December, 1975. Nine days to Christmas …
A hundred mail owls whooshed into the Great Hall just as Lily entered, delivering the letters and parcels between their talons to the respective students. Lily spotted the other Gryffindor girls, and settled into a seat next to Alice. Directly across the table from them, Dorcas was busy paying a delivery owl for her subscription to the Daily Prophet. Lily carefully averted her eyes away from the newspaper; if there were more news of attacks, she didn't want to know.
'Did you see the notice on the common room notice board, Lily?' asked Alice. Lily shook her head as she reached for a slice of toast.
'No - why? Should I have?'
'Well, it's nothing really important. But the last weekend of term will be a Hogsmeade weekend - Dorcas and I are planning to do our Christmas shopping then. Maybe you'd like to join us?'
Lily swallowed a mouthful of toast and opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the arrival of a small fluffy owl. It dropped an envelope in front of her and chirped.
'For me?' Lily opened the envelope curiously. Who could have sent her a letter?
'That's -' Dorcas began, peering at Lily's letter from over the top of the Prophet. Before she could finish, however, the letter in Lily's hands burst into song.
'Your eyes are green as emerald seas
They make me go weak at the knees
Your hair is enchantingly red
I see it and blood rushes to my head
Beautiful Lily
Around you I go silly
Fulfil this letter's aims
And come to Hogsmeade with me, love James'
Lily felt herself turn a delicate shade of crimson as all those around her dissolved in helpless giggles. Alice gave her a sympathetic look, but the edges of her mouth were quirking upwards. Lily glared at the offending piece of parchment.
'Incendio!' People around her shrieked and edged away as it went up in flames.
'Miss Evans!' Professor McGonagall stalked angrily to their table. 'Ten points from Gryffindor! I would expect you, as a prefect, to maintain a higher level of discipline in your conduct.'
Lily glowered at the pile of ashes before her. Confound Potter and his ridiculous ideas! She'd be damned if she let him humiliate her yet again.
'Bad luck, Prongs,' said Sirius, grinning as the boys walked out of the Great Hall after breakfast. 'Flames in this case certainly don't signify passion.'
Remus raised an eyebrow - a feat which he was exceptionally good at and well-known for. 'I'd say they do, Sirius. I think she hates him with a passion. James, maybe you should -'
'That's the ninety-second refusal,' groaned James. 'Why won't she just agree? What does she want from me?' He wrinkled his eyebrows worriedly. Evans hadn't liked any of his previous attempts. She'd refused his flowers, his sweets, his letters, his polite requests, his begging, his offhand tries to ask her out - and now, his poetry. It was humiliating, to say the least. But that wasn't the big thing - the problem was, he really did like her. She was different from the other girls: they bored him; she intrigued him. He knew he could talk to her, and she'd like him if they just went out once. They'd been good friends before and he hadn't forgotten, although he couldn't really remember why they'd fallen out. Why wouldn't she give him a chance?
Remus turned to stare at James seriously. 'James, maybe you need to - oof!'
They turned the corner and Remus walked straight into another student.
'Watch where you're going, you oaf!'
'Sorry,' said Remus apologetically.
'You.' Only one person in the school spoke to Remus in that oily, despising voice. The person who both James and Sirius detested more than Cockroach Cluster (and both boys hated Cockroach Cluster with a passion).
'Sorry is right, Lupin,' sneered Severus Snape. 'I don't need the likes of you dirtying my robes.'
'And just what do you mean by that!' roared Sirius.
Snape glared back at him coldly. 'I told the filthy half-blood to stay out of my way, Black. I -' He didn't get any further, as Sirius lunged at him and grabbed his collar roughly. Snape plunged his hand inside his robes, but James was quicker.
'Relashio!' Sparks shot out from his wand. Snape hissed as they hit his wrist and promptly dropped his wand.
'Apologise.' James held his wand eye-level with Snape.
'James - Sirius - I don't think -' said Remus hesitantly. James ignored him.
Snape's face was pale - paler than usual, at least - but his voice was calm. 'I'll call him whatever I want.'
'You're the filthy one around here, Snivellus,' growled Sirius, tightening his grip on Snape's collar. 'Don't you dare insult Remus.'
'You don't learn, do you, Snivellus,' said James. How many times would they have to teach Snape to keep his mouth shut?
'We'll teach you a real lesson this time.' Sirius clenched his fist tighter, causing Snape to gasp. James ran through a list of spells mentally, trying to find one that they hadn't used on Snape before.
'Stop that! Expelliarmus!'
Five wands sailed away from their owners (even from Peter, who hadn't said a single word during the entire exchange) and landed neatly in the hands of Lily Evans. James gulped.
'Hi, Evans!' He meant to say it brightly, but his voice came out as a squeak. Lily ignored him. Snape gave a derisive snort.
