Proving Me Wrong

PROVING ME WRONG

LAST CHAPTER:-

They had never seen James Potter lose his temper like this before, but whatever his best friend had done to seriously piss him off like he was now, they knew...

Sirius didn't stand a chance.

CHAPTER 13

" Fall from grace."

"Never- in all my years- have I seen...such- such reckless behaviour!"

It was getting dark on the quidditch pitch now, and the stars were beginning to shine like diamonds against the inky black sky. But James Potter and Sirius Black could not see the sky or stars, as they were currently examining the scuffmarks on their shoes. It was definitely more appealing than the other option; raising their heads to face Professor McGonagall, who was bearing down upon them like an angry rhinoceros.

The Gryffindor Head of House had gone to the changing rooms to tell the team that, in light of recent events, practice was to be cancelled. She arrived less than a minute after James had tackled Sirius to the ground, and upon finding the two boys brawling, cast the full body bind curse on them both. She ordered the quidditch team back to the castle and after having a few harsh words with one Remus Lupin, who had attempted to linger, sent him off as well.

McGonagall levitated the two stiff bodies of James Potter and Sirius Black out onto the quidditch pitch itself, and dropped them carelessly onto the hard earth. Muffled groans came from behind their sealed lips, and with a reluctant flick of her wand, she removed the curse.

James and Sirius got gingerly to their feet. Sirius shooting looks of confused anger at his best friend, and pinching the end of his nose to stop the blood already gushing down onto his chin. He was trying to catch his eye, but James turned away and began massaging his bruised knuckles.

They turned to look at McGonagall, and were met with a glare so cold that they felt their insides freeze.

"Explanation. Now." she spoke, her voice quivering with rage.

James and Sirius remained silent, but hung their heads out of politeness.

"No explanation? Potter, where have you been all day?"

A muscle in James's jaw twitched as he thought about the answer, and he felt Sirius's gaze shift to look at him.

A thousand possible excuses whirled around inside his head that was still fuzzy from sleep, each one too quick for James to grasp onto, like snitches.

But there was one that he could catch, but would not. He would not catch that menacing black snitch that loomed beside him, straying far from the mass of glittering gold.

The truth.

The one that was moving so sluggishly that it seemed it wanted to be caught, which made it harder for James to ignore. For he knew that as soon as his bloody fingers closed around it, expecting to feel the cool, smooth surface of metal, James would realise that it was not a snitch, but a bludger that was just pretending. And no matter how hard he tried, it would be impossible to let go of.

James imagined the spectators laughing uproariously as he got dragged around in the air by the bludger stuck to his hand.

Somewhere beyond this unsettling daydream, McGonagall started on Sirius, shaking James from his reverie.

"Black! You've been missing since lunchtime, your whereabouts?"

No answer.

"You're both extremely quiet now! Why just a minute ago you were shouting at each other like barbarians! A muggle duel! Never- in all my years, have I seen...such- such reckless behaviour! And from Gryffindors!"

She continued like this for the next fifteen minutes, her already thick Scottish accent becoming more and more pronounced as her tirade went on.

She stopped however, when the blood from Sirius's nose starting dripping onto the ground, speaking curtly she said, "Fifty points each from Gryffindor, and three weeks of detention."

She paused and heaving a sigh, said, "You two know better than most what is happening in our world today, what is happening within our very castle walls. And you should also know that our only chance of survival is to unite against it."

After this she stared at them both for a long time.

"Go see Madam Pomfrey, Black," she muttered.

With one last look at James, Sirius turned and stalked off towards the castle.

James swallowed and looked at his hands, bruised and encrusted with blood.

Some of it was Sirius's, but most of it was Lily's.

McGonagall peered at James over her square-framed spectacles as he tried to rub the dried blood off with the sleeve of his jumper.

"Potter, since you won't tell me where you were today I will have to make my own assumptions. The fact that you're covered in blood, dried blood, suggests that it is not Mr. Black's," she looked James in the eye, "Whoever's blood it is, and however it got on your hands and clothes, is of no importance to me."

Seeing his expression lighten she continued quickly;

"It is out of my hands now, Potter, the Headmaster will take it from here," James's heart plummeted, "He is in London on-er... business at the moment, but be sure that when he returns he will want to see you. And I daresay," she looked uneasily at his bloody hands again, "some... ministry officials may wish to meet with you too. Now go."

James nodded silently and walked to the changing rooms to collect the map and his bag. By the time he got back onto the pitch, McGonagall had already left, and he was alone again.

His eyes strayed to the bottom of the Northeast stand, and he shivered, wrapping his robes tighter around himself. Shaking his head, James pushed up his sleeve and checked his watch; it was almost eleven o'clock. He hitched his bag up higher on his shoulder, and walked out of the stadium, forcing himself to look anywhere but back.

