Lily Evans and the Quidditch Captain

Chapter 3 - Mud in the Trunk

To her chagrin, Lily found it impossible to pay attention during the start-of-year feast, her mind preoccupied with Petunia, her parents, Snape, and, she had to admit, McKinnon and Potter. She watched the Sorting with a vacant expression, barely noticing the first-years who joined the table, and only a soft kick from Janet alerted her when food appeared on their plates. Not even Dumbledore's welcoming speech managed to stay in her head, sliding out again to be replaced by a screaming, horsy-faced older sister. Only the clamor of the students pushing back from their tables at the end of the feast finally woke Lily from her reverie. She realized with a start that the unfamiliar group of first-years heading toward her were her responsibility.

Lily was forced to be glad of Potter's presence, because, having retrieved the password from McGonagall, he then gathered all the young ones together himself and began a loud narrative of all the features of the castle as he led them out the hall, up the stairs, and down the confusing corridors. "Now, don't try to memorize where you're going," he said briskly, leading them down a sixth-floor corridor, "it's completely useless. You'll be hopelessly lost for the first two weeks, nothing you can do about it." Everyone exchanged worried looks.

"Ah, here we are," said Potter, when they finally arrived at the Fat Lady's portrait. "Everyone, the new password is "Gulping Gargoyles." The Fat Lady nodded affably, swinging open and to reveal the Gryffindor Common Room. The first-years whispered excitedly as they stepped through the portrait hole.

Once inside, Potter took command of the (rather rowdy looking) boys, leaving the girls to Lily. Putting on a smile, she introduced herself and led them up the girls' staircase to the third level, where their dormitory was located.

When Lily had (somewhat absently) ensured the girls were well settled, she went down one level to the second dormitory, which was marked for seventh-years. Feeling her head and body were tied in knots, she wondered if she'd be able to drop straight into bed without much fuss.

Apparently not. The minute she opened the door, Tilda and Janet pounced, barraging her with questions on the two people she least wanted to talk about at the moment.

"Is it true Snape attacked you?" cried Tilda, her hair flying in all directions as she leapt from her bed. "In front of everyone?"

Janet sat bolt upright on her own bed. "And Potter is the new Head Boy!" She smiled slyly. "Lucky you."

"Oh, yes, lucky me," sighed Lily, dragging herself across the room and flopping onto the third bed of four. Doreen's bed was empty; she must still be downstairs chatting.

"What did Snape do?" continued Tilda, seemingly blind to Lily's weariness.

"Nuffeen, nuffeen," came Lily's voice, muffled by a pillow. She rolled over. "Just tripped me and called me a bad name. First-year tricks, really."

"Bastard," said Janet carelessly. She had clambered off her bed and was now rummaging through her trunk, tossing various items onto the bed and the floor. Lily thought of her own trunk, then brushed the thought aside. She'd sleep now and wake up early to unpack.

"You reported him, didn't you?" pressed Tilda.

"Oh, damn," groaned Lily. "I knew I'd forgotten something."

"I'm not surprised," said Janet, voice slightly thin as she stuck her entire head into the trunk. "You were off daydreaming during the feast, it's a wonder you remembered to come up here when it finished." She emerged triumphantly, brandishing a pair of scissors, which she then spelled to trim the edges of her feathery hair. "I wonder," she said above the soft snips of the scissors, "if you weren't thinking of a certain Quidditch Captain?"

Lily hesitated, wondering how to avoid incrimination on both sides. Then she said, "I hardly think anyone's flying techniques would keep my mind occupied for more than two minutes."

Janet flashed another smile. "Well, it wasn't flying techniques I was speaking of. Though if he's able with a broom..."

Lily blushed furiously, refusing to finish that thought in her head.

"Come on," Janet insisted, "just admit you'd shag him, I certainly would."

"Janet!" cried Lily, sitting up in bed. Tilda dropped the robes she'd been sorting.

Janet's scissors stopped snipping. "Come on, both of you," she said, her voice suddenly humorless. "We're seventeen years old, don't you think we can stop acting like we don't know what a good bang feels like? Tilda!" for Tilda had gasped, "d'you think you can stop being a grandmother long enough act your age?"

Lily sat in the awkward silence for a moment, then said carefully, "Janet...it's...well...I mean, you've always joked, but...I always assumed that with Daniel...but you never talked about it. You've just never mentioned it so...casually before."

Janet lay on her stomach, tucking a pillow under her chest. "Yeah, well, I figure...I don't know. With everything that's going on out in the world, it just seems such a silly thing to lie about, or cover up, or pretend we don't want or need or like or...I don't know. I'm tired of the way...I'm just tired, and I wish we didn't have to sit in this school and act like nothing out there is real."

