But I don't talk to Severus the next day in Potions. Or when I see him on the grounds during a free period on Thursday, or not even in double Potions on Friday, at least not about the library. The excuse I make is that I'm too busy to have that intense of a conversation with him right now. The reality is I'm having way too much fun being friends with Sev again to want to rock the boat by prying about his Housemates. So instead, I really throw myself into our Potions lessons and keep the conversation focused on our mission to find his perfect happy memory; the little purse is starting to overflow with all the little scraps of paper we've written our recollections on.
It's turned out to be a fantastic distraction. At first, it was just me coming up with memories, but little by little Sev started adding them, too. They're a mixture of sentimental, like my first one, but also silly, like the one Sev wrote that says Remember when you thought you could eat a whole Chocolate Frog in one bite, and you did, but then it hopped around in your stomach for like three days after that?
And it's working. During our free period on Thursday, Severus tells me he had been very very close to producing something solid that morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"What did it look like?" I ask while we walked around the lake. The first hint of autumn bit in the breeze off the water.
"I don't know," Severus says. "But it's going to be something big..."
But it's not all excuses about avoiding the conversation about Sev's fellow Slytherins; I really am extremely busy. The school year is fully in swing now and the professors are dolling out homework like it's Honeyduke's fresh fudge on the third years' first Hogsmeade weekend. I barely have a spare moment to myself, especially after the House Heads get Potter and I their lists of students who have been approved as tutors, along with a list of students who need one. I take on a student myself, third year Timothy Llewlyn from the Slug Club who needs help in Charms, and we set up a regular meeting time for tutoring every Wednesday right after dinner.
Saturday morning, though, I'm really feeling guilty about avoiding dealing with Severus and thinking maybe I'll just ask him about the library over breakfast, all casual. I usually see him eating in the mornings around the same time I do, and a Saturday morning will be lazy and quiet, a good time to keep our conversation private.
But when I get down to the Great Hall, I'm shocked to find it buzzing with students.
Marlene plops herself down next to me. I look at her in shock too.
"Marlene! What in the name of Merlin are you doing up at this hour? And on a Saturday, no less!"
She hoists her leg up on the bench between us so she can lace her trainers and I take a good look at her. Padded breeches, lightweight Gryffindor sweater, gloves on the table in front of her... wait a moment...
"Quidditch tryouts!" Marlene says brightly. She switches legs. "James is holding them today."
"Huh." I say. "I didn't realize you'd have to try out again this year."
"James thinks it's best practice, make sure everyone who wants to try out has a fair chance."
"Huh," I say again, looking around the Great Hall at all the students clamoring about and shoveling down sausages and eggs. "Well, that doesn't explain why all the other House tables are also so full."
"Sure it does!" Marlene says, now helping herself to a slice of toast and buttering it generously. She takes a huge bite. "We're the team to beat this year, after thoroughly stomping everyone last season," she explains through a mouth full of crumbs. "They all want to check out who's going to be their competition this year." She swallows before stuffing the rest of the slice in her mouth and chasing it down with a glass of pumpkin juice. "Anyway, I got to get going, want a chance to warm up. See you on the pitch!"
I roll my eyes at her retreating back. I barely make it to the first and last Gryffindor matches of the year; my tolerance for Quidditch is relatively low. I dislike how a match doesn't have a set amount of time so I never know when it will end, and I'm always unsure who I should be watching. The Chasers? The Seeker? The Beaters? In the end, it just usually ends up feeling like a waste of my time.
So Marlene is really being optimistic if she thinks I'm going to end up in the stands on a Saturday morning just to watch the bloody tryouts.
I settle into my own plate of food, mulling over my plans for the day and watching the Great Hall slowly empty of all the Quidditch-crazed early risers. I'm just starting to luxuriate in the return to my normal, quiet Saturday morning breakfast when Severus slides into the seat opposite me.
