It had been a relatively calm night. Remus was away visiting his sick mother and the remaining Gryffindor boys sat in their dormitory. Sirius appeared to be deep in thought, something that didn’t ordinarily happen to him.
“Come on, Sirius!” James Potter taunted, messing up his hair with one hand. “Can’t you think of anything?”
The pressure got to Sirius, and it caused him to do something even he considered way below the belt.
“I dare you,” he said, eyes twinkling maliciously, “to snog Evans.”
Here came a silence so long and profound that you almost wouldn’t have thought there were Marauders in the room.
“No way,” James said, his mouth dropping open. “Absolutely no way.”
“What? Afraid she’ll hate you? Because I hate to break it to you, mate, but she already does.”
James punched his friend, but Sirius just laughed. Peter watched the scene with growing trepidation.
“But it’s Quidditch tomorrow!” James said, desperately clutching at straws. “It’ll ruin the game, a thing like that hanging over my head!”
“Look into my eyes,” Sirius said calmly. “Does it look like I care?”
It didn’t. James gave up.
“All right, but I’m telling her it’s a dare first,” said James with an air of finality. Sirius threw up his hands in disgust.
“Then what’s the point of the dare? Honestly, you’re just like Pettigrew!”
Peter was affronted.
“I never did something like that!”
“Only because no one ever dared you to snog your crush,” James assured him, shooting daggers at Sirius, who grinned and winked at him.
“Let me make one thing clear, Jamesie: You’re not allowed to tell her until after the kiss; that is, if she leaves enough air in you to speak. Good night,” Sirius added to the room at large, swinging his legs up onto the mattress and rolling over.
James would have groaned and lamented if he had thought anyone cared. As it was, he lay on his back, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
This is way too sudden, he thought. Sirius is wrecking my only chance with Evans. If she never talks to me again, I’m killing him.
Lily awoke to the chants of her fellow Gryffindor girls. It was a minute or so before she was able to discern what they were saying.
“Down with Slytherin! Gryffindor for the Cup! Down with Slytherin! Gryffindor for the Cup!”
Lily checked her watch that was lying on her bedside table and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was 7:02.
“What in Merlin’s name are you lot doing up this early?” Lily said irritably.
“Oh, this isn’t early,” Mia said brightly. “All the boys have been up since five decorating the common room.
Lily felt her initial annoyance at the rude awakening ebbing.
“Decorating it for what?” she asked curiously. Arya threw a pillow at her.
“For when we beat the crap out of Slytherin in the Quidditch final!” Kat cried jubilantly.
All of Lily’s roommates loved Quidditch. Arya and Mia had followed it their entire lives, and Kat had fallen into the sport so naturally that Lily was almost jealous. She herself couldn’t see the point of it, but she wasn’t about to tell them that (Especially not Arya, who had once hexed a fifth year Hufflepuff for saying that Pride of Portree were even worse than the Chudley Cannons. All the fur still hadn’t quite come off.) Lily did, however, enjoy the after parties, in which food from the kitchens would mysteriously crop up, and occasionally some she had never seen at the Hogwarts tables.
Still yawning for the earliness of the hour, Lily swung herself out of her four poster bed and got dressed. For a reason not even she knew, she spent extra time on her hair, twining it into a silky plait down her back. She looked at her reflection, deemed it passable, and headed down to the Great Hall for a spirited breakfast before the last Quidditch game.
James Potter had not slept all night. For the first few hours he had laid there in his bed, listening to the heavy breathing and snores of his fellow Marauders. Shortly after getting immensely bored of this, he snuck down to the common room and sat in his favorite chair beside the dwindling fire. Questions were chasing each other through his mind.
What am I going to do? How can I make this work? What if she hates me? What if I refuse to do it? What then?
James knew he couldn’t just back out, as much as he wanted to. It was an unwritten Marauder law that dares have to be carried out. Otherwise the one who chickened out would be the test subject of newly learned jinxes and curses until they did the dare. James had seen it happen. It wasn’t pretty.
By a quarter to five the rest of the first year Gryffindor boys had joined James in the common room and proceeded to cheer him up by discussing the menu for the party that afternoon (since they were sure to have one, since they were sure to win).
Then they woke up the older boys; a very brave thing to do considering that most teenage wizards hex people who wake them up before the crack of dawn is even thought of. Especially when those people are first years. Eventually, though, they got a sixth year boy to call off the giant flying bogies that were attacking Peter, and they started planning in earnest.
James and company were put in charge of the food and drink, since they wouldn’t tell anyone else about the secret passage into Hogsmeade, much to the disappointment of the older students.
The Gryffindor common room was an impressive sight once the boys were finished with it. Red and gold lions hung over almost every wall, and in a stroke of brilliance a third year had suggested a dartboard with the Slytherin serpent on it. This, of course, was done overenthusiastically, and the dartboard filled an entire wall.
Around seven thirty, the girls came chanting down the staircase from their dormitory.
“Kinda catchy,” Frank Longbottom said to no one in particular, nodding in time to the words. Soon the other boys took up the chant, and they went that way through the corridors. When they reached the Great Hall, they saw that, oddly enough, the Slytherins were singing the exact opposite.
“Down with Gryffindor! Slytherin for the Cup! Down with Gryffindor! Slytherin for the Cup!”
“Well, if it’s a battle of the wills, then,” James heard a girl called Mia mutter to Lily, before yelling the words all the more loudly. He grinned as the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs joined Gryffindor in out-chanting the Slytherins. James looked briefly at the High Table and saw Dumbledore directing them with his wand, his bright blue eyes twinkling merrily. The Headmaster, who always seemed to know if someone was watching him, winked at James and stood up.
“If you have all finished yelling yourselves hoarse,” the professor said, “perhaps we can get our breakfast? I’m sure the house elves are wondering what is causing this dreadful din.”
