AN: This is loosely based on the skeleton plot line of the book Walking Naked, by Alyssa Brugman, but not enough for it to be totally significant (because I completely changed the ending, and fiddled with a lot of it, to try and make it my own). Wasn’t sure whether or not to mention that, so I decided to anyway. And, of course, JK Rowling owns the world it is set in, and all but the OCs. Who are mine.


Chapter 1: L.O.V.E and Iola are very different things.

I am waiting in the Dormitory. No one else is around. There are five beds, but I am the only one here. I pace up and down, biting my lip. I know there are first year Gryffindor girls, I saw them be sorted, but where are they? I was alone on the train, too scared to talk to the others in the carriage, alone at the feast, too scared to talk to the people around me, and now I am alone in the Dorm �“ too scared to go and look for the others. Am I doomed to spend my years at Hogwarts alone? But suddenly, the door opens, and a gaggle of giggling girls come through. I sigh in relief.

I am Lily Evans, and I am a witch. I just thought I’d get that part out straight away �“ it’s pretty important. It is my first day at Hogwarts, and I am completely overwhelmed. But at least the girls coming through the door seem friendly.

First comes a confident looking girl, with blonde hair, and blue eyes. Her hair is entwined with flowers. I smile at this.

“Hi! I’m Eve Chase,” she says, extending her hand. I smile, and stammer my name, taking her hand and shaking it. “This is Valerie, um, Harris?,” she points at a tall girl with dark hair, and quite dark skin, that has a bronzed effect to it. The girl nods in confirmation. Her eyes are very dark too. “And Ophelia ... Summers. It is Summers, right?” a small girl, with mousy brown hair waves at me, and nods too. Wiry is the word that comes to mind when I see her.

“Hello. Lily Evans. Uh, like I said. So, um, should we pick our beds?”

“Too late!” Valerie calls, already lounging out on the bed furthest from the door. We laugh.

“Well, this is mine!” Eve claims, jumping on the one next to it. Ophelia and I look at each other uncertainly.

“You choose,” I mutter. She shrugs and picks a bed. There are two left. “Do you think someone got lost?” I ask.

“They must be pretty stupid if they did,” Valerie chuckles, “There’s a massive sign on the door.”

“If they were late, they get last choice,” Eve points out, shrugging. Ophelia nods at this. She still hasn’t said anything.

I pick up my trunk and place it next to the bed further from the door out of the two. This seems to be the trend. I sit down uncertainly. The door bangs open and it makes me jump.

A girl with long, glossy black hair enters, laughing and dragging a trunk of her own. “The most funny thing just happened!” she gasps. “My cousin, James, he tried to get up the girls staircase, and it turned into a slide! The look on his face! He was terrified! I already love this place, don’t you?”

We stare at her. She seems so at ease, and I am slightly in awe of her. “What’s your name?” Eve asks, bluntly.

“Iola Potter. At your service. Hey, you guys nicked the best beds!”

“We weren’t sure if you existed or not,” Valerie tells her.

“Oh. Well, um, I seem to,” she says, laughing. I smile at her. Mum always says that people who don’t smile give off bad vibes. She smiles at everybody in the street, and it’s rubbed off on me. Not my sister though, Petunia. She glares. We get on okay, but since I was admitted to Hogwarts, and I found out I was a witch, she’s got ... scared of me. Which is odd, because she’s actually older by a year and a half.

Mum and Dad were so happy, though, that they bought me a cat. She’s a tiny, fluffy little grey kitten, with stripes. I called her Missy, and I love her. She seems a bit bonkers, though.

As I remember her, I jump, and open the cat carrier on the floor. She meows indignantly, and I cringe. I had let her out on the train, just for something to do, but she must have been stuck in that carrier all through the feast. I pick her up, and squeeze her to say sorry.

Ophelia gasps, “You have a cat? She’s so adorable!” These are the first words she has spoken.

“Who wants a cat?” Valerie says to herself, “Owls are so much more useful. That’s what all my brothers say.”

“How many brothers do you have?” Eve asks.

“Three. Two older, one younger. They’re in third and fifth year. They’re both on the Quidditch team, and I will be too.” She gets a dreamy look on her eyes.

“First years aren’t allowed brooms,” Iola says, pointedly.

Valerie sits up, fast. “I’m not stupid! I meant next year! I’m a Chaser, you see. They have two Chasers in seventh year, Howard told me, so next year they’ll have two places, and one is going to be mine.”

“Well in that case, my cousin, James, will play alongside you,” Iola says.

“Um,” I pipe up, getting their attention, “What are you guys talking about?”

“Quidditch,” says Valerie, as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

“Valerie, she must be Muggle-Born,” Eve points out, sounding sorry for me.

“Is that a bad thing?” I ask, my eyes round.

“Of course not,” Ophelia tells me gently. “It just means you’re not as used to the magical world as us. Although, I’m only half-blood. But my Mum and my sister Olivia have told me all about this place. Although, it was mainly Mum. Olivia was pretty busy ...”

“What’s your other sister called? Octavia?” asks, Iola, a note of sarcasm in her voice.

“I don’t have another sister,” Ophelia tells her, missing the sarcasm. “Anyway, Olivia is really busy a lot of the time. She’s so much prettier than me. So much better at everything.”

I detect that Ophelia feels quite oppressed by her older sister. “But,” I say, trying to get back to the point, “what’s Quidditch meant to be?”

“It’s a sport,” I am told by Eve. “On broomsticks.”

“Wow,” I breath. I probably wouldn’t be any good at it, though. Physical activity is really not my thing. “So, if Valerie plans to be on this Quidditch team, what do the rest of you want to do here?” I ask.

“I want to date as many boys as possible,” Eve says, laughing. I doubt she will have a problem achieving this goal.

“I want to show Olivia that I’m just as good as her,” Ophelia says, defiantly. Oh yes, she is most definitely oppressed.

“I don’t have a plan,” Iola says, “But I would like to team up with James and cause mayhem!”

“What good will that do?” asks Eve, scornfully.

“It will do me the world of good,” Iola mutters.

“What about you, Lily?” Ophelia asks.

I shrug, “I guess I want to learn as much as possible about this world.”

“Well, in that case, do you mind if we all copy you?” Valerie asks, and I am unsure whether she is joking or not.

“You know what would be so awesome?” asks Ophelia excitedly.

“If you could make chocolate into a gas form and then sniff it up like a drug?” asks Iola sarcastically. She is mostly ignored.

“If we all formed, like, a girl group ... an elite, sort of ... club,” Ophelia says, a misty look in her eyes.

“That’s a great idea!” Eve squeals. “What should we be called?”

“How about ... how about L.O.V.I.E?” I ask. I am instantly proud of this idea.

“Why?” asks Valerie incredulously.

“Because our first initials spell it. Lovie. L.O.V.I.E. Do you see?”

“You’re right!” Eve cries, clapping her hands together. “That’s so smart!”

Iola snorts. “Why would I want to be part of some stupid little girly club?”

“L.O.V.E sounds so much better anyway,” Eve says, almost too quickly. “Are you in, Val?”

“Only if you never call me ‘Val’ again,” she says. We all agree to this request. I am a little scared of this girl already.

“Are you sure, Iola?” I ask. I don’t want her to feel left out.

“Of course I’m sure!” she scoffs.

And so, L.O.V.E is formed.

*~*~*

It’s now sixth year, and things haven’t changed much. Valerie really did get on the Quidditch team. She’s so athletic that she gets up really early each morning to jog round the lake. Eve really did date as many boys and possible �“ in fact, she’s still doing just that. She also continues to entwine flowers in her hair every day. The Professors had a problem with this ... frivolity, at first, but when she kept doing it, they eventually learned to ignore it. Ophelia ... well, she tried to prove that she was as good as her sister, but never really got there. She gets up early too, to claim the bathroom and go through an extremely long beauty regime. She comes out of it looking, if not pretty, then attractive. Anyway, now that Olivia has left to be Minister of Magic, or something just as brilliant, Ophelia is coming out of her shell more.

And Iola really did team up with James to cause as much mayhem as possible. As well as their friends Sirius, Remus and Peter. The four boys call themselves the Marauders, and she hangs around them most of the time. I guess they’re our equivalent, just male. In fact, when I think about it, they are. Eve is like Sirius Black �“ he’s gorgeous, even if I don’t like him that way. I mean, I’m not blind. Valerie would be like James Potter, I think. Good looking, although not as much as Eve or Sirius, and very sporty. Ophelia would be more like Peter Pettigrew �“ small, and quiet, and shadowed. Which means I must be like Remus Lupin �“ academic, and sensible. Not traditionally good looking maybe, but not hideous.

You know, we did try and include Iola for a while, but really, when all you get back is sarcastic comments, you eventually get the message. So now we just ignore each other. Most of the time. There’s still the occasional remark from both parties, but that’s all. Nothing nasty. And anyway, it’s not like she doesn’t have any friends �“ like I said, she’s perfectly fine with spending time with the Marauders. And even if we did think it was weird that she only ever hangs round with boys, has never had a girl friend in all her time here �“ which we don’t. Think that, I mean �“ it’s not like she would care. And it’s not like we care when she says we’re just some superficial girls, who need to pull our heads out of our �“

Well, we don’t care what she says.

That’s weird, I was just thinking about Iola, and Professor McGonagall asked her a question �“ we’re sitting in Transfiguration right now, and it’s boring. Wait, that wasn’t a question �“ that was a telling off.

“You may excel in this class, Miss Potter, but I would prefer it if you did not pass notes to Mr Potter while I am speaking!” Oh yes, I forget to mention that Iola is a genius. It must be a family trait, because James is very smart too. And Sirius, but I don’t think they’re related. That’s just coincidence. As well as the fact that all three of them seem to be able to pass every class with high marks, without any effort. “Why can you not use your talents, and listen to what I am saying? You may learn even more, you may be able to use your ability constructively! Rather than on silly pranks, and gallivanting about with Hogwarts’ most troublesome foursome.” Sirius whoops at what he probably took as a compliment. The class sniggers. Except for us, since we can see past their immaturity.

“In short,” Iola says, sarcastically, “why can I not use my power for good, rather than evil?”

James laughs, and McGonagall frowns. “Detention tonight, Miss Potter, eight o’clock sharp.”

Ophelia, who is next to me, leans over and whispers, “She is such a freak sometimes.”

“I know,” I whisper back, “Why can’t she just be normal?” Unfortunately, Professor McGonagall has heard whispering, and looks up to see me leaning towards Ophelia.

“And you can join her, Miss Evans! Now, no one is to say another word!”

What? Me? Detention with Iola? How did that happen? I never get detention! James and Sirius turn in their seats and smirk at me. But they say nothing. Professor McGonagall has moved on, but I am still in shock.

Ophelia! I write on some parchment, Why didn’t you tell her it was you too?

She ignores the note, and is listening intently. Valerie shrugs at me, sympathetically. Eve mouths “Tough luck,” at me, also looking sorry for me. I have no way out.

Great.

*~*~*

AN: Well, how do you like it so far? If Lily seems a little OOC I’m trying to get away from how she is traditionally portrayed. You know, contradicting the statements “She is perfect in almost every way” and “She has amazing friends”. Not that I mind those fics �“ I enjoy them as much as the next Lily Evans/Marauder-era lover, but I’m trying to do something different this time. But she does still have some aspects �“ ie: she’s still booky. That’s why I love writing Marauder era so much ... the characters are already there, but there’s still so much room for experimenting. Anyway, thanks for reading, and please leave a review. The plot starts moving forward pretty quickly, and my beta for this fic ForbiddenLove (hi!) and little brother CheeseKing both say it’s good ...

Chapter 2: More About Me (And A Little About Iola)

It is my detention with Iola in a few minutes, and I am being swamped with advice on how to handle it if anything goes wrong, as we sit in the Common Room finishing off essays. Missy is sitting contentedly on my lap, chewing a quill. She’s so sweet.

“If she says something weird, just ignore her,” I am told by Eve.

“Unless you think of something good to say back,” Ophelia adds.

“Or just whack her one,” Valerie says, as if this would be a perfectly acceptable thing to do while I’m in detention.

“And be careful of any ... suspicious behaviour,” Eve tells me, seemingly ignoring the other two.

“Everything she does is suspicious,” Ophelia scoffs. “One time, I walked in the door, and she was hanging teddy bears by their necks, all around her bed. When she saw me, she said something weird, like wagga shmacka doodle.”

This is probably completely untrue. But it makes us shiver all the same. Except for Valerie, who is more than a little sceptic.

“Whatever, ferret-face.” This is the kind of comment that I don’t like about Valerie. She knows how paranoid Ophelia gets about her looks (I blame the sister), and I see her eyes look hurt. But Valerie hasn’t noticed. “Hey, Lily, you couldn’t check over this Potions essay for me, could you? Old Slughorn is constantly on my back these days, I don’t want him to go all�“” she pulls an insane psychopath face, “�“on me.” The reason Professor Slughorn is always ‘on her back’, is because she spends entire lessons talking to Eve, and only occasionally glances at the instructions on the black board. He’s nice to me, though. I’m even in his ‘Slug club’, because I’m quite good at Potions. That and Charms are my best subjects. I check the essay over anyway, and point out a couple of mistakes. Suddenly, I look up and see the time.

“Oh, shoot, I’ve gotta go. See you guys later. If I’m not back after eleven don’t wait up for me �“ I don’t know how long this will take.” I pick Missy up and place her on the ground so she can go mouse hunting or something. “Don’t pick a fight with Mrs Norris, okay, Missy?” I warn her, stroking her adorable little head. She looks up at me innocently, but I haven’t forgotten how she nearly lost an eye a week ago. With that final request, I begin to run out of the Common Room.

“Keep on your toes!” I hear Ophelia call after me. I run down towards the Transfiguration corridor, and bump into Iola on the way, who is ambling slowly. Something makes me stop and walk with her.

“We’ll be late,” I say, checking my watch.

“So? It’ll be funny. You go ahead and run forward if you like, but you seem pretty tired out,” she says, still meandering slowly along. “Not been working out lately?” I ignore her, but something makes me stay with her. I tell myself it’s not her, or the need to wind teachers up. I’m just out of breath, that’s all.

She has long, sleek black hair. Unlike her cousin’s, it knows how to stay still �“ his is always untidy, and he likes it that way �“ and she has grey-ish green eyes, which she rims heavily with black. I know that she is an amazing sketcher, because she pins up her drawings all around her section of the Dorm. They are mostly of flowers, but unlike the ones Eve is known for, these are dark, and almost tragic. She also draws them to decorate poetry she writes and pins up. If there’s no one about, I go over and read it. It’s mostly pretty depressing stuff, about unrequited love of a boy with grey eyes and a wicked grin that’s never for her. I always thought she made this person up, but now, as we walk in silence, I wonder if it could be about someone real. I’m curious, but not enough to ask. Not that I would if I was curious enough. That would be unheard of, and I’d only get a bitter remark for my troubles.

We reach McGonagall’s classroom ten minutes late. She looks angry.

“Sorry Professor,” I say and Iola rolls her eyes next to me. Yeesh. I’m so sorry that I don’t fancy two detentions in a row.

“That’s all right, Evans. Now, you are serving your detention with Hagrid in the forest today, he said he needed assistance, and I had no task to give you. Follow me down to the edge, if you please.”

Iola looks delighted. I look terrified, I’m sure. Hagrid is the game keeper, and he’s huge, and hairy. Ophelia once told me that he eats kittens. But Ophelia tells me lots of things, and I rarely believe them. Like her comment about Iola hanging teddies earlier. She does it for attention, really. But it’s not her fault �“ like I’ve said, she’s always been shadowed by her sister. But anyway, even though I know that Hagrid is probably harmless, he still scares me sometimes. But I know that Iola likes him �“ I’ve even seen her go into his house before.

We reach the edge of the forest, and he is waiting for us. “Yer late,” he says gruffly. His eyes crinkle with a smile when he sees Iola. “’Ello! Oh, I shoulda known it wa’ you.” He looks a lot less terrifying when he’s smiling.

“What do we need to go into the forest for, Hagrid?” she asks. McGonagall frowns at the good terms these two are on, probably regretting her choice. Then take it back! I mentally scream at her, but she doesn’t notice. Obviously. I mean, if she could hear my thoughts it would just prove all the she’s-more-than-human theories that my tragic, deprived mind thinks up to while away those long Transfiguration hours.

“Well,” Hagrid begins, “there’s this centaur, see, an’ ’e’s bein’ a bit of a bother ter the others. Bullying ’em an’ that. Yer don’t usually get violent ones, but ... Well, I need ter tek him away from the heard fer a while. An’ I can always use a helping hand.”

“But why go in the dark, Hagrid?” Iola asks, as we walk into the forest. McGonagall leaves us, despite my technically non-existent protests. Iola seems perfectly at ease with the surroundings, her question out of curiosity rather than fear. She has most likely been in here before. The word “Forbidden” probably means nothing to her and the Marauders. I have stopped listening to their conversation. Instead, panic has gripped me. So much so, that I am white, and my hands are shaking. Centaurs are half horse. Horses are bad enough. But violent horses ...

When I was little, about six, I used to ride all the time. But one day, something startled my beloved Trix, and she threw me forward, over her head onto the ground, and then leaped over the top of me, and galloped away. I was lucky not to break my neck. Instead, it was my left arm and leg, and they took weeks to heal. I shouldn’t have let it faze me; I should have got straight back on her as soon as I was able. But I kept seeing her leap over the top of me in my mind, hearing her gallop away and leaving me there. And my fear grew and grew until now the sound of hooves can set my heart beating faster, and if I see one I ball my fists up until the nails nearly draw blood. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, ‘But you’re in Gryffindor, you should be brave, and heroic, and valiant, and some kind of Super Girl without fear!’ Well, maybe that’s true, maybe I am a bad Gryffindor, and really, I should be made of some kind of impenetrable steel. Maybe I should just grit my teeth, stop being such a sissy, and laugh in the face of my fear. But this is the real world, and we all have weaknesses.

I mean, I am brave, normally. I find spiders sweet, think bats are pretty cool, and I feel more comfortable in pitch black. Missy’s claws don’t terrify me, I don’t mind getting my hand’s dirty, and I can hold my own in an argument. But the horse thing? I just can’t do it. It’s not as if I have nightmares about them or anything, I just can’t be near one without freaking out.

But enough trying to justify myself. I follow Hagrid and Iola, getting more worried by the second, my ears straining to hear the sound that I’m so desperately afraid of. Then, suddenly, after half an hour of walking, it’s there. I hear it before they do, but as it gets louder they both stop. There is a yell as well, and it sounds as if there is fighting.

“Oh, I ‘oped this wouldn’t happen ...” Hagrid moaned, as he begins to run. Iola is at his side, and I have no choice but to follow. We turn a corner into a clearing. Two are fighting there. One is large, a black body with dark hair that sets my heart drumming through my chest, and with a large torso with scars all over it. This is the violent one, I’m sure. The other has a pale, creamy body, it is smaller, and weaker. “OI!” Hagrid yells, to no avail. I step back, I cannot keep my eyes off the two creatures. I am shaking violently. “STOP!” Hagrid yells, pulling on the big black one. He holds him off long enough for the other to get a safe distance, and Iola goes over to him, checking him for wounds.

I should be there with her, helping, not standing here uselessly. I watch as Hagrid loses his grip on the violent black centaur, and it comes galloping towards me. I see his face; angry, furious, and I scream. I hear them yelling at me to move out of the way, but I can do nothing. He runs into me, but I land on some long grasses, and I know I am not hurt.

“Make sure Hallead’s okay, and go back ter the castle!” Hagrid cries, as he tears away after him. Hallead must be the creamy coloured one.

“Are you all right?” Iola asks, coming over to me, and extending a hand. I take it, still shaking.

“Yes. I ... I don’t like horses,” I say, lamely. She raises an eyebrow.

“We,” the centaur says, affronted, “are not horses.”

“She knows that,” Iola covers for me quickly, turning to look at him. “Are you seriously hurt?” she asks.

He sighs, “Only my pride. I should have foreseen this ...”

Iola makes a noise of contempt. Obviously, she is not a strong believer in Divination. Neither am I. The fact that we have this in common feels strange, considering we are so different. “Yes, well, do you mind if we leave you?”

“Not at all, my friends. I ... I suppose you should thank Hagrid, when you see him.” With that, he turns and blends back into the forest. The sound of his hooves makes me start shaking again. Iola notices this.

“You really don’t like them do you?” she asks. As we begin to walk, I feel the need to explain. I find myself telling her about my fall, ten years ago. She listens. Eventually, she says, “But they’re not all bad. Like Hallead back there. He may be a bit of a pretentious sissy-girl, but he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I know that. And it was an accident then �“ Trix, my horse, she was never violent. Something startled her, that’s all. In fact, she came back. She came back and stood near me until I was found. At least, that’s what I’m told. I passed out after a minute or two.”

“Yet you’ve been terrified ever since?”

“It’s stupid, I know.”

She looks up at me with her heavily rimmed eyes. “It’s not stupid, Lily.” It sounds weird to hear her say my name like that. She has always been the weirdo, but now ... now, she seems so normal.

Thrown, I ask, “So what are you afraid of?”

“Me?” Her face clouds, and she says, quietly, “Going home.”

I stop in my tracks. Going home? I hadn’t been expecting that. I quickly begin to carry on forwards towards the castle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. Let’s just get back.”

I wonder what happened �“ just a moment ago, things had been fine. We had been walking along and chatting, as if ... as if we were friends. But we’re not. We never have been, Lily, you know that. Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand. The voice sounds like my mother. She always tells me not to meddle. I always ignore her. Why should now be different?

As we reach the castle, and make our way towards Gryffindor Tower, I wonder how I can find out what’s so bad about her home life. If I knew, I could help. Who would know?

James. James would know. Do I really want to know so much, that I will willingly speak to him? We, uh, have a bad history, you see. I didn’t date him or anything �“ Merlin, no �“ but ... Well, that’s for another time. The answer to my own question, however, is yes. In that case, tomorrow I will go and find him. I can do it.

Just as we are about to enter the Dorm, I say, quickly, without even thinking about it, “I like your poems.”

She looks at me, and smiles the briefest smile.

AN: So, what did you think? Please leave a review! This fic is soon littered with minor cliffies at the end of a lot of chapters (I’ve completed seven, because I write a lot faster than it’s possible to update). So, be warned!

AN: This one's dedicated to my best friend Chomione, because it was her birthday recently. Extra pressie!



*~*~*



Chapter 3: The eternal annoyance that is James Potter



James Potter. James Bloody Potter (If that’s not his full name, I will be terribly surprised). Yesterday the idea of approaching him about Iola’s history seemed ... tolerable. But now, in the harsh light of day, so to speak, it seems laughable.



Yesterday, I said we have a bad history. Today, I say we have a terrible, horrific, awful, shocking, dire, dreadful, ghastly, appalling history. And any other word you can find for “bad” in a thesaurus.



Yesterday, I was stupid. Today, I am insane.



And yet, yesterday I was determined. And no amount of light, however harsh it may be, is going to change that. So here I am, walking up to him. I have followed him like a stalker since breakfast (it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, I gave up time with my friends for this little project. That’s how dedicated I have been), waiting for the chance to get him on his own �“ it’s proved dreadfully hard, I can tell you. From arriving in Hogsmeade, the Marauders and Iola have gone to the bookstore, where Iola left them. This was good, because it meant she wouldn’t be around to witness the Spanish Inquisition of her cousin. The sight of the bookshop, with its comforting, musty books, its pleasant silence, its lack of James Potter, nearly made me give in and follow her, so I could fondle �“ um, read �“ some books for a while in the secluded corner I like. I know the owner, he doesn’t mind. But then I remembered my mission, and reluctantly followed the four boys away.



After their stop to drop off Iola, they went to a café, and came back out again with boxes of cream �“ which turned out to be extra thick. I don’t know whether they stole these from the kitchens, or actually paid for them. Then they found Snape outside a Potions shop, and poured half of it all over him. I almost went over from my inconspicuous distance to instil some Prefect-y goodness on them, but managed to restrain myself. Honestly, they can never get any new ideas, can they? It’s always “Pour some goo on him” one day, and “Pour a bit more goo on him” the next. No imagination.



They then ran away to some little back alley �“ I would have lost them, except that Peter is quite slow. He needs to watch his calorie intake, if you know what I mean. I looked around the corner, to see what they were doing, and Sirius was standing there drinking the cream straight out of the box, while the others stood around chanting at him to “chug”. He threw the empty one on the ground and began another. There were still three left, and it didn’t look as if he was going give in. I stood in horrified silence at the pure ... boy-ness of it all, before getting out of sight, and waiting for them to move onto the next place.



After the little cream-chugging contest, they went to Zonko’s for half an hour. During this time, I waited outside and pondered my history with the notorious James Potter.



I call him James in my head, the same with Iola, because if they were both merely “Potter”, things would be very confusing. But when I speak to him, I only ever use his last name. And, well, I don’t really know how I would address Iola, since I rarely speak to her �“ until last night, of course. But like I said, out loud, it’s always Potter to him, just like I’m always Evans. People don’t get this. Everybody calls the Marauders by their first names �“ it’s just what you do. Same with L.O.V.E. We’re known by our first names. Like we’re a band or something �“ only the obsessive fans know the surnames of each and every member.



But there is a very good reason for our over-formal attitude, and it began in third year. See, there was a bet. Everybody knew about it. Everybody. Ooh, that bet. It makes me shake with anger just thinking about it. Each Marauder had to get a date with one of the L.O.V.E girls. Maybe, if they had kept it to themselves, it would have worked �“ at least, for some of us. Sirius’s target was Eve. Remus’s was Valerie. Poor Ophelia ended up with Peter. James, as you probably guessed through process of elimination, had to try and get a date with me.



The more they persisted, the more we refused. The others all seemed to be in it for a joke, they were always looking round to see who was watching, before making a move. But James, I think, was serious �“ when he asked me, he was totally sincere. But I refused him, knowing all too well of the bet, and it went on and on, even when the others had given up. By last year, our fifth, I even heard Sirius say, “Okay, Prongs, leave her alone now. I don’t think she’s going to go out with you.” (This was around the time when they started giving each other weird nicknames that I could never figure out �“ still can’t, in fact.)



His methods really were completely horrendous, since they also enjoyed using me as a guinea pig for pranks that they later tried on Snape �“ and they knew I wholly disagreed with both of these things. I tell you, despite my new status as Prefect (I relished in all the responsibility �“ my counterpart, Remus, was a little lax, especially where his friends were concerned) last year was no fun at all. Eventually there was a big blow up by the lake, and everybody yelled a lot, especially me.



This year, thankfully, things have quietened down somewhat. All that is left is a mutual dislike of each other. I’m sure it doesn’t help that I keep reporting them for all their mistreatment of others, but really, they shouldn’t go about thinking they own peoples souls, just because they can occasionally be moderately humorous.



So. That’s our history. Maybe it doesn’t sound as bad as I said earlier (remember all the synonyms?), but trust me, if you had experienced it, you wouldn’t like him much either.



So I was thinking about all this when the Marauders came back out of Zonko’s and headed towards the Three Broomsticks. Luckily for me, James told the others to go and sit down while he got the drinks. And now, I am walking up to him, about to confront him. I should never have thought so much about how much I hate him.



“Potter? Can I ask you something?”



He looks taken aback. “Is this why you’ve been following us around all day? So you can ask me a question?” D A M N.



“Uh, kinda.” That’s it Lily, get straight to the point. You’re real smooth. I tell the annoying voice to shut up �“ not out loud of course. He just busted me stalking him, I don’t want him to think I talk to myself as well.



“Well, what is it? Don’t you have your little V.E.O.L club to be getting back to?” He knows perfectly well that we are called L.O.V.E, but I won’t take the bait, not when I have a mission. Although, I should be going to find them pretty soon, I said it would take a couple of hours �“ I didn’t tell them what I had to do, just said I had an errand, but whatever.



“I was just ... Look, I was talking to Iola yesterday, and I got the impression that she ... she was unhappy at home, or something. I wanted to help, but she clammed up, and I thought you might know.”



First he looks surprised. I am expecting that �“ I’d be surprised, if I was him. But now he looks angry.



“Keep your snub little nose out, Evans. You go poking it into Iola’s life, and you’ll only get hurt. I might not mind that, but she will too �“ and then I’d have to hurt you even more!”



“Excuse me?” I am shocked. “Are you threatening me?”



“Yes, I bloody well am! Don’t go meddling in my family’s business!”



