Back to classes after another looonngg weekend of studying. Transfiguration definitely isn’t my strong point. Did you do anything remotely entertaining over the weekend? I’m sure you did; you nearly always do. My life is boring compared to yours. No nighttime wanderings, no hexing, no inventing…no fun, basically. Do you thing we’ll ever meet? Maybe we already have, and we just don’t know it. Perhaps that’s the intrigue that keeps us coming back for more. But I think I like not knowing. Anyway, I’m writing this during History of Magic, and I’d better get back to taking my notes. I’ve already missed something terribly exciting, I’m sure, but that’s a loss I’ll have to take.
--Charlotte-Flower
Lily read her note over once more before looking around the corridor. Empty. She crept down the stairs to the landing leading to the sixth floor. She lifted up the top of the post at the top of the staircase and dropped the note inside. Until tomorrow, she thought to herself, smiling as she trotted off through the Fat Lady’s portrait into the Gryffindor common room.
On her way to breakfast next morning, Lily stopped and retrieved Prongs’ reply. She read it as she walked, laughing all the while. He was so funny. She sighed, tucking the parchment in her robes. She wondered, as she had so many times before, to whom exactly she was writing. He had said that he was male, a sixth year just like her, but that was about the extent of her knowledge. No matter; Lily loved his letters. There was something thrilling about spilling her entire soul, unloading all of her secrets, to a strange entity, and gaining insight into Prongs’ soul as well. Who could he be?
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Dear Charlotte-Flower,
I know we’ve talked about meeting before, but nothing has ever been arranged. How would you
feel about meeting in Hogsmeade this weekend?
Waiting for your reply,
--Prongs
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Prongs,
A meeting in Hogsmeade sounds great! Where would you like to meet?
--Charlotte-Flower
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Charlotte,
The three broomsticks?
--Prongs
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Prongs,
The table farthest from the door? One o’clock?
--Flower
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Flowery-girl,
See you then!
--P
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Alice and Lily walked down Main Street amidst the lightly falling snow. Alice was excited to finally see Lily’s mystery guy.
“Okay, I’ll be two tables away, Lily,” Alice informed her eagerly, “Just in case you need backup.”
“You think ‘backup’ is really necessary?”
“Lily, better safe than sorry. Your guy could be Severus Snape for all we know.”
The girls made identical faces of utmost disgust.
“Please, Alice, I don’t think that Severus Snape has any humour in him whatsoever. You’ve read some of Prongs’ letters; they’re definitely amusing.”
“True,” Alice admitted as she flung open the door of The Three Broomsticks. They ordered their butterbeers, then made their way to the back of the pub. Alice sat at the designated booth, facing Lily’s table. Lily stopped at the table where she was supposed to meet Prongs, but it was already occupied. James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew were sitting at the table, butterbeer dripping and spraying everywhere as they howled with laughter. James was apparently telling an extremely hilarious joke.
“So then,” he choked out, wiping a tear from behind his glasses, “he said to me, ‘I don’t think I’ll be needing any more of that marmalade!’ “ The boys rolled around in their seats, all positively crying with mirth; Sirius nearly wet himself. As Remus pounded the table with his fist, James noticed Lily standing at the table.
“Evans,” he gasped. “Can we help you?”
“Er, I-no,” she said, flustered. “It’s just…I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, and you’re in our seats.”
“Meeting someone?” James asked, sitting up straight in his seat, his smile sliding off his face. “Who?”
All the Marauders were now staring intently at her, no longer laughing.
“Alice,” Lily quickly lied, nervous at the way the boys were looking at her.
“Oh,” James looked slightly disappointed.
“Well, she’s right over there,” Peter pointed at Alice’s table.
“Oh, right. Thanks,” Lily said, disgruntled.
“What are they doing there?” Alice hissed as Lily slid onto the bench next to her.
“Laughing at James’ jokes, apparently,” Lily grumbled.