He said this not as an adult telling them off, but rather as a suggestion. It really gave the impression that if they were to say no, thank you, he would be quite content to sit back and listen to them yell themselves hoarse some more. He had actually seemed to be enjoying himself. James shook his head in wonder. This bloke, he thought, is not normal.
He put aside thoughts of Dumbledore’s abnormality when the food arrived. The house elves appeared to have outdone themselves. On the Gryffindor table there was a sculpture of a Quaffle made out of what a closer look would tell you was toast, kippers laid out on a plate so that they spelled GRYFFINDOR, and a Golden Snitch carved out of butter. The food did not stay beautiful for long, as yelling oneself hoarse does tend to give one a large appetite.
The match was fabulous for Gryffindor spectators and horrible for Slytherin ones. The Gryffindor Chasers were superb, working as one unit. To the onlookers, it seemed as if they could read each other’s minds. They scored goal after goal, and then, in a breathtaking dive, Simon Wood of Gryffindor caught the Snitch, making the score 220-10.
James Potter took a deep breath, watching Lily Evans’ frenzied victory dance with her friends. Now or never, he thought, and poked her in the back. She whirled around.
“Merlin, Potter, don’t””
The rest of her sentence was cut off as James pulled her closer and kissed her. Her saw her eyes widen in shock, and for a blissful second, James was sure she was kissing him back. That is, until she ripped herself away and slapped him across the face.
“Ow!” he gasped, gingerly patting his smarting cheek.
“What were you thinking?!” she cried, angry and indignant.
“It was a dare! Honestly, it was just a dare!”
“And who dared you?” Lily asked, her green eyes narrowing into slits.
“Sirius,” James admitted. Lily walked over to where Sirius was sniggering at his mate and slapped him, too.
“Jeez, Evans, what was that for?” Sirius moaned, staggering backward with the force of her blow. Now it was Lily’s friends’ turn to snigger.
“You know perfectly well what that was for, Sirius Black, and don’t pretend otherwise,” Lily hissed, then turned on her heel and marched back to James, who shrank back in fear.
“Never,” Lily whispered, her face an inch from James’, “do that again. Get it?”
“Got it.”
“Doubt it.”
With that, Lily spun around and saw that a large number of Gryffindors were gathered around, preferring to watch the first year drama instead of joining the victorious parade back to the castle. When Lily pulled out her wand, however, they suddenly decided that being early for the party wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Severus Snape was in a bad mood. Slytherin had just been murdered by Gryffindor, and what’s more, he had bet on the outcome of the match with Rodolphus Lestrange.
His eyes flicked, as they so often did, to the Gryffindor section, searching out Lily Evans. She was jumping up and down in celebration with some other first year girls. A sad smile played on his lips. She looked so pretty when she was happy. Then again, he reminded himself, this is Lily we’re talking about. She looks so pretty doing just about anything!
Suddenly, his small happiness turned to horror. He saw things as if in slow motion.
Lily turned, her red hair swinging around, and she was in James Potter’s arms, kissing him.
Severus closed his eyes, unable to watch any longer. Of course she would choose Potter over himself. Potter was funny, smart and popular. He, Snape, was only the potions geek that no one really talked to. Oh, and he doubled as Potter’s cursing test subject.
Snape opened his eyes slowly, hoping he had somehow imagined it all. But no, when he looked at Lily, she was only and inch away…
He let out a moan of utter despair that all around him associated with losing the Quidditch match. Snape ran blindly for the stairs out of the stands, memories flooding him as he went.
“Evans, Lily!”
A flash of red caught Severus’ eye. The girl walked, trembling only slightly, up to the stool where the Sorting Hat sat.
“Please, Slytherin! Please, Slytherin! Please, Slytherin!” Severus begged in his head.
“GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted. Severus shook his head. Why, he thought, couldn’t Slytherin House get some good-looking girls for a change? I mean, Narcissa Black isn’t bad, but, 1) she’s in fifth year, 2) she’s already going out with Lucius Malfoy, and 3) she’s related to that blood traitor Sirius Black who’s in Gryffindor. So much for her.
Severus watched as Lily Evans sat down next to aforementioned blood traitor and they began chatting like old friends. He shook his head. This one will have a LOT to learn…
* * *
He ran through the door of the dungeon room, breathing heavily. He had managed to get to Potions five minutes early. Severus ran up to Slughorn’s desk.
“Professor,” he wheezed, “can I ask you something?”
“Ah, Severus, m’boy!” Slughorn exclaimed. “What can I do for you?”
“Can you partner me with Lily Evans? And can you not tell her I requested it?”
“A secret Slytherin-Gryffindor romance, is it? Don’t worry, m’boy, I won’t tell a soul!”
“It’s not a romance!” Snape protested, blushing. “And she should be in Slytherin!”
“Who should be in Slytherin?” Lily asked coolly, breezing past Severus. He thought fast.
“Mia,” he answered. “I mean, she’s a pure-blood, so she should be with the rest of her kind!”
It was the wrong thing to say.
“The rest of her…” Lily repeated. “How dare you! Mia is as much a Gryffindor as anyone! Her father’s side of the family has been in Gryffindor for as long as anyone can remember! And what do you mean, ‘the rest of her kind’? What is everyone else? Subhuman?”
“Please,” Severus pleaded. “I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s perfectly clear what you meant, Snivellus,” Lily replied, using for the first time the Marauders’ nickname for him…
* * *
And now this. Snape wanted Lily to be happy, but not if her happiness included James Potter. There’s only one thing for it, he thought grimly. Sabotage.
Thanks for the Memories by tiger_lily821
Chapter Notes: Yes, this is the insane side of our lovely Marauders that we've all been waiting for! Mental stuff will abound, be it duly noted.