As far as Hogsmeade visits went, Valentine's Day of 1978 had been an unqualified disaster. James, as a single teenage male, did not understand the ridiculous significance the girls his age (and perhaps older, he didn't know) placed on the day. He himself had always thought it a bit of a waste- an excuse for people in relationships to flaunt their coupledom. This bitterness was more attributed to his own persistently single status. Whatever girlfriend he had- their time together was always short, as his attention was diverted every time by the fiercely attractive Lily Evans. This pathetic excuse for a holiday (they didn't even have school off!) happened to be one of the worst in James' memory.
Originally, he and his mates had planned to head to Rosmerta's as soon as possible to have a few and listen to the Caerphilly Catapults on the wireless in the Three Broomsticks. But, one thing had led to another and Sirius, who was still seeing Sarah MacElroy, had agreed to take her out that weekend. That was normal. On Wednesday, James and his mates had been enjoying a lunch of roast beef sandwiches when Leslie sidled up beside him.
"Hey, you," she said fondly, reaching out a hand and touching James on the shoulder. James looked up.
"Oh, hullo, Leslie," James said, foisting a smile onto his face. He had come to the conclusion that the best thing for him would be to affix his affections to another girl. And Leslie... Well, it simply made sense. She was pretty enough, and seemed to adore him, though to an extent that made James feel a bit shifty. But she really liked Quidditch, and could discuss it with him for hours on end. "How's your day been?"
"Ooh, just fine," she replied, as Sirius made room for her on the bench. She sat down, dragging her hand down from his shoulder to his hand; a bold move. James steeled himself and took her hand. Leslie beamed.
"So, who's the lucky girl this weekend?" she asked. "Your Hogsmeade date?" she elaborated.
"Oh, er, " said James, surprised this had come up so quickly. He had rather preferred to ask her in his own time, rather than the other way 'round.
"Cos I haven't got a date," Leslie said. "And I was wondering, since it's Valentine's weekend, if you'd care to keep me company, Jamesie."
Sirius looked meaningfully at him over the top of Leslie's blonde braid. James took a sip of pumpkin juice to buy himself time. He caught sight of Lily Evans down the table. Had she turned in her seat, had she even glanced his way, he'd have turned Leslie Olcott down. However, at that moment, Ewan Forrester sat down across from her and engaged her in conversation. That did it. James set down his glass and turned to Leslie, mouth spreading in a smile.
"That sounds perfect, Leslie," James said, though he felt a bit sickish as he said it.
Leslie beamed and squeezed his hand and ruffled his hair and pressed a kiss to his cheek before flouncing away.
Sirius chuckled. "Mate," he said, having watched the entire exchange, "you've no future in acting. Good thing she didn't catch on. But this will be good for you. Moving on, I mean."
James made no comment. Of course he didn'treallywant to go with Leslie- he didn't want to take a date at all- but he had determined this would be good for him.
"We're still listening to the match on the wireless, whether you two have dates or not, right?" asked Peter. James nodded. Little could separate him voluntarily from his beloved team.
That Thursday, James had sought Leslie out and informed her with no uncertainty that he was still planning on listening
to the match. It was common knowledge that the Gryffindor was a die-hard Catapults fan, after all. Leslie had batted
her eyelashes in a way that she must have thought was quite winsome and told James that as long as they
weretogether, they could be listening to the local weather forecast and she wouldn't care. She had also
called him 'Jamesie'. He had cringed, unable to stop himself. Also common knowledge was the fact that James
Potter couldn't stand babying nicknames. However, Leslie had flitted off before he could correct her. Perhaps the
largest disappointment of the
Despite his feelings of trepidation about the date, Saturday approached more quickly than James thought was possible. And before he knew it, the lot of them were headed to Hogsmeade, his hand held in a vise-tight grip by Leslie. Her hands were soft, he supposed, but her perfume was a bit too strong for his tastes. But she had done her hair and makeup, and James would have been lying if he claimed to not find her attractive.
If there was one thing to be said about Leslie Olcott, it would be that the girl did not give up easily. James supposed he ought to accept her perseverance, as he himself had until very recently persisted in his pursuit of Lily Evans. However, now, he realized that it was simply obnoxious.No wonder,he thought, half-glum and half prepared to smack Leslie across the face as she straightened his collar and brushed her hand across the back of his neck as they sat in the Three Broomsticks around Rosmerta's wireless. He stared down at the pint of mead in front of him, neck flushing slightly in embarrassment as his mates watched him be manhandled. Usually, James would be all for a physical distraction. He made no claims to sexual sainthood though he'd never gone all the way, but this was just humiliating. More than once, he told Leslie in an undertone that she needed to stop inching her hand from her knee up his thigh. He wasn't about to start snogging her in a public place when they weren't even actually dating. And truthfully, with the way things were going, he wasn't likely to kiss her at all.
