Proving Me Wrong

PROVING ME WRONG

LAST CHAPTER:-

Potter had always hated her, and she had always hated him.

But why then, why did it feel different this time?

Right then Lily made a new vow, to never find out.

CHAPTER 9

"Blood"

"Occulus reparo."

James Potter closed his eyes as shards of glass flew back into the frames of his glasses, mending them. He was leaning against his bedroom door, panting and drenched with sweat.

He held his breath for a moment, listening for any sound coming from the common room below. There was silence.

I think I scared her, James thought savagely, good.

The room was dimly lit, and the candles caused sinister shadows to flicker on the stone walls. He ran his fingers through his hair, but pulled his hand away when he realised it was glistening with blood.

James was reminded of something a certain Slytherin had said to him, after he had left dinner early that day.

"We're the same, you and me, Potter. Both pure in blood, both wealthy, both powerful. We're cut from the same cloth."

The messy-haired boy slid down to the floor, holding his right hand in front of his eyes. James stretched his fingers so the light shone onto the deep red hue that was now dribbling down his wrist and lower arm.

As he sat there, James wondered if the blood flowing through his veins really was the same as the blood flowing through the veins of- Severus Snape.

Most people think so, James thought, just because it's 'pure.'

But did James think that he and Snape were the same?

He knew the answer immediately.

Hell no.

Another question popped into James's head a moment later.

Did he think that he was better than others because of his blood?

Did he believe he was better than people of Muggle heritage, people like- Evans?

James also knew the answer to this question straightaway.

"No."

He murmured it with a bitter tone, feeling sick that anyone could ever think otherwise.

But people do think otherwise, James admitted.

This thought reminded James of something else that Snape had said to him just over an hour ago, when he had been walking in a haze along the charms corridor.

Why was he walking along in a haze, you ask?

Well, to be blunt; it's not everyday that James Potter apologises to someone, flushes, and stutters, all in quick succession. In fact, that has never happened before in James's six years at Hogwarts. It's no wonder why some people were shocked.

Even hours later, James was still cringing at his behaviour in the Great Hall.

He had almost forgotten what Snape had said to him. No, wait, that's a lie. James knew he hadn't needed reminding of what Snape had said; if he was honest...

He didn't think he would ever forget it.

-F-L-A-S-H-B-A-C-K-

Snape continued in his usual silky tone, "It's disgusting to see mudbloods in high-ranking ministry positions nowadays, becoming healers, aurors, professors and-," with a sly glance in James's direction he added,

"Head girls."

James's jaw clenched but he kept his expression blank. What was Snape getting at? Surely he didn't think James was into that Pureblood mania after six years? Did Snape think that's why he hated Evans?

Snape continued on, hoping to get a reaction from the Gryffindor.

"I'm sure it sickens you to your stomach to have to share power with that muggle, and having to sleep in the same tower with her as well. If it were me I'd have complained to the Board of Governors as soon as I'd found out."

James's eyes flashed, and Severus smirked.

"But- maybe you like having her around...," he said slowly and deliberately, as though thinking it through, "for- other purposes?" he added delicately.

James took off his glasses, and started to wipe them with the sleeve of his robes; seemingly unfazed by Snape's insinuation, but actually focusing all of his energy on ignoring the Slytherin's taunts.

"Yes, that's it. I won't deny that she's attractive, but even so, I would never sink so low as to sleep with a mudblood."

At this James's glasses shattered in his hands; slivers burying themselves deep into the skin, slicing his flesh.

Was Snape accusing him of carrying on with Evans? Lily Evans?

'There only is one muggleborn, Head girl called Evans you know," said the intelligent part of his brain.

Is Snape mad? Does he have a death wish?

He must if he's saying that to my face, James thought seriously.

James closed his fist tighter around the shards of glass and metal wiring, hiding his injury from the other boy's view.

James turned to face Snape, who had a malicious grin on his face.

"But it seems, Potter, that is the one area we are different." He took a step towards James, trying to discern some sign that he was getting close to something, but the Gryffindor's expression was unreadable.

