Hello again, hypothetical, anonymous reader. I have no fancy greeting for you today, sadly enough. Not that you should care, seeing as you are possibly just an inanimate object that I have taken to referring to as a confidant. An unwilling and pity- deserving confidant, but a confidant nonetheless. On to my informal greeting; it is Tuesday the 16th of March and hello.
Rich’s new girlfriend called me ‘Laureenia’ today. She seems nice enough; though, I have hardly talked to her since her mouth is usually much more occupied with other things, such as extracting a grape from Rich’s teeth. But really, she is a bit slow. Her name is Maura; she is very tall and very slim with long blonde hair and dark eyes. But how on earth did she get ‘Laureenia’ out of ‘Lily’? I admit I was very insulted. ‘Laureenia’ isn’t an extremely horrible name, but I had the misfortune of being neighbours with a revolting girl of the same name when I was ten. I hate to even recall it, since my system is always sort of queasy when I do, but the girl pulled apart worms for Merlin’s sake! Maybe I shouldn’t have been so bothered by the mistake, but I’ve been sort of edgy lately (thanks to none other than “ guess who! Yes, the bumbling ignoramus, however did you guess? “ I mean, Potter). So when she said, “Laureenia, please pass the bowl of oatmeal?” I answered, “Why of course, Meredith.”
I don’t see why Rich got so angry at me. Meredith is a much prettier name than Laureenia.
I just realized I spent a good five minutes of my life wasting my hand away to complain that I was called Laureenia by a girl with the IQ of a flamingo. Goodness, what has happened to me? Oh, yes of course, Potter. That’s what’s happened to me.
If I recall correctly I left off my story at my last detention right about when I was sent to the Hospital Wing.
So there I was, lying on the common room floor, dripping blood onto the carpet and screaming bloody murder while James snoozed on top of me. He was actually making these strange sounds from the back of his throat, and at that moment I thought he was snoring. Though, it was actually just him choking on blood from his split lip that had gone down the wrong pipe. Well, I made enough noise for the both of us, as it was.
“Oh my goodness!” Remus screamed as he made his way down the stairs we had just toppled from and into the common room now crowded with gaping on-lookers. He knelt down before us. “Are you alright?”
I don’t know how any coherent thought entered my head, but even so, I yelled at him, “Does it look like I’m alright?”
“Prongs?” he asked, nudging James and pulling at his limp arm, “come on, Prongs, get up!”
I didn’t stop to wonder what in the world ‘Prongs’ meant, I just kept on thrashing and yelling, “Don’t just sit there and wait for him to wake up, get him off me!”
After that, several people busied themselves by pulling Potter up and grasping him tightly by his bare arms. His head continued to droop and blood dripped from his mouth.
“Lily,” gasped Rich, appearing out of nowhere. “What happened? Are you okay?” He helped to lift me, and I leaned on him, because my leg hurt when I tried to support my weight on it.
“We fell down the stairs, and no, I am not okay.” I bit at my lip, drawing even more blood, due to the intense headache I was getting. My head felt too heavy for my shoulders, and the rest of me felt too heavy for my legs. Also, my arm was twisted back into a sickening position, and a horrible purple bruise was blooming around my elbow.
“We have to bring them to the Hospital Wing,” Sirius announced to the room in general. He didn’t seem to care that he was wearing only a pair of red boxers, though most of the girls in the room found this little fact of great importance.
So, Potter and I were carried through the castle and toward the Infirmary by practically half of Gryffindor house, headed by Sirius in boxers (which, I assume, was the reason that the grand majority of people following us were girls). James was still making the same chocking sounds I assumed were snores, while I was feeling like a fool and also a little guilty. Potter hadn’t exactly stirred, and I was beginning to become worried. Or maybe my horrible mood was only due to the fact I was broken and beat. That would seem more likely, wouldn’t it?
Madame Pomfrey wasn’t very pleased when we arrived. She began to fuss incessantly over us, demanding that there be only six visitors at a time. So everyone dispersed, except for Sirius (still in his boxers), Remus, and Peter. Rich had gone to call Sophie. Even so, they all waited outside the doors.
“How on earth did you manage this?” the Healer asked distractedly, bustling around after having mended my ankle and arm and working on James’s various fractures.
“Uh…I was…coming down the stairs, and…I mean, I tripped and then…my shoes, you know…he was in the way so I…”I sighed. Excuses were obviously not my strong point. I was almost as bad at them as I was at revenge. “We fell,” I muttered lamely.
She didn’t seem to notice how pathetic my excuse was. She just waved her wand across James’s right leg, and it made an unnerving popping sound. Some of the lines of pain on his face disappeared after that.