She had lured him with her knowledge of Quidditch and (truth be told) her cute figure, but had proven herself to be silly and shallow. She talked mostly about herself at a high pace, even when the match was getting particularly heated, and by the end of the first hour, James' mates were regretting that they had advised him to go out with the girl.
No, truthfully, James just wanted to be there with Lily. That much was obvious. Even if they hadn't been there as a couple, it would have been nice to hang out with her outside of classes or Patrols. Though lately it seemed as if fate was mocking him and Lily was being unintentionally saucy with him, he enjoyed her company. Remus called him a masochist, but James knew better. And, truthfully, the other boys enjoyed Lily, too. When James had let up and stopped pestering her for a date all the time, she had ended up hanging around a bit. It wasn't magical, and she wasn't instantly a best friend to all four boys, but Remus and Peter both confided to James that they could see why he fancied her so much. Sirius had been more difficult to convince, especially after Lily's latest 'no' had so devastated James.
On top of the rubbish date, the Caerphilly Catapults lost the semifinal bid by over two hundred points. James Potter was in a very bad mood by the time the lot of them had headed back to the castle, but Leslie Olcott was undeterred. She was convinced she would improve the Head Boy's mood, and was willing to do whatever it took to get a second date. He tried to part with her in the Great Hall. But that didn't stop her from flinging her arms around James' neck and bringing his head down to hers and kissing him in a way most gently described as 'enthusiastic'. There was a brief internal struggle before James firmly detached himself from the Hufflepuff girl. Leslie smirked and told him that was fine with her- they could pick up where they left off later.
James made a note of the fact that slobbering on someone else's tightly sealed lips should never be misconstrued as
sexy. He wondered if he ought to send Leslie this tidbit of highly valuable information in an anonymous letter, or let
her find out from someone else in her own time.
And so, he turned and walked away, thanking her wryly for the lovely day. She followed, pelting him with questions about a second date, a picnic, or a moonlit stroll. None were forthcoming, and James swiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he headed toward the Portrait Hole.
"Listen," he said, turning around. "We had a good time today. Let's leave it at that, all
right?"
Leslie frowned.
"But what about next weekend? We could do something together then, too."
James raised his eyebrows.
"Next-? Leslie, look. You're a great girl," he began, and Leslie seemed to glow suddenly under this
praise, "but here's the thing. I...er... I don't think I can keep up with you." It was a lame excuse,
and he wasn't even really sure what it meant, but Leslie beamed at him and giggled. It was a grating, high-pitched
sound.
"Ooh, Jamesie!" she said, swatting his arm playfully. "You're such a flatterer!"
Leslie stepped forward and hugged him tightly around the middle. He patted her back and then extricated himself.
"So..." he said, "goodnight."
Leslie wiggled her fingers in a wave and dashed off for the Hufflepuff common room.
Thinking he had just dodged a formidable bludger of a girl, James gave the password to the Fat Lady and headed inside. He was not prepared for what awaited him. James may have thought he had just had the worst Valentine's Day on record, but in Lily's opinion, hers had been far more horrible.From an outsider's perspective, there was absolutely no reason why she wouldn't be in an excellent mood. She had over half of her weekend's homework already completed, which meant she could spend some of Sunday relaxing. Her application to the Mungo's training program had been completed and sent in last Thursday, so that was a load off her mind. Even better, today's Hogsmeade visit had gone off without a hitch; no third-years had gotten lost, she hadn't had to escort any drunken fifth-years back to the castle. Lily herself had been accompanied by Thomas Meade a good-natured and attractive Hufflepuff with whom she often paired in Herbology class, and the date had gone rather well. Except for the one tiny problem that Thomas Meade was not the Head Boy, and James was the only one with whom Lily had wanted to go. She had only accepted Thomas' invitation after she'd overheard thatstupidLeslie Olcott bragging to her friends in the bathroom about how she was going with "Jaaaamesie" to Hogsmeade that weekend as hisValentine'sdate and wasn't that justobviouslya sign that he'd finally gotten over that snotty Evans bint and seen the light?
She had almost wanted to burst out of her bathroom stall and give the Hufflepuff a piece of her mind. For starters,
Lily was almost certain that James would be cringing in dismay to hear his supposed date saying "Jaaaaamesie"
in that nasty, syrupy-sweet voice of hers. And furthermore, she did not take kindly to anyone calling her a bint. Even
behind her back. But she'd stayed where she was and hadn't left her stall until she was certain Olcott and Co.
had left because, however much she hated Leslie in that moment, Lily was deathly afraid that the other girl was right.
