The Turn, Part Two
James scrubbed at his sticky hands, a strange feeling coursing through him. A small voice in the back of his mind screamed at him that Sirius had done something to his juice when he'd spilled it, but rational thoughts were quickly drowned out by an overwhelming feeling of recklessness coupled with a desperate need to fulfill all of his innermost desires right there, right then. Starting with Lily Evans, who was standing in front of him.
Instead, he stood up and rushed from the Great Hall to the nearest bathroom to wash his hands, splashing water on his face in the hope that it would help take away the flood of sudden adrenaline. Leaning over the sink, he breathed deeply, willing himself not to be sick.
"You okay, Potter?" said a voice behind him. James looked up into the mirror, eyes wide. Thomas Kirke, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, stood behind him, frowning. "You look a bit peaky."
"I'm fine," James muttered, trying to put down the unexpected impulse to turn and punch him in the face for what he'd said to Cynthia Morris that morning. "Rough lunch, those chips."
"Rough practice," Kirke replied with a rueful laugh. "We really need to get you, Morris, and Phillips on the same playing field before the final or we're sunk."
James felt his blood begin to boil as Kirke continued talking about the poor practice that morning. Cynthia, one of his Chasing partners, was also his friend and had been extremely upset after the morning practice. James had tried to talk to her, but she had shook her head and hurried out with tears in her eyes, obviously wanting to be alone. He had tried to talk to Kirke about it as well, but their focused captain had brooked no argument: she hadn't played well and needed to get better fast or he was going to replace her. James had left frustrated and annoyed, wanting to knock some sense into a captain who had reduced one of his best players to tears over one bad practice, yet knowing it would only make things worse.
Now he faced Kirke again, but what was holding him back? Nothing.
It started with just yelling. Kirke frowned, but stayed calm; he was a captain, after all, and used to his players getting upset at him. That irritated James even more, and so he finally pulled back and let fly with a balled fist to Kirke's face. He wasn't even sure why, only that was his impulse, and while normally he would have barely let it cross his mind, for some reason it seemed perfectly natural at that moment to go with it and cock the git.
Kirke blocked him, so he threw another punch that connected and caught Kirke right on the jaw. Kirke staggered backwards.
"What the hell, Potter?" he gasped, hand to his face where an ugly bruise would be sure to form. "You don't have a thing for her, do you?"
That stopped him, since it was the farthest thing from the truth Kirke could have said. In fact, the question triggered another impulse, and the desire to beat his Quidditch captain into the dirt disappeared almost instantly. It was strange flitting from one emotion to the next so quickly, but James could only go with it; he had no will to stop.
He clapped Kirke on the shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tom. I'm really not feeling well. I should go lie down or something."
Kirke just nodded absently as he eyed his jaw in the mirror. "Or get yourself to the hospital wing. I don’t want my best Chaser going mental on me next week."
James was already on his way out of the bathroom, determined to follow through with his chaotic thoughts. He hurried toward the Great Hall, ignoring anyone who tried to get his attention. He practically ran over a group of fifth-years and blew past Professor McGonagall trying to get his attention. He felt great--better than he had for days, even weeks. He felt like there wasn't a thing in the world he needed to worry about right then. He was free to spend the day following his every whim, and he was surprised to find just how many he had to follow.
He rushed into Great Hall, hoping Lily was still there. Remus was sitting with Peter, though, and told him she'd gone outside after lunch. Thanking him, James dashed through the Entrance Hall, hoping to find her on the lawn. His mind was already filling with romantic thoughts--and some a bit more passionate.
Lily was sitting on a blanket with some friends, talking and laughing. It was cloudy but warm, and the breeze blew strands of her brilliant red hair across her freckled face. The sound of her voice was like music to his ears, and her eyes like a meadow of deep green grass.
"Hey Evans!" James called, more superfluous comparisons flitting about his brain. He did manage to stop them from coming out of his mouth, though, since he knew how ridiculous it would sound, and he wasn't keen on embarrassing himself.
Lily stood and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Yes?"
"Can we talk?" James asked. There were an awful lot of people on the stairs watching him, and he decided he wanted to talk to her privately, if only for a better snog. "Alone?"
