Dear Tuney,
I hope you are well. Did Mum tell you about my letter to her? If not, I just was updating you all on my first week back at school. Classes are busy, being Head Girl is kind of stressful, but it's good to be back with friends.
How is Vernon? I know he and I haven't really clicked or been able to spend much time together, but I'm glad he makes you happy. I also wanted to let you know if you feel like I've been making unfair judgements about him, I'm sorry. Sometimes, people are hard to read, even when you've known them a long time.
Anyways, I miss you. Keep me updated on your fancy new promotion (Congratulations!).
Love,
Lily
***
"He really thinks there are Death Eaters here at school?" Alice says, sitting upright.
When I'd made it upstairs to the seventh-year girls' dormitory, I'd found Alice, Emmeline, and Marlene waiting for me. Carol's and Mary's beds were empty, too, which was perfect. We'd wasted no time all piling onto my bed for a good chat. Alice and I have our backs resting on the wall at the head of the bed, while Marlene sprawls on the foot. Emmeline perches on the edge, hugging my pillow to her while I talked.
"Yeah, seems so," I say in a hushed voice. I've just finished relaying what Professor Dumbledore had said to me and Potter in his office, leaving out, of course, the part where he went over the great things about the pair of us. Don't need to self-praise or anything.
"And he wants you to sniff them out?" Marlene asks. She's propped up on one elbow and her eyes gleam in the dim light.
"Well, Potter and me. And I don't think we're exactly supposed to hunt anyone down. Just... keep an eye out, you know?"
"Wow..." Alice says. She leans back slowly against my pillow and stares at the ceiling.
"Yeah," I say again.
"That's bloody brilliant," Marlene says. "Hey Lil, if you need anyone with you to catch some Dark wizards, let me know, yeah?"
I snort. "Thanks Marlene. I'll come right to you the next time Rosier or Lestrange calls me 'Mudblood'."
"Do it!" Marlene insists. "I'd be more than glad to take down any one of those --"
But Alice sits back up suddenly. "But Lily, she has a point. Don't you think that if there really are any prospective Death Eaters in the school, that group of Slytherins would definitely be them?"
"Well, yes. They are exactly who I thought of when Dumbledore brought it up. I mean, they are not exactly subtle, are they? Rosier and Lestrange... Merlin, even Mulciber and Black and..."
"And Severus," Alice says. Marlene's eyebrows shoot right up her forehead.
I shake my head. "No, we've been through this before. Just because Sev is in the same House as them..."
"They're not just Housemates, Lily. He's friends with all of them."
I squirm, but she's right. Just not about all of it. "Severus would never," I say adamantly.
Alice's eyes flash, but before she can press the issue further, I look over to Emmeline. "What do you think, Emma? About what Dumbledore said?" Emmeline has been very quiet this whole time, chewing on her pinky nail and not commenting on anything we'd been discussing.
"Well..." she says hesitantly, her eyes darting around at all of us. "Umm..."
"Well, what?" Marlene says.
"Well, it sounds very dangerous, doesn't it?" Emmeline says. "Is this really something Professor Dumbledore should even be asking of students?"
"Potter and I aren't just students, though," I point out. "We're the Heads. And in any case, none of us are going to be students for much longer. We're already all of age now."
"I guess..." Emmeline says, still gnawing at her fingernail.
"Don't worry, Em," Marlene reassures her. "Like I said, Lily has me to hunt down the Slytherins with."
"And James," I say, without thinking.
It's like I've set off one of Filibuster's fireworks right there on my bed. Marlene shoots straight up from where she's been laying. Emmeline's hand drops from her face and she stares at me with her mouth hanging open. Alice lets out a small shriek of laughter and turns to look at me, all thoughts of Severus and Death Eaters swept cleanly away.
"James?" she says incredulously. Delightedly.
"Potter -- whatever," I mumble, looking decidedly at anything in the dormitory except them – Emma's collection of quills, my Transfiguration textbook, Merlin, even Marlene's dirty socks on the floor.
"It's not whatever," Marlene says. She's grinning so wide, her freckles are threatening to pop right off her cheeks. "It's been 'Potter this' and 'Potter that' forever and now you think you can just brush it aside when you call him 'James'?"