“I’m not meddling! I want to help her!”



“Since when did you and your silly friends want to help anyone but yourselves? You’re pathetic! I know all about you four, Iola’s told me that you’re all so troubled. Your sister’s dating a prat, well boo-hoo! You’re sister’s better than you at everything, well get your own life and stop fretting about hers! You grew up with three brothers, you had to learn to defend yourself or you’d be trampled, well that’s life, sometimes it is dog eat dog �“ and what, you don’t have parents to defend their only daughter? Or maybe you can’t stay with one boy for very long, you have issues with long term relationships, well for Merlin’s sake, you’re sixteen or seventeen, no one expects you to be getting married! Oh yes, you’re all right little tortured souls, aren’t you? None have you have ever experienced real pain, not like she�“” he cuts himself off. I am deeply offended by his little speech. And furious at Iola for going around telling James about the troubles we talk about deep into the night when we’re all feeling profound. But I still want to know what’s so horrific about Iola’s life that’s got him reacting like this.



“What? What real pain has she been through?”



“I told you not to meddle with that! If you play with fire, you’ll only get burnt �“ and so will other people on the way. I won’t have you burning my cousin because you’re too prying to keep your nose where it belongs!” He’s completely shocked me again. Why does he think he can just say these things to people? I mean, burns? What is he talking about? I think he’s missing the point.



“I don’t want to burn her, I want �“”



“I don’t care what you want, Evans, but if you really don’t want her getting hurt, then stay away! Stick to what you know �“ Just go back to your little friends, and forget it’s ever happened. That way, we’ll all be a lot happier.”



“But she’s not happy, she �“”



“If she’s not happy, she can come to me, and she knows that! She doesn’t need you to help her, just so you can feel better about yourself!”



“That’s not why ... Look, maybe she needs a girl friend to talk to ...”



“Oh, and so you can comfort her by braiding her hair or something? She doesn’t need your help, Evans. Now leave us alone, okay? Do you hear me? Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand!”



With this final statement, he leaves, muttering something about not being able to believe he ever actually liked me. Shamefully, I feel tears prick in the corners of my eyes. Damn James Potter with his new found morals, and his stupid fire analogies. I turn and stalk out of the bar. I realise only now that everyone had been watching us argue. In my fury, I bump into my friends, but they seem glad to see me.



“Lily! We’re on our way to the dress shop, are you done with your errand? Come and help us browse through the pretty gowns, hmm?” suggests Eve, slipping her arm through mine so we are linked. I smile.



We spend half an hour trying different ones on, and I feel a little cheered up by the end of it. I am in the changing room, getting out of a frilly green number that I had detested, although Ophelia had insisted would bring out the colour in my eyes. It made me look like a grotesque reptile, so I am glad to be getting out of it.



“We’re going to head over to The Three Broomsticks, Lily. Come meet us in there in a minute, okay?” I want them to stay, and don’t really want to head back there so soon, but I decide that the Marauders will have moved on by now, and agree. As I leave the shop, and head towards the bar, I bump into someone for the second time today. This time, it is Iola.



“I was just coming to find you,” she says, coolly.



*~*~*



AN: Oooh, semi-cliffie ... This fic will have 15 chapters, methinks, and they all have *hopefully* interesting titles (For example, the next is called “How to fish, if you want to end up wet”). Please leave a review, thank you!

As I leave the shop, and head towards the pub, I bump into someone for the second time today. This time, it is Iola.

“I was just coming to find you,” she says, coolly.


Chapter 4: How to fish, if you want to end up wet

What?? Why?? James told her, didn’t he? Bloody hell, I’ll kill him. Oh, he’ll be sorry that he ever crossed paths with Lily Evans, mark my words! But how can I inflict juicy, juicy revenge? It needs to be painful ... Oh yes, it will be painful, I can tell you! And humiliating, and cruel. He’ll sob his little heart out, and in front of the whole school, too! I can hear him now ... “Oh, Evans, I’m so sorry, I should never have been such a brainless, arrogant fool! I will become your loyal man-slave, in the hope that I can at least make up for some of the terrible things I’ve done, O Great One!” He will cry, bowing down to my perfectly pedicured feet, which will be wrapped in the latest designer heels. And then I, who will also be looking fiendishly beautiful, will cackle evilly, and �“

“What are you laughing at?” Iola asks. I almost exclaim an 'S' word that would have my mother sending me to my room, and crying over my forever lost innocence (Hint �“ it’s not sugarplum), but I restrain myself. I should really learn to control my fantasies, and not act parts out loud without noticing, but right now, I am trying to think of an excuse as to why I might be randomly laughing at the statement “I was just coming to find you.”

“I ... Well ... I have no idea. I’m sorry. Why, uh ... What do you want with me?” Okay, that last part sounded weird. In fact, all of it did. Why don’t I just shoot myself, and save everybody a whole lot of confusion and misery?

“I spoke to James,” she says. Oh, I bet you did. Tell you all about how I stalked him for information on your home life, did he? Come to tell me to keep my “snub little nose” out too, have you?

I am too busy silently ranting to myself to think of something intelligent to say, so I stammer, “Y-You did? Uh ...”

“Yeah. I’m sorry he acted like that on my behalf. He gets a little protective of me, you see.” Yeesh. It’s not like they’re going out. Although, they would be perfect for each other, if they were. Apart from that whole, first-cousin thing. Why do I think these things, and succeed in creeping myself out? It’s a good job that I rarely say what I’m thinking, or I would have no friends at all �“ unless they too, thought like a stupid person and decided to say the first thing that came into their heads, no matter how creepy and wrong that thought was.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter,” I shrug, doing it again and saying something completely different from what I’m thinking.

“No, it does,” she insists. We had been randomly standing in the street, and getting in the way off a lot of poor, innocent shoppers, who really didn’t need to have to walk all the way around two girls. So instead, we begin to walk. Iola carries on speaking. “I mean, you were just being nice, asking how I was, since I seemed upset yesterday, and then he goes and blows up in your face. I’m really sorry.”

Good grief. Clearly, James Potter has just told the biggest lie since I myself said, quite sweetly to Petunia, “Why yes, sister dearest, that salmon pink does compliment your delicate complexion!” And let me tell you, that was a big lie on so many levels. Just like the one James appears to have told his cousin.

“He said that?" I ask, shocked. "That I was only asking how you were?”

“Sure he did. Why, was he not telling the truth?” Oh, doom. Why don’t I just keep digging myself into this nice, comfy little hole of mine? Maybe I’ll end up in Australia sometime soon.

“Well, I ... I thought he might twist it, you know, to make me look bad or something,” I say. It’s a good job I can lie convincingly (If you need proof, Petunia bought the dress, because of my ‘little’ white lie, and I had great amounts of pleasure watching everybody’s faces as she paraded it up and down ... She even went so far as to make salmon pink her “signature colour”, something which really is hilarious).

“No, James isn’t like that,” Iola says, “I don’t remember him ever lying to me �“ not a really big lie.” Ha! She is clearly deluded. I almost feel sorry for the poor girl. Imagine having that as a cousin and seemingly best friend? Although, I know that she does get on with the other three, but I guess she must have known James her whole life. The poor, poor thing. We reach the Shrieking Shack, and sit together for a while, looking up at it. It's exhilarating to be so close to the place that people swear is haunted. The silence isn't uncomfortable, either �“ we’re both happy to sit and think in each other’s company.

I can’t work out why James would twist what would have been an excellent opportunity to try and tarnish my reputation? In fact, by telling Iola that I was only enquiring how she was, makes me look good, and him look like a lunatic who over reacts about nothing. He wasn’t doing it to protect me �“ I think I just managed to ruin his perception of me forever (not that I care what he thinks of me. I stopped caring what any Marauder thought of me around the time they started asking us out). But Iola isn’t a Marauder, and whatever the reason is that James lied to her, I’m glad he did �“ because now, she doesn’t hate me. Or think I’m a nosy, meddling cow.

Unless ... Well, what if he was doing it, not to protect me, but to protect her? What if something about her home, or her family, is so bad, that he doesn’t even want to bring it up, and make her think about it? I hadn’t thought of that ... But what could be so bad? I guess James would know, but I can't ask him, as we all know how well that turned out last time.

Thinking yourself round in circles won’t solve anything. Change the subject, Lily, think about something else. Think about Iola. Stupid commanding voices ... Why are they always right? Okay, let's think about Iola. I like her, I think. She doesn’t seem fake. And okay, we’ve had a total of two conversations, and they both ended in silence (although this is a lot less uncomfortable than the first), but everything starts somewhere, right? I can’t believe I’m even thinking these things. Iola has been the freak since those first few tender months of first year, where we in L.O.V.E tried to include her in things, and she was sarcastic about every little thing we did. And then one day Valerie said something nasty back, and there was this huge fight. What am I even doing here? I should be with my real friends, the ones I’ve had for the past six years, not with the girl we made our nemesis. Okay, this isn’t quite true �“ we just have this thing, where we make bitter comments at each other every now and again.

As soon as I think this, I begin to stand up, with the full intention of heading back to the Three Broomsticks with L.O.V.E. But as I stand, Iola joins me.

“Good idea. It was getting a little boring sitting there. Hey, you know what I’ve never done before?”

I might as well humour her, and hope I can get away quick enough. “What?”

“I’ve never been fishing in the lake,” she says. Is this her, hinting that we should do just that? Good grief, that’s completely mental. “Don’t look at me like that!” she laughs, “It will be fun!”

Fun? Fishing in the lake? She’s insane! She’s crazy! She’s absolutely, positively, demented. She’s also a freaking genius. “Well, what are we waiting for?” I grin, proving that I too, am all of those things I just mentioned. So we leave Hogsmeade to sit by the lake.

“Do you have any idea how to fish?” I ask, hopefully. She laughs, and I take it as a no. A promising start.

“I guess we need a couple of fishing rods, to begin with,” she says.

“Where do we get those from?” I ask. She looks as if I’m insane, and flicks her wand. Two fishing rods appear, ready and waiting for us to use. I guess that was pretty obvious, and now I feel stupid. Trying to sound like I might be of some use in this little endeavour, I say, “So, do we need bait? And then, to sort of, cast them or something?”

She nods, thoughtfully. “Well, I know where we can get bait from.” With that, she leaves me standing like the gormless idiot I am, as she heads off towards the forest.

“Um, Iola, the last time I went in there, I saw some centaurs and nearly had a heart attack. Now, you may be perfectly happy with ignoring the word “Forbidden” in the term “Forbidden Forest”, but really �“”

She stops, and turns to look at me incredulously. “I’m going to get some flobberworms from Hagrid.”

“Oh.” Why do I have the ability to be able to turn perfectly normal situations, into a scenario where I say something stupid, and everyone looks at me like I’m retarded? I may be smart academically, but really, when it comes to every day life, I’m a blabbering idiot. Stupid mouth. Why can’t it just stay closed?

She comes back a minute later with a box full of flobberworms. We begin to try and hook them onto the fishing rod, somewhat unsuccessfully. A thought occurs to me.

“Hey Iola, didn’t Hagrid want to know what you wanted some flobberworms for?” I ask her. I notice that already, she seems to be doing a lot better at me at this whole fishing business.

“Nope. He stopped asking questions as to why I need stuff off of him a long time ago. I think it’s in case he gets in trouble. Like the time I asked for a niffler, and then the next day the Slytherin Common Room was utterly rampaged, and all the shiny things mysteriously turned up in the Marauders’ trunks.” She smiles as she recalls this memory. “Anyway, his thinking is, if he doesn’t ask what I need something for, he can answer truthfully, when he is asked if he knew anything about whatever we may have done involving the thing he gave me, a day or two before.”

I try and follow this. She certainly has a way of speaking. “Why doesn’t he just refuse to give it to you, if you normally always end up causing mischief with it?”

“Well, life would be a lot less interesting if he did, wouldn’t it?” she laughs. As we have been talking, she has secured the bait on her own rod, and mine too, since I had given up. Those flobberworms are slimy. And also, really nauseating. She didn’t seem too fazed, though. “Do you know how to cast?” she asks me.

I think back to my Grandad, and when he took me fishing, aged eight. All I remember is sitting on the supply box, breathing in his smell of cigars, wearing a flat cap identical to his own, and him feeding me sweets as he talked a load of jargon that I didn’t understand. Think, Lily, think! What was he saying?

“Lily, if there was one thing I learned in my time as a soldier - apart from how to kill a man with only a yard of string - it’s that you should never trust a Jerry. Soon as you see one, throw a grenade and run. That’s all there is to it. You remember that, my girl, and you won’t go wrong.”

Dammit! He was talking about being in the war! Honestly, he could have had some consideration for my future self, and told me how to cast a fishing rod.

“No,” I sigh. “I haven’t got a clue.”

“Well, I guess we can make it up then, can’t we?” she says. She pulls the rod back, flicks it forward, and it lands perfectly.

I try and mimic her. But when I flick it forward, the wind blows it back again. I am so surprised, I fall over, getting more and more tangled as I try and get up again. After three more tries, I manage it, and settle down next to Iola.

Five minutes have gone by, and nothing has happened. But wait ... is my rod quivering? Yes! Lily Evans is Queen of the world! I’m so happy, that I loosen my grip, and the rod begins to be pulled into the water. I try and pull it back, but only succeed in being dragged with it. Into the water. I scream, letting go and trying to swim towards the ground. Iola is laughing, damn her, when suddenly, a furry grey blur jumps on top of her head. She falls in next to me, just as I am dragging myself out. I laugh too, when I realise that the blur was Missy.

Once she has dragged herself from the lake �“ which is freezing cold, I might add, for such nice weather �“ Iola looks around to see what her attacker was. She sees me, rolling around with Missy.

“Your cat is flipping mental!” she grumbles, but she’s smiling.

“Well, I don’t know why I ever agreed to go fishing in a lake that just so happens to contain a Giant Squid!” I grumble back, for I assume that is what got my line �“ what else would have the strength to pull me into the lake, like I was made of ... jelly, or something?

We lie down, to dry off in the sun, with Missy purring her way to sleep on my belly. As we lie in contented silence, I know that from this moment on, however much I tell myself that Iola isn’t my friend, that I should stay with L.O.V.E, I will always ignore the voice in my head. Which I do anyway, but this time, it definitely won’t win me over. We’re friends now. From now on, I will follow my heart, and not my brain.

Things are going to change.

Oh yes, things will change now.

AN: Ah, the beginning of a beautiful friendship ... Tell me what you think, and please leave a review!

Chapter 5: Quidditch, and all the mayhem it entails

For the past week, Iola and I have been spending most of our time together. I haven’t been with L.O.V.E outside of lessons. She hasn’t been with the Marauders.

The Marauders reaction to this went something along these lines, sometime on a Tuesday morning:

James: Hey, Iola, how come you don’t hang out with us anymore?
Iola: Because I can have other friends if I like, James.
James: No you can’t. They don’t like you as much as I do.
Sirius: What the flamingo? That’s just weird, mate.
Remus: Yeah, James, Iola is allowed other friends. And Lily’s ... uh ... she won’t get her into trouble.
James: That’s the point! How’s she going to get into trouble if she’s not with us?
Iola: I might want a break from trouble. Heard of exams, James? We may be blessed with outstanding intelligence, but I like to be sure.
James: Since when?
Iola: Since ... now. And anyway, I want to diversify my group of friends.
James: Fine, but �“ (he gestured wildly at me - as if to say “why her?”)
Me: Is there any chance I could cut in and defend myself?
Everyone-who-isn’t-me: No!
James: Why doesn’t she have her own friends?
Me: I do!
James: I wasn’t asking you!
Me: What’s your problem, anyway? Are you still mad at me about �“
James: (Getting rather red) That has nothing to do with this!
Iola: What?
Me-and-James: Nothing.
Iola: Did you guys accidentally make out or something? (Both me and James splutter and gag in disgust) Okay, well ... Whatever. The point is, you, James, are being very immature.
Sirius: I’m going to have to go with Iola on this one, I’m afraid.
Iola: Thank you, Sirius.
Remus: Yeah, me too. James, Iola can have other friends if she likes, and I think we can trust her to judge who they are. (Peter nods in agreement. James gets redder, and storms off. There is an awkward moment, before Sirius says, “Well, see you,” and scurries away, Remus and Peter following behind).

In case you care, the Marauders were all friends again pretty soon �“ by the next day they were torturing Snape like nothing had ever happened.

L.O.V.E didn’t really have much of a reaction. They came over to us, the first Lunchtime, and asked if I was coming, and when I said I was going to stay with Iola, they just sort of sniffed, shrugged, and walked off. So, it’s just been me and Iola, really. It’s actually been sort of nice. It wasn’t deliberate that it was only us, mind you. I did offer to Iola that we go eat lunch with the rest of L.O.V.E, but she point blank refused. And I did mention to Eve in Transfiguration that we’d got Iola wrong, and she was actually okay, but she didn’t care. Eventually I gave up, but I still want to unite us, that’s my main goal. I’ve just decided that it will take more time than I’d previously hoped. A bit of a setback, but nothing I can’t overcome.

I tried to go over to L.O.V.E one evening in the Common Room, but Eve looked up, and said, “No, Lily, really, you go with Iola. You two seem such good friends lately. We don’t mind, do we?”

And Valerie put on this slightly fake voice, and said, “Why no, Eve, of course we don’t.”

And then Ophelia opened her mouth, but closed it again pretty quickly, and shrugged. After this had happened a few times, I decided that if they wanted me to have fun with Iola instead, that’s what I would do.

Although, there has been one other person with us most of the time. Missy (why yes, I do count my cat as a person, what of it?) has taken to Iola and stalks us constantly. She never really liked the rest of L.O.V.E much. She’s even being nicer to me, and not shredding quite as many of my pillows lately. Which is good, because now I don’t have to spend quite so much time collecting feathers, and practising my stitching charm. Today, however, is a Quidditch match. THE Quidditch match, in fact, because it is the final, against Ravenclaw. As Iola is on the team �“ she’s a fine beater; she says it helps her release her violent energies �“ I intend on sitting with L.O.V.E the same as always. Well, Eve and Ophelia, since Valerie is on the team too. And they can’t object, because Iola is on the team.

It’s a good plan. They don’t mind that I’ve been with someone else lately. I mean, we’ve been friends for six years almost. They don’t care that I’ve made a new acquaintance �“ We’re sixteen, not ten. In fact, Eve and Valerie are seventeen. Yes, this could even be my chance to unite L.O.V.E and Iola once and for all. We could a united dorm ... Maybe we could even change to L.O.V.I.E like I first intended ... I can see it now. They’ll come round to the idea.


I’m such a natural born peacemaker, I almost feel holy. If I had been around in the war Grandad is always telling me about, they would have just sent me to pop round and have tea with Hitler. I would have smoothed the whole thing over, no problem. Sigh. Too bad I wasn’t around in Grandad’s prime. Woah, wouldn’t it be totally insane and wrong if I ended up as my own Grandmother...? No, Lily, don’t think that! For goodness sake, girl, what are you doing and why? Get back to the point, and stop thinking scary thoughts! Maybe I should listen to the stern voice in my mind, for once.

We are eating breakfast. Missy is on the table, drinking straight out of the large milk jug. Most people don’t mind, they find her cute, but some random fourth year boy is eyeing her evilly. The teachers were annoyed at her sudden over-attachment to me and Iola at first, but she buttered them up no problem �“ especially McGonagall, who was practically offering to adopt her from me by the end of Transfiguration. Not that I would leave her with that madwoman.

“So, you’ll be okay sitting with your old friends?” Iola checks again.

“Of course I will, we’ve gone over this. They’ll understand. I mean, they’re not crazy enough to just forget six years worth of friendship for nothing.”

“Lets hope so,” Iola mutters, reaching for another slice of toast.

This dark statement makes me slightly uncomfortable. I change the subject with, “Are you nervous about the match?”

“Nah. James and your friend Valerie make a good pair on the pitch, even if they don’t off it. And the fifth year we’ve got for a third Chaser is pretty good too. Me and Sirius can bludger any Ravenclaw who gets within a foot of the Quaffle.” Wait, since when was ‘Bludger’ a verb? Never mind, keep listening, Lily! “Amos, that seventh year, he’s a good keeper. And that third year Lorraine hasn’t failed us so far as a seeker, no matter how small she is. So no, I’m definitely not even a little nervous.”

“Then why are your hands shaking?”

“Because I’m terrified,” she says, laughing.

“Is that your cat?” the creepy fourth year boy asks me, finally deciding to speak, after staring evilly at Missy for ten minutes.

“Uh, yes. Is there a problem? Are you allergic or something?” I ask, sweetly. His frown deepens.

“Cats are evil,” he says, darkly. Uh ... Me and Iola glance at each other with raised eyebrows. Missy looks at him, purrs, then tries to rub herself up and down his body, reminding me of how she tries to sit on Petunia’s lap (because she knows she doesn’t like her). He screams and falls over backwards. Boy, he really doesn’t like cats. The whole school turns and looks at us. Me and Iola start to laugh, and it’s infectious. Soon, the whole school is laughing. Dumbledore stands.

“Mr Weatherly, is there a problem?”

The boy manages to grapple Missy off him, angrily. “This cat is evil!” he says, loudly. I take her off him, angrily, and he stalks out of the Great Hall.

Everyone is looking at me, a little oddly. “Uh, bad cat,” I say, unconvincingly. They go back to their breakfasts, cat-drama over. Ah, another typical morning at Hogwarts.

“Iola!” James barks, coming over to us a minute or two later. “Come on, get going!”

“Yes, James, don’t worry. I’m not going to be late,” she tells him, a little exasperatedly. For some reason, he gives me the Evil Eye, when I haven’t even said anything this time. After he has left, she says to me, “He gets a little temperamental around match times. Even more since he was made Captain! And with it being the final too ...” She looks at me apologetically.

“Go on, and good luck!” She leaves after her cousin.

I look around for Ophelia and Eve �“ Valerie will have left by now, too �“ and I see them watching me. When they see that I’ve noticed them, they turn away quickly and start whispering as if they were in a deep conversation all along. Apparently, in the week I haven’t been with them, they have forgotten that I’m not blind and stupid. Ophelia glances over at me, nervously. I raise an eyebrow at her, and grin. She says something to Eve, who also looks over. They both smile. I exhale in relief that they’re not throwing things at me. This is a piece of cake.

They get up and begin to head out of the Great Hall. I gather up Missy, who purrs happily, and race after them. “Hi guys!” I chirp, also happily.

“Lily! Welcome back. Come to your senses, yet?” Eve asks. Peculiar question.

“Uh ... Well, you guys are still my friends, aren’t you? I mean, you don’t mind if I sit with you, right?”

“Of course not!” she says, brightly. “It’ll be like old times, before you started with ... some more unusual company.” Odd choice of words. Still, she said she didn’t mind, so I’ll take her word for it. Not that I ever doubted she wouldn’t mind, of course.

“So, Lily,” Ophelia begins, “how have you been?”

“Oh, you know, just �“ Missy, what are you doing?” She had been struggling, and trying to scratch at me. I let her jump down and she turns and bolts in the opposite direction. Eve and Ophelia are looking at me oddly. “She, uh ... she doesn’t like crowds,” I say.

Ophelia looks around the near empty corridor. “And yet she’s perfectly happy in the Great Hall when everyone’s staring at her?” she asks. Damn, I knew there was a flaw in that plan.

“Well, she’s bonkers anyway,” I mutter. I wonder what’s really up with her? I mean, she’s been inseparable from me when I’m with Iola, but when I go back to being with L.O.V.E, she can’t get away fast enough ... I shake it off. She’s bonkers.

We chat happily as we head towards the pitch, and take our seats. It’s an exciting game and I cheer until my throat hurts. Then I cheer some more. For once, I pay attention to what Iola is doing �“ before, I used to watch Valerie primarily �“ and I notice that what she said is true; it really does look like good fun being a Beater, and whacking the Bludgers halfway across the pitch. I watch Valerie too, of course. She’s a great Chaser, and scored nearly as many goals as James, who was doing his usual trick of being an arrogant git on the pitch. Asshole.

However, I’m afraid that he is a talented asshole, and is probably the reason that we won the cup. How proud McGonagall looked as James handed her the trophy! Although, winning the cup on his first year as Captain sure isn’t going to deflate that ego of his any. Still, for a moment, I didn’t care that he is an arrogant prickhead (shocking as it sounds). Because in that moment, I was a Gryffindor, we had won, and that’s all that mattered. Of course, it’s only a moment.

We all cheer our way up to Gryffindor Tower and start to party (Yes, ‘party’ can be a verb, too!). There is music playing, and a lot of food, courtesy of the Marauders. The music is loud, and fast, and I jig about with Iola for a while. I like fast dancing, but as soon as the music slows down I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s a thing I have. Someone taps my shoulder, and I jump. It’s Eve.

“Hi!” I say, smiling. “Good party, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess. Lily, can I talk to you?” she glances at Iola and a flicker of something nasty passes across her face.

“Sure,” I say, wondering why she has to ask.

“Alone,” Eve says, pointedly.

“What, if you speak in my presence you’ll get rabies or something?” Iola scoffs. “Sorry, Evelyn, but you needn’t worry about that, the damage is done.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. I immediately feel terrible as Eve turns and stalks off. “Iola!” I scold. “You shouldn’t have said that! Now she hates you even more, and I was hoping you guys could make friends or something eventually.”

“I don’t want to be friends with L.O.V.E, Lily, and I didn’t ask you to be my friend either! I was perfectly happy with James and the others. Anyway, did you see the way she was looking at me? Did you expect me to just stand and take it? Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t take that kind of crap from anybody �“ especially not jumped-up little princesses who think they’re better than everybody else, because they happen to be so-called beautiful!”

As I listen to these words, my dreams of the whole Dorm being united once and for all, blow apart. Lily and Iola may be friends, but L.O.V.E and Iola never can be. Tears of a shattered dream prick at my eyes (poetic, I know), and I have to turn and run upstairs, away from the party, and sit on my bed. Missy comes up to me and snuggles onto my lap. I stroke her head, and she purrs, licking my finger.

“Things are so confusing, Missy. Pretty soon I’m going to have to choose between my friends, and I don’t know if I can. Why can’t you and me just pack up and run away, eh? Wouldn’t that make life so much simpler?”

She meows. It’s a crying shame that cats can’t speak English, or she could tell me what to do. She may be bonkers, but she’s smart. She’d know what to do, I’m sure.

Oh yes, it certainly is a crying shame that cats can’t speak English.

AN: Sorry about the slight emo-ness, but you can’t have a whole chapter of sickening joy can you? That would just be ... sickening. Thanks to Twizzle_loves_Lupin, for beta-ing this chapter! Please leave a review, and let me know what you thought!

Chapter 6: When things get confusing, worlds fall apart

I have managed to spend the two days since the Party Disaster alone. Yesterday I slept in late, and then hid in the Library, because I knew everybody would be outside in the glorious heat. Today I got up as late as I dared, after everyone in the Dorm had left, and then grabbed a leftover slice of toast in the Great Hall before running to my first lesson and hiding at the back behind all my books. I continued in this manner all day, but now it is the evening and I have no excuse to disappear, or look busy �“ I did all our homework yesterday and today’s I did at lunchtime to avoid company. So for once I have a free night. I never thought I’d be annoyed about that. How am I supposed to avoid people tactfully if I can’t look busy? Sitting here with only Missy for company just makes me look anti-social.

And even she’s in a bad mood with me, because I threw away her smelly old toy mouse, Mr Squiggle. Honestly, that cat is bonkers. Mr Squiggle was the first toy I ever got her, and she likes him and him alone, even though he’s lost his squeak, smells funny, is ripped to shreds ... and she completely ignores any new ones I get her. And then yesterday, in my anger at being so self-isolated, I went through my things and threw away anything old or unwanted. Mr Squiggle was included in that. Because of this, Missy not only shredded my pillow, but the curtains on my four-poster, as many socks as she could find, and my own favourite teddy bear, called Hunky-Dory (don’t ask). So I gave her Mr Squiggle back. And used more stitching charms in one evening than I ever have before.

I continue to brood on all this, until I realise that someone is saying my name.

“Lily ... Lily! Lily Evans, look at me for goodness sake, what’s wrong with you?” They sound exasperated, and have probably been trying to reach me for some time. I look at the speaker, and am surprised to see that it is Eve.

“Yes?” I answer, tentatively. Since when I was I scared of my own friend?

“L.O.V.E meeting, in the Dorm.” I am suddenly filled with dread. They’re going to either kick me out straight off, or tell me I have to choose. I follow her up the staircase. Missy doesn’t come with me, and I don’t blame her. I would stay where I was if I had the chance, too.

