The girl nodded once, then turned to go head inside. Lily watched for a moment, then called, “Tomorrow, before the match. Meet me at Lachlan the Lanky.”
She saw an arm rise in a wave. Satisfied, Lily closed the distance to the school. As she reached James, he said, “Everything all right?”
She nodded with a smile, returned his embrace. “It will be. With time, patience, and strength of heart.”
He stared at her, then exploded in a snort. “Right. You are so full of it, Lily.”
Pouting, she let him slip his arm around her shoulders and lead her into the warmth of the castle. “That’s what she said.”
“Then it’s most likely true.” He laughed and held her fast when she humphed and tried to pull away. He turned them to the right at the main staircase. “I’m hungry.”
“We just ate lunch a couple of hours ago!”
“And I’ve been hungry for a couple of hours.”
They reached a large painting that depicted a bowl of fruit. Releasing Lily, James raised his arm and tickled the pear. It giggled and morphed into a door handle. James clasped Lily’s hand, then walked into the kitchens.
“I’m going to get fat while I’m pretending to date you.”
“Nah. You’re too much of a control freak.” He picked up a large tray of assorted chocolates from the “Gryffindor table.” “You can restrain yourself from succumbing to temptation…” He circled the plate in front of her face, taunting her. “…Right?”
World War Three waged a bloody battle in her mind, then her will waved the white flag. She snatched up a heart-shaped chocolate and popped it into her mouth while he chuckled. “Bite me,” she invited around the caramel filling. Swallowing, she eyed his stomach and commented lightly, “At least I don’t have a jelly belly…”
He grabbed a cream puff off a random tray and mashed it against her mouth.
They asked the elves, who all seemed whole-heartedly devoted to “Master Potter,” for some sliced apples to munch on as they made their way up to Gryffindor Tower.
When they entered the Common Room, Lily was holding the bowl of fruit, and James had one arm hooked around her waist while the other retrieved apple slices. They knew there were more than a few speculative looks sent their way, but they pretended nothing was out of the ordinary.
Lily graciously accepted the last piece when James offered it to her, then she kissed him on the cheek, whispering in his ear, “I’m going to go tell her—if she’ll listen to me,” and went to find Penny upstairs.
James joined the other three Marauders at a table near the fire. They were slouching, shoulders hunched, looking completely bored.
“I’ll figure this out, you know,” Sirius vowed as he glared at his best mate. “Lily can’t all of a sudden love you when she had hated you for so long. Hell, she hated you less than a week ago!”
“You’ll never understand what’s between us, Padfoot,” James replied honestly, pulling up a chair. “I don’t know if I understand it myself.” He leaned forward to finger the abandoned deck of Exploding Snap cards. “Anybody up for a go? I’m feeling right lucky.”
Lily didn’t knock; why would she need to? It’s her dorm, too. Just because Penny was upset with her at the moment didn’t mean she couldn’t go into her own room. Opening the door, she stepped over the threshold and was relieved to see it was just Penny doing some homework and that none of their roommates were around.
Penny didn’t look up, didn’t say a word. Lily sighed inwardly and slowly walked into the room.
“If you don’t want to speak to me, fine,” she began, “but because I hate when there’s tension in our relationship, I’ll tell you what’s going on between James and me.”
For a moment there was no reaction before Penny glanced up at Lily and then down at a spot next to her on her bed. Knowing an invitation when she saw one, Lily quickly made herself comfortable, leaning back against the fluffy pillows Penny brought from home because she couldn’t stand the ones that the school provided.
Without waiting for a cue, she began. “Tuesday night—you remember, James blew up, stomped out of dinner, then I followed?” She purposefully left out the part where Sirius followed her, hoping Penny wouldn’t think to ask about that. “I went up to James’s dorm and told him I didn’t want him hung up on me anymore. He, well, wasn’t in any better a mood than he’d been in at dinner…”
He pushed his raging face into hers. “I’d have to say, personally, that after all you’ve put me through, I’m a man. As a man, if I didn’t love you, would I dream about you?” She tried to draw a breath to speak, but he gave her a shake and went on. “Would I see you, night after night, wreaking havoc in my mind, where I couldn’t control you even if I’d tried? Would I dream we were making love, or that you were lost and I couldn’t find you, or that you lied before me on the floor, your blood on my hands? Would I wake up, sweating and crying, wanting what I can’t have and hating myself for it?”
