Today is the 17th of March. It is Wednesday and it is also raining. Fat drops of water are sliding down the window, and I can almost hear some jolly little First-years outside, splashing around in the puddles. I wonder if there will be a rainbow. Well, of course there won’t, the sun’s already set, but it would be really pretty if there were. Just picture a rainbow over the moon and the stars…well, you can imagine, hypothetical reader. I am incapable of any happy thought during the course of this detention.
Unless laughing and staring at Potter’s new atrocious haircut is considered happy. It is probably the closest I’ll get anyway.
‘What atrocious haircut?’ you may ask. It is a long story, and I haven’t gotten to that part quite yet. But let me just try to impress upon you the extent of its atrocity: picture a gorilla. Now that you’ve done that, picture it bald, except for the sideburns, sideburns just like Elvis Presley’s, by the way. Now picture the shape of a pig’s tail. Picture it at the back of someone’s practically bald head. You are now picturing exactly what I did - I mean, exactly what Potter’s hairdresser has done to him. He should sue her, no question about it.
McGonagall is frowning at me. Perhaps due to the fact I’ve just burst into laughter because Potter reached up a hand to run it through his hair but “ what’s this? There’s no hair to run his hands through! Haha! Hilarious! I’m having spasms, I tell you.
Well. Now that my fit of giggles has subsided, I guess I should finish the tale of my hospitalization in hell so I can get to the haircut bit and make it known just how ding batted Potter now looks…
So, Sunday morning, as promised, Sirius, Sophie, Remus, Peter and Rich all came back to ‘check on us’, or so Sirius calls it. He has twisted ideas about who needs to be checked on and who doesn’t.
I felt ridiculous just lying there when there was absolutely nothing wrong with me anymore, but Madame Pomfrey, the paranoid paediatrician, would not hear a word of it. For that reason, we were lying around in bed as our friends stood around us. I felt a bit uncomfortable. And that is entirely understandable, is it not? Pettigrew was sitting on the edge of James’s bed stuffing his face with some type of sugary pastry, for a change. Isn’t it absolutely earth-shattering? Sirius seemed not to think it at all an issue to sit there next to Sophie on my bed and blow in her ear every two minutes. And Sophie seemed to think this positively spiffing! Oh, how she giggled. Rich, of course, had to bring Meredith “ I mean Maura along, and neither of them noticed that Rich’s collar was covered in pink lipstick, a fact James seemed to find deeply amusing. And to top all of that wonder off, Remus glanced at me suspiciously every few minutes. I suspect he’s probably sure that I had not been about to cry ‘Room Service’ when I’d crouched behind their door, for some reason. Must just be my intuition.
But to them, no, awkward, never, everything was simply lovely and chummy. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they’d announced a group hug. Since when exactly have Rich and Sophie been pals with the Marauders? Okay, perhaps that was a relatively stupid question. Sophie is friends with Sirius, so I guess it would be hard for her not to spend time with them as she is so determined to be around Sirius, for reasons best known to herself. And Maura is on the Quidditch team, which James captains. And Rich…well, he’s a guy…the ‘cool’ type of guy, and in this school ‘Marauder’ and ‘cool’ are like synonyms. That, of course, is because I still haven’t managed to reverse their brain modifications. But I will figure it out.
There I lay, my arms crossed over my chest, a surly look upon my face as I observed the Marauders, Rich and Sophie all listening quite contentedly to Maura confess she was thinking about charming her hair another colour but was anxious about choosing the right one.
“I mean,” she went on saying, oblivious to the absurdity of the whole situation, “it takes a good deal of time (and Galleons for that matter), and if I choose a colour that doesn’t quite work it would be so troublesome to fix. Richy, what do you think? What colour matches with me?”
I got over the anomaly of hearing Rich called ‘Richy’ soon enough to hear him complain, “Oh, come on, don’t charm your hair. Its fine the way it is!”
This answer appeared not to satisfy Maura, who turned to Potter. “James, what do you think?”
He grinned and stated confidently, “Green.”
Sirius, Sophie, Remus, and Peter all laughed as Rich spluttered and stared at Potter and Maura in horror. I merely snorted and rolled my eyes. Maura, on the other hand, seemed to be actually considering this. Gag me.
