chapter seven, as the world caves in!

january 17th, 1977

        𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊'𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 as one of the hardest courses to take. The balance between good and bad magic and one that lies on single threads of black and white areas. It's hard, hard to justify which enchantments are on verge of dangerous magic, or which are merely just strong. Power does not equate to dark. However, it's common knowledge that dark magic is stronger than others — so, how is that any fair? If strong magic creates dark magic, it's impossible to win a duel with somebody who plays dirty, right? 

With all the war talk (one which was greatly unfair from every direction), rise of an apparently dark lord's power, all those news of Muggle families' death that does not even make first page on Daily Prophet has fried Lori's brain. Her brain was fried... on the day of a test! Lori was currently crawling her way towards an A, which was incredibly unusual, downright non-existent. If this test was truly was difficult as it was supposed to be, she was screwed; it would be her downfall.

Tara Maleek was holding a pile of flashcards in her hands, asking questions to prepare for the test this afternoon. Lori's eyes were closed, all those newspapers she stayed up reading leading to an existential crisis. She got thirty-five minutes sleep. Vermillious charms were the last things on her mind. 

"Earth to Lori?"

Her eyes snapped open. Drawing a sharp breath in, Lori spoke, "produces red sparks."

"Good." Tara said with a tight-lipped smile. 

She sighed, eyes screwing shut tighter, Lori let out a roaring yawn. She turned to Tara, waiting for the next question when an arm appeared between the two girls and James Potter snatched the next flashcard from Tara's hands. 

"These are easy, I reckon you Ravenclaws have studied enough," he scoffed, reading the question. His band of friends stood behind him like a bunch of bodyguards, watching the scene in amusement.

James lost control of himself when Tara kicked him in the bend of the knee — the boy clung onto Sirius in an attempt to hold himself up but the raven-haired boy shifted aside, making James fall to the ground. Everybody around let out roars of laughter, a grumble sounding from the floor, "asshole," he muttered.

"Give it back." Tara ordered, kneeling to the ground and snatching that one card away from a groaning James, currently surrounded by a small crowd who gathered to have a look at why on earth Potter was sprawled on the floor.

With a pitiful smile, Lori extended her hand and James intertwined his fingers with hers, allowing him to be pulled up to his full height. Remus Lupin studied this interaction closely from the back, lingering eyes between the pair who failed to break their stretched-out eye contact in the next ten seconds. 

"All I was saying is you guys will be fine. It's just a test." James looked back and forth between the two girls, shooting a sarcastic smile to the scowling one and genuinely grinning at his helper. 

"Whatever, Potter," Tara grabs onto Lori's arm and walks away, forcing herself away from the Marauders before she loses her cool. 

✷

        There were a lot of things James had trouble comprehending— arithmancy, how cassette tapes worked, why Filch was such a prick. His mind was either constantly racking, laughing, or absolutely blank; now, though, his thoughts were running at a million miles an hour. He couldn't comprehend why his eyes trailed towards a certain curly-headed girl from the tables next to Gryffindor in Astronomy. Sirius slapped him in the head at least seven times because James keeps on zoning out, staring into space towards the Ravenclaw table. 

Professor Krane was lecturing the class on more things James could not understand; delicious smells from the meatloaf being created in the kitchens lingering in the air particles snatched everybody's attention. He was not paying attention, either. Alison O'Neil was chomping on her bubble gum, Marlene McKinnon was sleeping, and Rachel Whitehouse was scribbling one long, endless circle. So, why die of boredom when he could speak up?

"Lori," he murmured, eyes boring into the back of the girl's head. No response. He pushed himself further on his seat and kicked her in the leg, "Lantsov."

Refusing to turn around, she whispered, "What do you want?"

"I was wondering when my next lesson is." He started.

"Uh... after this?"

"No, no, I mean, getting the girl lessons—" he explained, coughing slightly when Krane diverted her eyes to him, and then speaking again when the professor looked away, "I promise to be a great student."

Lori dropped her pencil, turning in her chair to face James, "what about tomorrow evening?" She asked, "there's a match against Slytherin this week and I cannot sit there listening to my friends strategizing it."