“You’re scaring me,” she whispered.
He smiled at her, an evil twist of lips. “I scare myself, Lily.”
They locked gazes, and for one long, silent moment, they knew only each other’s presence. Finally he sighed and took a step back, his head bowing in defeat. She stayed where she was, still watching him.
“Don’t love you,” he mumbled, as though to himself. “If only I were so fortunate.”
That stung, though she’d never admit it. Her brows furrowed. “James,” she said quietly.
He looked up, and it seemed to her as if the shadows under his eyes had gotten darker. He looked weary, with her, with himself, with the situation.
“I want you to leave me alone,” she whispered. She didn’t know it, but there was pity in her eyes, wells of it. “Please. Just leave me alone.”
She couldn’t have counted how many times she’d said those same exact words. They’d made him angry, they’d made him hurt, they’d made him heartbroken. But never had they brought that bleak, hopeless daze to his hazel eyes.
After a tense, thoughtful pause, he nodded and walked back to the window, resuming the position she’d found him in: back turned, shoulders slumped, mind lost.
Not knowing what else to do, she wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt, took a ragged breath, and turned toward the door.
Just as she was reaching for the knob, he mumbled something. She glanced back. “Beg pardon?”
“See you.”
Her eyes studied his back, then dropped to the floor near her feet. “Oh. Right.” She opened the door.
And closed her eyes tight. She couldn’t leave it like this. If only they were yelling and angry, then it would have felt right to walk out on him. But now it would only feel like she was kicking him while he was down. Pursing her lips, she turned around.
He was staring at her with a grimly bemused expression on his face. Startled, she inhaled sharply, then sighed, lowering her own eyes.
“Could we at least try to be friends?” Her question was thick, heavy, and seemed to hang in the air, drooping.
Slowly he shook his head.
“All right.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, reached up to rub her neck in a discomfited gesture. Then she planted her feet square and raised her chin, looking at him stonily. “But I won’t be your enemy anymore.”
She figured that was the perfect line to stomp out on. She whirled and had one foot out the door when his voice caused her pause yet again.
“Not friends, not enemies.” She turned to see him raise his arms, palm up, in a hopeless gesture. “Then what are we?”
“Acquaintances,” she snapped. “School mates.”
Again he shook his head, started walking toward her, hands in his pockets. “Impossible. We know each other too well.”
“We most certainly do not!” She watched him warily.
“Of course we do.” He came to stand before her. “And the only kinds of relationships to suit how well we know each other are fraternal and romantic.”
“That’s exactly what I just asked, if we could have a fraternal relationship.”
He raised an eyebrow. “And I said no, we could not. Therefore, the only other logical relationship we could share is a romantic one. So—”
“Hold on.” She waited until he looked at her expectantly. “Why can’t we be friends?”
A smile that could only be described as sly stretched his lips as he leaned in close to drawl, “Because, darling, we know so much about each other, and most of that knowledge is intimate—carnal, even.”
She gazed blankly at him. “Right.”
He took on a concerned expression. “Is something wrong, darling?”
“Yes, actually. I do believe you’ve gone completely, absolutely mad.”
“Quite, yes.” He grinned. “That is why I’m about to propose what I am.”
“Oh, God. I don’t want to know.” She whipped around on her heel then.
He followed her to the stairs that led down to the Gryffindor common room. “It’s rather an interesting proposition; you’ll want to hear it, I swear.”
“Somehow I doubt it.”
“Fine. I’ll continue to follow you around everywhere, asking you to marry me. Will you, Lily? Will you marry me?”
“Oh, you bloody idiot!” She turned and met him straight on. “What do you want?”
“For you and I to share a romantic relationship,” he said simply.
“James,” she groaned. “I don’t want to have a romantic relationship with you. I never have, that was our problem.”
“Now you’re getting it, Lily!” he cheered.
She glared, and waited.
He shifted to lean his back against the stone wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “On the rounds of you not feeling anything remotely romantic for a certain male Gryffindor, who has expressed quite a lot of feeling for you, my proposition is for you to pretend to date him, pretend to be in love with the man…for two weeks.”
She eyes him speculatively. “And if I do?”
“There could be two results: one, you end up falling in love with him for real and living happily ever after; or two, you still dislike him. If that’s the case, then he’ll leave you alone forevermore.”