She had suspected for weeks that there was something going on between James and the Hufflepuff girl, and if James had
asked Leslie to Hogsmeade, even after weeks of relentless flirting and hint-dropping on Lily's part, what other
explanation could there be than that he had moved on?
So when, later that afternoon and just before Herbology, Thomas had asked her about the Hogsmeade trip that weekend, she had said yes, not because she was interested in him or even knew him that well, but because she had strongly hoped that James would see them enjoying themselves together. Maybe if flirting wouldn't do the trick, jealousy would do it for her. Except that her plan had backfired. Halfway through the date, she and Thomas had trooped into the Three Broomsticks for some lunch and what should be the first sight to greet Lily's eyes as she stepped in the door? James and Leslie. And, as she had watched with increasingly horror-filled eyes, Leslie had slid up beside him on the booth seat they were sharing and leaned in close to murmur something in his ear while one of her hands ruffled his hair playfully.
Suddenly, Lily hadn't felt so hungry anymore; rather, she'd felt like flying at the stupid blonde bimbo in a murderous rage, prying her off of James and then tearing her limb from limb. Fortunately for her romantic rival, Lily had been wise enough to choose a different path. Somehow, she had managed to convince Thomas that they would be better off in a less-crowded pub, even though The Three Broomsticks was the best one in town. Once they were back out in the snowy streets and away from the vomit-inducing sight of Leslie and James, the Head Girl was able to calm down somewhat, but she had remained subdued the rest of the afternoon. Thomas was kind enough to suggest that they return early, once he had noticed his date's spirits flagging, and Lily had gratefully bid him goodbye in the Entrance Hall, feigning a headache and saying that she only needed to lie down for a brief nap. But, once she had returned to Gryffindor Tower, she couldn't sleep. Desperate for something to do, she had brought a bit of schoolwork downstairs to the Common Room, only to find she couldn't concentrate on that either. She couldn't seem to get the image of James and Leslie out of her mind, and so her assignment remained barely started, even as the hours passed and every student returned to the tower. Every student, save one. Truth be told, Lily was stung by the knowledge that, despite how hard she had tried to get him to notice her, James had chosen another girl over her. It was, perhaps, the first time that she had been overlooked, and she didn't like the feeling at all.
Just as Lily was mulling over this unhappy circumstance, she heard voices outside the closed portrait hole. One of them sounded very much like the Head Boy, and the other... ah yes. Who else but Leslie Bitch Olcott had that breathy, high-pitched giggle that she seemed to think was so sexy? Lily abandoned all pretense of doing schoolwork and concentrated instead on trying to hear what they were saying. Not ten seconds later, James himself rushed through the portrait hole, and Lily hurriedly sat up to see if Leslie was still outside in the corridor. She wished next that she hadn't looked, because she was then treated to the sight of Leslie beaming and waving after James and blowing him a sickly sweet kiss. Ugh! That cow! Her green eyes narrowed and swiveled to James. Was it just her imagination, or did his hair look particularly rumpled tonight? His jumper too! And was that lipstick on his collar? So angry was she that the Head Girl didn't bother looking again to make sure that her assumptions were correct. Even if there hadn't been any lipstick on James' collar, her irate jealousy would have seen it there anyway.
Without thinking, acting on pure instinct, Lily glared up at James as he passed her armchair and sneered, "Looks like someone enjoyed himself a bit too much tonight. Does that explain why you almost missed curfew?"
He flinched away almost imperceptibly, feeling suddenly and inexplicably guilty.
"ErÉ hulloÉ" he said tentatively, wondering what on earth had brought on the venom in LilyÕs voice. He glanced at his watch. "I'm fifteen minutes safe, thanks. Have you..." he trailed off as her expression remained determinedly angry. "Are you all right?"
His befuddled expression only angered Lily further. How could he not know what he had done? Was he that oblivious? And didn't he know it was rude to sit there in plain sight in a public area and be all over your date? That sort of thing was only acceptable in Madame Puddifoot's, where people expected that sort of thing. But at the Three Broomsticks,somepeople actually wanted to eat their lunch without vomiting it up at the sight of some tart of a Hufflepuff getting her hands all over one of the most infuriatingly dense specimens of Hogwarts' male population. What was this nonsense about fifteen minutes safe? That wasobviouslybeside the point.
"Oh yes," she snapped back, her hands balling into even tighter fists as they rested on her hips. "So glad you managed to pry your lips off of Olcott early enough to make it back in time."