"It is his name," I say, a little exasperatedly. "You all call him that too!"
"But we haven't been rowing with him for the last six years." Even Emmeline is in on it, eyes sparkling.
"Do tell us, Lily. Whatever happened to make this change? Any romantic trysts you're hiding from us?" Alice teases, throwing an arm around me.
"Oh great Merlin, you guys are blowing this way out of proportion," I insist, pushing her away. "All I did was use the prat's actual name and now we're apparently – what – in love or something?" But my cheeks feel hot and I'm honestly equally shocked at myself. James? Really? Where in the bloody world did that come from? Honestly!
Emmeline giggles. "Lily, you sure are red for someone who isn't romantically involved with 'the prat' James Potter."
Marlene and Alice have dissolved into giggles too now. "You all are ridiculous," I say, rubbing my eyes in exasperation. "Look... LOOK," I say louder, to get them to stop laughing and listen, so that I can immediately squash any inkling of romance between Potter and myself. "Potter --" Marlene lets out another little snort of laughter. I glare at her and she claps a hand across her mouth, stifling her giggle. "Potter," I say emphatically, "and I have just been spending more time together lately and, well, I guess he's not as horrible as I thought. Maybe."
Movement in the dormitory catches my eye over Marlene's head. A moment later, Carol and Mary breeze in. Carol gives me a sticky sweet smile, pausing at the end of my bed and resting a hand on one of the posts.
"Talking about James, are you? Yes, he was just telling me how... interesting it is working with you, Lily."
"Oh, go mark your territory somewhere else, Carol," Marlene says dispassionately. "You and James are old news now, right? I heard he ditched you over the summer."
Carol frowns at Marlene, but I hurry to put in a word before this can escalate any further. "Not that it matters," I say through gritted teeth, glaring at Marlene. "There is absolutely nothing going on between Potter and me."
Carol laughs a light, tinkling kind of laugh. "Oh, of course there isn't! James does have some standards." She gives me a once over. "Not that you're not pretty, Lily," she says patronizingly, "but I do think a Potter is worth someone whose parents... well, whose parents can navigate the wizarding world easier than your...muggle... ones can."
"Now wait a minute," Alice exclaims angrily. I scramble to my feet, blood pumping in my ears. My fingers wrap around my wand in my pocket, itching to whip it out and hex Carol, even though a little voice says in the back of my mind that that would probably not be a good look for the Head Girl, especially one who just promised all the prefects she'd do better. Anyway, Marlene's got my back; her wand is already pointed threateningly at Carol.
Carol just laughs again and reaches out to knock Marlene's wand aside with one finger. "Put it away, Marlene. Our Head Girl certainly wouldn't tolerate a duel breaking out in the dormitories, would she?" She smiles that same overly-simpering smile at me.
"Go to bed, Carol," I snarl.
"Whatever you ask," she says. Within moments, she's shut securely behind the drapes on her own four-poster bed. Mary, who'd been hovering behind Carol the whole time, gives us a nervous smile before scurrying to her bed next to Carol's.
Emmeline frowns at their closed draperies. "You could report her, you know. She shouldn't talk to you that way."
Marlene shakes her head. "I can't believe we've put up with her for six years now."
"Well, this is the last one," I say bracingly.
"But be careful, Lily," Alice warns. "The more time you spend with James this year, the more you know she's going to go after you."
I scoff. "Whatever for? Why aren't any of you listening? Potter and I are just Head students together. We're not even friends."
Alice rolls her eyes. "Lily, you know very well Carol is threatened by you after all those years of James asking you out."
I laugh right out loud at this. "But why? Potter was just being a tease. That wasn't for real."
"Lily..." Marlene says, shaking her head at me now.
"What?" I protest, on the defensive. She just shakes her head some more.
Alice looks at me pityingly. "Sometimes, Lily, you really can be so obtuse."
***
I report to the library the following night at eight pm like I had the previous week. I'm feeling a little nervous.
It's just Potter, I remind myself. Just because you've finally had one real conversation with him that didn't end in anyone yelling or storming off doesn't make him someone to be intimidated by.