"We'll just wait for your guy here, then," said Alice matter-of-factly.
So wait they did. They waited...and waited. For an hour they sat in The Three Broomsticks, facing the back of the pub as the sounds of James and his friends drifted over to them.
"He's not coming," Lily said dully.
"Let's go."
"I'm sorry I made you wait with me for nothing," Lily told Alice once they were on Main Street again.
"Don't worry about it, Lil. I'm just sorry he didn't show.”
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Prongs,
Where were you on Saturday? You didn't show; I was disappointed. I was so looking forward to meeting you at last. Did something come up?
--Flower
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Flower,
Where were you ? I was in The Three Broomsticks. I waited for over an hour. Maybe we missed each other? The 'Broomsticks was crowded, after all...
--Prongs
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"Lily, I may have found your 'quill pal'!" Alice announced one day.
Lily looked up from her Potions homework. "You found him?" she said dubiously.
"I think so."
"How?"
"I heard someone call him 'Prongs'."
"Oh!" Lily exclaimed. "It must be him, then! Who is he, Alice?!"
"I'm not saying."
“Alice! That’s not fair! It’s cruel!” Lily protested.
“Maybe, but I gots a proposition for yeh…”
-------------------------
Lily straightened her headband absently. How had Alice talked her into this? A blind date.
“It’ll be fun, Lily!” Alice had reassured her. “It’s just dessert in the kitchens, nothing fancy, so there won’t be any pressure.”
No pressure, Lily thought wryly. None at all. She was nervous. She stared at the painting of the bowl of fruit, the entrance to the kitchens. Would he show this time? Who was he? She was so nervous! Lily began to pace. Would they hit it off? They had been writing letters to each other for an entire year, and Lily thought she knew a good deal about him, but she could be horribly wrong…
Lily broke off her nervous pacing as she heard footsteps coming down her corridor. She stayed back-to, heart beating rapidly, her breath coming rather quickly. The footsteps stopped abruptly and she heard an intake of breath.
“Lily!”
She knew that voice. Lily spun around and faced the person she had been dying to meet for a year.
“James?” she gasped incredulously.
No, not James Potter! Her sensitive, funny, thoughtful guy was Potter? But yet he was standing here before her. Now Alice’s warnings made so much more sense. Don’t run away from him, Lily. Don’t judge a book by its cover”or the rumors you’ve heard. Give him a chance and get to know him.
“Are you…‘Prongs’?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “And you’re ‘Charlotte-Flower’?”
Lily nodded. “Charlotte’s my middle name,” she whispered.
“Well,” James said. “This is a surprise.”
Lily nodded again, at a loss for words. Could James truly be the sweet guy in her letters?
James continued. “I may have been a bit of an arrogant berk in public, Lily, but everything I ever wrote to you in our letters was all completely true. Can we just start over? I’ll show you the real me, the guy in those letters.”
Lily looked at him for a moment. Could she do that? Could she just forget every single, bigheaded thing he did, all the times he cursed others or publicly humiliated her by asking her out? Alice’s words came back to her again: Just give him a chance.
She exhaled slowly and held out her hand to him.
“I’m Lily Evans. Otherwise known as ‘Charlotte-Flower’.”
James grinned and took her hand. “Hi, Lily. I’m James Potter”‘Prongs’.” They shook hands. James offered her his arm. “Now, my fair Flower, I do believe we have date. Shall we go?”
Lily accepted his extended arm. “Of course, sir. Let us dine,” she said, smiling at him. His grin widened and he tickled the giant pear with his un-occupied arm. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Lily thought, looking up at him. Lily and James proceeded into the kitchens, arm and arm, about to embark on their first of many dates.
The next morning, as Lily bounced down the stairs on her way to breakfast, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She opened the banister post and pulled a note out of the secret compartment. This time, the parchment contained a noticeable difference. The greeting and closing lines read: “Dear Lily…Love, James.”