Monday morning I beat everyone to the Great Hall.
Literally everyone. I'm there when the House-elves unlock the doors and breakfast is only just starting to pop up across the House tables. I take a seat in front of a pot of oatmeal and dish myself a big bowl, but even after I add a bunch of brown sugar and raisins, it doesn't look very appetizing, and mostly I just stir it around with my spoon, watching the sugar slowly melt in caramel-colored streaks.
I worried over James for what felt like all night after talking to Carol, the questions spinning through the dark. What was I doing wrong? Why wouldn't he trust me?
Maybe, a little voice whispered, it's because you don't trust him.
The thought had me rolling over uncomfortably.
But by the time I woke Sunday morning, I wondered if there wasn't truth to it. I told him constantly I didn't trust him and had kept him at arm's length ever since we kissed. The last time we'd fought, hadn't all this been the problem? James accused me of not trusting him no matter what he did.
And I know he skipped our tutoring session, and is keeping secrets, and has been avoiding me recently, but...
Maybe I could try a little trust.
I don't know.
I just miss him.
So that was my plan, for Sunday at least: I wouldn't give him a hard time for bailing on me, he'd apologize, and we could have a make-up study session instead. I could try and trust him.
Except by the time I finally ran into James in the common room, it was already afternoon and he was heading out to Quidditch practice. I guess they don't waste a day. He hadn't been at breakfast – none of the Marauders had – and I skipped lunch for my Ancient Runes essay.
I was on the small sofa by the announcement board (located very near the portrait hole, no particular reason for sitting there, sometimes a witch just wants to see who's coming and going) when I finally saw him for the first time since the match. He looked considerably happier, like maybe Sirius had been right and he'd just needed a night to sulk it off. James saw me and waved on his way out, and I waved back, and then he was gone again.
Okay, no afternoon study session, then. There's still evening, I reasoned with myself. After dinner. We had time. Even though I finished my Transfiguration with Sev the night before, James could look it over and I could still help him with his Charms. It wasn't entirely a lost cause.
Except at dinner Sirius suggested a common room-wide Exploding Snap tournament after Remus, James, and I got back from prefect meeting, and James was trying to convince anyone to play as his partner.
"Sorry, mate. You're my best friend but I'm not letting you take me down again," Sirius said when James asked him.
James only looked put out for a moment before he glanced across the table at me. "Lily will be my partner then, won't you, Evans?"
I shook my head. "I still have homework to finish tonight." Trying to keep an accusing tone out of my voice (trust him, Lily, trust him), I added, "And what about you? Don't you have Charms work you need to do?"
"Charms?" said James, his forehead creasing. "No."
My stomach dropped, and that's when I knew.
He forgot.
"Oh, okay," I mumbled, dropping my gaze back to my meatloaf. I speared a bite with my fork. "Have fun, then."
He opened his mouth, maybe to try and persuade me more but Carol pushed her way in. "Heard Sirius say you still need a partner," she said.
"Yeah," he said. He glanced back at me. "But..."
I shook my head. "Have fun," I said again, and stood. "Maybe I'll catch the end of the tournament."
But I didn't. I stayed locked up tight in my dorm and fell asleep before anyone else came to bed.
***
"Happy Birthday Lily!"
I look up and smile tiredly. "Thanks guys."
They're all here at the Gryffindor table, interrupting my reverie: Alice and Marlene, yes, but also Sirius, Remus, Peter, and (my throat tightens) James. Even Emmeline's here, hovering at the edge of the small group like she's worried I'll make her leave if she's too obvious about it.
Alice plops down next to me and pushes a streusel muffin in front of my unappealing oatmeal. Sirius leans forward to stick a candle in but Marlene knocks his hand aside.
"Knowing you, she won't ever be able to blow that out."
"That or it would blow up in my face," I mutter. I know how partial the Marauders are to explosions.
"On Evans's birthday? Me? Never." But the wicked grin and subsequent wink to Remus and Peter do nothing to reassure me.
"Knock it off, Padfoot," James says, but he's grinning too. He leans forward to stick his own candle in. Marlene eyes it warily but I guess she trusts James enough to not blow up my breakfast. "Happy Birthday, Lily."