'Magic in the corridors is prohibited, as you should well know,' said Lily sternly, with a pointed look at Remus. 'And I've had enough of the three of you. Potter, Black - leave Snape alone. Snape, why don't you make things easier for yourself and stay out of their way.'
'Don't tell me what to do, Mudblood,' snarled Snape. 'Give me back my wand.'
That was gratitude for you! James would never know how Lily could stand there calmly and look Snape in the eye.
'Don't call her a you-know-what!' he yelled. He could never bring himself to say the word.
'Shut up, Potter,' snapped Lily. She held out Snape's wand to him; he snatched it away and immediately polished it on his robes, as though her fingerprints on it were filthy. James gritted his teeth. This wasn't justice!
'Move along, Snape. I don't want to see you in another fight.'
He glared at her, but stalked off all the same.
'Evans, I -'
'Professor McGonagall will hear about this, Potter. You too, Black.' She returned the remaining four wands.
'He called you a you-know-what!' James burst out angrily. 'How can you just let him walk away like that?'
Lily fixed him with a seething glare. James thought she was about to yell at him some more (he admitted grudgingly that she was paying him some attention now, at least), but she simply stood there, her narrowed eyes unfathomable. Finally, when she opened her mouth to speak, it was in a soft, but icy-cold tone.
'You'll never understand, will you, Potter. You think you're so cool, but you're no better - just because you don't dare say the word Mudblood doesn't make you any less despicable.'
And she turned sharply on her heel, leaving James to stare after her open-mouthed.
She hated him.
She really, really hated him.
How dare he strut around and pretend to be all righteous and condescending just because everybody believed him to be the golden boy of Gryffindor! How dare he fashion himself as the defender of all Muggle-borns!
He was just as bad and every bit as prejudiced as those who detested her for her blood. The only difference was that instead of 'Mudblood', he called them 'Slimy Slytherin Snakes'. Or worse insults.
Lily couldn't stand it. Especially when she knew that it could have been different.
If he hadn't been such a star on the Quidditch pitch. If he hadn't let all the attention go to his head. If everyone hadn't pampered and spoilt him and given in to his every whim. She was probably the only one who bothered to stand up to him. Not that it did that much good in deflating his swollen head. No matter how many times she put him down, he just bounced back up like an India rubber ball.
When she thought about the boy he had been, the boy he could have been, and the boy he was now, Lily couldn't help feeling a sense of loss. Potter hadn't been all that bad in their first two years at Hogwarts. In fact, they'd been near best friends. She'd first met him on the train, after being scared off by a full compartment of Blacks (including Sirius Black) who had called her 'Mudblood' and told her to go home.
Potter had found her first, borrowed a handkerchief for her from Remus (not having had one himself) and charged into the compartment to demand an apology from the Blacks. He'd emerged with a black eye and a letter to Professor McGonagall which earned him a detention upon their arrival at Hogwarts.
Come to think of it, his nature hadn't changed that much; even now he still had that hero complex. Except now he got into fights for the fun of it. And he didn't limit his hex-hurling to the ones who deserved it. He picked on just about anyone in the corridors, just to show he could, to show he was cool, to show he was invincible.
And no one ever said anything about it, because he was a Quidditch star, and had been ever since third-year, when he'd been made the youngest Quidditch captain in a century. It didn't help that girls swooned over him left and right when they weren't eyeing Black. In fact, that was how they'd fallen out - even if Potter's thick head probably couldn't remember something so insignificant. Lily still remembered that day at the beginning of third year, when a bunch of fourth-year girls had entered their compartment, giggling and blushing as they invited Potter and Black to join them. 'You don't have to sit with this boring lot,' one of them had whispered just loud enough for Lily to hear.
It had hurt, terribly, when Potter and Black both left the compartment with bemused but excited expressions. When they returned later, the train was pulling into Hogsmeade station, and they were boasting to an appreciative Peter and a mildly interested Remus about their popularity with the fourth-years as they pulled on their robes.
Lily had only listened in disgust. She continued to be disheartened throughout that year, as Potter and Black rose to the top of the Hogwarts popularity charts; Remus and Peter were relegated to their loyal side-kicks.
It made her sick. And sad too, because she'd thought - hoped, even - that James Potter could have been more than a conceited git.
But he had chosen not to.
'She hates me,' moaned James. 'She hates me.' He buried his head in his hands.
'It's all Snape's fault, James, you know it.' Sirius patted his back awkwardly. 'He's always up to no good; I bet he's laughing away now. Stinking git.'
'Yeah,' Peter piped up. 'He's always insulting us.'
James groaned and turned away. The cold fury in Lily's tone and eyes were haunting him now - he found himself wishing that she had just yelled at him as usual. 'You'll never understand, will you, Potter.' Had there been disappointment in her voice? But she had never believed him to be good enough to meet her standards, had she?
'That's it!' cried Sirius suddenly. He pushed past a bewildered Peter and exited the common room at a run. James dragged his mind away from Lily and gave Peter a questioning look.