“What?” asked Potter self-righteously, as if it were actually truly understandable to suggest to someone they charm their hair green and that we were all deranged for disagreeing. “I like green; it’s my favourite colour. Plus…” he grinned in a charming and oh-so-dashing way, “you’d look good with any colour.”
Oh please! Who does he think he is? He can’t go around complimenting other girls like that! What a contradiction; he’s so firm about liking me and then “ Wait, that’s not exactly what I meant. I meant that he can’t go around complimenting other guy’s girlfriends. Yes, that’s very wrong of him. It’s no wonder why his stupid, inane comment disgruntled me. Plus, my favourite colour is green. And prophetic coincidences be damned!
I must have been very conspicuous about my disgruntlement because soon enough Potter had turned to say to me, “I’m sorry, Lily, did you want to say something?”
I glanced at him crossly and stated huffily, “No, you carry on a conversation just fine without me.”
“Oh, I see…you’re feeling left out.”
How come my derisive snort didn’t sound as derisive as I’d intended it to? That made no sense. How come nothing made sense whenever the Twig was involved? And sadly, believe me, I wasn’t the only one that noticed my resentful tone.
“Lily, you’re looking truly lovely today,” he said sweetly, an odd and devious smile upon his amused face.
I gave him the most withering look I could muster. Sure, if he thinks he can win me back “ wait, what am I saying? Back? Ha! That’d be the day! “ if he thinks he can go around complimenting several girls in less than five minutes and make us think he’s cute, he is sorely mistaken. Lovely…I’ll give him lovely; lovely as a hippopotamus! My hair resembled a big red pom-pom more than it resembled hair; my face was so red I must have looked like a clown. If that’s his idea of ‘lovely’ then I don’t even want to know what he considers ugly. Hmm…how strange…that last sentence rhymed…
Okay, passing over my unexpected poetic tendencies, I snapped at him, “What exactly do you mean by it?”
To which he replied, “I’m incorporating you into the conversation.”
Oh…how cute! Not!? I didn’t even want to be incorporated into a conversation that consisted of something as redundant as hair charms. Potter really has nerve. Integrity is inexistent to him, so entirely, it’s sad. And…I doubt he thinks I’m lovely anyway.
“I’d say thanks, Potter, if I actually appreciated that.”
I refused to pity the stunned look on his face. With just a teensy, tiny bit of difficulty, I’ll admit.
“Lily, I thought last night you said you didn’t hate me anymore.”
I felt my cheeks burn and even if I kept my eyes fixed on his I could tell the others were watching us curiously. “Clean out your ears. I said no such thing.”
He frowned slightly. “Yes, you did.”
“No…I didn’t.” I continued to glare at him.
“Yes you did,” he insisted obnoxiously.
“No. I didn’t!” I enunciated clearly, as though he were a three year old. Peter was snickering at us.
“Yes you did!” he persisted, going from obnoxious to infuriating.
“No, I “ oh, fine! Just shut up!” I shouted, giving up loudly and in extreme outward annoyance. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared determinedly at the wall opposite me, as my cheeks became as vibrant as my hair.
That is, until I heard Potter say to the rest of them smugly, “She’s mad because it’s true.” You’d better believe I cracked my neck when I turned my head that fast.
But the angry words died on my tongue. My eyes leaped past Potter’s amused, satisfied face to the face of the boy entering the Hospital Wing, looking anxious.
“Terry!”
He smiled as he saw me smiling at him and hurried toward me. My Potter worries were forgotten on some distant plain of my mind when he came over and took my hand in his own cold one and sat next to me.
“Hey,” he whispered softly, kissing my forehead. “I only just heard you were in here. I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier.”
Oh yeah…he hadn’t been here. How come I hadn’t noticed..? Well, I suppose my head had been so full of stupid thoughts of stupid Potter that there wasn’t any room left for the guy who actually deserved to be occupying my thoughts.
“Oh, that’s okay. You’re here now,” I said shrugging contentedly.
He grinned and was just about to say something more when we heard Sophie clearing her throat. I looked around to find the rest of them all staring at us. Terry grinned at them all, but only Maura smiled back. However, when she noticed that no one else had, she stopped. Rich just raised his eyebrows coolly at Terry. Sophie attempted a smile but the unpleasant look on her face became it more of a grimace. Remus lifted his hand limply then let it fall back into his lap. Sirius and Peter glared.
