You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com
View Online | Printer Friendly Version of Entire Story
Chapter 6: Dinner, Evans Style
perfect chapter image by cérise at TDA!!
I don’t think you would believe me if I told you how incredibly awkward it was when we had all successfully settled ourselves around the table in the Dining room. My dad, who apparently just got home from work, was eyeing James with distaste (he was awfully protective of me), my sister (who usually has the best manners) was viciously stabbing at her meatloaf like the poor thing wasn’t even dead yet, and my mom has already asked Potter about twenty different questions.
“What do your parents do for a living?”
“I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you.”
“You’ve been a wizard all of your life?”
“Erm . . . yeah. You’re kind of born a wizard . . .”
“Do you have good morals?”
“Well yes, I think so—”
“I think you should probably rephrase that, Hilary,” My dad cut across his answer with a glare, crossing his burly arms and leaning back in his chair with his eyebrows raised, “Mr. Potter, do you plan on having sex with my daughter at any time in your relationship?”
“Dad!” I protested in alarm, my cheeks flushing in humiliation at his bold question.
“It’s okay, Lily,” Potter whispered in my ear, patting my arm to reassure me, “It’s a fair question. I’m kind of starting to admire your dad for his brutally forward remarks—and I’ve only known him for about five minutes.” He directed his focus to my dad and, with a genuine smile and in a determined voice, said, “Of course not, Mr. Evans. I’m the kind of bloke that saves that stuff for marriage, believe it or not. So, unless Lily and I end up getting married, you won’t need to worry about that.” He smiled in what he thought was a charming smile (and it kind of was . . . I just won’t admit it out loud) and sent me a wink.
If looks could kill I think the glare Petunia was shooting at me would have knocked me out cold right then and there. I sent her a mockingly sweet smile. I understood that, to any other girl but me, what Potter has just professed to my dad was charismatically sweet and she was probably jealous that her boyfriend had no ability to be as charming whatsoever. It was either that or I was finally shoving her words that I couldn’t “get a boy to save my life” right back in her horse of a face.
I like the latter better.
Just to tick her off I reached towards James and linked our arms together. He stared at me, eyebrows raised. He rolled his eyes and stroked my arm with his thumb. Ignoring the trail of goose bumps he left behind on my arms I sent Petunia an expression that I’ve been practicing ever since this little plan to prove her wrong was set into action. You know, the one that practically screams ‘in-your-face-skank’. Yeah, that face.
“So, James,” Petunia began in her horribly whiny voice in a way that suggested as if that wasn't his real name, “Since you’re a fr—” She cut herself off mid-sentence shooting furtive glances at mum and dad to check if they realized that she had almost said ‘freak’, “Since you’re magical,” She amended, “You wouldn’t happen to know Snape would you? I mean, Lily and him used to be pretty good friends and I was just wondering—”
“Could we please not bring this up at dinner, Petunia?” I interrupted her angrily, subconsciously squeezing Potter’s arm a little too tight. “Honestly that’s a little low—even for you.”
“That’s what I was aiming for, Lily.” She replied with a sickly sweet smile.
James, noticing the sudden contention in the atmosphere, changed the subject quickly, “So, Mr. Evans . . . What does your job entail?” Normally, if Petunia and I weren’t in such sour moods, then we would have both simultaneously smack our palms to our foreheads at that question. My dad loved to talk about his job . . . but no one really wants to hear it.
“You know, working as an electrician doesn’t seem like it’s an exciting job, but I will guarantee that it very well is. Electricity is a funny thing. Do wizards use electricity?” He paused for an answer from James but continued as he noticed the perplexed look on his face that screamed ‘Erm-Electricity?’, “I guess they wouldn’t, now that I think about it. Well, you see, electricity is—”
“Stop staring at me, Lily.” Petunia snapped intervening into my dad’s little speech.
“You can’t get mad at me for staring at you,” I pointed out as if it were obvious—which it kind of is, unless you’re a four-year-old, “That’s utterly absurd . . . and hypocritical considering the fact that you were staring right back at me.”
“I can get mad at you for whatever I feel like!” Petunia barked, “No matter what the circumstances are!”
“Don’t you ‘whatever’ me.”
“Who are you? My mum?” I asked sarcastically growing more heated by the moment, “Oh wait that’s right, you’re not. She’s sitting right there.” I pointed at my mum for emphasis, “So if you could please stop acting like someone shoved dung up your nose this morning, that would be fantastic.”
“Enough girls!” Mum interceded into out argument quickly so it wouldn’t get too violent. The table grew awkwardly silent which was an often occurrence at the Evans’ dinner table. I’m not too surprised that Petunia is acting like a prick but I thought that maybe, just maybe, she would have a soul and cut me some slack.
Excuse me for being mistaken.