'He had a brainwave, I expect. He was muttering about Moony having the honours to get back at Snape. Perhaps he's gone to find Remus?'
'Remus has lessons, Peter.'
'Maybe it's urgent,' shrugged Peter. 'Want to play chess?'
'Er - all right.' James tried to concentrate on the game, but ended up losing spectacularly.
Lily didn't even glance in his direction once during Potions. She had already set up her cauldron at a table with Dorcas, Alice, and a Ravenclaw when James entered the classroom. He tried in vain to catch her eye the whole lesson, the result being that the Draught of Peace he was supposed to be making started emitting copious green fumes that caused Professor Slughorn to choke as he came around to inspect their potions.
'You need to pay more attention to the process of addition of hyacinth roots,' admonished Professor Slughorn. He moved on to the Slytherin table, where Snape was smugly corking a bottle of perfectly-brewed Draught of Peace.
'Excellent, Severus - I couldn't have done it better myself … Not too far off, Miss Reading …' Slughorn weaved between cauldrons, inspecting the contents of each. He stopped at Lily's and smiled fondly. 'Well now, Miss Evans. What have we here? It does smell heavenly.'
'Peaceful, you mean, Professor,' corrected Lily with a grin.
'Of course, of course, how appropriate.' Slughorn held up her flask and peered curiously at it. 'May I ask exactly how you achieved this effect?'
'I scented it with heliotrope nectar,' explained Lily. 'It's inert when used in potions … I thought I'd just try it out.'
'With excellent results!' beamed Slughorn. 'I must write that down, for future reference, now …'
Hoping Potions had put Lily in a happier, more forgiving mood, James made a last futile attempt to meet her gaze. Unfortunately, Slughorn called her and Snape to the front of the class after dismissing the rest, and James resigned himself to following Sirius out of the classroom disconsolately.
Back in their dormitory, Sirius repeated himself three times before James registered that he was talking to him.
'Come again?'
'I said,' said Sirius impatiently, 'that Snape's going to get it this time.'
James dragged his mind away from the enchanting topic of Lily Evans, and tried to focus on what Sirius was trying to tell him.
'What's the plan this time?'
'We're sending him to the Shrieking Shack tonight.'
James blinked. Sirius was joking. He had to be. He laughed.
'You almost had me going there, Padfoot. Can you imagine? Snape against Moony … he wouldn't survive ten seconds!'
'That's the idea,' said Sirius, looking pleased. 'After all, old Snivellus always picks on Moony. Let him get his own back!'
James considered this seriously for a moment. It was a tempting idea, sending Snape to face a werewolf … if he'd even dare, old coward that he was. But …
Snape could get killed.
Which was good, wasn't it?
NO!
He hated Snape. But he didn't want him dead.
'Not a good idea, Sirius. Imagine the consequences … Moony could kill him, you know how he is …'
'Good riddance!' sniffed Sirius. 'Anyway, you don't need to worry about the details - I've sorted him out. He ought to be heading down there -' Sirius glanced at his watch '- about now.'
'What?!' James yelped. 'Sirius, you're not serious, are you?'
'Of course I'm Sirius, who else -'
'Sirius! We can't just send him to get killed.'
'He'd do it to us,' argued Sirius.
You're no better than them.
The full meaning of Lily's words sank in there and then. He really wasn't any better than those he despised. No wonder Lily despised him.
But he didn't want Snape dead. And - the chilling thought hit him - he didn't want Remus to be a murderer. Killing was … evil. It was what the Dark side did.
'No. Sirius, we'll be murderers. Remus will be a murderer. Did you even think about what'll happen to him then?'
'Ah … old Snivellus won't have the guts to go in … he'll balk at the Willow …' But Sirius's voice didn't sound convinced.
'And if he doesn't?' James furrowed his brow. 'Sirius, what exactly did you tell him?'
'I - I told him how to get past the Willow,' said Sirius miserably. 'I didn't think -'
'Of the consequences,' finished James. And there would be consequences.
Snape would meet Moony in the Shrieking Shack.
Moony would attack Snape.
It would kill Remus when he found out.
The Ministry would kill Remus when it got out.
Snape couldn't be allowed to go in the tunnel. It took only a split second for James to make up his mind. Sirius was still sitting, horror-struck as the full realisation of what he had done hit him. James didn't care. Sirius was an idiot. He'd deal with him later. Now, there were more pressing matters. He got up and sprinted the length of the common room.
'Where are you going?'
James almost didn't answer Sirius's shaky question. When he did, it came out as a single statement charged with anger and fear and, for once, conviction.
'To do the right thing.'
A/N: My beta, jamc91, deserves a big thank you for drawing my attention to a big error in this chapter. If it weren't for her, James and Sirius would have been shouting about Remus's lycanthropy all over the Great Hall!