History Lessons

Chapter Seven

"I know Evie fancies Leander a lot," said Jocasta. "And I think Erato likes Sterling, but it might be Bennet...I'm not sure."

"And who do you fancy?" Lily knew Jocasta too well. She was building up to something.

"Oh, er, I don't know."

"Listen, I already know it's Jordan."

"What?" Jocasta squealed.

"It's obvious," Lily continued, giggling. "Don't worry, not to him, he's as thick as Hogwarts, A History."

Jocasta sighed. "Do you think he likes me?"

"Honestly, I don't think it's crossed his mind," said Lily unhelpfully. Jocasta rolled over on her bed and buried her face in her pillow. "That's not what I meant! I just mean...he's thick, Jo. Once he realizes it, he'll be in love with you three times over, but it's just not occurred to him yet. He's been friends with us for so long I don't think it's quite sunk in yet that we're girls."

Jocasta looked up. "Oh, Lily, do you fancy him too?"

Lily snorted. "No, thanks. Not my type."

"Oh, let me guess your type." Jocasta sat up, looking cheered. "Tall..."

"Mmm-hmm."

"Strong."

"I suppose."

"Dark-haired."

Lily burst out laughing. "You think I fancy Blaine!"

Jocasta looked cross. "Why not?"

"Blaine's good-looking, no doubt," said Lily, "but he's too much. He's too loud, he's too self-centered."

"Devon, then."

"Devon's a pushover."

Jocasta just stared shrewdly at Lily, and Lily knew what was coming -- oh damn, how could she deflect this?

"Are you coming to the game this Saturday?" she asked wildly, but Jocasta talked over her.

"Who do you fancy then? You fancy someone, Lily Potter, and even if you don't want to tell who it is, I'm going to find out."

"Unlikely."

"Clement Plumpton?"

"No."

"Rudy Watkins?"

"No."

"Erm...Donald McDougal?"

"No."

"Is he a Gryffindor?"

"I'm not telling you anything!"

"Leander?"

"No!"

If it wasn't Malfoy on her case it was Jocasta. If Blaine didn't have his arm around her, it was Devon sitting far too closely next to her. The only person to keep her sane was -- a little ironically -- Phoebe Scamander. They had resumed their library study sessions even at the penalty of enduring Devon's presence. However, Lily found that he stuck around for a lot less time when she was with Phoebe.

Every now and then Malfoy would visit her and Phoebe in the library. If Phoebe ever noticed anything strange in the companionship between Lily and Malfoy she never mentioned it. He would ask about her homework and how training was going. As the much-anticipated Gryffindor-Slytherin match drew closer, he would ask if she'd been hexed that day by any of his teammates.

Lily could easily see this situation happening with either Blaine or Devon and it was these images that made her appreciate Malfoy even more. If she'd told Blaine about Leonius Smith's tripping jinx, he would jump from his seat in a fury and sprint for the nearest Slytherin, fists clenched. If she told Devon about Smith's jinx, Devon would get righteously indignant, swear a bit, and tell a Prefect, Head, or Professor. He would then fuss about her bruised knee.

Lily held her breath after she told Malfoy the story, curious to see his reaction.

"Are you all right?" Malfoy demanded.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Lily. "It was just a trip. My knee's bruised a bit, but I've had plenty worse."

"What'd you get him back with?"

She grinned. "Something he hasn't been able to fix yet, and that's all I'm saying."

"And I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be above that sort of thing," Malfoy sneered.

"Don't worry, it'll clear up by Saturday," Lily said. "And I've never claimed to above hexing someone who deserves it....besides, who've you cursed this week?"

"Got Deverill with a babbling curse."

"That was you!" Lily remembered this instance clearly: she'd been in the courtyard during break with Jordan, Clement, and Blaine. Jordan and Clement were deep in conversation over Chasing tactics when Blaine finally got to talk to her alone. His first words to her, "Hey, you know, I wanted to tupkle twarpling yushniggle bants glurkag..." and wouldn't shut up all break while she, Clement, and Jordan attempted several counter-curses.

"It was harmless," Malfoy said, shrugging casually.