I startle and drop my fork. It clatters loudly when it hits my plate. "Severus! Hi!" I glance up and down the table and am not surprised to find it almost empty, just a few first years up near the front of the room yawning into their oatmeal and a fifth year ignoring her plate altogether in preference of her book. Severus would never have dared approach me at the Gryffindor table otherwise.
"Hey, Lily," Severus says. He smiles at me as he leans forward and plucks a strawberry off my plate.
I smack his hand. "Get your own breakfast."
"That's right. I forgot you're grumpy before you've eaten. There's a whole collection of memories that won't ever make it into the purse."
I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs. "What are you up to this morning?"
Well, my plan this morning had been to interrogate him, but with him so cheery, my resolve is already wavering.
"Oh, you know..." I wave my fork over my plate, evading the question.
"No pressing homework to get to? No plans to visit the library again?" His tone is too innocent; he stares at me.
I bite my lip at the mention of the library. "Nope!" I say, too brightly.
Severus stares at me some more. I smile and quickly take a bite of eggs.
He sighs and folds his arms in the table, leaning forward. "Look, Lily, you've been avoiding any real conversation all week, so I'm just going to say it. I saw you in the library on Tuesday."
I play dumb, which is a stupid move since I told Potter I'd talk to Sev about this anyway. "Hmm? The library on Tuesday? Yeah, I have tutoring there on Tuesdays. What about it?"
"C'mon Lil. I know you were there with Potter, and I know you two saw me and my Housemates, and I know Potter will have jumped to some stupid conclusion about what we were up to."
"Like what?" I protest.
"Oh, I'm sure he said something about us being the worst and always up to no good."
I bite my lip, because that is pretty much exactly what Potter had said. "Well," I press, abandoning the pretense that I don't know what we're talking about, "what were you all up to?"
He shrugs. "You know – school work, the like. Professors are all giving heavy workloads for NEWT levels this year."
I take a slow, suspicious bite of my eggs. "You know, I'm not sure I believe you," I say, after I've chewed and swallowed. "You all looked a little... sneaky... and Lestrange was hiding something in his bag."
"Whatever, Lily." Severus stands and starts to leave, making his way towards the Great Hall door between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables.
"Wait, where are you going?" I call after him. I hurry and shovel the last couple bites of my breakfast in my mouth so I can get up and follow him. I haven't even warned him about what Dumbledore said yet. Sneaky friends or not, I am worried about Severus getting in trouble by association; now is the perfect time to see if I can't convince him to finally ditch his sketchy Housemates. Where's he going in such a hurry, anyway?
"Quidditch pitch!" He turns and raises an eyebrow like, obviously, walking backward as he talks.
"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" I throw up my hands in exasperation. "Is that all anyone cares about around here anymore?"
He just waits for me, eyebrow still raised.
"Fine." I grumble. "I'm coming."
***
"I'll never understand why you're so into Quidditch, anyway," I say as we make our way across the grass to the pitch, leaving dark footprints in the dewy grass. The sun has barely risen over the lake, sparkling off the water, but we're the only ones still on our way. Everyone else is already seated in the stands or blissfully snoozing in bed without a care that Gryffindor is holding tryouts today. I think longingly of cozying up in my favorite common room armchair and practicing Atmospheric Charms for Flitwick and sigh.
"And I'll never understand why you're so opposed," Severus replies. He's got his school bag slung over his shoulder. I bet he's going to take notes on all the promising tryout candidates. He's a bit of a nerd like that. He's been obsessed with the sport since watching the first match our first year, though as far as I know, he's never tried out. He's pretty decent on a broom though, I do remember that from flying lessons.
We settle into the stands. Sure enough, as soon as we're situated, Sev pulls some parchment and a quill from his bag and starts scribbling away, eyes scanning all the students in the air. Now that we're out here, I can see that there's not nearly as many people as it had seemed in the Great Hall; the stands are barely a third full, and everyone who's chosen to be out here this morning perches mainly in the seating near the goal posts nearest the castle. That's where all the action is happening; Potter has all the Quidditch team hopefuls warming up. Most are flying practice laps, though a couple take some experimental swings with the Beaters' bats, and there's a small circle of fliers tossing the cherry red Quaffle back and forth. Potter surveys them all from where he hovers on his broom just above the goal posts.