“Well, all your broken bones are now fixed, but both of you suffered skull fractures. They’re slight, but still skull fractures. They are mended but that must have been quite some blow, so I can’t allow you to leave just yet. Also, some of the bruises across Mister Potter’s torso were so severe that he was internally wounded. That one around your elbow is very bad too, Miss Evans; you came close to dislocating your arm! You’ll stay the night, and tomorrow, if I decide you should.”
I was feeling distressed and sort of panicked about all of these bruises, fractures, and who knows what else that she kept mentioning, but I made myself stutter, “But, Madame Pomfrey-”
She gave me a look that quite clearly said, ‘No arguing,’ and I wasn’t feeling exactly aggressive, so I didn’t bother begging. I just sank back onto the bed and sighed. Then I glanced over at Potter.
A hot wave of guilt washed over me as I watched him there, unconscious, his arm in a sling, purple and red all over his bare chest and blood at the corner of his mouth. I cringed; I had finally realized that it was my entire fault. So what if he had started the whole thing? I had been taught better than to want to finish it in the same manner. As I lay there, alone, I began to question my whole quest for revenge. What had he done? He had sent a charmed flower to me that landed my boyfriend in the Hospital Wing for a few hours, he had dumped pumpkin juice down my shirt, dunked my head in a casserole, put asparagus in my shirt and…oh yeah. He had fooled me. I guess it all comes back to the way I was hurt and disappointed after finding out he’d sent me the poem and flower. He had used that whole romantic secret as a way to hurt Terry. How tactless and selfish did someone have to be, to toy with another’s feelings that way? And those were my feelings. He tells me he cares, but what kind of way to show it had that been?
And just like that I was back to being angry at him. Though, still a little disappointed and guilty, I admit. I would have to apologize. In addition there was still that whole matter about how he’d given me a way out of trouble the other day. That demanded even the briefest ‘thank you’ as well.
But he didn’t come to. The Marauders all came back, accompanied by Rich and Sophie, and he snored through the whole meeting. No one asked me why I had been up there in the boy’s dorm in the first place, and I was grateful. I would eventually tell Sophie and Rich, just not yet.
Well, around three they all took off. Rich said he had to go back to his sweetheart. Actually what he said was, “Well, I’ll see you all later. I promised Meredith I’d catch up with her. Get better soon, Lily,” he joked, winking at me. Despite his ‘too cool’ attitude, inside he is really a sweet guy. Maybe that’s why I’m friends with him.
Then Peter told Remus he needed a ton of help with some Potions essay, which came as no surprise to me. If Maura’s IQ is that of a flamingo, Pettigrew’s is that of a fly. Well, because of said help, they both took off. This left me, Sophie, Sirius, and a snoring James.
“Your elbow looks really bad,” Sophie commented. I noticed she kept bopping her knee against Sirius’s.
I shrugged, trying not to stare (or glare) at their knee bopping action. “It doesn’t hurt too much.”
“Yeah…you weren’t hurt as bad as James, that’s for sure. Just look at those bruises! Poor James…” Sophie shook her head and gave a hum of sympathy.
Again, I cringed. I glanced over at him. There was a particularly nasty purple bruise on the inner slope of his left shoulder. I found myself staring at it.
When I turned back toward them Sirius was smiling wickedly as he watched me. I immediately took that to mean he had something naughty up his sleeve. I opened my mouth to tell him to wipe the smile off his face, but before I could he tugged at Sophie’s belt loop, telling her, “Come on. I think we should just let them…rest for a while. We’ll come back to check on you tomorrow.”
Oh honestly, that was his wicked idea? Leaving me and Potter alone in the Hospital Wing? What did he think I would do, leap over to James’s bed and snog him back to life as soon as they walked out the door? Oh sure, Black, you’re brilliance astounds me. However did you see through my unappreciative façade?
Although, I did find myself alone with Potter in the Hospital Wing, all day long. Well, except for the one time a third year came in burping orange bubbles with fungus growing out of his ears. The whole time I kept glancing at Potter and trying, in a way, to fall asleep. It was really beginning to bother me that he had not woken up.
Around seven thirty at night he began to mumble. I couldn’t understand why I was so relieved. I literally sat up in bed and stared wide-eyed and breathless at him. I am now disgusted with myself, but at the moment I couldn’t help it. I got up and put my hand to his face.
His mumbling increased. He then turned his body sideways to face me and reached his hand up to hold mine. He held it there against his face before I could yank it back.
I was extremely alarmed, to say the least. I held my breath for a while, fearing he would awake to find me there with my hand in his. Then I slowly began trying to pull it back.
A wrong move on my part; he startled and sat up in bed. Thankfully, he had dropped my hand in his surprise, and I threw myself back hurriedly onto my bed.
He looked extremely puzzled as he glanced around the room. He put a hand up to his head gingerly, feeling the bandage there.
“What the-” he began. Then a look of dawning comprehension appeared upon his face and he mouthed an ‘oh’. He had obviously remembered our little stair way tumble.
