Giving Him a Chance

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Giving Him a Chance

Chapter four

By duva

***

I spent half of that night in the sixth years' dormitory, being laughed at by Sadie Alexander, one of my so-called best friends. For some reason, she seemed to find the whole situation hilarious.

'Only took you seven years to figure it out!' was the first thing she had said after my little revelation. My protests that I had definitely not fancied James Potter since I was a first year didn't appear to reach her ears, because her wild laughter had woken most of the other inhabitants in the room up, and they were even more amused by the situation than Sadie. I finally managed to escape from the nutters around two in the morning, and when I got up to my own dorm, everyone was thankfully asleep.

Despite not falling asleep until very late (or very early, depending on how you look at it), I woke up early the next morning. I had already finished all of my packing the night before, so I spent the morning dreading facing Potter, while telling myself that I was being ridiculous. It was just Potter.

James, my mind reminded me. It's just James, who's in love with you.

I felt as though I was rapidly going crazy. Part of my mind kept telling me that I really didn't even know James Potter, and that I certainly couldn't like him, while the rest of me felt positively giddy every time I thought about the events of last night. It was rather annoying, really.

I shared my news with the rest of my friends over breakfast, sitting with Dorcas at the Ravenclaw table and looking wildly for a head full of messy black hair. The other girls didn't find it as hysterical as Sadie, but were still rather amused, telling me that they had known for ages. Girls.

When we left the Great Hall to bring our trunks out to the carriages and I still hadn't seen hide nor hair of James, I was starting to feel very disappointed, despite trying my best to act as though I didn't really care. Where was he? He wasn't having second thoughts, was he? Could he?

Maybe he doesn't really like you after all, a nagging voice in my head told me. Shut up, another voice replied. He said he's in love with me.

When we arrived at the train, however, I got some refuge from my insane mind and the voices in it. Unfortunately it wasn't very pleasant.

Zaharia Jones-Jarvis, a Slytherin sixth year prefect, had apparently decided that she needed three benches to herself. When the other prefects had questioned her about it, she had responded by insulting their heritage and spitting on their shoes. By the time I got there, it was a full-blown war. People were hurling insults and hexes wildly at each other, and when I tried to get them to listen to me, they started attacking me instead. Verbally, mind you - none of them were foolish enough to actually try to hex the Head Girl. I found myself desperately wishing that James was there, and it had nothing to do with what had happened last night. When he walked in through the door, about ten minutes after I had gotten there, I nearly sighed with relief. The fighting prefects fell silent for a while, before Dorian Petrovsky, a small fifth year Slytherin, acknowledged his presence. 'Oh, look, it's Potter, the Mudblood lover.'

James was looking quite deadly, and started walking towards Petrovsky, looking very much like he'd want to punch him, which definitely would not improve the situation. I quickly leapt forward and put a warning hand on his forearm, ignoring the tingling sensation. 'Don't make it any worse,' I said quietly, as a reply to his confused stare. He stopped dead, and I cleared my throat to speak. The Slytherins were standing huddled close together on the opposite side of the compartment, and quite a few people on both sides still had their wands out. I didn't want an accident. 'Alright, everyone, we seem to be having a... situation here,' I said, trying desperately to sound cool, even though my hands kept shaking so badly I had to hide them in my pockets. 'I think we need to work this out, seeing how we're supposed to be role models for the rest of the student body.' A few Slytherins sniggered as a reply to this, and it made staying calm a lot harder. 'Right,' I said, wincing at the sound of my unsteady voice. 'Girls, come with me, the boys can stay here.'

Zaharia Jones-Jarvis, who was currently my least favourite person in the world, spoke up again. 'What makes you think we'd take orders from a Mudblood like you?'

I was just about to take a few dozen points from Slytherin and give her detention when James spoke up from behind me. 'She's Head Girl, that's what.'