Now that he was closer to her, she could see that there was, indeed, a bit of lipstick on his collar. That little smudge of red sent a knife of white hot pain through Lily's heart, leaving her torn between fury and hatred. She hated Leslie. She hated James. She couldn't decide which one she hated more at the moment. Why, of all the people James could take to Hogsmeade instead of her, did he have to pick Leslie Olcott? How could he choose her over Lily? Sure, the Hufflepuff was curvier and definitely two cup sizes bigger, but she was soboring. And she was stupid! And had that obnoxious laugh. And she only liked him because he was rich, popular and good at Quidditch. She didn't care that James was the smartest, wittiest, kindest, most determined and dependable person that Lily knew. All she saw was the (admittedly attractive) outer package. But no! James, brilliant young man that he was, had to choose Leslie over Lily. It was unthinkable! An outrage! It was downright insulting. And it was about to send her into tears.
Heart-broken as she might have been, she was still determined not to let him know it. Swallowing hard, she blinked twice, rapidly, to keep her eyes clear. "You've lipstick on your collar, Potter," she informed him with a deprecating sneer. "Maybe next time, you could clean yourself up a bit before you return. All of Gryffindor house doesn't need to see what a sleaze their Head Boy has turned out to be."
James stared at her, mouth slightly agape. A red flush began to creep up his collar, from both Lily's
unprecedented assault and the embarrassment of being shouted at in the Common Room. It appeared that the stars had
aligned to mock him. His Quidditch team had performed abominably and that in and of itself was like a personal slight.
And then, he had been subjected to the subtle humiliation of a girl he did not fancy trying to snog him when he had
given her absolutely no indication that was what he wanted. On top of things, the girl who had broken his heart into a
hundred tiny pieces was now trying to begrudge him his lukewarm date. It was all becoming a bit much for the tall,
bespectacled boy. He found himself edging from staggered bewilderment to indignation.
"Excuse me?" he snapped. "What the hell are you on about, Evans?"
Here was the tricky part. While James was not interested in Leslie Olcott in the slightest, he wasn't about to crucify the girl for any traits she did or did not have. That simply was not James' style. How could you maintain status as one of the student body's most beloved if you cut girls down behind their backs? He felt a small flicker of loyalty to the somewhat dim bulb that was Leslie. Lily had no right to spit her name with such disdain, even if James had been irritated almost beyond his tolerance just minutes before. He found himself growing angry with her. This was ridiculous. What right had she to ream him out?
"I'm not a sleaze, thank you. And I don't know what you're on about- I was listening to the match at the Three Broomsticks! Ask anyone!" A note of defensiveness mingled with the panic in his tone. He glanced around, wishing he could somehow summon any of his mates to back him up. He hadn't done anything wrong. How could Lily have known that Leslie tried to snog him, anyway? He looked down at himself and saw nothing on his person that would somehow indicate that he'd kissed anyone at all. Lily had to be making this up.
"Honestly, Evans," he said coolly. "The way you're carrying on, anyone would think you werejealous."
For a split second, Lily froze. How had he known? Had she really been that obvious? She was not in self-denial. She
knew she was extremely jealous of the probably beautiful, wonderful, happy Valentine's date that Leslie Olcott had
gotten to enjoy with the object of their mutual affection, and very likely she would get to enjoy another date this
coming weekend. Well okay, next weekend was Quidditch, but after that! Even though Lily had admitted her jealousy to
herself, she still felt that it was warranted. Leslie didn't belong with James! She was much too shallow and silly
for someone as high-minded and intelligent as James was. Still, even though the Head Boy had hit the nail on the head,
Lily had no intention of actually admitting to it. Not now that he had so obviously moved on.
She tossed her head and responded acidly, "Why would I be jealous of a- a shallowwomanizerlike
you?"
If James Potter was anything, he was most definitely not a womanizer. The young man had made his share of mistakes and had trod on some shady ground where girls were concerned, but his elderly parents had made sure to instill a strong sense of morality in their son. He wasn't the sort to cop a feel on a first date or to try and push a girl further than she wanted to go. And, despite a few rumors to the contrary, Gryffindor's Quidditch hero was a virgin. A good kisser, perhaps, and charmingly attractive, but the tousle-haired Head Boy was not out for a good romp. To be otherwise would have betrayed his parents. While they hadn't been the most conventional or even the most involved guardians of any child, they had made sure young James had known right from wrong. His mother had explained to him on multiple occasions just how to treat a lady. And so, when Lily hurled this little barb at him, the jab he felt was directed at his recently departed mother.
His temper began to rise. Just who did Lily Evans think she was? She was like a beautiful demon summoned from a vile
sector of hell, out to torment him. He couldn't have her, and apparently could also not have any other girl who
showed a bit of interest in him. All the unfairness and unexpressed hurt and frustration began to bubble over. James
crossed his arms, hands clenched tightly so that his fingernails left little half-moons in the fleshy part of his
hands. He told himself he had better watch his mouth, for the first words that came to his mind were four-lettered and
none too chivalrous. He swallowed his retort and tried to find a cleaner way to tell her off.
