"Muggle Studies" for lilyjames_fest [Part 2 / 6]
Title: Muggle Studies
Author: museme87
Rating: R
Pairing: Lily/James, background Remus/Sirius
Wordcount: ~37,900
Warnings: dark themes (racism, hazing, slight non-con), sexual situations
Summary: As the Voldemort War rages outside the castle, long standing prejudices begin to seep their way into Hogwarts. For a Muggle-born student, everyday life has become significantly more challenging as Lily Evans knows too well. And her new partnership with one James Potter isn't exactly making things easier, especially when she discovers he isn't quite the arrogant toerag she once thought he was.
Author's Notes: Written for lilyjames_fest. Based on prompt 60. A huge thanks to klose and liebedance for the betaing, hand holding, and Brit-picking.
II. Matters of Pride and Prejudice
"-and before you all get overly excited about the weekend, remember that you have 10 inches on Substantive Charms due on Tuesday. I noticed many of you struggling with it during your O.W.L.S. last year, so we ought to refresh ourselves," Professor Flitwick explained before dismissing the sixth years.
Lily was a bit put out about the Substantive Charms essay. She'd been able to do that particular charm since fourth year and after having gone over Spell Net Theory, was very familiar with the magical foundations of such a charm. She feared that this day would come-the day when she found Charms class boring. Once upon a time it had been thrilling, each class bringing a challenge her way, but that was no longer the case.
As she slowly began putting her things away, the students around her already shuffling to leave, Professor Flitwick approached her. She smiled.
"Professor?"
"I was wondering, Miss Evans, if I might have a word."
"Of course, sir."
She wondered if she'd done something wrong or if her homework had been noticeably lackluster. She'd been in a rush to do it, but Lily was certain that her answers were at least correct. And if it wasn't that, she had no idea what he would want to speak with her about.
"I've been noticing that your interest in class has waned as of late."
"Oh no, sir, not at all," she said, hopefully with some conviction.
"No need to spare my feelings, my dear."
Lily blushed. "Maybe a little."
"As I suspected. And am I also correct in thinking that you're not feeling sufficiently challenged?"
"I'm very familiar with all the charms we're scheduled to learn this year," she replied, her cheeks feeling even warmer.
Professor Flitwick nodded. "No doubt you know them more thoroughly than anyone else in your year, Miss Evans. The reason I've asked is that, after discussing this with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, I thought it might be beneficial for you to have some one-on-one instruction. It's not a common occurrence, of course, but not unheard of. We've found that some of our students over the years have a special aptitude in certain fields of magical study that should be cultivated."
Lily couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her, study with Flitwick? She knew that she had a particular affinity for Charms work, but she would have never suspected it warranted special instruction.
"Sir, I would be delighted. Charms has always been my favorite, and well…"
"Say no more, my dear!"
The professor cast Accio on two books that sat on his desk. They levitated right into her hands, and Lily could tell just how old they must have been by looking at them. They were likely filled with ancient charms the likes of which she had never seen or even dreamed of.
"You can take a look at those, though do practice with care. There isn't anything particularly dangerous in them, but you'll find that it requires a different level of magic than what our normal course work demands. We can arrange a meeting at your earliest convenience. A week from today, perhaps?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but Thursdays are my Muggle Studies group meetings."
Or, Thursday evening should have been her Muggle Studies group meetings. However, Potter had spent the better part of a month canceling their sessions or, on one occasion, bringing Sirius along, which had been nothing short of disastrous. She really shouldn't ask a professor to work around her schedule, but Flitwick didn't seem to mind.
"Wednesdays then?"
"That works wonderfully. Thank you so much, Professor."
After she'd finished packing her things, Lily rushed off to tell Jane all about her luck. She wouldn't dare say anything to anyone else; no, she knew that they'd say: Surprised you're good at any magic at all, what with all that Muggle blood polluting your veins. Lily hated how many of her peers dismissed her proficiencies so easily. Perhaps she hated it even more than when they blamed her poor marks on her Muggle birth. She would be damned before she started letting those prejudices get to her now though, not today.
~*~
At one of the tables in the library, Lily sat with her Muggle Studies book open before her. Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced at her watch every few seconds and frowned. It was the end of September, the deadline to their first reflection essay quickly approaching, and Potter had the nerve to be late. She wondered if he would even bother to grace her with his presence at all.
Just as she was about to close her text and seek Potter out-really, they had to get this reflection essay done-the library doors opened and he appeared. Potter looked winded and maybe even a little disheveled. Of course. He was probably in a broom cupboard somewhere with some girl and forgot all about her. She should have known.
"Sorry I'm late," he said breathlessly, taking the seat across from her.
"Snogging some girl and lost track of time?"
Really there was no sense in mincing words at this point. Her anger had already got the better of her, and it wasn't as if he didn't deserve a thorough tongue lashing.
"No, it was Sirius. He and Reg got into a fight, and he needed me there, alright?"
Lily supposed that she could have held her tongue for a few moments now that she'd discovered the reason behind his tardiness. She would give the pass to Potter just because she knew how bad those arguments between the brothers were, and that without someone there to calm Black down afterwards, things often went disastrously.
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, bit hacked off still."
Lily noticed the bruise blooming on Potter's jaw and a smudge of what looked to be blood on his shirt collar. That, and when he took out his quill and parchment, he saw that his knuckles were broke open. Wait a second, he wasn't…
"You weren't comforting him. You helped him in a fist fight!" she accused, incredulously.