"Thanks," I say again, and this time I give more of an effort to look excited. It's just that I've never much got worked up about my birthday – January birthdays are grey and anti-climatic after the holidays, and mine's on Monday this year, so that's like double depressing – and I'm just down after James blew me off two days in a row, one of those times to play Exploding Snap with Carol.
But the birthday muffin is nice and I cover my face in pleased embarrassment when they all sing and make me blow out the candle, which thankfully goes out like it's supposed to, though James and Sirius do indeed end the whole thing with a few minor crimson and gold explosions from their wands.
"Knock it off before Professor McGonagall comes over here," I reprimand, but I appreciate the gesture.
And the day continues to be nice. James doesn't give me a hard time when Severus waves me over to sit with him in Potions, and at the end of class Sev presents me with a small wrapped gift.
"Happy Birthday, Lily," he says.
"You didn't have to get me anything, Sev, you know how I feel about my birthday."
"Just open it," he says.
I laugh when I see what's inside. It's a replica of the little coin pouch we've been using all year to pass notes back and forth, only newer and shinier and with my initials stitched in brilliant green on the front: LJE. I run my fingertip over the letters.
"It matches your eyes," Sev murmurs.
I look up at him and he holds my gaze. My skin prickles under his intensity. After a moment he clears his throat and goes on.
"It's charmed to link with mine." He reaches inside to pull out one of the memories we'd written for Sev's pouch. "Figured I didn't need to keep the happy memories all to myself."
I smile. The thoughtfulness of the gift pushes my moment of unease aside, and I wrap my arms around him. "It's perfect. Thank you."
He stiffens. Then, almost hesitantly, he raises his arms to hug me back. "You're welcome," he says, and when I step back, his normally pale face is red but pleased.
Transfiguration starts out alright too; we get our latest homework back and I've scraped another E. I don't think I'll ever stop getting that disbelieving feeling when I see a passing mark at the top of my Transfiguration work.
But halfway through today's lesson, I am lost. And seriously doubting the next mark I'll earn. I'd felt pretty alright on that Animagus essay this weekend but all the mumbo-jumbo McGonagall's spouting has me questioning if I even read the right pages for the homework. Moth chrysalis? Moon-struck phial? What is she even talking about?
"Miss Evans, tell me the four major complications of the final step," Professor McGonagall says, and I bite my lip.
"I..." Next to me, Marlene raises her eyebrows and James turns around with an encouraging nod, but Merlin knows neither of them are actually helpful. "I don't know, Professor," I mumble.
"Hmm," she says, giving me a stern look before calling on Peter instead. Peter's near the bottom of the class with marks like mine, but even he easily reels off the answer. I slump my chin onto my hand in shame. And frustration. James has turned back around so I'm free to glare at the back of his head. This is all his fault. If he'd just showed up on Saturday for our study session like he was supposed to, I would have been fine. I would have known the answer and been spared the humiliation of being academically bested by Peter.
"What should we do tonight to celebrate?" Marlene asks over turkey sandwiches and crisps for lunch. "I know for a fact James and Sirius could smuggle up cake and Butterbeer to the common room if we wanted. Think, Lily! We could throw a huge party! It'd be great."
"Have you forgotten who you're talking to?" I ask her. "Since when do I want a big common room party? Professor McGonagall would be so mad. And besides, you all just had a party last night,"
"That wasn't a party," Marlene groans. "That was like ten of us playing a card game. Really, Lil, if that's what you call a party..."
"It sounds like a party enough to me," I say. "But that's beside the point. I still don't want a party tonight. It's a school night and I don't want anyone making a big deal of it anyways. Breakfast was perfect. "
"Fine," Marlene grumps.
After lunch we go our separate ways, Marlene with a free period then Muggle Studies and me to Ancient Runes and then History of Magic with Alice. Ancient Runes is actually fun, but afterwards I try not to feel too depressed I have to spend a couple hours of my birthday listening to Professor Binns monotone on. It's better than spending more time in Transfiguration, though, I suppose.
However, I've barely had enough time to slip into the stupor Binns's voice blankets over the class before the door flies open.
Well, actually, it just opens normally, but in the sleepiness of the room the door might as well be a cannon firing. Everyone whips around.
"Professor Binns?"
At the table next to mine, Peter perks up and nudges Remus excitedly, because standing in the doorway is James.