The rest of the Marauders are seated not too far from Sev and me – far away enough that they won't bother us, but close enough that I can hear them when they laugh at a story Pettigrew is telling. Alice is sitting with them too, though Emmeline is missing; she's one of the lucky ones still snuggled up in bed.
"You don't have to sit with me," Severus mutters. He's caught me looking at the other Gryffindors, quill suspended over his notes.
"Of course I don't have to! But I want to." I nudge him lightly with my shoulder. "You're my friend too."
This doesn't make him smile, though, like I thought it would. Instead, he lays his quill down and looks at me. The sun reflects off his eyes, making them look flat and colorless. "And what do your other friends think of you hanging around me again?"
I shiver and pull my scarf closer around my neck and don't answer for too long. On the pitch, tryouts have begun. The first two Chaser prospects are in the air, showing off their Quaffle-handling abilities. Potter flies with them, calling instructions and plays.
Severus snorts and shifts away from me. "I see," he says.
"Well, can you blame them?" I ask. My voice sounds hard in the chilly morning air. Severus stiffens. "And what do your friends think of you hanging around me again?"
It's his turn to be silent for too long. The next round of Chasers mount their brooms, Marlene flying in this pair. She and Potter do their best to assist the third flier as they take off across the pitch, tossing the Quaffle around, but Merlin, he's bad, even my untrained eyes can tell that.
Finally, Severus speaks, his voice slow, his eyes still trained on the pitch. "They don't quite... understand... our relationship. Why I care to spend time with you."
"Of course they don't! I'm a Mudblood," I say bitterly. Severus flinches. "And they don't think anyone like me is worth any sort of time or space in the Wizarding world."
Severus opens his mouth but I shake my head at him. "No! You can't defend them! Rosier's said as much to my face. I know that's what they think. I don't understand how you can even hang around them."
And now I've gone and done it. Opened the can of worms that made fifth year rocky. We argued about this all the time back then. It's like no time has passed at all.
Severus looks pained. "Lily, why are we still discussing this? I've told you before, they're in my House with me. I go to class with them, most of us share a dormitory! I can't just not... associate with them."
"But it's more than that," I press. "You choose to spend time with them, even though you know they're... well, they're just Dark, Sev! You know I docked points from Slytherin just yesterday because Mulciber and Lestrange stole a first year's pet toad and were about to poison it? In front of her? What kind of sick game is that? And listen, Sev..." I lower my voice, even though no one's sitting near enough to hear, and stretch my hand out on the bleacher towards him for emphasis. "I'm worried about you. Dumbledore met with Potter and me, and I --"
But Severus isn't listening anymore. As soon as I mentioned Potter, his face, already tight and thin-lipped, twisted up in a sneer. "While we're lecturing each other about who we spend time with, why don't we address who you spend time with, too?"
"Excuse me?" I say, incredulous.
"Potter," he spits, and points out at the pitch for emphasis. The Chasers have finished and now the Keepers are taking turns at the goal posts, Potter, Marlene, and fourth year Enola Robins trying to score on them. "Don't come after Cyril and Rodolphus when you... you know very well what Potter is capable of!" He's practically purple, with embarrassment or rage, I'm not entirely sure.
"We literally had this same conversation like four days ago! Potter and I are not 'spending time together,' we're the Head students together! And he's my freaking tutor, for Merlin's sake! Plus, Potter and his friends' stupid pranks are hardly what I'd call Dark, it's not the same as what your Slytherin buddies get up to --"
"Well, I'd hardly call you the expert on being able to distinguish different types of magic, Lily," Severus says disdainfully. "You don't exactly have the background to know -"
I stand abruptly, so abruptly I feel the blood rush from my head, leaving me pale and with little dark spots speckling my vision. "I think I will go sit with my other friends after all. You know, the ones who don't care that I'm a Mudblood."
