History Lessons

Chapter Three

Ancient Runes quickly became one of Lily's favorite classes. While before she, Leander, and Devon had been stuck in an unbearable hell with the Dream Team and their Captain Stimpson, Phoebe added a lively light to their Wednesday and Friday classes. That Friday Phoebe delivered a speech regarding the highly disputed classification of the Crumple Horned Snorkack. The next class she insisted on pointing out an article of the Quibbler in which several Ancient Runes were discovered in Russia and translated to point out the advent of the apocalypse was last year and that the world they were currently inhabiting didn't really exist.

Now she and Lily sat together in the library, writing a potions essay together. Lily understood Phoebe's previous education to have been quite varied and mottled; she knew a lot about some things but had never heard of others, and had written very few essays before at all. Potions was one of her most difficult subjects. Lily had heard stories of her adding whatever ingredients she fancied to her potions, such as her own eyelashes or scraps of her textbook pages, according to her random whims.

"But mint is so peaceful!" argued Phoebe. Lily was surprised with how forceful the girl could be at times.

"Yes, yes, it is, but its magical properties aren't," Lily patiently explained. "Now, runespoor eggs help calm the mind."

"But runespoors aren't peaceful at all," said Phoebe, almost derisively. "They've got a four-X rating, and not for nothing!"

Lily grinned. Tutoring Phoebe was entertaining, if tedious. "Now, write that down. Runespoor eggs are vital calm the mind."

"Cheating, Potter?"

It had been over a week since Lily had last seen Malfoy this close. He now stood in front of her, hands in his pockets, overseeing her studying with Phoebe.

"No, I don't have to cheat for my marks," she replied, looking back down at her book. "Now, Phoebe, what else assists in mind altercation for a Draught of Peace?"

"Good God," said Malfoy. "A Potter and a...whatever you are...trying do decipher one of Derwent's assignments? The library closes in four hours, you'd best hurry."

"Was that your attempt at a scathing comeback?" Lily called after him as he sauntered out of view. He didn't turn around. "Urgh. Don't listen to him, Phoebe."

"Was there anything to listen to?"

~

Lily was all smiles as she sat down next to Jordan at the end of the Gryffindor table on Saturday night. Hugo, her fourteen-year-old cousin, scooted in next to her, and she and Jordan bumped down to allow him room. Rudy Watkins had levitated an armchair into the Great Hall that looked suspiciously as if it had come from Gryffindor Tower and he and Blaine Deverill were forcing Clement to sit in it. Clement, blushing and beaming, finally sat to the cheers of his Quidditch team.

"Three cheers for Plumpton!" cried Blaine, standing on Clement's right hand side. "Hip hip --"

"Hurrah!"

"Hip hip --"

"Hurrah!"

"Hip hip --"

"Hurrah!"

"Blaine --"

"And one for merry England!" Blaine roared. "Hip hip --"

"HURRAH!"

"Blaine, sit down!" Clement exclaimed, finally getting a word in.

Blaine shoved Rudy down a seat to sit on the end of the table, across from Hugo, and leaned forward on his knees to hear Clement speak. The crowd was finally silent.

"Team," began Clement, and was immediately interrupted by another cheer. He buried his face in his hands, and Rudy started shushing. Blaine joined in with, "You lot are giving him a headache; shut up!"

Clement surfaced and tried again. "Practice Monday, four o'clock."

The team laughed (Blaine howling, "You chicken, we wanted a speech!") and began their dinner.

"Are you owling Auntie tonight, Lily?" asked Hugo, digging into his mashed potatoes. "Or shall I?"

"Go ahead," said Lily. "Send owls to everyone -- though I don't think the school has quite enough for that..."

"Only three of the Weasley clan this year?" said Rudy. "That's pathetic -- they're dying out!"

"Yeah, remember the Weasel Team of 2020?" said Blaine. "James, Dominic, Heath, Mabel, Fred, Leah, and Gabe...they had fun commentating those games -- 'It's Weasley with the Quaffle, and he passes to Weasley, with a bludger deflected by Weasley...'" The team laughed. "James was the only distinctive one as Potter," he added, nodding to Lily.

"Wish Albus'd play," said Clement. "He keeps saying it doesn't suit him, it's not his thing..."

Lily, Hugo, and Marcelle Weasley snorted in unison. Albus loved Quidditch; what kept him from playing wasn't a conflict of interest but that he couldn't fly to save his life.