"You prat," she replied.

But this conversation left her with an idea, one she was itching to act upon...but it would be risky, very risky...She confided in Phoebe, who nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, it'd be a real test of character," she decided. Lily wasn't sure what that meant except that it was positive.

The next day was the Thursday before the game. Lunch was almost over when Lily left the Gryffindor table and made her way past Hufflepuff and over to Ravenclaw to visit Phoebe. The area around Phoebe was, as usual, empty, though she sat farther down the table than she normally did -- perfectly positioned to face Malfoy's back.

Lily waited patiently, discussing with Phoebe the merits of visiting the country of Mongolia, when Malfoy and his friends finally stood to leave. Lily seized the moment: she aimed carefully under the table and knew immediately her success as he fell over. The surrounding Slytherins snorted into their food to see their Head Boy lose his balance in such a manner, for Malfoy could not stand up again. Vaisley reached down and yanked at his arm, but Malfoy could not stay standing. His legs seemed to have turned to jelly.

"He knew it was me," said Lily the moment she and Phoebe had left the Great Hall. "Ooh, this was a bad idea, I went too far..."

"I don't think so," said Phoebe brightly. "I'm sure he was laughing right along."

"He was so angry!"

"He can't be angry with you," Phoebe said simply. "You cursed his seeker with a hex he'll never be able to cure without time and he was cold for three seconds before he tells you a tale of how he cursed one of his competitors."

Lily looked incredulously at Phoebe. It was true, but there were too many other factors to consider. Maybe Malfoy had never liked Smith. And besides, he was just boasting about cursing Blaine. That wasn't anything unusual.

It was too much to hope that Malfoy fancied her as much as she fancied him, so Lily decided not to give the matter any more thought.

~

"Jelly legs? How original," sneered Malfoy.

"I was being nice," said Lily, not looking up from her Potions homework.

"You don't need to be easy on me, Potter, I can handle real jinxes."

Lily paused and looked up. "Have you fixed Smith's toenails yet?" Malfoy glared and she smiled sweetly. "Yeah...I took it easy on you."

He scowled. "Well, I can't stay..."
"All the better," she replied, her eyes twinkling.

He stared down at her. "Good luck Saturday."

"You as well."

~

Lily walked into the Great Hall with the rest of her team. The Gryffindors eating breakfast stood and cheered. The Slytherin team was already eating, their green robes standing out among the black robed students. Lily caught Malfoy's eye and nodded and he nodded back solemnly.

Breakfast was a tense affair. Blaine laughed even louder than usual at less funny things; Rudy kept flexing instinctively, as if afraid he'd lose his muscles before the match; and Clement sat stiffly in his chair and looked as though he was practicing breathing slowly.

They made their way to the pitch at ten thirty for the eleven o'clock game. They sat in the locker room for Clement's speech and then made their way outside...

"And it's Tabitha Warbeck with the Quaffle, she's going, loops Weasley -- Marcelle Weasley -- and passes to Malfoy -- intercepted by Jordan! Jordan ducks a Bludger, is blocked by LaFolle, drops the Quaffle -- and Captain Clement Plumpton picks it up, shoots upward, nearly hits Malfoy -- come on, Clem, you could've gotten him -- dodges a Bludger, passes to Weasley --"

Lily stayed in front of her center hoop, moving only for a better view of what was going on. Blaine's friend Matt Horton was commentating with Professor Fawcett overseeing.

"Nice Bludger sent by Deverill, keeps LaFolle away, Clement's got an open shot -- WATCH OUT -- drops it to Weasley -- SHE SCORES!"

Lily whooped, punching the air. However, this was only the beginning...she knew Slytherin was about to get even.

"Play resumes and Jordan gets the -- no, swiped out of his grip by Malfoy, its Malfoy heading for goal. He's blocked by Weasley -- no -- that's a foul!"

Malfoy pivoted in midair, scowling. Mr. Barkwith, the referee, took the Quaffle from Malfoy and handed it to Marcelle.