“Erm . . .” James began trying to break the heavy ice. Yeah good luck with that, buddy, “Pass the potatoes, Lils?” Without so much as glancing at him, I grabbed the potatoes and set them in front of his plate. I was glaring at Petunia in enrapture.
I saw her look sideways at both parents and, after making sure they weren’t paying any attention to us, she mouthed ‘freak’ at me. James noticed and gazed at me to see what my reaction was. Obviously he was afraid I was going to burst into a fit of tears again. I was a bit angry, yes, but I was not going to give Petunia the satisfaction of seeing me break down again. James put a comforting hand on top of mine.
Get this. It actually did comfort me. Without really realizing what I was doing, I turned my hand over so I could weave my fingers through his. He squeezed my hand gently and then all of a sudden the angry atmosphere was lifted from the dining room. I think my parents even felt it because I heard two heavy sighs of relief. I think even Petunia felt it. That would explain why she looked even angrier.
“So,” My mom began as I lifted my glass of water to my lips and gulped, “Are you going to be coming over again before school starts, James? I think you should, you’re a very nice boy.” At her words I promptly spit out my water in a squirt-gun like spray all over my Dad who was about to put a piece of meatloaf in his mouth. He froze as soon as the water left my mouth.
“What?” I panicked as my dad wiped frantically at his face.
“Well, I’d love to,” He said with his stupid lopsided grin, “But only if Lily is okay with it.” I felt inclined to rip my hand out from his hand but then I remembered that I was supposed to be acting like his girlfriend right now. The nerve of him. Really, who does he think he is?
You want it.
No one invited you into this internal conversation, heart. This is a Lily and brain decision so if you could please leave . . . that would be bloody awesome.
I have as much say in this as brain does and you know that I’m telling the truth. You like spending your free time with James. You want to spend the rest of your life wasting your free time with him. Admit it.
There’s nothing to admit.
You’re going to come to terms with me sooner or later. Sooner would be better rather than later. It helps avoid a lot of heartbreak and unnecessary contention . . . I’m just saying.
You can just say all you want but it’s not going to change a thing.
You know what? I will just say all I want.
“Lily?” My mum’s voice called to me pulling me out of my little reverie.
If I told them that I didn’t want Potter to come over then it would bring up a lot of unwanted question as to why which would then lead to our little secret spilling and to Petunia winning. Obviously, we can’t have this but if I say I do want him to come over again then it’s a whole other day of having to endure him.
“Yes, of course . . .” I said slowly, “Why wouldn’t I want that?”
“Lily,” Petunia answered with her annoying, shrill voice. The expression on her face was caught in between a unpleasant sneer and a look of realization. “I remember last year . . . you were always complaining about a boy James Potter. You always called him an unbearable git. Why the sudden change in feelings, Lily?”
My eyes popped out of my head. I shot a glance at Potter who shrugged. That annoyed me. It was almost like that shrug meant ‘this is all yours, Lily. If you blow this then you blow it all . . . no pressure.’ Well guess what, Potter. I am pressured!
“Erm . . . well it’s not exactly sudden,” I offered. I stared at Potter so he could help me but he just kept shrugging. He was going to pay for this. “You haven’t exactly seen me since last summer, Petunia. That’s a year to change my mind.”
“I heard you moaning on about him last week, Lily.” She smirked in victory.
“I remember that too, now that I think about it . . .” My mum mumbled to herself. She watched Potter and I in deep thought. After a couple of moments, however, she clapped her hands and said, “Or maybe Petunia and I are just imagining things. I mean, look at you two!” She gestured towards us, “You both are perfect for each other!”
“Yeah,” Potter agreed, flashing his pearly whites while taking a bite of his potatoes, “We are!”
“Yes,” I agreed with insincerity, “You had to of been imagining things, Petunia. There’s no other explanation. You were probably dreaming.”
“Alright then,” Petunia began, her lips stretching out over her teeth into her trademark senile smile, “How did your feelings for him bloom? I never caught that story and I think it would be a great one to share to the family . . .”
Potter, who had been slurping loudly to get the last bit of water out of his cup, froze altogether, cup still raised to his lips. His hazel eyes shifted toward me and he raised his eyebrows. He set down the cup and sent me a look that said ‘Allow me’. And so I did.
“You’re right, Petunia.” James told her, pulling out the grin that he uses on all the Professors when he’s convincing them that whatever misdemeanor took place just wasn’t him or his fellow Marauders, “That is a good story. A tad bit cliché but that’s not really a big deal, now is it? It was Christmas time. I had just gotten back to the Gryffindor common room from a rather gruesome prank that my mates and I just pulled on some well deserving Slytherins.”
I kicked him underneath the table.
He winced but nonetheless just rolled his eyes and continued, “Lily was the only one in the common room at the time. She was sitting in a chair that was perched in front of the fire place, wrapped in her baby blue blanket, reading The Merchant of Venice. At first I didn’t see her but she turned her head in interest as I bounded through the portrait hole. She looked so beautiful . . .”