She really didn’t want to play his stupid games, but if it meant he would leave her alone, finally, she figured this was a pretty fair way to get him to realize it wasn’t going to happen. It couldn’t be very hard to not fall in love with him.
“Deal.”
“Blimey.” Penny stared, her eyebrows slowly coming together. “So now I understand why you two act cheesy when walking the beaten path, but do you two still hold hands and stuff away from everyone else?”
“We decided for the deal it had to be two full weeks, not just a quick peck on the cheek when somebody’s looking. Besides, even if there are no students around, in Hogwarts, someone’s always watching.”
Penny nodded, understanding. “This explains a lot.” She glanced up quickly, a smirk stealing over her face. “Are you counting down?”
Lily showed her the backs of her dainty fingers; four had X’s drawn on the knuckles.
Penny gave a bark of laughter. “You only have ten fingers. What’ll you do when you get to Day 11?”
“Toes.”
The next morning dawned bright and early. A fresh snow had fallen overnight, blanketing everything in a gleaming white coat. The sun illuminated the clear, reflective blue sky. It was a beautiful day.
In the seventh year girls’ dormitory, positioned in a chair so that brilliant morning light would shine upon her face, Matilda looked at it, but didn’t see it.
“Oh, honestly. It’s just a bit of powder.” Lily twirled the blush applicator between her thumb and forefinger.
Wringing her hands, Matilda warily eyed the petal-pink dust. “Do I really need blusher?”
Lily leaned back, studying. The girl’s face was luminous already, naturally made up by being put on the spot. She glanced at Penny for her opinion; her friend shrugged.
“I suppose not.” She laid down the brush, then watched Matilda fidget. “That’s it, then.”
“Done?” Hope leapt into Matilda’s eyes.
“Done,” Lily confirmed. She handed her a hand mirror.
Before Matilda had come to Lily for help, she’d been chubby, with a double chin cushioning her throat, hair a frizzy brown mess due to lack of care and use of the wrong products, nails jagged and broken, bitten to the quick, skin dry and pale, lips chapped, and confidence at an all-time low.
After Matilda had come to Lily, she had stood up straight, slimming her figure in the right places and gaining the appearance of a confident, assertive female. She no longer thought herself stupid, or at least helplessly incapable of learning. She knew she didn’t have to be an outcast if she didn’t want to be, but instead could make herself into a person that was fresh, unique, and different.
As Matilda gazed at herself in the mirror, she saw that Lily hadn’t done anything like frosting a cake. Rather, she had shined a rusty buckle. A soft shadow of dark powder lined her whiskey eyes and made them stand out like a beacon in a storm. Her lashes were the same chestnut-colored brown as her hair, but now they emphasized her eyes with a coat of inky black. After several days of religiously applying lip balm, her lips were healed, soft and full.
“Funny thing is,” Lily commented, “I hardly put anything on you. You’re naturally scrumdiddlyumptious.”
Both Penny and Matilda looked at her blankly.
“Charlie and the Choc… It’s a Muggle thing.” Lily hastily moved toward her trunk. “Let me see your hands, Matilda.”
“Look—there’s Remus.”
Penny, Lily, and Matilda had arrived at the pitch, bundled up in their winter cloaks and house scarves. Ignoring the white vapor they produced each time they exhaled, they had kept climbing the stairs to the top of the stands. Penny had scanned the crowd immediately. She pointed, though it wasn’t necessary—several people turned to look and see who calm, quiet Remus was waving at so enthusiastically.
The stands were filling up with students and teachers alike, while the Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch teams were nowhere to be seen. Matilda kept close behind Lily, avoiding eye contact with those who stared instantly or had to double-take as she passed by.
“Am I not supposed to sit with a different house?” she whispered as they neared the seats Remus and Peter had saved for them.
“It’s fine, don’t worry.” Lily glanced back and saw that Matilda was nervously eyeing the patch of Hufflepuff students sitting next to the Gryffindors. She elbowed her gently. “As Head Girl, I know the rules, even for Quidditch matches. A student can sit anywhere in the stands he or she wants. It’s just that the houses typically like to cheer as one for their own.”
Matilda nodded, satisfied. Lily faced forward again to watch where she was stepping; at first she was startled to find Peter gazing at her, then she realized he was fixed on something—someone—behind her. She grinned to herself and surreptitiously informed her friend, “Don’t look now, but one particular Marauder has definitely noticed you.”
