Lily Evans?
Past 5th Year
Sirius hadn’t exactly had all the details of what he may or may not have done to Lily Evans last night, but by the look she was giving him now, he should probably refresh his bloody memory. Quickly.
She was stalking toward him like someone had dared her to sit beside a ticking time bomb. Or worse—a Slytherin.
She didn’t say anything as she dropped into the seat beside him. Not a glance. Not even a grimace. Just a tight-lipped, polite little sit—like they were strangers at a Ministry gala and not tangled up in something that already felt dangerously complicated.
Well, friends was a stretch. He barely knew the girl his best mate had worshipped for years. Sure, he’d heard every one of James’s idiotic plans to win her over—each one dumber than the last—and sure, he’d seen her roll her eyes a thousand times before they started… whatever it was they were doing now. Dating? Circling each other? Playing with fire?
Sirius had always figured she was just overplaying the hard-to-get game. But maybe he hadn’t been paying close enough attention.
“Lil—”
“Don’t.” Her voice was quiet, sharp. She didn’t even look at him—just pulled her bookbag into her lap like it was armor. “Not today.”
Sirius blinked. “Right. Of course.” He leaned back, forced a smirk. “Wouldn’t want to interrupt the silent treatment. I hear it’s a new Hogwarts elective.”
That earned him a look. Just a glance, but it was sharp enough to slice skin. “You think this is funny?”
“No. I think I don’t know what the hell I did, but you clearly want to set me on fire for it.”
Her eyebrows rose, unimpressed. “You really don’t remember?”
“I remember waking up with a very charming Hufflepuff, a headache, and zero recollection of whatever crime I’ve apparently committed.”
Lily inhaled sharply through her nose.
Sirius winced. “Sorry. That was—look, I was off my face. I wasn’t trying to ruin anything.”
“Yeah,” she said coldly. “We noticed.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. The silence between them twisted.
“Did I say something?” he asked finally. “To you, I mean.”
“No.” She flipped open her textbook, eyes scanning the page like it might offer her a reason not to hex him. “But you didn’t have to.”
Sirius swallowed hard. “He’s not talking to me.”
“No,” she said. “He’s not.”
“And now I’ve got you ready to hex me under the table.”
“I don’t want to hex you,” Lily said, and this time it was softer. Not kind, but… tired. “I want you to be the person he thinks you are.”
Sirius looked over at her. Really looked. Her jaw was clenched, but her eyes—red-rimmed, unreadable—told another story. The kind you couldn’t fake, even if you wanted to.
He leaned in slightly, knowing he was in crowded space, wanting her to just listen to him, what he was saying, hoping she would.
“I didn’t mean for you to hate me,” he said quietly. “And I don’t want you thinking I’m some heartless bastard. We’ve never exactly been acquainted, but… you matter to him. And I’m not trying to make things worse. I just—I’m not who you think I am.”
Her eyes snapped to his, and for a second—just a flicker—something cracked.
“Too bloody late.” Her voice wasn’t cold anymore. It was honest. Brutal. And it knocked the air from his lungs more effectively than a punch ever could.
She turned away, pulled the cauldron between them, and said, clipped and controlled, “Chop the valerian root, Black. Before I decide you’re more useless than Goyle.”
Sirius exhaled and grabbed the knife.
“Charming as ever, Evans.”
“Try not to bleed in the potion.”
“No promises.”