Lily Evans and the Marauder's Secrets

Distance, Questions, and Chaos

Author's Note: Read [bracketed text] as struck through.

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But it rapidly becomes clear there is not time for James and I to talk later. What exactly kept us apart I couldn't say, but it was suddenly impossible to find a minute with just the two of us.

I mean, I still see him everywhere – so many classes, prefect meetings, Defense Association, in the common room, at meals – but it's never just us. And I think it'd be odd to slide next to him in Charms and be like, "So, James, I know we had that tiff in the corridor the other day, but I just wanted to clear the air, let you know I still fancy you, and, um, do you also still fancy me too?"

Yep, nothing weird about that at all. So it's pretty obvious why I don't do that.

But all the extra time we might have spent together, the time we were spending together before, has evaporated. I can't believe how much the removal of tutoring has completely erased our one-on-one time together.

Because Professor McGonagall well and truly clears me of all tutoring requirements when I get my results back the Monday following the exam. I know she'd prepped me for it, but it's still an absolute shock and relief to see the small red E inked at the top of the parchment. And the comment written at the bottom:

Practical exam results: Exceptional. Your improvement in your spellwork is commendable.

At lunch after class I'm brave and push between Sirius and James.

"Excuse you," Sirius says, but I ignore him to slide my exam in front of James.

"An E," he says, picking it up and reading it over. "Nice job, Lily. I told you you'd be fine."

"Thanks," I say, taking it back to tuck carefully into my bag. Usually I shove returned work in there to be unearthed in sad, crumpled heaps later, but I would hang this exam up by my bed and never take it down. I think it's the best thing I've ever done. "How'd you do?"

"I did fine," he says.

Sirius snorts from my other side. "He's being weirdly modest. He got an O."

"With bonus points," pipes Peter.

"Bonus points? Professor McGonagall gives bonus points?" I ask, incredulous. I've never heard of this.

"Only if you're Prongs," Sirius says, and James rolls his eyes but doesn't argue.

But I'm only envious for a moment. A pass is a pass, and like I said, this exam is the best thing I've ever done in Transfiguration.

"Well then it's a good thing he's been my tutor," I say.

James smiles.

"Guess so," Sirius says. "Anyways, nice having you here, Evans, but we've got to run. You all ready?" he says to the other boys, and they all nod and get to their feet.

"See you around," Sirius calls as they leave.

I watch as they walk away, trying not to feel offended and like James was kind of avoiding me.

But the fact remains that over the next few weeks, I wonder if James really is avoiding me.

I mean, not like the level of avoidance I'm capable of. Obviously not. And we're definitely still friends. It isn't uncomfortable for us to eat meals together or sit together in class or even do homework at the same table in the common room, but suddenly he has a million other things to do that don't include me at all. If he isn't being a dutiful Head Boy attending prefect meetings, going on rounds, and holding practices with our group for Professor Dumbledore, he's dashing off to Quidditch practice, or tutoring, or getting into trouble with his mates (there's a definite uptick in the getting into trouble with his mates lately).