Severus looks ashen, chagrined. "No, wait, Lily, you know that's not --"
But I stomp away, up and over to where Alice is and plant myself firmly between her and Sirius Black.
"Evans!" Black says, thumping me on the shoulder. Remus and Pettigrew call out cheerful greetings too. "Look at you, out to support the team. Welcome!"
"Lily, what in the name of Merlin are you doing out here?" Alice looks me over and frowns at my expression. "And are you okay?"
"I don't want to talk about it," I mutter.
So we don't. Alice, Pettigrew, and Black keep up a running commentary during the remainder of tryouts, hotly debating which of the two Seekers will win the spot. Remus mostly reads his book, mainly here for moral support, and, I suspect, because his friends are here, though he has his own opinions about the Seeker. When none of them are focused on me, I sneak a look back at where Severus and I had been sitting, sure I'll find him scribbling away, just as wrapped up in Quidditch politics as these guys are, but instead, he's gone.
***
"What is happening?" Potter asks, looking up in alarm on Monday when I thump my school bag on the table next to his at the start of Potions class.
"I needed a change of scenery," I grumble, sliding into the chair. Severus isn't here yet, and sitting with Potter is the only sure-fire way to make sure he doesn't try to talk to me today. After what he said at Quidditch tryouts, I want nothing to do with him.
"Umm... okay," Potter says, clearing a space for me.
When Severus walks in, his eyes immediately find me sitting with Potter and his face falls. He shuffles over to our usual table, but today Rosier and Mulciber sit with him. I shift my chair deliberately so my back is to the three of them. Potter gives me the side-eye but says nothing.
When Slughorn's lecture is over and we set into our brew for the day (Memory Potions), Potter strikes up the conversation.
"So, how's it going?" he says, prodding the base of his cauldron with his wand to get the fire going.
"Oh, just peachy," I say, lighting my own cauldron with a sharp jab. The flames ignite all at once, jumping high to the mouth of the cauldron before retreating down to a more useable height.
He raises an eyebrow. "I'm not convinced."
I sigh, sifting through my Potions kit to pull out my powdered sage, peppermint sprigs, mandrake root, and eel eyes. "No, I'm fine, really. Just busy, you know?"
He sighs too. "Yes, I do know. Sirius was just bothering me last night about – er – something he wanted to do, but I feel like I barely have enough time to get to everything I need to, let alone anything extra."
"I imagine so. All these NEWT classes, Head duties, tutoring... and you're Quidditch Captain on top of that!" I shake my head. "Quite the resume. No wonder you and Black can't find more time to make mischief together."
Potter smirks. "I didn't say anything about making mischief. I don't know why you'd just presume that's what Sirius wanted..."
I shake my ladle at him, splattering little drops of gloopy green every which way. "I've shared a House with the lot of you for over six years now. I know exactly the kinds of activities you and Black like to get up to together."
Potter takes off his glasses to clean my potion off, laughing. "You got me," he says. "But we are very mischief-free as of late. Like I said, too busy." He looks very unguarded with his glasses off, his face open and more boyish somehow.
"Well, your Head Girl appreciates it," I say, dipping my ladle back into my potion to give it a stir. "And you know, I also appreciate your tutoring expertise, too."
"Oh really?"
"Yeah," I say.
"And why is that, exactly?" James carefully plucks the petals from a fistful of snowdrop, making a small white mound in his mortar bowl to grind down.
"I'm tutoring now too – third year Timothy Llewelyn, Ravenclaw? For Charms, obviously – and I took a page out of your book for our first session, just started with some basics to build his confidence, do some troubleshooting, you know? Worked like – well, worked like a charm."
James snorts.
"So thanks," I say. "Guess I have learned something from you already."
"More than just something," James says. "I noticed McGonagall didn't have anything to criticize you for in class last Friday."