Binns blinks up blearily from his notes, frowning in vague puzzlement. "What is it, Patterson?" He looks around. "Are you in this class?"
"No, Professor," James says. He sounds respectful, but the faint dimple in his cheek betrays he's biting back a smirk; James hasn't had History of Magic since fifth year.
"Of course not..." Professor Binns trails off, still frowning like he can't possibly fathom what James is doing in his classroom.
Peter drums his fingers against his desk, eyes locked on James, and I know he's sure James is here to break him out of class. Remus too, though Remus looks more confused than anticipatory.
But to my surprise, James ignores them both.
"Professor, I was wondering if I could borrow Lily for the class period?"
I start, and Alice glances at me curiously. I shrug in response. Peter whips around to stare at me, looking extremely put-out.
"Lily...?" Professor Binns asks. His gaze drifts blankly over all of us seated at our desks.
"Evans," James says. He points. "Right there."
Binns follows his direction to settle his frown on me. I wave half-heartedly. "Evans," he repeats, and I think it might be the first time he's said my name properly. "But whatever for?" He looks down at his notes. "She really shouldn't miss this. We're about to go over the disbanding of the Wizard Council-"
"--in 1707?" James breaks in. Now he can't hold back his grin. "Don't worry, I've got Lily covered, I'm surprisingly well-informed on the topic."
Professor Binns still looks perplexed, and I'm similarly confused as to what's going on myself.
"Please, Professor?" James says. "It's an emergency. Of course I wouldn't have Lily miss your class, but we have Head Boy and Girl responsibilities, you understand."
Binns sighs, and from his ghostly form it's like an icy exhale sweeping around the room. "Very well," he says finally, waving us off. "Now where were we? Ah yes..."
James raises his eyebrows at me and cocks his head towards the door as Professor Binns settles back into his dry rhythm.
"I... guess I'll see you later," I mutter to Alice as I rise out of my seat, taking my bag with me.
Peter gives me a very disgruntled look as I pass him and Remus, but I just shrug. It's not my fault we have Head duties that don't include them, and I try to decide what the emergency might be. Maybe Professor Dumbledore needs to talk to us. But what would be so pressing that he couldn't wait until after we were done with classes? It couldn't be... my insides freeze. It wasn't something with Mum and Dad or Petunia, was it? Shoot, shoot, shoot....
James holds the door for me while I file out. The second it shuts behind him, I turn and ask all in a panic, "What's the emergency? Is it news from Dumbledore? Is everyone alright?"
"Whoa, Lily, calm down. No emergency."
"No–no emergency?"
He shakes his head, smiling. "Nope. But it is your birthday, and we need to properly celebrate."
I stare at him in disbelief, and then I hit him on the arm. Hard.
"Ouch!" he complains. He rubs at the sore spot. "What was that for?"
"You idiot!" I whisper-shout (I'm at least level-headed enough to remember to keep my voice down so we don't interrupt all the classes going on). "You had me panicking!"
"Sorry!" he says quickly. "I just thought we could do something fun for your birthday, just the two of us, that's all. And I wanted to surprise you."
"Oh," I say. And for a moment, that's all I know to say. I'm still so hurt he forgot our study session over the weekend, and yet when I look at him, all keen and hopeful and handsome, here for me, I can't help it. "Wow. Okay. And, um... sorry about your arm," I say awkwardly.
"It's fine," he says, and his face relaxes so easily back into a grin it's like that's his most natural expression. "I'm just relieved you're not more upset I'm getting you to skive again."
Oh, right. "Potter," I say sharply, but James just beams, all awkwardness melting completely away.
"You know, is it funny I was kind of starting to miss that?"
I roll my eyes as we start walking.
"And in any case, I learned that 'Head duties' trick from you," James continues. "You pulled it the first day back after Christmas, remember?"
I frown. That doesn't sound like me.
He laughs. "To get out of trouble for almost being late to Defense. When you were avoiding me."
Oh, Merlin. That I did. "That was... different," I say delicately.
"Sure it was," he says.
"Wait, where are we going?" I ask, slowing my pace and looking around. I haven't really been paying attention to where he's been leading us, but I assumed we would head to the common room, or maybe the kitchens. Somewhere out of the way so none of the professors would question why we were out of class. But instead we've made our way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts wing on the third floor. I can't think of anything over here that would be of interest, and there's plenty of staff about to direct us back to class. "Aren't we going to the common room or something?"