Who hasn’t, Matilda wondered to herself. Though she knew it was only her imagination, it seemed like everyone was staring at her. Ironically, she found herself just as self-conscious to everyone’s stares now, when she was supposedly pretty, as she had when she had thought herself an ugly nerd.
Penny had shot ahead and was already deep into conversation with Remus; Lily aimed to protect Matilda as much as she could and took the seat next to Peter. They were chatting with the students sitting around them, waiting for the match to begin, when suddenly a boy spoke above the whole lot. Lily recognized him as a fifth year Gryffindor with a reputation among the opposite sex. Indeed, he and another boy she assumed to be one of his best friends were sitting surrounded by girls. She was momentarily ashamed they were Gryffindors.
“Oy, Lily, who’s your friend?” With an I’m-King-of-the-World smirk (one she briefly remembered adorning James Potter’s face for a time), he nodded in Matilda’s direction.
“This is Matilda, a Hufflepuff,” she replied shortly.
“Matilda…” he murmured, thinking. He sat up and turned further around in his seat. “Funny, I don’t recall you,” he said, addressing Matilda directly this time. “And I would recall you,” he added as his eyes leisurely perused her.
“I’ve been here.” She generously offered him a tight, pleasant smile, then looked over him toward the empty pitch, effectively dismissing him from her attention.
The boy’s pride was wounded, but he didn’t want anyone to know it, so he laughed it off as though she’d made a joke and turned back around.
Just then the announcer, a small third year Ravenclaw boy, announced into the microphone, loud and clear, “And here come the teams Slytherin and Gryffindor!” He gave a slight squeal, his face stretched into a broad, gleeful grin, and clapped his hands. “This ought to be good.”
Even Matilda, who’d never been to a Quidditch match ever, knew that. The age-old rivalry that simmered between the Gryffindor and Slytherin houses always managed to come to a head once a year during the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch match.
Seven players dressed in green and silver and toting broomsticks marched onto the pitch from under the stands; seven more players donned in scarlet and gold entered from under the stands on the opposite side of the field, making tracks in the snow. Lily could hear her imagination drumming out a primitive beat to match their footsteps. Boos and cheers were called for both sides as the crowd all stood (though to Matilda it seemed that most of the boos were aimed at the “filthy snakes”).
Lily watched James stop his team halfway to the center of the pitch. They mounted their broomsticks and kicked off as one in perfect formation, James in front, then the other two Chasers, followed by the Beaters, the Keeper in their wake, and the Seeker brought up the rear. They flew together the rest of the way to meet the Slytherins, who waited to fly until they had reached the center.
As she watched his face, the stern, fierce solidity of it, she was abruptly struck with a revelation: that boy is all mine, a voice in her head purred. She saw his strong, lean shoulders straighten as he faced the Slytherin captain. They shook hands briefly, nodded in agreement to whatever the resident Quidditch expert said, then nodded to their teammates—in an instant they all zoomed off in different directions to take their positions.
Lily saw James turn his head in her direction as he started to do a quick lap around the field. He seemed to make up his mind, and before she fully realized it, he was speeding right at her. Her eyes got big and she leaned back where she stood, as though that would put more distance between them. When he pulled up just short of her above the stands, he was laughing—at her terrified look, she presumed. Then he reached out, dug his gloved fingers into her hair, and bent to kiss her smack on the mouth.
Her eyes closed, not because the kiss was romantic, but so she didn’t have to see the shocked faces of those around her. It was their first actual kiss as a “couple”; he pressed hard and lingered, as though he was branding her and informing everyone of his claim at the same time.
Then he whipped around and was off in a blink. Lily was breathing heavily, staring dazedly after him to the tune of catcalls and jeers from fellow students. Peter looked confused, Penny was roaring with laughter, and Remus looked crossed between the wants to laugh and gape.
“Can he do that?” Matilda whispered after a pause, her tone deep with awe.
Lily swallowed hard and tried to breathe evenly. “He just did.”
After five hours, Slytherin was leading with twenty-five points, whereas Gryffindor only had fifteen. After the Gryffindor Chasers’ last attempt at scoring, which was quickly blocked by the Slytherin Keeper, Remus had leaned over Peter to confide to Lily, “They’ve been practicing.”