Everything was quiet inside the castle; not a whisper could be heard from the paintings, nor a gleeful cackle from Peeves on one of his nighttime exploits. This all went unnoticed by James, as he walked disconsolately through the deserted corridors, finally stopping after what seemed like a lifetime.

He looked up wearily; expecting to see the painted boy and girl feigning sleep as usual, and have to 'wake them up' so he could say the password. But instead he saw two worn panelled doors. There were chips and bumps all along the middle of them, as though they had been pushed open forcefully.

James swore under his breath, realising his feet had led him to the wrong place. In fact, they had led him to the last place on earth he wanted to be. Rather than walking in the opposite direction as quickly as possible, James pulled open a door, and was greeted by the dim glow of candlelight coupled with the foul smell of Skele-grow.

Even though he would probably regret this later; James left his bag and map in the corridor and entered, closing the door with the sign saying, Hospital Wing, behind him.

The light was coming from Madam Pomfrey's office, the door of which was ajar. He looked in, and before he could catch sight of the Hogwarts matron, a gruff voice said, "She's with Prof. Root getting herbs for- for..."

James's expression was stony when he turned around to see Sirius sitting on the edge of a bed, holding what seemed like an entire roll of toilet paper up to his bloody nose. He gestured lamely with his free hand to the bed at the end of the wing, the one with the curtains drawn.

"For...y'know."

James glanced down at the end bed, and felt his chest constrict.

Forcing back the waves of anger, and nausea and exhaustion, he steadied himself and walked towards his friend.

"I thought I broke your jaw," said James indifferently.

"You did," he said, with more than a trace of resentment, "Pomfrey fixed it before she left, told me to wait here."

James clicked his tongue.

Sirius knew that if this had happened a month previous, he could have said something to the effect of, 'It's only Evans,' and that would be that, all would be forgiven. But now, he wasn't so sure.

In the most sombre tone he had ever used in his life, Sirius said, "I didn't mean for this to happen, James, I'm sorry. I just thought I'd scare her a little; get her to leave you alone. And I swear I didn't know she had a fear of heights until I got her up there, when I left her she was fine. Didn't think twice that she might have a problem getting- getting down..."

Sirius stopped, realising that he didn't know what else to say. He pushed the dark curtain of hair away from his face and looked down at his feet

"You believe me, James. Right?" he said in an unsure voice, raising his eyes slightly to look at him. "I just wanted my best friend back, the old Pr- "

I can't listen to this, James thought.

He strode over, and after grabbing Sirius by the arm, dragged him up to Lily's bed.

Pushing him toward the curtain, James spoke harshly, "Shut up about this 'old James' shit, Sirius!"

James spread his arms wide, "I'm here now with you, you've got your best friend back, even though I never even left you in the first place! Is this what you wanted, is this what you fucking WANTED?!" He gave the nearest iron bedstead a violent kick, causing the contents of its bedside cabinet to rattle. He ran a hand through his messy hair, which was now sticking together in great clumps because of the mud and sweat from earlier in the day. And now blood.

"I said sorry, what else can I do?" asked Sirius honestly.

"You said sorry? Bollocks, Sirius! How can you think that an apology will make things better?"

A second later, a look of realisation passed over the Head Boy's face.

Faintly, "You haven't even seen her yet, have you?" It wasn't a question.

Sirius averted his eyes.

"I heard, that she-er... was quite bruised," he replied in a hollow voice.

On the outside, James looked calmer than before, and his breathing had slowed.

But inside, inside... he was screaming.

WRONG! Broken leg, broken ribs, shattered cheekbones, so many bruises on her face she's unrecognisable...

The list of injuries that James had been unable to compile out on the pitch was suddenly coming back to him with such distressing clarity that you'd think he'd learnt them off by heart.

"Bruised?" he managed finally, with an incredulous on his face.

"Yeah," Sirius repeated, "I'm so sorry."

James felt as though there was a bludger trapped inside his skull.

Bringing a shaking hand up to his face, he said, "Don't bloody apologise to me Sirius. You look in there," he jabbed a finger at the curtain, "and tell me if an apology will wake her up. Just look at her, at what you've done, and you'll see that sorry...sorry doesn't cut it, Sirius... Nowhere fucking near it!"

Sirius looked at the curtain, and then at James, and back at the curtain again. An uneasy look came over his face, and he paled, creating a stark contrast between his pallid skin and bloody nose.

He shook his head and made to walk away, but James shoved him back hard, and with his shaking fists clenched by his sides, he growled, "Look at what you've done or I'll break your jaw for the second time tonight."

With a sideways look at his best friend, Sirius stuffed the wad of tissue paper into his pocket, drew back the hangings and stepped in.