I sat there, tight lipped, wondering why he hadn’t glanced around at me yet. I needn’t have.
As he turned to stare at me, I noticed he looked a little different without his glasses. Well, I can’t think of the right word, but ‘harmless’ came to mind… And ‘ridiculous’ comes to mind as I write this.
“Hey, Lily,” he said to me. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, not saying a word.
“You mean to say you weren’t injured?” He looked at me shrewdly.
I told myself he had a right to know, as I was still entirely at his disposition. So I mumbled reluctantly, “I was, but it wasn’t anything serious.”
He heaved a small sigh. I was embarrassed to see how relieved he seemed by my answer. I briefly recalled how relieved I had been when he’d mumbled, then pushed it out of my mind. I had just been an odd moment, it was nothing truly extraordinary. Really.
He reached a hand over to the bruise on his shoulder. He winced as he touched it and tried to crane his neck around to see it. His neck was twisting to an amazing extent, so I snapped at him, “James, if you keep that up, you’ll need a chiropractor.”
“A what?” He asked very curiously.
“Never mind,” I muttered. “It’s a Muggle thing.”
“Ah…”
There was an awkward silence as we both sat, staring at our hands, wondering what to say next. It was one of the only moments of my life I haven’t had a ready sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue, and it has taught me never to have another one like it again.
“So um…”James ventured at long last, “did anyone stop by to visit us?”
“Oh! Oh, yeah. Sophie, Rich, Remus, Peter and Sirius were all here. They said they’d be back again tomorrow.”
“Have we really been here all day?” he inquired of me.
I nodded. “You’re lucky you have slept through all of it. Dead boring, I tell you.”
He laughed a little. Some of the awkwardness surrounding us had begun to fade away. As he shook his head in laughter he gasped in pain and sent his hand flying up to his bandage. It was obviously still hurting him.
I pretended to be very interested in the wall opposite of me as he caressed his bruised member. Apparently guilt could also make you a coward.
“If only this could’ve happened on Monday,” I heard him mutter, judging it was safe to look back as I did so. “Then we would’ve missed detention.”
That made me chuckle a little, though reluctantly, and I complimented, “I bet McGonagall would have marched straight up here and told us all of the bones in our arms are mended, so there needn’t be a reason not to use our journals.”
James smiled appreciatively. “I can just see her doing that…good old McGonagall. Always so practical and inconsiderate. A lot like you, really.”
“Me?”
He laughed, wincing as he did so. “I’m only joking, Lily, calm down. Are you always this stressed?”
I crossed my arms over my chest and huffed indignantly. “I am not stressed. Not ever.”
His only response was to snort. Why did people do that to me so often? I was beginning to see eye to eye with my Great Aunt Polly, who had found the gesture so very disrespectful.
My embarrassment was exchanged for annoyance as I brooded. I lay down on the bed and made a nasty face.
“Oh, come on, Lily,” insisted James. “Can’t you take a joke?”
I chewed on my lip before answering, “If it’s funny.”
He sighed exasperatedly, and I was even more annoyed by it. “Good night,” I snapped, rolling over so my back faced him and shutting my eyes tight.
About ten minutes passed and he said nothing to me. Of course, I couldn’t sleep just yet, I was still somehow expecting myself to apologize to him and thank him. I had been stalling, but I knew I couldn’t do that for too long. So I laid there waiting for him to speak, beginning to wonder if he would.
The pillow had just begun to feel truly comfortable and inviting when he whispered, “Lily?”
“Yes...?” I tried to make myself be, and consequentially sound, annoyed.
“Are you awake?” he whispered again.
I crossed my eyes at the bed next to mine and retorted, “No, we’re telepathically having this conversation, couldn’t you tell?”
He ignored my sarcastic remark and whispered, “What were you doing at the door to our dorm? Before I fell on you?”
My heart beat sped. Of course he would ask that. Why hadn’t I been expecting it? Why hadn’t I prepared myself with believable excuses? I couldn’t tell him the truth! I couldn’t just say, ‘Oh, I was waiting to hear you fall down because I knew you would because I was the one who tied your shoelaces together for revenge, you lousy lump’!
“Lily?” he asked.
“Oh, uh…what was I doing..? Well, I was just…it wasn’t anything bad! Merlin, no, why would I be doing anything wrong… I was…I was going up to see you so…so that I could…thank you!”
He had listened to my endless and pathetic stutters patiently and amusedly, but at the end he frowned a little. “Thank me? Thank me for what…”
I looked down and blushed as red as my hair. I was just very pleased that he seemed to be buying my excuse, why else would I blush? No reason, that’s why! Most certainly not because he looked cute when he was confused.
“For the way you lied to McGonagall about where I had been on Thursday.”