"Did you really think that I show up to their arguments for moral support and to hug Sirius after it's all said and done? Perhaps let him weep a bit on my shoulder?" Potter scoffed. "Two-against-one or otherwise, Reg deserves what he has coming."
Alright, that was a bit absurd of her to think; she would give him that-not that it justified the fighting or his tardiness. Sighing, Lily opted to end the brewing argument where it was rather than let it get out of hand. Potter was already running on too much adrenaline, and if she pissed him off, he was likely to leave the library and taking any chance they had of passing Muggle Studies with him.
As a sort of peace offering, she took her wand out, closing up the cuts on his knuckles and easing the bruising on his jaw. He stared at her a moment, as if to ask her what had gotten into her. Lily shrugged.
"Right. Well then, where do we start?" he asked, relieved.
"I've no idea, to be honest."
She'd spent the better part of the last month just trying to get him to a meeting. What they would decide to talk about hadn't really been at the forefront of her mind, which in retrospect was really foolish of her.
"Did Dirwint say what our ruddy essays are supposed to be about anyway?" he asked, put out.
Lily glared. "Why are you taking this class again?"
"Because I have to."
Oh, right. Well, she would just have to forgive him for his foul mood then. He didn't want to be in the class anymore than she wanted to be his project partner, it seemed. Might as well buck up and figure something out.
"How about we go with the basics? He never said we couldn't talk about the differences between growing up as a Muggle and growing up as a wizard."
Potter slipped her a smooth smile. "Lily, my heart, you're brilliant. It won't take but an hour to throw that together."
"If we ever get started with our discussion. It'll be difficult to write the essays otherwise."
"Right then," he said, stretching. "What would you like to know about me?"
"Just start from the beginning and tell me anything that comes to mind."
"Well, I'm an only child. Mum and Dad tried for years, had a few miscarriages I think, but they only managed me. Um…I was born at home-"
"Wait," she said, jotting that down on a bit of parchment. "That's a difference."
"How do Muggles have babies then?"
"Home births aren't unheard of, but most women go to a hospital."
"A hospital?" he asked, incredulously. "But women have been giving birth on their own for centuries. Why do they need a hospital?"
Lily rolled her eyes. He made it sound as if childbirth were nothing more complex than making a sandwich. The poor woman who pulled the short straw and ended up married to him could expect more compassion from the Devil himself than James Potter, at least as far as child birth was concerned. What a totally rubbish father he would make.
"You forget, Potter, that we're not blessed with magic. We can't mix potions for the pains or cast warning charms to go off if there are complications. And should anything happen, we can't Apparate right to St. Mungo's."
"That's absurd. You can't Apparate when you're pregnant."
Resisting the urge to groan, Lily wondered if he'd even understood the point she was trying to make about the differences in potential dangers. She narrowed her eyes to show her displeasure with his comment.
"What? You can't."
"Alright, obviously we need to change subjects. This isn't working. The only thing we're accomplishing is bickering."
For a few moments, they sat in silence. Lily wasn't sure what to suggest, what topic would be safe enough for them to avoid arguing. Glancing across the table, she saw Potter looking rather thoughtful himself. Then his eyes met hers, and she quickly diverted her own. She felt a very strange sensation just then, staring into his eyes.
"Tell me about the war, Lily. I want to know what it's like for you."
She froze in place; someone might as well have cast Petrificus Totalus on her. How in the bloody hell did he do that? Of all the things to talk about, he had to pick, almost intuitively, the one thing that she didn't want to talk to anyone about, not even her closest friends. Was this some sort of joke? Was he looking to take the piss out? Because it wasn't a funny matter. It was serious, and that was a concept that James Potter struggled with.
"I'm not asking to be a berk. I'm asking because I sincerely want to know," he said, before she had the chance to refute the suggestion. "I see Muggle-borns around school. I'm friends with them, but I can't begin to imagine what it must be like."
Lily dared to look him in the eyes again. He was being earnest; she could tell. But that didn't change the fact that it was an extremely sensitive topic, one that, at times, had sent her into tears. She couldn't risk letting him see her so affected by something. Lily didn't really know him after all.
"I don't think this is an appropriate conversation."
"But it is. That is why we need projects like this. We're never going to learn to live together if we don't understand one another, am I right?"
"I understand where you're coming from, I really do. I just can't."
For a moment, she thought he was going to leave things. His silence implied as much. But then he shook his head slowly in reflection and met her eyes once more.
"It's not right-what's happening. They're killing innocents, and they-the victims-are innocent. I don't buy into this dirty blood propaganda, even though you might find that hard to believe-"
"I don't," she interjected. "I mean, why would I think that?"
"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? You don't like me, and you always expect the worst from me."
She considered his words. It probably seemed like that to most people, and he did irk her. That didn't necessarily mean that she hated him though. When he was being mature, as he was being right then, well, he was quite tolerable. In fact, it was enlightening to see this passionate side of Potter that shared the same views that she did. It made her question her perpetual bitterness towards him.
"I don't expect the worst from you, even though you have a tendency towards disappointing others and breaking the rules. And sometimes you can even be a little bit…bearable," she said softly.
Potter smiled at her, and for the first time, Lily realized that as far as smiles went, his was above average. He seemed amused by her little confession, and she guessed it was funny that being called "bearable" by someone could actually be a compliment.