Valerie and Ophelia are waiting for us. They seem so formal, not nearly as casual as they would be normally. There are three chairs, directly facing another one. Valerie and Ophelia are on either side of the row, and Eve sits in the middle. What is this, a courtroom?

“Sit down, Lily,” Eve says. I oblige, feeling like a naughty child. “I presume you know what we need to discuss?”

For some reason, I feel ... really defensive. It’s the courtroom thing. “Why no, Eve. I don’t.”

“Don’t play games, Lily, you know exactly what you’ve done,” Valerie hisses. Honestly, this whole thing is nuts.

“Don’t accuse her, Valerie. Nobody is here to accuse. Just to talk,” Ophelia says gently. Talk. Yeah, right. Talk me into choosing between my friends.

“We all talked, and agreed that we each felt very concerned about your latest acquaintance. We, as a group, feel it may be unhealthy for you,” Eve tells me. The other two nod in agreement.

“Isn’t it unhealthier to go around in a tight little group, and never letting anyone outside of that, in? I mean, sure we’ve all had boyfriends, especially Eve, but did they ever last very long? No. Because we’re so closely knit that no one can get to know us properly, because we don’t let them. And you know what? Letting someone in, even if it was only another girl like me, it felt great. Really refreshing to have different company.”

They look at each other. Valerie sighs, “Should we tell her?”

“Tell me what?” I ask, curtly. Eve smiles, sympathetically.

“Just ... just a conversation we heard. Between the Potter cousins,” Eve tells me. Valerie and Ophelia both nod shrewdly.

I frown. “What?” I seem to be saying that word a lot lately. Mum would scold me for being so uncouth.

“Between James and ...” Valerie takes a deep breath as if to prepare herself, “And Iola.” Was it really that hard to say her name?

Eve joins in. “Yeah. See, we were just walking by an empty classroom yesterday, and we heard James laughing. And then Iola said, “‘She’s completely fooled.’”

“And then,” Ophelia piped up, “James went, ‘You’re such a great actress. You look as if you really like her!’ And then Iola thanked him, and he said, ‘When do you think she’ll be trusting enough to walk into your trap?’”

Valerie leaned in closer, “And she said, ‘As soon as she’s got over this brooding thing she has going on. Once she’s over the fight we had, she’ll be ready. It’s going to be so hilarious!’ And we were so shocked, we just ran away. And I guess you have a right to know that they were plotting against you for so long.”

I sit in hurt silence. Can I trust them? Of course I can, we’ve been friends about six years. But would Iola do that to me? I know James would, but Iola ... Although, what if that day at Hogsmeade, James really did tell the truth, and she found out I was snooping around after her? And then they concocted this elaborate plot to trap me ...

“Do you want us to leave you alone for a while?” asks Eve, gently.

“No ... No, I just want to go and talk to Iola and see what she says,” I mutter, standing.

“Be careful!” Ophelia quickly states, “I mean, she might try and deny it.”

I nod, and leave. I find Iola with the Marauders. Missy is on her lap. She must have gone over when I left. Traitor. No, Lily, that’s just immature. Sometimes I hate reason, especially when I want to be unreasonable.

“Nice cat, Evans,” James says.

“Yeah, great. Don’t go corrupting her, will you?” I bite, picking Missy up, and hugging her. She snuggles up to me, previous huffiness forgotten. I immediately forgive her for shredding most of my possessions, because ... well, she’s just so adorable. I turn to Iola. “Can we go for a walk?”

“Sure.”

We leave the Common Room. It’s not our curfew just yet, and there are still some older students about. “Iola ... Iola, L.O.V.E just told me that they overheard you and Potter �“ uh, James, I mean �“ talking. And that ... that you were both, sort of, like, plotting. Against me. And ... and you were only pretending to be my friend, so that you could trap me. Or something.”

Iola snorts in disgust. “And you believed them?”

“Well, no ... I mean, I wasn’t ... I thought that maybe ...”

“They were right? Yes, Lily, I’ve been plotting against you the whole time! I just pretended to like you for some ridiculous plan my naughty cousin and I cooked up! Well, you caught me!” She is being sarcastic. I can tell.

“No,” I say defensively, “I didn’t think ... I mean, I just wanted to check ...”

“Geez, Lily, you are so blind. They’re not your friends! They’re the ones who are plotting against you, because you decided to break out from their puny little possessive group of perfect plastic people!”

“Nice alliteration,” I mutter. “And they’re not like that! We’re not like that,” I defend, even though I did say pretty much the same thing to them, not very long ago. “I am one of them, Iola. I’m the ‘L’ in ‘L.O.V.E’, or did you forget that?”

“Why are you defending them? Nobody likes them! You think you’re all so popular, but people don’t actually like you, they’re just afraid to offend you, because they think everybody else likes you. But if everybody thinks that, then do you know what it means? It means that everyone is only pretending to like you! Don’t you see that? I could have saved you from that. You could have made friends with some normal people!”

“You think the Marauders are normal? If what you said about L.O.V.E is true, it must be twice as true for them, because they go around cursing everybody!”

“That’s not true either!” Iola cries, throwing her hands in the air. “You’ve been completely brainwashed by your so-called friends! Why don’t you see that?”

“If you really were my friend, you wouldn’t have just said any of that,” I tell her, angrily. “You wouldn’t care that I have other friends apart from you! I don’t care that you’re friends with the Marauders! Do I go around being bitchy about them to you?”

“Uh, yes. That’s what you just did, Evans! Don’t try and act as if you’re the wounded party, you have never, ever been through anything like I have!”

“Don’t make me try and feel sorry for you, if you won’t even tell me what’s so terrible about your life. You Potters are all the same, aren’t you? You’re so conceited! Everyone should bend for you, because you’ve apparently got this dark secret about your troubled home life! And James is the same, it’s just he thinks everyone should love him because he has talent on the Quidditch pitch. Well, who cares about that? So if you Potters don’t like me, why don’t you just stay away?” With this final word, I turn and stalk back to the Portrait Hole.

Who does she think she is? Accusing me of all sorts of crazy things, being horrible about my other friends. I should have stayed with L.O.V.E in the first place. I should have just let things alone when she said that the thing she was most afraid of was going home. I should have listened to the voice telling me not to meddle in things I don’t understand. Well, from now on, that’s what I’ll do. No more meddling for this witch, no sir. I’ll stick with L.O.V.E, stick with the way of life I know. Oh yes. Take that, Potter! Both of you!

It must be something in their genes that makes them so ... un-agreeable. Well, if that’s the way they want it, fine. I won’t have any contact with any Potter ever again.

“Evans?” Damn, just as I make that resolution, I bump into one of them.

“What do you want?” I demand. James looks at me.

“Where’s Iola?” he asks. I shrug. “Did you guys fight?” Gee, have a medal.

“Yes, Potter. We fought. And I am holding you responsible as well as her. So forgive me if I don’t want to stay around and chat.”

“What have I �“” he begins to protest, but seems to think better of it. “Whatever, Evans. Go back to all your perfect little friends.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m going!” I hiss at him. We push past each other. He goes towards the exit, probably to go and look for Iola, while I go to the Dorm, in search of the rest of L.O.V.E.

We spend the rest of the night talking (in my case, ranting) about boys, and doing each other’s hair. It sounds sickeningly girly, and it is. But things seem normal, and that’s all that matters.

Iola doesn’t come in until very late, when we are all on our way to sleep. For a moment, our eyes meet in the dark. I roll over and squeeze them shut.

*~*~*

AN: What a twist of fate! I hope you don’t hate me for making them fight like that, but it’s all necessary. So, review, and tell me all your thoughts. I love to hear them, and have made it a policy to reply to every single one I get!

Chapter 7: When People Ring Your Doorbell, You Have To Let Them In

The last few weeks of term have flown by. Quickly. Mostly I was studying for exams, despite the efforts of the rest of L.O.V.E to make me get out more. Ever since that whole thing with Iola, I just can’t be bothered with this whole friendship deal. It’s like I don’t see what the point of it is. I’m just as happy on my own �“ as long as I have Missy for company, of course.

It’s our last morning here, and we are packing last minute things up before we go to Hogsmeade Station. Iola is very quiet, I’ve noticed. Okay, I know she doesn’t talk to us anyway, but she hasn’t spoken to the Marauders all day, either. Not that I have been looking out for her secretly or anything ... She’s not even spoken to her precious cousin, James “Asshole” Potter. Maybe I shouldn’t be so nasty. Maybe she does have a tough life at home, and maybe �“ just maybe �“ she really is dreading it.

Oh, I hate this so much. No matter how bitchy I am in my head, I still miss her. She could really make me laugh and she was so fun to be with. We didn’t gossip about boys once, and beauty products weren’t mentioned either, which was a nice change. I mean, I love being a girl, it’s great, but sometimes you do get a little bored of that stuff.

I close my trunk with such force, that everyone turns and looks at me. “Sorry,” I mutter, and I lift it off my bed onto the ground.

“What’s wrong, Lily?” asks Ophelia. I shrug.

“Are you not looking forward to going home? Is it because of your sister and her boyfriend?” Eve asks, as she checks that the flower arrangement in her hair is still intact.

It’s a perfect excuse for my bad mood, so I tell her that she’s right. Iola makes a sarcastic “pfft” noise, but continues packing her things as if nothing happened.

“Excuse me? Do you have a problem?” Eve challenges her. Iola whips around.

“Why no, Evelyn. Do you?” She is smiling in a way that clearly means she is being bitchy. Who isn’t? Eve frowns. She is so much less pretty when she does that. Kind of like a Veela.

“Yes, I was wondering why you seemed to think that Lily’s worrying about her sister was lame, or pathetic?”

“Me? Think Lily is lame and pathetic? Of course not, Evelyn.” It really hurts to see her be so sarcastic about me. We were good friends for a while there, I thought. But it’s clear that even though I miss her, the feeling isn’t mutual. But I still don’t want to see her hurt, and Eve can be vicious.

“Just leave it, let’s go,” I say, picking up my trunk and dragging it to the door.

“Just stay away from my friends,” hisses Eve. Woah, dramatic much?

“What is her problem?” Valerie asks, as soon as we leave. She is deliberately in Iola’s hearing range. “I mean,” she raises her voice to be sure, “she just can’t get over that Lily picked us over her! Be careful Lily, or you might have a stalker on your hands!”

I don’t say anything, just carry on going, but I hear something shatter in the Dorm.

Once we are on the train, and it has begun to move, I let Missy out of her carrier (she hates to be confined for too long) and begin to read. My friends talk over the top of me, but I don’t listen. I guess they just think that I’m dreading seeing Petunia again or something. While this is true, I’m perfectly used to ignoring her, so that’s not the reason I am being so unsociable. But if they want to believe that, it just makes my life easier.

Eventually we arrive in London. After getting off the train, and queuing for ages to get off the platform, I find myself looking at my family.

My mother’s ever present smile widens. My sister’s ever present scowl deepens. My father’s ever present questions begin.

“Lily, darling! How have you been? What did you learn this term? Was it fun? How did your exams go? You didn’t cause trouble did you? And how are your friends? Did you miss us? Are you excited about the summer? What are your plans? Do you have much homework?”

Over the years, I have learnt to mostly ignore this until we are all settled down at home, and I am relaxed enough to answer everything methodically without stabbing something. I merely give Mum a hug, kiss Dad on the cheek, and say hi to Petunia.

“Bye Lily!” Ophelia calls. I wave.

“See you next year!” Eve shouts as she and her family begin to leave. I wave at her too.

“I’ll come over and take a look at your homework,” Valerie says, and I laugh.

I notice Iola and James. James has his hands on her shoulders and is talking to her, in what looks like a calming manner, but I can’t hear what he is saying. He pulls her into a brotherly hug, and they go their separate ways. James reaches a friendly looking couple, and Sirius joins him (I heard a rumour that Sirius left home last year and went to live with them. I guess it was true after all). Iola goes towards a man who had a lot of resemblances to James’s dad. Because they’re brothers, Lily, you nutcase. He and Iola don’t seem to give any kind of greeting, they just turn and leave the station. I notice James looking after them, biting his lip, worriedly. Something about Iola and her father is chilling.

We leave the station, and I get in the car. Dad is carrying my trunk for me, thank goodness. That thing is heavy. The whole way home, I can’t get the image of Iola’s father out of my mind. And that’s all the way back to our house, which takes about an hour.

A couple of days go by, and mostly I just get reacquainted with everything. And sleep. It is a Saturday when I meet Vernon Dursley again. He rings the doorbell as I am sitting in the Living Room, writing an essay that Professor Slughorn set. Good old Sluggy, he always gives easy homework. Or maybe I just find it easy, because I have such a talent for Potion making. Whatever, that doesn’t matter, the point is that the doorbell rings, and Petunia jumps up, flaps about a bit, and goes to open the door. It’s so funny when she’s nervous.

He comes in, with his chest puffed out, and his head held high like he’s King Pompous-Pants II (I say II because I have met his father, too). In fact, he was probably offended when I didn’t curtsey.

Petunia (who, by the way, still hasn’t realised that salmon pink is grotesque on her), clings onto his arm, and looks up at his face adoringly. “You remember Vernon, don’t you?” she simpers. I realise she is talking to me.

“Big head, overweight, and up himself? Of course I do. How could I forget?”

“How do you do, Lillith?” he says, stiffly. I look him up and down.

“Well, I’m not fat and ugly, so better than you, I presume? And it’s not Lillith. It’s Lily.”

“Yes, well, that’s good. I’m fine, thanks,” he says, indicating that he wasn’t listening to a word I said, he just presumed I gave the regulation “Fine thanks, and you?” response. Shame, I thought it was pretty witty, myself. Petunia, however is glaring at me and my clever insults, but that’s nothing new.

“Can I get you anything, darling?” she asks him, sweetly.

“How about some arsenic? Do you have arsenic in your tea?” I ask him, but am routinely ignored.

“Uh, yes, Lillith could get me a glass of red wine, if she will.” He doesn’t even look at me. What an ass!

“I’m sorry, I’m underage, and if I touch anything resembling an alcoholic beverage, I’ll immediately be arrested. And you, too, since you were the one who offered it to me. Now, you being in prison would be good fun, but I’d rather stay out for now. Especially if we had to share a cell! I wouldn’t be able to stand the stench!”

“Yes, thanks. And don’t take your time with it, either.” Honestly, he hasn’t heard a word I’ve said! All my witticisms are being wasted. If the Marauders could see me now! I wouldn’t be boring old Lily any more! They’d welcome me into their group with open arms, as the official wit-giver. Then I could publicly humiliate the lot of them.

Thinking about the Marauders gives me a brilliant idea. I leave into the Kitchen and get a wine glass. Now, a little water, some lemon juice, sugar, salt, flour, pepper, a hint of mustard, children’s cough medicine, some red food colouring, a good long stir, and voila! My talent for Potions shines again, it looks completely convincing! Should I add bleach, I wonder? No, I guess not. I don’t actually want to murder him completely. Not just yet, anyways.

I take my masterpiece into the Living Room, where Dursley is boasting about his job as a drill salesman or something hideously boring like that. Petunia is looking at him like he’s the Angel Gabriel. I hand him the glass, and he takes it without even looking at me or it. He brings it to his lips almost in slow motion. Tee hee, I’m squirming with glee! I’m so excited I’ve started to rhyme like a dime! Okay, that wasn’t great, but all I could think of in the spur of the moment.

He gulps about half down in one go. Not even a sip to test it out first. Oh, I couldn’t have planned it better myself! Even more delicious, is that he spat it over Petunia’s salmon dress, and threw the glass in the air with alarm, so that it sprayed out all over himself! I, of course, am doubled over laughing by this point.

Mum comes rushing in. It doesn’t take her long to work out what has happened, and I am confined to my room. It’s all worth it, though. I can just keep playing it over in my mind. The Marauders really would want me in their group if they knew what I just did! It didn’t even take that long to plan and execute, either. I feel a strong urge to write and tell Iola about it, but I know I can’t. Don’t think about it Lily, there’s nothing you can do about all that at the minute. Wait until the summer’s over. Aw, for once the voice has something nice to say. I wonder how long that will last ...

I spend two days in my room. I’m supposed to be in disgrace, but really, I don’t mind. The three of them go out a lot, which I think is meant to make me feel jealous that I’m excluded, and make me repent my misdoings, but it’s not worked so far. Probably because I just sneak downstairs and watch TV (something I really miss at Hogwarts), and occasionally make myself a sandwich or something as soon as they leave. Which, in fact, is what I am doing right now. They have gone to some carnival or something, but I don’t like crowds, and I’m quite sure they mentioned that Dursley was going, so I wouldn’t have gone, even if I had been offered. Which I wasn’t. Because I am in disgrace.

I take the butter out of the fridge, but it won’t spread. Mum reduced the temperature because it’s so hot right now, and it has apparently made the butter as solid as ... James Potter’s thick skull. I sigh, and look around for inspiration.

But of course! The microwave! I put the butter inside and set it to ten �“ no, better make it twenty �“ seconds. Just as I push “start”, the doorbell rings. They can’t be back, they’ve only been gone half an hour. And why would they ring the door? Why don’t you stop being gormless and investigate, Lily! Oh yes, the mean, sarcastic voice is back, I forgot to mention. Geez, if my conscience has a split personality, how can there be hope for the rest of me?

I open the door. “IOLA??” I screech. Blimey!

“Mind if I come in?” she asks, sheepishly. She looks in a bad way, and I am so baffled, that I step aside straight away. Well, I couldn’t keep her standing there, could I?

“What ... Why are you ... I’m completely ... How did you ...”

“I’ll explain everything �“ yes, everything, Lily �“ in a minute, but ... could I have a cup of coffee or something? I need to calm down a little first.”

I nod, not even realising what I’m doing. She follows me back into the Kitchen, where all my sandwich making stuff is laid out. Having, completely lost my appetite, I switch the kettle on, and begin to put it all back.

“Lily, why is there butter in this box thing?” she asks me. I realise with a shock that it is still in the microwave, and that ... Oh Merlin. What I thought was set for twenty seconds, turned out to be twenty minutes.

Why am I such a demented, deranged, degraded person? I run over, and hit stop, but the damage is long done. I just melted the butter into a bright yellow liquid. Iola helps me clear things up, which was nice of her since she’s a guest and everything, and eventually, I am able to make two cups of coffee with only minor difficulty. We take them into the Living Room, and as we pass through the Hall, I notice that her trunk is sitting there. It’s not just a quick social call, then.

We sit down. I look her in the eyes, and say, “Tell me from the beginning.”

She looks at me sadly, and nods. “In that case, we’ll start from when I was six years old.”

*~*~*

AN: Gasp! What’s going to happen now? By the way, Lily melting the butter in the microwave by setting it to twenty minutes (rather than seconds) is not my warped imagination �“ because it happened to me. Yes, I will proudly stand and admit that I did just that, and not too long ago either. I thought (after I got over the I’m-such-a-retard stage) that it was far too good not to put in a fic, so there we go. I hope you liked this! Time to review!

Chapter 8: A path becomes clear, and for once I take it

I watch Iola’s face, waiting for her to speak. I don’t want to tell her to hurry up, but it’s driving me to insanity waiting. Am I really going to find out exactly what’s gone on in her life? Suddenly, she speaks, without any warning. I lean forwards.

“Okay. So, we start when I was about six. Well, yes, because I was six. It was the 27th of September, and my Mum left. Out of the blue. Or maybe it had been brewing for months. I wouldn’t know. My dad �“ James’s uncle �“ has always been big on tradition, I would never have been told anything about what was happening. I should be seen and not heard. I should only speak when spoken to; I wasn’t ignored back then, but I always had this feeling that they only liked me begrudgingly.”

“What about Potter’s parents?” I ask. She looks irritated at both my interruption, and my use of the last name.

“Well, I was just about to mention that it was a different story with James and his parents. Radically different. It doesn’t really make sense ... my uncle is the older brother by quite a bit, but he’s far more open minded. He travelled, see, and maybe it freed his ideas or something, because my grandparents were traditionalists too. Anyway, like I said, he travelled for a few years, came back, and started his own business. It took him quite a while to settle down and marry my aunt, purely because he never found the right person. Apparently, she “saved his life” from being dragged down by work. He was a bit of a workaholic, see, and she was able to ... well, save his life.

“This was a couple of years before my own parents were married. My aunt �“ so James’s mum �“ is great. She’s kind of batty and eccentric, but I think she puts it on a bit, because if you sit down with her and really talk, she’s possibly the most down to earth person I know. My own mum ... well, from what I remember, she was quite a bit younger than my dad, always out to parties, complaining about being tied down by her family. She probably went off with some other bloke, it wouldn’t surprise me. But I guess I’ll never know.

“So, are you with me so far? Two brothers. Older one, open minded, eventually finds the perfect wacky woman to settle down with. Totally happy. The much younger brother was as old fashioned as his grandparents, and married a bit of a party girl who was really too young to be tied down, and probably only did it for his money �“ Merlin knows how someone could actually love him enough to marry him for any other reason.”

It’s weird to hear her say something like that about her own father, but I don’t tell her that. This also seems like a long winded story, but I suppose I should really get a feel of the family to understand better, so I just nod, and say, “Yes, I’m with you.”

“Good. So, they had me and James at around the same time, coincidentally, even though both the wives were miles apart in age �“ he’s still older by about three months, though. While James was a miracle, just the thing to bless their aging years, I was more of an inconvenience to a young woman with better things to do than raise her child. I was round my aunt and uncle’s as much as possible, because I felt so much more at home there. James and I have always been close, because we’ve been together since we were born. But like I said, when I turned six, my Mum left. She probably went off with some guy, as I said, no one was in any hurry to explain it to me properly. But it was like Dad just closed in on himself. He couldn’t take the shame of a scandal. That was when he started to ignore me. I’d try and talk to him, and he’d just sit there, staring into space. I cooked meals for us both, but he didn’t even acknowledge them. If he’d have just looked at me, just once, I would have been so happy. But no.”

Iola pauses for a moment. It feels so strange to hear all this. I guess the only other person who knows the whole story is James. A wave of guilt washes over me, and I don’t even know why. “I’m really sorry,” I say, because I don’t know if there is anything else that I can say. She waves it off, but her eyes are full of emotion. It’s not something you would normally expect to see with her; she’s usually really guarded about her feelings.

“Anyway, it was like that for so long. I would go to James’s every weekend to give my Dad ‘a break’. Like I was tiring him out or something. One time, though, I was ill, so I stayed in bed. Dad didn’t even notice. It was nearing my seventh birthday, and I was worried that Dad would forget completely. And then there was this knock at the door. I was so surprised, because no one had rang our doorbell for about half a year �“ James and his parents just walked straight in. Even though I was ill, I managed to jump out of bed, and creep onto the landing to look down into the Hall. At first I thought Dad would ignore it, but the person seemed to be pretty insistent, and eventually he opened the door.”

I am on the edge of my seat. “Who was it?” I breath, now completely enthralled. She laughs at my eagerness, but I am serious. “Iola! Was it your mum?”

Her smile fades rapidly, and she looks away. I know I must be right.

“Yeah,” she says, in confirmation. “She looked exactly the same. Probably still does. She had all these gift boxes in her arms ...

“‘Is Iola here?’ she asked, and Dad just grunted a no.

“So she said, ‘When will she be back?’ and Dad just shrugged at her.

“‘Can you let me know? I really want to see her.’ I tell you, I nearly ran straight down the stairs and into her arms, but something kept me rooted.

“‘For Merlin’s sake, woman, I’ve told you no! What makes you think she’d want to see you, anyway?’

“‘She’s my daughter! I have every right!’

“‘Oh, don’t start on your bloody rights again, you were the one who walked out on us!’

“‘No, I walked out on you! I told you from the beginning that I wanted to see her as much as possible, but you just couldn’t let me, could you? Always have to be right, don’t you? As if you’re a good father to her!’

“And then he just got so angry, he grabbed the gifts she’d got me, took out his wand, and set them on fire. Mum leaped at him, started scratching at his face, and he hit her. So hard that she fell down. Being who she is, she got straight back up again, and tried to fight him back, but of course it was no use. I ran down the stairs, screaming at them both. They looked up, and Mum saw me, and burst into tears. She ran off then, and I’ve not seen her since.

“I told myself I hated my father after that, and I did everything I could to avoid him. I wouldn’t look at him, I wouldn’t cooperate. I was only ever happy at my aunt and uncle’s, with James. Dad was so frustrated when he heard that I was a perfectly normal kid there, but this timid little shell at home. One day he got so mad at me, he hit me, too. I think that was around the time he started drinking �“ not excessively, but still. It was only once, and he cried, and begged afterwards, spoiling me, buying me flowers, trying to make it up to me, and I was only seven, so I bought it. But it became a cycle. I annoyed him, I got hit. He would butter me up until we were happy again, I would annoy him, and the whole thing would go round again.

“As I got older, I realised how screwed up he was, and I stopped letting him win me over just before I began Hogwarts for the first time. He hit me, and instead of waiting for him to start showering me with apologies, I argued with him �“ I told him just what I thought of him. And the next day I went to Hogwarts.

“I don’t know if you remember, but that first day, I was so happy. There’s something about James that makes me so much more confident. I think I was maybe a little over confident. I came in, laughing because James had made a prat of himself already, and you and your friends just stared at me like I was a freak. Before then, I don’t think I really knew how bitchy girls can be, but that really brought it home. I was so determined to be a whole new person that I joined in with the bitchiness a bit, didn’t I? Me, you, and your friends, we could never get along, could we?”

I smile, because it’s true. But I’m also mortified at myself, at my friends. After everything she told me so far, and knowing that we had made her feel worse, how could she even consider socialising with me? How could she consider not ripping me to shreds �“ even if I was the one who tried to be nice to her at first? Ripping me to shreds would be letting me off lightly, in my opinion. She begins to speak, so I concentrate, and stop letting my thoughts wander.

“So, during Hogwarts, I was having the time of my life. I made friends with Remus, Peter, and�“” she coughs a little, “�“and Sirius. Only James knew what life was like at home, and he would never tell a soul. Eventually, the other three found out too, but it was only ever James I would talk to about it.”

I think back to when I stalked the Marauders in Hogsmeade to try and get this very information from him. I guess I’m kind of glad he didn’t tell me.

“As you know, we loved causing havoc. After so many years of being emotionally locked up, it felt so wonderful to be free. Maybe I took it a little too far, but I don’t regret it a bit, some brilliant times were had. The Potter Cousins vs. Authority. No matter how horrible it is at home, at least I can say I’ve had a great school life.”

“What happened when you got home? In the summers, I mean,” I say. The life brought to her eyes by memories of chaos, vanishes suddenly.

“At first it was okay, Dad always felt like buttering me up. But every time he went to hit me, I dodged, and that made him worse. He’d end up chasing me around the house, until I could escape out of a window.”

I almost laugh at this image, but then I realise how terrified she must have been. I imagine being in the same situation, and shudder. It’s nowhere near funny.

“I’d grab my broomstick, and fly to James. He doesn’t live very far away, you see. Pretty much the whole of the Potter family lives in one town, along with all the Muggles there. And anyway, the flight would calm me down. Eventually I started getting up at six in the morning, and then coming back at about eleven at night, so I barely saw him after a while. He’d always be asleep by the time I got in. Either that, or he’d passed out he was so drunk, but that wasn’t a daily thing. He wasn’t a constant alcoholic, don’t get that idea.”

“What did you do all day? Go to James’s?” I ask, wondering how on earth you could while away seventeen hours of every day.

“Not all the time. My aunt and uncle don’t know about my dad’s ‘behaviour’, and they’d get suspicious if I was with them every waking moment of the day. Sometimes I’d visit James, of course, or even the other Marauders. Other times I’d walk for miles, just for the hell of it. Sometimes I’d take my broomstick and just fly around. I’d go to the local Muggle Library, and do homework in the quietest, most isolated corner. It got really boring at times, but anything was better than being at home.

“So that’s how it went on. Remember I told you that I was most afraid of going home? Well, now you know why. Maybe it doesn’t sound absolutely dire, it’s not like I’m forced to work like a house elf everyday, and get every kind of abuse along with it, but you try and imagine living it, constantly. I get so depressed at home, that I live to the absolute limit at Hogwarts to make up for it. And there you have it.”

I have two more questions. “So why leave now? What makes today different from every other day you’ve had to live with it?”