He's waiting for me again, but this time I know where to find him so he doesn't have to yell across the whole library for everyone to hear. We're back in the little Transfiguration study nook behind all the shelves. Potter's bent over a large piece of parchment, quill bobbing and waving as he makes some annotations on it. As I get closer, I see it's not an essay or any kind of homework that I recognize. Instead, it looks more like... a map, maybe?
But then he looks up and sees me. He smiles, but also immediately taps the parchment with his wand tip, murmuring something too quiet for me to hear. In moments, the parchment is blank and folded up and put away.
"Hey, Lily," he greets me with a broad grin. I know he's emphasizing my names just to rib me, but my eyes linger on the table where the mysterious parchment had been in an unspoken question. He looks down too, like he expects to see it there still. His grin falters, and he rubs at his hair. "Ahh, that was... a bit of a personal project."
"Can I see it?" I ask innocently. He's acting way too shady about this for it to be anything entirely allowed, but he shakes his head, regaining his confidence quickly.
"Nice try," he says, "but we need to get working on Transfiguration. This time isn't about me!" He's teasing, but there's a tiny plea in his eyes that begs me not to ask again.
Against my better judgement, I let it slide. I'm supposed to be on my best behavior tonight. I'm supposed to try and trust him. I can do that. For now. But if I catch any more whiffs of mischief tonight...
"Fine," I say. I take the chair across from him. We're seated how we were last week, the first time we'd tried to work together, and it had been disastrous. This time, I'm determined for it to go better. I remember Alice's advice to me: "If you go in thinking James is going to be a terrible tutor, then that's probably what you'll get."
"What's the plan for tonight, then?" I ask.
"So, I was thinking about our last tutoring session and how it went... er... not so great. And I want to try something a little different today. Go back to the basics, if you will."
Potter digs into his trouser pocket, then holds out his hand. Sitting there is a box of matches.
I look at it, then at him, eyebrows raised. "Matches?" I say. "I mean, I know I'm bad, but I'm not that bad. That's first year magic." If we weren't on a truce, I'd think he was pranking me again. As it is...
No, Lily. Give him a chance. You need to get better at Transfiguration.
I think Potter can tell I'm fighting my natural instincts to be irritated at him, so he hurries to explain. "No! I don't think you're that bad! But the ease of it is the point. Just... give it a try, okay? Trust me, yeah?"
I think back to last night, his earnest expressions and the way he wished me a good night and "Why me?". I sigh and slip out my wand in a reluctant sort of way. "Matchsticks into needles?"
He nods. "Matchsticks into needles."
He shakes a handful of them out and places them in front of me on the table. "Do you need any help?"
I laugh, a bit disdainfully. "Again, Potter. I may be a disaster at Transfiguration, but I'm not so bad that I can't transform a matchstick." To prove it, I tap the match in front of me, and it shimmers from wood to shiny silver. I even do it nonverbally. I smirk at Potter, but he just smiles like he expected as much.
"Can you do it again?" he asks.
I give him an odd look but comply. Another wand tap, another needle.
"Good," Potter says. "Now let's step it up. Matchstick into a quill."
Again, I refrain from rolling my eyes. This is hardly advanced stuff. But I'm here to try and actually learn from Potter, so again, I follow through.
This goes on, with Potter changing up the object to transform my matchsticks into every so often. Before long, the table is covered with an odd assortment of things; needles and quills, yes, but also walking canes, forks, potion ladles, a hand broom, and an umbrella.
Potter is looking quite pleased at this point, though I'm still thoroughly confused at the point of this. How is transforming matchsticks going to help me with my NEWT lessons?
"Okay," Potter says, sliding another match over to me. "This needs to be a snake now."
I blink, a little uncertain. So far, we've been sticking to inanimate objects, and it's been going pretty great, but everyone knows once you throw something living into the equation, it gets way harder. "Okay..." I agree reluctantly and attempt the spell one more time. However, this time, nothing happens. I frown and try again.
"Ignisatus serpens!" But nothing happens. Again. Of course.
I scowl. "Umm, Potter...?"
But when I look at him, he's got a satisfied grin on his face, like he's just solved a puzzle.
"What are you so pleased about?" I huff. I'd been starting to believe maybe we were on to something. I haven't had that much success at Transfiguration since second year... which, come to think of it, was when Professor McGonagall made us all start transfiguring animals. Why is this even a thing?