Tilda had sat heavily on the edge of her bed, and was now gazing at the wall with a worried expression. Lily, again, let an uncomfortable silence fall. Janet, always talkative, rarely ventured into serious matters like this. Somber, troubled Janet was new territory, and Lily wasn't sure how to proceed.

"Janet," she said finally, "I agree. I don't understand why the professors all skirt around mentioning the Death Eaters whenever there's a disappearance. I don't understand why Defense class isn't a little more plain about preparing us for You-Know-Who. I don't know why we're all still at this school, except...except...I think the only thing we can do in times like these is keep on doing what we usually do, like riding the Hogwarts Train and watching Quidditch and shopping at Honeydukes. Because...well, because if we all stopped living and went underground to just hide, or something, they've won." Lily stopped...she'd lost the thread of what she was trying to say, and wasn't sure if she'd just been babbling.

Janet didn't respond, but after a few more long minutes, Lily heard the scissors start snipping again. Tilda began shaking out robes again. Lily turned and tried to doze, but somehow she was wide awake now.

"Ooo," said Tilda after a few minutes, finally breaking the silence, "did you bring that new thing with you...what's it called?"

"Oh, my guitar!" remembered Lily.

"What's a guitar?" asked Janet, face twisted into the mask of mock-distain whenever she heard about a new Muggle object.

"It's a Muggle instrument," replied Tilda. "We learned about them in Muggle Studies. They're really popular nowadays, aren't they? Anyway, it was Lily's Head Girl present from her parents."

Lily smiled at the thought of the instrument. She'd been playing her mother's guitar since she was quite small, but had never been allowed to take it to school with her...as if she had time to practice, anyway. But now she had her own little beauty, which she'd bewitched to be small enough to travel in a case in her trunk (she hadn't wanted to draw attention to it by carrying it openly outside her trunk).

"Let's see it then," prompted Tilda eagerly. Tilda loved all things Muggle; the only girl in Gryffindor taking Muggle Studies on the N.E.W.T. level. The month Tilda had visited Lily before their 6th year had been the happiest Lily had ever seen her. Her favorite morning activity had been operating the toaster, which Lily's parents had finally given her as a goodbye present at the end of the visit.

Janet rolled over onto her back, throwing her arms above her head. "Ugh, yes, I suppose we'll have to see this thing now. Let's get it over with."

Ignoring Janet, Lily knelt down next to her bed to open her trunk. The second she flipped the latches and cracked the lid open, however, their dormitory was clouded with a rancid, suffocating, stink.

"What the hell is that?" cried Janet, thrusting herself up on the bed.

Lily pushed back the trunk lid and almost retched. Her books, supplies, and robes, as well as her beloved guitar, were soaked in a bubbling, oozing, greenish-brown mud, which slopped immediately over the trunk's edge and onto the stone floor.

"Oh, that is foul," said Tilda, looking over Lily's shoulder and pressing her robes to her face.

Janet ran to the windows. "Clean it up!" she managed between gags.

"S-scourgify," coughed Lily, waving her wand. "SCOURGIFY!" The ooze bubbled evilly, undaunted by the magic.

"The smell won't leave!" said Janet frantically, opening the windows wider and trying to gulp some fresh air.

Tilda dashed to her own trunk and hauled out her Standard Book of Spells, flipping quickly to a list of cleaning spell variations. One by one she tried them, with no noticeable success. Meanwhile, more and more of the sludge oozed to the floor.

Finally, with a little agonized cry, Lily slammed the lid of the trunk shut (which did nothing to decrease the smell). "I'll have to take it to a teacher," she called to the other two through her muffling sleeve. "Stay here and try to get the mud off the floor, I'll find someone who can deal with this mess!" So saying, Lily did a quick levitating charm on the trunk and sailed it out of the room, down the stairs, and into the common room. Ignoring the shocked and disgusted cries of the few students still sitting by the fire, she chased the trunk through the portrait hole and out into the corridor. As she let the trunk fall to the ground, she heard the Fat Lady give a shriek of horror, and turned to see the Lady throw herself out of her portrait, dash through the other pictures lining the corridor, and then disappear around the corner.

"Great, that's just great," yelled Lily at the empty portrait, not caring who heard her. "Now I'll be trapped out here all night."

Two seconds later, the portrait swung open again, nearly cuffing Lily in the head. She dodged in time to see none other than James Potter, followed closely by Lupin and a sniggering Black.