She smiles widely, and spreads her arms out wide, “Today is my seventeenth birthday. I’m officially of age, and so Dad can’t do a thing to stop me leaving.”

Fair enough. Time for question number two. “Then why not go to James?”

Iola shrugs. “They’re on holiday. Him, Sirius, his parents. They’ve gone to Greece. But I wasn’t going to wait for them to come back, so I thought that maybe I could take a chance and stay with you until they do?”

“Well, I’m in the dog house a bit with my parents, but they could never refuse a teenage girl in need. Which reminds me, why me? I thought that you didn’t like me any more?”

She grins. “Well I’m not going to stay with Remus or Peter, am I? They’re great and everything, but I doubt their families would approve of a teenage girl living with their sons. But I thought, you being a girl, so there’s no worries in that department for your parents ... and I do like you, a lot. You’re the first girl who’s ever been a real friend to me. And I know we had that big argument, but I do that a lot, Lily. Living life to the full can work to release your crushed spirit, but sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes I just need to have a good old row with someone. James knows this very well, I can assure you. But I never stopped wanting to be your friend. I thought it was you who didn’t like me!”

I grin back, relieved at her words. “I thought the opposite! But I understand why you need to argue, I do. So next time, I won’t take it personally, okay?”

“Thanks, Lily.”

When my parents and sister return, they are completely shocked at having a stranger in the house. But once I explain to them that Iola really needs a place to stay, they’re fine. They ask why she had left home in the first place if she had nowhere to go, but I just raise my eyebrows and say, “Family troubles.” It shuts them all right up, and they don’t say a thing about it after that. Petunia isn’t too happy, but then, she never is, is she?

So, what’s the next step, I wonder? I can’t abandon Iola again for L.O.V.E, not ever. But there’s no way I can ever be friends with all of them, either �“ that much has been apparent in recent months, if nothing else. I need to do something about them, but I have no idea what. I consult Iola.

“I don’t know why you need advice, Lily. Just write them a letter to say that they’re bitches, you hate them, you’re leaving their pathetic group, and you have a real friend now. I’m sure they won’t mind.”

I laugh. And I know she’s right; they are pathetic, and I’ll be glad to leave them behind. I’ve been blind since first year, but now, I know what they’re really like. It was obvious all along, really.

However, they can be vicious. I don’t want to tell it to their faces any time in the next ... ever.

Maybe a letter is the perfect solution ...

*~*~*

AN: There you have it. If Iola’s horrible home life seems lame and not that dramatic to you, I want you to really imagine what it would be like to live like that. I couldn’t have it too brutal, because then her personality wouldn’t fit. This is the first of three summer chapters, by the way. So, tell me what you think, I love, love, love to hear from you! Where do you think they should all go from here?

Disclaimer: Starsky and Hutch was probably the most well known show in the 70s (as far as my not-very-extensive research can show), which is why I used it here. I did not make it up (obviously) and do not own it either. I also use a quote from Macbeth, which, of course, belongs to William Shakespeare (well, it’s not like he can sue me himself, so to whoever has that power, I admit it’s not mine!). While we’re doing a disclaimer, may I also remind you (as if you need reminding) that anything Harry Potter related isn’t mine either. Now. On with the thing that you actually came here to read ...


Chapter 9: Too Much Can Happen In One Short Day

So. What’s the best way to start a letter to your ex-friends, explaining that you are leaving the group you have been a part of for six years, instead preferring the company of the girl that the group famously doesn’t like?

Dear Friends? Dear Ex-Friends? Dear Bitches? Dear Monkey-Faces Numbers One, Two and Three?

Well, this is going well. I don’t even know how to start it.

“Don’t start it with anything,” Iola suggests, looking over my shoulder at the blank parchment. “Just get straight to the point.”

It’s a good idea. But where do I start then?

“‘It’s Lily, just letting you know that I’ve seen past the fakeness of L.O.V.E, and you can manage without me for now’?” I ask her, since she seems to know what to do.

“Of course not, fakeness isn’t a word.”

I groan, and slump forwards on my desk. So far this is proving to be hopeless. Missy jumps onto my lap and purrs. I can’t help but stroke her, and it makes me feel a little better.

She’s good at that. Right, if I don’t know how to start it, I won’t, I’ll just get straight into it, and then use a copying spell three times over. That will show them.

I am writing to let you know, that I feel it is time for us to move on. We’re older now, and it’s time I found some new friends. I guess I’ve never felt entirely comfortable with L.O.V.E, even if I’ve only just realised it, and I will be spending my time with Iola from now on. I’m sure you will be able to keep up your reputation without me. We’ve had good times in the past, but I have come to realise that it was never real.

I’m sorry that it’s ending this way, but I hope we are mature enough to be ... well, mature about it.

Lily.

Oh, Merlin, what have I done?

Iola comes in from having a shower (it took a long time to write such a short letter, I deliberated over every word). She has borrowed some of my clothes, and they fit her okay, but don’t quite suit her �“ I’m sure she’d prefer to be wearing something black. She sees me sitting at my desk, hyperventilating.

“Remember to breath,” she says, drying her hair with a towel. I can’t help laughing, but it doesn’t last long.

“They’re going to hate me,” I say. I hear her sigh.

“Well, at least they don’t hate me or anything ...” she says, sarcastically.

“But you don’t care!” I protest, since I know that if you had lived like she had, I’m sure some silly girls not liking you wouldn’t really bother you.

“I’m just saying, that it really doesn’t matter what they think. Let them write you in their little hate book or whatever, let them put your picture on a dartboard, it doesn’t matter! As long as you’re happy.”

I don’t think I want to be on anybodies dartboard, but I guess I see her point.

“Now, just duplicate it a couple of times, and send them with my owl, if you like. Just let me write something to James, so I can explain stuff.”

It takes a total of two hours before the replies start flooding in. That’s express for you.

From Eve:

Lily!!! How could you do this??? Are you sure you’re okay??? You aren’t menstruating are you??? Because if you are, I think we should be able to forgive you eventually for this little joke. Because it is a joke, right??? I mean, you’re not serious, right??? Think of what we’ve done for you!!! You were an ugly, quivering wreck when we first met, and now you’re a presentable, human being!!!

I hope you haven’t forgotten that.

xXx Eve xXx

PS: Amos Diggory asked me out again. Do you think it would count as an on/off relationship after we’ve been out seven times in total???

This one starts to convince me that I have made the right decision. I mean, seven times? Does she have any self respect at all? And those kisses around her name? I never noticed before how annoying that is. Or the excessive use of punctuation. Does she think it will make her point more valid sounding, or something? It’s just irritating.

From Ophelia:

Lily, are you sure you’re okay? Is this about that time we told you that Iola was planning to do something to you with James? Because I’ll admit, that was a little underhand. But really, how could you do this? You’re menstruating, aren’t you? I guess that would explain it. I’m sure Eve will forgive you once you’ve explained that it’s all hormonal. And, of course, when you’ve given her that new enchanted perfume that’s just come out, as a token of apology. She’s quite forgiving, really. I mean, she’s going out with Amos for the seventh time, I think that proves that she can forgive people easily. Right?

Ophelia

PS: Olivia is driving me mad, she has this totally perfect and gorgeous new boyfriend. Mum and Dad keep mentioning that I’m currently single, and I feel horrible.

The Post-Script on hers makes me feel a little guilty, since that does sound quite bad. But the fact that she too, thinks that I am only doing this because I’m menstruating is quite annoying. I mean, I can do things rashly without hormonal influence, thank you very much!

And from Valerie:

Very funny, Lily. But you’re not that stupid. Unless, of course, you’re menstruating. In which case, you know, all is forgiven. Hey did you know that Eve is going out with Amos AGAIN? Seriously. I hope they break up by the end of the summer, I hate it when we have to watch them slobber all over each other. You’d think that she would have some dignity. Am I right? Oh, and before I forget, could you send me your notes on Vanishing Charms? I usually get one of my brothers to do my homework, but they’re all out being stupid, so it would be quicker if you did it. I mean, I have to practice Quidditch to keep my game up, or I will look pathetic next to that damned James Potter. Speaking of the Potters, do you really think that I would fall for that joke you sent out?

Valerie

PS: Don’t forget those Vanishing Charm notes.

Another one who blames my menstrual cycle. I think this is the most unbelievable of the letters. She’s so ... flippant. Maybe I’ll miss Eve’s gracefulness from time to time, and I’ll certainly miss Ophelia now and then, because she can’t help having an impressionable older sister, but I’m sure not going to miss Valerie. I mean ... She’s so insensitive.

I don’t read the reply from James, but Iola does, and snorts with contempt.

“What?” I ask her.

“Oh, James is just being a bit of a ... well, never mind.”

“It’s because it’s me you’re staying with, isn’t it?” I already know the answer. Ever since that day in Hogsmeade, it’s possible that my detest of him is actually matched by his abhorrence of me.

“Well ... yes. He was merely irritated with you last year, but then something happened near the end, and ...”

“He hated me again?”

She looks shocked. “He never hated you, Lily! He was completely in love with you! I didn’t have a clue why, myself. Remember that bet? Well, they only did that so he could ask you out without feeling stupid. If it looked like they were ALL asking an L.O.V.E girl out, he wouldn’t be on his own. But you never said yes, and then in fifth year, you both had that massive fight. After that, he was actually going to try and grow up a bit, but you kept reporting them for every tiny thing they did. Like I said, mostly he was just irritated, but suddenly he changed completely. When you asked if I was all right, and he had a huge rampage over it for no reason? Well, after that, he just seemed to ...”

“Hate me?” I finish for her. She shrugs. I feel an urge to tell her what really happened. “Iola ...” I start, tentatively.

“Yes? What’s wrong?”

“Um. That day when James told you he had a big rage for no reason? Well, I wasn’t just asking how you were. I asked him if you had trouble at home. Because of that comment you made. And he said that it wasn’t my business, but I kept insisting, so that’s why we both got so angry. I think ... he made it out to you that he got angry for no reason so that he could protect you. You know?”

“Really? It was ... it was kind of justified, is what you’re saying?”

“Well ... yes. And I realise now that I shouldn’t have meddled. I don’t blame him really. He was just protecting you.”

She seems flattered that he would make himself sound stupid just to protect her. “That’s ... I guess, that was good of him. You see, he’s not the selfish pig you think he is. If he would make himself look like an idiot for his cousin, imagine what he would do for the girl he was completely in love with ...”

“I hope you’re not referring to me. Even if you could convince me to like him, I’ve blown any chances we have. You know how much he doesn’t like me. Just take that letter he’s written.”

Iola looks down at it, and grimaces. “I guess so. But I always kind of thought you would make a good couple. Well, not at first. But when I got to know you, I did. You’d balance each other out.”

“Well, I don’t mind too much that he hates me, really. I’ve never been too hot on him, trust me.”

With that, I turn towards the desk, and begin writing replies to each letter from L.O.V.E, explaining that no, I’m not menstruating (yeesh), and yes, I really am leaving L.O.V.E. Iola also writes a slightly angry letter (but softened by her revelation about how far he went to protect her), saying that ... well, I don’t know what it said, but I presume she said that she doesn’t care what he thinks, because she’s staying.

I demonstrate the TV to Iola while we wait for replies. She was particularly impressed by Starsky and Hutch. And who wouldn’t be? That many explosions in one show? The cops themselves get on my nerves a little, but who wouldn’t love that car? Lily, you’re going on a tangent again! Get to the point, dammit!

Ah, how I love these reminders my conscience feels its necessary to give me. You’ve got to have some verbal abuse to get you through the day.

You’re still not getting to the point! What’s wrong with you?

Okay, fine. James sends his reply, and it’s very short and to the point. I sneak a look at it (yes, I’m a bad person) just out of curiosity.

Iola,

Fine. Do what you like. We’re coming back in a couple of days anyway, so you won’t have to stay with her long.

Your cousin,

James.

Ps �“ Sirius says hi. He’s having fun out here in Greece, you’d think he’d never had a change of scenery before. It seems he gets high on it.

That settles that then.

“Have the others not written back yet? They can’t be sulking, surely?” Iola asks, a little later, as we’re still crashing out on the sofa.

“I don’t know. They’re more malicious than that, though, so I don’t think so. Ophelia is the only one who ever sulks �“ and it’s usually Valerie’s fault �“ but the other two ... they’re more the look-like-sweetness-and-light-but-they’re-actually-planning-on-stabbing-you-in-the-back types. And Ophelia would go along with it if they told her to.”

“Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under't,” Iola says, more to herself than me. “Macbeth,” she explains, when she sees me looking.

“When did you read Macbeth?” I ask, impressed.

“Remember all those summers spent avoiding my father? How I said that sometimes I’d go to the Muggle Library?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You see? I’m much more well versed in Muggle literature than you might think!”

“I never doubted you for a second, Iola!” I say, grinning, putting on a mock-shocked face.

“That’s funny, because I did,” she says, grinning back.

“You doubted yourself, or me?” I ask, laughing. There’s a name for this. Banter? We never did it in L.O.V.E, we had most of our laughs being bitchy. Which, when I think about it, probably wasn’t the best form of humour. But this is fun.

“Both, I think,” Iola replies, laughing back.

“Good to know we can be honest,” I say.

“Lily! You have a visitor!” It’s Mum’s voice. Visitor? Me? Please don’t let it be that creepy stalker guy from across the road. He spends most of his time in his bedroom, but sometimes I see him looking out the window with binoculars. Not just at our house, but at everybody’s.

Please, please, please, please, please, PLEASE, don’t let it be him.

Are you going to stand there drivelling, or actually find out who it is?

Actually, I’d rather stand here drivelling. What if it is the stalker guy? He scares me!

Why would it be him? He doesn’t even know you!

Oh yeah. Well ... maybe he really was spying on me the whole time, and he’s come to molest me.

Just go already!

I give in, and go into the hall to see who might want to visit little old me. Don’t let it be Stalker Guy. Please, please, please, please, please �“

“Eve?” I cry. And there she is, blonde hair flowing, little pink and blue flowers in her hair, which match her little sundress �“ a pink one, with a little blue flowery pattern. She also has one large white flower in her hair, I guess to pick out her knee length white high heeled boots, and small white bag. As always when her presence is thrust upon me without warning, I suddenly feel immensely inadequate and self conscious, in my boring jeans and t-shirt. She is standing, examining her perfectly manicured nails. Petunia is in the kitchen doorway, with her mouth open, jealousy burning in her eyes. Eve looks up when I say her name.

“Hello, Lily. I came to speak to you about your letters.” Her eyes meet mine, and they flash dangerously, despite her sweet-as-candy smile. I almost shiver. “Ophelia and Valerie are coming too, but they might be late.”

Petunia rushes forwards. “H-Hi �“ I’m P-Petunia, and I ... I’m Lily’s s-sister.” It’s kind of pathetic. I mean, really. She’s fawning over Eve like a puppy in love. Thank goodness I don’t have a brother ... imagine the drool.

There is a knock at the door, which I presume is Valerie and/or Ophelia. It’s both. Valerie has a purple tennis dress type thing, and Ophelia is in a skirt and little t-shirt. I don’t want to be mean or anything, but she looks so much younger than us �“ like a little girl playing at dressing up.

“Uh ... Eve said you wanted to talk about �“”

“Your insanity? Yes, she would be right,” Valerie cuts in, a nasty edge to her voice.

“Now, I’m sure we can come to some sort of mature arrangement, and no one needs to get cruel.”

“Are these really your friends?” Petunia asks breathlessly, in awe at so much beauty, as she now stares openly at Valerie’s perfect figure (it’s all that exercising) and her striking attractiveness, what with the dark hair and eyes, and rich bronzed honey skin. Okay, so Ophelia isn’t a natural beauty, but Petunia is still impressed.

“Do you actually have a reason to be here?” asks Valerie, nastily. I don’t feel too annoyed by her tone, though �“ she has a point.

Petunia scurries away.

Iola comes out of the living room. “Oh, it’s you guys. We were wondering why you hadn’t replied,” she says. All three purse their lips at exactly the same time, and for a moment, I wonder bizarrely if they practise synchronicity in the mirror.

“So it is true, Lily,” Eve states, accusingly.

“That’s what I was telling you,” I point out.

“We thought you might be menstruating, but I guess not,” Ophelia tells me.

“I’ve been telling you that consistently for quite a while now! Look, we had some good times, and you helped me come out of my shell, I’ll admit that. But I think it’s time I moved on. I just don’t think ... I don’t think I want to be in your company any more. It’s just not working.”

“Is it something we’ve done?” Ophelia asks, sounding a little hurt.

“Not ... not exactly. It’s just ... I feel a lot more comfortable with Iola.”

“Why? She’s a freak!” Valerie cries, angrily. Something inside me snaps. Which is never good.

“You see? This is why I don’t like you guys! You can’t just say something like that, and then expect to get away with it! Especially you, Valerie! I mean, is your brain even connected to your mouth? You even do it to your friends! The times Ophelia has been almost in tears, and I’ve had to go and comfort her, because you don’t think about what you’re saying! And Eve �“ you’re nearly as bad! You manipulate people to get what you want, and then you pretend that you’re sweetness and light! And you’re all so vain! You don’t need to be up at five in the morning to go and run round the lake, Valerie �“ I mean, what are you trying to prove? And Ophelia, I know you’re overshadowed by your sister, but you’ve got to let go, and live your own life! You don’t need to be up in the morning, going through a huge beauty routine, when you would actually look a lot better if you didn’t bother, because you’d be more natural. And Eve, you are beautiful, but you don’t have to flaunt it over people, you just make them feel inferior! And �“ And �“ Look, I’ve said my piece. Thanks for being my friends, but it’s time we moved on. There are more important things in life than how you look �“ what about trying to be a better, more interesting person? What about doing some good in the world?” I come to a halt, breathless. Valerie looks angry, but I don’t care. Ophelia looks hurt, and I feel bad, but not bad enough to take it back. Eve’s face is completely blank, and I can’t work out what she’s thinking. This scares me most.

Eventually, she turns and walks out of the house without a word. Valerie sneers at me, and says, “I hope you have fun with your new friends �“ you can forget being one of us ever again.” And she leaves.

Ophelia is left. There are tears rimming her eyes. “Ophelia, I’m sorry. Look, I can still be your friend if you need me, you don’t have to cut me off completely.”

“I’m sorry, Lily. But I think I do. Thank you for your opinion on us. I, at least, will take it to heart.” She turns to leave.

“I’m sorry it ended like this!” I say, just as she is about to close the door behind her. It pauses for a moment, and slams.

What have I done? What have I gone and done now? Deep breaths, Lily, in and out. It was all for the best.

“But what if it wasn’t?” I ask, aloud.

“Wasn’t what?” Iola asks, and I remember that she’s still standing there.

“For the best,” I say. She thinks for a moment.

“Well, that’s up to you to decide. But you’ve said it now, and I don’t think that they’ll let you take it back. But do you really feel sorry or upset that it’s over?”

I don’t answer straight away. But slowly, I come to realise, that I don’t. In fact, I feel ... relieved. I feel free.

I turn to Iola, and smile. “No,” I say. “I don’t.”

*~*~*

AN: Don’t panic! It seems like it could be, but this is not the last chapter, there is still more to come! Lily has a long way to go yet, my friends, and so do the people around her. So, what did you think? How’s that for an ending to a friendship? Are you happy, or angry? Please review!

Disclaimer: Okay, since this is still set in the summer holidays, and therefore Lily and co are in the Muggle 1970s, can I again repeat that I do not own the TV show “Starsky and Hutch”, or the supermarket chain Sainsbury’s. Or hippies. Or communism. Or any other pop culture reference (okay, communism isn’t pop culture, but you know what I mean). People might suggest that the Marauders and Iola wouldn’t know as much about the Muggle world as they appear to do in this chapter, but I figured that since they would have to live in it during the summer and their childhood, they are the kind of people who would throw themselves into it, and enjoy it, not spend their time as recluses because they’re different. Anyway, I personally I really like this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!


Chapter 10: A Life Without L.O.V.E Is Like A Life Without Chilblains

It’s my birthday. I am seventeen. Only just, mind �“ Iola and I stayed up all night to wait for the clock to strike midnight. And when it did, we started screaming, and jumping up and down.

“Do a spell!” cried Iola. “You’re of age now!”

Euphoric, I had reached for my wand, and shot flowers raining from its tip like fireworks, or a very floral shower. Missy, who was sleeping on the end of my bed, looked very affronted as they fluttered down on top of her, waking her up. She started batting the nearest with her paw, growling slightly.

“Ha! A minute ago and you would have had the Ministry swooping on you like flies attracted to an out of date sandwich!” Iola said.

I wrinkled my nose at this image. She shrugged apologetically. Mum and Dad burst into my room with tennis rackets in their hands �“ clearly, they thought all the screaming was because we were being murdered in our beds (I looked worriedly out of my window at the twitching curtains of Creepy Stalker Guy opposite).

“Lily? What’s all this screaming for?”

“I’m seventeen, remember? It’s ...” I looked at my watch, “�“ two minutes past midnight!”

“Oh.” They began to go back onto the landing outside my room. “Go to sleep, girls. We’ll celebrate in the morning.”

“Hey, Mum, Dad,” I called. “Exactly how much damage did you intend to cause with a single tennis racket each? Were you going to swot the potential burglar until he left?”

The door slammed. Yeesh. Someone couldn’t take a joke.

Missy stopped trying to attack the flowers, and fell over on her back, before purring softly and going to sleep again.

Anyway, then we settled down, and now I’m trying to sleep, but it’s not working. I’m not an excitable person, so it’s odd that I am so hyped up about this. I mean, everyone over seventeen has their seventeenth sometime, don’t they? It’s not as if this is out of the norm. Well done, Lily, how long did it take you to realise that one?

“Hey, Lils,” Iola begins, speaking from her bed across the room �“ we bought another one cheap last Saturday, so now we don’t have to take turns with who gets to sleep on the floor. I love living with her, it’s like a constant sleepover. However, ‘Lils’ is something I won’t tolerate.

“How many times have I told you not to �“”

“Oh, stop whining. What have you got planned for tomorrow �“ sorry, today �“ because ... well, James and Sirius would have got back a couple of hours ago. I thought we could maybe ... you know, pay them a visit.”

“Are you insane?” I ask her, shocked, propping myself up on my pillows. She is sitting cross legged on her bed. Clearly, she had never even planned on trying to sleep. “You do remember how much James and I loathe on another?”

“Well, yeah, but that was when there was still an ‘L’ in L.O.V.E ... hey, do you think they’ll call themselves O.V.E now?”

Dear Merlin. My tendency to go off on an unrelated tangent has clearly rubbed off on her. “Get to the point, Iola,” I say, reminding myself of my own oh-so-polite conscience.

“Well, I’m just saying, he’s more likely to give you another try now that you’ve made a complete break! Unless he’s lost all his brain cells, in a terrible shipping accident or something, that is. Or, of course, you could carry on hating each other and making everybody around you miserable ...” Ah, there’s that old Iola charm, back again.

“Look, if he wants to deflate his engorged head and apologise for being an ass, that’s fine by me. But there’s no way that I’m going to make the first move,” I say, sulkily.

Iola sighs, and takes something out of her trunk. It’s a letter. “James sent me this yesterday when I suggested it to him. And I quote; ‘If she’s willing to stop being an annoying busybody and apologise for having a pointy, sticky nose, then that’s fine. Just don’t expect me to make the first move.’ Why can’t you both get over it? Haven’t you ever even heard of second chances?”

“Did you really ask him if it was all right before you asked me? It’s my birthday, after all!” I accuse, knowing how petty I am being. There’s something about James that brings out the worst in me.

“What are you people, five freaking years old? Why don’t you just both apologise at the same time?” she asks, heatedly.

Concealing a grin, I say, “Only if he agrees to first.” She looks as if she’s about ready to kill something. I can’t hold it in any longer, and begin to laugh.

“Lily! Stop that! I’m trying to be serious! This is my friends and family that’s in a collision crisis, here!”

Once I have begun to laugh, I cannot stop, and almost fall off my bed in hysteria.

“Lily! I’m trying to �“ I’m being �“ would you stop �“” Suddenly, it becomes to much for her and she too begins to shake with laughter.

“Will you two keep it down!” Petunia’s voice rings through from the next room. “Just because you’re high on sniffing magic tea leaves or something!”

This only causes us to get worse. As if there’s such a thing as sniffing magic tea leaves! Although, thinking about it, sometimes when I look at the Marauders ...

Which brings me crashing to reality. “Can’t we go and see them when it’s not my birthday? The day after, maybe? It’s just that if we end up arguing, I don’t want it to spoil things,” I say, convincingly worried sounding.

“I know, Lils. But I’ve really missed him. And leaving Dad, that was a big thing for me. I just really need to see him. He’s the only one who truly understands �“ I know you think you do, but you’ve never met my Dad. And I just think that if I was able to talk to him about it, then I might be able to let go a little, and really enjoy your birthday properly ...”

I give in. It’s inevitable. She’s too good at getting what she wants, is Iola. Damn her puppy dog eyes that she can take on and off like they’re a pair of sunglasses! It must be a family trait �“ I’ll admit that while under severe attack of James’s own version, I almost accepted his invitation to dinner once or twice when he was in his “hung up on me” phase. It had taken a lot of effort to remember that only a moment before, I had caught him torturing Snape, or playing tricks on First Years, or selling his soul to the giant squid in exchange for magic beans, or whatever other waywardness had been underway when I had arrived. Oh yes, I may make out that I am the only female in the school who hasn’t fallen head long for him at some point �“ but that is through extreme self-discipline and severe restraint.

“Thanks, Lils ...” she says, smiling when I agree.

“Careful. I could rejoin L.O.V.E anytime. All I’d have to do is buy Eve some expensive perfume, and I’d be welcomed back with open arms ...”

“And you’d always remember what you almost had, but lost,” she replies, grinning, fully aware that my threats are completely idle. “And don’t worry about James. He’ll be awkward at first, but once he sees how you’ve changed ...”

“It’s fine, Iola.”

“And sometimes he makes fun, but you have to remember that he never means it, it’s just his way.”

“I said it’s fine.”

“And if he �“”

“Iola! Shut up! It’s FINE!”

I turn off the light with my wand dramatically, still relishing in being able to use magic without getting expelled.

I wake up the next morning at nine �“ early for me considering it’s the holidays. Me and Iola are always the last to wake in our Dorm, and I’ve often had to get Valerie to run downstairs to the Great Hall, grab some toast, and bring it back while I have a shower, and then eat it on the way to my first lesson. Of course, I won’t get that luxury any more, and will probably have to go against everything I believe in and buy an alarm clock.

I go downstairs, to find Mum, Dad, and a reluctant Petunia waiting at the breakfast table. I notice Missy is eating bacon straight from Petunia’s plate, as my poor sister tries desperately to push her away. Everyone else is ignoring the situation, and I’m not about to step in.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILY!” my Mum cries, jumping up, and throwing out her arms. Always the one to take things that bit too far ...

Dad, meanwhile, merely looks up, smiles, wishes me a good birthday, and goes back to scanning the newspaper (some depressing story about murders being on the rise or something).

Petunia says, “Don’t you ever wake up in time? I’m late for meeting Vernon now.” And promptly stalks out of the door, throwing a disgusted glance at my cat, her “well wishing” over with for another year.

“Iola not up yet? What are your plans today?” Mum questions, as she presents me with a pancake �“ complete with eggy eyes and a bacon smile. Dear Merlin ...

“Nope. And we’re going to meet her cousin and his friend later, they just got back from Greece.”

Mum sighs, wistfully. “Greece, eh? I’m sorry you couldn’t get a holiday this year, Lily, but your father just couldn’t get the time off work, you see.”

“I know, Mum. It’s fine.” Dad works as a policeman. He thoroughly disapproves of my new obsession with Starsky and Hutch, saying that it is unrealistic, and “If I ever did that, I’d be fired and my family would starve. Those boys are lucky they don’t have mouths to feed, or they wouldn’t take nearly as many risks.” He just doesn’t get it. As much as I love him, the idea of this newfangled “fiction” business is lost on him.

There are four small parcels on the table, which I carefully open. A nice expensive looking pair of earrings, a cheesy looking romance book, and a pair of brightly striped long socks that are pretty fun, and would go well with a plain skirt and bright t-shirt.

“Thanks, Mum,” I say, since it is clear that she was the one who picked out my gifts. The final one is an alarm clock, complete with the largest bells on top you’ve ever seen. It’s a beast of a contraption, and I thank Dad in a strained voice �“ Mum could never be that cruel.