Lily raised her eyebrows and gave him a small smile. "Er, here is fine. I'm not sure how much I trust you today."
James frowned, then shook his head, letting the overwhelming impulse to tell her everything override any embarrassment he might feel now that half the school were watching.
"Fine. Here goes." He took a deep breath and started. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Remus and Peter coming down the steps; he ignored them.
"You're annoying." Her face blanched, but he carried on. "You're bossy and arrogant and bloody irritating as hell." Everyone on the lawn had turned and was watching now, but he didn't care. The hurt look in her eyes almost stopped him, but he knew he could change that.
"You're also the most beautiful, brilliant, kind, clever, and amazing person I've ever met, and I've been in love with you for the last six months." Now her mouth was hanging open in shock, her arms slack by her side. James took one quick step toward her, took her face in his hands, and kissed her like he'd been wanting to kiss her for months.
It was the most impulsive, idiotic thing he'd ever done, and the most incredible.
She resisted at first, then closed her eyes and opened her mouth to his, returning the kiss with feeling, a passion that surprised him and stole his breath away. The impulse to wrap his arms around her and let them roam was overwhelming, and his hands left her face of their own accord to envelop her waist and pull her toward him. Unfortunately, it seemed to shock her back to reality, for with a gasp, she stepped back, staggering slightly as her fingers flew to her face and touched her lips. Her friends giggled.
"What the hell, James," she whispered. "You can't possibly mean that."
Her stepped toward her, desperate to feel her body against his once more. "I do. I've never meant it more."
"You're under a spell, a potion," she murmured. "You don't know what you're saying."
"It doesn't matter," he said, reaching for her hand. He vaguely recognized that she was right, that Sirius had done something to him at lunch, but it didn't matter. "I still love you."
"All right, loverboy," murmured a voice in his ear. "Let's go before you end up proposing." A hand steered him away and pulled him toward the lake. Struck by the sudden urge to go swimming, James didn't resist.
"She's right, you know," said Remus. "It's the potion speaking." James glanced behind him. Peter was talking to Lily, probably trying to explain, but she was hardly listening to him, staring at James instead with a slightly dazed look on her face. He smiled at her, and she smiled back, and James knew Remus was wrong, so he ignored him.
Instead, he stripped off his shirt and shoes and dived into the lake. The students lounging on the shore whooped and hollered. He grinned and waved, enjoying the shocking cold of the water against his skin and the cheers of the onlookers on the shore.
What a brilliant day.
Remus and Peter did not join him. He tried to cajole them into jumping in, but they just stood on the shore, arms crossed over their chest and exasperated looks on their faces. He almost felt a bit sorry for them.
Finally they persuaded him to come out, though only because he was growing cold and there so many other things he wanted to do. He waved his wand and dried himself before pulling his clothes back on. Turning to his friends, James grinned. "What's next then?"
Remus just shook his head while Peter snorted. They tried to drag him back to the castle, and James let them…making sure they took every secret passage they could. They explored parts of the castle they hadn't been to in years, snuck up on several couples snogging in the window wells, and stopped by the kitchens for a snack. By mid-afternoon Peter begged to go back to Gryffindor and sit down. James finally agreed. To be honest, they were getting a bit boring. He'd suggested heading into the Forest or to Hogsmeade several times, but they wouldn't hear of it. If they went back to Gryffindor, James could just grab his invisibility cloak and go, leaving them behind to study with Sirius if they wanted.
Peter fell into a chair as soon as they entered the common room, throwing his legs over the edge with a satisfied sigh. Remus settled on the couch, still keeping an eye on James. Why was he watching him so closely? He wasn't going to get in trouble; he just wanted to enjoy the day to it's fullest. James stretched and yawned, causing Remus to raise a disbelieving eyebrow.
"I'm going to go up to the dorm and lay down," said James. "Be back in a bit."
Remus watched him go; James was glad he didn't follow. As soon as he was in the dorm, he sprinted to the trunk by his bed, tossing things over his shoulder as he searched for both his cloak and the Marauder's Map. He grinned when he found the map and tapped it: Sirius was still in the library, likely surrounded by a stack of books. Remus and Peter were in the common room, while Lily was in her dorm, alone.