"Albus isn't much on a broom," said Marcelle. "It's Rose you've got to watch out for."

"Our Head Girl?" said Jordan. "I wouldn't have guessed."

"She makes a mean seeker," said Marcelle.

"So you've just been waiting for McLaggen to leave, eh?" said Blaine, turning to Lily as Jordan and Marcelle continued their conversation. "Why'd you never slip him some poison or something?"

"Some Gryffindor!" said Rudy, hitting Blaine in the arm.

"What? Everyone hated him!" said Blaine, grinning. "Come on, Potter, we all know you wanted to knock him off."

Lily grinned awkwardly. Blaine Deverill was extremely good-looking; Evie had once described him as "Deverillishly" handsome. Now he turned his wide, laughing smile on Lily.

"Let me put it this way," she offered. "Had he stayed back for another seventh year -- if I'd had to wait another season -- he might've ended up in the hospital wing at some point or other...for a couple months..."

"Knew you had it in you," he said, winking, and she grinned back, hoping she wasn't blushing.

"Hugo's the youngest in the whole clan," Marcelle was saying to Jordan. "Of course he's bloody good, what'd you expect? He's got twenty-something cousins and a dozen more aunties and uncles to help him along the way!"

Hugo turned at hearing his name. "Wot?"

"Same with Lily," said Marcelle. "I mean, with her parents and having James as a brother? She's been flying since she was two."

"I still just don't get it," said Rudy. "How many Weasleys are there, anyway?"

"Let me put it this way," said Lily. "My mum was one of seven children."

"And six of those children had more children," said Marcelle. "I'm one of five; Uncle George had four, Percy had three, Ginny had three, Ron had two, and Charlie had one. And once you add in all the spouses, you end up with twenty-three of us, aged twenty-five to fourteen, at the Burrow for Christmas."

"Shit," Rudy remarked. "I'm an only child."

"No, you aren't," said Blaine. "Not here, at least. When you're with your team, you're with family."

"Cute," said Clement.

~

Fifth year was OWL year, as Lily was reminded everywhere she went. She found herself becoming more familiar with the library than she would ever have liked, and she and Phoebe began studying all of their subjects together, excepting Muggle Studies, which Phoebe didn't take, and Arithmancy, which Lily didn't take. Add in Quidditch practice, and Lily was swamped. Teams were only allowed four days a week on the pitch maximum but that wasn't enough for Clement. On their off days they did half an hour of basic flying practice. Saturdays were devoted to individual practice; starting at seven o'clock, it was keeper and the chasers, then chasers and beaters, and finally the seeker alone. Nobody could say that Gryffindor practices weren't run efficiently.

At dinner on September 19, Lily was not in a good mood. She'd just gotten back from double Potions, which was fun and she did well in but Professor Derwent tended to give her a headache. The looming prospect of Quidditch practice did nothing to raise her spirits. At the table, Rose and Hugo kept asking her advice on the wrapping paper color for their mum's birthday present, and on her other side Jordan wanted to know how well he was doing in Quidditch. Across the table, Evie and Erato were scanning Hogwarts' eligible bachelors, and Junia kept shouting from across the table and two seats to down to ask Lily about the charms essay that was due the next morning. Obviously dinner was not going to be as relaxing as she'd hoped.

"Green is too Slytherin," Hugo said dismissively. "Just go for the Gryffindor red and gold --"

"This isn't Uncle Harry, for goodness sakes!" said Rose. "Lily --"

"It's your mum, isn't it?" Lily interrupted crossly.

Rose blinked and bit her lip. "Of course. Now, I think purple -- no, we did the purple and silver last year --"

Lily rubbed her temples. She was not improving her mood. "Try white," she said to Rose. "White and...red, maybe, or green? Green isn't exclusive to Slytherins, you know," she added.

"White," said Rose, smiling. "Or maybe just white and silver? Quiet, elegant -- thanks, Lily!"

"Elric Jones, in Hufflepuff, is just talk, though," Jordan was saying on Lily's other side. "He brags because he made the team his third year, but Hufflepuff hasn't won a Cup since 19-something-pathetic. I'd beat him in a thumb war -- I'll hammer him at Quidditch! And Malfoy --"

"What?"

"Malfoy! They came so close to the Cup last year, I'll bet you anything he'll be twice as vicious this season."

"He's vicious?" she asked before she could stop herself.

"Are you joking?" Jordan demanded.

"All Slytherins are vicious," she amended. "Is he really much more so?"