"I know there are a lot of pure-bloods out there who harbor hatred towards Muggles and Muggle-borns, and it's really easy to just lump us altogether. But, Lily, you should know that I don't carry those ideologies. I know I can be a prat sometimes, but understand at least this much-I don't do it in hate."
Nodding, Lily began to wonder if she shouldn't share a small something with him since he'd gone out of his way to ease her mind. Not that she'd ever thought that James Potter hated her kind, but the reassurance that he wouldn't stand for such a thing was very comforting. And while he was often thought to be a liar, a schemer, and an all-round mischief maker, Lily knew that he wouldn't lie about something so delicate. Even so, the thought of telling him something about the war from her perspective didn't set well with her. No, she couldn't, or at least not yet.
"Thank you. It means a lot, Potter. Really it does. And maybe sometime later in the year we can discuss it, but I'd rather not right now."
"Understandable. So would you like to tell me a little more about yourself then? Obviously I'm rubbish at telling you about me."
For the greater part of an hour, Lily discussed what it was like growing up in a Muggle home, how her parents handled having a witch in the family, and also what it was like to have a sibling. Potter marveled at some of the things she'd told him, especially the tales about her accidental magic, and often added in something about his own childhood or how things were different for a child in the Wizarding world.
Their discussion was really fascinating, but what interested her even more was the fact that she and Potter could carry on an intellectual conversation. Lily found that he was well mannered, despite all evidence to the contrary, and that he was very easy to talk to.
When Potter brought their conversation to a close (claiming a Transfiguration essay as his excuse), Lily was almost disappointed. Naturally she blamed it on an interest in their discussion rather than Potter himself. And while she grappled for a reason why they should continue on, she found herself without one. They had all the information they needed for their essay.
"Want to walk back to the common room with me?" he asked.
"That would be lovely, thanks."
Potter even went so far as to offer to carry her things, but Lily didn't let him. There would be implications with that, she feared. Not to mention the fact that, if anyone saw them, she would be teased or given the cold shoulder even more so than usual. But, she supposed, there were worse things in life than being seen with James Potter carrying her books. Once upon a time she wouldn't have thought so, so coming to that conclusion quite surprised her.
"So tell me more about this sister of yours. Is Posey-"
"Petunia," she corrected.
He shrugged. "Is she as pretty as you are?"
Her cheeks flushed, though she wasn't sure if it was because of the question itself or because of the compliment it paid to her. Not that Potter hadn't called her pretty before, but it felt a little different this time. She hoped he hadn't noticed; the last thing she wanted was any advances made by him.
"Is that question at all appropriate?" she asked, praying to God that she wasn't blushing as much as she thought she was.
"Well I obviously don't have much of a chance with one Evans girl. Might as well see if I've a shot with the other," he said, punctuating it with a wink.
"You'd have a better chance with me, to be honest. Petunia…well, she finds pleasure in the mediocre things in life."
"I take it that you being a witch doesn't set well with her then?"
That was the understatement of the century. Petunia did everything in her power to stress the differences between herself and Lily and make sure it was known that the normal way of doing things was far superior to Lily's way. She belittled every attempt Lily made at trying to do things the "right" way, taking every opportunity to comment if Lily's hair wasn't properly plaited or if her cosmetics were too heavy. Her sister did all this knowing that Lily had learned how to do such things magically before she learned them the Muggle way. She had, after all, become a teenager in a school for witchcraft, which left her with a certain disadvantage when she had to go about things through "normal" means.
"Let's put it this way, Petunia didn't write to me my entire first two years at Hogwarts, and she only wrote to me in third year to inform me that she was moving into my bedroom."
Potter's wince was all the evidence that she needed to know that she'd got her point across. Pretty or not, apparently Potter wouldn't even consider pursuing someone who thought of him as abnormal. No doubt that would deflate his gigantic ego. On second thought, perhaps they should meet. If anyone could make James Potter feel about an inch big, it would be her dear sister.
~*~
"I don't care that he sleeps with anything that moves, Mel. Have you seen Johnson in those Quidditch robes? It's not a wonder why all the girls want some time in the broom cupboard with him," Annalise said, chatting animatedly to one of their fellow Gryffindors at lunch, a few weeks after Lily's first Muggle Studies meeting with Potter.
Lily, meanwhile, was idly playing with the peas on her plate and skimming through the Charms text that Flitwick had lent her. She couldn't help but wonder if there hadn't been a charm placed on the book itself, as she struggled to stop reading it every time it was opened. The things that she'd begun to study were very advanced and took everything she knew to be put to use. It was a challenge and very exciting. And the results? Lily couldn't believe some of the things she'd been able to achieve after just a few lessons.
"Evans."
She looked up to find Potter and company pausing at her lunch table, Potter and Black dressed in their Quidditch robes-afternoon practice, she assumed. Noticing the way the fabric pulled tightly across their chests, Lily couldn't help but wonder if they'd shrunk their uniforms a bit to give the girls a better look at what they had to offer. And much to her dismay, Lily found herself doing just that-stealing a glance at Potter's toned chest. Why did it feel warm in the Great Hall all of a sudden?
"Looking fit there, Black," Annalise said. "I know of a cupboard that could use occupying."
Lily's eyes flitted over to Remus, who looked positively annoyed. Since Remus and Black's relationship was not well known even among their housemates, these sorts of harmless flirtations happened often. She knew that they bothered Remus, and she'd been told that Black had cut back on it for that reason. But Black was still Black (an attention seeking whore, in her personal opinion), and he sometimes went along with it.