"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Evans," he said through gritted teeth. "Do us both
a favor and leave off." He was fuming. He wanted nothing more than to go up to Gryffindor Tower, grab his
Invisibility Cloak, and just leave the castle. He needed a run or something to help clear his head. And where on earth
were his mates when he needed them?
"You're the one who doesn't understand anything, Potter," she retorted scathingly, her temper rising just as rapidly as his. Her eyes narrowed to slits and her whole body was rigid with fury as she snapped, "Now run along. I wouldn't want to keep you from the midnight rendezvous I'm sure you have planned with Olcott." With another haughty toss of her head, Lily whirled around and stalked back to her armchair, where she picked up her textbook and parchment and began to scrawl vigorously across the questionnaire that she was supposed to be answering for Charms class on Monday.
As he was so cruelly dismissed, James closed his eyes and shook his head, biting back the petulant diatribe he longed
to fling at Lily. She just didn't get it. He walked silently behind her armchair, on his way up to his dormitory,
and paused at the foot of the stairs, turning his head back to look at her. He couldn't read her face and realized
for the first time that he didn't want to.
"You know, Evans," he said quietly, looking at her with solemn eyes, an expression of disgust mingled with
disappointment on his face. "I thought you were all right. Thanks for showing methis." He gestured
toward her with his hand, fighting the urge to cry. All idols have feet of clay, or so the saying goes. There had never
been a moment before when James disliked Lily. It was, he decided, an awful feeling. After another moment of trying to
piece things together, he shook his head again and headed up the stairs to Boys Dorm 3C, and the comfort of his
four-poster.
It was a very good thing that neither Head student could see the other's face, for if Lily had seen the expression
on James' as he sent his parting shot her way, their relationship might have worked out quite differently. As it
was, his words were bad enough. Obviously, he didn't fancy her anymore, and based on what he'd just said, he
probably didn't even want to be friends with her either. Angry though she was, his rejection still stung; the pain
in her heart mirrored by the stinging tears that were welling behind her tightly-shut eyelids. She was hurt, confused
and frustrated almost beyond her ability to bear it. Not long after James had retreated to the boys' dormitory,
Lily gave up on pretending to do her homework and hurried upstairs for the comfort of her own bed and perhaps a rant to
Marlene and Mary.
The next week, as far as James and Lily were concerned, was like a regression to sixth year. Lily studiously avoided any contact other than what was absolutely necessary. Fortunately, they did not have to hold one of their bi-monthly Prefects meetings that week, and she managed to convince Remus to switch patrol times with her so that she would not have to spend an unbearable two hours at James' side. There was one tiny bright spot: it did not appear that anything had progressed further between James and Leslie. Still, Lily was too depressed to think much of this, and she assumed they had another date planned for this weekend. She couldn't even look forward to the upcoming Quidditch match, because the sport was, in her mind, so intertwined with thoughts of James. And this week without him had been absolute hell. She hadn't truly realized until now how much she had come to depend on his cheery, light-hearted presence in her day. In light of their recent falling out, Lily was terribly afraid that she'd have to learn to live with his absence from her life.
Saturday morning dawned clear and cold, but sunny; a perfect winter's day, and one especially perfect for watching a Quidditch match. This was a very important one, because if Ravenclaw lost, they were more than likely to be out of the running for the House Cup. On days like this one, James was Gryffindor's golden boy. He could do no wrong when on a broomstick, for his natural ability was amplified by the stringent training regimen he and his team held to week after week without excuse. The match was an exciting one. Ravenclaw needed to be shut out, and James and his excellent team rose to the occasion. By the time the Snitch was caught and the match ended, James had personally scored nineteen goals, and their Keeper had really proved his mettle against Ravenclaw's excellent trio of Chasers. Sirius, for his part, had been such a blur with his Beater's club that James hardly ever saw him throughout the match, except for when a penalty was given to Ravenclaw after Sirius "accidentally" hit a Bludger straight into the opposing Chaser's groin.
Of course, with the overwhelming Gryffindor victory and the House Cup that much closer within reach, the effervescent
Gryffindors, with considerable help from Remus and Peter, threw together a victory party in the Common Room that was
sure to become the stuff of legend. The Marauders had long since learned that liquor helped a party burn brighter and
had begun to store large quantities of it behind a landscape of Notre-Dame on the seventh floor. Remus and Peter knew
to start the party while James wrapped things up with his team in the locker rooms. When James and Sirius arrived along
with the rest of the team, their entrance was heralded by many thumps on the back and congratulations. James was
beaming, full of pride at his team's performance. Almost immediately, he fell in talk with a few fifth-years who
were eager to replay a few of his more daring goals.