"Brilliant," he grins, "so I was thinking... girls are, like, a strange species, huh? Do all women really know what other women want? Can you follow books of instructions with them? Are we sure we have a solution to my problem or do we just improvise?"

"Please, don't improvise," Lori begged with an exasperated sigh, "the world may cave in." 

In her mind, it's up to the boy himself to figure out there is no rules to follow when it comes to girls. Everybody has different wants and needs, bar the bare minimum. Lori's next task would be to crack the mystery that is Lily Evans. 

Lily Evans is a unique sort of girl. Blessed with beauty of girlhood. On the outside, around the shell, she's your typical ambition-driven, reluctant-to-adventures, incredibly intelligent girl with tons of good friends. That's it, journal closed, right?

Except... is being a locked journal part of girlhood? Because, that's how Lori feels about Lily... like a hidden diary., someone's splattered secrets stuffed beneath a twin-sized mattress frame, along with the rest of the things they try to guard from reality. No one knows her, and no one is opening that locked journal

She slowly turned around, eyes wandering off to Lily Evans with her glittering quill, shining red hair, blue eyeliner on eyelids, chipped-polish nails. She blends. 

Lori is going to get James to open up that locked journal, and Lily would willingly be giving him the key. That means no grand gestures that likely pose as a threat of breaking into her personal space. Evans does not like that.

"Should I be scared of telling her how much I want her?"

"Please, don't." She repeated. Anything James Potter does is bound to end in catastrophe. 

James' eyes widened, "What do I do, Lori? Do I just wait— I'm not very good at it. If I leave her alone and don't tell her why, she may forget about me!"

Lori nodded as he spoke, eyes wandering across the room. Marlene McKinnon had woken up from his nap and was now spitting spitballs at the ceiling. She looked past the other kids and noticed Professor Krane pacing the room— her sharp eyes were glued to James, who was continuing to blab.

"Shut up," Lori murmured, shifting in her seat, so she was facing forward again.

He didn't heed her warning. "Mr Potter," the woman's shrill voice split the silence. "Do you have anything you'd like to share with the class, James?"

"No." Eyes wide, he picked up his pencil and began scribbling. "No, I'm just— I'm working." Confused, Sirius side-eyed James due to all the stuttering, not quite sure where that derived from. 

Professor Krane narrowed her eyes at the boy, arms crossed over her chest in a strict manor. Sharply, she pressed a crooked finger to her lips and continued pacing the room. When all was clear, Lori turned to the boy. "Tomorrow, 8 p.m. sharp," she whispered. "If you're late, I'm not letting you in."

✷

january 18th, 1977

        Lori is talking. James is sure of it. He wanted to understand — he wanted to understand what was going on so badly. But, everything that left her lips was like a foreign language. It got jumped in his brain, fucked up somewhere in the process of comprehension.

James is a tad bit clueless but he has never been stupid. He was simply never stuck. It was painfully new to him. He does not understand this feeling— this feeling where he feels weak at the knees and his mind is jumbled up.

Lori is talking and writing, that must be the Defence homework he has yet to complete. James is looking for an excuse for his lack of attention; he wants to think it because he flopped the Charms exam this afternoon, skipping all questions related to werewolves, or maybe it's...

It's just Lori, isn't it?

Feeling his eyes on her, the words tangled in her throat. She looked at him, her eyes pouring into his — an uncontrollable, almost ecstatic smile melted onto her lips.

Her hands shook, and she knocked over her goblet of ink in an attempt to shake it all off, "Oops," she muttered underneath her breath, and mumbled a few curses as a blot of ink fell onto the already tea-stained pages of her book.

James jumped up, forcing himself out of his haze, "here," he says, taking out his wand, "let me help." He presses the tip of his wand to her book, and makes the ink disappear.

All the ink.

Lori gives him a look, blinking and genuinely confused, "what did you just do?" Her brows knitted in utter shock as she stares at the now-blank page of her book.

"I thought it would work," James gulped, heart in his throat. For a moment, fear encapsulated his heart. Ravenclaws and their books. When she keeps on glaring at him dangerously, he adds, "sorry."