"I'll go find us seats," Remus muttered, stalking off further up the table followed by Peter.
Black noticed Remus' blatant frustrations, and much to Lily's surprise, began to ignore Annalise completely. The unfortunate consequence was that he now turned to her.
"And Evans," Sirius said. "Looking particularly shaggable today. I like what you've done with your hair-very naughty school girl."
Lily's blood began to boil, and she quickly tore her hair out of the bunches she'd styled it in that morning. Anything that Black found appealing had to go. She hated him, and she hated the thought of him checking her out even more.
"Getting a little angry, are we?" He turned to Potter. "Evans looks a bit pent up, Prongs. Crouch knows of an empty broom cupboard. Why don't you escort her there and help her release some of that tension. What her Muggle boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him, eh?"
Sirius let out a bark of laughter, but what was worse was that Potter's laugh-the very one Lily had just begun to admire-joined his. So he thought Black's vulgar comment was funny, did he? And he had apparently shared with Black the fact that she had a boyfriend, as the only other person who knew was Jane and she would never betray her confidence. How could she have ever thought that stupid James Potter could ever be trusted with personal information?
Lily promptly jumped out of her seat and flick-swished her wand before Potter and Black ever stopped laughing. Well they certainly wouldn't be laughing the next time they went to the loo, and Black would be lucky to see the inside of a broom cupboard in the next week with that little hex.
"This is exactly why I can't tolerate you, Potter."
She snatched her text into her arms and stormed from the table, not really realizing that Potter had stopped laughing. If she would have turned around, she would have seen him looking rather distressed, would have seen the frown on his lips and sadness in his eyes. But she hadn't turned around and she wouldn't turn around ever for an arrogant toe-rag like James Potter.
~*~
Lily spent the better part of a week avoiding Potter after the lunchroom incident, making it a point to leave the room whenever he entered. They had accidently bumped into each other once while she was coming out of the loo, but she quickly dismissed him and threatened to hex him further if he followed her. It wasn't until Thursday of the following week that he cornered her outside while she was writing a love letter to David beneath her favorite tree.
"May I?" he asked softly, gesturing to the grass next to her.
"I'm not interested in whatever you have to say, so you might as well save your breath."
Potter sat regardless of her warning, taking mind not to sit too close. Lily had the sneaking suspicion that he knew she was liable to combust at the slightest irritation and wasn't going to risk incurring her wrath.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about the other day."
She glared at him. "It's not worth anything."
"What was it that upset you the most?"
She looked at him incredulously. Did he really not know? Boys were thick at times, she knew that much, but was he honestly that oblivious? Anger licked her insides.
"Ignoring the fact that you completely betrayed my confidence, did you hear the things Black was saying? Or were you too busy laughing to really consider it? You two treat girls like they're things to be thrown away whenever your interests are carried off on some other whim. And for some reason, they tolerate it. Well, I won't. I'm not like other girls. I have a little more respect for myself. And I will never be your good time, Potter. "
There, that would show him. Perhaps it would even deflate his ego a bit-hearing that there was at least one girl who wouldn't be caught dead with him. And maybe Lily needed to hear herself say it too. As much as she'd loathed Potter in the past, he was sort of growing on her over the course of their meetings. Things that she'd never taken noticed of before-his eyes and smile, his elegant fingers wrapped around his quill, the smell of his cologne-were at the forefront of her thoughts during Muggle Studies discussions. Lily wouldn't allow herself to be caught up in the physical things, not when it meant that she could potentially come to fancy someone like Potter.
In response to her words, Lily expected an instant retaliation from him-some stupid comment or innuendo. However, he just sat there, wind ruffling his hair, and was silent. She wondered what he was thinking, wondered whether any of her words had sunk into that thick skull of his.
"I know you're not like other girls, Lily, and that's why I'd never ask you to be my fifteen minutes in a broom cupboard," he said finally.
"So what? Is this the part where you tell me you're in love with me?" she asked bitterly.
"No, I'm not in love with you. I don't know you well enough to feel that because you've never given me a fucking chance, Evans." Potter stood, fists clenched. "But I will say one thing: I have learned more about you during our talks, and I've discovered that-when you're not being an utter harpy-you're really an incredible girl. And I respect you. Not that it's worth anything."
His words pierced her, so much so that she couldn't even call him back as he stormed away. He'd hurt her, so she'd hurt him back. Lily thought that it would make her feel better-after all, those sorts of comments always had before and he'd never taken them this seriously back then. But she didn't feel better; she felt worse, in fact. Lily regretted ever saying that nothing he said could ever mean anything to her, mostly because it was a complete lie. Things that came out of Potter's mouth lately-those intelligent and heartfelt words-had mattered a lot to her.
She was an incredible girl? He respected her? What did that even mean? She would have dismissed them quickly last year as pretty compliments paid to her so that he could try to get into her knickers. But now? Maybe he didn't have an ulterior motive after all. When Lily considered all those times she'd been a complete bitch to him as he praised her skill or appearance, she loathed herself.
What happened to those days when they were just Evans and Potter, with clear lines drawn and boundaries marked? The days when they wouldn't have thought provoking discussions and would instead bicker back and forth? This uncharted territory with him frightened her. What would it mean for her? For him? For them?
