Chapter Text
Lily crossed the Great Hall quickly and alone, her shoes clacking angrily on the stone floor. By her humble estimation, she had about ten minutes to scarf down some breakfast before making a hasty commute down to the dungeons for Potions.
This was hardly her choice in early morning circumstances – late and lonely, that is – but there were a great many things in life that happened to her without her consent, like Transfiguration first thing on Monday mornings, or mint flavored desserts, or cancer, so this was hardly anything different.
She took a seat at the near-empty Gryffindor table and eyed the pitiful remains of what she presumed had once been a wide selection of breakfast items sadly.
Toast would have to do.
She slathered the toast blandly with marmalade, trying to turn off her brain. She beat back the snippets of the letter Mum had sent, but they popped back up relentlessly – We’ve learned some bad news, darling… Not to worry, he just needs a few rounds of treatment, the doctors are optimistic… It’s nothing to spend too long worrying about, sweetheart, I just wanted you to know…
She didn’t want to think about it, anymore. She’d spent all of last night thinking about it, which had run into this morning, which had run into her abnormally long shower, which had meant she was horribly late to breakfast.
It was as Lily was decidedly not thinking about it that she saw a nimble finger catch hold of one of her remaining pieces of toast, sliding it deftly off her plate. Her eyes followed the finger up a thin forearm, past a knobby elbow, up to the grinning face and shining specs of James Potter, who winked and took a bite of her toast, no shame.
“Are you lost ?” she asked, eyeing the smug look on his face distastefully.
James Potter, her fellow Gryffindor second year and resident mischief maker, had taken to doing this sort of thing a lot lately – slipping into her conversations, sliding blithely into seats next to her, staring obviously when he thought she wasn’t looking. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it; what exactly he was playing at. She couldn’t shake the sense that she was the butt of some elaborate joke.
She and Potter hadn’t had much to do with each other last year, beyond the initial altercation she and Sev had had with him on the Hogwarts Express. In fact, she’d come to the conclusion that she didn’t like him very much at all by the end of last year – he was far too pleased with himself, far too boastful, far too loud.
So it was perhaps with a bit more venom than usual that she sized him up, feeling that of all the things she had patience for this morning, James Potter was very low on the list indeed.
“Don’t think so,” replied James, still munching merrily away at her toast.
“ I think the people who tolerate your thievery are over there, actually,” she said, pointing over her shoulder to where, indeed, Potter’s three best mates were cloistered together halfway down the table. “You’ve taken a wrong turn.”
“Nah,” Potter grinned, waving her toast as if by way of explanation. “I’m here for scientific purposes, see?”
“Conducting a toast experiment, are you?” she replied wryly.
“It’s the only way to settle things,” Potter said, as though this explained everything.
“I suppose you’d like me to ask what you’re settling?” she replied in a bored voice as she examined the piece of bacon on her plate and ripped off a particularly fatty piece.
“You see,” said James, bandying her toast about perilously and ignoring her obvious sarcasm, “Sirius reckons toast is best with butter. I’m partial to raspberry jam, myself. Remus, the nutter, likes beans on toast, but he likes homework , so his opinion is a bit mad to begin with…”
She raised a sardonic eyebrow. “Fascinating.”
“Pete won’t choose a side. I told him, Pete, you’ve got to back yourself and your toast preferences –”
“—terribly important lesson—”
“—but you know Pete. He refused to vote.”
“The nerve,” she deadpanned.
“So I’m settling the debate,” Potter declared, holding her toast in front of her face triumphantly. “Trying all possible toast combinations. It’s the only fair way.”
Lily rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. “And that means you’ve had to steal my breakfast because…?”
“You’ve already spread the marmalade on,” he explained simply, taking another crunchy bite.
“Ah, and I suppose no one’s taught you to spread marmalade all by yourself?”
“No,” Potter replied sadly, heaving a great sigh as though he were incredibly put-upon. “They don’t teach things like that until third year Defense Against the Dark Tarts.”
