Good day, most likely non-existent reader. How is your hypothetical life going?
Professor McGonagall’s laws on detention will have you know (through me) that today is Wednesday, April 8th, it is roughly 7:30 pm, and I am once again sitting in the Transfigurations classroom. You know, after all of this extra time I’ve been spending in here, I think that I’m going to make a permanent imprint upon this encroaching space. For example, my frantic words from my earlier journal entries will be carved into this desk due to the ferociousness with which I wrote (future students will sit here and decipher non-linear phrases such as ‘bumbling ignoramus...’, ‘...chuck food for your life...,’ ‘...Evans, Criminal Mastermind’, and ‘...Gobstones’). Furthermore, I think my arse will have made a lasting imprint upon this chair once this is all over.
Well, anyway, I was just thinking forlornly about last Sunday, which just so happened to be a particularly beautiful and sunny early spring day. It’s been getting progressively warmer around Hogwarts, which is quite lovely, of course. However, with the sun, comes a more harried countdown to our NEWT’s.
Phooey! I think that quite adequately expresses my sentiments on the subject. I may be Head Girl and top of most of my classes, but the prospect of a life after NEWTs, a life after Hogwarts, isn’t that scrumptious. You know, what with the finding a paying job, and then paying for, oh, I don’t know, everything.
Also, contradictory to what the professors seem to think, I doubt any of the 7th years are looking forward to sitting through hours and hours of tortuous examinations, scavenging through our brains for that spell we learned when we were twelve that turns toenails into yams, or something just as useful. They are all beginning to buzz with excitement. Honestly, are they really that old that they don’t remember what it was like when they were facing the same thing? Well... I guess that question takes for granted the assumption that our Professors were normal human teenagers, you know, who didn’t find sadistic pleasure in taking NEWTs...
But returning to what I had intended to say, I’ve been spending quite a bit more time studying as of late. And usually, my studying sessions involve finding James and then being led by him to some secret room, in some secluded part of the castle, ‘so as not to be bothered’. We sit together on incredibly plush couches, quizzing each other on Charms, Runes, or Potions, and we never notice how late it gets. We often accidentally stay up past curfew while studying, but we always manage to get back unnoticed. James always knows of some conveniently-located door behind some mouldy tapestry of drunken clergy, or similar mischievousness. I’ve been enjoying myself quite a bit, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more driven to study. Must just be the NEWT panic setting in... Although, I don’t exactly feel panicked. Actually, the environment in our secret rooms when we study is almost light-hearted, and even romantic, I would say...
Erm, that is, I would say, if I were interested in James that way, and if he were in me. I am positive that he no longer is. Interested in me, that is; I’m positive that he isn’t interested in me any longer. He got over me quite quickly, actually. I’m still nonplussed about that, but pleased, of course. And I know for a fact that he is now asserting our platonic relationship to me...
Obviously, though, I’m quite aware of the nature of our relationship, and am in no need of any asserting from him. It is all quite clear to me.
So... Sunday... yes, I think I was talking about this particularly beautiful weekend a while ago. Yes, it was spectacularly sunny. Sophie decided that it would be an absolute travesty to waste such a beautiful day indoors. However, Peter refused point-blank to forsake lunch for sunlight (honestly, this boy can’t go without food for two infinitesimal fractions of a second, how is it he hasn’t grown to be the size of a small mountain troll?) so Remus came up with a compromise: we would take lunch outside too. Let’s call it a picnic.
We sat ourselves down by a shady tree with our picnic basket. Sirius immediately flung himself upon the newly re-growing grass dramatically, Remus found a spot by the tree trunk, Sophie took a seat in the sun, and Rich sat down next to James and I. Peter plopped himself down in the centre of the unintentionally geometrical figure we had formed and exclaimed, “Wow, I’m glad I brought lunch with us.”
Well, I found this statement to be ridden with some irony, as it was Rich who technically ‘brought lunch’ with us, stuffed into that basket that Peter began to dismember in search of all things edible. He started placing around himself sandwiches of all sorts, various healthy fruits [emit sounds of surprise here], crackers, a pitcher of juice, and tomato paste...