"And that's a foul of blatching called against Slytherin captain Scorpius Malfoy. It's Weasley with the throw -- but blocked by sixth year Nathaniel d'Eath. And play resumes...Malfoy takes the Quaffle once more, passes to Warbeck, who passes to -- SNITCH!"

Lily tore her eyes away from the action to see Hugo and Leonius Smith speeding toward the ground. Hugo was weaving slightly and Lily moaned as she realized he was out of control...he tried to pull up out of the way and ran straight into Smith.

"Come off it!" yelled Matt Horton as Barkwith held his hands up and waved toward Lily. "That wasn't skinning! You blind troll, you complete --"

Lily's heart beat against her ribs uncomfortably. Barkwith handed the Quaffle to Malfoy and he turned towards her. Their eyes met but Lily quickly blinked and stared instead at the Quaffle. She just had to imagine him as someone else, like she was just in practice still and it was Marcelle aiming...

Barkwith blew his whistle and Malfoy shot forward, feigned right, flew left, and threw. Lily dove, catching the Quaffle in a hug against her chest. Horton was shouting from the commentator's stand but all Lily could hear was the blood thumping in her ears. She sat up again on her broom, breathing heavily, and saw Malfoy's cold countenance glaring her way. She looked away quickly, took fake aim for Jordan but dropped the ball to Marcelle below her, and play resumed.

The next goal was scored by Clement. The next time the Slytherins approached Lily she could practically feel Malfoy's rage at her. LaFolle passed to Warbeck, back to LaFolle, up to Malfoy, and he chucked it as hard as he could to her right post. She couldn't catch it but she shoved it as hard as she could away from the hoop, nearly falling through it herself in the process. But Warbeck stole it out of Marcelle's waiting hands and passed it back to Malfoy, who threw it for the left hoop, and Lily had no chance.

"And Potter...is too late..." sighed Horton. "Twenty to ten, Gryffindor."

The game lasted at least another hour. Twice more the Snitch was spotted but escaped; both times the Seekers were deflected by Bludgers. Gryffindor scored eight more times and Slytherin nine more. Lily kept telling herself that her blocked shots versus allowed goals ratio was good, but she was still a little discouraged.

The two teams were obviously evenly matched. It soon became not a matter of goals but a matter of who would next catch the Snitch. Lily's mind began to wander whenever the Quaffle was on the other side of the pitch. What would happen to her and Malfoy's friendship after this game? What if Gryffindor won? Malfoy was so used to getting his way....She suddenly recalled a conversation between Clement and Jordan about Malfoy from the beginning of term. That was so long ago...back when Malfoy wasn't giggle-worthy.

"SNITCH! COME ON, WEASLEY!" Horton roared into his magical microphone as the two seekers rocketed upward. "GO! GO! SCREW SMITH, THAT SNITCH IS YOURS!"

"Mr. Horton, may I remind you--" Professor Fawcett began but his words were drowned out by both Horton's whoops and the screams of the Gryffindor fans as Hugo grasped the Snitch.

Lily sped towards Hugo from her hoops but was blocked by a Slytherin player. She gasped as she braked quickly and saw that it was Malfoy. He looked down at her, expressionless. She smiled nervously; he nodded in reply and flew off.

What was that about?

It was hard to worry about Malfoy during a celebratory Quidditch party, especially one at which she was a guest of honor. Butterbeer and house-elf fudge passed the time quickly before Lily trudged upstairs to her dormitory. It was only while lying in bed on the verge of sleep that she wondered if Malfoy was, as he was most nights, looking for her in the corridor. When an image of this came to mind she was dreaming.

~

Lily heard the chair move and the thump as someone sat down. She was immersed in her ancient runes book and decided that it was not worth looking up. Maybe, if she ignored him completely, he'd go away.

"Good evening," said Phoebe to their visitor.

Silence. Lily frowned.

"You could at least return the greeting," she said to him, still not looking up.

"If you'd bothered to look, you'd have seen my smile and nod in response. I'll be sure to be more verbal next time, though, if that wasn't enough."

Lily's head snapped up and she immediately colored. "Oh."

"She thought you were Devon Hopkins," Phoebe explained to Malfoy. "He always likes to sit across from Lily."