At least now I won’t have to stoop to the level of buying my own, that bloody thing will certainly do the job. Unfortunately, it will probably wake the whole school, and I’ll be voted “Most Hated” at the award ceremony (not that there is, or has ever been, an award ceremony).

Iola comes into the kitchen yawning. “Nice socks,” she says, as Mum presents her a smiley pancake, too. “Thanks Mrs Evans.”

Iola presents me with some jewellery that I would not normally go for, but I kind of like it anyway. Soon, we are heading off to “Potter Land” (The town where, apparently, pretty much ALL of the Potters live, along with some poor, unsuspecting innocent Muggles). I don’t know it’s real name. We have to travel there on the train and bus, because neither of us have passed our apparition tests, and my house isn’t connected to the floo network. It seems a long winded way about it, but even though we are now both of age, we can’t even make a Port-Key because of some sort of ridiculous legal reasons. We meet James and Sirius at a deserted children’s play park. The sight of them competing who can get highest on the swings makes me cringe a little, but Iola laughs. When James spots us, he jumps off, six feet in the air, and lands cleanly.

“Ten Padfoot Points for that!” Sirius cries, as he stumbles off his own swing, and comes towards us, dazed.

“Padfoot Points?” Iola asks James, an eyebrow raised.

“It’s his new award system that he decided to start in Greece. Don’t ask. I already have one-hundred-and-fifty-two point five Padfoot Points. You’re gonna have to catch up,” he explains, shaking his head in mock concern.

“You can have twenty, Iola, because I missed your presence. James got bloody irritating after two days, waffling on about all manner of suicidally boring topics. I had no one to share my boredom with!” Sirius says to Iola.

“You were high most of the time, anyway,” James points out. “You didn’t need to be entertained, oxygen seemed to do that for you.”

Sirius gasps loudly. “How very dare you! I am most affronted! Minus thirty-five point six Padfoot Points for you!”

“He still doesn’t understand when a joke becomes old,” James tells Iola, as Sirius has a heart attack of offence behind him.

“Some may say you don’t either, Potter,” I say, deciding to make my presence known at last, since nobody else was acknowledging it. “Does the name ‘Snivellus’ mean anything to you?” The two boys look at me, blinking. Iola bites her lip worryingly.

“I guess you could have a Padfoot Point for that, since it’s undeniably true,” Sirius deduces. This seems to annoy James even more than my being alive.

“Well, the amount of times you and your friends have had high pitched hysterics over something that wasn’t funny in the first place, leaves you in no position to critique, Evans,” he says.

“I’m not in L.O.V.E any more,” I point out.

“So I’ve heard,” James says, darkly, his eyes narrowing. I hate that guy.

“Okay. Can you guys ignore that you loathe each other and try to get along like civilised human beings?” Iola asks, stepping in to try and divert the enmity.

“Prongs? Civilised?” Sirius cries, unnecessarily loudly, before bursting into over the top peals of howling laughter. He is mostly ignored, and I get the impression that that is not uncommon.

“Well, since I’m here now ...” I say, sulkily.

“And because it’s her birthday ...” James complies, reluctantly.

“Good. Now tell me about Greece,” Iola says. Sirius immediately collapses on the floor and begins snoring so loudly it’s funny. This instant spontaneous reaction makes even me laugh.

“Sirius pretended to find it monotonous, but inside he was fascinated by it’s culture and history�“” the snores get louder and more determined sounding �“ “but I did not hide away my interest. The Ancient Greeks were wonderful people, with some spellbinding philosophical opinions �“” as Sirius’s pretend snores rise in volume, so does James’s voice �“ “Do you know, they had gods for just about everything! There was even a god of wine! And then there was the incredible architecture, and �“ SIRIUS, WILL YOU PLEASE BE MUTE?”

The snoring sound stops, although he continues to mime it. Iola begins to giggle, and James just shakes his head, giving up. He takes Iola’s sleeve. “So �“ tell me about what you did,” he says, and they walk off together. I don’t follow, knowing when not to intrude.

“So ...” I begin, not wanting it to be too awkward a silence. “Was Greece really that bad?”

Sirius jumps up. “Not at all. Prongs was right, I was secretly fascinated. Mad lot, those Greeks. Although I wasn’t high most of the time, I’ll have you know, I just liked being in a different country. However, if one gets an opportunity to infuriate ones friend, one must oblige, must one not?”

“Uh ... sure.”

“You know, Jamesie-kinns gives you some bad press, but I think I could find it in my ever benevolent heart to forgive you for reporting all our misdemeanours all those times. Especially if it will make Iola happy. She’s a great lass, and shoot me if she’s not!”

I smile. “No, she’s marvellous, I agree,” I say.

“Prongs will come around. Once you demonstrate your unknown talent as a trickster, he’ll change his mind. By the way, you do have a secret flair for tomfoolery, don’t you?” he checks, sounding worried.

“Oh yes,” I assure him, surprised at how easy it is to talk to Sirius Black when you get going. I proceed to tell him about mixing as many ingredients as I could and disguising it as red wine to Dursley, earlier in the summer �“ although it was only really a couple of weeks ago, if feels like an age, considering all that has happened in between now and then.

He laughs heartily. “You can have fifty Padfoot Points for that, Lily dearest! But don’t tell old Prongs, he gets jealous, bless him.”

I smile. “Thanks, you’re so kind. So, don’t get offended, but are these “Padfoot Points” actually worth anything?”

“Of course they are! Picture this; you are waiting for a job interview. Other people around you have the exact same qualifications. You need something to set you apart �“ what better than Padfoot Points, awarded by the legendary Sirius Black himself?”

I laugh, happy that I am getting on with people so easily. In L.O.V.E, we barely spoke to anyone outside our tight friendship group �“ but I never questioned that that wasn’t normal until lately. I’m finding that I enjoy meeting new people (okay, I’ve met Sirius before, but never properly spoken to him), even though I always thought of myself as quite shy. But maybe that was the label that got slapped on me because I was so timid in my first few weeks at Hogwarts, and I had just taken it to be true? But I don’t come across as shy now, I’m sure.

I look over at James and Iola. James is holding her to him as she sobs. I suddenly feel terrible. I didn’t know she was so upset about it, and feel a pang of jealousy that she is letting it be known to James, but has apparently been covering up her hurt to me.

“Iola’s had a rough life,” Sirius says, noticing me looking, “And she tries to cover it up to people she doesn’t completely trust. And, I’m afraid, that means the only person she is always honest with about her feelings, is James. Because he’s been there from the start. I mean, me and her, we’re good mates, but she still doesn’t admit it when she’s upset about what her life is like outside of Hogwarts, even when that’s clearly what’s bothering her. They’ll be done in about five minutes, and everything will be fine again.”

“I just don’t like that she has to cover up her emotions,” I say, truthfully.

“Well, everyone deals with things in different ways. Me, I rage and storm and take it out on people I like until I’m over it. James, he’s the opposite, he acts all extrovert, and takes it out on those he doesn’t like �“ more so than usual, I mean. Remus becomes a recluse for a couple of days, engrossing himself in his studies. Peter bloody whines until he feels better, but you can’t blame him, I suppose. And you ...”

I think about it. How do I deal with pain? “I become sarcastic and bitter about life, and then sob my heart out over Missy until I feel normal again.”

“You see? Is that any better than insisting that everything’s fine?”

“I guess not,” I admit, pleasantly surprised at how Sirius has managed to make things seem clear, and logical.

“See? They’re coming over already. Iola won’t have another break down to James for a few months, now. She can be happy until then.”

“You’ve shocked me, Sirius. I never knew you had any wisdom inside you at all.”

“Of course I do. I’m like a big fountain of wisdom. People throw pennies at me in exchange for my shrewd and insightful words!”

I laugh. As James and Iola come up to us, I notice that although they look relatively normal, James seems to be distant, and not quite there, while Iola’s eyes are rimmed red.

“So, what have you guys been chatting about?” Iola asks, as she must have noticed that we were both laughing.

“Oh, you know, this and that. A bit of deep philosophical arguments here, a dash of quantum physics there. Your average chit chat, really,” Sirius says, off hand. “She’s not a bad old stick, you know.”

James grunts his disapproval.

“Come on mate, everyone equal and all that lot. Don’t tell me you’re bearing a grudge for the sake of bearing a grudge! That’s just mad.”

“Since when did you become a communist?” mutters James, under his breath.

“Why, I’ve always been a commie at heart, Jamesie old chap! Wonderful outlook on life! Absolutely nothing could go wrong!”

Iola shakes her head in mock pity. Sirius grins and winks at her.

“So, what should we do now? You guys know the area, is there anything worth doing around here?” I ask.

“We could go and mock the hippies who still think they’re cool. There’s still a band of them outside the old Sainsbury’s,” James suggests.

“They’re still there?” asks Iola, surprised. “Well, maybe we could do that later. I’d like to eat first, though.”

It’s around lunchtime, and I suddenly realise that I myself am almost weak with hunger �“ how had I not noticed that before?

We head into the centre of the village, and stop in a small café. There is a grumpy waitress, and the tables need cleaning, but Iola and James insist that the food is good.

There is a newspaper on the table, and I pick it up as we wait. It is the one Dad was reading this morning.

“Anything about Voldemort?” asks Sirius, leaning over.

“Why would there be?” I ask, confused. “This is a Muggle newspaper,” I hiss, keeping my voice low.

“Well, yeah, but look; an increase in murders and disappearances, it says.”

“So? What’s that got to do with You-Know-Who?” I am looked at as if I am insane. Okay, so shoot me. I don’t know much about politics. L.O.V.E always believed that such things were for the adults to worry about �“ it wasn’t directly affecting us, so we just carried on with our own lives. It’s not like there’s anything we can do about it while we’re at Hogwarts. To be honest, I was always worried about finding out more �“ I didn’t want to depress myself. As I am looked at with such disdain, I start to wonder if maybe, that’s not something that’s actually very smart.

James is the first to speak, of course. He seems to enjoy looking for a reason to criticize me. “Please tell me you know something about what’s happening to our world? There’s a reason that families are being torn apart, that people are being killed. And you were aware that it’s affecting the Muggle world as well, right? That he’s killing them too, for the sake of killing them? Well, maybe not him personally, but his Death Eaters. You do �“ You do care, don’t you?”

“Of course I care! And ... well, I know the gist of what’s going on, if not the whole thing. But it’s not like there’s anything we can do, so why bother getting all worked up about it?”

“What sort of logic is that? And what about preparing yourself for when we leave Hogwarts? If the world was full of people like you, Voldemort would have taken over so fast we’d all be dead by now!” James’s voice is getting louder, and we are being shot funny looks by people who clearly have no idea what he’s talking about.

“Okay. If it’s so essential for me to know all about this, why don’t you all tell me exactly what’s going on, and why I should spend all my time worrying about it?” I suggest, with a slight edge to my voice.

So they do.

I realise promptly, that I, Lily Evans, am completely stupid, and naive, and useless.

But not for long. Oh no, not for long! I am determined to find out as much as possible, and, like James said, prepare myself for when I leave Hogwarts. I’ll try and do something to help, I’ll try to fight. I think I need to fight.

There is a slight barrier broken when I announce this with such velocity. Iola smiles, Sirius nods, agreeing, and muttering something about giving me Padfoot Points for such an inspirational speech. James says “Good,” all broodingly.

We spend the rest of the day happily enough, and when Iola and I go home, it is to be taken for a meal at some posh new restaurant to celebrate my seventeenth. Unfortunately, my parents bully Petunia into attending, and so she brings Dursley along for some company.

But it is made funny by Iola’s shameless flirting freaking him out (she does it as a joke ... if she really was flirting with him, I would have to desert her forever). And how we are able to constantly make fun of them without them realising, because they don’t bother listening properly to what we’re saying.

Let’s just say, I go home happy, and we stay up all night again, determined to enjoy every minute of the remainder of my birthday.

We are awoken the next day by stones being thrown at �“ and finally shattering �“ my window. It is this that causes us both to shriek, and run to see what on earth was happening.

“Shame on you!” Iola calls down to Sirius and James, who have apparently apparated here. How they got my address, I don’t want to think about, but we go out to meet them, and enjoy the rest of the summer. I even break the ice with James a little. We’re not great friends, not by a long shot, but somehow we begin to be able to bear each other’s company. It’s so hard keeping up a grudge when we are surrounded by the upbeat attitudes of Sirius and Iola, who are like rapid fire machine guns of wit and humour �“ and Padfoot Points, of course.

When our letters come from Hogwarts, though, we get the biggest shock of all. Sirius and James stroll into our bedroom (by that point, Mum and Dad are so used to them making themselves at home that their presence is barely noted, except to let them in each morning), and hand us each our own letters, which they have apparently swiped straight off the kitchen table. It seems they have saved theirs, so we can open them together.

Missy jumps up on my lap to investigate as I peel open the envelope, and take out the think sheets of parchment. A Head Girl’s badge falls onto my lap. As I scream in delight, I hear James exclaim, “No way!”

We look at each other in alarm, and our eyes travel downwards ... to the gleaming badge that has fallen out of both of our letters.

Sirius looks from me, to James, and back again, before saying loudly, “Well, give me a wimple, and call me a nun, because the hills are alive with the sound o’ music, baby!”

*~*~*

AN: Lol, can I just explain that final line �“ the original, “Well, cut me in half and call me a munchkin, because ding dong, the witch is dead!” is something my older brother said, and I doubt he thought of it himself either. But I loved it, and it sounded like the kind of thing I imagine Sirius would say in that situation to break the ice. Originally I blatantly stole it, but my conscience got the better of me, so I adapted it instead. I hope you enjoyed your extra long chapter! If you hadn’t guessed, you will be seeing a lot more of the Marauders from now on. I’m sure you’ll be as glad to hear that as I am to be writing more of them! Don’t forget to leave a review!

Chapter 11: Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Comical

Sigh. School has begun again. You wouldn’t believe the drivel Iola and I are having to listen to right now as we try to go to sleep �“ on our first night back at Hogwarts, too. You think they’d have spared us for at least one night.

Eve begins with, “I think we should make some changes this year, now that we’re one member short.”

“What do you suggest?” Ophelia asks, sounding interested.

“Well, for a start, we need to do something about our name. Since there’s no ‘L’ that’s worth mentioning, we’re either going to have to recruit someone called Lauren, or change our name to something different,” Valerie says. Iola raises her eyebrows at me from the bed next to mine, and we try vehemently to stifle our giggles.

“Well, it was HER who first thought of the name L.O.V.E anyway,” Ophelia points out, proving that they hate me so much they have forgotten my name ... I wish. “I never did like it, to be honest.”

“So, we should change it ... but what to?” Eve asks, sighing dramatically as if in deep thought.

“The Beautiful Babes?” Ophelia suggests.

“No, how about The Three Sexyteers?”

“Like a play on The Three Musketeers?” Eve asks, and Valerie confirms this shocking piece of information. And it really is shocking. “No, I don’t think it quite has the ring to it that we’re looking for,” Eve declares. And of course, Ophelia and Valerie instantly agree that this is what they thought all along.

“How about ‘When Good Girls Go Bad’? Or WGGGB for short?” Ophelia says, and I have to force my fist INSIDE my mouth to stop me laughing so loudly that the whole school hears.

“No, I’ve got the perfect name ... Kooky Bombshells!” Valerie cries, a little over enthusiastically.

I hear something fall with a thud from Iola’s bed, and when I look over, she is on the floor, rocking silently with laughter.

“What about ‘The Perfects’?” Eve suggests �“ although, of course, there is no point suggesting something, when you’ll be agreed with straight away anyway.

And sure enough ... “That’s a great idea!”

“You’re so creative, Eve!”

“I know, it’s from my mother’s side. I think we should also change our names, just to confirm our new individuality.”

This is what gets me, as I too fall from my bed in sheer hysteria. Looking back, L.O.V.E (I can’t bring myself to call them The Perfects) are the least individual people I’ve ever met. We couldn’t go anywhere without the whole squad coming, too. Well, okay, I went off to stalk James that one time, but I’m talking about the others. I was NERVOUS going by myself that day, and wouldn’t have done if I could get away with it ... but L.O.V.E coming too would have raised a few too many questions, to be honest.

“What do you suggest?” asks Valerie.

Eve smiles. “I can be called Evie from now on. You can be called Val. And Ophelia can be called Lia! Isn’t it the best idea ever?”

I can hear, uh, ‘Val’ and ‘Lia’s shocked silence, but they soon agree.

“But I don’t really like Val, though,” Valerie protests.

“It’s better than ’Erie,” Iola says, pronouncing the remainder of the name, finally able to control herself for a few moments.

“Who invited you to breath?” Eve asks, nastily, but Iola doesn’t care, of course.

They continue planning their new start long into the night, as Iola and I lie awake listening to them, trying to control our laughter. When Eve finally declares that they should get some sleep, Iola seems to take it into her head to begin her own discussion with me.

Way too loudly, she says, “Hey, Lily, do you think we should have our own name?”

I grin, knowing what she is planning on doing. “Yes, Iola, that’s a great idea! You’re so smart!” I gush loudly.

“Thanks, it’s from my gerbil’s side,” she replies, off hand, totally cool. How does she not fall over in hysterics? She sounds SERIOUS. And I can practically hear L.O.V.E glaring at us.

“So what do you think we should be called? What about the Incontinent Igloos?”

“It’s good, but it’s not great,” Iola says, sighing. “What about the We Love Egg Pies Association �“ or the WLEPA for short?”

“No, I have the greatest idea ever! We should call ourselves Kinky Missies, after my cat!”

Iola gasps, overdramatically. “And we should change our names too! Like, you can be called Lils, and I can be called Ola!”

“Oh my goodness, Ola, that’s such a fantabulous idea!” I cry.

“I know, Lils, isn’t it just?”

And so we go on, until finally, Valerie snaps.

“Will you two blithering idiots shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep!”

I turn to Iola, and say sincerely, “Come on, Ola, we don’t want to upset anybody. Goodness knows we might accidentally offend someone, I mean, just think of how terrible we would feel! Just imagine what it would be like to purposefully hurt somebody’s feelings!”

Now Eve joins in on the fun. “If, Lily, you are trying to make some kind of jibe, referring to Val, Lia or I being nasty on purpose, may I remind you that not three months ago, you would never have even considered talking to your new best friend. You were part of what was then L.O.V.E, and is now The Perfects, and I don’t remember you complaining then.”

“You know what I’m going to miss most about L.O.V.E? How nice everybody was to each other. We were like one big, happy family of four, you know? Too bad I had to go and ruin it all by finding a friend who I actually liked. Well, goodnight all.” And, remembering Sirius on my birthday, I fall into the loudest, over the top snores I can muster, and Iola soon joins me, after a large, equally loud and over the top yawn.

In the morning, my scary and possibly evil alarm clock wakes us up, loud and clear. Valerie has already gone on her five-in-the-morning daily run around the lake, and Ophelia is always up at six to got through a rigorous beauty regime to try and make herself less ordinary looking, but Eve is still in bed, being one of those annoying people who can get out of bed looking pristine and gorgeous. She isn’t too happy about my dastardly alarm clock waking her up, but oh well.

Iola and I go to breakfast fifteen minutes later, and Missy follows. She loves being at Hogwarts because she can make a trip around all five tables (including the teacher’s, she’s got nerve) and she gets fed by every single person who finds her sweet. At home, she gets fed when I remember, and it’s usually cheap tuna out of a tin. We meet the Marauders at the Gryffindor table. Sirius’s grin is suspiciously wide.

“We spent all night developing these,” he says.

“Developing these what?” Iola asks, helping herself to a generous amount of eggs and bacon.

Remus passes us each a large, oversized badge, in a shocking bright pink. Bold black letters say “L.O.V.E �“ Large Ornate Voluptuous Egos”.

“Tell me you didn’t,” I say, my eyes wide in horror. I look up, to see Iola already pinning hers to her robes.

“Okay. We didn’t. Although, all evidence indicates to the contrary,” Remus points out. I can’t help but laugh.

“Come on, Lily, we all have them,” Peter says. I notice that even though Remus and Peter weren’t around much in the summer, they both seem perfectly happy to include me. Sirius must have talked them into it. Shame he couldn’t do the same for James, though. We may have an unspoken agreement not to openly loathe each other, but that still doesn’t make us buddies. Not even the fact that we are Head boy and girl together has done that just yet.

“Look, it’s not that the whole thing isn’t funny, because it is, it’s just �“”

“Too late,” Sirius says. I look down. He has managed to fit my badge on without me noticing. How did he do that? He must have used some kind of dark magic, for sure! No, Lily, either you weren’t paying much attention, or he used regular magic. Like levitation and sticking charms. Oh, right, yeah.

“Thanks, Sirius,” I say dryly.

“That’s okay, Lily, babe,” Sirius replies, winking. James glares at him, subtly, and Sirius turns to him. “You’ve got to let it go, Jamesie-kinns! Old Lily is one of us, now! You don’t want to lose even more Padfoot Points for being grumpy, do you? Because I’ve already had to deduct around fifty for that reason! Iola is beating you now, and the fair Lily herself is not far behind!”

“Hey, Sirius, when do I get some Padfoot Points?” asks Peter, clearly affronted.

“When you develop hygiene, Wormtail,” Sirius says, but it’s obvious he’s joking.

Eventually, I am persuaded into wearing the badge. When L.O.V.E find out, they get this priceless part-sneer, part-shock, part-disgust, part-pity look on their faces.

Needless to say, by Lunchtime they have their own badges, in maroon, with yellow words saying “The Marauders �“ sad, pathetic and overused”.

“This is war,” says James, grinning in spite of himself. And indeed it is. Soon enough, the words on our badges have changed to “L.O.V.E �“ Long Orange Vertical Emus”

Which is quickly retorted by “James Potter has a “thing” for underage female trolls”. Which, if you think about it, is pretty creative, and lame at the same time.

Soon, Sirius comes up with our new message: “Now it’s personal �“ L.O.V.E smell bad!” By this point, we are giving away free badges to anyone who is on our side.

It is quite a sight to see Sirius in the middle of the grounds, calling, “Roll up, roll up, free badges to anyone in support of our campaign! Lily managed to put a Protean Charm on mine, so whenever my message changes, so will yours! Show the superficial minority what you think of them!”

L.O.V.E soon try the same trick, except none of them are particularly advanced in Charms, and so they end up having to create new badges each time they change their message. Which, this time, happens to be “The Marauders and co are inbred freaks!” Clearly, L.O.V.E don’t understand irony, and that Sirius’s last “L.O.V.E smell bad” message was clearly showing that we aren’t taking this seriously at all. In their desperation (for there are a lot more of our bright pink badges seen than their maroon ones), they are getting nastier and nastier, while Sirius, the one who has taken it upon himself to be leader of our, um, “campaign” is making his messages more and more ridiculous.

The “War of Badges” continues for two days, and it is increasingly obvious who is clearly doing it for some fun, and who is taking it far too seriously. Soon, pretty much everyone who is choosing to participate is wearing pink badges, and only L.O.V.E and their small band of followers sport maroon ones.

Eventually, McGonagall takes all nine of us aside after Transfiguration.

“Look, don’t think I am not perfectly aware what is going on at the moment. This “War of Badges” business has got to stop. People are beginning to get hurt. The younger students, in particular, are taking it a little far. So far, three students have been admitted to Madam Pomfrey because of duels breaking out. It has to stop. I would have thought that the Head Boy and Girl might respect their responsibilities a little better, but Dumbledore does not seem to wish to speak to you both about the matter. I would have thought better of all of you.”

“We’re sorry, Professor McGonagall,” I say quickly. “We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. We only meant it as a joke, but some of us,” I glance at L.O.V.E, “didn’t seem to realise that.”

“We will, of course, cease immediately if you, as our mentor and advisor, wish for it to be so,” Sirius says, doing a swift little bow, and practically batting his eyelids. Yeesh, I wouldn’t be surprised if he takes her hand and starts kissing it, he is buttering her up that much.

She purses her lips, as Remus, Iola, James and Peter all nod and apologise sincerely. It sure is a good job that they can all act so well.

“And what about you, girls?” she asks, turning to L.O.V.E.

“We’re not that sorry at all. It’s all Lily’s fault anyway, she was the one who started it!” Eve says, and Valerie agrees whole-heartedly, while Ophelia nods in confirmation.

This is so unbelievably untrue, that I open my mouth in preparation to hurl all kinds of abuse at them, but for some reason, it is James who jumps to my defence. I certainly didn’t see that one coming.

“It’s not true, Professor! It was all mine and Sirius’s idea! Lily was reluctant to participate, but we forced her! See, when Lily made friends with Iola, these three made it clear that she would have to choose. And ever since Lily quite rightly chose Iola, they’ve gone sour! We knew that the first few days at school away from her ex-friends would be hard, so we decided to make it easier by turning it into a joke for her! It was a dig at L.O.V.E, yes, but it was also because we didn’t want Lily to feel bad. We wanted a distraction from how strange things must be.”

My mouth falls open. “Really?” I ask, astounded. Because, it worked. I was so caught up in working against L.O.V.E that the fact that I wasn’t with L.O.V.E barely entered my head. Because if it had entered my head, I would have been a wreck. That James, who I thought didn’t even like me, would do that for me makes me feel ... honoured.

James looks me in the eyes for possibly the first time in a long while (without loathing reflected in them, that it is) and says, “Yes. Really.”

I smile. “In that case, thanks.”

This is completely unbelievable. Okay, so Sirius helped, but I knew he liked me. I thought James merely put up with me. Could I have been wrong?

“Be that as it may, I am asking you to end it right now. You’re all on a warning. If any of you is caught doing anything like this again, it’s detention. Am I clear?” McGonagall says, trying to keep herself stern. But, as a casual observer, I can’t help noticing that her eyes soften a little at mine and James’s exchange.

Leaving her classroom, we change the message on the badges one final time, from “Evelyn Chase has furry nostrils” to “Fun’s over, guys, no more badges”.

A few people come up to us, and ask what’s going on.

“It’s over, guys,” Sirius says, sadly. “McGonagall pulled the plug. However, if you want to express your continued dislike, she can’t blame us for that, right?”

A girl called Chelsea, one of prefects for Gryffindor, looks thoughtful. “So, what can we do instead?”

Sirius pauses, as he thinks. “Well ... I guess that’s up to you, isn’t it? Only ... well, try not to make it too violent. McGonagall would just blame us anyway, even if we weren’t responsible. And try to keep it in good humour. Got it?”

Over the next few days, L.O.V.E get sourer and sourer. While we do nothing ourselves to display dislike, the rest of the school has clearly turned on them.

I feel kind of bad. I mean, even though I really don’t like them, they were still my friends. Ophelia, in particular, doesn’t deserve to be hated like this. I try and catch her after Potions one day. It is our last lesson, so everyone will probably head to Dinner.

“Hey, Ophelia!”

She turns, and Eve and Valerie turn, too. “What?” Valerie demands, rudely.

“I just want to talk to Ophelia,” I say, fiercely. “No harm in that, is there? She’ll catch you up.”

Iola and the Marauders have worked out that they should leave, but Eve and Valerie don’t seem to understand just yet. “Whatever you want to say to Lia, you can say in front of Val and me,” Eve says. They’re still using their new names for each other, it seems.

“Fine,” I say, resigning myself to the fact that I am going to have to say it in front of all three of them. “I just wanted to say to Ophelia, that I’m sorry that she is included in all this. While she has her faults, they’re not nearly as prominent as you two, and she doesn’t deserve the whole school hating her. Ophelia, you don’t have to stay with them your whole life. Moving on is hard, but I feel so much better for it, and I think I finally have some real friends. Ophelia, don’t let them corrupt you, you’re the one in charge of your life, not them.”

Ophelia bites her lip for a moment, as Eve and Valerie give me the scariest looks of loathing that I’ve received in a long time. Eventually, Ophelia shakes her head, and says, “Sorry, Lily. I’m happy with my life the way it is. With Val and Evie.”

And then she turns, and leaves, Eve and Valerie going with her. I stand there for a moment, all sorts of thoughts running around my head. Professor Slughorn leaves the classroom.

“Lily! Still out here? Is something wrong?”

I smile. “No, Professor, I was just ... I’m done here.”

“Well, if you’re sure. By the way, is this your cat? I found her inside one of the cauldrons, she couldn’t get out, poor thing.”

I notice that he is warily holding Missy out towards me. I laugh, and cuddle her close to me. I begin to walk towards the dinner hall, and Slughorn comes with me. “So, she was inside the cauldron, huh?” I ask.