James was already searching the shelves in Madam Pomfrey's office for Dreamless Sleep potion when he heard Sirius gasping. He finally found a bottle and made quickly for the exit, he couldn't stand being in here any longer. When shutting the door, James looked up in time to see Sirius stumbling out from behind the curtains, his face in his hands.

With the door closed, James picked up his bag and tucked the potion bottle safely inside. Ignoring the sounds of his best friend retching on the other side of the wall, he sprinted for the last time that day, back to heads' common room, where he could go to sleep and forget about everything.

At least until tomorrow.

***

Hours later, the silence in the Hospital Wing was smothering Sirius. Madam Pomfrey had fixed his nose in a flash, but because he had been violently sick, she refused to let him leave.

He lay on his side in bed now, with one hand loosely gripping the rim of a bucket the matron had given him. This bucket promptly 'vanished' any substance as soon as it hit the bottom, which was good for Sirius because he was in no mood to be casting 'evanesco' every five minutes.

He couldn't sleep, not now, not ever. His mind wouldn't let him.

He hadn't felt as wretched in all his life; even on the day he left home, which up until now had been the worst.

Suddenly he heard footsteps on the corridor, and dropped his bucket in surprise. He winced as it clattered to the floor, and waited silently for the click, click to fade.

The clicking of heels stopped however, right outside the Hospital Wing door. It was opened slightly, giving just enough room for the person to slip in unnoticed. There were two of them, he realised. The pair were speaking in rapid undertones, and didn't go to Madam Pomfrey's office as Sirius had expected, but instead walked purposefully towards the beds.

Bloody hell, he thought, snapping his eyes shut and clearing his face of all expression.

The two shadows passed by his bed, and Sirius recognised the voices.

McGonagall. And Dumbledore.

He caught a snatch of the Deputy Head's words, "-Wasn't unexpected, Albus. He wants to make an example of her. The order hasn't been - "

Sirius was mystified as to what McGonagall was on about, but from her tone he understood that 'the order' whatever it was, should be spelt with a capital 'O'.

The two professors halted at the end bed, and passed behind the curtains.

There wasn't a sound then for the next ten minutes, and Sirius was starting to think that they'd somehow disapparated away, even though Moony had drilled it into his brain long ago that 'you cannot apparate or disapparate within the grounds of Hogwarts.'

A moment later however, a murmured incantation told Sirius that they were still in there, doing something.

Then, something floated eerily up from within the curtains, a smoky outline of a person with their legs crossed like a Buddhist monk. He thought at first that it was Peeves playing a trick, or one of the other Hogwarts ghosts. It didn't look like the other ghosts though, who were pale and transparent. No, this phantom was dark and much more solid looking.

The figure continued to hover above the curtain rail and spun around slowly, so Sirius saw its face.

LILY EVANS.

He had to clap a hand over his mouth to stop himself screaming in horror.

Frozen with fear, Sirius watched as the ghost of Lily Evans stopped revolving and chuckled quietly to herself...to itself, he corrected.

It's not her. It's not her. Lily Evans can't be dead, she just can't be...

Even as he reasoned with himself, Sirius could already see the next ten years of his life, locked up in a cell in Azkaban.

I killed her. I'm a murderer.

Dumbledore uttered a word, and Lily's ghost disappeared. Sirius blinked, to make sure this wasn't some horrible fantasy, but the air above her bed remained empty.

He had no time to think before the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress came out from behind the curtain, forcing him to feign sleep once more. Had he kept his eyes open, Sirius would have seen Professor Dumbledore turn to look at him through his half-moon glasses, not a twinkle in sight.

As soon as the hospital wing door was closed, Sirius leapt up, sending bedclothes flying everywhere and ran to the end of the row. He tore open the curtains, all earlier fears forgotten, and scrambled to Lily's bed.

She lay there just like before, her fiery hair that was splayed out across the pillow stood out against her black-and-blue skin. Tentatively, Sirius put his ear to her chest.

Tears of relief fell from his eyes as he felt her heartbeat.

"Thank Merlin!" he muttered, sniffing and wiping his eyes on his pyjama sleeve.

Sirius stood back from the bed, such an insane smile spreading across his face he believed he could promote cheering charms for a living. After closing the curtains behind him, he floated back to his own bed, still grinning like a fool.

Ten minutes later, the joy had ebbed away considerably, and Sirius's head was buzzing with unanswered questions. For one, how could Lily Evans's fall be used as an example?

And more worryingly, if it wasn't unexpected, why hadn't they tried to stop it?

Outside the door, Minerva gave Albus a stern look.

"Why did you let him hear all that? Now that he knows something is wrong, he could be targeted and put the entire Order at risk! And Lily Evans's life, for the second time!"