"You're talking bollocks, Snivellus, and you know it," said James through gritted teeth, trying very hard to keep his face impassive.

"Maybe you like it filthy, Potter, eh?" proceeded Snape, thoroughly enjoying himself now.

James could feel a pounding in his ears, and started to crack his knuckles just to have something to do with his hands.

"And you have to admit, Evans is as filthy as they co-"

James's fist had smashed into the Slytherin's jaw before he could finish the sentence.

The force of the blow knocked him backwards into the wall with a sickening crunch.

James grabbed Snape by the collar of his robes and threw him up against the wall a second time.

"Who's the real filth in this school, Snape?" James spat, as he pinned Snape against the stone.

Snape then pulled out his wand with lightning speed, and muttered a curse under his breath. His collar was ripped by the spell, as well as James's robes, releasing Snape from James's grasp, so he landed in a heap on the floor.

The messy haired boy stood above the Slytherin, towering with rage, his blood boiling.

After James made no move to continue the assault, Snape closed his eyes and began to laugh in a horrible, sardonic way. It was quite unnerving for the Gryffindor to watch the pale faced boy laughing like this, while blood was trickling down his forehead with increasing speed.

As Snape's chuckle rang in James's ears, he realised that he wasn't actually that angry at Snape for saying he had bedded Evans. Sure, it pissed him off that Snape could even think he fancied Evans, but he wasn't angry enough to start duelling, muggle-style.

All James knew was that somewhere between drawing back his fist, and actually punching Snape; his motives had changed. Drastically.

James started to sprint towards his common room more confused than ever. He just wanted to put as much distance between himself and Snape as possible, before he did any more damage and got into serious trouble.

When he was alone, Snape heaved himself off the ground and brushed off his robes. He strolled away from the Charms Corridor holding his head unusually high, too high for someone who just got the crap kicked out of them.

But maybe the reason why Snape was in such a good mood was this:

As he walked down towards the dungeons with a smirk on his face, Severus Snape couldn't help thinking,

"Bull's-eye."

James however, was feeling slightly less pleased with himself. Running to his dorm, various thoughts raced through his mind, too many to keep track of.

Why did I apologise to someone today?

Why am I punching Snape in the face over practically nothing?

Why did he make me so angry?

Why were Remus and Sirius looking at me strangely?

Why did McGonagall want to know if I looked for her or not?

Why did I have to open that bathroom door last night?

Why did I follow her?

Why do I care?

But before he arrived at the portrait leading to his dorm, James had reached a conclusion.

Evans

Its Evans fault I'm acting different, making a fool out of myself, stuttering for Merlin's sake! I want to go back to the way I was.

She's to blame, she's ruined everything, and if I never see her again it'll be too soon.

As soon as he clambered through the portrait hole, however, he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.

He had been so angry at her... and afraid of her at the same time. Afraid of what she had done to him.

"You. Evans. Stay the hell away from me."

He turned and stamped up the stairs to his room. At the top, he kicked his door open and called down in a dangerous voice,

"I mean it, Evans. Stay. Away."

-E-N-D- O-F- F-L-A-S-H-B-A-C-K-

As James sat on the floor of his room, holding his bloody hands in front of him, he remembered the look of terror on Evans's face when he had burst in and shouted at her.

First step back to normality, he thought, smiling grimly. I'll be back to the real James Potter in no time.

James went to bed that night with the image of her face still fixed in his head.

It only occurred to James a week after the incident on the charms corridor that Snape could have easily cut his own throat with that spell he used to release himself.

It unsettled James to know that Snape hadn't even hesitated before performing the near fatal curse... it unsettled James to know Snape would rather kill himself than take a beating from him.

In the following weeks James avoided coming into contact with her as much as possible, it was difficult though, with Prefect meetings and Hogsmeade visits to organise. James was trying so hard to ignore Evans's existence, that he didn't notice her leaving the Great Hall early one morning in the last week of September.

Nor did he realise a boy with long black hair, getting up from his seat opposite James and following her route out of the hall moments later, a menacing expression on his handsome face.