Continue to Part 3
Author: museme87
Rating: R
Pairing: Lily/James, background Remus/Sirius
Wordcount: ~37,900
Warnings: dark themes (racism, hazing, slight non-con), sexual situations
Summary: As the Voldemort War rages outside the castle, long standing prejudices begin to seep their way into Hogwarts. For a Muggle-born student, everyday life has become significantly more challenging as Lily Evans knows too well. And her new partnership with one James Potter isn't exactly making things easier, especially when she discovers he isn't quite the arrogant toerag she once thought he was.
Author's Notes: Written for lilyjames_fest. Based on prompt 60. A huge thanks to klose and liebedance for the betaing, hand holding, and Brit-picking.
II. Matters of Pride and Prejudice
"-and before you all get overly excited about the weekend, remember that you have 10 inches on Substantive Charms due on Tuesday. I noticed many of you struggling with it during your O.W.L.S. last year, so we ought to refresh ourselves," Professor Flitwick explained before dismissing the sixth years.
Lily was a bit put out about the Substantive Charms essay. She'd been able to do that particular charm since fourth year and after having gone over Spell Net Theory, was very familiar with the magical foundations of such a charm. She feared that this day would come-the day when she found Charms class boring. Once upon a time it had been thrilling, each class bringing a challenge her way, but that was no longer the case.
As she slowly began putting her things away, the students around her already shuffling to leave, Professor Flitwick approached her. She smiled.
"Professor?"
"I was wondering, Miss Evans, if I might have a word."
"Of course, sir."
She wondered if she'd done something wrong or if her homework had been noticeably lackluster. She'd been in a rush to do it, but Lily was certain that her answers were at least correct. And if it wasn't that, she had no idea what he would want to speak with her about.
"I've been noticing that your interest in class has waned as of late."
"Oh no, sir, not at all," she said, hopefully with some conviction.
"No need to spare my feelings, my dear."
Lily blushed. "Maybe a little."
"As I suspected. And am I also correct in thinking that you're not feeling sufficiently challenged?"
"I'm very familiar with all the charms we're scheduled to learn this year," she replied, her cheeks feeling even warmer.
Professor Flitwick nodded. "No doubt you know them more thoroughly than anyone else in your year, Miss Evans. The reason I've asked is that, after discussing this with Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, I thought it might be beneficial for you to have some one-on-one instruction. It's not a common occurrence, of course, but not unheard of. We've found that some of our students over the years have a special aptitude in certain fields of magical study that should be cultivated."
Lily couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her, study with Flitwick? She knew that she had a particular affinity for Charms work, but she would have never suspected it warranted special instruction.
"Sir, I would be delighted. Charms has always been my favorite, and well…"
"Say no more, my dear!"
The professor cast Accio on two books that sat on his desk. They levitated right into her hands, and Lily could tell just how old they must have been by looking at them. They were likely filled with ancient charms the likes of which she had never seen or even dreamed of.
"You can take a look at those, though do practice with care. There isn't anything particularly dangerous in them, but you'll find that it requires a different level of magic than what our normal course work demands. We can arrange a meeting at your earliest convenience. A week from today, perhaps?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but Thursdays are my Muggle Studies group meetings."
Or, Thursday evening should have been her Muggle Studies group meetings. However, Potter had spent the better part of a month canceling their sessions or, on one occasion, bringing Sirius along, which had been nothing short of disastrous. She really shouldn't ask a professor to work around her schedule, but Flitwick didn't seem to mind.
"Wednesdays then?"
"That works wonderfully. Thank you so much, Professor."
After she'd finished packing her things, Lily rushed off to tell Jane all about her luck. She wouldn't dare say anything to anyone else; no, she knew that they'd say: Surprised you're good at any magic at all, what with all that Muggle blood polluting your veins. Lily hated how many of her peers dismissed her proficiencies so easily. Perhaps she hated it even more than when they blamed her poor marks on her Muggle birth. She would be damned before she started letting those prejudices get to her now though, not today.
~*~
At one of the tables in the library, Lily sat with her Muggle Studies book open before her. Tapping her foot impatiently, she glanced at her watch every few seconds and frowned. It was the end of September, the deadline to their first reflection essay quickly approaching, and Potter had the nerve to be late. She wondered if he would even bother to grace her with his presence at all.
Just as she was about to close her text and seek Potter out-really, they had to get this reflection essay done-the library doors opened and he appeared. Potter looked winded and maybe even a little disheveled. Of course. He was probably in a broom cupboard somewhere with some girl and forgot all about her. She should have known.
"Sorry I'm late," he said breathlessly, taking the seat across from her.
"Snogging some girl and lost track of time?"
Really there was no sense in mincing words at this point. Her anger had already got the better of her, and it wasn't as if he didn't deserve a thorough tongue lashing.
"No, it was Sirius. He and Reg got into a fight, and he needed me there, alright?"
Lily supposed that she could have held her tongue for a few moments now that she'd discovered the reason behind his tardiness. She would give the pass to Potter just because she knew how bad those arguments between the brothers were, and that without someone there to calm Black down afterwards, things often went disastrously.
"Is he okay?"
"Yeah, bit hacked off still."
Lily noticed the bruise blooming on Potter's jaw and a smudge of what looked to be blood on his shirt collar. That, and when he took out his quill and parchment, he saw that his knuckles were broke open. Wait a second, he wasn't…
"You weren't comforting him. You helped him in a fist fight!" she accused, incredulously.
