James Potter was taunting Severus Snape again, and Lily didn’t want to care.
Two years ago, she would have come to Severus’ defense. Two years ago, she did come to Severus’ defense, for all the good that had done. But that single word “ Mudblood “ had forever shattered an already strained relationship, and as Lily watched the entire scene unfolding before her now, she didn’t want to care.
Severus had chosen his path. It didn’t include her. He had his own friends now. Mulcibur, Avery, Nott… and that slick Lucius Malfoy he seemed to practically idolize. Granted, Malfoy had left Hogwarts already and wasn’t around to come to Severus’ defense, but the others were…
He had his friends. She wasn’t one of them. This wasn’t her problem. She didn’t care.
But…
But, Merlin, she did care.
James was an arrogant prat. He and Sirius both had their wands drawn and were standing there, laughing cruelly as Severus struggled against the invisible binds that seemed to hold him in place. The Slytherin’s wand lay on the grass a few feet away from him.
Peter was standing behind his two friends, his face filled with amusement and glee. Only Remus seemed at all disturbed by what was happening, and he still wasn’t doing anything about it. He looked for all the world as though he desperately wanted to be somewhere else.
Lily drew a breath and strode forward.
They were by the lake again, relaxing after the latest NEWTS exam, and the similarities to the incident at the end of her fifth year were all too obvious.
She had a sinking feeling it was going to play out the exact same way that had.
She squared her shoulders. “Leave him alone, Potter,” she said. She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t yell, but her tone was cold enough to convey the threat and her hand slid into her pocket and wrapped around her wand.
James turned towards her. “Evans,” he said politely, nodding his head in her direction before giving her a cocky grin. “Snivellus and I were just having a little chat.”
“Let. Him. Go,” Lily said again, enunciating each word. Sunlight streamed down on all of them, and the air was warm and filled with the scent of lavender and lilacs and fresh water. They had an audience “ James always had an audience and it made her sick to think about it “ and she wanted nothing more than for all of this to end.
She was so tired of it.
“Or you’ll what, Head Girl?” Sirius said with a bark of laughter. “Dock House points? Give us detention? Make us write lines?”
There was a murmur of answer laughter from the crowd that had gathered.
“Go out with me,” James said abruptly. “Come on, Evans. One date. We’re almost done with Hogwarts and then…”
“And then, thankfully, I will never have to see you again,” Lily spat. “Let him go, Potter.” And she drew her wand and pointed it directly at his chest, a number of jinxes running through her mind.
Potter eyed the wand warily. Lily knew that he had learned long ago never to underestimate her abilities. He could probably beat her in a duel, particularly if he had Black to help him, but she would still get in a few good spells before it ended.
And he would be the one to get in trouble. After all, what professor would actually believe that any of it was her fault?
She pressed her lips into a thin line. It wasn’t her fault. None of this was her fault. What had she done to deserve the constant attention of a boy she hated?
“Why do you care?” James retaliated. “Why do you defend him? You know what he thinks of you and other Muggleborns.”
Lily flinched, and wondered if James had any idea just how much that hurt. Of course she knew what Severus thought of Muggleborns, even if he had tried to tell her on more than one occasion that she was different, that she was special. But did James really have to bring it up? Did he have to rub it in her face, force her to remember a friendship she couldn’t save?
“I don’t need her help,” Severus snarled, apparently finding his voice for the first time since her appearance. “I don’t need anything from her.”
Lily inhaled sharply. It wasn’t a surprise that Severus would say something like that. How could it be a surprise when he had done it before?
“He’s nothing but a slimy Slytherin who plays with the Dark Arts and thinks all Muggles and Muggleborns are nothing more than trash. Scum,” James continued fiercely. “Why can’t you see that Evans? Why are you so damn…”
“And where is your Gryffindor bravery?” Lily shot back. “Three on one?” She gestured to Sirius and Peter before shaking her head in disgust. “Is this your idea of brave? Of a fair fight? You’re pathetic. It’s a wonder the Sorting Hat actually put you in Gryffindor at all…”
James moved his wand away from Severus and pointed it directly at Lily, fury in his eyes. “How dare you?” he snarled, and she took a step back, surprised by the vehemence of his reaction.
It was the first time she had ever accused him of not belonging in Gryffindor, and she knew even as she said the words that it was a low blow, but she hadn’t expected this particular response from him. He was furious, and that fury was directed completely at her.
Unfortunately, turning his attention to her fully meant that Severus finally had an opportunity to break free, and he jumped on it immediately. Lily just barely registered the movement, and then Severus had his wand in his hand again, and there was a flash of red light. The spell hit Sirius in the chest and he fell, collapsing onto the ground even as Peter shouted out a warning.