"I'm messing with you, James," she laughed breathily, her lips splitting into a beam that burned right into his heart. "Really, I'm sure Madam Pince can restore it."

He sighs, slouching back into his seat out of exhaustion from sitting down and wasting his energy on trying to understand Lori... Lori's words, he means. His hazel-coloured eyes run down her face. James; brows twitched and he shakes off the urge to compliment her again. The bronze light illuminates onto her face, her glossy-lips pulled into a genuine smile.

When Lori catches his eye, "What?" She stares at the green in his eyes, the dimples in his rosy cheeks, and the pink tint on his nose. At first, Lori thinks it may be too warm in the Ravenclaw Common Room, why else would he look so flustered—?

Then, "You got— uh, you got something over there," James pointed slyly to her cheekbone, and she cluelessly let her dainty fingers roam over her face trying to find the right spot, "no, not there—here,"

Out of nowhere, James shifted in his seat—closer to her, and brought his hand to her cheeks. His eyes traced the curls that fell at the sides of her face, danced down the nape of her neck.

Lori felt his fingers on her face, fingertips grazing the spot of ink near her lips until his touch was only a memory.

"All perfect now," said the boy with a tiny, genuine smile, "you look perfect." After a stretched-out pause, he says, "tell me about the match with Slytherin this week. How are preparations coming along?"

"Opposing Slytherin is always hellish," Lori groaned, "half that team is made of rich, pretentious snobs who relentlessly breaks rules."

"I'll be cheering you on, you'll be bound to win." James said.

"Right, besides, only Slytherins cheer for Slytherins," she shrugged, "let's hope Tara can be more patient than she usually is. Remember, she almost killed Avery last year."

James let his head fall back to laugh, "you lot obviously hate that little posse, don't you worry, we do too. Sirius and I cause quite the trouble for them."

"I wish that group would just pull their heads from their arses, yeah! More than everyone else!" Lori exclaimed, once she focuses on a topic, especially when it comes to express her dislike against bullies, she won't move on. "That Nott, Mulciber and Avery... idiots."

"You know, your consistency is very alluring."

"I know you love me, Potter, you have since we were five years old and you tried to marry me," Lori said without grasping where the sudden shot of confidence rose from, "I think it's best if we just stay friends."

Through another laugh, James shook his head, "you're the worst!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air with the brightest grin on his face. Dimples curved on his reddening cheeks, "I did cry when you lost the engagement ring but that was years ago."

"The worst?" Lori dramatically gasped, clutching her chest in mocking pain, "I thought I was alluring, you git."

"Right, mean-flirting shouldn't be your go-to, Lantsov," he said, "albeit it works for Sirius, never worked for me. I prefer when girls compliment me."

"Oh, so I can infer that you love the attention your flock of girls give you," Lori arched a brow, humour evident in her coy tone, "here I thought you were just an innocent fool in love."

"An innocent fool in love," James repeated her honey-plated words, to taste whether the syllables that sweeps of as poetry off her tongue feels as magical when he says it. It doesn't, and he wondered what this tiny figment of imagination meant.

He turned her head to look at Lori as she smiled straight up at the chandelier in the ceiling. His entire world caved in as it struck him that Lori should know how beautiful she is. She'd always kept her hair wavy-curly like her mother's, and her cheekbones were high and defined. The leftover baby fat from childhood was beginning to disappear, allowing her bone structure to cut sharp lines beneath her skin. Her eyes — dear Godric, her eyes — were a warm brown, lighter than his hazel touch, and her eyelashes nearly touched her eyebrows between blinks.

She started to turn his head to look at him, and he had half a mind to quickly look away like he'd been caught doing something wrong. She was beautiful in delicate manner.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Lori asked quietly.

"You're very beautiful, Lori."

Her heart skipped a beat, flatlined, even, and she nervously chuckled so they could play this moment off as a joke, "I know."

James shut his eyes, now suddenly aware of his own actions as he rubbed his face with his hands, "You're dreadful."

𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 !

brace yourselves for the prank chapters, everyone.