James however, stared at my hand in Terry’s. He had looked quite happy just minutes ago, but his face now betrayed the fact that he probably wanted nothing more than to pounce upon Terry and chuck him out the window. He raised his eyes to mine and looked into them for a while. For that instant I could not breathe (damn, why does he do that to me?). Then he took one deep breath and lifted his eyes to Terry’s, saying, “Hello, Caldwell,” with what seemed to be an enormous effort.
“Potter.” Terry gave him a little nod.
I looked between them anxiously. Were they truly going to make this awkward on me and stand there like big slabs of useless stone?
“So, Caldwell,” I heard someone say and turned my head gratefully, only to find that Sirius was sitting there on the edge of my bed, glaring at Terry as he continued, “how come we couldn’t find you yesterday? McGonagall took me and Sophie along to look for you, but you weren’t anywhere at all…”
Terry stared right back, tightening his grip on my hand. “You mustn’t have looked too hard. I was at the back of the library with my study group. You can ask them.”
Sirius glanced, in a bitter sort of amusement at James, who was glaring at mine and Terry’s hands. Then he looked back up, eyebrows raised and just sat there. I’m afraid to say he looked a tad dim-witted…But then again, he always does.
Before anyone could make any other comment, Madame Pomfrey came bustling in, and, upon noticing them all crowded around us, uttered a squeaky little shriek, claiming in an authority’s voice, “No more than six visitors!”
As if one extra person would actually make Potter and I abruptly up and die, or something. Do you get the gist of her paranoia?
“That’s okay, we’ll be on our way,” Remus offered, glancing around at the others. They all nodded, and were soon gone, ensuring James and I that they would save us seats for lunch. Terry remained.
It was painfully awkward, sitting there as Terry tried to begin a conversation, and Potter glared silently at the wall. Normally, I would have just jumped into the conversation with Terry, as he is very smart, and never talks about stupid things like…like which colour to charm one’s hair. But, for some reason I haven’t yet had the chance to fathom; I didn’t feel all that comfortable speaking openly to Terry in front of James. And I couldn’t deny that I felt like there was something trickling down my spine after Terry and Sirius’s conversation. A little something that felt suspiciously like doubt.
Well, anyway, Terry left awfully soon, even though I couldn’t exactly say I was upset about that. I would probably just catch up with him later, after I felt a little more comfortable and reassured.
The silence Terry left behind was even worse. Potter didn’t say one word, and I lay there fidgeting. I’ll admit it again: I was starting to feel a little suspicious about Terry. I mean, yes, I believe he was with his study group; he’s a true blue Ravenclaw. He’s always studying. I knew that Sophie’s very first impulse would be to go look for him in the Library, as she isn’t at all stupid…but she was with Sirius. I had a feeling he really hadn’t wanted Terry found, and I knew it was convenient for him to insinuate things against Terry in front of me. But that wasn’t what was bothering me. What started bothering me was something different and older. And it bothered me enough to make me turn to the mop-headed boy lying next to me.
“Er, could I ask you something?” I cleared my throat and ventured.
He grunted. “If you want to ask me, I don’t think I have a choice.”
“Right,” I took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. “Well, erm, I just wanted to know what it was you and Terry were arguing about the day of the food-fight.”
He was silent for a while, chewing on his bottom lip. “Haven’t you asked your boyfriend about that before?”
“Yes, yes I did, but-”
“And what did he tell you? The usual codswallop about me acting like a primate, saying things like, ‘Me want Lily’, or ‘Me no like you. Me crush you bones’, and him defending you like the perfect little hero you think he is? I would bet anything that’s what he said, and I’d bet just as much that you believed him. C’mon, Lily, grow up!”
His words stung. My mouth hung open as he stared at me defiantly; my face burned and, to my utter horror, my throat clenched. I swallowed and looked away.
How dare he be so rude? I asked him nicely enough. I know he doesn’t like Terry and that his presence would upset him, but did he have to take it out on me? He was acting like just the barbarian he had mocked Terry of calling him. And what, didn’t he want to have a chance to degrade Terry to me? I was giving him the perfect opportunity.