May I just comment for a moment on how ludicrous an invention ‘tomato paste’ is? As if tomatoes weren’t gruesome enough on their own, someone decided to drop them into a blender with some leafy herbs and turn the whole mess into goo. Brilliant! Oh, dear, please don’t skimp on those helpings! Bah...
“Well, this is nice,” James conceded. He was smiling lazily, gazing off over the lake.
“I told you lot it would be!” Sophie insisted , leaning her head back to let her face catch the sunlight. “If it’s nice again later this week we could come out here after classes, bring our books...”
“Yeah... at sunset this would be really romantic...” I heard Sirius say. His glance in Sophie’s direction did not escape my deeply observant eyes. Before I could properly formulate this thought, ‘Um... what? Sirius Black thinks something other than third base on a first date is romantic?’ Sirius had added, “It’s just too bad that the Deviant Heads have gone and landed themselves in detention for all of eternity. We could have had those hours to spend together, you know. It’s just too bad.”
“Sirius,” James began. He was sitting quite close to me. I could see the wind ruffling individual strands in his crazy mess of hair, “let me remind you that you have detention tomorrow as well.”
“Really? I do? What for..?”
“For telling Professor Treacle that there is more dirt under her nails than there is in a Flobberworm’s intestines.”
“Oh, yes... well I had to; she was trying to run her gross hands through my hair!” Sirius defended himself sassily.
As I turned to listen to Remus, I found Sirius’ comment to be highly ignorable. “Speaking of detentions, how are those going anyway?” Remus asked.
“What, with McGonagall and the journals of psychosis?” James laughed. There went his hair, shinning and ruffling and being all mesmerizing...
“A mixture of pain and amusement, as usual,” I answered, turning away from James’ hair. (Stupid pretty strands of dead cells!) “She doesn’t take them quite so seriously anymore.”
“Yes, because she accomplished her goal in life and brought you two together in friendship,” Rich replied from my other side. “I think that after that she’s allowed to relax a little.”
“You know what I wish though?” James asked, turning toward me. “I wish she still talked to us about that Muggle soap, La Alma Gemela. I wonder if Marieta managed to escape from her grotesque husband with his brother Simon.”
“Oh, I doubt it,” I replied excitedly. “I bet she’ll only be happy at the very end; you know the episode with all of the weddings and the villain’s demise over a rocky cliff. I was wondering if Theresa decided to keep Antonio’s baby, even after she found out he’s her half-brother.”
Before James could express to me how excited he was about the upcoming revelations, Sirius suddenly exclaimed loudly, pointing at James, “Ay, callate!”
Well... thanks so much Black, for interrupting my soap talk with your horrendously-pronounced Spanish exclamations. Although, looking around I sensed that no one else seemed to share my anger at the interruption.
“That’s quite enough of that conversation, gracias,” Sirius went on. “I drew the line at incest. Prongs, I challenge you to some one-on-one Quidditch.”
“Oh, make that two-on-two,” said Remus as he stood up from the tree trunk. “Me and Wormtail against you and Prongs.”
I glanced toward Sirius to see him smiling ‘angelically’ at his friend. Oh, Merlin’s pantalones! Brace yourself Remus. “You know, Moony, your ardent desire to play must be due to the fact that it’s been a while since you last... rode a broom.”
Ugh. Most of us cringed (except Peter, who laughed with his mouth full) at the innuendo as ‘Moony’ turned red. Might’ve been an innocent comment coming from someone else’s mouth. But this is Sirius Black; he can’t say ‘a hinky-punk’s mandible’ without making it sound inappropriate.
“Fine.” Remus glared at Sirius. “I’ve just rearranged our teams. James and I will play Sirius and Peter. Then you two can have rousing discussion about your favourite broom handling techniques.”
As the group chuckled and Peter chocked on... something, Sirius yelled adamantly, ignoring the laughter and the jibe, “No way! I won’t go with Peter. He just ate the whole bloody basket of food. His poor broomstick is probably going to snap with just the weight of his nose hairs!”