Lily felt her ears burning. "What're you doing here?" she asked quickly.

"I was just glad to see you studying somewhere sensible and thought I'd drop by and encourage you and offer my knowledge on runes."

Lily snorted. Malfoy wasn't exactly an encouraging type of person. "Thanks, but we're doing just fine," she said.

"Actually, we were just trying to figure out whether this is a misprint or not," said Phoebe, pointing to a symbol from her book. "Or perhaps it's a dialect we haven't seen before."

Malfoy smirked at Lily. "I'd be delighted to help."

Phoebe pushed her book over to Malfoy and tapped on the rune. He squinted for a moment. "This is a very late symbol...it means gold."

"We thought it was gold," Lily said quickly.

"Or field," said Phoebe. "Or soldier. Or sky. Or foot. It was one of those."

Lily glared at Phoebe. Whose side was she on, anyway?

"The problem was the curvature of the horizontal line," Malfoy further explained. "You can almost see how it became, later, part of written Arabic."

"Great, thanks," Lily muttered, taking notes on her parchment.

"Oh, we also had a question about the syntax of the line above that," Phoebe said, leaning across the table again to point something out. "We mostly got it, but shouldn't there be a dot above house and not man?"

"That's actually a rule that doesn't apply to Middle Eastern runes. I assume you've just started those? Well, there are few syntax rules that don't transfer from the Gaelic to the Arabic, but that's one of them. Now, did you choose in as being the preposition with house? Because there's another rule here..."

Phoebe kept asking questions and Malfoy was perfect in his answers, and Lily knew that he was doing it just to frustrate her. In fact, Phoebe was positively acting as an accomplice.

"I think that's it, then!" Lily said brightly after two more questions from Phoebe. "We're all done, right, Phoebe?"

"I think our Ancient Runes homework is done, but we've still got to keep going," she replied, taking her book back from Malfoy and putting it in her bag along with her notes and quill.

"Right. See you tomorrow, then."

"Goodnight," Phoebe said, and then repeated it to Malfoy.

"Goodnight," he replied pointedly.

Lily stood and slung her bag over her shoulder and followed Phoebe out of the library but took a different staircase upwards. Malfoy followed her.

"I thought Slytherin Common Room was in the dungeons," Lily said, turning around as she reached the top of the stairs.

"Good guess," he replied, still half a staircase away.

Lily watched as he reached the landing and then continued down a corridor with him.

"Good game Saturday," she said, and immediately bit her tongue. She hadn't planned on bringing that up.

"Yeah, I did manage to break your defenses a few times," he replied and her cheeks burned.

"Still, Gryffindor's ahead, hmm?" she said. "Ravenclaw's in the lead, though..."

"That's because they've only played Hufflepuff," he reassured her. "You'll trounce Ravenclaw, as will we. It's only a matter of by how many points."

"True." They reached another staircase, jumping a trick step as they went.

They continued the rest of the journey to Gryffindor tower in silence. When they finally pushed through the tapestry onto the seventh floor, Malfoy grabbed her hand and pulled her back before she could continue on to the portrait hole.

"Stay out of this corridor tonight," he said. "Lily, I mean it."

Lily stared at him. His solemn expression was cut with glaring sunlight from a window showing the sunset. One half of his face was glowing, the other pale; his hair was golden on one side and white blonde on the other. One eye sparkled with flecks of gold and green and the other was a dark gray looking solemnly down at her.

His thumb traced her life line before he let go of her hand. "Goodnight."

Lily waited until he had disappeared back behind the tapestry before she let her jaw drop.

When she had first met Scorpius Malfoy he had been cynical, argumentative, and horribly mocking. He sneered frequently and enjoyed goading her into losing her temper. She recalled him following her to class and scorning her father and everything he stood for, and then defending his own father's actions. What on earth had happened to him since then?

She'd challenged his knowledge of his father's actions during the war...and three days later he was accompanying her to Hogsmeade and asking about her favorite Quidditch team. After George's confrontation, though...

"I am not my father." And he was trying his damnest to prove it.