Lily had tried to attend at least two of the three Gryffindor matches every year, but last year she was only able to make it to Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. She always had confidence in her house’s ability to win, but had known next to nothing about the Slytherins’ prowess, aside from the biased remarks of “They couldn’t win a match if the Snitch fell right into the Seeker’s hand!” from various members of her house.
Now, however, she could see that the Gryffindors were well matched. She always found it interesting that, in the case of the Gryffindor team, the beaters were macho men, whereas in the case of the Slytherin team, the beaters were always the ugliest of the lot, bulky and hulking over their poor, tiny little broomsticks.
She watched Sirius as he whacked a Bludger that was making a beeline for James. She’d seen him briefly that morning at breakfast; she and Penny were just heading down to the Great Hall when the Quidditch team was leaving to prepare for the match. James had given her a good-morning peck on the cheek in passing when she’d glanced to the side. Sirius had shot her a nasty, suspicious glare that said outright, “I hope to hell and back you know whatever it is you’re doing.”
She shivered at the memory. She concluded that James hadn’t yet told his mates about their deal, and that Sirius must think she was leading on the same best friend he’d warned her not to lead on. Little did he know, if anyone was being led on, it was him.
Suddenly the crowd leapt to their feet, arms in the air and shouting. Lily was jerked into standing by a very overly-enthused Peter, who tugged on her arm and yelled, “They scored, they scored!” Sure enough, the announcer called out, “Ten points for Gryffindor! That brings the two teams even with twenty-five each!”
The next hour was grueling as both teams fought to keep the other from scoring, yet trying to score themselves. One Gryffindor Chaser was taken out by a Bludger, and the referee called a time-out so that the reserve Chaser could be prepped before joining the game.
“I’m hungry,” Matilda hesitantly complained.
Lily gave her a smile of understanding. “On match days, no one eats lunch, because the game usually takes all day, at the very least, and there’s only a handful of people who don’t attend. But don’t worry; there’s an unofficial feast for dinner—if the match is done by then.”
“What do you mean, if?”
“Oh, matches could take days, weeks, or months, even.” Lily bit back a laugh at the look on Matilda’s face. “Matches at Hogwarts rarely take longer than the weekend straight, but I’ve read in Hogwarts, A History that once a match between Gryffindor and Slytherin took ten days. It was a record, one yet to be broken.”
Remus, who had been half-listening as well, leaned over Peter again. “It only took so long because the Gryffindor Seeker—both the starter and the reserve—were knocked unconscious within the first hour of the match. Most still think, though it was never proved, that it was a conspiracy. The referee had disappeared, so no one could call a forfeit. It was up to the Slytherin Seeker to catch the Snitch and end the game; needless to say, that Seeker was blind as bat on the clearest day.”
“So the game can only be ended if the Snitch is caught?” Matilda asked.
“Right,” Lily confirmed. Curious, not patronizing, she then inquired, “Don’t you know about Quidditch, Matilda?”
Color rose to her cheeks, which had gone pale in the chilly February breeze. “Well, I don’t really follow the sport…and I’ve never been to a match before now.”
Peter drew out of the game for a moment and gaped openly at her, while Remus hid his reaction by replying to a tactfully-timed comment of Penny’s.
Lily just smiled. “I didn’t even know such a sport existed until I came to Hogwarts, and even then I wasn’t avid about it, so don’t feel bad. I only attend the matches every once in a while.”
Matilda smiled in thanks, and the match resumed.
The Slytherin Keeper, who hadn’t been paying attention and flew straight into a goalpost, was rushed to the hospital wing. The reserve hadn’t been trained as well as the starter, and the Gryffindor Chasers found it much easier to score against him. Within another three hours, the score had been broken, and both scores rose, though Gryffindor’s considerably faster, bringing them sixty to fourty-five.
The winter day being short, the sun had already sunk below the horizon, and the stadium lights were turned on. Despite them, the Seekers were still at a disadvantage, because the Snitch didn’t have strict boundaries. The Gryffindor Beater that was not Sirius was playing with a broken arm, the result of being off on his aim as he tried to hit a Bludger. The Keeper had nearly fallen off his broomstick once as he reached for, and missed, the Quaffle.