“Yes ... yes, it’s quite a feat, isn’t it? Don’t know how she managed it, myself.”

“Well, she’s always been bonkers,” I say. I like Slughorn. He’s such a nice guy. A bit bonkers himself, but he’s always been a good teacher.

I sit down to have dinner with the Marauders and Iola, but L.O.V.E are nowhere to be seen.

“So, what happened?” Peter asks.

“Missy managed to get herself stuck inside a cauldron,” I say, not really wanting to go into what he was actually asking about.

James changes the subject tactfully, which is nice of him. As the conversation turns to Quidditch, I let my thoughts wander. Before I know it, we are heading up to the Common Room (but first I have to scour the Great Hall for Missy, who, it turns out, is eating off the plate of a bemused Third Year Hufflepuff).

Halfway through writing a Charms essay �“ on Protean Charms, coincidentally �“ L.O.V.E come up to me, fuming.

“Lily, we want to talk to you!” Eve says, angrily.

“Well, whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of my friends,” I say sweetly, misquoting her from earlier.

“In that case, you can call off the people you’ve employed to hate us! We’re getting sick of all the nasty comments, and it’s all your fault! Before you got on your high horse, everybody liked us!”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ll ever be getting on any horses ever again,” I say, shuddering at the thought. Iola gives me an encouraging smile.

“That’s not the point, Lily! Nobody likes us anymore, and you’ve obviously done something to them! Just because you got delusional, suddenly people don’t like us, and so clearly it must be your fault!”

“Actually,” James says, with an air of speaking to himself more than anyone else, “No one liked you in the first place. Now that Lily’s gone, they’re just not afraid to show it anymore.”

Valerie whips out her wand, and aims it straight at my face. Sweet Merlin, this is getting scary! What do I do now? Get your own wand out, you fool! You don’t want to be undefended do you? As I reach for my wand, however, Iola, James, Sirius, Remus and Peter all jump up, their own already out.

Suddenly, the three girls look a little wary.

“Lily’s with us now,” Iola says fiercely.

“You know what?” says Eve, nervously, twisting a lock of her blonde hair through her fingers. “You can have Lily. We don’t need her. We don’t care if you all hate us!” she cries, her voice loud enough so that everyone can hear �“ except, of course, that they were all listening anyway.

“Well, that’s just fine then, isn’t it?” reasons Sirius, but he doesn’t lower his wand.

“Well, we’ll just go then,” Ophelia says nervously. “Come on, Val.”

Valerie keeps her wand steady in my face. It’s getting very uncomfortable, and my eyes are starting to cross. “This isn’t over,” she says, nastily.

“Well, actually, I think you’ll find it is,” James says. He flicks his wand, and the skin of each of them turns purple.

“No, James, you forgot something!” Iola cries, dramatically. She flicks her own wand, and the hair of each girl turns green. People begin to laugh.

“You both forgot the most important thing!” Sirius says, loudly, grinning all over his face. He flicks his own wand, but nothing seems to happen.

“Uh, Sirius mate ...” Remus begins.

“I know, I know. But I think you’ll find that they have orange teeth,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Oooh, creative,” Iola says, smiling.

People are really laughing now, and L.O.V.E have no choice but to leave. The whole Common Room applauds.

“Come on, James, we have to patrol,” I say calmly, standing up.

“Right you are, Lily, right you are,” he replies, following me out of the Portrait Hole.

We walk in silence for a while. “Look, James,” I eventually say. He looks at me questioningly, and I forget what I was about to say. “Um ... thanks. I think Valerie could have actually done something pretty malicious if she wanted.”

He smiles. “That’s alright. I know we’ve not been ... well, best friends lately, but I trust Iola. If she says you’re okay, I guess you’re okay. And ... and the others seem to have warmed to you considerably. Fresh start?”

“Yeah,” I say, not quite believing that I’m actually having this conversation with James Potter, the guy I’ve hated for so long. “Fresh start.”

“Also, you know, Missy’s so incredibly cute. And if that’s not a good enough reason to be friends, I don’t know what is.”

I laugh. “Indeed she is.”

So, it looks like me and James are on good terms for the first times in our lives. And I don’t seem to mind a bit.

I guess I’ll have to thank Iola later. After all, without her, I’d still be with L.O.V.E now. And that’s just ... that’s just nauseating.

*~*~*

AN: Well well, things are moving along nicely now, aren’t they? What do you think of these new developments? Let me know, I adore any feedback I can get! Although, I am away for the week after Easter, so may not be able to answer your reviews straight away ... but I will!

AN: Thought I would mention it now, this chapter has a couple of ideas from the book that this is extremely loosely based on (as in, I took the idea, and warped it until it was something much more my own), like I mentioned at the very beginning ... so yeah. Just letting you know. And while we’re on the subject, JK owns anything relating to Harry Potter, just as Alyssa Brugman owns the vague, obscure plotlines of Walking Naked that I borrowed.


Chapter 12: I Do Something stupid. No One Is Surprised.

Things go by blissfully until mid-October. Well, there are minor hiccups. The odd kidnapping, an occasional inferno, a few small near death experiences, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Of course, I knew it wouldn’t last. These things never do. But it was nice while it happened, I’ll say that. Even if L.O.V.E did continue to try and stick their oar in, to stir us up, cause a scene, it never really worked, so I guess it doesn’t matter.

It’s one night in the Common Room that everything subtly kicks off. As the Marauders “work the crowd” (or rather, try to entertain first years to avoid doing their homework), Iola and I sit by the fire. Yesterday, she had got upset about her Dad again. I’m not sure what kicked it off, but she and James had to walk around the lake about three times. I’m glad she got it out there again, but despite what Sirius says, it still makes me feel bad that she can’t talk to me about these things.

Although ... well. I could always talk to her anyway. No Lily, leave things be. Don’t meddle, you should know by now. Don’t you know by now? Remember our favourite friend, “Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand”?

I should listen, but of course, I don’t.

“Iola ... Iola, can I ask you something?”

She shrugs. “You can do whatever you like, Lily, it’s what you may do that’s the question.”

“It’s just ... well, you know your Dad?” I ask, deciding to voice something that I’ve thought about, but never come to any kind of conclusion on.

“We’ve met,” she says, in a warning tone. Key word, Lily, WARNING. Don’t do this.

“Do you ... do you ever miss him?”

She snorts with contempt. “Excuse me?”

“Deep down I mean. Not miss the way he is now, but miss the way he used to be?”

“Of course I do. Is there any reason for asking, because I’d really prefer it if you didn’t.”

“But despite what he’s like ... do you love him anyway? Because I was thinking, and ...”

“Lily, could you drop it? I really don’t think I can handle this right now. You do know why I was with James for so long yesterday, don’t you?”

“Yes, that’s what got me thinking. See, if you talked about it more, often, it wouldn’t be so hard on days like that, because instead of all your emotions pouring out at one time, they could be spread out ...”

“I don’t care, Lily! Please, can you drop this? I want to enjoy the times I don’t have to think about him, if that’s alright.” She looks away, stares hard in the fire. Missy jumps from my lap to hers, and she strokes her head automatically. As I well know, it’s a perfect stress reliever.

I pick up an Advanced Charms book, and try to make sense of some old guy’s theory on inanimate objects having life. Mad old codger, if you ask me, but Flitwick seems to think he’s some kind of revolution, so I guess I should try and get to grips with it.

After a couple of minutes, Iola says, “I still love him. He’s my father, and I wish I could have some kind of relationship with him. Why wouldn’t I? But I got the dud parents, didn’t I? If I’d been born into James’s side, things would have been so much different. I’d love to have him love me. What daughter wouldn’t?”

Ha! She’s opening up. Take that, conscience. Who says you’re always right? “If you could say something to him �“ in a letter �“ what would you put?” I ask, leaning forwards. I pass her some spare parchment and a quill.

She sighs, and leans on a book, writing a few words in a flurry. She passes it back, and I read the following words:

Dad �“ Love you really. My leaving and swearing to never lay eyes on you again because I can’t stand you was just a JOKE. Because I love to JOKE about these things, as if they don’t matter. An idiot could see that. �“ Iola

I look at her, an eyebrow raised. She looks determinedly stubborn. I told you not to meddle. Now she’s annoyed.

I ignore the voice, of course, and hand her another piece of parchment, without a word. She sighs, probably thinking that if she gets it over with, I’ll shut up. That’s what I would think if I were her, and I was annoying me.

Wait, what? Never mind. James is transfiguring a First Year’s hat into a dancing rabbit. She’s practically swooning. Sometimes I wonder how half of these Gryffindor girls got put in here.

Missy looks happy. That cat is spoilt, if you ask me. She’s putting on the pounds, and she’s not exactly getting younger.

Iola hands me back the parchment, barely acknowledging me. I cast my eyes downwards.

Dad,

What is there to say? Some days I wish things were different. Some days I want to beat you with a stick until you bleed. Some days I want to run away. Some days I want to be orphaned. Some days I want to find Mum. Some days I want to kill Mum. Some days I want to forget. Some days I want to die.

Most days, I want you to love me, as a father loves his child. But I fear you’re not a father. How could you be? A father would love his daughter. A father would care about his daughter. A father would not be you.

Until we meet again, whenever that may be.

Iola. Your daughter.

Tears prick behind my eyes.

“If you don’t mind?” she says, as she takes it from my hand, and throws it in the fire. She leaves, running up the stairs to the dorms. James catches my eyes, and frowns questioningly and �“ quite rightly �“ slightly accusingly. I shake my head, briefly, and he shrugs, turning back to the people he is entertaining. Something to do with tweezers and a block of cheese, but I don’t bother to investigate.

The parchment catches my eye. Glancing around, and checking no one is looking, I whip out my wand, and whisper, “Accio letter.”

I fold it, and store it in my bag, biting my lip. Now what? I check my watch. James and I don’t have to patrol tonight, some Prefects are doing it. I’ll have time, though. And no one can accuse Head Girl of being out and about at night, when it’s my job to patrol anyway.

No. I won’t. I can’t do it, so much could go wrong. But then ... but then, so much could go right. I imagine it. Iola’s Dad turning up, eyes streaming. Iola looking shocked, but kind of pleased to see him. Him running towards her, desperately. Reaching out, both of them forgetting everything, hugging, all forgotten, a true father and daughter.

Iola’s done so much for me. If by sending this letter, I could do something for her, that would ... well, it would be like repaying a debt.

I scoop up Missy for moral support, and head out of the Common Room, ignoring my conscience, which is screaming at me. I reach the Owlery, and Missy begins clambering up the shelves of owls, disturbing them, waking them, annoying them.

Practically in slow motion, I reach up towards one of the school owls, and bring it closer. No longer thinking about what I am doing, I attach the letter to it’s leg, and take it to the window, but I don’t let go.

There’s still time, Lily. You don’t have to send the letter. In fact, you can take that owl right back to it’s stand, and leave. Listen to me, damn you! Are you really this stupid? Imagine what it would do to Iola if this went wrong! Imagine how much it would hurt her! Just turn around, Lily, leave things be!

I should. I should just turn around. Iola is happy without me meddling.

Bang! The door opens loudly, and an, um, “engrossed” couple stumbles in. The Owlery is where they have come for this sort of ... activity? That’s odd, it smells funny in here. I cough, loudly, and they turn around.

“Oh,” the girl says. I recognise her as a sixth year Hufflepuff. The boy looks up, too. A seventh year Slytherin, I believe.

My, my.

“I’ll just be going,” I say, trying not to laugh at their guilty faces. Being caught out by the Head Girl is any couple’s nightmare, and I could have a lot of fun reporting these two ... but I don’t. It’s the company I keep, if you ask me. They’re killing my morals. But, to be honest, I feel better for it. Why shouldn’t I bend a rule here and there? I leave them to it, and head back to the Common Room. It is only when I go to bed that I realise the owl must have flown out of the window when I left, taking it’s letter with it.

Oh, dear Merlin. What have I done? I slip out of bed, and head to the window, peering out, as if I will somehow be able to see the bird, and bring it back, even though it left nigh on two hours ago. You’ve done it now. You can kiss goodbye to any friendship you might have with Iola, my girl. How could you go so wrong?

“Shut it,” I hiss, under my breath, as my forehead falls forwards, and rests on the cold glass.

“Who are you talking to? Going mad, Lily?” Eve asks, a her voice laced with nastiness.

“Go die in your sleep,” I retort, and head back to my bed. I cannot sleep. All I keep seeing is a Victorian looking man (I’ve seen him from a distance and he doesn’t look like that, but my imagination runs away with me) opening a letter in “Potter Land”, reading it, his eyes maddening with each word. By morning, he is drunk, and smells of tobacco and alcohol, he has a knife covered in blood and a twitchy eye, but as I have said, my imagination has run away with me.

Iola suspects nothing the next morning �“ a Friday �“ which just adds to the irony. How could I have done this to her?

I am a quivering wreck for most of the day, constantly checking the skies in case her Dad replies, and jumping every time someone speaks to me. Eventually, after three lessons of this, James pulls me aside.

“Lily, what is wrong with you?”

Staring at his face, which has a very interesting mix of emotions, only makes me feel worse.

“Is L.O.V.E giving you a hard time again? I mean ... Are “The Perfects” giving you a hard time?” he asks, grinning. They are still trying to commercialise their new names, but no one is really paying much attention.

I snort with laughter. “Merlin, no! I’d like to see them try!”

“Well, what is it?”

I bite my lip. Ow. “Um ...”

“Lily,” he says in a slight warning tone. Oddly manly. Wait, did I just say that? Of course I didn’t. Keep telling myself that I didn’t just think of James Potter as manly. You can tell yourself that all you like, but �“ Shut up!

“I ...” I begin, to distract myself, “I think I’ve done something stupid.”

“Are you offended that I’m not entirely surprised?”

I whack him on the arm, but not with much feeling to be honest. He’s probably right not to be surprised.

“So what have you done?” he asks, raising an eyebrow ever so ever so slightly.

“I can’t tell you. But I think you’ll find out pretty soon. You guys ... you would still like me even if I screwed up really bad? If I did something that made something a whole lot worse, and it could have been prevented had I not got distracted by something, and the original something was really bad, and likely to upset someone we like, you would still like me, right?”

“Okay, Lils, say that again, but a hell of a lot slower.”

I scowl, obviously Iola’s nickname for me is spreading. “Please don’t call me Lils.” And I stalk off. Partly because of the way he was smirking, and partly because if I stayed, I would end up telling him what I did, and then Iola would find out, and ...

Damn it.

What am I going to do now? Die a hated and friendless old crab? With only Missy for company? And she only stayed because she knows I feed her? Except she’s showing signs of being a scavenger anyway, so doesn’t need me anymore? Oh Merlin, I’m not even going to have my cat around when I die so she can howl pitifully? She’ll probably be in a dustbin somewhere, chowing down on some old chicken, without a care about her master, who is lying dead and friendless and alone? My death will be as pathetic as my life? How can this be?

James doesn’t mention our conversation for the rest of the day. Instead, everyone chats happily about the Hogsmeade trip tomorrow, and I pretend to be interested. How can I care about Hogsmeade, with this hanging over my head?

And yet, I find myself following them there the next day, still pretending that I am looking forward to this opportunity to relax. Relax. Ha. It’s weirdly ironic.

When we are on our way to the Three Broomsticks for an early morning drink, Iola stops dead in the middle of the road. She is staring, frozen, ahead.

“Iola?” I ask, worried. Has she suddenly developed an overwhelming skill for Occlumency, and knows why I’m not being myself? Please say that’s not the case.

“What did you do, Lily?” she utters, so quietly I can barely hear her.

“I didn’t do anything!” I squeak, unconvincingly.

“Iola, what’s going on?” asks James, frowning. Iola keeps staring straight ahead, and eventually, we turn and look where she is looking.

James swears under his breath, and I pretend not to hear. Sirius makes weird spluttering noises. Peter says, “Is that ...?” and Remus confirms that yes, that is.

I have, of course seen him from a distance. I didn’t really like the look of him then. To see him up close, is even worse.

Bloody hell. What have I done?

We all, instinctively, begin to close ourselves around Iola, protecting her. It’s the least I can do.

“James,” he says, nodding his head.

“Uncle,” James replies, not inclining his head at all, but staring him straight in the eyes ferociously. I shiver.

“Iola,” her father says, emotionally. We square our shoulders protectively. “Iola, I’m sorry. I never meant to ... I didn’t know what I was ... when I got that letter, I just ...”

“Letter?” Iola hisses, her eyes flaring up, so the angry fire in them is particularly apparent. She turns them to me. Oh, sh �“ No time, Lily. Apologise you half-wit!

“Iola, I’m sorry. I didn’t even mean to. I mean, I did, but I changed my mind, and then that couple came in and the owl must have gone before I had a chance to �“”

“You sent it?” she spits, my hurried words falling on deaf ears.

“Well, I didn’t exactly send it, exactly, it kind of sent itself, and �“”

“You sent it?” she repeats.

“Yes,” I say, pathetically.

“Wait a minute ... YOU sent that letter?” her Dad asks, looking at me.

“What letter, Lily?” James asks. “Iola, what letter?”

He is ignored by all except Sirius, who shrugs at him, clearly in a manner that suggests he is saying, “We’ll-find-out-when-they-tell-us-so-don’t-push-it”. I feel grateful for Sirius’s input. As for Mr Potter, he is ignored completely. Until Iola turns to look at him.

“You, I hate,” she says, but by her voice I can tell she isn’t finished yet. She turns to me. Brace yourself. Even my conscience sounds afraid. “You, I loathe,” she finishes. I flinch. You deserved that. Thanks.

Iola leaves, and her dad begins to follow. James steps in his way. “I wouldn’t,” he warns. Iola’s dad is angry.

“And why not?” he asks his nephew.

“Because then I would have to hit you. I don’t want to hit you. Well, I do, but I won’t unless you try and get any further.”

“She’s my daughter!” he says, angrily, as if we don’t know.

“It took you long enough to act like it. If you didn’t want to start seventeen years ago, there’s no point in starting now,” James says, coldly. This is a little harsh, but true, I guess.

“I refuse to be spoken to this way!” he insists.

“Then go,” James says. Mr Potter looks at each of us, wildly, before swearing, and disapparating.

With him gone, they turn to me. I look away.

“Lily, what’s been going on?” Sirius asks. I feel like a naughty child, and as I tell them the story, I stare straight downwards guiltily, not wanting to look up at them. James leaves as soon as I am done, heading in the direction Iola left, scowling and muttering to himself, several of the words being less than ethical.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean for it to send. I changed my mind, but by the time I realised what must have happened, it was too late!”

“Yeah, we know Lily, it’s okay,” Sirius assures me.

“Of course it’s not! Look what I’ve done!” I cry, throwing my hands in the air.

“They’ll come round,” Remus says, “They’ll understand.”

“Come on, let’s go and get a butterbeer,” Peter says. When we look at him incredulously, he says, “To calm down, you know? And to give James and Iola time to calm down before we go find them so that Lily can apologise.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Sirius says. He turns to me. “You see? It will work out, you’ll see.”

If only I could believe them. I know I’m lucky that they don’t hate me too, but I don’t feel lucky.

For the rest of the weekend, I am not even acknowledged by James or Iola. I try and apologise to both of them, even though I didn’t actually do anything to James. But he’s just protecting Iola, so I kind of have to forgive him.

I thought I would have to spend my time in the Library alone, but I think someone makes sure that this isn’t the case. I think it is Sirius. He makes sure that at least either he, Remus or Peter is with me at any one time, which is very nice of him, and I don’t really feel I deserve it.

“I mean, Iola is your friend too. You have every right to hate me as well!” I tell him on Sunday afternoon, as we walk around the lake. Because of the season, the ground is covered in leaves, from pale yellow to bright orange to deep red, and we are both kicking them about as we walk along, enjoying the sound and the feeling.

Sirius shrugs. “Nah, not really,” he says. “I know you never meant for anybody to get hurt. But at the minute Iola is too angry and afraid to see that, and James ... James is angry and afraid because Iola is angry and afraid. He needs to protect her.”

“Basically, everybody’s angry and everybody’s afraid?” I ask, a little cynically.

He puts on a dramatised thinking face for a moment, then relaxes and says in a defeated tone, “That’s it, yeah.”

We return to the Common Room dejectedly. When we clamber through the Portrait Hole, I am suddenly aware of someone running towards me, and throwing their arms around me.

My first thought is that it is James, and I have no idea why. Then, when I realise that my first thought is wrong, I move on to my second thought. Something along the lines of ‘Someone’s been drinking a little too much for a Sunday afternoon ...’ Until I then realise that that is wrong too. This was no drunken embrace, this is someone hanging on for dear life.

I realise that it is Iola, but can do nothing except signal desperately to Sirius, as my arms are pinned to my sides. He gently pulls her away from me, and she brandishes a letter in my face.

To a Miss I. Potter,

We are writing to inform you of the death of your father, Arthur Alexander Potter. He was at his brother Harold’s residence when he was found, along with Harold Hadrian Potter. The alarm was raised by his wife, Ruth, when she returned home from her own sister’s house to find them both dead.

The Dark Mark was above the house, so we can presume that this was an attack from Lord Voldemort and his followers. Rest assured that we are doing all we can to find and defeat your father’s killers, and that his was an honourable death, as there was evidence of a struggle.

Our deepest condolences,

Alistor Moody
Head of Auror Department
Ministry of Magic

Oh my ... I look over to James, who has an unopened letter in his hand, the envelope bordered with a thick black line. They must have realised what was in the letters, and opened Iola’s ... which also gave them the contents of his letter.

Oh my goodness. What do I do? I see Sirius take the letter from my hand, read the first couple of lines, and drop it, before grabbing Iola and letting her burst into sobs on his shoulder. Nothing you can do there. Go to James. Go, you fool!

I walk softly over to the armchair he is slumped in, and perch on the armrest. “Hey,” I say, softly. He looks up, and smiles briefly, but without much feeling. It is clear that I am forgiven. Well, obviously. This kind of gives things a little more perspective. I place my hand on his shoulder, but do not say anything. What is there to say?

Remus and Peter are sitting opposite, both of them silent as well. Eventually, Sirius and Iola come to join us. Iola has stopped crying, and it seems that we sit here forever, silent.

But it is not forever. Iola and James are allowed to go home for the next few days. It is strange without them, but when they return on Friday, it is clear they are both coming back to themselves. They haven’t forgotten, but they can continue with their lives. They’re strong. And now, they have even more of a reason to go on. They’re not the kind of people to let this defeat them.

Although it seems meaningless, I still apologise to Iola the evening she returns, when we are in the dorm. L.O.V.E are nowhere to be seen, and have not said anything to any of us ever since last Sunday. They are being respectfully distant, and although they hardly like us, or we them, it is a gesture to be thankful for. They’re not completely inhuman, after all.

As for my apology, Iola makes me feel a lot better, even though she is the one who has been hurt.

“It’s okay, Lily. I may not like the way you went about it, but it meant I got to see him one last time, even if we didn’t exactly make up. If he came all the way here to see me because of what was said, it means that somewhere inside him, he still had that spark of love for me somewhere. It’s comforting, even though I wish I hadn’t left without talking to him. He was able to know how I felt before he died and that’s a good thing.”

“Trust me, I’m not going to do anything like that again,” I say.

She smiles, and a shadow of her old spark jumps in her eyes. “I wouldn’t swear on that, Lily,” she says.

I grab my pillow and throw it at her, softly. She catches it, though, of course, and just grins.

And I know things will be right again soon.

*~*~*

AN: A sad chapter but at least it has a semi happy ending, right? Only ... *thinks* three more to go now ... My word, where has the time gone? Review, of course, and tell me your thoughts!

AN: To get it out of the way now, Hallead is pronounced Hallie-add, not Hall-eed or Hay-lead. It’s a mystical name I made up. I will say no more, so you’ll have to read and find out why you need to know that ...


Chapter 13: That Freezing, Stressful, Traumatic, Ridiculously Distressing, Happy Time Of Year

The snow is falling softly like the kind of Christmas card my mum circulates to every single person we know around this time of year. If I was a normal person, I would be out there frolicking like everybody else, but I’m so completely not normal that I am in here scribbling away at a ridiculously pointless essay for Defence Against the Dark Arts, outlining when it is and isn’t necessary to use curses rather than counter-curses �“ and all the grey in between.

I have fifteen minutes to write another foot.

Why am I �“ Lily Evans, homework extraordinaire �“ doing this at the last possible minute? Blame Iola. And James. And Sirius. And Remus. And maybe Peter.

It’s all based around the annual “First Snow” House party Gryffindor throws around this time each year. It goes like this:

No matter what time it is, or what lesson we are in, everyone in Gryffindor becomes on the look out for the First Snow of the winter. It drives the teachers mad, because everyone is too busy studying the outdoors than studying which way their wand happens to be pointing. And then there are the sudden screeches of “It’s snowing!!” that happen every so often, although these are often false proclamations, to keep us on our toes.

And the minute that real, proper snow begins to fall, all hell breaks loose. Because that is the signal that there is going to be a party that night. And so everyone loses whatever interest they may have feigned in their studies, and begins planning all the details �“ food, music, clothes, drinkies (the unconvincing codename for alcohol), and anything else that needs to be planned. And there is never anything any of the professors can do about it. McGonagall tries, and almost succeeds, but everyone still manages to do it anyway, just more discreetly.

Before my enlightenment, L.O.V.E (me included) always looked down our nose at this practise. Probably because, unsurprisingly, the Marauders are the key people behind the whole charade. We always purposefully ignored it, boycotting any talk of anything party or snow related. “The Perfects” were doing the same this year, it seems, but I had no choice but to join in. And I realised �“ it is so much fun. The anticipation, the excitement, the constantly high vibe buzzing around, the way (almost) everyone becomes one in our quest for First Snow. People put bets on when we think it will happen, and people are always excited, always smiling. Unless you go for the boycott route that L.O.V.E always did, you are helpless against the First Snow bug.

And yesterday, it happened. The biggest, whitest flakes you’ve ever seen, which were very quickly building up on the ground. Luckily, we were in Charms at the time, giving us the ability to talk freely about our plans. Iola and I were put on decoration duty, Sirius and Peter were going to be in charge of the drinkies, James and Remus were given the job of sweet talking the House Elves into supplying food, and we were discussing who it would be best to employ to do the music �“ eventually it was decided we could ask a couple of boys in the year below who had pulled that task off successfully last year.

The thing is, excited as I was, I had also been planning on writing my Defence essay last night. Now, there wasn’t a hope in the world. The rest of the day would be taken up planning, decorating, and partying. To drop out of any of these things for homework would be like signing my own death warrant. So I put it to the back of my mind, and joined my friends �“ my real, wonderful friends �“ in the First Snow fever.

It was all worth it, too. Everybody had an amazing time, we all ate, danced and laughed to much avail. Iola and I avoided most of the stronger drinkies, preferring to stick to pumpkin juice and butterbeer, but the Marauders all had their respectable amount �“ even Remus, who I never had down for much of a drinker. But James laughed when I pointed this out, and said that “Moony-Moony Two Shoes” gives himself one night off a year from being righteous.

All four each woke up with “the worst hangover I’ve ever had, ever”, although Iola tells me that this is the case for every hangover they get. All the same, I felt too guilty to ignore them in the morning in favour of my Defence essay, so instead I supported them through their time of trouble (Madam Pomfrey refusing to help them) and put the essay to the back of my mind once again.

It was only when lunchtime rolled around that my conscience finally convinced me to depart for the Library �“ very nastily, of course.

And so, here I am. Iola came and joined me, for some peace and quiet, and to finish her own essay (she started it a few nights ago while James and I were on patrol �“ how James is going to get out of it, I have no idea).

Time is running thin. I will have to do my own pet hate, and enlarge my writing so that I can make the conclusion fit. I write the final sentence with a conveniently large flourish, and begin rolling up the parchment.

“Wow, Lily, that’s low,” Iola says, grabbing the essay before I can stuff it into my bag. She laughs as I make a grab to retrieve it. “Making your writing obviously big �“ I didn’t think you had it in you.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever, carry it for me if you really want to. We’re going to be late, we’ll have to run, so if you’re offering one less thing for me to carry, then �“”

“All right, all right, have your ridiculous essay,” she laughs, thrusting it back at me. I smile triumphantly, but we are then thrown out by Madam Pince for being too loud, and I have no time to argue my case of defence. We run to Defence Against the Dark Arts, giggling like twelve year olds all the way.