James, however, strides ahead. He glances back at me, one eyebrow raised. "The common room? Really, Evans. It's your birthday. We're not just going to go to the common room. No, we're going somewhere special." He stops at the statue of the one-eyed witch right next to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Professor Jarvis's voice pipes from behind the closed door, lecturing her class on battling lethifolds, and I realize there must be another NEWT level class in there. I eye the door warily.
James pulls out his wand and circles around the back of the statue. He taps the crone's hump and mutters, "Dissendium." Then he pops his head back around. "C'mon, Lily," he stage-whispers. His eyes gleam.
I glance around to make sure one last time we really are alone and then I join him behind the statue.
"What the actual–" I start in alarm when I see what he's done, but James shushes me.
"Let's be quick. I promise I'll explain at the bottom." He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear (properly setting my insides aflutter in the process) and then he climbs into the passage he opened up in the statue and disappears down the stone slide into the dark.
I look around again. The corridor remains empty. I can still hear Professor Jarvis in her classroom. This is breaking so many rules. I'm not even sure what's waiting at the bottom of the slope, but I know it's so not allowed.
But...
James is down there, too.
James, who wants to celebrate my birthday. Alone. Just the two of us. Somewhere special.
And so, even though he skipped our study date this weekend – completely forgot about it, actually – I really don't have any choice but to follow him down.
***
"I wasn't sure you were going to come," James says, helping me to my feet when I reach the bottom of the slide.
"I considered it," I mutter, dusting my skirt off and straightening it out. I look around, but the tunnel is dark, the only light from James's lit wand. "Where are we going, anyway?"
"You'll see," he says. The glow catches the curve of his smile.
"This is so not allowed," I say anxiously as we start down the passageway. It's so narrow we have to go single-file, and I let James lead the way. I keep glancing back over my shoulder, watching the stone slide slip into darkness and debating if I should sprint back.
"Not even a little," James says cheerfully. He turns and must see how worried I look, because he goes on. "It's going to be fine, Lily. I've done this loads of times and never got caught."
"That's hardly reassuring," I say.
"I promise you're fine. You're with me." He reaches back with his free hand and takes mine.
It's that action that breaks the last of my reservations. His grip is tight and reassuring, and the fact that he reached for me at all suddenly makes me want to cry.
Maybe he has missed me, too.
Thank Merlin it's dark down here.
"You think you're invincible, don't you?" I say in effort to lighten the mood.
He squeezes my hand. "Aren't I?"
I laugh, and the sound echoes in the tight tunnel. "Alright then, Potter. Lead on."
***
James drops my hand when we get to the stairs. We've been pushing through the darkness for nearly a half hour, but the time has gone surprisingly quick. The low visibility made things oddly at ease between us, and we bantered back and forth about classes, his obsessive Quidditch regimen, and my continued unsuccessful attempts to get him to join Slug Club with me. It's so wonderfully normal and easy that already I'm wondering what I've been so worried about the last couple of weeks. Of course we're fine. Of course he still likes me. According to Alice, Marlene, and Emmeline, he's liked me for ages. A few hiccups in the last month aren't going to just erase that.
Were they?
The stairs go up forever, but finally James halts. "Quiet," he instructs. "Let me check we're clear."
"Check...?" I say, but James cautiously raises the trapdoor to peer out.
I try to see around him, but all I see are some crates and a clean stone floor.
"Okay," James whispers. "We should be good. Hurry for the stairs and don't stop till we're up top."
"Up top where?" I say, but James darts out before answering and I haul myself out after him. We scramble up the steps. I'm too focused on following his instructions to take in anything around me until we've reached the top and James stops and I crash into him. He steadies me.
"Careful there," James says in a normal voice. His grin is back. "We're good now."
But I barely hear him because I'm staring around wide-eyed at the bins and barrels of sweets lining the walls, stacked tight on shelves and behind glass cases. My gaze shifts to the wide windows and the cobblestone street beyond, and I say, "Are we in Hogsmeade?"
"Happy Birthday, Lily," James says. "Congratulations on your first out-of-bounds trip."
"Oh my gosh," I say. I don't know where I was expecting us to end up, but it wasn't this. I blink rapidly. "We're in Hogsmeade."
