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!