As you can undoubtedly see, since the two months that have passed since the deaths of the Mr Potters, things have restored themselves to normality. Although I occasionally catch Iola sobbing on her own, and there’s been an increase in depressing poetry being written and stuck on her bedposts lately. And sometimes James will have a sudden fit of anger that will last all of about five minutes, or he’ll brood on his own for an evening. But mostly everyone is getting on with their lives as they did before �“ there’s no time to grieve any more, and it seems pointless when half of the school is in the same boat.

Anyway, James just so happens not to attend this particular Defence lesson. The rest of the Marauders insist to Professor Von Fry that he was called away on family duties because his hamster got sick. He’s a new teacher this year, but I doubt poor Professor Von Fry will make it for a second year of teaching. His nervous disposition has gotten worse ever since he met the Marauders in September, so by July I predict he will have to be carted out in a straight jacket, sobbing that no one will “hush” for him any more (he yells “Hush, children!” at us at least five times a lesson, you see, but not to much effect).

The last few lessons of the day go by smoothly enough, considering it is the last day of term. Did I not mention that? Well, it is. That’s probably why the First Snow party was so enthusiastically carried out last night. As well as being our last ever, it almost didn’t happen �“ we were worried everyone would go home before a flake descended, so that made it all the more enjoyable.

We do a survey of the Common Room in the evening, finding out how many people are staying for the holidays. Sirius and Iola stay every year anyway, and Remus and Peter decided they wanted to this year as well. It was unsure whether or not James would go home to his poor grieving mother, but she owled to say that she was spending the holiday at her sister’s, so he could stay here if he wanted to, as she appreciated that it may not be his idea of fun away from his friends. Not wanting to miss anything exciting, I decided to stay as well. After all, I would only have to endure Petunia and Dursley if I went home, and it’s a little more than I could handle.

Around five others from various years turn out to be staying as well. L.O.V.E don’t bother even answering our survey, but we knew they weren’t staying anyway �“ we are only asking to see whether they’d bother acknowledging our presence. Iola and I have had to put up with all their plans for the holiday away from “this dump” every single night this week.

Apparently, Eve is going to a different party every night (somehow I doubt this is true, as I happen to know she lives in the sleepiest town in the world, and she will undoubtedly spend her time wishing she was somewhere else). Valerie is going to Christmas Eve and New Year’s parties with her brothers, and practising Quidditch the rest of the time. She also plans on going on three mile runs across countryside every day. I am less sure of Ophelia’s plans, but as far as I can tell, she will be hearing all about her sister’s perfect life, and feeling sorry for herself.

I’d rather be at Hogwarts with the Marauders and Iola any day �“ none of these plans sound riveting to me, although L.O.V.E have been making out that it will be Fortnight Of The Century.

“So what are our plans, now we know how many people there’ll be?” asks Peter, as we settle down in our usual armchairs by the roaring fire. No one moves.

Remus thoughtfully says, “Perhaps we could do something about House unity. That second year was the only one staying in his year, and the same for that fourth year girl. No one deserves to be alone on Christmas, right? We’re all Gryffindors together, right? We should do something nice for them. Right?”

“I’m up for that,” I say, nodding enthusiastically. Who wants to be lonely at Christmas? I imagine spending my time with Petunia parading up and down wearing salmon coloured dresses, and listening to Mum fuss, Dursley drone (as he would be invited along most days, I’m sure) and Petunia twitter. I shudder.

“Sure,” James agrees, and I come back to sweet, sweet reality. “A bit of team spirit never hurt anybody. What should we do?”

“Party!” Sirius cries, in a high girly voice, clapping his hands together.

“Well, obviously,” says Iola, “but what else?”

“Else?” asks Peter, grinning, and we laugh.

“Well, we should organise a big inter-house snowball fight. And an inter-gender snowball fight. And an inter-age snowball fight. And a free for all snowball fight,” James suggests, and we all nod.

“Hang on,” says Remus. “Isn’t inter-age a little unfair?”

“No,” James reasons. “Not if it’s the seventh years against the rest of the ENTIRE school. Those midgets are small, but they’re vicious.”

“Oh, all right. What else do you think?” asks Remus.

“Party!” Sirius squeals again, jumping up and down on his seat.

“Well, obviously there’ll be a party every chance we get,” Iola says, to stop Sirius’s high pitched shrieking with joy. “But we’ll have to do more than just party and attack each other with snowballs.”

“Why?” asks Peter. “What else is there to do?”

I consider the question along with everybody else. “Have a snowman competition?” I suggest. “Making them as creative as possible?”

“I like your style,” James says, pensively. “Yes, indeed.”

“And then can we have a party?” Sirius asks, and James throws one of the cushions from the armchairs at him.

And so, that really is how we spend our time over the holidays �“ for the first few days, at least. I don’t remember ever having this much fun before �“ we manage to win the inter-house snowball fights with our surprising wit and agility (as Sirius calls it). And the inter-house snowman competition. And the inter-house sledge race. And the inter-house snow angel competition. And the inter-house igloo competition. And every other inter-house event that we take it upon ourselves to plan. And even if we didn’t win everything (although we do) we’re still perfectly capable of having fun ourselves.

By the time Christmas rolls around, there is so much Gryffindor House unity that I find myself sneaking out to Hogsmeade with Iola a couple of days before the big day to buy small gifts for all the other Gryffindors we’ve got to know so well. We make the Marauders chip in as well, and write “With love from the Gryffindor Seventh Years (the good ones, that is)” on the tags. My heart is swelling at my own generosity.

We wake up on Christmas morning in the Common Room rather than our beds, after an impromptu Christmas Eve sleepover. It is first year Jimmy Higgins who wakes us up, by singing an enthusiastic rendition of Winter Wonderland, in a loud, piercing voice, that reminds me much of Petunia’s, which is strange seeing as how he is an eleven year old boy.

We all do the usual present opening bit, and I am reasonably pleased with my haul this year �“ although my darling sister’s plastic yellow ring looks like she got it free from a girl’s magazine. However, I notice a certain lack of a gift from Iola, which makes me uneasy. Especially since I spent hours searching for something for her (I eventually settled on a book of illustrated poetry by witches through the centuries, since creating her own is a favourite pastime). I mean, I even get something from Peter, from Remus �“ the two Marauders who, though I like them, I know least. Stop complaining, Lily, you could be with L.O.V.E right now! Think of what you escaped, and be thankful for that! Good point.

Us Gryffindor brood head downstairs to Breakfast, where I receive a Merry Christmas card from my parents, which only makes me feel mildly guilty. We have the usual Christmas morning merriment, and Dumbledore makes a very empowering speech for so early in the morning. Not even McGonagall can bring herself to frown at the sight she beholds �“ her own House having fun together, despite the wide spread of ages, perfectly at ease, and perfectly united. Not even Hufflepuff look this happy. It’s nice to be able to forget the world outside for a while, and we vow not to read a newspaper all day, for fear it will dampen the mood.

When breakfast is over, Iola drags me away from our comrades, saying, “Come on, Lils, we’ve more important things to do.”

“Like what?” I ask, utterly confused. What could be more important that spending Christmas with our friends? Certainly nothing I can think of right now.

“It’s time for your present,” she says. Oh. Well, obviously that’s just as important too.

Although, as we begin to leave the castle, I begin to get a little unsure. “Hey, Iola, where exactly are we going?”

“That would be telling,” she says, smirking in an annoyingly smug manner.

“Well, yes, it would, but that’s no reason not to,” I reply, but know it will get me nowhere. I hate having to wait for things when I don’t know what they are. For all I know, we could be headed to an “I Love Spam” convention, and I will be expected to be thrilled. I just can’t take this kind of suspense in my life! But then we reach the forest, and Iola shows no inclination that she is planning on stopping any time soon.

When I demand to know where we are headed, she says nothing. Of course.

“Look, it’s not that I’m not thrilled we are heading to the forest, but �“ well. Okay, it is that I’m not thrilled we are heading into the forest. Do you not remember my track record with this place? Do you not remember how when I ventured in here last year, I met my worst fear and nearly died?” I cry, desperately, grabbing her arm and forcing her to halt for a moment.

Her eyes sparkle. “Exactly,” she says. And then pauses, and adds, “Except for the part about you nearly dying, that’s not true. That’s you being melodramatic.”

“I’m not melodramatic!” I protest. She raises an eyebrow at my outburst, and then turns round and continues walking. I have no choice but to follow �“ there’s no way I’m heading back on my own.

Eventually, we reach a clearing.

I let out a vulgar word of Anglo-Saxon origins, and turn to leave.

Iola grabs my arm to stop me, much as I did to her, earlier. “Don’t be so pathetic, Lily, just hear me out, will you?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! This is your chance to get over your biggest fear! You could be horse riding again on your childhood friend Trix by tomorrow! You wouldn’t have to be so afraid any more!”

I turn, and snap, “We gave Trix away to another family, and she died three years after! I don’t want to go horse riding again! The thought makes me want to kill myself! The thought of you suggesting it makes me want to kill you! Haven’t you ever heard of the phrase “Don’t meddle in things you don’t understand”? Don’t you realise that it will take more than some quality time with a wussy centaur called Hallead to fix this? Don’t you understand any of that?”

Said wussy centaur called Hallead steps in, and says, “Excuse me, Miss, but may I remind you that horses and centaurs are completely different �“”

“Shut up, you said you owed me a favour and part of the deal was that you would help me help my friend get over her fears, no matter what it took. Well, it won’t take unnecessary comments like that, all right?” Iola hisses at him, and he shrugs. She turns desperately to me. “Lily, please. You didn’t want me leaving things unsaid with my Dad, and so you went behind my back and sent that letter. Well maybe I don’t want you spending your life afraid of something that you don’t need to be afraid of, so I’ve gone behind your back, and arranged for Hallead here to try and help you. Will you give him a chance, already?”

I am shocked. How dare she? “You can’t put what I did in the same boat as what you’re doing! If I hadn’t done that, you would never have known that your father still loved you before he died! All you’re doing is stirring up really bad stuff that is better left alone! It’s completely different!”

We are both yelling at this point. “No it’s not! No, Lily, it’s not. Because what you did, in a roundabout way, helped me. And what I’m doing, in a roundabout way, is helping you. So yes �“ they’re different situations, but they are in ‘the same boat’, as you called it. Now would you stop being so pedantic, and just do this for me?”

I give in, if only on the grounds that “pedantic” is a pretty swish word, if you know what I mean. The sort of word you pronounce with pride. Instead of saying this, which would have made me look more than a little weird, I say, “Fine.” And then cross my arms defensively.

“Good. And I’ll be right here, okay?” she says, calming down considerably.

“All right, fine!” I say snappily. Hallead gulps.

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” he asks, eyeing us feisty teenage girls a little warily �“ he’s the Flitwick of the Centaur world, it seems, and I doubt he relishes the idea of helping an overly emotional teenager get over her fears. But Iola gives him a very commanding look, and he holds up his palms reluctantly. “Okay, fine. Where do you want to start?”

“How about with the fact that she finds the very thought of horses terrifying? That is, after all, why we’re here,” Iola points out.

“All right, so what is it about �“ um, creatures of an equine nature that makes you so uneasy?” he asks, and I note that he avoids the word “horses” at all costs.

“Everything,” I say. Can I just note, that him being here is making my heart beat faster, my breath quicken, and my forehead prickle with sweat, even though I am perfectly aware that he is harmless? Iola’s right. It’s not healthy. “Mostly ... mostly the noise they make,” I say, sighing.

“Oh. Neighing? I’m afraid that I’m not very good at that sort of thing ... I’m only equine on the bottom half, you know,” he says, thoughtfully.

I shake my head. “No. Not neighing. The hooves ... on the ground ... they take me straight back to Trix running away after I fell, leaving me there. I can’t stand it.”

No one says anything for a moment. “Well, you know how to defeat Boggarts don’t you?” Iola asks, eventually.

“Sure,” I say, frowning, “Laughter.”

“Well,” says Iola excitedly, the way you do when you get a great idea, “Well Boggarts are basically just fear. If the same concept is applied ... you need to be able to laugh at it.”

“Laugh at trotting noises? How am I supposed to do that?” I ask, forgetting my fear for a moment as I think. It’s then that I realise how much I want to get over this ... and if Iola’s plan works ... Merlin. It would make my year �“ and it’s been a pretty eventful year, too.

She leans up towards Hallead and whispers something I do not hear. He cringes, begins to protest, but then she mentions that he promised to help, and he sighs reluctantly.

And begins to sing and tap dance.

At first the hoof noises almost make me hyperventilate, but then I realise how ridiculous he looks singing a fast, energetic song about goblins, and tap dancing badly along with it, his legs flying everywhere and making him look completely ludicrous.

Iola laughs, and he begins to as well, a nervous chuckle. And then, despite my instincts telling me to turn and flee, or possibly faint outright, I also begin to chuckle. I’ve never seen anything quite so ridiculous looking in my whole life. And it’s as if a weight is lifted straight off my shoulders.

We leave the forest an hour later, our sides aching, and our minds full of memories of Hallead making a fool of himself with various tap dance routines �“ quite a sight, I can assure you. And then his parting words, which really got through to me. “Thank you for a lovely time, Miss Lily,” he told me, smiling. “I hope I’ve helped you, because, surprisingly, you’ve helped me, too. I know I can be a cowardly centaur, but today you made me forget that. Do come and visit me sometime �“ I’ve never really felt like I am truly part of the herd, it would be nice to make contacts outside the forest �“ yes, you must come and visit me sometime.” He said all this with a wistful, far away expression on his face. And then, much to my alarm, he reached down and hugged me.

I need to thank Iola. The Christmas presents from L.O.V.E were always perfumes, make up, or jewellery, and I never wore any of it. But what Iola did for me ... well. The thought of “equines” doesn’t make me want to faint or be sick any more, because when I think of them, I think of my new friend, and how much fun we had just now. I need to thank her, really, but things like that are so hard to say ... especially when I wasn’t exactly in support of her decision earlier. Just say it, Lily, before we reach the castle, before we get caught up in other things! She deserves to know that you truly appreciate it, just say it now before you get distracted, and then �“

A snowball hits me on the back of the head, and I hear the Ravenclaw war cry. James tears past asking where we’ve been, but we don’t have time to reply, we just duck down and begin scooping snow into a sphere. As Iola jumps up, hits the Ravenclaw culprit with alarming accuracy, and lets out the Gryffindor war cry, I realise that I’ll have to thank her later, in the Dorm, before we go to sleep. But it can wait. Because right now there’s a ferret-like first year Slytherin hiding behind a tree, just waiting for me to turn round so he can get the back of my head, and I need to find a way to outsmart him �“ I’m not losing a snow-duel with a first year Slytherin, not unless I want to spend the rest of the day being mercilessly ridiculed by the bunch of oddballs I call my friends.

But you know what? It’s becoming increasingly clear that these oddballs are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, as cheesy as it sounds, and I wouldn’t swap any of them for all the gold in Gringotts.

No time for sentiments, Lily �“ just pelt the little weasel!

*~*~*

AN: Hooray! As you may (or may not) have noticed, the end is within sight. All this happiness is a dead giveaway, is it not? But don’t worry �“ there are a couple of bumps to keep you entertained before we finish up. And also as you may (or may not) have noticed, the Centaur Hallead is the same one from chapter two! The one who was being bullied by that nasty one, I mean. Please review, I’ll love you for it! Also, I have a new fic-related Live Journal, the link is in my author’s bio ... check it out, if you have a spare five minutes! =D

Chapter 14: Hogsmeade Has A Sweetshop. How Can It Be Bad?

I continue to visit Hallead two or three times a week. I often can’t believe how far I seem to have come with this fear of horses thing �“ and I say so to him, one day, as we sit in our usual clearing, me leaning against a tree, him sitting on the ground, regally.

“Well, Miss Lily, it is not surprising you feel you are no longer afraid of ... equine related beings, when you and I can have such civilised conversations.”

“You’re right there,” I say, “In fact, sometimes it feels like you’re the only person I can have a civilised conversation with. Iola is still cut up about her Dad, whatever she says, and it’s making her so much more wild these days. Which, of course, James and Sirius only encourage. I wish they wouldn’t. Especially James. I mean, I can tell her she needs to calm down until I’m blue in the face, but she won’t listen to me, and I end up feeling like a twittering old woman. All it would take is a couple of well chosen words from James, and she’d start to be more controlled, but it’s like he doesn’t want her to. Sirius isn’t much help, either. Remus couldn’t help her if he tried, and Peter probably hasn’t noticed. It’s like I’m the only one who really cares about her feelings. I just wish there was more I could do, you know?”

Hallead listens to my ranting placidly, without much comment. It’s only when I slow down a little that he decides to speak up.

“Have you spoken to this James, about your worries?” he asks.

“Huh?” I say, intelligently.

“Well, you say all it would take is a few words from him �“ but how will he know your concerns if you don’t tell him?”

“He ... he wouldn’t listen to me, even if I did tell him. He’ll just go, ‘Stop worrying and have some fun, Lily, it’s not like we have exams coming up this summer or anything ridiculous like that!’” I say, putting on an overly exaggerated James voice.

“Well,” Hallead says, “Maybe, for the sake of Miss Iola, you should give it a go.”

I look up at him. He gives a small, encouraging smile. I sigh. “All right. I’ll talk to him about it next time we’re on patrol. Okay? Now what’s going on with you? How are the herd treating you?”

He looks away. “I am, as ever, an outsider, I’m afraid, Miss Lily. They do not take to the idea of centaurs befriending humans in a personal manner, they believe what is separate should be kept that way. But I am used to ridicule �“ I have put up with it my whole life.” My overprotective worrying seems suddenly stupid compared to being rejected by your kind, and I feel awful.

“What if I spoke to them? Let them see how ridiculous they’re being?”

But Hallead swiftly looks alarmed, “No, please, you must never �“ they would not �“ you cannot �“ promise me you won’t, Miss Lily! Promise me you won’t go and talk to them, they will not understand!”

“All right, all right, I promise!” I cry, a little panicked. Yeesh.

“Thank you, Miss Lily,” he says, breathing deeply. That poor guy. It must be horrible for him.

I decide to talk to James tonight.

I leave the forest not long after that, knowing that I need to get some work done before patrol tonight �“ and my plan to talk to James.

There isn’t much work that’s particularly hard, and although I have to endure Iola and James’s loud laughter as they do something pointless, when they should really be using their time to work, the time goes by quickly. Eventually, I pack my things in my bag, head up to the dorm to put it by my bed, and go back downstairs.

“Hey, James, we have to be going,” I say, folding my arms and tossing my hair, as he and Iola play a game of Gobstones which is far too raucous for my liking.

“What’s that?” he asks, looking up, bemused. One of Iola’s Gobstones suddenly sprays him in the face with the awful smelling liquid that he should really have been prepared for. Iola shrieks with laughter as he jumps up, and wipes it out of his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Patrol, James. You know, what we’re required to do, being looked upon as responsible and all that.”

“Oh, right, I’ll just get my cloak.” He lightly jogs over to the boys staircase, and disappears up it.

“Are you okay, Lily? You seem kind of tense,” Iola says, standing up and brushing herself down with dignity.

“Fine,” I snap. Her face looks hurt, and I say, “Sorry. It’s just, sometimes it feels like you’re ... well, it’s just ...”

She frowns. “What?”

“Well, I know you guys hate me bringing it up, but we have exams soon, and I really think you and James should be studying!” I say, all in a rush, and not looking her in the eye.

“Is that all? Oh, Lily, you know I’m on top of things. I won’t get behind, I promise.” She puts her arm round me encouragingly, but I’m not convinced.

James comes bounding back downstairs, and we head out of the portrait hole as cheerfully as can be expected, with me in my state of Worrier’s Syndrome, and him probably wishing he didn’t have to go through such a bother.

We walk in easy companionship for a while, neither of us bothering to say anything. We shoo some First Years away to their houses, and catch some Third Years trying to sneak outside, but nothing particularly exciting happens.

What are you doing, Lily, you’re supposed to be talking to him about Iola! Have you lost all use of your voice box? Get a move on, or you’ll miss your chance! All right. No more stalling. Any second now ...

“James?” I say.

“Lily?” he begins, at the exactly the same time. We sort of laugh nervously, and he says, “You go first.”

I gulp. Now or never. “James, I was wondering ... had you noticed anything, um, undesirable about Iola’s behaviour recently?”

“Excuse me?” he asks, completely baffled.

“She’s been so restless lately, so ... it’s like she’s going kind of wild. A loose cannon, if I want to sound like my mother. I think it’s her Dad, you know? Before, she used to make up for her horrible home life by being really outgoing and fun loving at school, and I think ... well, maybe she’s trying to do the same thing now he’s gone, except she’s sort of ... she’s taking it too far, she’s slowly going out of control. In fact, I think it’s been like that for a while, we just never realised it. We were having so much fun ourselves over Christmas and stuff, that it never occurred to us it might not be the best thing for her. She needs stability. And I was worried you hadn’t noticed, worried you were encouraging her ...”

“Lily,” he says, shaking his head. “Of course I’ve noticed. I care about her too, you know, and I’m well aware of what’s going on. But you have to be subtle with Iola, or she’ll think you’re against her, and she won’t listen to a word you say. Trust me, without me guiding her, she’d be a lot worse.”

Wait ... huh? I wasn’t expecting that. “How do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean, that when normally she might fly off the handle completely, I’ve been keeping her steady. It looks like I’m going along with her, but if I didn’t, then I assure you, she really would be out of control.”

“So ...” I say slowly, my brain trying to understand. “So, you’re helping her?”

“Yes,” he says patiently. “I’m helping her.”

“Oh. Well, couldn’t you talk to her? Like, tell her you’re worried about her and stuff? If anyone can say something to make her realise what’s happening, it’s you,” I insist.

James sighs. “Lily, do you know what day it is tomorrow?” he asks.

“Saturday,” I say, baffled.

“Well done. What’s the date?”

“Um ... the fifteenth?” I say, a little unsurely. As if I have time to remember the date these days!

“And what month is that?” he prompts, but not in a patronising way.

“Um. February?” I offer.

“And, Lily, what does that make today?”

“Friday, fourteenth of Febru... Holy cow.”

“Indeed. Did you really not know?”

“Why on earth would I remember?” I ask, sharply. Valentine’s Day has been the last thing on my mind.

“I dunno,” he mumbles, looking away. “You might have got something from an admirer.”

“Oh please,” I say, laughing. “Somehow I doubt it!”

“Lily, will you come to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?”

“Yes, of course. Wait, what?” But he is already throwing his arms around me, thrilled. How did THAT just happen? Did I really agree to go to Hogsmeade on the Saturday closest to Valentine’s Day with the boy I didn’t even like until a few months ago? Who, in fact, I absolutely hated every molecule of until a few months ago?

“Thank you so much, Lily!” he says, finally releasing me, and beaming from ear to ear. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN??

“That’s fine!” I squeak, when really my conscience is screaming blue murder at me.

But maybe it won’t be so bad.

How can you say that? Don’t you remember how much you HATED him? How you bring out the absolute worst in each other, because you’re both so stubborn and have such quick tempers? Don’t you remember any of that??

But when we’re together, we sort of bring out the best in each other, too.

WHAT???

Well, it’s true.

WHY ARE YOU SAYING THESE THINGS???

You know what? I’m sick of arguing with my freaking conscience in my head.

“I look forward to it,” I tell James, truthfully. I do. I like James now, we get along. Why should the past matter anymore?

You’re crazy.

That’s highly probable.

We finish our rounds in record time, because James is practically skipping in excitement, and it’s hard to keep up. Most people have gone to bed by now, and before we part our separate ways, James hugs me again, and I have to squeal at him to let go before I suffocate. I’m starting to think that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. But how could I change my mind when he’s looking forward to it so damn much?

The next morning, I wake up to the sound of my ridiculous alarm clock. It won’t stop ringing, so eventually I have to throw it across the room in annoyance.

I hear a shriek, and Valerie’s voice screams, “What are trying to do, Lily, freaking KILL me?”

Chance would be a fine thing, my grumpy conscience mutters. “Of course not, Valerie,” I say instead, rubbing my eyes. It’s too early to get into a slanging match, I feel. Looking around, I see that the bathroom door is locked (Ophelia, I’m sure), but Iola and Eve are both asleep. My eyes slide to the window, which is suspiciously dark. “Hey, Valerie, what time is it?” I ask.

“How should I know?” she asks, icily, banging on the bathroom door. “Lia, SOME OF US HAVE SHOWERS TO TAKE!!”

“Um, Valerie, I just threw a clock at you,” I point out, ignoring her yelling as much as Ophelia seems to be.

“What are you talking about now?” she snaps, turning round to me.

“TIME!” I shriek, and Eve groggily sits up.

“Why is everybody yelling?” she asks.

“It’s seven,” Valerie informs me, throwing the alarm clock at me with worrying accuracy, so I have to duck down to avoid it hitting me on the head.

“IN THE MORNING? ON A SATURDAY?” I shriek. What is wrong with my stupid alarm clock? Sirius said he’d put a spell on it, so that it would go off at an appropriate time each day �“ just before lessons start on week days, and just before lunch starts at the weekends. Oh, right. Sirius said this. That’s pretty much solid evidence that he’d done the opposite.

“Yes, in the morning, and yes, on a Saturday. Jeez, Lily, stop yelling at everybody,” Valerie says, sneering a little. She immediately turns around and starts banging on the bathroom door again. “LIA YOU HALF-WIT, EVERYBODY HATES YOU AND YOU’RE USING ALL THE WATER UP! I NEED A SHOWER!!”

“No kidding,” says Iola, yawning and sitting up. She is thrown looks of pure evil from every body present except me. “What time is it?” she asks.

We all reply instantaneously with, “Seven.”

“IN THE MORNING?” Iola then cries.

“My sentiments exactly,” I tell her.

“Screw that,” she says, pulling the covers over her head and going back to sleep.

I blink for a few seconds. “Now why didn’t I just do that?” I think aloud, before flopping down, and drifting back off to sleep, Valerie hurling insults at Ophelia through the bathroom door in the background.

Three hours later, I wake up again, feeling much better refreshed. I roll out of bed onto the floor, where I appear to be face to face with my alarm clock. For a moment, I wonder why, but then I remember the events of this morning. The face now reads ten o’clock. Something tells me I have somewhere to be ... “Bugger,” I say, under my breath.

“IOLA GET UP!” I yell, as I run past her bed into the bathroom.

“Wha?” I hear her mumble. My shower takes all of two minutes, before I grab a towel and rush back into the dorm to get dressed, Iola already running past me, saying something I don’t quite catch, but it seems to rhyme quite well with “Oh, spit, not again.”

I manage to find some half decent clothes that I won’t freeze in, right at the bottom of my trunk, and it doesn’t take long to make my hair and face semi-presentable. As Iola rushes out of the bathroom to get changed she asks me, “So why are you in a hurry?”

Uh oh. “I kind of ... um ... I sort of agreed to ... James and I have a date.”

“So do me and Sirius,” she says, incredulously.

I suddenly feel an overwhelming panic. “They didn’t ... they wouldn’t ... not another bet?” I ask, shocked.

“They wouldn’t dare,” Iola says, in a horrified voice. We both think about this statement for a moment, and what we would do to them if it turned out to be true.

“You’re absolutely right!” I sigh, with relief. “They wouldn’t dare!”

And with that, I go careering out of the dorm, and down several staircases and corridors until I reach the Entrance Hall, where Sirius and James are standing around awkwardly. James looks relieved to see me, but Sirius just looks even more worried.

“Don’t worry, she’s coming,” I assure him. “We both overslept a bit.”

“See, I told you that would be it!” James tells him, shoving him a little.

“What are you, kidding? Just a minute ago you were suggesting we should “Rally the House Elves” into helping us storm the girls’ dormitories.”

“There might have been a hurricane,” he says to his feet, blushing bright red. I snort with laughter.

“Come on, let’s go. Unless you want us to wait with you, Sirius ...?” He shakes his head, eyes wide, and I smile, and give him a quick hug. “Good luck,” I whisper. He nods, eyes still wide.

James and I leave for Hogsmeade happily, although he is still pretty embarrassed looking. It’s almost cute. What’s happened to you, Lily? my conscience asks at this last thought. I have no idea.

But it’s fun in Hogsmeade with James. Awkward, I guess, but fun. We go to Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks, we even spend a little time in Zonko’s. We avoid Madam Puddifoot’s by whatever means necessary, and it turns out we both have a deep abiding hate for the place. Probably because James is a guy, and I have spent far too long in there, accompanying Eve on dates. Well, not accompanying, exactly. Ophelia, Valerie and I would get a table of our own a little distance away from Eve and her current boyfriend’s. Those times make me shudder, especially around Valentine’s Day.