Dumbledore replied gravely, "I think it would be more dangerous for Miss Evans, if he didn't know something was wrong, Minerva. Mr Potter seems to have some suspicions concerning her welfare, but we cannot allow Mr Black to make the same mistake again that he made today. And by allowing him to know enough information to help Miss Evans, but to not jeopardise the Order, we will be, what's the muggle phrase? Ah, 'killing two birds with one stone', though it escapes me as to why one would wish to do such a thing. Why kill one bird, let alone two? And with a stone-"

"And what about Lily Evans?" interrupted McGonagall, "We cannot solely rely on students for her protection."

" Nor can we solely rely on the teachers, myself included, or the castle's wards. That is why she must be sent home, at all possible opportunity. Presumably she will wish to return home at Christmas and Easter, but I would sleep more soundly in my bed if I knew she was in Surrey for Halloween, rather than at Hogwarts."

"I agree Albus, so arrangements must be made for her to return home. Obviously, certain Slyt- pupils must not be aware of any such arrangements-"

"No one other than ourselves and Miss Evans should know of them."

"It's settled then, Lily Evans shall return home at Halloween, Christmas and Easter, if not by her own request, then by ours."

***

"Ouch! Ow, for Merlin's sake!"

James had been running through the common room in his socks and stubbed his toe on the table leg. Muttering curses under his breath, he hopped over to the sofa and proceeded to overturn all the cushions, scattering them everywhere. He found a sickle down the back of the couch and pocketed it, though it wasn't what he was looking for.

Dropping to his hands and knees, he laid his head on the floor, and searched underneath the table. Nope, nothing there. He jumped back up to his feet and checked his watch, ten to nine.

He couldn't be late for his first class on Monday, Defence Against the Dark Arts, not after skipping it entirely last week. James hadn't gone to bed last night until one o'clock in the morning, as he had been serving detention with Flitwick, marking OWL practice papers. Even though he was completely exhausted from quidditch practice that afternoon, twice as long as usual, to make up for time lost on Monday, James couldn't get to sleep without his dose of Dreamless Sleep potion.

So understandably, he had overslept and missed breakfast. Admittedly, he didn't really mind that much because now he sat by himself during meals, as he didn't want to look at, let alone speak to Peter, Remus or Sirius. Especially Sirius.

Although he didn't mind missing out on the joys of eating breakfast alone, he would mind if he received another week's worth of detentions for tardiness. But he would get to class with plenty of time to spare...

"If only I could find my bloody tie!"

James couldn't remember the last time he had seen his Gryffindor tie, and had planned to spend most of the weekend scouring the castle for it, but through detentions, Lily, quidditch, Lily, homework, and Lily, there just hadn't been any time to do so.

Lily Evans had taken up a lot of James's time over the past week, though he hadn't visited her once. He had walked to the Hospital Wing so many times that he'd lost count, but when he came within sight of her bed, he simply froze.

He got this gut feeling every time he got near her, an alarm bell going off in head, telling him to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction. But even with these warnings, he still went back every day. The closest he had got to seeing her was on Friday evening, before detention, when Madam Pomfrey had told him 'do something useful rather than standing outside the door like an some vagrant' by clearing out all of the bedside cabinets.

It was dull work; he could have used the summoning charm, but chose to do it by hand. Merlin knows what could come flying out at him. He had been working on a locker, extremely aware that it was right next to Lily's, when he spotted something underneath the curtain.

Must have rolled away, James had thought, reaching out to grab it.

He'd known what it was before he saw it.

Her wand.

James had crossed over, placing the willow wand on her bedside cabinet. He had just caught a glimpse of her bruised face when the old fear kicked in. With amazing speed, James exited the hospital wing, calling out his excuses to Madam Pomfrey when he was already on the corridor outside.

James's stomach groaned, bringing him back to the present. "Sod it," he muttered, running up to his room and emerging with his schoolbag over his shoulder, his shoes on, and an odd sock in his hand.

Hurrying through all the shortcuts leading to the Great Hall, he held the yellowing sock out in front of him and quickly transfigured it into a red and gold striped tie. McGonagall couldn't have done a better job; it even had a nametag labelled J Potter, stitched into it, exactly like the original. He threw it around his neck and knotted it hastily, hoping he could grab a slice of toast and eat it on the way to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

He was on the corridors now and they were deserted; but even if they had been chock-a-block with people James still wouldn't have been slowed down, as students had taken to giving him a wide berth whenever he walked from class to class.

The first time this happened, it was Tuesday morning, and James was on his way to Double Transfiguration. He didn't notice at first, but when he got to the charms corridor, it became apparent that something was up. People going up on the left-hand side, people going down on the right, and James was somewhere in the middle. He had an entire lane to himself.