As much as I had wished for his presence earlier, his words only made me angrier. Didn't he think I could take care of myself? Did he think I needed his help to protect me? 'I can manage this myself, Potter,' I said, sounding frosty even in my own ears. 'Anyone who doesn't step into the next compartment with me right now will have fifty house points taken and enough detention to last until Easter, do I make myself clear?' As I walked out of the compartment, the female prefects trailing after me, I caught a glimpse of James Potter, looking as though someone had just dumped a bucket full of ice cold water over his head.

*

'Well, he was obviously disturbed by the fact that you called him Potter,' Dorcas said calmly. It was the day after the disastrous train ride, and I had called her over to my house for advice. The sight of James looking so crestfallen had bothered me more than I would ever have imagined.

'Why?' I asked, playing with the fringes on my bedspread. 'I've called him Potter for nearly seven years.'

Dorcas actually rolled her eyes at this. 'You can be so incredibly dense, Lily.' At my blank stare, she went on. 'You called him James last night, didn't you?' I nodded. 'Right. And you were upset with him on the train. He obviously thinks that he made you mad enough to go back to hating him.'

'I never hated him,' I mumbled. What she was saying was making sense, and I didn't like it.

'That's hardly the problem here,' said Dorcas. 'You need to make him realise that you like him. You do like him, don't you?' she added as an afterthought.

I nodded. 'Merlin help me, but I do.'

Dorcas smiled a little at my words. 'That's what I thought. So, we need to make him realise this. Now, Christmas is coming up...'

I bolted into an upright position. 'I haven't gotten him anything!'

'Relax, Lily!' Dorcas said, still cool as a cucumber. 'We'll fix that. Any idea of what to get him?'

'No,' I admitted, shaking my head glumly. 'None at all.'

'Figures,' Dorcas muttered under her breath. 'Well, you'd better get a move on, then. The shops in Diagon Alley are still open.'

*

Half an hour later, I was pacing through Diagon Alley, followed by a very sulky-looking Dorcas.

'Why am I here, again?' she complained as we entered the sixth shop since we'd gotten there.

'To help me, of course,' I said absent-mindedly, glancing around the shop. 'No, this isn't good.' I opened the door again, stepping out into the cool, crisp afternoon air.

Dorcas sighed loudly. 'Why don't you just buy him something that has to do with Quidditch?'

'Too boring,' I said, shaking my head. 'Let's take a look in here...' I pushed the door to Flourish and Blott's open.

'A book?' Dorcas said, disbelief lacing her voice. 'For James Potter?'

'He's smart,' I said indignantly. I didn't really believe we'd find something in here either, but I wasn't about to let her know that. I quickly passed the shelves filled with Muggle books, stopping suddenly in front of a table which displayed a number of random books. I picked up the smallest of them. It was bound in black leather, with the words Haunted Houses in Britain and Ireland: Which Houses to Avoid printed on it. I felt a huge grin spreading over my face.

Perfect.

*

Dorcas hadn't agreed with me at all - 'Why on earth are you going to buy him that?' - so I had sent her home after purchasing the book. I myself had Apparated back to my house, where I was now in the process of putting the finishing touches to James's present.

The book I had bought lay open in front of me, displaying the very last pages, which were empty. It had a quill and a bottle of ink, as well as my wand, next to it, and I was currently cutting in a Muggle photograph of myself. I squinted at is as I put the scissors down on the table, satisfied with the results. Bringing up my wand, I muttered a permanent sticking charm, placing the photo on the empty page of the book. Once again satisfied with the results, I reached for my quill.

Lily Evans, I wrote in fancy letters above the photo. Built in 1959 in Staffordshire, I added in smaller writing underneath my name. I chewed on my quill for a while, unsure of what to write, then put it to the paper underneath the photo and began to pen words down.

Small but deadly, Lily Evans is scary in a good way. A visit is always exciting, but never life-threatening. Once you can get past your initial fear, you'll find it's a haunted house well worth the visit, as it almost never fails to be a pleasant experience.

I grinned at my words, hoping he'd remember our visit to the Three Broomsticks. Otherwise he might just think that I'd gone mental, which was not the effect I was hoping for. Frowning, I read it through again, thinking of how to end it.

