The Lion and the Lily

Chapter Two

There was light, and there was darkness, and there were colors. I opened my eyes, and the world seemed to shift like a kaleidoscope. I felt languid, and heavy, and so very, very tired.

"Lily?"

The voice sounded like it were accustomed to being rough, and were having a hard time being gentle, though its owner was trying.

"Mmmmmm," I managed to say.

"Lily." This voice was having an easier time being gentle.

The world focused for one brief second, and I saw Remus Lupin hovering above me, but the effort was too much. I closed my eyes again.

"Wake up, Evans," said the first voice, having given up on trying to be gentle. I recognized it instantly as Sirius Black. I was prodded on the side.

"Ow," I said. "That hurt."

"Well, get up and eat something, or you'll faint again," said Sirius matter-of-factly. "God, I hate fainting females."

I sat up at this. My head spun, and the world spun with it, but for all that I managed to glare at him. I had never really liked Sirius. Too full of himself.

"Shut up, Black," I said, crossly. I put a hand to my forehead.

"Here," said Remus, reaching into his pockets and pulling out a bar of chocolate. He handed it to me. "It'll make you feel better."

He smiled as he gave it to me. I felt my lips curving in response. He had a nice smile. I bit into the chocolate.

He was right. It did make me feel better. As I munched contentedly on the sweet, creamy bar, I assessed my surroundings.

I was in the train compartment I had fainted in. On either side of me sat Sirius Black and Remus Lupin; Petter Pettigrew and James Potter were nowhere in sight. Sirius seemed a trifle uncomfortable in my presence, which I found amusing, as he usually flirted and bantered with anyone in skirts; his black hair, standing on end, looked like he had combed it with a rake. Remus seemed genuinely concerned with my welfare; his eyes and smile were gentle. I had often watched him from afar, and I had wished we could be friends. I knew I could get along with him very well - he was sensitive to others, discerning of their troubles, glad when they were glad and sorrowful in their sorrows. I had seen him read poetry, the same old masters that I loved; I had watched him walk alone under the night stars as I had often done. But I was too shy, and the popularity of his friends intimidated me too much for me to make any advances in friendship.

"Feeling better?" asked Remus kindly. His eyes were brown and soft. He was handsome in a refined, boyish way; not arrogant like Sirius, or roguishly good looking, like James, but quietly self-assured.

I nodded, searching for something to wipe my sticky fingers on. Sirius, looking exceedingly unhappy now, conjured a tissue for me.

"James and Peter went to get you some things to eat," continued Remus. "You ought to eat breakfast, Lily, it's unhealthy to skip meals."

I hadn't eaten because I had overslept that morning, and by the time I had waken there was no time for anything but throwing my trunks into the car and setting off, as London was nearly four hours from where I lived. But I wasn't about to tell him that, so I just nodded.

The compartment door flew open, and James and Peter walked. They were carrying enough food to feed an army, and I hoped my stomach would not grumble at the smell.

No such luck. The boys were, however, too polite to comment. I blushed with mortification as Peter handed me a sandwich. I rather liked Peter - a shy, timid, mousy thing, always found in the shadow of his bigger and cleverer friends. He was inclined to heaviness, and while it might have been repulsive on another boy, it made him look rather like an adorable toddler. I managed to smile as I took the sandwich from him, and he lowered his head and scurried away to sit next to Remus.

Lunch was very awkward. The boys chatted and joked with each other, but I sensed the strain they felt in my presence. At first I merely ate and studied them. Remus, I saw, withheld himself from their conversation, watching the other three with an amused half-smile. I took a deep breath, gathered up my courage, and ventured a tentative question.

"You enjoy reading Tennyson?"

I sounded stilted even to my own ears, but Remus merely smiled and nodded. "Very much so."

Encouraged, I asked again, "You're reading Idylls of the King, aren't you?"

"Yes. Have you read it yourself?"

I nodded.

"Did you like it?"

For a second, I hesitated. Then I threw caution to the wind. ""Fairly well, but I detest Arthur."

Remus laughed. I found myself thinking that he should laugh more.

"Tell me about it."

My tongue loosened at his interested air. "If I had been Guinevere," I said, "I would have boxed his ears - but I wouldn't have been unfaithful to him for Lancelot - who is odious in his own way." I grew more and more passionate as I went on. "As for Geraint, if I had been Enid I would have bitten him."

Remus laughed again. "And he would have deserved it," he agreed, grinning.

"What do you find so amusing, Remus, my friend?" asked James, flinging himself irreverently down onto the seat beside me.

"Lily and I are discussing poetry." Remus stood up and stretched. "I'll be right back," he said, walking outside. I watched as the compartment door slammed shut, feeling strangely lonely again.

"You like poetry, too?" I had forgotten that James was beside me. My heart picked up speed, and I nodded without looking at him, silent once more. He grinned at me. I couldn't resist; I grinned back. "I'll tell you a secret," he said, and bent forward. I repressed a shiver when his lips brushed my ear. His hair was tickling my cheek. He whispered, "Remus writes poetry. Darned good poetry, too. Ask him to show it to you someday. But keep his secret."

"If it's a secret," I said, coldly, drawing away, "you shouldn't have told me."

"He wouldn't mind you knowing," answered James, seriously. "You would understand better than most people. And I bet you can keep a secret better than most girls, as well."

I looked at him, strangely affected by his praise. But before I could speak Remus came back again, and James drew away from me again.

It was the most pleasant afternoon I had had in a very long time. We talked of many things, James and Remus and I - poetry, and politics, and the latest discovery in magical science. Sirius and Peter had wandered off, obviously uncomfortable with me.

At half past three the compartment door slid open again. But it was neither Sirius nor Peter that walked in, but a tall, slim, blue-eyed Ravenclaw seventh year I knew by sight.

"James!" she exclaimed. "Remus! I was looking all over for you two."

She swept in, bending over and engulfing both boys in an affectionate hug. Then she nodded and smiled warmly at me.

"I'm Arabella Figg, James' third cousin. I'm in Ravenclaw." She held out a slim white hand. She was very pretty and her face was bright and lively and sincere.

I smiled back. In one brief second, I had made up my mind. This year was going to be different from the others, I vowed. I would overcome my shyness and I would make new friends and I would make this year count. I was nearly seventeen, and I was Head Girl. I was not ugly and I was clever and Arabella looked very friendly. Arabella looked as if she would like to be my friend.
"Hi," I said, taking her hand. "I'm Lily Evans."