"Did you really think that I show up to their arguments for moral support and to hug Sirius after it's all said and done? Perhaps let him weep a bit on my shoulder?" Potter scoffed. "Two-against-one or otherwise, Reg deserves what he has coming."
Alright, that was a bit absurd of her to think; she would give him that-not that it justified the fighting or his tardiness. Sighing, Lily opted to end the brewing argument where it was rather than let it get out of hand. Potter was already running on too much adrenaline, and if she pissed him off, he was likely to leave the library and taking any chance they had of passing Muggle Studies with him.
As a sort of peace offering, she took her wand out, closing up the cuts on his knuckles and easing the bruising on his jaw. He stared at her a moment, as if to ask her what had gotten into her. Lily shrugged.
"Right. Well then, where do we start?" he asked, relieved.
"I've no idea, to be honest."
She'd spent the better part of the last month just trying to get him to a meeting. What they would decide to talk about hadn't really been at the forefront of her mind, which in retrospect was really foolish of her.
"Did Dirwint say what our ruddy essays are supposed to be about anyway?" he asked, put out.
Lily glared. "Why are you taking this class again?"
"Because I have to."
Oh, right. Well, she would just have to forgive him for his foul mood then. He didn't want to be in the class anymore than she wanted to be his project partner, it seemed. Might as well buck up and figure something out.
"How about we go with the basics? He never said we couldn't talk about the differences between growing up as a Muggle and growing up as a wizard."
Potter slipped her a smooth smile. "Lily, my heart, you're brilliant. It won't take but an hour to throw that together."
"If we ever get started with our discussion. It'll be difficult to write the essays otherwise."
"Right then," he said, stretching. "What would you like to know about me?"
"Just start from the beginning and tell me anything that comes to mind."
"Well, I'm an only child. Mum and Dad tried for years, had a few miscarriages I think, but they only managed me. Um…I was born at home-"
"Wait," she said, jotting that down on a bit of parchment. "That's a difference."
"How do Muggles have babies then?"
"Home births aren't unheard of, but most women go to a hospital."
"A hospital?" he asked, incredulously. "But women have been giving birth on their own for centuries. Why do they need a hospital?"
Lily rolled her eyes. He made it sound as if childbirth were nothing more complex than making a sandwich. The poor woman who pulled the short straw and ended up married to him could expect more compassion from the Devil himself than James Potter, at least as far as child birth was concerned. What a totally rubbish father he would make.
"You forget, Potter, that we're not blessed with magic. We can't mix potions for the pains or cast warning charms to go off if there are complications. And should anything happen, we can't Apparate right to St. Mungo's."
"That's absurd. You can't Apparate when you're pregnant."
Resisting the urge to groan, Lily wondered if he'd even understood the point she was trying to make about the differences in potential dangers. She narrowed her eyes to show her displeasure with his comment.
"What? You can't."
"Alright, obviously we need to change subjects. This isn't working. The only thing we're accomplishing is bickering."
For a few moments, they sat in silence. Lily wasn't sure what to suggest, what topic would be safe enough for them to avoid arguing. Glancing across the table, she saw Potter looking rather thoughtful himself. Then his eyes met hers, and she quickly diverted her own. She felt a very strange sensation just then, staring into his eyes.
"Tell me about the war, Lily. I want to know what it's like for you."
She froze in place; someone might as well have cast Petrificus Totalus on her. How in the bloody hell did he do that? Of all the things to talk about, he had to pick, almost intuitively, the one thing that she didn't want to talk to anyone about, not even her closest friends. Was this some sort of joke? Was he looking to take the piss out? Because it wasn't a funny matter. It was serious, and that was a concept that James Potter struggled with.
"I'm not asking to be a berk. I'm asking because I sincerely want to know," he said, before she had the chance to refute the suggestion. "I see Muggle-borns around school. I'm friends with them, but I can't begin to imagine what it must be like."
Lily dared to look him in the eyes again. He was being earnest; she could tell. But that didn't change the fact that it was an extremely sensitive topic, one that, at times, had sent her into tears. She couldn't risk letting him see her so affected by something. Lily didn't really know him after all.
"I don't think this is an appropriate conversation."
"But it is. That is why we need projects like this. We're never going to learn to live together if we don't understand one another, am I right?"
"I understand where you're coming from, I really do. I just can't."
For a moment, she thought he was going to leave things. His silence implied as much. But then he shook his head slowly in reflection and met her eyes once more.
"It's not right-what's happening. They're killing innocents, and they-the victims-are innocent. I don't buy into this dirty blood propaganda, even though you might find that hard to believe-"
"I don't," she interjected. "I mean, why would I think that?"
"It's a bit obvious, isn't it? You don't like me, and you always expect the worst from me."
She considered his words. It probably seemed like that to most people, and he did irk her. That didn't necessarily mean that she hated him though. When he was being mature, as he was being right then, well, he was quite tolerable. In fact, it was enlightening to see this passionate side of Potter that shared the same views that she did. It made her question her perpetual bitterness towards him.
"I don't expect the worst from you, even though you have a tendency towards disappointing others and breaking the rules. And sometimes you can even be a little bit…bearable," she said softly.
Potter smiled at her, and for the first time, Lily realized that as far as smiles went, his was above average. He seemed amused by her little confession, and she guessed it was funny that being called "bearable" by someone could actually be a compliment.