“Padfoot!” James cried, and raced to his best friend’s side.
Severus was looming over the two of them, a look of pure malice in his black eyes. A word was forming on his lips “ a Dark spell, no doubt “ and Lily switched her own wand so that it was pointed at him.
“Leave,” she said firmly.
“Lily…” he started, but Lily shook her head.
“Now,” she said. “Leave now.” She didn’t want to know what he was thinking, didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say. She just wanted this all to be over, and judging from the look on Severus’ face, he had no intention of letting things go. If she allowed him to stick around, the fight would continue and possibly spin out of control.
Severus sneered at her, but, surprisingly, did as she asked. With one last contemptuous look at James and Sirius, he turned and strode away.
There was blood on Sirius’ robes, although the wound didn’t look to serious, and James was already pulling the other Gryffindor to his feet and moving towards the castle. “Come on, let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey,” he said under his breath before sparing a moment to send a look of complete loathing in Severus’ direction.
James looked over at Lily, his mouth opening, but she turned away from him. There was nothing he could say that would interest her at the moment, so instead of sticking around to listen to him, she pushed her way through the crowd and walked down towards the lake.
The crowd was slowly dispersing, no longer interested now that the entertainment was over. Only a few stuck around, and one of them, a round-faced girl with light brown hair and gentle eyes, made her way towards Lily.
“Lily? Are you alright?”
Lily ran a hand through her hair and stared at the lake. “I hate this, Alice,” she admitted in a whisper.
“Potter?” Alice asked.
“Yes. No. All of it. I hate…” She stopped, sighed. Hate probably wasn’t the right word. She was just tired. She was tired of Potter’s behavior, tired of his constant requests, tired of the way he would ruffle his hair and wink at her and expect her to swoon. She was tired of trying to figure out ways to get him to stop. She was tired of staring at Severus and wondering if there was anything she could have done to make him choose her instead of his other friends. If she had just tried harder, if she had really pushed him to realize that those other people were headed down the wrong path… would it have mattered? Would it have made a difference?
She was tired of all the what-ifs.
“You didn’t have to stand up for him, you know,” Alice said softly. “He’s not your friend anymore. He made that very clear two years ago.”
“I wasn’t standing up for Snape,” Lily said shortly. “I was standing up against Potter. It doesn’t matter that it was Snape that he was taunting. It would have been wrong no matter who he went after.”
It was like talking to a wall. Only walls were probably more responsive.
James wouldn’t listen to a thing Remus said, and although that was not much of a surprise, it was still frustrating. Remus hated this feeling of helplessness, just as much as he hated watching James pine away over a girl he had no hope of winning. He knew that James’ feelings were real, and he knew that if James could only stop hexing people and actually listen to what Lily was saying for a few minutes, he might have a chance of convincing her that this wasn’t just a game to him.
But James wouldn’t even listen to Remus, so he certainly wasn’t going to suddenly start listening to Lily.
Even so, Remus found himself attempting to give the unwanted advice. “This isn’t the way to get her attention, Prongs. You know that.”
“I don’t get why she has to be such a stubborn, stuck-up…”
“Stuck-up?” Remus cut in, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice. That was one adjective he had not been expecting.
“It’s just for laughs,” James growled under his breath. “She hates all of the pranks but she doesn’t even… ugh. Does she have no sense of humor?”
“Maybe she doesn’t find tormenting Snape to be funny,” Remus suggested softly. “They were friends, you know.”
“Yes, and see how well that turned out,” James hissed. “He chose his other friends. He chose those bloody pureblood elitist Slytherins over her. He treats her like she’s less than him, less than all of them. He’s so wrapped up in Dark Arts he can’t even see that she’s out of his league.”
Remus rolled his eyes but didn’t answer. He had seen the looks Snape threw in Lily’s direction when he knew that her attention was elsewhere, and he was fairly certain that the Slytherin did know that Lily wasn’t beneath him.
But he really wasn’t here to analyze Snape’s thoughts of feelings.
“I just don’t get why she won’t give me a chance,” James muttered, slumping over onto his bed.
“Maybe if you stopped hexing people…”
“I don’t hex people,” James snapped. “I don’t walk around indiscriminately targeting anyone who crosses my path. I only go after the ones I don’t like, and there is always a good reason for me to not like them. It’s not like Snape has never attacked me. The things he’s done, the people he is friends with. It’s not like…” He stopped and trailed off with an angry huff of impatience. “She is such a temperamental know-it-all.”
“But you love her,” Remus said.
“I know,” James wailed. “This is so messed up!”