Although it made him feel like he was carrying some contagious disease, looking on the bright side, he was never late for class.

He supposed this was due to the events of last Monday night, being found in the changing rooms covered in blood, and then 'attacking' his best friend. Of course, a week after the "incident" as people were calling it, the truth had naturally been distorted. Though only ever so slightly.

The latest version James had heard was how he had marched the Gryffindor quidditch team out onto the pitch, confiscated all of their wands, and then forced them to watch, horror-struck, as he pushed Lily Evans from the top step. Oh yes, all the while torturing "that gorgeous Sirius Black" with the Cruciatus curse.

He had had half a mind to turn around to the two Ravenclaw girls and ask them if they'd like to witness it first hand, but common sense stopped him. They had no clue what they were talking about, no one did, and therefore, he ought not waste his breath.

James came to the open doors of the Great Hall, and was relieved, as the students had not yet begun to leave for class. He walked to his seat, and felt the hairs on the back of neck stand up. Scanning the sea of faces, he realised not just one person was looking at him, everyone was. He glanced discreetly at his 'tie' hoping it hadn't turned back into a sock. That would be embarrassing.

Tie is fine, so why's everyone staring?

James sat down quickly, and kicked his bag underneath the table. Excited hissing broke out around him, and he was just wondering what the hell was going on, when out of the corner of his eye, he saw something shooting through the air. Right at his face.

He caught the rolled up paper deftly in his right hand, thanking Merlin for his quick reflexes, and looked around to see who had thrown it. James spotted Remus halfway up the table, and frowned.

Remus mouthed, 'Read it,' with an uneasy expression on his face.

James unrolled the paper, and sat open mouthed, as he read the headline:

Hogwarts Homicidal Hotshot

He looked up towards Remus, mouthing, 'Is this a joke?'

Remus shook his head.

I always knew I'd make the front page, James thought, dazed, but this is bloody ridiculous.

There were four black and white photographs below the headline, one of Lily Evans, who seemed embarrassed and kept sidling out of the frame when she thought no one was looking, and one of Sirius, who was right in the foreground of his photo, pretending to walk up and down stairs while barking with laughter. There was one of James himself, flashing that award-winning smile, but running a hand through his hair uncomfortably, as though he knew what his photo was being used for. And the final photo was of a twenty-something year old witch, with elaborate and curiously rigid blonde curls set around her face, jewelled spectacles, and a wide smile that showed three gold teeth.

James already hated her. Scowling, he began to read:

Hogwarts Homicidal Hotshot

Rita Skeeter, recently promoted to Daily Prophet reporter, investigated the events of a freak accident that occurred on Hogwarts school grounds last Monday morning. However, it soon became apparent that this was just a fabricated story to cover-up a much darker truth.

Raging, he skimmed through the rest of the article, stopping to re-read lines such as,

"According to some Hogwarts students, the attack is supposedly a result of a love triangle involving the three seventh year pupils; James Potter, Lily Evans, and Sirius Black."

If James hadn't just been accused of attempted murder he would have laughed, but instead he glared across the hall at the Slytherins, who were all wearing self-satisfied smirks.

He returned to the newspaper, and skipped to the last paragraph:

A Ministry of Magic official, who has wished to remain anonymous, spoke to the Daily Prophet, "Our main concern is that Potter will attempt to finish what he started, and therefore we are strongly recommending that Albus Dumbledore hand him over to the Dept. of Magical Law Enforcement immediately." The unprovoked attacks on Miss Evans and Mr Black have shook the wizarding world from its foundations, and the public's love affair with the famous (or should I say infamous?) James Potter has finally come to a disturbing end.

James stood up abruptly, with his bag in his hand, and walked towards the exit. A path had already been cleared for him; he went down it with his head up, preparing to go straight to class. But as he came into the entrance hall he whipped around and shouted furiously,

"WHAT ARE YOU ALL BLOODY GAWPING AT?"

The crowd flinched, and James heard a first year start to cry.

"Potter, did you really try to murder the Head Girl?"

James glowered at Bellatrix Black, who was standing in between the Lestrange brothers, arms folded and an indulgent smile playing on her lips.

"OF COURSE I DID!" he spat sarcastically, "BEEN PLANNING IT FOR YEARS, DIDN'T YOU KNOW?"

Oh bollocks, James thought as soon as the words had left his mouth, wrong thing to say.

***

Lily Evans shot up in her bed, and immediately thought, "Oh God, I'm going to be late!"

While still half asleep, she got dressed in her uniform, not noticing that it had been washed and folded. She stood up drowsily and felt a terrible pain in her right knee. Whimpering, she limped over to the curtains and drew them back.

The morning light stung at her eyes, so shielded them with her hand. Feeling something wet, Lily took her hand away from her forehead, and watched as the blood fell from her fingertips.