When we’ve run out of non-tacky places to go, we decide to take a walk up to the Shrieking Shack.

“At least we know that no one else will be there,” James reasons, as we begin the trek up the hill. “What with it being haunted and everything.”

“Yeah, okay, Potter,” I tease, “I’m fully aware of what exactly you get up to each month in that damned shack.”

“Fully aware, huh?” he asks, waggling his eyebrows around a bit, and nudging me with his elbow, suggestively.

“Well, unless what we thought about you four was true all along ...” I tease back.

“What’s that, Evans? That we’re all devilishly handsome?”

I grin. “If you consider your male friends devilishly handsome, then that only confirms what �“”

“Ssssh!” James suddenly says, clapping a hand over my mouth. And my comment was going to be so hilarious as well.

“What?” I ask, but, of course, it sounds more like a muffled grunt.

“I think someone’s here,” he breaths, dramatically.

“Who?” I ask, but, again, it’s more like a muffled grunt.

“Will you be quiet? I’m trying to see.”

“Well, maybe if you would let go of �“” I begin to muffled-grunt, but he shushes me again, only more urgently, and I sigh, reluctantly, his hand still covering my mouth.

“Wait a minute ...” he says, peering over to where there is apparently “someone”.

“What?” I ask, thoroughly bored of my muffled grunt routine.

“That’s ... that’s Iola and Sirius!” he says, in a shocked voice.

No way. “Lemme see!” I squeal, jumping up so that I can see better. His hand drops to his side. He’s right.

Iola and Sirius are leaning against the fence holding hands and �“ well, you can imagine.

“Maybe that will help her stay stable,” I say, laughing.

“It’s not funny, Lily, she’s like my sister!” he protests. “How would you feel if you saw your sister making out with your best friend?”

“I’d need counselling for the rest of my life, but then again, my sister is a scary, salmon pink loving, skinny, tall, blonde, scraggy girl, and my best friend is Iola, who as you can see, seems to be quite adept at �“”

“Not helping!” James snaps at me, and I laugh again.

“Sorry,” I say, trying to be serious. “But it’s just so funny. Your ears are all pink.”

“Let’s go,” he says gruffly, turning around and heading in the other direction. I scamper after him.

“James, come on! Don’t be so ... we’ve had a great day, and Iola can look after herself,” I tell him, and hope to Merlin that it’s true. What am I saying? Of course it’s true, Sirius is fine, she loves Sirius. “Hey wait a minute,” I say, realisation hitting me.

“What?” James demands, snapping out of his protective sibling state to look baffled at the urgency in my voice. Ridiculous, really, when Iola is his cousin, not his sister at all.

“Sirius has grey eyes, doesn’t he?” I ask.

“Um ... yeah,” James admits, still sounding bemused.

“And a wicked smile that’s never for her ...” I breath.

“Eh?” asks James, the image of linguistics.

“Iola’s poems! They’re all about unrequited love! Of a boy with grey eyes, and a wicked smile that’s never for her! I can’t believe I never realised! If anyone’s smile is wicked, it’s Sirius’s, right?”

“What are you saying?” asks James.

“Her poetry is about SIRIUS!” I cry, not quite believing it.

“Well, yes, but what are you trying to say?” asks James, not understanding at all.

“She’s in love with Sirius! Always has been!” I tell him, incredulously.

“I know that, but what are you �“ wait, did you only just figure that out?” Now he looks incredulous too, but for different reasons, I suspect.

“I can’t believe I never realised before!”

“Neither can I, everybody knew that, you strange, backward girl,” James says, shaking his head. I can’t help it if I have trouble seeing things that are right before my eyes.

“Well, then what I said will be true,” I tell him, happily. “Sirius will help her to be stable again, this is what she’s always wanted! Don’t be mad at Sirius, James, be grateful to him! Now they’re together, Iola will be fine, she’ll have everything she needs to stay sane!”

“Do you think so?” James asks, looking unsure. Instead of replying I jump up, throw my arms around his neck, and hug him so hard the breath is knocked out of him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though.

He carefully lets go of me, holding me at arms length. I am suddenly sure that he is going to kiss me. Do I want him to? I have no idea.

Don’t do anything you don’t want to, my conscience tells me, quite nicely I think. I mean, I like James, but do I like him that much, and in that way? I don’t know.

Three girls walk past, but neither of us seem to notice, until one of them says in a voice which is all too familiar, “Lia, Val, it looks like Lily and James are about to get it on. I never knew one person could stoop so low. Didn’t they hate each other at one point?”

And we break eye contact, to turn our heads towards Eve. Valerie and Ophelia flank her like particularly unthreatening bodyguards.

“Scram, or I’ll put you all in detention!” James snaps at them. “Or maybe we’ll turn you multicoloured again, would you like that?”

Eve tosses her hair, blows him a sarcastic kiss, and saunters off, her cronies not far behind.

James takes my hand, but the moment is lost. “I’m sorry,” I say, before turning and fleeing as far as I can. I bump into L.O.V.E (the Perfects, I mean, sorry) on my way out of Hogsmeade. I’m sure they say something wonderfully witty and original, but I don’t stick around to hear it.

My first thought is to find Iola, but then I remember that she is with Sirius �“ which rules him out, too. My next thought in my state of distress, I’m sad to say, is to find James. But that’s out of the question completely. Remus and Peter I like very much, but I just couldn’t go to them in an hour of need.

That leaves one person.

Running calms me down a little. It’s cold, but if I keep going, keep heading back towards Hogwarts, maybe by the time I arrive I will have sorted my thoughts out, maybe things will make more sense.

I run through the gates, past the lake, and towards the edge of the forest. I don’t stop when I reach the edge, but I am forced to slow down to a brisk walk. Not very far in, I bump into Hagrid, who is helping along a rough looking centaur.

Oh my ... that’s Hallead! That’s my Hallead!

“What happened?” I cry, completely distressed.

Hagrid grunts dismissively, but Hallead looks up at me. “Miss Lily ... it’s nothing ... I’m fine ... really ... don’t worry about me ... what’s wrong with you? Are those tears?”

I realise with a start that they are, and brush them away, frustrated. “Nothing time won’t heal,” I tell him, firmly. “Hallead, what happened?”

“Oh ... it’s nothing ...”

“It ain’t nothin’,” spits Hagrid, picking up the pace again. I walk alongside.

“What happened, Hagrid?” I ask, since Hallead doesn’t seem to want to bother me with his troubles.

“His herd ’ave got rid, that’s what’s ’appened, Lily,” he says with disgust. “An’ not in the friendliest of ways,” he adds, and I notice that not only is poor Hallead bruised and battered, but he’s walking with a bit of a limp.

“But why?” I demand, desperately. I’ve never seen Hagrid in such a foul mood.

“Why do y’ think? He was consorting wi’ humans, weren’t he? One in particular he go’ close to, it seems. They didn’t like ’im as it was, they’d ’ave used any excuse to kick ’im out!”

“One human in particular? Are you saying this is my fault?” I ask, my voice cracking.

“He’s not saying that at all, Miss Lily,” Hallead tries to tell me, but Hagrid lets out a dry laugh that interrupts his words.

“But I didn’t want this to happen!” I protest, distraught. We leave the forest, and turn towards Hagrid’s hut.

“Maybe not,” Hagrid says. “But that’s not really enough, is it?” He suddenly stops looking so bitter, and sighs, giving me a weak smile. “Oh, Lily, I can’t blame yer really. It was always goin’ to ’appen. I think yer jus’ kicked it all off, that’s all. He’ll be all righ’, probably ’ave a whale of a time away from ’em ... see yer later, Lily.”

I stop, and Hagrid hurries away from me, helping along a limping Hallead as he goes.

I told you not to meddle in things you don’t understand. Now look what’s happened.

But I didn’t mean it to.

You never do.

A tear rolls down my cheek. Good point.

*~*~*

AN: Poor Hallead ... poor Lily. This is the last but one chapter! *Sobs quietly* I hate coming to the end of fics I love writing ... So, spare my pain for a moment, and tell me what you think! There’s a lovely little review box awaiting your words ...

Chapter 15: There’s A Difference Between Love And L.O.V.E

“I want to speak to James,” I say.

“Okay ... but does he want to speak to you?”

I pause. “Way to make me feel better, Remus. I love you too.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he insists, “I genuinely don’t know what happened.”

“Haven’t you been listening?” I burst out, angrily. Honestly, what is wrong with boys?

He sighs, wearily. “Yes. It’s just that you haven’t said anything coherent yet.”

I pause for a second or two. “Be quiet. Where’s Peter, anyway?”

“I don’t know, still in Hogsmead, I think. Probably with the ‘J’ word.”

“Jogging club? I know he’s a queer little being, but I never thought that jogging was his sort of thing,” I say, smiling half heartedly. At least I still have a sense of humour, despite running away from what could have been the beginning of my new life, and then finding out that my favourite centaur was kicked out of his herd because of me, and I still don’t know what will happen to him.

Oh, wait. There it goes.

“Let’s review,” Remus says. “Where were you before you came and found me?”

I sigh. “Hogsmeade. With James. We’d just seen Sirius and Iola making with the smoochies, and �“”

“What? Sirius and Iola? Finally?”

I stare at him, incredulously. How many people knew about this? I mean, aside from James, who you would sort of expect what with him being her cousin. “Don’t tell me you knew she loved him all along, as well!”

“Of course I did. Everyone knew that.”

I narrow my eyes. “Just how publicised is her personal life, anyway?”

Remus laughs. “Oh, Lily. You and Iola are associated with the Marauders. Of course your private lives are publicised! We’re like ... The Rolling Stones. Cool, sexy, and hard rocking. Whereas L.O.V.E are annoying, drugged up hippies, like The Beatles! Don’t you know how this school works, yet?”

There were far too many shocking things he just said in those last sentences. I blurt out my feelings on all of them at once. “Of course I do! MY life is overly publicised, too? And anyway, I like the Beatles!”

Remus’s eyes widen at this last one. “Take that back.”

“No. What’s wrong with the Beatles?”

Remus shakes his head, pityingly. “You poor soul.”

I narrow my eyes again, but am still a little freaked out by the thought that people know things about my private life. “This is getting us nowhere. I miss James. When can I see James? Oh Merlin, I can’t see James. I’ve ruined our precious friendship. Remus, how did you let this happen?” I snap at him, knowing all too well that he had nothing to do with it. Luckily he doesn’t take offence. Either he’s used to dealing with hysterical and therefore irrational girls, or he’s just a really, really nice guy. Whichever one it is, it’s probably a good thing, because at the moment he’s the only person I have in the world who isn’t otherwise occupied, or probably hating me right now. Or a Centaur.

“All right, calm down. We’ll go and find James.”

“NO!” I cry, grabbing at his sleeve, my eyes wild. “Remus, you can’t! Please! I’d rather ... let’s go and see Hagrid, find out what will happen to Hallead. Come on, you come with me.”

“I don’t know if I want to go anywhere with a Beatles lover.”

I glare at him, and he laughs, following me as I storm off. I had gone back to Gryffindor Common Room once Hagrid left me in the Grounds you see, crying silently all the way. That was when I bumped into Remus, who was quietly doing some homework, having come back from Hogsmeade early. He was shocked at my state, and asked what was wrong, which is when I told him the whole sorry tale. Not that he understood a word of it, as it turned out, since I was sobbing violently at the same time. I’ve stopped crying now, though. Our discussion about various rock bands turned it into anger, although I suppose it’s not surprising that Remus is a Rolling Stones kind of person. He just seems to have that rocker status about him, beneath the studious, tired guy act.

We reach Hagrid’s hut in record time. Walking helps release your emotions, and I certainly have a lot right now. Let’s see: fear (for Hallead); despair (at my ruination of the friendship between me and James); anger (at Remus not taking it as seriously as he should); some happiness (at Iola and Sirius finding true love and all); and something else. When James and I had been about to kiss ... I kind of wanted us to.

“Back again?” asks Hagrid, when he sees me. He is outside, tending to Hallead, who is in the courtyard.

“How is he?” I ask, eyes wide, and worried. If Hallead’s life is ruined because of me, I don’t think I would ever be able to live with myself.

“He’s all righ’, I suppose. Doesn’t wan’ to be a bother, blames ’is manhood �“ or horsehood, or whatever �“ an’ ’e keeps asking if I think you’ll visit ’im.”

I smile, forgetting my worries about James for a moment. “I’m here.”

Hagrid looks at Remus suspiciously. “Aren’t you a Marauder?”

“Oh, I’m the smart one,” he insists, straight away. This is the claim that all four Marauders always make, even though they’re quite similar in intelligence. Or at least, it seems that way, because James and Sirius have a natural ability to be top of everything without even trying (much like Iola), Remus studies hard enough to keep level with them (much like me) and Peter gets so much help that he can achieve the grades he needs, if he wants to.

I speak to Hallead, and am surprised at how calm he seems to be. “Really, Miss Lily,” he says. “I’m absolutely fine. Don’t worry about a thing.”

And so, once I’ve spoken to him a little longer, we decide to leave. Remus is trying to convince me to speak to James, but I just don’t know. I mean, sure, if he understands why I ran away (although not even I understand, so it’s unlikely that he will) then that’s fine ... but if, as is more likely, he presumes I hate him ... what will I do?

“I’m sure if you just talk to him, he’ll understand why you did ... whatever you did. What did you do? I still don’t know,” he continues, looking confused again. Oh, I don’t have the energy to relive it all again ...

“Remus, to be honest, I just want to go to bed,” I say, simply.

“It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he points out, indicating the annoyingly bright sunshine.

“Do I look like I care?” I screech. All this emotion is really taking it’s toll. Bloody hormones.

“Of course not,” he says quickly, a little scared. We enter through the large oak doors, and begin to climb the stairway. We eventually go through the Portrait Hole and into the Common Room. A few people are beginning to come back from Hogsmeade now, although most are enjoying it while they can. However, James and Peter are sitting by the fire (although Sirius and Iola are nowhere to be seen). Remus goes over to them, and I feel James staring at me as I make my way across the room and up the stairs. It’s uncomfortable, but ... at least he’s not hurling abuse.

I push open the door to our dorm carefully, and blink. I blink again. The sight greeting me is inexplicably the same.

What was once my familiar, untidy, but well loved dormitory, has disappeared. Or rather, I can no longer see it. Because covering every inch of it �“ the walls, floor, furniture, ceiling �“ are large, thick, deep red roses. Bloody hell. A gesture for Eve, perhaps? No, none of the boys she dates would put in that much effort, they’re strictly a one-track-mind type. It can’t be for any of the other “Perfects”, that’s for sure. Iola, perhaps, from Sirius? But no, they’re not even back from Hogsmeade yet. So who?

A note flutters from the ceiling, folded into the shape of a flower. I snatch at it, and, ignoring it’s delicacy, tear it open. There, in loopy, curly, elegant red handwriting, are the words:

L �“ I didn’t mean to scare you like that. If you are confused about the roses, here is my train of thought: in being unbearably clichéd on purpose, I am, in fact, being original. You see? �“ J

No way. NO WAY. This is not happening.

I scrunch up the paper until my nails dig into my palms. I open my mouth, and scream, long and loud. Potter! James Bloody Potter! I don’t believe him! After everything ... after everything that has happened, he hasn’t changed a bit. All the frustration I’ve been feeling suddenly explodes inside me. I turn, and storm out of the room, down the stairs, and down into the Common Room.

“After all this time!” I screech, not caring that everywhere is silent. “All this time, and you just ... don’t ... learn! You’re not being original, Potter, you are being bloody annoying! I thought you knew! I thought that it had finally sunk in! I do not want to be bloody romanced by you! I do not want your flowers, and your love notes and your charm. So don’t try it! All right? No!”

There is silence. James is staring at me, his expression motionless. Eventually, he says, “So it didn’t work, then?”

I leave, going back upstairs, furiously. When I wrench open the dormitory door, I take out my wand, and levitate all the roses, then turn them so that they are all pointing, stem first towards the door. I banish them violently, so that one by one, they shoot down the stairs like bullets, and attack the three Marauders. I hear shouts of alarm, and fright, and cries to take cover. Room clear of sentimental gestures, I throw myself onto my bed and stay there. Time begins to trickle by as I listen to the chaos downstairs, although no one comes up to see if I’m okay. The sound of confusion and panic eventually lull back into the usual buzz of the Common Room, and presumably everything worked itself out. I feel Missy jump up next to me, and go to sleep.

Eventually, after what feels like years of lying still and wishing the world would implode, I join her, but am woken the next day by Iola hitting me over the head with a pillow. It takes me a moment to realise what is going on, but once I get my bearings, I mumble, “Gee, thanks.”

“You don’t deserve to be woken up by something as civilised as an alarm clock,” she informs me. Great. Now my supposed best friend hates me as well as everybody else. And how can she think of my alarm clock as civilised? It deserves to be shot.

I roll over to face her. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry?” she hisses. “Sorry? What did you have to go and react like that for?”

Eventually, after blinking a few times in confusion, the whole sorry tale comes flooding back to me in one sweeping wave of distress. “You weren’t even there,” I point out, fairly.

“What does that matter? I was told all about it! Why, Lily? He was trying to be different than who he used to be, he was trying to be romantic. He really loves you Lily, and all you can do is �“”

“Iola,” I interrupt, knowing by now the best way to avoid a lecture from my best friend. “Tell me about you and Sirius.”

Her tirade fizzes out immediately, as she jumps onto my bed and crosses her legs, grinning all over her face. “Oh, Lils, it was fantastic! We had a brilliant time, got along so well, and I think he really likes me! You know, I ... I’ve always kind of had a bit of a thing for him, I just never really mentioned it to you before ... you know all those poems I wrote? Well, they were all about him!”

“Yeah,” I say, glad that she is so happy. “I figured it out.” I decide not to mention that I was about the last person on the planet to do so.

She continues to gush about how great Sirius is for some time, and eventually I sort of tune out. Eve wakes up a little later, looking gorgeous the minute she steps out of bed, hair falling perfectly into place. It’s the most annoying thing in the world, especially when mine is a bird nest of frizzes and tangles, because I haven’t had the chance to brush it yet.

“Oh my word,” she says.

I turn and look at her, standing at the window with her hand over her mouth, ridiculous see-through negligee thing swirling all around her, gracefully.

“What?” I ask, intrigued.

She turns around to look at me, and sneers, immediately eradicating all innocent beauty from her face. “Find out for yourself,” she says, with far more contempt than is necessary.

I go to the window, and almost have a heart attack. Hundreds of heart shaped balloons are rising in the air, and as one passes close by the window, I see that they say, in an elegant handwriting print, “I love you, Lily Evans!”

“You have got to be kidding me,” I say. Iola comes up behind me.

“I guess he really meant it when he said he wanted to win you over in the corniest way possible, because that would make it remarkably original.”

“That makes no sense!” I cry out, horrified. “Wasn’t he listening to a word I said?”

“I think you’ll find that James bounces back rather easily, Lily,” Iola says. “Especially when he’s made up his mind about something.”

We take it in turns to shower, and then get dressed, before heading downstairs to breakfast. Good thing it’s a Sunday, I can try and avoid James as much as possible. If I’d had to have had lessons with him, too ... I think I would just have to stab something ... or someone.

We reach the top of the stairs going down to the Common Room, and Iola begins to laugh. What NOW? my conscience screams. At least it’s on my side for once. It doesn’t take long for me to work out exactly what charade James has concocted this time, however.

The staircase is covered in pink petals, and from our position, we can see quite clearly that at the bottom of the stairs are the words “I LOVE YOU LILY” spelt out with flickering candles. Bloody hell.

“I’ll kill him,” I mutter under my breath.

“I really don’t understand why you don’t see the funny side,” Iola says as we push our way through excited first and second years.

“Because it’s not funny!” I yell, angrily. Yeesh, Lily, he’s trying really hard. Stop being such a bitch and tell him how you feel. Great. So my conscience has turned traitor, too.

As usual, I decide to ignore it, and stomp all the way down to the Entrance Hall, which is luckily free of cheesy wooing methods.

But the thing is, when I see the Marauders sitting at the Gryffindor table flicking bits of toast at each other, I just ... smile. I catch Iola raising her eyebrows infuriatingly at me, and immediately transform my face back to it’s annoyed state. I march down towards them, and feel heads turning as I do so. But I don’t do anything to interest them, I just sit down calmly, and reach for the bacon. Missy jumps up beside me and starts yowling until Peter gives her the remainder of his sausage. Iola sits down carefully, looking from me to James and back again, obviously expecting some sort of duel to be challenged sometime soon.

Everyone seems to have realised that no entertaining spectacle is going to happen, and have gone back to their own conversations. Excellent news.

Without warning, I kick James in the shins under the table. “Ow!” he cries.

“You deserved that,” I hiss.

“Why?” he asks, hurt, his eyes round and formed into their long perfected puppy-dog stare. He won’t get me with that old trick this time ...

“Because I told you not to do what you’re doing last night, but you just don’t listen, do you?”

“Nope. Anyone will tell you that, Lily, just look at poor McGonagall. She still thinks I’ll change into Moony if I scrub enough bed pans,” he says, grinning, and Remus rolls his eyes, but doesn’t interrupt our heated discussion. Well, my half is heated. His half is calm, and almost jokey about the whole business.

“Just stop it, all right? I told you, I don’t want to be wooed by you.”

“So you won’t be wanting these, then?” he asks, taking out a huge bouquet from behind his back, with lots more red roses, and a single white lily in the middle. I narrow my eyes at it, and snatch it roughly out of his hands. I stand up, and people start looking.

“Lily ...” Sirius says, sounding worried. I ignore him, and hold the bouquet at arms length. With my other hand, I take out my wand, and set the thing on fire, in front of the whole school.

“And next time, James, it will be your head,” I tell him, sharply.

Sirius begins to laugh, and applaud, despite the shocked and tense atmosphere gripping the rest of the Great Hall. “Five hundred and eight Padfoot Points for that whole performance, Lily!” he cries, wiping tears from his eyes. “I think you’re winning!”

Iola slaps her hand over her eyes. “Just when we thought you’d forgotten, Sirius,” she says. He grins at her, and his eyes spark with something wonderful that �“ the way things are going �“ I will never see in anyone’s eyes when they look at me.

“I’ll never forget,” he says.

“Look mate,” James warns, frowning angrily. “Please don’t start snogging her, she’s like my sister. Once was enough for me.”

“Wait a minute ...” Iola says, turning to look at her cousin. “Once was enough? When did you �“ oh my word, James Potter, were you SPYING on me?”

“I didn’t want to �“” he starts to protest. I turn to walk out, and the beginning of an argument stops abruptly.

“Now look what you did,” Remus says, as I leave the Great Hall, but after that, I don’t hear any more.

I go out into the Grounds, and decide that I might as well go an visit Hallead. I find him outside Hagrid’s hut, lying down calmly and watching the birds some distance off. He looks content, like he wouldn’t rather be anywhere else, and I am happy that being kicked out of his own herd seems to have worked out for him.

“Hello, Miss Lily!” he says, brightly, and I don’t recall ever hearing him sound so cheerful before. “And how are you?”

I sit down next to him, and begin to tell him the story of James the annoying puppy, who just doesn’t want to give up. Maddeningly, he chuckles the whole way through.

“Lily, why don’t you just accept his offer?” he asks, once I finish. “It’s obvious he’s not going to go away until you do. And I thought you liked him, anyway?”

“I do,” I say, and realise that this is extremely true. “It just makes me so mad.”

“I think you should stop letting it make you angry, and see the funny side. After all, didn’t you say that everyone else seems to?”

It’s true. I say nothing.

“Oh look,” Hallead says, innocently. “Some people are coming.” I turn quickly, and see that it is true. At the front of the �“ rather worryingly sized �“ crowd, is James, walking confidently.

“Lily,” he says when he reaches me, and nods a greeting to Hallead also. “I’ve just come to say, that even though you don’t like my methods, the message is the same. I love you. I love you, and everyone here knows it.”

“But James,” I say, desperately. “Don’t you get it? I know you think you love me, but doing all this for me, it doesn’t prove anything, just that you’re not afraid of showing yourself up. Why can’t you just �“”

I am interrupted. “Come on, Evans, don’t make me serenade you.”

My eyes widen in horror. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“I’m warning you, James �“”

“You’re just too good to be true,” he sings, getting down on one knee and spreading his arms wide. Oh sweet Merlin. It can’t be happening ...

“James, please,” I beg, glancing around at the amused crowd of people.

“Can’t take my eyes off you,” he continues, with a surprisingly decent voice (although it wouldn’t win him any competitions). “You’d be like heaven to touch...”

“Stop it. I won’t listen to this!”

“I wanna hold you so much...”

“No! Shut up! Leave me alone!”

He stands up, dramatically, and begins to belt out unashamedly, “I love you baby, and if it’s quite all right, I need you baby! To warm a lonely night, I love you baby! Trust in me when I say ...”

This is too much. “James! It’s not all right! Stop it! You missed out a verse and a half! I get the message, okay?”

He just grins, takes a deep breath, and yells out, “Oh pretty baby, don’t bring me down, I pray, oh pretty baby! Now that I �“”

“Silencio!” I screech, pointing my wand at him. He continues for a moment, and then realises that no one can hear him anymore. “Get lost, the lot of you,” I hiss at the crowd, and they begin to disperse. Only the Marauders and Iola remain, refusing to be gotten rid of that easily. I remove the spell from James.

He sighs, fun over now. “Lily, if you don’t want to be swept off your feet with my amazing romance tactics, what do you want?”

I swallow, and as I look into the face of James Potter, I realise exactly what my answer should be. I take a deep breath. “For one thing, I want to stand with my feet firmly on the ground. I just ...” Come on, Lily, now or never! Say it. Say it. Say it ... Say it, damn you! “I just want you standing next to me.” Oh, craps, I said it.

“Did you really just say that?” he whispers, his eyes going round with shock.

“I don’t know,” I squeak, shocked at myself. “Did you hear it?”

“Oh, I heard,” he says, stepping closer. He leans down slowly (who knew he was so tall all of a sudden?) and kisses me softly. My heart seems to explode, and things just seem ... well, right. We both break apart grinning for a moment, before I throw my arms around his neck and start kissing him again. If my past self could see me now ... When we step apart again, it seems that the crowd of people is surrounding us again. This school is nuts. And slightly perverted. My high spirits dampen when I see my three ex-friends practically at the front of the throng.

“Look, Val, Lia,” ‘Evie’ sneers. “Lily really is getting it on with Potter this time! She’ll probably get rabies.” I feel his hand gripping my arm, warning me not to relive the past and run away. He needn’t bother.

“Oh, I know,” I pout, as if I am about to add ‘isn’t it awful?’ Instead, I look into his beautiful, beautiful eyes, run my hand through his beautiful, beautiful hair, and say, “The things I do for love, eh?”

And then I lean towards his beautiful, beautiful lips and start kissing them.

Again.

Because seriously, who wouldn’t?

*~*~*

AN: *Happy smile which turns into choking sob* How did this happen? I’m still in denial a little, this was my FAVOURITE fic to write. I LOVED writing this fic! *Composes self* All right, I’m fine. The lyrics in this chapter were from the song Can’t take my eyes off you by Frankie Valli. It was released in 1968, according to my sources, so it’s possible James heard it one holiday at home ... we already know that he’s not afraid of Muggle culture away from Hogwarts (we learnt that in chapter 10) so I don’t see a problem. Besides, it just seems like the sort of thing he would sing to Lily ... the words and music just seem to fit his character, wouldn’t you say? Congratulations on reaching the end of The Things I Do For L.O.V.E, it’s been a good ride, full of twists, turns and trickery. I would like to thank (as always) my best friend, Chomione, for being there no matter what, and my brother CheeseKing for letting me read these chapters aloud to him so I could wheedle out mistakes (not that it ALWAYS worked, but hey). Thanks to anyone who beta-d (ForbiddenLove and Twizzle_loves_Lupin), and to Vindictus Viridian for accepting these chapters, and helping me if I needed it �“ couldn’t have done it without you. And, of course, thank you to ALL of my reviewers, I love you guys so much! And don’t stop now, because I want to know exactly what you thought about it all! Favourite character? Quote? Scene? Chapter? Chapter name (I had so much fun thinking them up)? I have lots of other fics up (seriously, lots) so don’t be afraid of checking them out. And you never know ... maybe something new will arise ...

**Pussycat123**