Jordan rolled his eyes. "Lily, I expected more from you." He turned to Clement on his other side. "Hey Clem, is Malfoy vicious?"

"We've got another month and a half to prepare for the match, Jordan. You'll be fine."

"He's more vicious than other Slytherins, right?"

Clement shrugged. "What Malfoy wants, Malfoy gets. The Malfoys are probably the richest Wizarding family in England; I suppose he's spoiled rotten and gets fussy when he can't have his way."

Jordan clapped him on the back and turned back to Lily. "Vicious."

Lily snorted. "Spoiled rotten? Sounds like most of Slytherin House. Zabini's rich. Parkinson's rich. Flint's rich. Baddock, Davis, Harper...even Bole. What's with Malfoy?"

"Scorpius Malfoy?" Erato and Evie suddenly clued in to the conversation in front of them.

"Vicious, right?" said Jordan eagerly, and the two burst into giggles. Lily's jaw dropped.

"That's not the word I'd use," said Evie.

"Scorpius Malfoy is --"

"I've lost my appetite," Lily interrupted, standing and climbing over the bench.

"Now look what you've done," said Jordan across the table. "Seeing you two smiling at the mention of Malfoy is enough to make anyone sick."

Lily left the hall quickly. Scorpius Malfoy was not giggle-worthy. Not unless you thought the word "mudblood" was hot. Not unless you valued money more than personality.

When Lily reached her dormitory she saw that Jocasta had been napping in preparation for their midnight astronomy lesson. She was now awake, however, and was feasting on the bread and pumpkin juice she had taken from the dinner table earlier.

"Hullo," she said, perched on the edge of her bed. Lily sat on hers, facing Jocasta. "How's the dinner crew?"

"Fair," said Lily. "Loud, though. Rose wanted my advice on some present, and Jordan was demanding I tell him how good a Quidditch player he is..." Jocasta rolled her eyes. "And then Evie and Erato were gossiping..."

"Anything good?"

"It's like they're writing a book about all the boys in this school," said Lily. "I swear, they went through everyone, fourth to seventh years."

"Oh, I did that this summer," said Jocasta, taking a sip of juice. "I would do it with you, but you're never interested."

"Most gorgeous boy in school?" Lily questioned.

"Hard to say."

Lily rolled her eyes. "What a waste of time."

"If you must know," said Jocasta, lying stomach-down on her bed, "it's quite an extensive list."

"Really? I didn't know Hogwarts had that much to offer."

"The most gorgeous Gryffindor is probably Blaine Deverill."

"I knew you'd say that," said Lily.

"Because you agree with me," said Jocasta, smirking. "You know you're looking forward to those Quidditch practices."

"Shut up," said Lily, not containing her smile. "Listen, what was your thesis for this astronomy essay? I wrote on Hyperion --"

"Yeah, me too," she said, pointing to a scroll on the floor. "I got thirty-six centimeters."

"Thirty-four," said Lily. "I'm outsmarted again."

"And then there's the Golden Four."

"The what?"

"The four Ravenclaws -- the Golden Four."

"Oh, this again."

"Bennet Corner, Devon Hopkins, Leander Goldstein, and Sterling Summers."

"Sterling is silver, not golden."

Jocasta laughed. "Silver eyes, maybe, but golden hair."

"Leander Goldstein is a prick, Sterling Summers is nothing but a pretty boy, Bennet Corner is desirable but brainless, and Devon Hopkins is just a petty follower."

"Pretty follower."

"You're daft," said Lily. "Now which star did you choose? I almost went with Sirius but last time I did that Higgs marked me down -- do you think he was a Death Eater or what?"

"Probably," said Jocasta. "Dunno why Smethley hired him -- Flitwick wouldn't have."

"Nor McGonagall," added Lily.

"Leonius Madley isn't bad looking."

"Slytherin?"

"You hold house prejudices too far. He's not bad."

"His name is Leonius."

"Grow up," said Jocasta, but she was laughing. "So what star did you choose? Bellatrix?"

"That's not funny."

"Sorry," said Jocasta. "Too soon?"

"That's another thing about your 'Golden Four'," said Lily. "It is too soon to joke about the war like they do."

"Yeah," said Jocasta, suddenly serious. "That's true. I'm sorry, Lil --"

"Don't worry about it. I chose Alphard," Lily continued. "Its angle to Jupiter was so bizarre, it took me about three centimeters there just to explain..."