice “Oh yes, and I really trust your brilliant ability with charms to do a good job from up here” He scowled, and relented.

I was smiling, because I knew charms were a certain weakness of his, although he was passing the class (and could actually do Wingardium Leviosa… which we learnt in first year. It would worry me if he couldn't pull off that charm effectively)

I bellowed the charm (but my voice got a bit lost in the violence of the wind), and levitated him to the ground. He looked as though he was going to sick at first, but the queasiness he must have felt wore of relatively quickly. He landed fairly safely on the ground, on his backside (I did that one on purpose, but it was also because of that ruddy wind; it made it very hard for me to concentrate).

Potter looked up at me and raised his wand,so I nodded that I was ready to go (though I really was screaming inside). I was being raised up into the air, my feet tingled uncomfortably and I felt like my stomach had shot towards the night's sky. I couldn't hear anything over the beat of my own heart. I felt my body shaking violently against my will. Horrid thoughts kept reeling through my head, but I kept them at bay by saying repeatedly:" just close your eyes, don't look down, don't look down, and don't look…"

I landed on my feet, and I think I looked utterly terrified. I like riding brooms; at least there is something to support you, and it gives you the most fantastic adrenalin rush. But being levitated without any supports whatsoever, on a dark and windy night, was a different story. It was absolutely terrifying. I slowly blinked open my eyes, and caught site of my arms rapt around my trembling body. Blood rushed to my face. I couldn't believe I looked so helpless in front of Potter.

“That broom ride better be worth it” I thought grimly to myself. Just at that moment I saw a light behind me, and whipped around. It was just illuminating from Hagrids' cabin (Hagrids wickedly awesome, he's one of the nicest people I've met. Never judges a book by it's cover, that bloke). Should we have just stay there the night? I knew Hagrid would let me, he would've understood. I wasn't so sure about him letting in Potter though; ever since that prank around a month and a half ago (where James and Sirius fed Fang some type of spawn that caused the poor dog to start tap dancing, badly.) Hagrid had been ignoring them both, and sending dirty looks their way every so often. They completely deserved it. Perhaps spending the night with Hagrid wasn't such a stroke of genius after all? Besides, I wanted to go flying something terrible.

Potter must have seen me staring at Hagrids hut, because in the next minute he commented uncaringly, “You want to sleep with the gamekeeper, eh?” I couldn't really tell what the look on his face was after he said that, so I just rounded on him…

“WHAT did you say? Were you ACTUALLY suggesting that I sleep with...”

“No, no, no…that came out wrong.” I snorted as he said this “If you want to spend the night there (he put a great deal of emphasis on those last four words), then we can. If your afraid of heights that's okay.”

“I am NOT afraid of heights. I love flying and Quidditch. The steep, unsafe roofs of an old castle do scare me though. And so does a boy barely passing charms levitating me a good few story's”.

I could see his hand, outlined by the glow of a crescent moon, ruffling his hair. “Well then Evans, if you like flying so much, let's just see what you're made of. Let's go.”

I'd show him. I followed him to the Quidditch Pitch, and we had to climb over a little barricade to get inside. That was it. I had never expected braking into a sports ground would be so easy. We walked over to the Gryffindor change rooms, which I'd never been into before. Potter got it open by whispering a password that I could not hear. It was big and had a damp, sweaty smell clinging to it. I followed Potter (like a lost Puppy, but a lost puppy bent on being just as good as Potter at flying fast) around a series of corners until we reached a little cupboard, with scratches and large marks that only bludgers smashing into it could make. Potter muttered Alohamora, and the door opened (It's about TIME that spell worked!) and there stood three abused looking brooms in all their glory.

I took one and Potter grabbed another. Neither of us took the one that had barely any bristles left on it, and heavy chunks taken out of the wood. We scurried outside onto the quidditch pitch with them. I mounted mine first.

“You ready?” I called, and heard the smirk in my own voice. I had gotten a lot of practice with Quidditch last summer, as I stayed over at Kirsten's place and we played two a side Quidditch against her brother, Trent (Who plays beater for Hufflepuff), and his friend Marcus. Kirsten was really bad at it, so I had to be extra good, to avoid the boys thrashing us at it all the time. I still hang out and have a fly down at the Quidditch pitch with Kirsten and some of my mates, every so often.

I didn't think Potter expected me to be any good with flying or heights, because of how I reacted to him levitating me. How I was going to prove him wrong…

“Yep, let's go, Evans” he spoke as he lifted of the ground. He was just hovering; he didn't actually start flying (unfairly) without me. I got up to the same height as him. And then we were off, whizzing about the Quidditch Pitch, seeing who could fly the fastest through all three goalposts. Then trying to see who could circle the entire pitch the fastest, afterwards we saw who could dive straight down to the other end of the pitch the farthest. James got that one. Damn.

I was worn out within forty minutes of racing, diving and mid air hide and seek games. It was so much fun. The cool winds whipping around me now felt good on my hot face. I dove down again, in the middle of the pitch. But this time I dismounted and James followed me, as he saw what i was doing. He did the same. He was grinning from ear to ear, so he must have gotten that rush of blood that flying can give you. His must have been able to have felt his heart hammering wildly and blood pulsing beautifully in his ears, just like I could.

“So who won?” I breathed out, heavily.

“I'm not sure. All I know is that I haven't had a good race like that in ages. You should try out for the team next year,” He proclaimed. “I could train you if you want. You'd make a fair chaser.”

I smiled, giddy with the nights air “If it's as much fun as that was, count me in” He just smiled in return. I continued, “So... race you back!”

I quickly mounted my broom again and sped of in the direction of the Gryffindor girl's dorms, and heard Potter approaching me at a decent speed. Just before I reached the window to my dorm, from which I could hear Kirsten and all of my friends erupting in a fit of giggles, I swooshed my broom around to face Potter.

He hadn't realised I was going to do that, and just kept on flying rapidly, before doing a U-turn (kind of thing) and flied back to me, so that he was positioned in front of my window. In the full view of all my friends.

“Good night then” He said, still smiling “I haven't had that much fun in ages. Thanks. And I'm going to have to question you for that interview soon”

I grinned and said “'Night, but what are we going to do with these broomsticks?”

“Just sneak it up to my dorm in the morning, and I'll get them back down to the Changing Rooms before anyone notices that they're gone”

“Right then, see you”. I whispered. And he sped off out of view. I could hear the gasps of my mates in the dorm, as they probably thought Potter had gone nutters and was just talking to thin air, because they couldn't see me.

Then I flew through the window, and everybody's gasps became louder. Marlene and Dana even shrieked.

“Why do you get to have all the fun, Lily?” one of them said. I couldn't tell which, because they were all bubbling with the thought of some good old gossip.

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Please tell me what you thought, and whether it made any sense or not. I'm thinking of extending this by a few chapters. But if it's better left ended here, then please tell me.

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