Up To No Good

Chapter Nineteen

[Fixing some major formatting issues]

The Three Broomsticks was abuzz with people. It was the weekend, and many of the tables were full. James allowed Lily to walk in front of him as he searched over the many students' heads for a place to sit. Eventually they found one: a pair of dingy old cushions in a corner, where James sat as Lily went to order butterbeer.

James was never one to feel awkward, but as he sat at the small table by himself, his mind was whirling. For years he had tried unsuccessfully to ask Lily out, but she had always turned him down without hesitation. Even though he had desperately wanted it, who couldn't help but wonder what had prompted her to change her mind.

She returned, her bright red hair making her highly visible despite the crowd. She carried two large flagons of butterbeer topped with cheery pale foam and sat them on the table. She smiled at him, albeit a bit awkwardly, and took her seat.

James grabbed his drink in both hands and took a deep swig, wondering where to start. He had a lot of ideas, but was hoping he wouldn't accidentally hit a nerve regarding Snape. Luckily, he didn't have to hope for long, as she spoke first.

"You know," she began, grasping for her butterbeer thoughtfully, "I'm a bit surprised they didn't make you Quidditch captain this year."

James's heart fluttered a bit. "Yeah," he grinned. "Maybe they felt bad for the other Houses."

"I wouldn't think so. You're not exactly popular among the other teams," Lily informed him. "Especially--"

"Slytherin," James nodded. "I know. It doesn't faze me."

Lily laughed. "They know that. Some of them really give me the creeps. They say things that make me think their parents might be sympathizers of..." she trailed off a bit, "You-Know-Who." 

Day by day, people became more afraid of Voldemort. His gradual rise to power had people so on edge that even saying his name, or hearing others say it, was frightening. James knew this, but he found it irrationally frustrating. It was just a name, after all. Even Dumbledore said Voldemort's name.

"Padfoot's cousin is a Slytherin," James agreed. "She's just like that. All this blood purity talk is rubbish, in my opinion."

In fifth year, James had been with his friends when Snape had called Lily a mudblood. He hardly remembered the context, only the blinding, pure rage he felt afterwards. He had confronted Snape, of course, demanding an apology. They had never spoken of it to each other since, and James thought he could tell that she was remembering it.

Lily was Muggle-born, and mudblood was a terrible word to call someone with Muggle parents. It meant "dirty blood." Proud as he was, James could never understand the whole business of blood purity, especially considering Voldemort and his idea of a world that was entirely magical. 

"I agree," Lily nodded, not quite looking him in the eye. "Most people don't care, but I know Slughorn was quite surprised when he found out I don't have magical parents."

Slughorn. He was known for having favorite students, and Lily was without a doubt one of them. But he was a pureblood too, and this didn't quite surprise him.

"He throws parties for his favorite students," Lily went on. "He's really quite kind, but honestly," she stifled a laugh, "it's a bit much."

"Maybe I'd be in it if I didn't break rules all the time," James shrugged. "My grades are probably the only thing keeping me here."

Lily laughed. "Only thing is, Sev's in it too--" 

"Sev?"

Lily flushed, taking a sip of butterbeer. "Severus," she corrected herself. "We don't talk much anymore. I often sit with him during breaks when he's alone, but I can't help but feel it's only pity at this point. He's changing. I don't agree with the people he is friends with, and now that I know what he thinks of my heritage it's not the same. That," she looked up, "and the wild theories he has about your friends and the Shrieking Shack."