My mom sighed (maybe even my dad did too, who knows?) at the sweet story he was telling us. I wonder what she would do if she ever found out that it was just a bunch of bull coming straight from Potter’s imagination.
“We got into our usual squabble. You know, I would say a witty remark and then she’d bite back with an even more witty remark (something I admire about her). I don’t know when but I think it was sometime after her standing up in pure rage that we got caught underneath mistletoe. It wasn’t just any old mistletoe either. It was enchanted mistletoe. We were stuck underneath the thing for two hours. Two hours. That’s how long it took her to agree to kiss me but she did and the rest of the story is right in front of you . . .” He grabbed my hand and smiled at my family.
Petunia’s mouth was hanging open like she was a goldfish, mum’s eyes were closed in reminiscence (no doubt about her young love with dad), and dad seemed to be looking at Potter in approval and let me tell you; My dad has never approved of a boy for me before. Ever.
Oh, Potter had them fooled. He had them fooled good.
It was completely dark outside, dinner was done and dishes were being watched. Potter and I were at the front door. Petunia was watching us closely, scrutinizing every small move, from the top of the staircase. I rolled my eyes and led Potter out of the house where we could talk in private.
“I looked beautiful, eh?” I asked him wittily.
He smiled without any form of shame on his face, “You always look beautiful, Lily.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me to the end of the driveway. I stared at him in disbelief. Sure, Potter has called me beautiful, gorgeous, and breathtaking and all that but it has never sounded so legitimate before. It made my breath hitch.
“I guess I’ll be seeing you within the next week again . . .”
“Yeah, I guess you will.” I remarked, replacing my look of utter astonishment and giving him a deathly glare.
He rolled his eyes. “Oh please, Lily, you can’t be mad at me for that can you? I thought we were friends now and friends visit other friends at their houses.”
“Exactly.” I said, “If you come over again then we’re going to have to act like boyfriend and girlfriend some more and . . . it’s just weird. I don’t know how much more of this I can take!”
“This was all your idea, you know.” He pointed out. “And it’s not that weird for me . . . I actually like it.” He winked. That was exactly the type of behavior that was making me feel so weird. He was still flirting with me even though we’ve established that we’re ‘just friends’ and it’s making my body react in weird ways that I’ve never felt before.
And that cannot be good.
“We could always just show up at your house for a little and then just go to the park or, even better, we could go to my house where we won’t have to put up the façade at all.” He suggested, “I’m perfectly content with that idea as long as we’re civil toward each other . . . and if I still get to hold your hand. Plus I get to show my mum that I got you to come over to my house on your own free will!”
“You’re so insufferable.” I stated although it came out insincere.
“I know, I know.” He replied softly. Silence dripped through the two of us as we gazed at each other. He glanced at my house quickly and then brought his eyes back to mine. “Lily . . . Petunia is watching us very intently.” I nodded, knowing where this was leading to but I didn’t protest as he leaned down for the second time that day to press his lips to mine.
I found myself losing all thoughts of rationality as I snaked my hands around his neck and he encircled his around my waist. He pulled me closer to him and laid one soft hand on my cheek, stroking it with his thumb in a way that nearly sent a shiver down my spine. Nearly. I forced myself to contain in order for him to not get the wrong idea.
Maybe you’ve got the wrong idea.
What is that supposed to mean, heart? This kiss means nothing more than proving something to Petunia. And—
Let me guess. And it’s just a good snog, right? There’s no sentiment whatsoever.
Is it possible for an internal organ to be sarcastic?
Ignoring the voice, I ran my hands through the untidy hair on the top of his head but just as I began to tug on the hair at his neck, he pulled away. His grin was almost too big for his face. I realized that I was smiling too and quickly tried to relax my face a bit. This was all for show (and might be just a good snog). It didn’t mean a thing.
“I’ll see you soon, Lily.” He said while kissing my forehead and pulling me into a long, warm hug. After a moment he let go of me, took a few steps backward, sent me a lopsided smile, and then vanished into thin air as he apparated.
And there I stood staring at the spot where he disappeared with my mouth open, me, wanting more. And then a horrible realization took over my thoughts and I quickly ran into my house, ignoring Petunia, and hurriedly headed up to my room so I could think in the proper setting.
This is probably the very worst thing that could of possible ever happened to me. What was Mary going to do? What was Potter—no, James—going to do? What was I going to do?
And I repeat:
Oh, Merlin. Oh, sweet bloody Merlin.
Took you long enough.
Shut up, heart. Nobody asked you.
*A/N: Ahhhh, so my parents have decided to move to which is all dandy with me because I hate where I live but it also means that I won't have internet access . . . until AUGUST (maybe even later). I ammm sooo sorrryyy! It's not my fault and I'm totally going to keep on writing in the road trip and the vacations and all that. Don't eat me . . .
But on another note . . . review! :)