"I can't tell if you're going to freak out or not," he says.
I take it all in. The store is almost entirely empty, since it's not a Hogsmeade day for students, and it's comfortably quiet. The witch behind the counter bustles around stretching taffy and mixing something bubbly and sweet smelling. Tiny snowflakes fall past the window and the ice on the ground sparkles. I think how the other shops must be similarly peaceful on this chilly Monday afternoon. I could peruse the bookshelves at Tomes and Scrolls at a leisurely pace for once.
James watches me, and he's still smiling, but there's a nervous note to it, like part of him is bracing for me to lecture him or have that freak out he mentioned. He runs a hand over the back of his head, and how could I be anything but excited?
We're here together.
Finally.
I grin. "This is a great surprise."
His hand drops and he looks relieved. "C'mon," he says. "Where first?"
We spend the next little while in Honeydukes restocking our favorite treats. James slips a tin of treacle fudge into my load. "You forgot this," he says.
"How did you know?" I ask, startled.
"Please," he says. "You think I don't pay attention to anything at all."
"Well in that case..." I say, and I hand him a package of sugar quills. The number of them I see him go through during classes... "I bet you're about out of these."
He laughs. I've surprised him. "You're right," he says, taking it. "Thanks."
Afterwards, we head outside. It's cold and neither of us brought our cloaks – I mean, I hardly haul it from class to class, and I didn't know I'd be leaving the castle today – so we huddle together as we run down the road, laughing when the wind whips the whisper-light snow into our faces. "There," I point breathlessly and James says, "I should have known."
We duck into Tomes and Scrolls and I blow on my fingers to bring them up to room temperature. The warm air stings, but in a nice way, like how a too-hot shower feels.
"I guess I could have prepared better," James says ruefully, glancing back out the door.
"Yeah, a heads up for next time would be nice," I say.
"Next time?" he asks, grinning.
Oh, Merlin. I turn and busy myself with the nearest bookshelf.
James lounges against the end of a shelf while I go up and down each row, taking my time with all the books. It's never so empty in here that I get to stand in front of the Charms shelves as long as I want, opening books and reading them right there in the aisles. I get so caught up in Quintessence: A Quest that by the time I snap it shut James has disappeared. I tuck the book under my arm (I've spent so long reading I'd feel guilty not buying it) and go in search of him. I find him at the back of the store buried in a book three times the size of mine.
"What's this?" I ask, tapping the cover up so I can read. "Is this... a compilation of Transfiguration Today articles?" I peer closer. "From the last five hundred years?" I giggle. "My goodness, Potter, you're just as bookish as I am."
"Don't you dare," he says, closing the book all the way. "I had to pass the time somehow. Who knew when you were going to resurface from all your browsing?"
"Your secret's safe with me, don't you worry," I reassure him. "And we're good to go now." I wave my book in his face.
He snatches it out of my hands and looks at it. When he looks back at me, he's smirking. "Who's bookish now?" He takes it up to the front.
"What are you doing?" I ask. I step up to the counter with him.
He ignores me. "Just this," he says to the person behind the desk.
"James," I protest, but he's already handed over the money. He gives me back my book and I tuck it into my bag of Honeydukes treats.
"It's your birthday," he says. "Let me celebrate."
"We already are celebrating," I say.
"Then let's keep it up, yeah?"
We visit J. Pippen's Potions next, which James endures in a long-suffering kind of way. He shifts restlessly while I browse ingredients, wishing I had my potions kit on hand to top off a bunch of my supplies. While I'm sifting through a table of discounted surplus, he comes up behind me and starts fiddling with my hair.
I still. He's only touching my hair, but I feel his touch tingle in my scalp, down my neck, flush my whole torso with warmth.
The handholding in the passageway and the huddling as we hurried through the streets I could pass off as circumstantial things, almost accidental. Casual contact. Inconsequential.
This, though?
Very deliberate.
I can't reason this away. And I can't ignore how nice it feels. I've missed him more these last few weeks than I ever expected to, and it's right here I realize how badly I want this. Him. Us. I swallow and try to focus on the ashwinder eggs I'd been examining (they really are a great price) but it's extremely difficult as his fingers comb through the ends of my hair. The back of his hand brushes my shoulder blade, and yeah, I really can't concentrate.
