Jily | I Can't Love Him

The Lonely Broomstick

The next month flew by in a flash. Jackie's birthday came and went, and suddenly Autumn was in full swing. Lily found herself hauled up in the library for longer and longer each week, often accompanied by Marlene, Remus or Alice, who would sit beside her, quill flying across parchment or silently immersed in a textbook.

One frigid Thursday morning, posted in the common room amongst announcements for assorted club meetings, the next Quidditch training, class cancellations, and a note about a lost Remembrall, was a notice announcing the first Hogsmeade trip of the year.

"Frank's asked me to Hogsmeade," Alice gushed as she, Marlene and Lily made their way to the library after dinner that same day.

"What—just now?" Marlene asked, eyebrows shooting towards her hairline.

"Yeah. During pudding."

Lily grinned, knocking shoulders with the shorter girl. "That's great, Alice."

Alice giggled. "I think so too. Though, I'll have to tell Mary that I can't go to Honeydukes with her anymore; maybe Frank will go with us..." Alice frowned at the dilemma, disappearing into her thoughts as the three girls neared the library corridor.

"Evans, wait up!"

The girl in question glanced over her shoulder. At the end of the first-floor corridor, a tall seventh-year Ravenclaw with dark features had reached the top of the marble staircase. Lily came to a halt. "Er—I'll find you in the library," she said to her friends.

Alice and Mary nodded, "Okay," and hurried round the corner, glancing over their shoulders at the Ravenclaw as they went.

"Anthony Gibson," she declared, eyeing the seventh-year questioningly as he reached her. "What can I do for you?"

He flashed her a brilliant smile. "I was hoping to speak with you."

Her mind flashed with every conceivable thing Anthony Gibson—Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, seventh-year, Hogwarts Pretty Boy—could possibly want to speak to her about. NEWT Potions, which she knew he took, possibly. Quidditch? Highly unlikely; Marlene had been with her and just moments ago and he hadn't stopped her. Perhaps Mimi MacDonald, Mary's twin sister? Well, that was a stretch. She tilted her head. "I'm all ears."

"Well,"—he rubbed the back of his neck—"I was wondering if you have any plans for the Hogsmeade trip?"

Lily shook her head. "No. Not really."

"Good. Good."

That received a tilt of the head and a quirked eyebrow.

"For me, at least. I sorta fancy you, see. And I was hoping I could, maybe, buy you a drink?"

Lily smiled despite herself. "Sure. That sounds nice."

Anthony grinned. "The Three Broomsticks at ten o'clock?"

"Ten o'clock. I'll see you there."

"Yeah, see you." He flashed his bright smile once more and, with a wave, strode back down the corridor.

---

Time the following day could not have possibly moved any slower. The first three periods were painstaking. Even lunch dragged on. Fourth period found Lily in Herbology repotting an ill-tempered Fanged Geranium.

"Try to be gentle with your geraniums," Professor Sprout, who had swapped her usual pointed hat for an incredibly long scarf, called out to the class. "Now, if you accidentally snap a branch off, we can stick it in some soil, and it should be alright..."

Slow rain began to pitter-patter on the panes of Greenhouse Two as Lily shovelled dragon dung compost into a terracotta pot. She was eyeing her geranium, which, according to Sprout, was particularly rootbound and, therefore, especially cranky.