When she knew it had to be nearly seven o’clock, Lily was just wondering how many days it would take for circulation to return to her behind when a Gryffindor spectator screamed, “The Seekers!” The crowd stood again to watch as first the Gryffindor Seeker went into a sharp dive, followed by the Slytherin Seeker. The Gryffindor Seeker pulled back abruptly and zoomed off in the opposite direction; the Slytherin Seeker was slow to catch on to the fact that he had been duped. When he finally realized, the Gryffindor Seeker had fallen off her broomstick as she made a wild grab for the Snitch.
The stands gasped as one, and the teachers pulled out their wands to slow the girl’s descent to the snow. Before they could cast a spell, however, James, laughing and whooping, flew to the girl and caught her on his broomstick. There, the girl faced the announcer’s booth and waved her hand, which was closed in a fist around something gold.
“SHE’S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS TWO-THIRTY-FIVE TO SIXTY!!” squealed the announcer.
“Just so you know,” Peter panted to Matilda as they all made their way down to the pitch to congratulate the winning team, “this is usually the result of a Gryffindor versus Slytherin match.”
Matilda glanced at Lily, not sure what he meant.
“Gryffindor wins!” he yelled, and ran off in James’s direction.
Much later, after the delicious and bountiful feast in the Great Hall, and the one that followed in the Gryffindor Common Room, Lily, as Head Girl, set off to walk through the corridors on each floor to make sure there were no after-party stragglers. Matilda was with her, having been snuck into the Gryffindor common room to join the celebration with her new friends.
Wands lit, they talked about inconsequential things as they slowly made their way down the six flights of stairs to the Entrance Hall. Only once did they find someone in a place they shouldn’t be: a couple snogging in a broom cupboard on the third floor.
When they reached the first floor, Matilda finally brought up the subject that both had been waiting to discuss. “He never even spoke to me,” she said quietly as they slowly made their way toward the door that led to the Hufflepuff common room.
“No, but I saw him looking at you quite a bit,” Lily replied. “If McGonagall had come in fifteen minutes later, I think he would have approached you.” That failed to perk her friend up, so Lily gently nudged her with her shoulder. “I think he was avoiding us—actually I’m pretty sure he was avoiding me, and you just happened to be avoided indirectly, too, since you stayed near me.”
Matilda turned her head, brows frowning. “Why would he be avoiding you?”
As she told Penny before, in Hogwarts there was always someone watching, therefore probably listening as well, so Lily whispered to Matilda the deal she’d made with James. “Sirius doesn’t know what’s going on yet, and it’s making him crazy. He doesn’t like me so much right now. That is why he would be avoiding me.”
“Oh. Hmm…” hummed Matilda. “This situation you’ve gotten yourself into could be an advantage to us.”
Interested, Lily cocked her head. “How so?” They still spoke in low voices.
“I spend time with you, and Sirius spends time with James. You’re stuck with James for the next several days, therefore making it likely that we’ll all be together. Often.”
“I see…” They stopped and stood close together, heads bent as they conspired. “Tomorrow’s Monday and we’ve got separate classes,” Lily continued, “but you can come eat breakfast and dinner with me. All right?” Matilda nodded. “Right. You’ve got the cosmetics I gave you and you remember how to put them on?” The girl patted her pocket. “Good. See you in the morning, then.” They smiled at each other and went their separate directions.
Lily walked the lengths of each corridor one last time as she made her way up. She heard it first on the third floor—very quiet, steady footsteps behind her own. They weren’t hurrying to keep up, so Lily deduced that who—or what, for that matter, it being Hogwarts and all—ever was following her, it had a long stride.
She could think of two people it would probably be: James or Peeves the poltergeist. Then she could have hit herself in the head; Peeves hovered, not walked, he wouldn’t have a long stride in any case, and he wasn’t exactly subtle in his pranks.
By the time she’d reached the sixth floor, the footsteps were still there, stalking her, and she was pretty confident it was James planning to scare the daylights out of her (and probably not having a hard time watching the back of her as she walked). She took a deep breath, then calmly said, “I know you’re there, James.”
She didn’t expect it. Before she’d even finished speaking, the footsteps began to run. The next second, a large hand covered her mouth and another wrapped around her waist after knocking her wand out of her hand. It hit the floor and her Lumos spell deactivated. Instantly she struggled, bucking and waving her arms. She didn’t hear her captor open a door, then shut it.
“Stop—ow!—stop it!” said a deep voice.