Of course, the victory somehow felt hollow. As he was regaled with tales of what he had just accomplished, James let his thoughts wander. Out of habit, he supposed, he had still searched the crowd for Lily's face as he completed a lap of honor after a rather spectacular penalty shot. And then, again, when he had dodged two bludgers and the other teams' Beater to score another goal through the rightmost hoop. And then when nothing interesting was going on at all, just to see if she was watching. He was pathetic. Even after they'd rowed (over what, he was still unclear), he couldn't bring himself to actually move past her. He missed her. As much as they sniped at each other, as much as she got under his skin, he could not deny that life without her seemed incomplete. His fleeting feeling of dislike had ebbed quickly the week before, and he had wanted to find a way to take back the awful things he'd said to her. And yet, he was always foiled. It didn't help things that Leslie Olcott had taken to surprising him around corners, squealing "Jamesie!" and trying to hug him. She was supposed to show up, he realized, and said a quick "see you!" to the fifth-years, heading for the drink table where he had just seen Lily ordering a drink. He hesitated, unsure of what he would say to her. That moment cost him the opportunity, and she moved away, drink in hand. He sighed and stepped up to the table where Sirius was pouring drinks. Maybe liquor would help him find the words...
Leslie did show up, two minutes later, a fact which only convinced Lily further that there was something going on
between she and James, especially when the blonde made a beeline for the hero of the hour and wrapped herself around
his arm. Lily's nose wrinkled, and she hurried to the other side of the room to avoid having to hear Leslie's
obnoxious cooing and ahhing over the Head Boy's considerable prowess on the pitch. If it was going to be like this
all night, she was going to need more than one drink to make it through. Thus, she tipped her head back and began
making fast work of the one she had just procured. Two rum and cokes into the night, and she was near to being totally
sloshed.
By this point, someone had conjured up a record player and massive speakers, and music was booming around the room. The furniture had been pushed against the walls to make room for a dance floor and there were now dozens of couples grooving the night away. With rather unfocused eyes, Lily scanned the makeshift dance floor and found that Leslie and James were not among the partners. Excellent. She could really use a good groove right now. Setting her empty glass aside, she tottered over to Mary and Marlene (who were both far more sober than she), grabbed each girl's hand and pulled them out into the twisting, swaying, swirling crowd with her.
"C'mon girls! Let's loosen up a bit!" she slurred, then raised her arms over her head and began to dance. Mary and Marlene exchanged a glance. Although neither girl felt much like dancing at the moment, they could both see that their friend was not in full possession of her faculties and was likely to need some looking after. So they complied with Lily's request and began dancing along with her.
One song later, Lily felt a hand tap her shoulder. She turned around, swaying slightly, and asked, "Yeah?"
"You're looking good tonight, Evans," the shoulder-tapper said with a practiced, arrogant grin. "Fancy a dance with me?"
Lily glanced back at her friends, who were watching in mild apprehension. The boy in question was one Tristan Bishop, who had a track record with women similar to Sirius Black's. In normal circumstances, Lily would have flatly turned him down, not willing to even toy with someone as immature and cruel as Tristan. But tonight, she was much too drunk to really think beyond the fact that here was a charming, highly attractive boy who was actually interested in her and wanted to dance with her. That was more than she could say aboutsomeof the men at Hogwarts. So she smiled winsomely and favored Tristan with a flutter of her lashes as she cooed drunkenly, "Why thank'ya, Tristan. I'd love t'dance w'th'you."
"Excellent," he responded, grabbing for her hand. "If you'll excuse us, ladies." And, with a parting smile to Marlene and Mary, he led Lily through the dancers to a spot closer to the speakers and (though Lily was far too sloshed to notice this) closer to the corner of the room in which all of the sofas and armchairs were pushed and where a couple or two were already taking advantage of the comfort and relative privacy this afforded.
As the night wore on, the party-goers became increasingly less sober; the drinks Sirius was pouring would have inebriated a centaur. James felt himself growing a bit fuzzy as the liquor he'd consumed took its effect. Instead of a moment in which all was made clear, he found his thoughts fleeing with his sobriety. One thing was on his mind, however, and that was Lily Evans. Even Leslie, with her provocative clothing and the brazen way she pressed her figure against his as they danced, could not distract him from searching over the crowd for Lily's hair.After a few moments of dancing, he realized that this was not at all what he wanted. He turned away, searching through the throng of people for the girl he couldn't seem to grasp. He was misled a few times by girls with coppery hair, but upon closer inspection, each lacked the fine features or near-tangible kindness that was such an integral part of Lily's person.