"Only because we didn't have much time to practice, so she didn't get over to me before class ended," I say modestly, but it was true. For the first time maybe ever, I'd pulled off a Color-changing Spell without a hitch and finally got the raven I'd been working with to turn red without any casualties (the tabletop, my skin, other students' hair...).
"You've been practicing," he says.
"I have," I admit. "The drills you had me do last week have been... surprisingly helpful."
"Good." He smiles at me then, and I smile back, and the whole thing feels almost... friendly. How odd. Being friends with James Potter. Imagine.
But it's not hard to imagine as we spend the rest of Potions brewing side by side. When he goes to get the jobberknoll feathers from Slughorn, he brings some back for me, too. When I see he's short a scoop of sage, I offer him some of mine. He tells me about Quidditch tryouts and I share my latest experiment with a cleaning charm that'll keep Marlene from being able to dump her stuff on my bed. It's all surprisingly easy to be mates with James Potter when I'm not actively trying to hate him.
As we're packing up to leave, I notice Severus hovering at the door, watching Potter and me. I curse quietly. How in the name of Merlin did he get cleaned up so fast?
"What's up?" James asks, pausing in the middle of wiping down our table.
"Just... walk with me out the door, okay?" I say.
Potter glances at the door. His face hardens when he sees Sev. "Got it."
When we head out, Potter sticks close, putting himself in between Severus and me. This must be how Queen Elizabeth feels, with all her bodyguards, I think.
But Severus speaks around Potter anyways, ignoring him like he's not even there. "Lily, I need to talk to you."
"Not interested," I say, keeping my gaze fixed on the door. If I can just get out, I can sprint all the way up the three flights of stairs to Transfiguration...
"C'mon, Lily..." Sev reaches out to me, but Potter's there, getting right in his face.
"She said she doesn't want to talk to you, Snivellus. So back off."
Sev flushes but doesn't back down. I see his hand twitch toward his wand pocket.
"Let's just go." I mutter, yanking on Potter's arm. He reluctantly lets me drag him out the door and down the hall. I feel Severus watch us go until we're out of sight.
"Okay, but what's going on with the two of you?" Potter asks roughly as we climb the stairs, leaving the cool dimness of the dungeons below. It's a relief to emerge into a corridor lit cheerily with the golden glow of the many sconces on the walls. "I thought you guys were back to being... friends. Or whatever it is you are."
"We were. We are. Ugh, I don't know. We've been trying and it was working, it really was, but..." I trail off and shrug.
"Did something... happen? In particular?"
"Yes," I say.
"What?" he says sharply.
"It was Saturday morning. I was trying to talk to him about the library thing with all his Slytherin buddies, but he got all defensive and made some comment about me not knowing enough about magic –"
Potter grabs my arm and swings around to look me in the eye. His expression is stormy and his voice strains with anger. "He didn't call you – a – a..." He can't even finish.
"No, no," I shake my head emphatically. "No, he didn't call me that again." Potter relaxes, just the tiniest bit. But then I sigh. "But he almost might as well have. Just a heavy implication that my muggle background makes me inferior in some way." I shrug. "But what are you going to do? Just another day of being the muggle-born at a magic school." I laugh, but it sounds sad and not at all convincing. And then, to my horror, a tear slips out and courses down my cheek. I hurriedly wipe it away, but James notices. Obviously.
He clenches his jaw. "I'm going to kill him," he growls.
"Don't you dare," I say sharply, swiping my fingertips under my eyes to make sure no other traitorous tears make their way out. "I just – just want to forget this happened, okay? Clearly trying to be friends with Sev again this year was a bad idea, and there's no reason for you to get tangled up in all this."
Potter's still frowning down at me, and I can tell I haven't convinced him at all.
"I'm fine, really!" I insist. "See, look." I widen my eyes over-dramatically. "No more tears! Now let's get to Transfiguration before Professor McGonagall has to docks points from her own House because both her Heads are late."
"Fine," he says, a little grumbly, but he follows me to the Transfiguration classroom all the same.