"Miss Evans! What are you doing u- " Madam Pomfrey stopped in her tracks.

Lily turned around to face the Matron, a distraught expression on her face. "Madam Pomfrey, I don't know why I'm here, I- I can't re-remem-"

"Lily, calm down," the young woman said softly.

"I'm sorry- I- I have to go to class," she said anxiously, wiping her hand roughly on her skirt. Lily looked back in at the bed she had been sleeping in, and turned back to Madam Pomfrey, her bottom lip trembling, "Where's my bag?"

Madam Pomfrey moved closer to her, and with a pitying look said, "Come on back to bed, love. You've suffered a terrible acc-"

"No!" she cried, limping towards the door, "I've already missed first class because of that Sirius Black-"

"Lily, you're not strong enough, you can't-," urged the Matron, getting more and more worried.

"I have to go-" muttered Lily, quickening her pace.

Madam Pomfrey started coming after her so she broke into a run. After the first step her knees buckled and she fell to the floor with a scream of pain.

She curled up on the floor, sobbing in agony. Madam Pomfrey rushed over, and levitated the girl gently back to her bed, giving Lily a strange sense of déjá vu.

"Sssh, " said the matron soothingly, peering into the young girl's face a few minutes later, &ldq;You fell Lily love, don't you remember? You fell."

Lily went silent, and looked away, her brow creasing.

A minute later, a painful look passed over her face, and with a tortured expression, she shook her head, burying her face in her hands.

***

The following day, Lily made her way back to the Heads common room. She was walking slowly, as her right knee was still very tender, and would take a few weeks to get back to normal. Yesterday she had learnt that the hard way.

Lily had been wracking her brains all night, trying to remember falling down the steps, but she couldn't. She recalled watching Sirius walk across the quidditch pitch, whistling to himself, but after that everything was black. Next thing she knew she was awake in the Hospital Wing, believing it was still the same day, and that she was about to miss History of Magic.

Before leaving the wing this morning, Madam Pomfrey had fussed over her, healing little cuts on her face, strapping up her leg with a roll of bandage, all the while telling her that she was very lucky to be alive, so to be very careful from now on.

The gashes on Lily's back had almost healed when she checked two weeks ago, so it was very unlikely that Madam Pomfrey had noticed them, but Lily wanted to be sure. "Um, Madam Pomfrey," she said quietly, "was my back all right when you found me?"

The matron was breaking up a slab of chocolate with a hammer as she replied, "Oh, I didn't find you dear, no, it was the Slytherin quidditch team, down for an early practice," she put her tongue between her teeth, chiselling away at an extra thick piece, "Your spine was sound, thank Merlin, but the skin on your back was terribly bruised... terribly bruised." She shook her head sadly and sniffed.

With a final whack, she cracked the chocolate in two, giving her one piece to eat now, and one to eat later. After forcing it down, Lily was full, and decided not to go to breakfast after all. She was still a bit unsure of people seeing her yet, as her face wasn't exactly a work of art, not that it ever had been. There was a thin red cut that traced her jaw line, and plump violet bruises scattered across her cheekbones.

Lily was about to leave the Hospital Wing, when Madam Pomfrey called out, "Wait, Miss Evans, you've forgotten your tie."

"My tie?" Lily repeated, looking back down, knowing that she already had one on.

"That's right. Do you know, you must have came to for a bit after you had fallen, and wrapped it around your knee to stop the blood flow. Do you remember that?"

The young nurse waited hopefully.

"I can't remember," replied Lily, who was annoyed with herself, "Are you sure its mine?"

"Yes, I'm sure," said the matron, pushing the red and gold striped tie into the girl's hands, and clasping them in her own. She smiled and said, "Take care of yourself now, and don't go to places without thinking of how you'll get back first, understand?"

Lily smiled and nodded.

She took the tie, and after murmuring her thanks, left the Hospital Wing, closing the door behind her.

She was walking gingerly along the corridor now, and pulled the tie out of her pocket. She ran it through her fingers, enjoying the silky feel against her skin. Turning it over, she read the nametag labelled, J Potter, and stopped.

Could it be possible?

Lily said the password, ('Cum tacent, clamant') to the painting, climbed up into the portrait hole with much difficulty, and spent the next two minutes trying to get through it with as little pain as possible. She emerged into the common room, planting her feet on the carpet with a happy sigh; it was good to be back.

Suddenly, a mop of messy black hair appeared from underneath the table, followed by a forehead and eyebrows, until all of James Potter's face was in plain view. He looked quite angry, Lily thought, like on the day he had last spoken to her, when he had told her to 'stay the hell away' from him.