He thought about sneaking over to see her, but then two other names caught his attention: Cynthia Morris was with Thomas Kirke out on the Quidditch pitch. He decided to go see what they were up to, then maybe head out to the Forest like he'd planned.
Tossing the cloak around his shoulders, James crept down the stairs and over to the portrait hole. He was fortunate: a group of third-years were leaving, and he simply followed them out, leaving Remus and Peter sitting by the fire without suspecting a thing.
Whistling as he practically skipped through the castle, James couldn't resist the urge to cast a hex at a group of Slytherins heading down toward the dungeons. He caught Severus Snape in the back and stifled a laugh as he tripped, falling into a large seventh-year girl who hissed at him under her breath. Snape looked about ready to jinx her, but obviously thought better of it as he muttered an apology, glancing around for whoever had tripped him.
James headed outside, laughing to himself. The clouds had darkened and most of the students had gone inside as the temperature had dropped. James wished he had a jumper but shrugged it off; he had the cloak. Hurrying down to the Quidditch pitch, he tried to imagine what Cynthia was doing there with Kirke. Planning? Practicing? Fighting?
He was stunned to find them just outside the changing room, snogging instead.
He watched for a while, trying to puzzle it out. They way they were engaged--quite enthusiastically, if he were any judge--made him think this was a very new and very recent development. Which was odd, considering what had happened at practice that morning. Maybe that's why they had both been upset: their heated emotions had got the better of them, and now they had figured it out.
Shaking his head, James finally turned and headed into the Forest. He decided to go for a run before heading to Hogsmeade. It occurred to him that maybe he shouldn't be transforming with his thoughts running so quick and wild, but he seemed to lack the ability to stop himself from doing anything that might be even remotely unsafe, so he did anyway.
James relished in the feel of powerful forelegs as he bounded off through the trees. He delighted in the sensation of strength coursing through him, in his heightened senses as the woods hummed and twittered around him. It was a glorious thing, to run as a stag and still keep his human mind. He reveled in the magic that could turn a man into a beast and yet allow him all the majesty of the animal and none of its feral nature.
He bounded through the undergrowth, over small brooks, across fallen trees. He stopped to drink at a small spring where he had once seen centaurs. He continued on, stopping in a glen of tall grass to rest, before all too soon it began to grown dark, and he began to feel hungry. And although the stag in him was happy to search for grass or berries, the human in him decided he wanted something more substantial, so he galloped toward the edge of the forest, coming out not far from Hogsmeade.
Changing back, James headed for the road and hurried into town, hands tucked into his pockets as the wind picked up and threw a stiff breeze in his face. Lightning flashed in the distance. He decided to go straight to the Three Broomsticks for something warm. He knew that he probably shouldn't be seen somewhere so public, since students weren't allowed off grounds except on Hogsmeade weekends, but he wasn't up for the more dodgy Hog's Head on his own. Again he missed Sirius, likely still sitting alone with his books.
Before he opened the door, James stepped to the side and took out his wand, murmuring a simple Transfiguration spell. Running a hand through his hair, he found it slightly longer and lighter. He rubbed his fingers over his chin, where the small bit of stubble he hadn't bothered shaving that morning had grown into a short beard. And he Disillusioned his eyeglasses, completing his disguise, before stepping into the Three Broomsticks with a slightly nervous grin.
No one gave him a second glance, which told him his disguise must have been working. He sat down at the bar and ordered a Firewhisky from the middle-aged barman. To his delight, Rosmerta brought it over.
"Well, look what the dragon blew in," she murmured as she wiped off the bar and handed him his drink. "James Potter or Sirius Black, by the looks of it."
"Don't know who you're talking about," James replied, too late realizing he had probably given it away: he'd have to remember to disguise his voice next time as well.
"Sneaking out alone, are we, Mr. Potter?" she continued, leaning back and crossing her hands over her chest. "Had a row with your mates?"
"Maybe I'm tired of Sirius getting all the attention around here," James grumbled. It was only partially true: Sirius was far too good at chatting up anyone who walked through the door. It might be nice to strike up a conversation with a pretty girl who wasn't staring at his best friend instead.
Glancing around the pub and the mostly male clientele, James realized that likely wouldn't happen. And then he had to admit that he wasn't really there for that anyway. He'd kissed Lily Evans, and she had certainly kissed him back; why would he want some random encounter with a stranger in a pub after that?