The adrenaline just getting started, she threw a wild punch in the dark. Her fist connected with something warm and solid; the sharp expulsion of air told her she’d hit whoever it was in the stomach.
“Damn it, Lily!” came a gasp. “Stop!”
The voice finally permeated her mind, and recognition occurred. “Sirius?”
“Yeah.” She heard him do some deep breathing, probably recovering from her blow. “Damn, you punch hard.”
“Adrenaline,” she said simply. Then she stomped her foot. “You prat! What were you playing at, grabbing me like that? You scared me.” She let her shoulders droop as delayed reaction set in by way of trembling. She rubbed her arms to chase away the gooseflesh. “I thought you were James.”
“So I heard,” he said dryly. Suddenly there was a burst of light as he lit his wand; Lily was temporarily blinded.
With the light, she realized he’d dragged her into an unused classroom. Annoyed and not a little tired, she demanded peevishly, “What are you on about?”
“What am I on about?” He faced her, and the shadows playing over his face made it look all the more ominous. “What are you on about?”
“Me? I haven’t done anything!”
“Except stroll about, carrying on with James as though you’re suddenly in love with him.”
“Who says I’m not?”
“Lily, stop it!” he bellowed, seeming to be near his wits’ end. “I’m not having it. Something’s going on, and neither of you are telling me about it.”
“Why do you have to know? It’s our business.”
There was a pause, then he sighed. “Besides the fact that James’s business is usually my business, too, I…just don’t want either of you to get hurt in this little game of yours I know nothing about.”
She softened. “We won’t get hurt.”
“I think I can make a good guess at what it is you two are doing, and if I’m right, I’m not so sure it’s you I have to worry about getting hurt.”
She cast her eyes down, because she knew he was right. “We’ll be fine.”
She saw his feet take a step until his toes were touching hers. Looking up quickly, she almost bumped her head on his chin. Having an idea about where this was heading, she placed a warning hand on his chest. “This time I actually am James’s property. Sort of. Temporarily.”
“Well, if you’re only sort of James’s property…” Never breaking eye contact, he slowly raised his hands to bury them in her mass of curls. “…I think one kiss will be all right…” He leaned in, and she closed her eyes as he lightly kissed her forehead. “…Besides…” Her chin. “…He doesn’t have to know.” And then his lips—those soft, full lips—settled over hers.
Her hands rose to grip his forearms. He didn’t start out light as he had before, but dove right in, parting her lips and invading. He knew the territory this time, and he didn’t waste a moment.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Lily knew she could—and probably should—pull away. Then she tried to reason why she shouldn’t feel guilty for not doing so. She wasn’t technically James’s girlfriend, only pretending to be…however, she knew she wouldn’t be kissing another boy if she were his real girlfriend, and since she’s supposed to be pretending she is his real girlfriend… She gave it up and put herself into the kiss.
Clothes rustled, lips sucked. Moans, both hers and his, echoed in the still room. Their arms were constantly shifting, trying to pull the other closer. At one point his wand dropped to the floor and went out, plunging them into complete black. In the darkness, his hands sought the buttons that ran down the front of her white uniform blouse. She never realized he’d opened her shirt until she felt his strong fingers rubbing her delicate skin.
She couldn’t help it—twitching, she drew back in giggles. “That tickles!”
There was a moment in which nothing could be heard but quickened breathing. Then he let out a huff of laughter. “Of course.”
The mood broken, Lily’s mind started working again. As she regained her breath, she also regained her sanity.
“Oh.” It was a whisper. “Oh, no…no, no, no.” She felt heat rise to her cheeks as she refastened her blouse. She was embarrassed even though she knew he couldn’t see her in the darkness. “I’m going to bed. Now, right now.”
He laughed dryly again, picking up his wand and relighting it. “I don’t suppose I could join you.” It was more a statement than a question, as though he already knew what the answer would have been anyway.
“Ha ha…no.” Clothes straightened, she headed for the door.
He snagged her wrist, pulled her back. When she heartily resisted, he assured her, “I won’t kiss you again, however much I may want to.” He gathered her in and rested his forehead on hers. “Why can’t I resist you, Lily Evans?”
“I don’t know,” she said sincerely. Sighing, she pushed away. “But you’re going to have to. Good night.”
Making sure to grab her wand off the ground in the corridor, she went to bed.
