Chapter Text
I am what I am, an’ I’m not ashamed. ‘Never be ashamed,’ my old dad used too say,
‘there’s some who’ll hold it against you, but they’re not worth botherin’ with.’”
– Rubeus Hagrid, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
“So?” I looked out of the windshield as James walked away from the house, towards the cars parked on both sides of the road. At that moment I thought he and his friends really seemed to live in Superbad. “Did he say anything about me while I was changing?”
“In fact, yes.” He put the arrow to turn. “And it'll probably piss you off.”
“Oh God,” I took a look at his profile, preparing for the worst. “What?”
She sped up to change lanes, “Let's say it's very clear that she still thinks of you as little Lilith.”
'And what should this mean?'
His mouth curved slightly, but he kept his eyes on the road, “Oh, come on.”
“I'm serious. What? I mean, do you think I'm still going to elementary school?”
She made one of those smiles to the 'I shouldn't smile but' and said, 'She still sees you as a lovely weird little girl, that's it.'
“Oh my God - are you kidding?” I stared at his grin and got a great desire to punch him, "Why would he find me weird, sorry? I was super charming until your girlfriend thought right to throw up on me.”
“That's not it.” Her smile faltered as she gave me a quick look “it's just that he takes it for granted that you're the same as always, because she hasn't seen you for years.”
“I've never been an adorable weird little girl.”
Here's the grin, “Oh come on, Evans.”
I thought back to the old days in the neighbourhood, “No, never been”
“Instead yes. You made up songs all the time, about anything. Terrifying songs, without even rhymes.”
“I was a creative little girl.” Of course, I was less athletic and more theatrical than the others, but that's not why I was a weirdo. “And that was my personal soundtrack.”
“You invented lies about your alleged boyfriends.”
That was true. “How do you know they were lies?”
“Prince Harry?”
Uff - I forgot about it. 'He could very well have been my fiancé; there was no way to know for sure.'
He chuckled and pressed his foot on the accelerator. “And the comedies, Lily. Do you remember the comedies? It was like being on Broadway every single day of the week.”
Wow - I completely forgot about the comedies.
I loved creating plays and making all the inhabitants of the neighbourhood act. And yes, maybe I was the one who started those huge theatre productions, but the others had always been at the game, so they had to have fun too. 'Theatre is a noble vocation, and if you guys were too uncultivated to recognise talent, worse for you.'
James' chuckle at that point turned into a thunderous laugh. 'You begged Remus to do Romeo while you were Juliet, and when he refused you climbed up a tree and pretended to cry for an hour.'
“And in the meantime you were pulling my acorns trying to make me fall!”
“I think the point here is that he sees you differently from other girls because of your past.”
As I looked at it I asked myself - holy God - if maybe I was really a little weird. “So for him I'll be forever weird, and there's nothing I can do?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, maybe not. But...”
Since he suddenly had a guilty expression, I put him in his shoes: 'What did you do, James?'
“I didn't do anything, Evans - you did it all.” Stopped at the red light, he turned to look me in the eye, “Remus and I were talking about how terrible it was that they threw up on you and he made a comment about your horrendous split.”
My cheeks were on fire at the thought of my gorgeous dress, now ruined. “And?”
“And she said something about the fact that it was right from you showing up at a party in a waitress uniform, and that you didn't change at all.”
I sighed and started looking out the window, suddenly feeling hopeless: I didn't have the slightest chance with Remus, “Fantastic.”
“I told him you're completely different now.”
I observed it from the reflection of the glass. “Really?”
“Yes. I told him that you sing a lot less than you used to and that at school you are considered a sexy girl.”
My weird girl heart warmed up. “Am I considered a sexy girl?”
“Probable. In short, you're not ugly, so yes, it's possible. I don't know." James kept his eyes glued to the street and seemed vaguely irritated, “It's not my habit to talk about you, except in the context of 'guess what my clumsy neighbour did', so I actually have no idea. I just wanted to try to get him to change his mind.”
I rolled my eyes and felt ridiculously sad that she had invented everything.
“But there's a problem.” He put the arrow and slowed down, as we approached a yellow traffic light. “While I was doing my best to convince him that you're not a little nut, he completely misunderstood my words and said, like- 'So you like Lilith. I knew it!'”