The laugh escaped before she could contain it, frothing up unexpectedly like bubbles from a fizzy drink. “Defense Against the Dark Tarts? ”
Potter looked unreasonably pleased with himself, his eyes scanning her face as she laughed. “Oh yes, it’s one of our course options next year, didn’t you know? There are pamphlets and everything.”
“That’ll be dead useful, that will,” she agreed, snickering. “I suppose they’ll give us final examinations in marmalade spreading?”
“We’ll have to demonstrate a good Ex-pie-lliarmus .”
“Oh my—”
“The Crust iatus curse.”
“Stop—”
“The jelly-legs jinx will just fit right in there, won’t it?”
She was giggling madly now. “I’ll dazzle them with my ace Pe trifle us Totalas.”
Potter’s eyes lit up as he let out a loud guffaw and pointed at her dramatically. “Evans! You can’t do that!”
“What?” she asked, grinning widely.
“Come up with a better pun than me!”
She felt a swooping warmth fill her chest as he continued to chuckle appreciatively, feeling inexplicably proud of herself for making him laugh. “I suppose you’ll have some competition for top of DADT.”
“Ah Evans,” said Potter, who seemed overly elated by the whole exchange. “Bold of you to assume I’ll be tops, I can’t even spread marmalade.”
Lily snorted as she snatched back the toast he’d let dangle loosely in his hands, throwing it down on her plate for good measure. “Better get practicing then, hadn’t you? On your own toast .”
Potter grinned, but his reply was lost as the warning bell signaled that it was time to sprint to Potions. She gathered her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder as she slipped off the bench. She turned to find that Potter had made no attempt whatsoever to leave, and was instead staring at her with eager amusement.
“Planning to be late to Potions, are you?”
“Nah, I know a shortcut,” he said, throwing his chest out as though this were an incredibly impressive thing to say.
“Of course you do,” she replied, though perhaps with less irritation than she might have done five minutes prior. Potter had been an unexpectedly nice distraction from a morning that had promised bleak at best. She didn’t quite have the wherewithal to express such a thing to him, so she settled on a small, “Well, see you,” wringing the straps of her backpack for want of something better to do with her hands.
“You could walk with me. I’d show you the shortcut,” Potter said eagerly, still making no move to leave.
The offer startled her. The sense that she was left out of some joke settled over her again. She and Potter weren’t mates, they didn’t walk to class together. Lily snuck a glance at Potter’s friends, who were still seated at the table and now gaping openly at their exchange with varying degrees of amusement. A thought struck her, and she smiled. “I’m not stupid, Potter,” she replied.
Potter appeared genuinely confused, but Lily knew better. “What?”
“What’ll you and your mates do to me if I come with you?” she answered. “Get me caught in a trick stair? Trapped in a pile of marshmallows?”
“Wha—no!” answered Potter, sounding increasingly alarmed. “Of course we wouldn’t – well, not to y—”
“See you in Potions, Potter!” she called happily over her shoulder as she made to leave, victorious in having figured him out. “Let me know if you manage to trick anyone on the way!”
“See you,” she heard him call after her retreating form, sounding mildly defeated that she hadn’t fallen for it.
She walked to Potions quickly, feeling much lighter than she had done since opening her mum’s letter in the evening post. There was a strange, swirling feeling in her chest as she hurried, an idea percolating in the back of her mind as she trotted down several staircases and finally took her seat next to Sev in the dungeon classroom.
It wasn’t until the very end of the lesson, when Potter said something else ridiculous about his hair in that annoyingly charismatic way he had, and her lips pulled up into a small smile against her will, that the idea finally solidified into words.
James Potter is funny .
He was annoying and arrogant and attention-seeking and almost definitely playing some sort of elaborate prank on her, but he was funny.
The thought irritated her, somehow, like his ability to make her laugh was a chink in the armored defense she had set against him.