James's eyes widened as realised that that was Lily Evans standing at the portrait hole. She looked different somehow, her face was still bruised, naturally, but she seemed like she wasn't sure of herself at all. Like she wasn't sure of anything, in fact. He scrambled out from underneath the table and quickly brushed the dust off his robes. He was about to run a hand through his hair but was reminded horribly of the photo in the Daily Prophet yesterday, and stopped himself.

Lily glanced over, and found him staring at her; his eyes flickered to her bandaged leg a few times, before looking at the floor.

She cleared her throat and asked warily, "Um, what were you looking for?"

James raised his eyebrows, he had been thinking about something, "Oh, er- my tie, don't have a clue where it is. I've been wearing a sock for the past week."

Lily chuckled quietly to herself, and had another sensation of déjá vu.

Reaching into her pocket, she said, "Er, I think I have it here," she held the tie out to him and watched as look of realisation passed over his face.

James paled as he took it from her, finally remembering where he had left it.

Feeling curious, and going by the look on Potter's face, Lily went on, "Madam Pomfrey said that was found wrapped around my knee, and it stopped me losing a lot of blood."

"Really?" said James uninterestedly, now engrossed in putting it on. He didn't say anything else.

Lily felt his eyes on her as she limped over to the fireplace to collect her bag.

James picked up his own bag and walked to the portrait hole, he was halfway into it when he stopped and asked, "Are you er... going to breakfast?"

"Yes," replied Lily slowly, not really sure why she hadn't just said no.

James nodded silently and went on.

What the hell are you doing? he thought, this girl is the reason why you can't sleep at right, the reason why you're sitting by yourself at meals! Everything bad in your life is because of HER.

SHUT UP.

Lily came out on the other side and saw James halfway up the corridor. He slowed down so she could catch up with him, and they walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence.

When they came within view of the doors, James stopped and put his hands in his pockets. Lily stopped too.

"No, you er- go on, I'll follow you in a minute. You uh...don't want to be seen with me," he said quietly, without looking at her.

Lily cocked an eyebrow, "So, in other words, Potter, you don't want your friends to see you with me."

"Evans, they're not my fr-," he began, meeting her gaze fiercely. His paused, and his expression softened, "It's not that, it's- "

"What?"

It's because everyone thinks I pushed you off the quidditch stand, are you happy?

"You'll find out soon enough, now go," he gestured towards the door, "Hurry up, I'm starving."

Giving him an odd look, Lily limped past him and into the great hall.

James walked around the entrance hall for a minute, thinking about what had just happened in the common room. Lily (he didn't mind calling her that in his head) gave him his tie back, which was good, because although his tiesock was okay, he still knew he was wearing a sock around his neck, even if no one else did. She didn't seem to remember how his tie had gotten around her knee, which was even better. If she didn't ask any more questions about it, he should be fine, but if anyone found out that he had actually seen Lily that day, James would be arrested before you could say, 'Azkaban.'

Deciding that he had waited long enough, James turned around on his heel and walked in through the huge oak doors, praying that she wasn't in an inquisitive mood.

There was no sudden hush as he entered; in fact, there was an increase in volume, as James got closer to his seat. He stopped beside his usual place at the Gryffindor table, looked down at the person sitting in it, and said blankly, "You're sitting in my seat."

"No," replied Lily, the corners of her mouth twitching as she pushed aside yesterday's edition of the Daily Prophet, and began to pour herself a glass of milk, "I'm sitting in my seat. Your seat's up there." She nodded her head up to the middle of the table where three boys sat, like the rest of the school, watching the exchange between the Head Boy and Girl with great interest.

James scowled, "I'm not sitting with them, move...please."

"Or what?" she asked, propping her elbow up on the table and holding her cheek in her hand. Staring up at him, she added jokingly, "Are you going to push me off my chair?"

The effect of those words was staggering.

Forks clattered, plates smashed, juice splashed, people gasped, jaws dropped, eyes popped and everyone was thinking,

He is going to push her off her chair!

Lily stopped smiling and looked around, realising she had said something wrong. She glanced up at James, who was calmly wiping his glasses on his jumper.

Pretending he was fixing his tie, he said to Lily in an undertone, "You shouldn't have said that. Sarcasm is completely lost on these people."

Moving over a bit to make room for him, she muttered dryly, "I noticed."

For the rest of the day, the showdown between Potter and Evans in the great hall was being related endlessly to those who had been stupid enough to miss breakfast that morning. Even the Gryffindors, who had been sitting beside the two Heads, swore that they had seen James's wand hidden up his sleeve and had heard him murmuring under his breath, cursing Lily Evans with Imperius, so she would give him a seat.

It was last class and Lily was traipsing across the grass to the Greenhouses. She squinted in the cold light at the quidditch pitch in the distance; she had found it easy to joke about her fall this morning because she didn't even remember it. How can you be afraid of something that isn't real to you? She wanted to remember; she really did, but couldn't help thinking that she had enough bad memories already.