“Oh no.” sh*t, sh*t, sh*t.
“Oh yes.” He stopped at the traffic light and looked at me 'He is convinced that we are very caught up in each other'
“Nooooo!” I butara backwards on the headrest, imagining Remus' face studying me and James. He thought I liked James, and it was all my fault. I had put the voice around him, in the name of heaven, “He will never ask me to go to the dance, if he thinks you like me.”
“Probably not.”
“Oh.” I blinked quickly: I didn't want to cry, but I couldn't help but visualise his face. It was supposed to be my destiny, damn it, and now Sirius would have it in his clutches before I got my kiss on tiptoe.
And I had been throwing up on myself for nothing.
“If he can make you feel better, he said something else about you, as you were leaving.”
“What? When? What did he say?"
He accelerated by turning the angle and turbocharged. 'As we went out he added, 'I can't believe little Lilith has a tattoo.''
I gasped “Well, but how did he say that?”
He electrocuted me. “Are you serious?”
“I mean, he said it as if he was disgusted by the thing or as if... as if he found it cool?”
With his eyes glued to the street, James replied, 'He was definitely not disgusted.'
'At least this one,' I threw myself against the backrest and crossed my arms on my chest, starting to look out the window again as the lights in our neighbourhood approached.
What was I supposed to do? If it had been another boy, I could have let it go and take the vomit as a sign of fate.
But it was Remus Lupin. I couldn't give up. Honestly, just thinking about it clenched my heart. There had to be a way.
I bit my lip while reasoning. In short, technically, regardless of the self-inflicted rumours about the story between me and James, Remus had looked at my tattoo with some interest. It wasn't much, but still something like, wasn't it? He demonstrated that it was possible to change his beliefs about the weird little girl
I just needed a chance to show him all the ways I had changed.
I felt the hope resurface. It wouldn't have taken long to make him open his eyes, if I had managed to spend a few hours with him, right? I just needed time, and maybe a little help.
Mmmm.
“You are very quiet, Evans. It terrifies me, because I have no idea what you're thinking.”
“Potter.” I turned to him on the seat. With my most eye-catching smile, I said to him, “Do friend. I came up with a great idea.”
'God, help me,' He parked in the Place, removed the keys from the painting and added, with a half smile: 'What would it be?'
'Then' I started, staring at my hands and without hinting at wanting to get out of the car. “But listen to me, before you say no.”
“Let's go again? You're scaring me.”
“Sssh.” I took a deep breath and said, “What if we let them think we're dating, but only for, like, a week?”
I was blushed, and I expected her to make fun of me. He scrutinized me carefully for a long moment, before saying, 'What would this solve, exactly?'
“I'm still working on it, give me a second.” I bit my lip as I rearranged ideas. “If we pretended to be attracted to each other for a week, Remus would realise that I'm no longer the weird little Lilith. So he is already convinced that we are going out together. Why not take advantage of it to show him that I am a perfectly valid romantic option?”
James drummed his long fingers on the steering wheel. “Why is it so important to you?”
Blinking I stroked my eyebrow with my index finger. How could I answer that question? How could I explain to him that I was sure it was the universe that sent Remus back from me?
Hating the hesitant tone of my voice, I replied, “I honestly have no idea at all. I just know that for some reason it's really, really important. Does that sound so stupid to you?"
She looked out of the windshield with an insusibly serious face. After a few moments, I was starting to wonder if he might not have heard, but then, “The really stupid thing is that no, I don't think it is.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He cleared his voice and looked at me. The James smile was back. “Now, what do I gain from it? Apart from the joy of throwing you into the arms of the guy you want to bump into, of course.”
“Disgusting.” I cleared my voice in turn, happy that James was the crafty one I knew again. The introspective and understanding James had become a little too much to spend. I said, “You can keep your Seat for another week.”
“It doesn't seem enough to me at all. I mean, you expect me to take you out again, right?”
'Well, it would help, yes,' I settled my hair behind my ears, listening uncomfortably to the silence that reigned in the car.
James crossed his arms to his chest as his mouth bent into a smug and satisfied smile. “I have it. I have a foolproof plan."
“I doubt it.”
“Shhh” He stretched out and put the palm of his hand under my nose: it smelled of soap. Then he went back to relax in the driver's seat. “I'll pretend I want a story with you, while you'll make the disinterested one.”