Rosmerta leaned forward, her ample bosom quite visible as she licked her lips and smiled seductively at him. "He doesn't get all the attention, James," she whispered, fingertips brushing against his wrist. James took a sip of Firewhisky and started coughing; Rosmerta just stepped away, laughing. She was taking the mickey, and he probably deserved it.
With a sigh, he turned around and noticed a group of wizards not much older than him at a table in the back. They were playing Wizard's Wheel, a cutthroat card game that usually involved copious amounts of alcohol and money. The fancy struck him to head over and join them.
Two hours, three Firewhiskys, and several Galleons later, James stumbled out of the Three Broomsticks laughing. His new friends asked if he'd like to join them for an even more questionable game of Witches and Wenches at the Hog's Head, but he begged off, really not in the mood for something quite so…risqué. He was actually rather pissed and felt like crashing in the Gryffindor common room more than anything.
James stopped in the road, unsure how to get back to Hogwarts. He certainly couldn't transform back into a stag and sneak in through the forest, and the main gates would be locked. Honeydukes was closed, which meant the best of the secret passageways back were closed as well. He'd have to take the passage from Zonko's to the fourth floor mirror, although he hated that one because it always felt in danger of collapsing, and half the trip had to be made on hands and knees.
But Zonko's was open late for the holiday, so Zonko's it was. He crawled through the passage, swearing as loudly as he could and trying to think of the open sky and flying and Quidditch. He came to the section where he could at least stand up and swore some more as dirt and rock fluttered around him. He decided that as soon as he got out of the tunnel he was going to grab his broom and fly out his dorm window. Or better yet, jump from the Astronomy Tower. Yes, that would erase the claustrophobia clawing at him: an evening ride through the castle turrets. Never mind it probably wasn't allowed; he wasn't entirely sure it was an actual rule anyway, and he was a strong flyer.
He finally came to the large cavern behind the mirror. Muttering the spell that would let him out, he sighed with relief when his feet touched the cool stone of the castle corridor. He stepped out from behind the mirror, removing the Transfiguration charms he'd used in the village. He checked the Marauder's Map to be sure no one was about, then tossed the invisibility cloak around his shoulders and headed back toward Gryffindor, his mind set on grabbing his broom and getting up to the Astronomy tower before it started raining.
When he got to the portrait hole and whispered the password, the Fat Lady glanced around, trying to find him. He stifled a laugh as he showed his face. She frowned.
"And what are you sneaking around for, James Potter?" she whispered. "There are several people looking for you, you know."
"Then be sure to tell them you never saw me," James whispered back. He edged in as quietly as he could. He hoped no one saw the door open and shut on its own, but of course Lily Evans glanced right at him and frowned. She was sitting with Remus, which seemed odd, but James put it out of his mind and hurried up to his dorm as quietly as he could.
To James's dismay, Peter was sprawled across his bed, working on his Charms essay. James thought for a moment, then tip-toed into the room, his wand out. He murmured a spell at Peter, apologizing in his mind as Peter glanced around the room, a confused look on his face.
"Remus? Is that you?" Another flick of the wand and Peter stood up, grumbling to himself. He headed out the door, thinking Remus had called him. James took the opportunity to dash to his trunk, grab his Quidditch gear, and run back down the stairs. He almost knocked Peter over as he returned, still grumbling under his breath. He stopped and stared down the steps as James flew by him, and James had to control his own laugh at having pulled one over on his friend so easily. It was a bit shameless, really.
Hurrying back out through the portrait hole, James ignored the Fat Lady admonishing him to stay out of trouble. He wasn't going to get in trouble, he was just going to indulge another whim before it was too late. He made his way to the Astronomy tower, surprised at how few students were out since it couldn't be that late. He was not surprised to see Anastasia Harrison chatting up some sixth-year in a window well, however, and couldn't resist sending a simple Tongue-Tie Jinx at them. He almost stayed to watch them stutter at each other, but the clouds were calling him, and he finally arrived at his destination, ready to fly.