I set down the silver egg and turn around.
"Hey there," he says, smiling.
He's closer than I realized he'd be. He's only a couple inches taller than I am, too. It would not be difficult for me to kiss him. Right here, in the potion supply store.
"You ought to be more into this stuff with what your parents do," I say. My heart stutters in my throat, and it quivers my voice.
"Oh, I'm very into this," he says, too innocently.
I sway forward but at the last moment I look away. I can't do it. It's so unlike me, and there's the shopkeeper in here, anyways. Like he needs a couple of teenagers snogging in his store. "Let's find you something to do," I say, and drag him next door to Zonko's before he gets any ideas. Or before I say or do something even stupider.
"Hungry?" he asks when we leave a while later. The joke shop had been a nice distraction, giving me a moment to catch my breath in the corner and reign my poor confused heart back under control.
"Yeah, actually." I check my watch and am surprised at the time. It's after six. History of Magic had been my last class of the day, but I still feel a twinge of guilt for how long we've been gone, guilt that's quickly crushed when James grabs my hand and tugs me towards food.
The wind let up while we were in Zonko's but the air still bites cold through my jumper. James leads the way toward the square where most of the food is.
A luridly pink building looms ahead and I skid to a halt. Madame Puddifoot's scrawls across the frilly awning in elaborate script.
"We are not going there," I say.
"Oh, thank Merlin," James says, looking relieved. "I cannot stand that place. Carol always –" But he breaks off, awkwardly scrubbing a hand in his hair.
I wince. Nothing like the ghost of girlfriend past to kill the mood on a date. "Three Broomsticks?" I say lightly, brushing over the moment.
"Definitely," he says.
We order dinner and find a table. Now that it's evening, there are more people about, but it still feels nothing like a Hogsmeade day because the crowd consists of grown witches and wizards coming off of work days. I feel like a little kid who's only just gotten away sitting at the grown up table. James opens a box of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and we pass them back and forth while we wait. It should feel momentous that we're here having dinner alone in a pub on a weeknight but it doesn't. The Carol name drop outside expands the space between us.
Until recently, I'd never given their relationship much thought beyond that it had happened. But I'm suddenly realizing there were months when they were together, months for them to sneak away on Hogsmeade trips just like this one, months for them to hold hands and kiss and...
I didn't realize I could be so jealous.
And what had Carol said on Saturday? 'You know how he is. This is just routine'? Like she was in on the secret. Like she knew where he would be.
Why would James tell her and not me?
What could be so important he'd forget about me entirely?
"Where are you at?" James asks after we've been eating quietly for a while.
"Just... thinking about schoolwork," I say lamely. I can hardly tell him what I'm actually thinking.
"Of course," he says. "You get that assignment finished up? I missed you at our game night."
"Barely," I say. "You know how rubbish I am at Transfiguration." I push some potatoes around on my plate. "Your help would have been nice."
There's a long beat of silence and when I look up, James is staring at me with an open mouth, his fork hanging forgotten halfway between his plate and his face.
"I forgot," he says.
"Yeah," I say. "You did."
He sets his fork down. "I am the worst," he says. "Lily, I'm so sorry."
I drop my gaze back to my food. "It's fine," I say.
"It's not," he says. There's another pause, and he groans. "I can't believe I forgot."
"Suppose you had better things to do," I say, still not looking at him.
"You know that's not the case," he says. "You know of course I'd want to spend time with you."
There it is again. Just like the hair thing in the potions store, pretty solid evidence we're on the same page. But then why does it all still feel so bloody complicated? "Do I?" I say softly.
"Don't you?" he asks. He reaches a hand across the table, but I pull mine into my lap. He freezes then draws back. "How do I make this better?"
He looks like he means it. "Just tell me where you were," I say. "Then I can decide for myself if it's forgivable you bailed and left me to flounder through my Transfiguration homework alone." Well, not alone. I'd had Severus, but James doesn't need to know that.
He groans again. "Lily, you know I can't tell you that."
"But why not? I don't need every little detail. But James, come on. Give me something. You snubbed me all weekend long."
He leans back in his chair. His hand goes to his hair. "Fine. Fine. I was... I was with Sirius, Remus, and Peter," he says.