Leslie tugged on his arm.
"Jamesie!" she cried. "Dance with me-e-e-e."
"I'm for the loo," he said briefly. "Be back." This, of course was a lie. But Leslie wasn't
about to follow him there. Or, at least he hoped not. This was, however, a very good excuse to search through the mess
of tipsy or drunk students that crowded Gryffindor Tower. When he was about to give up, he finally spotted her, dancing
quite closely with Tristan Bishop, a Ravenclaw boy known for being somewhat of a Casanova, but without the class.
James' neck immediately flushed. So that was it, then? Lily wouldn't go out with him, but she'd let some
known tosser put his hands all over her? Something in James simply snapped. He edged through the crowd, delayed several
times by people putting themselves in his way for a word.
"'Scuse me, only take a minute," he kept repeating. He didn't have a plan, but he knew he would not
stand for this. The humiliation Lily still brought upon him! And yet, he recognized as he wove through the swaying
crowd, he was fiercely jealous. Besotted though he was, he felt a more than a bit protective of Lily, despite their
harsh words and estranged friendship. That Bishop bloke had no right to touch her like that, to brush his hands across
her chest, to hold her so tightly. It wasn't possessiveness James felt in this moment as he realized Tristan was
edging the pair of them to a more private corner. Righteous indignation flared in his heart. What sort of scum was
Tristan, anyway? Couldn't he see Lily was drunk? He was deliberately taking advantage of her. Lily- poor Lily! -
would never allow this if she were sober. She would be humiliated tomorrow when she regained her senses. No. James
could not let this go on. Not to his Lily. His girl deserved better than this.
Stepping forward into the little alcove in which Tristan was very nearly pawing Lily without shame, James shoved the other boy backward.
"Get off of her, you bastard!" he growled as Tristan staggered back a pace or two. Lily squeaked as Tristan bumped into her, throwing her off-balance.
"What's the matter, Potter? Jealous?" Tristan sneered, reaching out a hand to grab hold of Lily's.
"Can't stand she won't have you? Fuck off, Gryffindor!"
James gritted his teeth.
"Hands off her, Bishop," he said, an authoritative note in his voice, "or so help me, you'll wish you'd never laid a finger on her!"
"Oh, I've gotten more than just afinger, Potter-" Tristan taunted. But whatever the boy was
about to say was lost as James drew back his arm and threw a punch that landed squarely on Tristan Bishop's face.
Before Lily even realized what was happening, her dance partner was lying flat on the floor, on his back, with blood
beginning to trickle out of his nose.
She stood motionless, frozen in place. She was shocked. She was drunk. She was embarrassed. And somehow, her inebriated mind had come up with the explanation that all of this was James' fault. If he hadn't played fast and loose with her heart and left her in the dust for that stupid Hufflepuff girl. If he hadn't shown up and knocked out her dancing partner. If he would stop being so damn charming so she could get over him. If he would just...
Finally, the damn burst and she snarled, "Goaway, Potter! What the hell do you think you're doing?! Thanks for ruining my nightagain." It was difficult to maintain a hard, angry demeanor when the whole room was swaying around you, but Lily gave it her best shot, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at James with harsh, unfocused jade green eyes. The embarrassment and guilt she had initially felt were soon followed by shame and anger over the fact that it had been James to discover her in this compromising situation. Somehow, she still cared what he thought about her.
"Iruined your night?" James repeated, indignant. "How the hell did you come to that, Evans?" His tone turned sarcastic, deflecting the clenching humiliation that began to creep in on his conscience. He hadn't begun to feel any sort of remorse for what he had done until Lily had spoken. Sometimes, it seemed as though she alone could get him to check his actions.
"Well,sorry, then. Sorry I ruined your chances of getting some class-act to have a chance to be all over you. You know that's what he was on about, don't pretend to be innocent. But that's what you wanted? Merlin, Lily, I thought I knew you!" The pain of this was driving his words out of his mouth. They seemed to spill over his teeth with no chance of his being able to stop them. "I don't understand you. I was trying tohelp!"
"If you wanted to help, you wouldgo awayso I can continue forgetting all about you and your stupid, oblivious self!" Lily shrieked, her fury rising even higher. Who did he think he was, her father? He had no right to stand there talking to her like that! Why, he'd just basically insinuated that she waseasy. She wasn't going to let anything go that far. She'd just wanted to dance and laugh and for just one night forget about James and horribly painful fact that he didn't fancy her anymore and she'd lost any chance she ever had with him.
"I don't understandyou!" she snapped, irritated, "So you don't want me, but no one else can have me either? I am so sick of you and your- yourgames. Leave me alone!"