“Okay...?”
“In addition, I will actively help you conquer Remus by exalting your many virtues in front of him.”
Although I knew there had to be a rip-off hidden somewhere, it was fun to see James gradually becoming passionate about the idea. I asked him, “And you? What do you gain from it?"
“If thanks to my help he asks you to accompany him to the dance I will keep the place forever.”
I grabbed the door handle. “Forever? We don't talk about it."
“You're not listening to me. I am putting my endless experience at your disposal to convince him to ask you to go to the dance. Our current agreement was only for me to accompany you to a party. Now, I should provide you with confidential information, work with Remus well, give you useful suggestions, fashion tips, etc.”
“Fashion tips?” I snorted
“That's right, fashion advice. Etc., For example, if you have to go to a party and you want Remus to find you sexy, dress in a sexy way instead of like Doris Day waitress version.”
“I don't see what's wrong with Doris Day waitress version, but right now I can't understand that you know who Doris Day is.”
“Why? My grandmother likes 'Pillow Talk'...»
I loved that movie. And maybe there was still hope for James too.
“She also likes pickled pig's paws and attempting to escape from the retirement home.”
Ah. As not said.
He started playing with the car keys. “Then. ....? Are you there?"
I took a deep breath. If he had really helped me with Remus I would have left him the Place, along with the moon, the stars and probably even a kidney. Exhaling, I said, “I'm in.”
“Wise decision.” At that point he got out of the car, slammed the door and reached me just as I was closing mine. He leaned over me and murmured, 'By the way, I will really enjoy my Permanent Place.'
I rolled my eyes. Incorrigible, “You don't need to accompany me to the door, James.”
However, he took the duffle bag out of my hand. “So let me do it, it's not every day that I carry a bag full of clothes full of vomit for a girl.”
“True,” My smile turned into a laugh. 'Although I really hope I can keep my pants on without your help.'
“I doubt it - I literally saved your buttops, at the party”
As he was accompanying me to the front door, I smelled his cologne. It was good and fresh, in an advertisem*nt they would probably have talked about 'pine notes', but I almost stunted to realise that I recognised him as his. That was the scent of James, period. But... when was that awareness born? I must have noticed it on an unconscious level during our parking quarrels, or maybe he even put it as a child.
When we arrived on the porch and he handed me the duffle bag, I looked him in the face and felt overwhelmed by the feeling of having awakened from a dream or something like that. Because otherwise how could I explain that I just got back from a beer party at the house of one of the most popular kids in the school, and that now James Potter was on my porch, without the two of us fighting?
But the most surreal part of all, by far, was that there didn't seem to be anything wrong with that. It seemed like the beginning of something.
I said, “Thanks for the clothes and... everything. You behaved much better than I expected.”
“Obviously.” He gave me a smile, a smile different from everyone he had made me until then. She was kind, as genuine as the smiles she had addressed to her friends at the party. I didn't mind being looked at that way by him.
She said: “Don't forget to wash the dirty uniform, before the next round. I imagine The Bar has very strict standards regarding the appearance of its employees.”
I answered the smile. 'Tell someone and I'll kill you.'
“Sewn lips, Lils.”
***
The next morning, at work, I felt very positive about the whole situation, as I went over it in my head In short, yes - they had vomited on me. and Mr. Perfection was convinced that my adorable little dress was a waitress uniform and, oh, of course, he also believed that I was still a tramba child (I hoped with all my heart that it was a periphrase of James and Remus had not really used that word) - but they were the only negative aspects.
That's right: by nature I am optimistic and outrageously unrealistic.
Remus also seemed quite interested in attending the ball, so maybe I still had some chance left. Especially with James on my side, who focussed the spotlight on the absolutely-non-werd Lily, who was once a caterpillar but had now turned into a stunning butterfly.
“Alastor?” I called the name out loud, and a client with straw-coloured hair, with red shoes and matching suspenders, approached me holding two books in his hand.
He stopped at the counter and showed me the ticket. I took it and said, “For her discs we can give you twenty-four dollars.”
Her hairy eyebrows joined together to form a single caterpillar and her lips drew a straight line. “Wenty-four dollars? I know for sure that Humperdinck's album is worth thatfigure alone."