“That was hurtful,” Peter somehow managed to reproach through a mouthful of kiwis.
James joined the argument. “How is this conversation about broomsticks any better than our conversation about soap operas?”
“Oh Merlin!” Sirius sighed angrily. “I can feel my manliness evaporating as we speak. Let’s go whack balls at each other with big clubs, urgently!”
The Marauders laughed appreciatively. James joined and started getting up. As he stood he placed his hand over mine that was resting on my knee...
...And there I go again. Um, heart? Please SHUT UP!
“See you Lily!” he said with a private grin. Then he waved at Sophie and Rich and hurried away after his friends.
I suppose I must have been watching his... I meant to write ‘their’ retreating backs for maybe two seconds too long, because the next thing I knew, Sophie was leaning over to snap her fingers in my face, saying “Earth to Lily!”
I turned sharply towards her and Rich, swatting her hand away. “What! What?”
Sophie was smirking in a very unbecoming fashion. “I called your name three times, Lily. You were so preoccupied with something that you didn’t even hear me.”
I harrumphed and shook my head. “Well, you must’ve been whispering when you called me. I was just watching them leave, I’m sure I would have heard-“
“By ‘them’,” Rich interrupted rudely, “you mean James’ ass, right?”
I spluttered. What? That’s so absurd! It’s ridiculous. I found this comment to be simply preposterous and out of line, and I told Rich so.
“Oh, no, you weren’t watching his ass?” Sophie inquired, still smirking. “Alright then, you were observing his chiselled shoulders.”
“No!” I all but screamed. “I was not-”
“Was it his elegant gait?” Rich asked, interrupting me again. How rude.
“The echo of his laughter?” Sophie rejoined their stupid guessing game.
“Oh, you were thinking about his lingering scent?”
“No! I know, it was the slope of his-”
“Oh Godric, enough already!” I finally snapped. “When will you two stop being so childish?”
The two of them were laughing happily at my bitter discomfort. Such lovely friends, I have. No wonder I throw pies at people. “We’ll stop,” Sophie was saying, “when you finally admit to us that you have a thing for James.”
...Ha. No. Not even at all. I’ll repeat, it’s absurd. Impossible. Ha. Haha.
“No. I do not. We are just friends, and I do not fancy him,” I assured them with dignity.
They didn’t seem to be entirely convinced by my honesty. (Drat.)
“Really?” asked Rich sceptically. “You’re just friends? Yes, yes, I see, that’s why you spent hours and hours plotting against him.”
I snorted. Goodness, my friend is confused. “Well, that was because I hated him then, and wanted-”
“Yes,” Sophie said nodding at Rich amusedly. “Friends often send each other boyfriend-repelling flowers.”
“That is completely beside the point, how is that relevant to-”
“Absolutely,” Rich agreed. Bugger; they really have picked up this sarcasm thing from me. “And friends definitely spend all of their free time together in dark, secret rooms studying by candlelight.”
I blushed. Well... there were no candles, but... codswallop-fizzing-bitch-screaming-stupid-dammit-pickle-headed-drat-it-all-to-hell! They’d made an actual valid point.
I think Sophie saw some sort of struggle on my face, because her voice softened as she said, “Lily, we never even see you anymore because you spend all of your time with him.”
I cringed. Was that true? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize...”
“No, shut up,” said Rich. Well. He knows how to frazzle a sensitive moment. “We don’t want you to apologize. We just want you to admit to yourself and us why you’re spending all of your time with him.”
Well, of course I could answer that. You see, we’ve devised this great NEWT study schedule, and we work quite well together... also... we’ve still got our detentions, and... We’ve just become friends, so... I’m spending more time with him because... well... because we’ve just...
Oh, who am I kidding?
“Fine,” I sighed. “Fine. I... well; I think I might fancy him. There. Fine.”
I think my two best friends have behavioural problems. Rich pointed at me triumphantly, with a wild facial expression, saying “HA!” and Sophie started laughing somewhat maniacally.