"Lily!" cried Potter, immediately covering his mouth with his sleeve. "What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, nothing," she cried hysterically, "just thought I'd have a chat with the Fat Lady, who's just left, actually, so you'd better not leave if you don't want to be stuck out here until breakfast!"

At her distraught appearance, Lupin shied nervously back, followed by Black, but Potter stepped resolutely through the hole, letting the vacated portrait swing closed behind him.

"Oh, brilliant," Lily exclaimed, "just the two things I'd love to spend the night with, a stupid stinking trunk and Potter."

"Well," replied Potter calmly, though still through his sleeves, "one of those does sound rather unpleasant." And, taking out his wand, he performed a Bubble-Head Charm on his own head, then on Lily's; it immediately blocked all of the horrible smell from Lily's nose. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

Lily, breathing fresh air, refused to be thrown by this kind gesture. "Well, Potter, someone's obviously jinxed my trunk," she said bitingly. "I need to take it to Professor Flitwick, or whoever the hell can take the jinx off. So if you'll let me alone, I can get this down to him before all my worldly possessions are ruined forever."

"You know," said Potter, still quite calm, "I could get Flitwick for you, as I'm trapped out here anyway. You could take the trunk to his classroom and wait. I do know a good shortcut to the professors' quarters..."

Lily found it difficult to glare through a bubble. She had to admit, Potter probably did know the quickest ways through the entire castle, given how often he and his friends went out after dark, exploring and playing pranks. She looked at the trunk, at the mud threatening to creep out through the cracks, and made a decision. "Oh, fine, Potter, yes, I suppose you can help."

Not waiting for anything further, Potter flashed her a rather charming grin and dashed off down the hall.

Lily gave an uncharitable grunt, and once again charmed her trunk, this time not setting it down until she reached the Charms classroom. Shutting the door on it firmly, she stood out in the corridor and removed the Bubble-Head Charm; the blurry-vision effects were beginning to annoy her.

She had only waited a few minutes when she heard rapid footsteps, and Potter, breathless, appeared around the corner, also free from his Bubble Head Charm. "Flitwick's coming," he managed between breaths, "and McGonagall, too."

"Thanks," Lily replied grudgingly after a moment, "she'd better hear about this, too...I needed to talk to her earlier, anyway, and forgot."

"So," said Potter, recovering, "What exactly...happened to your trunk?"

Lily stopped herself from growling. "Someone filled it with mud."

"Mud?" repeated Potter. "Mud? What..." Then his eyes narrowed. "Mud!"

"Caught on, have you?" Lily asked sullenly, crossing her arms and leaning against the cold wall.

"That's disgusting," Potter spat. "That's really sick. I bet those Sly-"

He broke off as a McGonagall and Flitwick came around the corner as well.

"Miss Evans!" was McGonagall's greeting. "Potter informs me someone has bewitched your trunk." Her voice barely covered her anger that someone had dared to prank her Head Girl.

"It's inside," replied Lily, "but it's horrid, you'd better-"

McGonagall ignored her, pushing through the door, Flitwick close on her heals, the smell bombarding them in an instant. McGonagall gave a revolted cry, but Flitwick, thinking quickly, gave his wand a wave and evaporated the smell in an instant. Lily, stunned, cautiously entered the room, followed by Potter.

"Now," said Flitwick, opening the trunk.

The sludge still bubbled furiously. McGonagall's eyes widened, and Potter jumped back as the ooze once again spilled down the side of the trunk. Lily merely groaned at thought of her guitar, now surely ruined.

Flitwick merely gave a little "Hm," followed closely by, "I see." His little brows furrowed, and then he said, "Ah, yes, I remember." Then he spoke some thick, foreign-sounding words, and with a flourish of his wand, the steaming mess vanished.

"Thank you, Professor," Lily breathed in relief. She knelt again by her trunk. "D'you...do you think my things will be all right?" She touched the now-clean robe that lay on top, afraid to look beneath it.

"Oh, I don't think so," replied Flitwick. "The substance was more illusion and smell than it was actual...ah...substance. We should check, though, to be sure." And he lifted the topmost robe, revealing the tiny guitar. "Well now," he exclaimed, not hearing Lily's faint protest as he lifted the instrument out of the trunk. "This is a fine shrinking charm you've cast, Miss Evans. This is a Muggle instrument, is it not?"

"A...a guitar," Lily said faintly, blood creeping into her face.