'He's probably right' I started, holding back the urge to raise my eyes to the sky. Old record fans were the worst. They always knew how much their LPs were worth to other old record fans, and they took it out on me when I offered them half of what we could resell them to. “But in this store we can only get a fraction of that amount. He can safely keep it, if he believes he can sell it online at a higher price.”
He looked at me without saying a word. He stood there staring at me, as if his penetrating gaze could make me change my mind and convince me to pull money at him. It was the years that I worked at the Magical Florish and Blotts, and basically now it only took a glance to see if a customer would try to bargain or not.
I looked back, smiling back, of course, and waited for him to get tired of that Big Man game. After twenty abundant seconds he gave in: “I don't make any of two copies of it. I will accept your offer.”
“That's right, as I thought” I was doing the bill to him, when the doorbell on the door
Entrance rang.
“Good morning,” I said, without lifting my eyes from the cash register.
“Can you please tell me where I can find the books about farts?”
I looked up and here was James, very serious, while Old Alastor stared at him in shock.
“Sorry?” I had to bite my cheeks so as not to laugh.
I wouldn't even have smiled in front of that childish joke. And above all not in front of a customer.
James wore basketball shorts and a sweatshirt with Spiderman on it, and he had dark hair sticking out of the hood as if he had just taken a shower and passed his fingers in the middle instead of using a brush. I wasn't sure when he got so long, thin and fibrous, but I had to admit it was a beautiful sight.
Of course, you had to like guys like James.
“The books on farts. Ready?” She repeated with extreme impatience, as if I were the one who was behaving strangely, “I need some gastrointestinal relief, miss. It's an emergency.”
I stretched the Old Alastor money and received it. “Thank you very much and have a nice day.”
Bumbling, he put the bills in the wallet before leaving the store.
I electrocuted James and shook his head. “What's wrong with you?”
He shrugged. “Am I nice?”
“No, I don't think that's it. What are you doing here?"
“I like books and..” He turned around and watched the store. “The discs.”
“Really? What's your favourite album?”
She pointed to what I had just bought from the old Alastor.
“But don't tell me.”
“I swear. No one raps like the big Dink, I could listen to that Engelbert - or, as I call it, Big, all day.”
“Seriously, why are you here?
He approached the counter. 'I wanted to talk to you, and your stepmother told me you were here.'
Stepmother. It would have been normal for me to think of Helena in those terms and call her that, but for some reason I had never succeeded. She was always 'my father and Helena' or 'my father's wife'. I had been living with her for years now, but she was still just Helena.
“What do you want?”
“This morning Remus sent me a message.”
“Really?” A squeaky verse came out of my mouth that should have embarrassed me, but that didn't because there was only James in front of me. Clatting my hands I asked, “What did he write to you? Did he talk about me? What did he say?"
She smiled shaking her head as if I were a popper in a crisis from excess sugar. “There's a small group going to the game tonight.”
“A game of sports do you mean?” I set the price tag on three dollars and started labelling the books on offer. I promised Mary that that night we would go and buy the dress for the prom, especially because I had to tell her about the party before she found out about the vomiting incident at school on Monday. I was just hoping he wouldn't take too much on me because of the beer party.
“Of basketball, silly.”
“And how could I know, sorry”
“It's basketball season, we're in the playoffs...”
I shrugged and kept labelling, which made him smile “Anywaaaaaay we could go along with the others, and I thought it might be a quiet way out without other chicks stealing your scene.”
I got stuck. 'Are you really implying that if there are other girls present I will become invisible?'
“No. God, how rigid you are. I'm...”
“I'm not rigid”
“Ah no?”
I put down the price machine and put my hands on my hips. 'No, absolutely not.'
A corner of James' mouth lifted up. “You're wearing a little dress to work at a used book store, your agenda is frighteningly organised, and the prices you're putting on look glued to the ruler. Ri-gi-d.”
After electrocuting it with my gaze I closed my agenda, actually organised according to a complex colour code and stickers. 'I have a skirt and a sweater, it's not a dress.'
I loved my plaid skirt suit, cardigan with braids and Mary Jane of almost new and never vomited paint.
“It's the same. Everyone else in jeans, and you with the skirt.”
