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Sleep didn't come easy that night, despite all of the factors that should have culminated in a heavy, deep rest—one Piper thought she had earned, after such a long day. She fought for a wink of sleep, tossing and turning so hard in her bed that Marlene had mumbled over to her in the middle of the night and asked if Piper had someone else in her bed with her because there was no way Piper could possibly be making so much noise by herself.
Piper had only waved her off, and Marlene fell asleep within a blink. To add salt to wound, a snore echoed from behind Lily's bed curtains. Piper curled her lip in frustration and whirled herself over onto her other side, burrowing her face into her pillow, much too angry now to do much of anything besides think about how angry she was. And that, of course, did nothing to help her fall asleep. It became a brutal process, and before she knew it, the window above the desk at the foot of her bed was illuminated the striking blue of an early-morning sun.
All just to say—the next morning wasn't Piper's brightest. Especially not once she realized the day's agenda.
"Page forty-three, please," Flitwick's squeaky voice called from the front podium of the classroom. The elvish voice of the little man merged with the atrocious natural lighting of the Charms classroom and the ceaseless whispering of the two boys at Piper's side were all elements for disaster, and she clocked them immediately—if anything were to go wrong in this class period, she knew she could blame her surroundings.
As though doing it on purpose to really drive home the fact that Piper's old best mate had moved on from her, James and Sirius spoke to each other in quick, hushed voices, possibly planning a prank to pull off for the evening or perhaps just talking for the sake of having things to say. Merlin knew either option was remarkably viable.
"What are we learning today, Professor?" said Lily, raising her hand. Nobody rolled their eyes this time around—by seventh year, all her classmates knew she would always be the one who cared most about her academics in any room.
"Well, first thing," said Flitwick, leaning his shore forearms onto the wooden podium to stare down at his students, "I wanted to make clear that each of you finished your essays from the last class?"
Like clockwork, every single student (besides Lily Evans) let out a chorus of groans, their heads falling back in shame and frustration. How it was possible for the Gryffindors, after sevenyears of it, to entirely forget about an entire paper due the following class—nobody quite understood. But between Quidditch (which Lily was not a part of) or their party the night prior (at which Lily did not consume nearly as much alcohol), the attention of the other Gryffindors was swept away from trivial classes like Charms. It wasn't even a N.E.W.T. level course, either—just regular old Charms. They all took it not for academics but for how easy Flitwick let them off for forgetting work.
"Psst," came a figure from Piper's side, and she heard the creaking of a desk as James Potter leaned much too close to her than necessary, as if trying to let her in on a big secret. "Finn! It's me, James!"