“There is only a week left in school, mate, and then you might never see her again,” Remus said reasonably. It wasn’t where he had planned to go with this conversation, but if he couldn’t convince James to change his behavior to win Lily over, then maybe he could at least point out that the torment would end soon enough. She would be out of his life, and he wouldn’t have to continually see her and know that she hated him.
But instead of being comforting, the statement merely upset James further. His face darkened. “Then I only have one week to convince her to go out with me.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m James Potter. I should be able to do this.”
“Well, when you ask her out, I think you should probably refrain from mentioning that,” Remus suggested dryly. “She hasn’t reacted positively to all the other times you’ve told her you’re a Potter and you can get what you want.”
“I am a Potter, and Potters do get what they want,” James said confidently.
Remus fell back against his mattress and stared at the curtains around his bed. He had pushed them aside so that he could have this talk with James, but suddenly he wanted nothing more than to pull them shut and tune out the rest the world.
It was true; Potters did get what they wanted. His family was pureblooded and wealthy, and the name Potter carried prestige and weight. The entire world was open to him; unlimited options and opportunities for him to follow.
But it wasn’t like that for everyone else.
It certainly wasn’t like that for werewolves.
The school year was ending in less than a week and he would be tossed out into the real world. And the real world wasn’t filled with understanding and sympathetic people like Dumbledore. The real world was filled with hate and bigotry and discrimination, and he was fairly certain he would soon find that he had no place in it.
James must have picked up on the gloomy silence that had fallen, and he correctly guessed the reason for it, because he was suddenly sitting on the edge of Remus’ bed, a look of concern on his face.
“We’re going to figure something out, Moony,” he said firmly. “You, me, Padfoot, and Wormtail… we’ll put our heads together and we’ll come up with something for you. We’ll fight this, and we’ll fight all the people that try to tell you that you are less than them. You’re not.”
It was moments like this that made Remus feel even more frustrated by his friend’s inability to win Lily’s affections. James might appear arrogant or conceited to the redhead, but Remus had seen the other side of him. He had seen the fierce loyalty to his friends and the hatred for discrimination and bigotry based on blood and part- or non-human status. He had seen the determination to fight that discrimination, even against considerable odds and all the inherent expectations placed on because of his own blood status.
If only Lily could see it, too…
“You have to come to the wedding. Mum says.”
Sirius snorted. Did his brother actually think he was going to do anything just because his mother said so? “And, of course, you’re going to deliver the message for dear Mum like a good little boy?” he sneered.
Regulus glared furiously, his eyes going cold. “Narcissa is your cousin,” he said.
Sirius shook his head. “She’s no family of mine. Mum made it very clear I was no longer considered a Black when she went and blasted me off the tapestry. And even if Narcissa was still family, she certainly wouldn’t be now that she’s stupid enough to marry a Malfoy.”
“Lucius comes from a good family,” Regulus argued through clenched teeth. “It’s a better match than you’re going to make with whatever vermin you convince to go with you.”
“Oh, is that why you’re dating the Greengrass girl? To make a good match so Mummy will be pleased?”
“Leave Eliza out of this!”
Sirius threw his hands into the air in frustration. “Merlin, Reg, do you even listen to yourself? Our parents have turned you into a miniature version of themselves. Can’t you just think on your own for once?”
“Is that what you think you’re doing? Thinking on your own? Following Potter around like you’re his little lapdog is not…”
“Shut up about James!”
Regulus smirked in triumph at Sirius’ heated outburst. “Oh, did that get under your skin?”
Sirius was dimly aware of the crowd gathering in the corridor. When Regulus had approached him with the message from his mother, he had debated just walking away. But instead he had stayed to argue “ although he still wasn’t entirely sure why “ and now his family problems would be aired for everything to see.
Again.
It actually bothered him now. It didn’t used to, when he was younger. In his first several years at Hogwarts he took great pleasure in these public arguments “ first with Narcissa, and then later with Regulus “ knowing that every word he said would eventually be reported to his parents. He had been determined then to show that he wasn’t a Slytherin, that he wasn’t like his family, that he was better.
But things were different now. He had managed to shut the door on most of his family, but he couldn’t quite let go of Regulus. Every argument left him feeling helpless, and he was forced to watch as his brother drifted further and further away, becoming so entangled in his parents’ prejudiced viewpoints that there was no real way to save him.
And being helpless made him angry.
He wanted to talk to his brother. He wanted to force Regulus to understand that he had a choice, that it didn’t have to be this way.
But Regulus clearly had his own priorities, and, oblivious to Sirius’ inner turmoil, he said icily, “This is your last chance, Sirius. Mum’s been generous enough as it is.”