I raised my eyes to the sky, 'Just because I like skirts and I'm organised doesn't mean I'm stiff.'
“No, let alone.”
I took the price pointer back and started labelling even faster, irritated that James seemed to despise everything I was. “Finish telling me about the basketball game before I kill you.”
“I'm done. If you come with us you will have plenty of time to prove to Remus how cool you are before the game starts.
I stopped with the pricer in mid-air in my hand. I could already imagine myself and Remus sitting in the back seat of the car laughing, joking while falling in love. “It could work.”
“Good luck to us.”
Passing a finger over the tip of the price machine I asked “But won't you find it strange that you invited me?'
James shrugged as if he didn't see the “Nah.” problem.
“So, er, all right.” I straightened my back and put down the price machine again, excited by that unexpected opportunity. “I'm in. I'm coming with you.”
“There's one more thing, Lily.” James pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and started playing with it. “Don't take it, but I'd like to help you choose the right outfit.”
“Do I apologise?” I bent my head, in disbelief at what she had just had the courage to tell me. “I think I can dress myself, thank you.”
“Really, you should listen to me.”
“If we're talking about fashion, I would say no. No offence.”
“I'm a little offended, but that's not the point. The point is, no one will believe you're going casually to look at two dribbles, in flounced skirts and floral shoes.”
I blew away the bangs from my eyes. “Potter, I own a pair of jeans too, you know?”
“It amazes me.” He rested his palms on the counter and leaned forward. His face was very close to mine and I let myself be distracted by the slight splash of freckles on his dark skin that I had never noticed, and the fact that his eyelashes were not only extraordinarily long, but also perfectly curved.
“But I bet they're not normal jeans: They'll be those with a weird life, right? Or they have the crease and the turn on the bottom.”
'No'.
“Well,” he said, sighing as if it were an important thing. “I just think if the Remus thing really interests you you should just expand your wardrobe.”
“Do you make fun of me, Spiderman?”
James smiled at me as if I had just given him a compliment and ran his hands over the sweatshirt drawings “Listen to me. I know how other people dress in school, not just girls. Even Sirius Black for example, do you remember him?”
As if someone could forget about him. Perfect light skin, high cheekbones, gray and hypnotic eyes, raven hair that in recent years he had allowed to grow and now reached the point of touching his shoulders. Loving parents, confident, great grades at school, and, even though I wasn't up to date with his love life, he had definitely collected a decent list of ex-boys.
“You're grinding your teeth, Lily?”
I relax the muscles of my face and say, “No. Keep up your chat.”
“If you want to win over your man, stop putting yourself in and let yourself be helped.”
“It's that I don't think you're able to do that.”
“You mean I'm not able to take you to victory or choose your clothes?”
'I'm very sure about clothes.' I bent down to get a pile of books from the bottom shelf. A doubt crept into my brain as James spoke as if we were really architecting something. What was I doing - was I trying to stage my personal version of Kiss me?
To be honest, I had to admit that the part of me who loved romantic comedies was a little intrigued.
Only I liked myself the way I was. I liked my clothes. I wasn't a weirdo and I didn't need James' help in fashion.
“Okay.” He took a sheet of paper that he found on the counter: “How about we take a tour of the mall and I point you to things I find cool? We'll be together, so you won't have to buy anything you don't like. But it won't hurt you to look like a real high schooler when you try to win your lost love, right? Nothing too weird or vulgar just clothes that don't make you look like a librarian.”
I was evidently losing my mind, because all of a sudden it didn't seem so terrible to me the idea of walking around with James and having me explained how to dress. I wasn't going to change my look for a guy -that never, ever- but if James had pointed me to some outfits that I liked and that, according to him, made me look less stiff it could have been a good idea, right?
“I'm pretty broke right now, so I can opt for the sexy, rich girl look. Is there a moderately-attractive-low-budget-girl category?”
At that point James gave me a thirty-two-toothed smile, the smile of someone who just defeated the opponent. “Trust me, Evans- I'll take care of it.”
As soon as he left I wrote a message to Mary.
Damn, I have to do the double shift at work. Can we go tomorrow for the dress? I'M SORRY! :ME
I felt like a bad friend. I knew I had to stop postponing the dress thing, but I really had a hard time forcing myself.
Maybe the next day.