Striding up the stairs, James laughed to himself once more. He'd often wondered what it would be like to sail from the top of the Astronomy Tower and soar above the castle. It was too bad it was cloudy, as he'd prefer a clear, starry night for it. Fortunately, there were distant flashes of lightning that would light his way, providing the perfect backdrop for his nocturnal ride. He just wished he weren't alone.
As if in answer to his thought, he heard a sound behind him, and Lily Evans stepped from the shadows. He shook his head as a confusing flood of desire rushed through him.
"Have you been following me?" he asked, then stopped to think about it. He'd been invisible. "And if so, how?"
"Remus told me you'd likely be sneaking around under your cloak," she said, nodding at the garment over his arm. "I just happened to see the portrait hole open and close by itself and figured it was you."
"Very good," he murmured, the impulse to fly tugging him back toward the parapet. "So why did you follow me then?"
"Because they're worried you're going to do something stupid and dangerous." She paused. "And apparently they're right."
He pulled out his broom and adjusted the seat. "It's not dangerous. It's daring." He threw his leg over the smooth oak handle and tried to get himself comfortable.
"James!" she exclaimed, running across the tower toward him. "You could die."
"Come on, Lily--give me a bit of credit." He was hurt that she thought so little of his skills. "I'm a better flyer than that."
"Not without any impulse control," she replied, coming to stand next to him. He felt his body respond to her closeness almost immediately. "Your judgment is impaired."
"I can fly," he repeated, but he was staring into her eyes, all thoughts of flying slowly disappearing. He wanted to take her and comfort her and let her know that he'd be all right, that there wasn’t anything to worry about.
Before she could speak, there was a crack of lightning and a deafening rumble of thunder shook the air around them. The sky abruptly opened up. James looked up in shock; Lily raised her eyebrows at him when he turned back to her.
"You can't fly in this!" she shouted. "It's insane!"
"I'll be fine!" he shouted back. For some reason, the fact that she was trying to stop him made him want to try it even more.
"James, we need to talk!" she said, equally as loud. "And not about flying."
He stepped off his broom and cast an Umbrella Charm. The rain splashed around them, no longer soaking them, but then they were already drenched. Lily's hair was plastered to her hair, small drops of rain still falling from her eyelashes. She had never looked more beautiful.
"Thank you," she said, in a more normal tone. "James, you know Sirius gave you a potion, right?"
"Yes, I figured he did," James replied with a shrug. "I'm sure it will wear off eventually, they always do."
She shook her head in exasperation. "You two. No, the potion is making you act like this--reckless, impulsive."
"What's wrong with that?" he asked. "I'm having a great time, and I'm still in one piece."
She seemed uncomfortable. "Well, what about what happened on the lawn this afternoon…that was, um…"
He smiled at her, not a reckless, impulsive grin, but as sincerely and as warmly as he could in the cold rain. "It was amazing. Really, Lily--potion or not, I don't regret it one bit."
She stared at him, chewing her lip. "But did you mean it?"
"Of course I meant it!" he exclaimed, taking a step closer. "I just couldn't tell you. I guess it's the reckless, impulsive part of the potion that finally let me."
She didn't say anything, and he wondered if she believed him, or if he had scared her, or if she were even repulsed. He took a more tentative step toward her and reached out for her hand.
"I'm sorry if I was out of line this afternoon," he murmured, letting his fingers trace circles across her palm. Her mouth parted slightly in response, and he felt his own pulse quicken as he took one last step forward and tilted her chin up to his face with his other hand. "But I mean it now, and I'll mean it tomorrow, and I'll mean it a year from now."
"James Potter, you are an idiot," she murmured, but she leaned toward him and pressed her lips to his before he could even lean forward. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her back. It was even more amazing than when he'd kissed her on the lawn, and to his embarrassment the Umbrella Charm failed and they were drenched once again, tenderly exploring one another in the pouring rain. James could have stood there all night.
But he felt a sharp pain in his back and heard Lily murmur against his lips, "I'm sorry, James." Then he fell to the stones beneath him, the world gone darker than the sky above.
* * *
Ricochet by Gmariam
Chapter Endnotes: Well, that's a lot of narrative, I know. It's hard when you are just following one character! But boy did I have fun with some of this, so don't take it too seriously. Hope you did too. Let me know, yeah? And stay tuned--the last part shouldn't be too long in coming!