I scoff. "That isn't telling me anything. I already knew that."
"That's all I can tell you. Please, Lily, don't push this."
"How much did Carol have to push before you told her?" I say. "Or were you open with her right from the start?"
"I didn't tell her anything," he says quietly. "Not about where I was on Saturday."
"But she knows."
He doesn't say anything, and the silence is confirmation enough.
I sigh and check the time again. It's after seven and by the time we get back up to the castle I'll barely have enough time for my homework. "I'm ready to go," I say.
"Lily..."
I stand up. "I've got homework."
"I could help," he offers weakly, also getting up.
I grimace. "I don't think so."
He scrubs the back of his head. "No, I suppose not."
Outside it's dark, and the temperature must have dropped a full ten degrees while we ate, but we hurry down the cobblestones with a good three feet of space between us. My heart twists remembering how he'd tugged me along by the hand just an hour earlier on our way to dinner. Now I've gone and ruined it.
No. He ruined it.
Agh. I don't know. All I do know is that I wish we could go back to the happier afternoon. So bloody complicated...
We sneak back into Honeydukes just as the owners are closing up. Down to the cellar, down through the trap door. A long, dark, and silent tunnel, and then we're back in the castle and I breathe a sigh of relief. James gives me a sidelong look but still says nothing.
When we reach the main staircase, I stop and so does he.
"Thanks for today," I say after a long beat. "I... had a good time."
"Sure," he says, his hands thrust in his pockets.
"I really did," I insist.
"Okay."
There's another long silence.
"I'm going to the library," I say finally.
"Okay," he says again. He doesn't offer to come with me and I suppose it's good he listened to me in Three Broomsticks, but I wish he'd ask one more time. I might even let him come if he did. But his hands stay shoved tightly away and he watches me with an inscrutable expression.
"Okay," I say back, and take the first step down the stairs.
"Lily?"
"Yeah?" I turn around, hope flaring.
His hand threads through his hair and his jaw works indecisively for a moment. "Nothing," he says finally. "Just... happy birthday." And without another word, he takes the stairs up away from me, two at a time, not looking back.
***
Dear Lily,
Happy Birthday sweetheart! I hope you pulled yourself away from your studies long enough to celebrate. You deserve it today.
Eighteen! What a big year. You're all grown up now. And yes, I know seventeen is of age in the Wizarding World, but you'll have to forgive your mother's Muggle brain for thinking of now as when you officially become an adult. Somehow, when I wasn't looking – probably in all those months you spend away from me at that school – you've grown into this wonderfully competent, incredible young woman. I wish so much you were home with your dad and me today. We'd make a treacle tart instead of birthday cake and eat it for breakfast like we used to do when you were small, and spend the evening snuggled up watching the snow fall and reading by the fire.
But deep down I know you're where you should be. I'm SO incredibly proud of you for all that you've accomplished and all that you strive to do and become, but mostly I'm proud of who you are. You are brave, you have a strong sense of right and wrong, and you aren't afraid to stand up for what you believe to be right and defend those you love. It's because of who you are that Professor Dumbledore chose you for Head Girl and trusts you with so much. It's because of who you are that you've been such a good friend to Severus, and been able to get along with James this year, and, of course, it's because of who you are that you protected Petunia's wedding from tragedy. And while all these things cause your poor mum so much worry, I respect and admire your choices. You're a Gryffindor through and through.
Finally — and I do hate to end your birthday letter on a negative note, but I thought you should know — something odd happened with Petunia this week. She's okay, but it so easily could have gone a different way. She was feeling a bit under the weather on Tuesday and left work early. She'd only just crossed the street when an earthquake struck. It took down her whole work building and she got a pretty good cut to her leg and had to get stitches. She was quite shaken up, but you know Petunia – nothing's going to derail her life if she can help it, and she's already back on the job hunt. You two are both so headstrong that way. Perhaps you could reach out to her to let her know you're thinking of her.
I'm sure I'm reading far too much into it, accidents do happen all the time, but do you think this could have anything to do with the Death Eaters? It was such a concentrated area for an earthquake, just a block or two affected...
It's probably nothing. Like I said, just thought you'd like to know.
Anyways, happy birthday dear. Go have fun. Let your friends spoil you. Tell James hi.
Love your proud, sentimental mother,
Mum