Flitwick touched his wand to it and it expanded to its original size (which was almost as tall as Flitwick was). "Well, there doesn't seem to be any damage. Here," he said, handing the guitar to her, "look over it." Then he dove back into the trunk, again oblivious to Lily's distress. "Oh, here's something!" And he pulled out Lily's treasured collection of records. "Well, these look all right."

"What are those, Miss Evans?" asked McGonagall, eyeing the unfamiliar objects warily.

"Albums," mumbled Lily.

"They make Muggle music," said Potter, jumping in. "On these Muggle machines that spin them round. We learned about them in Muggle Studies a few years ago."

McGonagall frowned. "Surely you didn't bring one of those machines here, Miss Evans! You must know they don't work inside Hogwarts."

"I know..." said Lily reluctantly. She brought her favorite albums with her every year, whether she could listen to them or not--she just liked having them with her. She blushed again, feeling as if they had caught her with an old blanket or shabby teddy bear.

"Hey, the Beatles!" cried Potter, who had somehow gotten a hold of the stack. "They're good!"

Lily stared.

He said casually, "I did a paper on them for Muggle Studies, they're quite popular, aren't they?"

"As it is late," McGonagall cut in dryly, "I shall return the subject to Miss Evans' trunk, rather than her collection of Muggle music. Miss Evans, do you have any idea who could have done this?"

"Well, I suppose it could have been anyone," Lily had to admit. "My trunk was fair game the whole time I was patrolling. But...I think it could have been Snape, actually."

"Severus?" asked McGonagall. "It's possible, but...I know the boy is rather nasty to Gryffindors on the whole, but he has never targeted you, Miss Evans."

"He attacked me earlier today," she said firmly, letting her eyes flick momentarily to Potter's surprised face. "He called me a Mudblood. I docked him points and said you'd give him detention. I forgot to tell you at the feast, I'm sorry."

McGonagall's lips pressed into a hard, thin line. "Well," she said finally, "I shall see him about detention, at least. And I shall inform Dumbledore of this." At Lily's protest, she said, "No, this is just the kind of thing Dumbledore should hear about. Now," she said, sending the albums out of Potter's hands and into the trunk with a flick of her wand, "it is late, and you two should return to the tower." She shut the lid of Lily's trunk and levitated it out of the room again. Potter and Flitwick followed, with Lily bringing up the rear, still clutching her precious guitar.

As Lily pulled the door shut behind her, McGonagall suddenly turned and said, "Oh, Miss Evans, have you considered setting charms of protection on your possessions? Potter, this wouldn't hurt you, either. Head Boy and Girl are, if I'm not mistaken, subject to many attempts of this sort throughout the year."

Lily looked down. She hadn't even thought of that.

"Oh, I have just the book." Flitwick gave a little hop and scurried back into the classroom, reappearing a few moments later with a tall, thin volume. "Miss Evans, you and Mr. Potter may borrow this and practice with it. Let me know if you need any help."

"Thanks, Professor Flitwick!" said Lily, looking it over eagerly. She loved new charms of all kinds.

McGonagall shooed the two students on their way, Lily carrying only her guitar and the book, Potter having taken it on himself to levitate her trunk himself.

Once the professors were out of sight, Potter spoke. "So that slimy git attacked you? When did this happen?"

"Outside the carriages, while you were laughing with those friends of yours," replied Lily impatiently.

"Why didn't you call me, I could've-"

"Please, Potter," she snapped, "Like I need your help defending myself. Not everyone needs your precious wand to get them out of trouble. It's all right, we handled it.

Potter stopped in his tracks. "We?"

Lily could have bitten her tongue off. Then, spontaneously, she threw discretion to the wind. "Yeah, we. Me and McKinnon. He chased Snape off for me. That all right? Or do we all need to ask for your permission before we tell Snape to sod off?" She kept walking.

"Oh," said Potter, following her, "so he's trying to be Head Boy now, is he?"

"No, he's not," Lily replied furiously, "but now that you mention it, maybe that's not such a bad idea, he'd probably actually do his job."

"Brilliant, that's brilliant," said Potter sarcastically, his voice raising dangerously. "Why don't I just hand over my badge now?"

"Yeah," retorted Lily, also taking her voice up a few pitches, "do you want to give it to him, or shall I?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll give h-" started Potter, but broke off when someone shrieked ahead of them. They looked to see the Fat Lady, back in her portrait and fuming.

"When you've finished screaming at each other, let me know!" she cried, and with a huff, she once again vanished from her portrait.

"No, please," called Lily after her, desperately, "wait!"

But the Lady moved remarkably quickly considering her size, whizzing through the neighboring portraits and once again rounding the corner. Lily and Potter stood once more before a vacated portrait.