"Psst, Lily. Over here!”
James, his black, untidy hair standing up straighter than usual, (quite a feat) gestured violently, his palm face up and pointer finger beckoning for her to come over.
Lily sighed, but despite her uninterested face, she was quite curious. What could it be? Could it be something for her? Maybe she was getting her hopes up. But she had to come anyway.
Flipping her red hair behind her back, she glided to him, her almost perfect trot was ruined by her hiss, “What? I was trying to get the charm done!”
He shrugged. Lily knew it; this was James Potter’s way of acting. James always making people come over to see his extraordinary whatever, when it was actually nothing at all. How foolish was she, to think he was something!
Watching his eyes intently, she saw them trail off to her charms partner, the handsome Thomas Mathews. Lily caught his plan in a wink. He did have a crush on her! He was worried about her and Tom hooking up! Now her plan started forming.
Smiling, she murmured, “James, since there is nothing to see, I should be getting back to Tom.” The endearment of Thomas’s name was sure to get a hit from James, thought Lily. And indeed, James’s lean face did grow tense.
“We were in the middle of something.” Emphasis on the were will do it, thought Lily smugly.
At this hint, James nearly flew off his chair and cried desperately, though not above a loud whisper, “I do… I do… just hold on…”
Hurried thoughts flew though his mind as clothes on a rack. Nothing was picked, as Lily’s face became steadily more bored.
Grinning at her, his brain shouting at him, ‘What a fool! What a fool! What are you doing???’ but ignoring this, he shook his wand in an extremely random pattern. Once again his mind berating, but paying no attention, he whizzed through a complicated matter of twists when he declared, “Posthac Ab!” A blue light omitted from the wand, and pupils gasped. When the light buried itself into the polished floor, James breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God that spell hadn't done anything.
But, poor James, the floor of the room started shaking furiously thanks to his rogue charm.
“James, what did you do?" shrieked Lily as students clung to their desks.
James would have answered, “Trying to impress you,” if the floor had not opened and sucked James and Lily into the bleak darkness.
****“Ron, I’m going to run ahead. I need to get something from Dean before I go to Potions.” Harry pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, attempted to smooth his wild hair and waited for the reply from Ron.
Ron stopped walking. “Fine by me. Just don’t be late; Professor Snape will give us detention if we are!” The blazing sunlight shined through the windows, making his face seem one light smudge.
“He does even if we aren’t.”
“You know my point. Hermione and I will be waiting.”
Waving goodbye to Harry, Ron sprinted ahead to catch up with Hermione who never stopped her tread.
“Why do you even talk to each other about that? You knew Harry had to get something from Dean, he’s been complaining about how he NEEDS his... oh, whatever it was. I still really don’t understand you two,” Hermione grumbled, the bags under her eye a darkish purple.
“Really Hermione, you must get some more sleep. Have you seen those purple-ish bags? My god, woman, do you know when to stop?”
“I had essays, Ron, and it takes more than five minutes to get an Outstanding!”
Ron stopped walking again. “I do mine in that amount of time.”
“Yes, but do you get O’s?”
He shrugged this off and kept walking. “Well… sometimes I do if I work ten minutes.”
“If I help you,” Hermione grunted and shuffled along the hall that would take them on the path to Potions.
There was an abnormal silence as they followed each other.
“I heard Snape’s giving a lesson about flobberworms and their uses. Or something,” muttered Ron, trying to get some conversation . Hermione sighed. She really did appreciate Ron’s effort, but she didn’t want to talk. Not right now. Staying up all night for her Charms essay was not her idea of fun. So instead she asked him, “How was Quidditch practice? Did you block any goals?”
“Yeah! Tons! I’m really getting better, Hermione!”
Ron had started spewing off about the inquired topic, and how much better 6th year was than 5th, when a feminine scream and a thud cut him off short.
“What was that?” he asked nervously, and started glancing around.
Hermione, who was in the mood to fight an ogre, boldly stared and stomped around until she finally stopped in dead silence.
“Oh no! It’s a spider! Kill it, Hermione! Fast!” Ron cringed, holding out his hands in front of him.
“No, Ron. Come over here.” Her previous killer temper had diminished to a soft glow.
Ron was hesitant in his trek but when he rounded the bend he froze.
“It can’t be,” he murmured.
“I think it is!” Hermione whispered, a sob catching in her throat as they gazed upon the unconscious faces of James Potter and Lily Evans, lying, tangled on the wooden hall.