“Generous?” Sirius repeated, laughing bitterly. “Is that what she calls the Howlers? Is that what she calls blasting me off the tapestry and telling me I am no son of hers?”
“And how many times have you told her you aren’t part of her family?” Regulus shot back.
Sirius shook his head. “I don’t want this, Reg. This pureblood nonsense you keep spouting… it’s utter hogwash. Maybe you’re content to be Mum’s good little boy, but I’m not. I’m going to actually think for myself.”
“And spit on our family and centuries of tradition?” Regulus snarled, flushing with anger. “You selfish, self-centered prat. You have no idea what you’re doing to this family. You’re destroying everything.”
“I haven’t destroyed a damn thing! And I certainly haven’t destroyed anything that didn’t already deserve to be broken.”
“It’s no wonder Mum is so ashamed of you…”
And, like all their conversations that started out with a heated exchange of words, this one eventually came to blows.
Sirius pulled his arm back and punched Regulus in the face. His brother stumbled backwards, one hand flying to his face where a bruise was sure to form and the other curling into a fist. He struck out without hesitation, landing a blow on his brother’s chin. They were soon a tangle of limbs and fists, striking each other furiously, wands forgotten.
“…and then he asks me out. Again. Thank Merlin we’ll be out of Hogwarts soon and I’ll never have to see him again,” Lily said, finishing her story and slumping over on her bed. She was lying on her stomach, her chin resting on one hand, her elbow propped up against the mattress. Her red hair tumbled over her shoulders, her eyes flashed irately, and she knew that retelling this story had brought another flush of irritation to her cheeks.
“You’re the only one who’s this excited about facing the real world, Lily,” Mary replied with a laugh from where she sat perched on the edge of her own bed, listening to Lily’s explanation of the events by the lake.
“At least we won’t have homework or tests,” Alice pointed out logically. She was standing in the doorway to the dormitory, and Lily had a feeling she was attempting to inch out the door in order to escape another one of her Potter-is-an-arrogant-toerag rants.
“Yes, but we will have work and rent and all those other things people are supposed to do once they become mature adults,” Mary replied, throwing a brief glance in Alice’s direction.
“And yet a good half of the seventh-years here are anything but mature,” Lily muttered under her breath.
“Well, we can’t all be accepted into prestigious potions brewing programs,” Mary replied.
Lily raised her eyebrows. “Why Mary McDonald, are you jealous?”
“Of the amount of work you will be doing this summer? Not in the slightest,” Mary retorted with a laugh.
“Oh, but think how amazing it will be…” Lily started.
“Mary!” Alice interrupted, frowning crossly. “We had an agreement not to bring up this program. You know how she’ll go off about it for hours if you get her started.”
Lily pretended to glare at her friends but didn’t quite manage it. They had both been teasing her about how excited she was over this program for weeks now, and she had gotten used to the light-hearted banter.
And, of course, it was true that she was unbearably ecstatic about the program. It would start almost as soon as Hogwarts ended, which was disappointing as it meant that she wouldn’t have much time to visit her parents. But she couldn’t deny that she was looking forward to learning more about advanced healing potions.
“Yes, yes,” Mary said quickly, “you’re right. We don’t really need to hear it all again, do we? Unless you think there is something that we forgot?”
“Hm… well, it is a three month program in which exceptionally gifted potions students are taught how to devise potions used for healing purposes. It combines theory and hands-on-practice, and is the first in a series of steps that will eventually lead to a very prestigious title of Master Medicinal Potioneer,” Alice said.
“Right,” Mary agreed. “And by the end of the first three months, each students is supposed to pick a medicinal potion that has been conceived of but not yet perfected and work on the basic theory behind it. Those who do well in the first three months are recommended to the next training course which lasts for six months and involves more in depth research. A few of those students “ only the best of the best “ are then selected for a fully funded two year apprenticeship under some of the most famous and accomplished modern potion Masters.” She turned towards Lily, lips curled into a smile, “Are we forgetting anything?”
Lily laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t mean to blabber on this much. I’m just… I’m just really excited.”
“Yes,” Mary deadpanned, “we’ve noticed.” Then she shrugged and said, “I still prefer your speeches about potions to your rants against Potter, anyway.”
“He is such a prat,” Lily muttered.
“And you just had to bring up Potter,” Alice muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes at Mary.
“Oh, come on,” Lily protested. “You both know he’s a conceited git.”
“I don’t know, Lils…” Mary said hesitatingly. The teasing was gone from her voice, replaced instead with sympathy and compassion, a sign that she knew she was about to bring up painful memories for her friend. “I mean, maybe Snape did something. It’s not like he’s blameless in this rivalry.”