"I think I've figured you out, Lily," Potter says smugly.
"Oh really?" I say, rolling my eyes, not even trying to stop myself this time. "Do tell."
"You," he says, with the air of someone about to reveal a huge secret, "have a confidence problem."
There's a very long pause where I just look at him and he nods sagely, like, I know, can you believe it?
And then I let out a very undignified snort. "Yes, and?" I ask.
Potter tips his head to one side. "What do you mean 'yes, and'?"
"I mean," I say, "this is not news to me. I already know I have confidence issues."
Now it's Potter's turn to stare. His eyebrows draw in tight as he considers me with a frown. "But..." he says slowly, "you're Lily Evans."
I snort again. "Yes, and?" I repeat.
He shakes his head, apparently bewildered by my total blasé attitude about this whole conversation. Predictably, one hand goes to his head to stand his hair on end. "You're Lily Evans," he says. "Lily Evans, top of every class, prefect, Head Girl, teacher's pet, beautiful..."
I feel myself go red right to the roots of my hair, but he keeps talking, like it's just another fact among all the others.
"And yet, so friendly and kind to everyone. You know," he says, shrugging, like all of this is irrevocably true. "Lily Evans. Perfect."
I know I'm so red my skin probably blends seamlessly into my hair. I raise my eyebrows at him. "So much of what you just said is... so wrong."
He shrugs again. "Maybe. But you know that's how most people see you, right?"
"I'm not sure why!" I splutter. "Anyone who's spent any sort of time with me knows I'm a right mess! You hardly need me to tell you that – you've seen my bloody terrible Transfiguration skills all too well. Not to mention my temper," I add ruefully.
Potter laughs right out loud. "But that's exactly the point," he says. "I'm seeing it all now and you're right... you are a right mess."
I'm so surprised, a loud "HA!" of laughter escapes me. I clap my hand over my mouth. We are in the library, after all, even if all the shelves separating us from the main area make our little study nook feel more private than it actually is.
Potter's eyes twinkle at me. "I've had this... idea of you in my head for so long, this perfect, infallible person..."
"And look how wrong you were there," I say, covering my eyes with my hands.
"Not entirely," he says cheekily, still all bright-eyed. "But Merlin, I didn't realize how much you doubt yourself! Which," he says, finally slipping back into a more serious demeanor, "is exactly why you find Transfiguration so hard."
"How do you figure?" I ask.
"Because," he says, picking up the matchstick I had failed to transfigure earlier, "Transfiguration is all about confidence. It's knowing, without a doubt, that anything can become another thing. That everything has the potential to be whatever you want it to be." He waves his wand, and the match between his fingertips elongates easily into a gold and green snake, head arching gracefully down, black tongue flicking out to taste the air. And then he waves his wand again and the matchstick is just a matchstick. He hands it to me and I take it automatically.
"Your problem," he says, "is that you don't have the confidence that anything alive can change, or that anything stagnant can come to life, for that matter. Best case scenario, nothing happens. Worst case... well..."
"Things go horribly wrong," I finish for him, thinking back to the tiger in Transfiguration class the first day.
"And now you've built up a huge mental block around Transfiguration in general," he says. "Your foundational skills are flawless --" he nods at all the objects sitting atop the desk that I've transfigured throughout the evening, "-- but anything advanced you have absolutely no confidence that it's going to work out."
"Huh," I say. I put his theory to the test, thinking back to all my recent Transfiguration mishaps. "You actually might be on to something."
"I know I am," he says smugly.
"Okay, then," I say, choosing to ignore his usual overabundance of confidence, "teach me how to work around it."
So we set to work. James has a bunch of drills he makes me do over and over and we practice a lot more of the basics with Potter pointing out every skill in each simple spell that carries over to the more advanced wand work. We're working so hard I'm shocked when Madam Pince comes by to tell us the library is closing. Quarter to ten! We've been at this for nearly two hours.
Potter stands and stretches. "Great work, Lily."
When I'm out of my chair and on my feet, I can definitely believe that we'd been sitting there for two hours. I follow his lead and stretch too. "Thanks." Then, grudgingly, "You weren't so bad yourself. At, you know, the tutoring thing."
He laughs. "Thanks. I know that took a lot for you to admit."