Lily couldn't bear this any longer. The pain, the humiliation, the frustration were all too much for her heart to handle. She hated fighting with him like this, but she didn't know what else to do. Now that the party was ruined for her, she only wanted to be alone somewhere. The room had suddenly become too hot and too crowded for her to stand it. Lunging forward, she shoved James aside with as much force and fury as she could muster and began staggering her way out through the crowd, headed for the portrait hole and the promise of a silent, empty classroom in which she could mourn the ruination of her most cherished dream.
While she ranted at him, James' alcohol-clouded mind tried to sort through the last few words exchanged, trying to glean any missed information from what had been said. She was trying to forget him? None of this was making sense. Everything that was coming out of Lily's mouth was simply supporting James' long-held belief that girls were mental and spoke a more complex language that was all about allusions and hidden meanings. Try as he might to crack this code, he simply could not figure it out. He stared at Lily, trying to work things out as her expression morphed from fury to pain and back to anger again. A tiny, faint flicker of hope blossomed unsummoned in his heart. Something registered in his brain that didn't quite translate to the rest of his conscience. It began to slowly grow more clear, like a badly-tuned radio squealing through a curtain of static. James realized that what he had seen was a reflection of his own misery.
Instantly, his mind was whirling. Everything she was saying was clear and crisp and bright and he understood what she meant. He had, in this tiny beat of time, broken through the manacles of girlspeak.That very thought had only just crossed his own mind minutes before. The preposterousness of it almost made him laugh. He, not want Lily? It was nonsensical. How could she ever, ever think that? Her words held a deeper meaning- one that James snatched and clung on to like a lifeline. He was trying to work out a way to tell her how wrong she was and explain himself when he felt himself be shoved backward and out of her way as she ran past him. He tried to catch up with her, calling out her name, begging her to wait just a moment, come back, please, but she was determined. He was held up once more by a few of his friends, telling him it was best to let her go. He shook them off and wove through the group of students, many of whom were watching the scene with mild amusement.
Once out in the corridor, James turned sharply to the left and right, trying to find her. He was about to call out her name when he spotted her hurrying down the left-hand corridor, her walk a bit unsteady. He lengthened his stride, doing his best to catch up with her before she had a chance to disappear on him.
Lily had no real plan about where she would escape to, so she turned left down the corridor. Half a minute later, she heard James calling after her again, and she picked up her pace, disappearing around a corner. Lily had almost made it to the first classroom doorway when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and heard James' voice behind her, asking her to stop. Much as she wanted to, she couldn't deny him, so she remained still and let him turn her around to face him.
"Lily, wait. Please."
Her expression, as she lifted her head, was that of utmost misery. There were unshed tears glistening in her eyes as she raised them to his, silently pleading him to end this torture and let her go in peace. Why oh why was he looking at her like that? Didn't he know it only made things worse? Lily was about to brush the hand off of her shoulder when James lifted it of his own accord and cupped her cheek.Slowly, gently, he tipped her face upward and leaned down, his eyelids falling closed as he kissed her.
Lily froze, her mind reeling for just one second, and then she sagged against him, her eyes closing as she savored the moment she had been dreaming about for months now. As her lips moved urgently beneath his, all of the pain and confusion from the past week seemed to melt away. Her whole world narrowed and centered around she and James, and for the first time in a long time, she was blissfully content. Her lips parted in a happy sigh, and she stepped closer, looping her arms around James' neck as they continued to kiss in the dim, silent corridor.
For all of fifteen seconds, she was on cloud nine. And then reality kicked in like a bolt of lightening and shot her out of the sky, kicking and screaming back down to earth. For Lily had none of James' recent epiphany to give her any sort of hope. To her, this was merely a cruel sort of joke. The one thing she wanted most in all the world was for James to hold her close like this, but he had made clear he would have none of that. And yet here he was, taunting her with just a little taste of a heaven she could never have. Suddenly, her eyes flew open, and she twisted her way out of the circle of his arms, turning her head away because she couldn't bear to look at him.
"I can't do this," she muttered, then pushed her way past him for the second time that night and fled back down the corridor.
James couldn't understand. She couldn't do this? What was that supposed to mean? He fancied her, she fancied him- what was the problem? They had been such a long time in coming down this road, and now the ground was being pulled out from under him. Did she think he was playing about? Because if so, she had another thing coming. He tripped over his own shoelace in his attempt to chase after her, nearly falling to the ground in the process.
"Wait!" he called out, reaching out a hand as if to stay her once more. But she had left him in the hallway without a backward glance.
He stood there a long moment, putting a hand to his mouth and touching his lips gently. It was like the ghost of her
lingered there. If only she would have stayed, James was sure he would have been able to fix everything.