“Look,” I said as calmly and composed as I could, “it’s not much to ask. He told me, but I just wanted to hear your take on it-”
“Why? Have you stopped trusting him?” he interrupted. I couldn’t tell whether he sounded hopeful or not.
“NO! I just wanted - I mean, he might have, you know, modified the true “ not that I think of him that way, but it is “ well, not unexplainable. I would understand why he would have “ not that he should have -”
“Lily, you’re blabbering,” he told me unsmilingly.
“Oh, right. I guess I…look, James, can you just tell me what happened, and I won’t bother you again.”
“Oh, so now I’m James again, am I? You’ll act friendly to me when we’re alone but not when there’s anyone else around?”
“What on earth are “ never mind, that’s ridiculous,” I claimed loudly, completely bewildered by the preposterous, not to mention horrendously stupid, accusations. “Please, just tell me what he said that made you punch him and I’ll- I’ll never call you Potter again.”
He glared at me. His hair stuck up very oddly at the top (not that it doesn’t always, I just seem to be noticing more lately), and his glasses were a little crooked. I was sure, had the circumstances been any others, I would have burst out laughing at his comically angry face.
“No, I don’t think I will…Evans.” He smirked at me, with a look like, ‘Oh, aren’t I the wittiest buffoon to ever have lived?’
I gaped for a while at him then spluttered, becoming as angry as he was, “Fine! Who cares what you’ve got to say anyway? I sure don’t, you, you…you ignorant, annoying little prick!”
“Oh, how truly original you are, Lily. Prick…you’ve never called me that before, stubborn, stuck-up meat head!”
I gasped. “Stuck up? Me? You’re insane, you great prat!”
“Now that is what I’d call a great come-back. You’re getting smarter by the minute, Witless Wonder.” He had sat up and his face was turning red with rage and a sort of pleasure I couldn’t quite place.
“Oh, well, that’s just…who are you calling witless, Mr. ‘oh, die your hair green, you’ll look like a lovely piece of asparagus’!”
“Look who’s talking, Ms. ‘I think lemon meringue pie is a fantabulous accessory, thank you very much’!”
I was about to open my mouth once more to say something about him permanently attaching a nicked snitch to his hand, for fashion’s sake, when Madame Pomfrey came bustling back in, sighing, “Merlin’s beard, will you two keep it down? You’re acting like a pair of love-struck third years.”
LOVESTRUCK? Me? Love struck in reference to James Potter? Oh, she’s lost it too! What did I tell you, anonymous hypothetical reader, insanity is contagious! It’s everywhere!
Will you look at that! My time here has run up. Pity, I fancied reminiscing about Potter’s hair cut…ah well, I’ll save it for tomorrow…
He’s already made fast tracks out of here. He hasn’t been nearly as friendly to me this past week as he has every other day of our lives. I wonder if he’s finally over me…no, he can’t be. That would be just…well, it would be very strange not having Potter begging me to go out with him. It would be just…weird. Adjectives fail me. But it’s of no matter, he hasn’t given up on me, I just know it. Of course, I wish he would, I just don’t think he will…Anyway, where was I?
McGonagall didn’t look very happy with Potter when he stormed out of here, glaring at me. I guess she never thought the murderous glares might come mutually. I didn’t either, but I know it’s just another one of his oddities…or maybe he is mad at me…Well, he was rude first, and I asked him to tell me his story! What more does he want? Goodness, he called me stuck-up! The nerve of that moron! Not only that, he called me a meat head! What kind of childish insult is that? Seven years of education have been entirely wasted on him, I’m afraid, but not in the least baffled, to say. It’s his entire fault, and there’s no sense in him being angry with me. So what if I’ve been pointedly snogging Terry in front of him since the fight in the Hospital Wing. He acts like he doesn’t care anymore anyway, so why should it bother him…
Lily Evans, Potter Hating Marvel
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Okeydokey...I'm very sorry for the long wait, daaarling readers. My sister was in the hospital for about a month, and I just couldn't think of anything else, let alone remembering to update. But now she's better, I'm moving back to the U.S where it's summer now, so updates I hope will become more frequent. Thanks to cAughtonFire for her great beta work!
Now it's time to review! Blabber to me! It'll make me happy, and more eager to update...hehe.
The Epic Tale of the Hogwarts Food-fight by Gin_Drinka
Chapter Notes: JK owns it all...just thought I'd clear that up.