The lantern over the table magically goes out - Madam Pince's not so subtle way of telling us to get out of her library. We hurriedly pack our things up and go, making our way through the Transfiguration shelves.
It's so late, and past the younger students' curfew, that I expect us to be the only ones hurrying out the library doors. However, just before we step out of the privacy of the Transfiguration section, I see a small group of students also heading out, coming from the section of the library dedicated to Potions. What's more is I recognize these students.
I stop short and Potter runs right into my back.
"Oof! Sorry. What are --"
"Shhhh!" I hiss, pushing him back and peering out.
It's the Slytherins – Rosier, Lestrange, Mulciber, Regulus Black, and – I frown with concern – Severus. Madam Pince is shooting sharp looks at them like arrows, but they ignore her, taking their own fine sweet time to leave. They haven't noticed us either and whisper furtively together.
Potter peeks around me. "What are they all doing here?" he mutters.
"Not sure..." I breathe. "But does it look like Lestrange has got something...?" I lean forward a bit further, trying to see what Lestrange is stuffing into his school bag, but when I do, Severus suddenly glances our way and I hurriedly jerk back, slamming myself and Potter into the bookshelves. We stay perfectly still until we hear the library doors slam shut. Then we exhale in unison, which makes me realize just how close James and I are huddled together; the breath he lets out tickles the hairs on the nape of my neck. I shiver and take a step away.
"I'd love to know what they were up to," Potter says. "That group of them, definitely up to no good."
Part of me wants to agree – they did look shifty as anyone I've ever seen – but the other part of me...
"We have no proof anything was going on," I say. "So they were in the library late." I shrug. "We are too. It doesn't mean anything." I can hear the defensive note in my voice.
Potter hears it too. He scowls. "You're only saying that because Snape was with them."
"So what?" I fire back. "If Severus was with them, they weren't up to anything bad."
Potter puts a hand to his head, looking up to the ceiling like he's asking for help or patience. It's very dramatic. "Ugh! How you can continue to defend him! He's the worst."
"You're just getting hung up on your preconceptions," I say crossly. "You decided to dislike him from the very first moment on the train first year, and now you can't get over it."
"If you're so sure about him, why don't you ask him what he's up to? go up to Snape and ask him what he and his Slytherin pals are doing so late in the library?" Potter challenges.
"I'm not going to accuse my friend of sneaking around when he's clearly not up to anything!"
"Now who can't get over their preconceptions?"
I open my mouth to retort, but Madam Pince swoops down on us. "Out!" she screeches. "How many times do I have to tell all of you? OUT!"
She brandishes her wand like a sword and a stream of books hurtles off the shelves, flapping their pages wildly. Alarmed, Potter and I sprint out the library doors, the books chasing behind us and nipping at our heels and robes. When the door slams shut, we hear the angry books thud against it.
Potter and I look at each other, wide-eyed. His hair is sticking up every which way, but I'm sure mine is too. Then we burst out laughing.
"Absolutely mad, that one," Potter says, shaking his head and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as we head back up to Gryffindor Tower together, still chuckling. "Though I guess she was right to make us get going." He checks his watch. "It's late and I've still got to finish up that essay for Slughorn tomorrow."
"Potter!"
"What?"
"We stayed so long in the library tonight! We could've finished earlier, you could have had more time to work on that!" The essay in question was an uncharacteristically grueling one Professor Slughorn had assigned at the end of class yesterday on the breakdown of each Polyjuice ingredient and the part they all played in the final brew. I had barely managed to finish my own essay over dinner, only half paying attention to my food while I researched boomslang skin and slopped potatoes all over my textbook.
"Eh, it's fine," James says. "I'll get it done. Besides, this was more important." He says this matter-of-factly. "We got a lot accomplished tonight."
I look at him, frowning. He keeps doing this, surprising me with all the ways he can actually be thoughtful. Just look at what I was able to do in tutoring tonight, thanks to his patient instruction. And how none of the prefects have made anymore snide remarks to me since James apologized for us.
"Fine," I say finally.
He looks at me quizzically.
"Fine," I repeat. "I'll talk to Severus about what they were all up to tonight. They did look like they might be up to something," I say ruefully. "And I suppose this is what Professor Dumbledore put us up to."