She turned the corner, still staring at the stands, when she bumped into a brick wall. Falling onto the gravel with a whimper as she landed on her knee, Lily discovered that it wasn't a brick wall after all, it was Sirius Black.

"I'm sorry," he said, grinning apologetically, lifting her bag off the ground after she rejected his hand.

Lily rubbed her knee, now back on her feet, "No, it's okay, Black- "

"No," said Sirius, shaking his head, "Sorry...for everything." He gave her a meaningful look.

"Oh."

"I was a prat, I'm sorry Evans. I shouldn't have left you up there like that, if James hadn't- " he stopped.

"What?" said Lily quickly.

There was a pause.

"What?" repeated Sirius stupidly, realising he'd almost put his foot in it there.

Lily surveyed him for a minute, and said, "Never mind. I have to go to Herbology now, thanks."

Sirius started, "Wait! Wait, I'm not finished yet. I have something to tell you."

"Black, you've already said sorry, that's enough for- "

"Want to know how to get into the kitchens?" he said, grinning mischievously.

Lily's eyes lit up, "Yeah- I mean, yes, okay."

Pleased that she hadn't slapped him in the face or worse, because his nose was still a bit sore, Sirius proceeded to tell Lily all about the ticklish pear.

Later that night, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black were crouched in the corner of the Hogwarts kitchens, the invisibility cloak shrouding the two of them.

"Can you please tell me why we're doing this again, Padfoot?" muttered Remus in an irritated voice.

"For the third time Moony, I want to know what Evans thinks of my 'I'm Sorry for being a Prat' party," Sirius replied happily, looking over at the four long tables at the entrance to the kitchen, each one laden with cakes, chocolates and ice-cream. A large banner hung from the ceiling with Sirius's beaming face on it, so there could be no mistake who it was that was apologising.

"Well, technically it's not your party, as the house-elves did all of it. But that still doesn't explain why we stole Prongs's cloak, to sit here like...like stalkers, waiting for her to come in. Could you not have just asked her what she thought of it tomorrow?"

"No!" hissed Sirius, scandalized, "I want to see her face when she comes in, and then we'll- (Remus gave him a dangerous look) then I'll jump out and shout 'surprise!'"

Remus rolled his eyes, "Fine," smiling at his friend's eagerness to please Lily and get her to forgive him. Just then, the wall opened and Lily Evans limped through. Remus felt his friend tense with excitement.

Her mouth fell open as she took in the house table replicas, groaning beneath the plates of sweets. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, and her lips curved into a smile as the picture Sirius waved down at her.

"Are we jumping out yet?" whispered Remus.

"No, wait...this is the best part," Sirius replied.

A small house-elf sped across the tiled floor towards Lily, holding a silver tray above its head with a giant mug of foaming butterbeer on it.

Lily felt something tugging at the hem of her skirt, and looked down to see a rather ugly looking doll with large bat-like ears.

She flinched and backed away from it, terrified.

She remembered now. She remembered everything.

"Miss," squeaked the tiny elf anxiously, "I is sorry if Poppy startled you, Miss."

"Poppy?" asked Lily suspiciously.

"Yes, Miss, I is Poppy. Would you like a butterbeer?" The house-elf stood on its tiptoes, so that the tray was even higher than before.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief and shook her head. Poppy's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"But," went on Lily guardedly, "you could help me with something."

"Anything, Miss!" squeaked the elf, beaming.

"Do you know every house-elf that works here?"

"Yes, Miss er- "

"Lily," she said quietly.

"Oh, yes, Miss Lily! Poppy knows every elf at Hogwarts!"

"Well, I'm looking for quite an old house-elf, his eyes are grey and a bit bloodshot, his hair is grey too and it grows out of his ears." Lily closed her eyes and thought hard, trying to picture him in her mind. "Oh yes, his nose, it's like pig's."

Poppy scrunched up her features, deep in thought.

Lily said, suddenly, "Er... but he doesn't wear one of those," she gestured towards Poppy's toga, stamped with the Hogwarts crest, "He has this um...well, I suppose it's a rag really, tied around his middle."

Poppy looked up at her, and squeaked, "Then he can 't be a Hogwarts elf, Miss Lily, we all have to wear the uniform."

"Oh," said Lily softly, frowning, "I- I must have made a mistake then, Poppy. Thank you."

The little elf scooted off, leaving the Head Girl alone. She glanced at the food and found that she had lost her appetite. Turning around slowly, she sighed sadly, and left.

Back in the corner, Remus asked, "Did you just say 'creature?'"

"No," growled Sirius in a dangerous voice, his brow furrowed, "I said 'Kreacher,' with a K."