"I know there are a lot of pure-bloods out there who harbor hatred towards Muggles and Muggle-borns, and it's really easy to just lump us altogether. But, Lily, you should know that I don't carry those ideologies. I know I can be a prat sometimes, but understand at least this much-I don't do it in hate."
Nodding, Lily began to wonder if she shouldn't share a small something with him since he'd gone out of his way to ease her mind. Not that she'd ever thought that James Potter hated her kind, but the reassurance that he wouldn't stand for such a thing was very comforting. And while he was often thought to be a liar, a schemer, and an all-round mischief maker, Lily knew that he wouldn't lie about something so delicate. Even so, the thought of telling him something about the war from her perspective didn't set well with her. No, she couldn't, or at least not yet.
"Thank you. It means a lot, Potter. Really it does. And maybe sometime later in the year we can discuss it, but I'd rather not right now."
"Understandable. So would you like to tell me a little more about yourself then? Obviously I'm rubbish at telling you about me."
For the greater part of an hour, Lily discussed what it was like growing up in a Muggle home, how her parents handled having a witch in the family, and also what it was like to have a sibling. Potter marveled at some of the things she'd told him, especially the tales about her accidental magic, and often added in something about his own childhood or how things were different for a child in the Wizarding world.
Their discussion was really fascinating, but what interested her even more was the fact that she and Potter could carry on an intellectual conversation. Lily found that he was well mannered, despite all evidence to the contrary, and that he was very easy to talk to.
When Potter brought their conversation to a close (claiming a Transfiguration essay as his excuse), Lily was almost disappointed. Naturally she blamed it on an interest in their discussion rather than Potter himself. And while she grappled for a reason why they should continue on, she found herself without one. They had all the information they needed for their essay.
"Want to walk back to the common room with me?" he asked.
"That would be lovely, thanks."
Potter even went so far as to offer to carry her things, but Lily didn't let him. There would be implications with that, she feared. Not to mention the fact that, if anyone saw them, she would be teased or given the cold shoulder even more so than usual. But, she supposed, there were worse things in life than being seen with James Potter carrying her books. Once upon a time she wouldn't have thought so, so coming to that conclusion quite surprised her.
"So tell me more about this sister of yours. Is Posey-"
"Petunia," she corrected.
He shrugged. "Is she as pretty as you are?"
Her cheeks flushed, though she wasn't sure if it was because of the question itself or because of the compliment it paid to her. Not that Potter hadn't called her pretty before, but it felt a little different this time. She hoped he hadn't noticed; the last thing she wanted was any advances made by him.
"Is that question at all appropriate?" she asked, praying to God that she wasn't blushing as much as she thought she was.
"Well I obviously don't have much of a chance with one Evans girl. Might as well see if I've a shot with the other," he said, punctuating it with a wink.
"You'd have a better chance with me, to be honest. Petunia…well, she finds pleasure in the mediocre things in life."
"I take it that you being a witch doesn't set well with her then?"
That was the understatement of the century. Petunia did everything in her power to stress the differences between herself and Lily and make sure it was known that the normal way of doing things was far superior to Lily's way. She belittled every attempt Lily made at trying to do things the "right" way, taking every opportunity to comment if Lily's hair wasn't properly plaited or if her cosmetics were too heavy. Her sister did all this knowing that Lily had learned how to do such things magically before she learned them the Muggle way. She had, after all, become a teenager in a school for witchcraft, which left her with a certain disadvantage when she had to go about things through "normal" means.
"Let's put it this way, Petunia didn't write to me my entire first two years at Hogwarts, and she only wrote to me in third year to inform me that she was moving into my bedroom."
Potter's wince was all the evidence that she needed to know that she'd got her point across. Pretty or not, apparently Potter wouldn't even consider pursuing someone who thought of him as abnormal. No doubt that would deflate his gigantic ego. On second thought, perhaps they should meet. If anyone could make James Potter feel about an inch big, it would be her dear sister.
~*~
"I don't care that he sleeps with anything that moves, Mel. Have you seen Johnson in those Quidditch robes? It's not a wonder why all the girls want some time in the broom cupboard with him," Annalise said, chatting animatedly to one of their fellow Gryffindors at lunch, a few weeks after Lily's first Muggle Studies meeting with Potter.
Lily, meanwhile, was idly playing with the peas on her plate and skimming through the Charms text that Flitwick had lent her. She couldn't help but wonder if there hadn't been a charm placed on the book itself, as she struggled to stop reading it every time it was opened. The things that she'd begun to study were very advanced and took everything she knew to be put to use. It was a challenge and very exciting. And the results? Lily couldn't believe some of the things she'd been able to achieve after just a few lessons.
"Evans."
She looked up to find Potter and company pausing at her lunch table, Potter and Black dressed in their Quidditch robes-afternoon practice, she assumed. Noticing the way the fabric pulled tightly across their chests, Lily couldn't help but wonder if they'd shrunk their uniforms a bit to give the girls a better look at what they had to offer. And much to her dismay, Lily found herself doing just that-stealing a glance at Potter's toned chest. Why did it feel warm in the Great Hall all of a sudden?
"Looking fit there, Black," Annalise said. "I know of a cupboard that could use occupying."
Lily's eyes flitted over to Remus, who looked positively annoyed. Since Remus and Black's relationship was not well known even among their housemates, these sorts of harmless flirtations happened often. She knew that they bothered Remus, and she'd been told that Black had cut back on it for that reason. But Black was still Black (an attention seeking whore, in her personal opinion), and he sometimes went along with it.