“I know,” Lily agreed bitterly. “I’m not saying that. I know he instigates a lot of the fights.” She paused, wishing that she could somehow just get over the loss of her best friend, wishing that it didn’t still hurt, two years later. Then she pushed away those thoughts and said, “But I also know that Potter and Black strut around here like the own the place, hexing anyone they want just for laughs. Maybe Snape did something to them and this was their revenge, but maybe they were just bored.”
Mary didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue the point. And Lily didn’t press her. She knew that Mary, as a Muggleborn, had often been the target of the Slytherins “ Snape included “ and was less willing to think anything nice of them.
After all, when the Slytherins hexed her, it was frequently Potter and Black that came to her defense, and Mary was grateful for that. Even if she and Lily both knew that Potter and Black’s chivalrous gestures were really just excuses for them to fight with the Slytherins and pretend that their reasons for doing so were noble.
“James is a bit arrogant,” Alice agreed finally, “I’ll give you that.”
“I suppose,” Mary murmured dispassionately.
“You’re just reluctant to admit that because you fancy them,” Lily said teasingly.
Mary flushed and threw one of her pillows at Lily. “I don’t fancy James or Sirius,” she argued. But her voice was just a bit too high and her flush was just a bit too pink for her words to be believed.
Mary fancied pretty much everybody.
“Is it his soulful hazel eyes or his messy black hair?” Lily asked with a chuckle.
“I don’t fancy James!”
“Sirius, then?” Alice asked, joining in. “He’s got soulful eyes, too. Maybe you should ask him out, hm…? A little moonlight stroll, some Firewhisky… who knows what could happen?”
“This coming from the girl who fancied Frank Longbottom for ages before working up the nerve to talk to him,” Mary shot back.
“Yes, but I did talk to him eventually,” Alice replied. “That’s why we’re together now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but I seem to recall three years worth of listening to you go on and on about how wonderful and perfect he was before you had even managed to carry on a decent conversation with him,” Mary retorted, laughing. “You’d start stammering every time you tried to talk to him.”
“I was nervous!”
“She still goes on and on about how perfect Longbottom is,” Lily pointed out, pushing herself to a sitting position. “I think it’s actually gotten worse in the two years they’ve been dating.”
“Yeah, but I hear Longbottom is just as bad,” Mary replied. “Dearborn’s cousin is in the Auror training program with Frank and says he won’t stop talking about how Alice is sweet and lovely and perfect and wonderful and beautiful and kind and caring…”
“Really?” Alice asked breathlessly. “He says all of that?”
“Oh, Merlin…” Mary said softly. “Here we go.”
“Isn’t he just the sweetest, most considerate wizard ever?” Alice continued.
“Yes, yes, Longbottom is wonderful,” Lily said quickly. “Caradoc says…”
“Oh, is it Caradoc, now?” Mary asked sharply, turning towards Lily in surprise. “You’ve called him Dearborn all year. Any dates, or perhaps broom closets and snogging, I should know about?”
“Mary,” Lily said patiently, “not every boy in this school wants to go out with me.” She sniffed a bit, then added, “I didn’t know him that well at the beginning of the year. But he is Head Boy and I am Head Girl, and we got to know each other better since we had to work together. We decided last week to be on a bit more familiar terms.”
“He is cute,” Mary answered. “And clearly intelligent enough to be made Head Boy.”
Lily shook her head. “It’s not just intelligence. I mean, Potter is intelligent. He’s the best in the year at Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, but no one would ever say he’s Head Boy material. He hasn’t grown up enough for that.”
“Ah. And Dearborn is… grown up?” Mary asked with certain suggestiveness to her voice.
Lily snorted. “More than Potter.”
“And now we’re back to ranting about Potter,” Alice said with a sigh.
Lily ran a hand through her unruly red curls and said, “It just frustrates me. I see how smart he is, how much potential he has, and he’s just completely wasting it. He’s going to go out into the world believing that he can do anything he wants, hex anyone he wants, and just be a complete prat, and still get away with it. And the worst part is that he can. He has the money and the prestige and the blood status to get away with anything, and he doesn’t even seem to realize all the good he could be doing with that. It just makes me so angry.”
But that wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t really anger that she felt every time she thought about Potter.
It was disappointment.
While You Tell Me Stories by Dawnie
Story Notes:
This story operates under the assumption that it was the war that forced James to really mature and grow up. So what if there hadn’t been a war? What if there was still prejudice and power and blood purity, but no Voldermort? What would it take for him to grow up then?
And what would it take for Lily to see past his arrogance and realize that he was really good inside?
Chapter titles are from the wonderful song As Is by Ani DiFranco.