The Other War // James Potter & Lily Evans

potions;

After their first period, James really realised how glad he was that he hadn't taken divination. He'd overheard a couple of other seventh years complaining about the way that Professor Trelawney ran her classes. Sirius and Peter, (who were the two who had convinced him not to take the class) snickered later at lunchtime when James brought it up.

"Apparently," James said. "She lost it half way through class and began to recite something like 'the powerful one vanquished the dark lord' or some other rubbish.

"I've told you, she's not a real seer, she doesn't have the sight, it's all bollocks. The woman is a fraud." Sirius said. Peter nodded and Remus shrugged.

"I don't know," Remus said. Remus was the one who tried to convince James to take divination. Like hell that was going to happen. But he stopped suggesting it when James asked him why he was so insistent that James take the class. "Maybe it was a real prophecy or something just-I don't know-a couple of centuries early?"

"You don't really believe that rubbish, do you, Remus? She's. A. Fraud. Everyone knows it. Even Dumbledore, but he refuses to fire her." Sirius replied. Remus nodded and went back to eating his chicken.

"Not to mention Mooney's little laughing incident this morning," Peter said, offering a new topic of conversation. Remus eyed him wearily.

"Let's not bring that up again," he said exasperatedly. Peter laughed, his eyes crinkling. The food before them vanished and they took that as their cue to stumble lazily out of the hall and down to the dungeons. The Slytherins snickered as they passed, but unspoken truces kept conflict at bay. The four of them swaggered into the seconds potions classroom where few students were already gathered and chatting lightly. Lily Evans sat by herself, nose buried in a tattered book she must have borrowed from the library. James sauntered over to Lily's bench, where she had already prepared the base for her potion-which was absurd, because James didn't even know what potion they were brewing.

"The Draught of Loving Death." Lily said flatly as if reading James's mind. James nodded slowly, choosing not to question how Lily knew that, and Lily rolled her eyes, averting them to the door in which Professor Slughorn had just strode through. James quietly shrunk into the stool next to Lily as Slughorn pulled out his wand and Lily glanced at James with dark eyes. He felt his heart flip despite the fact that she wasn't even looking at him with friendly eyes.

Slughorn smiled widely. "I hope that we all had a brilliant break from school." He said it so it sounded more like a question rather than a statement. James could feel his stamina draining already. It was going to be a long class. The pudgy Professor hobbled over to the bench behind him and pulled the lid off one of the cauldrons that was happily bubbling on its own and immediately, a drowsy aura filled the room.

"Who," Slughorn began too enthusiastically. "Who can identify this particular brew?" Unsurprisingly, Lily's hand shot up first, and as usual, Slughorn called on Lily, overlooking the fact that there were several other people in the room who knew the answer, Snape one of them.

"A draught of living death," she said quickly.

"Ah, absolutely correct!" He cried. "This is an example of what we will be brewing in today's class." He picked up a small red leaf and dropped it into the cauldron. Without the smallest crinkle, the leaf curled into itself and dissolved into the dead black liquid like it was never there. A chorus of oohs echoed around the dungeon. "You will be working in designated threes and must have the preparation done before the class concludes." He pointed to one of the freckled Slytherins. "Greenberg, I want you working with Phillips and Inkerman. Pettigrew, with Lupin and Potter. Henrison and Black, you can work with Watson..."

Sirius looked at James with desperate eyes but James only chucked and turned his back. From the corner of his eye he saw Sirius clutch his heart and collapse onto the bench top.

James turned his attention to Remus who was already preparing his Sopophorus beans and Peter had pulled out some Valerian roots to chop up and James felt useless. He was never good at potions, he never excelled in anything but flying and Defence Against The Dark Arts. And maybe charms.

It happened so quickly that James almost didn't notice Remus's face turn an unhealthy shade of white and clutch his head in pain. Thankfully, Peter acted quickly.

"Professor," he squeaked, pointing at Remus who had tears forming in his eyes. The underside of his hand was covered in a purplish white powder and he kept doing his best to bat it away. "Remus has a bad migraine, Professor, can I take him to the infirmary to see Madame Pomfrey?" Slughorn nodded, eyebrows knitted in worry.

"Yes, yes," he said. "Stay with him." And Peter and Remus left the classroom without a word.

James, unsurprisingly, hadn't lifted a finger to help all lesson and now that Remus and Peter were both relying on James to complete their potion, the pressure on his shoulders seemed to double. But upon seeing the look of doubt and nervousness on James's face, Slughorn sighed and gave in.

"You may work with Lily Evans," he said, almost reluctantly and he strode over to James's cauldron, smelling the concoction. "Hm," the professor said slowly, quietly. "Wolfsbane."

Lily seemed to shrink as James climbed back into the seat beside her, peering into her cauldron - which, unlike his own, contained a flawless brew - with a curious expression. His eyes seemed to blur as he inhaled the dark fumes that radiated off the glassy surface. He looked around at the classroom. The dead smell bounced around the room from cauldron to cauldron like a tennis ball yet James seemed to be the only one to be being visibly affected by it.

On the far side of the classrooms, near the student supply cupboard, Severus Snape worked by himself, his greasy hair falling over a long nose and almost scraping the surface of his own perfect concoction. As he went, he constantly scribbled in his text book, crossing things out, trialling them. It was a peculiar sight and James felt a guilty satisfaction in watching his frustrated expression when he potion bubbled over and his relieved one when he brought it back down. He watched as Snape reached for another Sopophorus bean and cut it open with ease, then pause, toss the bean in the rubbish and pull another one out. But this time, instead of chopping it, he used the blade of his knife to crush the bean before dripping the juice into the cauldron. He smiled smugly to himself and scribbled his newly found tip into the margin of his tattered textbook.

James grumbled and turned back around where Lily had already finished brewing the potion without him and sat, reading quietly.

James stared at her and began to contemplate why he had fallen head over heels in such deep love with her. She was beautiful, fiery red hair and startling green, almond shaped eyes only wrote half of the story. It was peculiar, because he had fallen in love with her. Despite the fact that all she ever did was scold him and tell him off and roll her eyes at him and nod scowl at him, he got a kick out of it-it reminded him that wether Lily liked it or not, she knew he existed. It was more of her personality, her laugh, the way her nose kind of scrunched up when she said an emphasised word, Lily Evans in her entirety is what James had fallen in love with because in his eyes, she was fantastic.

"What are you looking at?" She grumbled, turning to James noticing his scrutinising gaze. He scratched at the back of his neck and smirked lopsidedly.

"You," he grinned.