“Oh, I knew it. I’ve known it for a while, but it’s still so satisfying to hear you admit it!” She managed to say through her cackles. Evil cackles.
I let them act like crazed apes for a while, my arms crossed over my chest and my face aflame. Have I ever mentioned how much more obvious a violent blush looks on red-heads? It’s just not fair.
Eventually, I had to bring them back to reality. “But it doesn’t make a difference, either way, whether I like him or not. Which, I’ll remind you, I’m not sure of.”
They stared at me, still amused, but now with a dash of confusion. “What are you talking about?” Sophie asked. “You just admitted that you fancy James Potter. Do you know how momentous that is?”
“Maybe for me it’s important. But it won’t make any difference in his life.”
Rich snorted. “Oh, of course he won’t care. He won’t even bat an eye. ‘Oh, what say you? Lily Evans likes me? The girl I’ve been chasing for two years? The girl with the almond-shaped zucchini eyes? Oh, no big ho-hum.’ Yeah, Lily, he won’t care at all.”
“No, he won’t,” I insisted. By Godric, sarcasm could get annoying, I was discovering. “He hasn’t asked me out once since I broke up with Terry. Not once. He hasn’t done any of the things he used to do. He hasn’t composed ballads, or compared me to weird vegetables, or... anything. I think I really am just a friend to him now. So no, he won’t be jumping for joy if he finds out I might like him.”
Rich and Sophie stopped looking devilishly pleased with themselves for once. This was all true; they couldn’t deny it. I tried to look nonchalant as I looked at their faces, but I doubt I did a very good job of it.
“Lily,” Sophie started cautiously. “He liked you for such a long time. I don’t think he would stop liking you so suddenly, especially after everything-”
“But that’s the thing,” I interrupted. “He didn’t really know me before. Once he got to actually know me recently, he realized that he only thinks of me as a friend.”
I’d been suspecting this for a while, but admitting it out-loud to them felt like such a blow. Once James actually got close to me, he stopped liking me. Wow. I gave up trying to smile.
“Look,” Rich persisted. “You can’t know that for sure. That’s just what you think at this point.”
‘Tell me you think otherwise,’ I wanted to say.
“Yeah,” Sophie agreed, nodding encouragingly. “Come on, be a Gryffindor. Talk to him about it. Make yourself have the tough conversations.”
Hmm... the tough conversations? Well, I think that we can establish by now that I’m not good at ‘the tough conversations’. All I have to do is think about how I never even spoke to Terry during our ‘breakup’. I just let things fall apart on their own. I couldn’t even face it.
And somehow, asking James how he felt about me now was even scarier than confronting Terry about our ruined relationship and about Kathy McKinnon.
On Sunday, after the Marauders returned from their impromptu Quidditch match (James and Remus had won. Sirius came back muttering something about extreme diets and the wind being too rough with his hair) we all prepared to return to our studies. As usual I left with James. I was aware of the way Rich and Sophie watched me curiously in what they of course thought was a very discreet manner. I was also acutely aware of the way my stupid heart went flouncing in circles to the tune of his voice...
Ugh. What is my heart doing? Flouncing? No. I refuse to become sappy, no matter if I like him or not... and of course, I could still be wrong about liking him. Perhaps it’s just...
...nerves.
Sure.
Right, well anyway, my time’s up. I guess I’ll go back to NEWT prep, and to the questionable subject of my poor little heart’s tintinnabulations.
Lily Evans
The Epic Tale of the Hogwarts Food-fight by Gin_Drinka
Chapter Notes: Lily admits something to herself... and I admit that I did not write all of the recognizable characters in this. Sorry for this absurdly long wait.
Chapter Endnotes: So, yes, well, I think I've probably lost most of my old readers because I took so dang long, but if you're still following this story, thank you so much! I received some emails from readers, asking about whether or not I would continue, and they definitely reminded me about what I was missing. I truly intend to finish this time.
And if you're a new reader, welcome to Lily's detention journal! Hehe. Also, huge thanks to my beta, Anya129!
So, Lily's back, and slightly less clueless than usual. :) What do you think? Please leave a review, even though I don't deserve one.