“Oh yeah,” he chuckled at the memory. “You did owe me that didn’t you? Well, I guess we’re square, now. I’m grateful you’re talking to me at all.”
I blushed even more violently as he smiled intoxicatingly. I am not the sort of girl that gushes endlessly about a bloke’s smile or any such ridiculous nonsense, but if I were, I would definitely be going on and on about that smile. Of course, I would go on and on about Terry’s smile too, if that were the case, I comforted myself with. It was just the first time Potter had been civil around people, that is no doubt why it stuck. It was nothing meaningful.
“And I’m sorry I landed you in here. I am an incredible klutz and can’t make myself hate me enough for it. Tripping over my own shoes! Honestly.” He shook his head darkly and looked away.
There went the guilt again, winding itself around my insides and squeezing tight. Well, that’s what it felt like. I am sorry, hypothetical reader, if my description provides you with an unpleasant image. I was feeling very unpleasant at the moment. So he didn’t suspect foul play? That was both lucky and horrifying. Well, he did sort of deserve the guilt. I mean, if he is incapable of being guilty about anything else than I guess when someone does manage to make him guilty they’d better make the most of it. Well, fine, I would let him go on thinking he was guilty, but I wouldn’t push it. Mainly because the guilt I was experiencing wouldn’t allow it.
“Don’t worry that much…people trip over their shoes all the time.” I couldn’t bring myself to make my voice sound as sympathetic as he was maybe expecting.
He snorted, saying, “Oh, yeah,” he laughed, “of course they do, Lily.”
He seemed to be chuckling an awful lately. Not that he doesn’t always find something to laugh about; he just doesn’t do that around me. I usually give him no cause to laugh; I try and give him cause to cry (even though we all know that works simply splendidly). Well, what had changed? Nothing! Even so, he was suddenly acting as if I were Queen Amusing or something just as admirable. Well, I am far from it; I am about as funny as a heart attack. And none of that had changed.
Though, apparently James Potter was under the illusion that it had, and it was my undeniable duty to my self to set him right. I stared determinedly at the ceiling with my arms crossed over my chest.
“You know, Potter, just because I did the unbelievable and thanked you for something doesn’t mean I am about to fall for you, or that I’ve forgiven you or even that I enjoy your company. Understand? So don’t go around acting as if we’re suddenly the best of mates.”
I had honestly expected him to look upset, disappointed, or angry. Or even a combination of all three. I had not expected him to look amused, but that was precisely what he did. Unpredictable and baffling, that’s what he is.
Oh yes, and extremely aggravating, why on earth did I forget that most essential description?
“What’s so funny?” I asked testily. “I mean it, you know.”
“I know, I know.” He waved his hand around unconcernedly. “But, Lily, do you still hate me?”
Why did he insist upon asking such questions? Couldn’t he tell they were uncomfortable? The oaf had absolutely no clue about the unwritten law explaining all the ‘yes’s, and ‘no’s of social intercourse. He did everything to his own demented rules.
“Perhaps,” I answered very much annoyed.
He beamed. “I would say that’s huge progress.”
I frowned and added, “Most likely.”
He watched me for a while then shrugged his shoulders, unconcerned.
“Either way, it’s still progress.”
“Well, that’s about as far as you’re going to get,” I snapped hoping to pop his hopeful bubble. It was made of some very resistant material, let me tell you.
“I don’t think so…” he said mysteriously with that strange grin upon his face. But then his face lit up as he exclaimed, “So, you don’t deny it! There really has been some progress!”
I stared at him. He looked as if he had just been crowned Supreme Ruler of the Universe. Goodness, it definitely didn’t take much to please the boy. I can only imagine what his face would look like if I confessed to him that I secretly liked him. Not that I do, of course!
Well, that’s basically how the rest of the night and early the next morning went, James acting ecstatic about me possibly not hating him anymore (which I still do, for the record), and me, acting about as annoyed and exasperated as was humanly possible.
If you are now wondering how it was that I returned to hateful name-callings and comments after our experience in the Hospital Wing, which was actually very positive compared to every other experience I have had with him, you, anonymous reader, will have to wait until tomorrow when I will finish my tale. I have run out of time, it is now eight thirty two and I was supposed to leave two minutes ago. McGonagall is standing impatiently over me, her hand out-stretched. I will be back tomorrow, yellowing parchment I have grown unreasonably fond of.
Lily Evans.
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First off, I mean no offense to whoever out there goes by Laureenia or Meredith. So I hope you won't get annoyed and stop reading this story...that would make me sad!
Well, my lovely readers, I hope you liked this chapter. It’s definitely the fluffiest so far, even though that’s not saying much. Thanks to cAughtonFire, my beta, for being amazing! And on that note, please review!
The Epic Tale of the Hogwarts Food-fight by Gin_Drinka
Chapter Notes: Hmmm...I think you'll like this chapter...Enjoy!