Chasing Lily Evans

Just before the OWLs

"Lupin, you have got to help me," James groaned, breaking his quill into half. Sirius glared at him; it was a new quill and it was his. Remus rolled his eyes at James and concentrated on his History of Magic notes, which he had painstakingly asked Xenophilius Lovegood for ("You know, I don't really think this is what happened," he said seriously, "I think there was something about a gnome infestation that was covered up.... funny business."). "You should have studied instead of picking fights with Snape and his friends," Remus said indifferently, casually flipping a page. 

Peter was lying on the bed, four reference books of Transfiguration opened next to him and his bedsheets blotted with ink. His eyes were closed but his mouth was silently mumbling the incantations and complex spells they had learnt that year, because he knew McGonagall would be out for blood, especially his. Sirius, to everyone's surprise, was sitting calmly on the floor and twirling his wand, laughing at his friends. He had apparently completed the syllabus and was eerily quiet.  

"Here," Remus tossed a chocolate to James, "Eat. It'll help with the nerves." James took a huge bite of the chocolate, grinning happily and then his eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped onto the bed Remus was in. "James? Oi, James?" Sirius frantically shook his best friend, just as he gave a loud snore. "What'd you do to him?" Peter asked fearfully. Remus said while still reading his notes, "Nothing much, just a simple Sleeping Draught that should keep him down long enough for me to finish with my History of Magic notes." 

***

Severus was unhappy. Lily wasn't speaking to him; she didn't even meet his eyes! Though, it was sort of his fault, he thought guiltily. He felt bad about yelling at her in the Great Hall for hanging out with Lupin; he was probably the most bearable of the four. But he was still one of them, and that said a lot about him.

 Though he knew he was right about him being a dirty little werewolf, Lily didn't care or understand, but instead went on to get chummy with him. In his annoyance, he broke the tip of the quill he was writing with. That Black had sent him down the Whomping Willow to see the proof of his theory with his own eyes, at the cost of his life. Potter, the hero, had saved him just in time, perhaps to be spared of a death that would take quite some explaining. Just like he had to be the one to shoot every single goal in for Gryffindor, he had to be the eternal saviour so Severus would be indebted to him. On top of it all, he had now picked up a regular habit of hexing him from behind and embarrassing him in front his friends. Bella and Narcissa were getting much too smug about the fact, he thought, frowning. 

He shook off these thoughts and tried to concentrate on his Potions notes, reminding him with a pang of Lily. He would make up with her, he vowed, trying to ignore a part of himself that blamed her for everything wrong in his life. 

***

Lily felt uneasy; her notes were sprawled all over the common room, and though she had read and reread everything twice, there was something wrong she couldn't quite put her finger on. She rubbed her fevered eyes with her hands and closed the Defence Against the Dark Arts book with a sigh and closed her eyes. Suddenly, a series of loud thumps from the boys' dormitory awoke her and she looked towards it with a groan; it had to be Potter and those idiots, doing something stupid just before the exams. As she watched the stairwell with a frown, a groggy, sleepy boy with bloodshot eyes emerged, his hair stuck up on one side. 

"Hi," James said to her, his hands weakly trying to reach for his hair, his long, lean body collapsing into an armchair. Lily gave an irritated grunt and reopened her DADA textbook, trying to focus on the Bat Bogey Hex instead of him. "What're you studying?" he asked, peeking over her shoulder. "None of your business," she breathed, flipping a page with such passion that it promptly tore. James chuckled, "You don't study Defence, you have to DO it." Lily sighed indifferently and said without looking at him, "If you're talking about the practical, I've practiced loads of time and I'm not in the mood for show-offs, Potter, so leave me alone." James shrugged, "Fine. I could've helped you, though, I'm excellent at DADA." He ruffled his hair with an innocent smirk, noticing how the firelight affected her shimmery red hair, making it looking like liquid roses. Lily gave one last glance at her book and then threw it aside. "Show me then, Potter," she said, tired, as James' face stretched into a wide grin.