Not many are granted entrance, but the chosen few can come back whenever they want to. These people involve Dorcas Meadowes, Sadie Alexander, Faye Oldham, Catriona Bauer, Michaela McCullough and James Potter.

I read it through again, grinning widely. He'd have to be really thick not to get it.

*

Christmas passed without much excitement. The four small loud children made lots of noise, Petunia complained a lot, and my mother drank too much eggnog, but apart from that, it was really rather bland. I hadn't sent James his gift - I didn't have an owl, and I didn't know his address (if he even had a Muggle address, which I wasn't sure he did), so I had decided to wait until we were back at school to give it to him.

As much as I tried to ignore it, I was disappointed that he hadn't sent me anything. I realised it was silly of me to expect a gift from him, but part of me couldn't help it. Which was why, as I was filling up the eggnog mugs yet again late on Christmas day, I was very pleased to see a barn owl clutching a parcel outside the kitchen window. Checking so our guests didn't notice anything, I opened the window slightly, letting the owl in. It hooted in thanks and let me remove the parcel before flying up to sit on top of the refrigerator. A letter fell out as I tore the parcel open, and I unrolled the scroll to read it.

Dear Lily, it said,

How are you? I hope things went okay on the train and that they weren't too horrible to you. I had to hand out a few detentions myself, but no one was injured, thankfully. I thought you could use some cheering up, so here are some things I think you'll enjoy. If you need more to take your mind off it, I'd be happy to take you down to Hogsmeade some time and buy you a Butterbeer or two, if you'd want to.

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Love, James.

I grinned. He had obviously been nervous as he had written this, because the letters were all shaky. Opening my gifts - a bottle of really neat, colour-changing ink and lots of my favourite sweets (which I was both amazed and touched that he knew) - I felt my grin widen. From the look of his letter, he wanted to take me to Hogsmeade, but was afraid that I'd turn him down. I quickly dashed out of the kitchen and went into my room, picking up the present I had prepared for him. Writing a hasty letter and sticking it into the package, I brought it downstairs again, careful not to let anyone see me, and tied it to his owl's leg. He needed a bit of a confidence boost.

*

As much as I hated to admit it, I was nervous as I was standing on platform 9 and ¾, waiting for the train to take me back to Hogwarts. I hadn't heard from James after Christmas, and my stomach was squirming as I stood with my friends, looking once more for that familiar messy hair.

'Would you relax?' Sadie laughed, apparently finding my state entertaining. 'It's just Potter!'

'Yes, well, I happen to fancy just Potter. I mean James Potter.' This caused the girls to laugh even more. 'Honestly, can we talk about something else?' I said, irritably. I didn't want James to see me like this.

'All right,' Faye said, and I made a mental note to thank her later. 'Did I tell you what my grandfather did on Christmas?'

'No, and I don't think we want to hear it,' Sadie interrupted. We all looked at her. 'Here comes just Potter,' she explained, grinning.

Feeling a bit light-headed, I turned around. Indeed, there he was, walking towards me, looking like he was about to faint. I couldn't stop a slow grin from spreading across my face.

'Hi,' he mumbled as he came to a halt in front of me, looking more nervous than I had ever seen him look before. In some odd way, his nervousness seemed to be the cure for mine, because all of a sudden, I felt incredibly sure of myself.

'Hi,' I echoed, still grinning, before reaching up to put my arms around his neck. Still smiling, I brought his face down to mine and put my lips to his.

I was vaguely aware of the fact that my friends were giggling like mad behind me, and that his friends were shouting something to him, and that we, the Head students, were probably making a scene right there at the platform, but it didn't matter. James brought his hands up to my hair, and as I felt his tongue sweep across my lower lip, nothing mattered except for him. His heart was beating strong enough for me to feel it, and I had a feeling that mine might be doing the same thing. I felt truly, ridiculously happy, and at that moment, there was only one thought in my mind, except for how right this felt:

I'm glad I gave him a chance.

***

THE END