"I'll go find us seats," Remus muttered, stalking off further up the table followed by Peter.
Black noticed Remus' blatant frustrations, and much to Lily's surprise, began to ignore Annalise completely. The unfortunate consequence was that he now turned to her.
"And Evans," Sirius said. "Looking particularly shaggable today. I like what you've done with your hair-very naughty school girl."
Lily's blood began to boil, and she quickly tore her hair out of the bunches she'd styled it in that morning. Anything that Black found appealing had to go. She hated him, and she hated the thought of him checking her out even more.
"Getting a little angry, are we?" He turned to Potter. "Evans looks a bit pent up, Prongs. Crouch knows of an empty broom cupboard. Why don't you escort her there and help her release some of that tension. What her Muggle boyfriend doesn't know won't hurt him, eh?"
Sirius let out a bark of laughter, but what was worse was that Potter's laugh-the very one Lily had just begun to admire-joined his. So he thought Black's vulgar comment was funny, did he? And he had apparently shared with Black the fact that she had a boyfriend, as the only other person who knew was Jane and she would never betray her confidence. How could she have ever thought that stupid James Potter could ever be trusted with personal information?
Lily promptly jumped out of her seat and flick-swished her wand before Potter and Black ever stopped laughing. Well they certainly wouldn't be laughing the next time they went to the loo, and Black would be lucky to see the inside of a broom cupboard in the next week with that little hex.
"This is exactly why I can't tolerate you, Potter."
She snatched her text into her arms and stormed from the table, not really realizing that Potter had stopped laughing. If she would have turned around, she would have seen him looking rather distressed, would have seen the frown on his lips and sadness in his eyes. But she hadn't turned around and she wouldn't turn around ever for an arrogant toe-rag like James Potter.
~*~
Lily spent the better part of a week avoiding Potter after the lunchroom incident, making it a point to leave the room whenever he entered. They had accidently bumped into each other once while she was coming out of the loo, but she quickly dismissed him and threatened to hex him further if he followed her. It wasn't until Thursday of the following week that he cornered her outside while she was writing a love letter to David beneath her favorite tree.
"May I?" he asked softly, gesturing to the grass next to her.
"I'm not interested in whatever you have to say, so you might as well save your breath."
Potter sat regardless of her warning, taking mind not to sit too close. Lily had the sneaking suspicion that he knew she was liable to combust at the slightest irritation and wasn't going to risk incurring her wrath.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about the other day."
She glared at him. "It's not worth anything."
"What was it that upset you the most?"
She looked at him incredulously. Did he really not know? Boys were thick at times, she knew that much, but was he honestly that oblivious? Anger licked her insides.
"Ignoring the fact that you completely betrayed my confidence, did you hear the things Black was saying? Or were you too busy laughing to really consider it? You two treat girls like they're things to be thrown away whenever your interests are carried off on some other whim. And for some reason, they tolerate it. Well, I won't. I'm not like other girls. I have a little more respect for myself. And I will never be your good time, Potter. "
There, that would show him. Perhaps it would even deflate his ego a bit-hearing that there was at least one girl who wouldn't be caught dead with him. And maybe Lily needed to hear herself say it too. As much as she'd loathed Potter in the past, he was sort of growing on her over the course of their meetings. Things that she'd never taken noticed of before-his eyes and smile, his elegant fingers wrapped around his quill, the smell of his cologne-were at the forefront of her thoughts during Muggle Studies discussions. Lily wouldn't allow herself to be caught up in the physical things, not when it meant that she could potentially come to fancy someone like Potter.
In response to her words, Lily expected an instant retaliation from him-some stupid comment or innuendo. However, he just sat there, wind ruffling his hair, and was silent. She wondered what he was thinking, wondered whether any of her words had sunk into that thick skull of his.
"I know you're not like other girls, Lily, and that's why I'd never ask you to be my fifteen minutes in a broom cupboard," he said finally.
"So what? Is this the part where you tell me you're in love with me?" she asked bitterly.
"No, I'm not in love with you. I don't know you well enough to feel that because you've never given me a fucking chance, Evans." Potter stood, fists clenched. "But I will say one thing: I have learned more about you during our talks, and I've discovered that-when you're not being an utter harpy-you're really an incredible girl. And I respect you. Not that it's worth anything."
His words pierced her, so much so that she couldn't even call him back as he stormed away. He'd hurt her, so she'd hurt him back. Lily thought that it would make her feel better-after all, those sorts of comments always had before and he'd never taken them this seriously back then. But she didn't feel better; she felt worse, in fact. Lily regretted ever saying that nothing he said could ever mean anything to her, mostly because it was a complete lie. Things that came out of Potter's mouth lately-those intelligent and heartfelt words-had mattered a lot to her.
She was an incredible girl? He respected her? What did that even mean? She would have dismissed them quickly last year as pretty compliments paid to her so that he could try to get into her knickers. But now? Maybe he didn't have an ulterior motive after all. When Lily considered all those times she'd been a complete bitch to him as he praised her skill or appearance, she loathed herself.
What happened to those days when they were just Evans and Potter, with clear lines drawn and boundaries marked? The days when they wouldn't have thought provoking discussions and would instead bicker back and forth? This uncharted territory with him frightened her. What would it mean for her? For him? For them?
Continue to Part 3