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 ...