Lily Evans had always been a morning person, but today she woke up with the kind of dread usually reserved for standardized tests and dentist appointments. Her phone buzzed with the daily chaos of the group chat, and she squinted at the screen through sleep-crusted eyes.

Cast & Chaos: Anastasia 2025

Marlene: good morning theatre sluts. blocking rehearsal today at 3:30. DO NOT BE LATE or i will personally drag you by your character shoes

Sirius: what if i don't have character shoes

Marlene: then i'll drag you by your stupid hair

James: morning sunshine 🌞

Regulus: it's 7 am why are you awake

James: soccer practice. also excitement for BLOCKING with my lovely co-star

Lily: it's too early for your nonsense potter

James: never too early for art, evans

Mary: lily's already grumpy this is going to be a LONG day

Dorcas: can't wait to watch this unfold like a beautiful disaster

Lily groaned and rolled out of bed, her red hair a tangled mess that would require at least twenty minutes and half a bottle of leave-in conditioner to tame. She had exactly forty-seven minutes to shower, eat something resembling breakfast, and mentally prepare herself for a full day of school followed by three hours of being in close physical proximity to James Potter while he inevitably forgot every piece of direction Dumbledore gave him.

The shower was scalding, the way she liked it when she was stressed. Steam fogged up the mirror as she went through her morning routine with the mechanical precision of someone who had done this exact same thing every school day for the past four years. Cleanser, toner, moisturizer, a light layer of concealer under her eyes because she'd stayed up too late the night before reading Anya's character analysis for the hundredth time. A swipe of mascara and some lip balm, because she wasn't trying to impress anyone, least of all James Potter, but she also wasn't going to look like she'd been hit by a truck.

Her outfit was already laid out on her bed— a black, loose sweater that hung off one shoulder, and a plaid skirt she'd been wearing since freshman year, though the skirt had definitely gotten shorter as she'd grown taller. She paired it with her lucky tights (the ones without runs) and her worn-in Doc Martens, because if she was going to suffer through blocking rehearsal, she was at least going to be comfortable.

Downstairs, her mum was already at the kitchen table with her laptop and a cup of coffee that smelled like it could wake the dead. "Morning, love," she said without looking up from her screen. "There's toast if you want it."

"Thanks," Lily mumbled, grabbing a piece of wheat bread and slathering it with an obscene amount of peanut butter. She wasn't particularly hungry, but she knew from experience that theatre rehearsals were marathons, not sprints, and she'd need the energy.

"Big day today?" her mum asked, finally glancing up with that knowing look that mothers seemed to perfect sometime around their child's thirteenth birthday.

"Blocking rehearsal," Lily said around a mouthful of toast. "First one."

"Ah," her mum nodded sagely. "With the boy."

Lily nearly choked. "What boy?"

"The one you've been complaining about for the past week. James something?"

"Potter," Lily said darkly. "And I haven't been complaining."

Her mum raised an eyebrow that was so perfectly skeptical it could have won awards. "Right. Well, try not to murder him on the first day of blocking. I imagine that would be bad for the show."

"No promises," Lily muttered, grabbing her bag and heading for the door.

The drive to school was mercifully short, Remus let her play her playlist in the car, which was a carefully curated mix of Anastasia songs and angry girl music that she hoped would put her in the right headspace for the day ahead. They pulled into the student parking lot with fifteen minutes to spare before first period, which was just enough time to grab her books from her locker and maybe steal a few minutes of peace in the library before the chaos began.

But of course, because the universe apparently had a sense of humor, the first person she saw when she walked through the main doors was James Potter.

He was leaning against the trophy case with Sirius, looking as though he'd just come from the gym. His shorts and t-shirt that clung to him in ways that were definitely not appropriate for seven-thirty in the morning. James's hair was even messier than usual, damp with sweat and sticking up at odd angles, and he had that post-workout glow that made him look like he'd stepped out of a sports drink commercial.

Lily tried to walk past them without being noticed, but Sirius had the observational skills of a hawk when it came to social dynamics.

"Evans!" he called out, grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Fancy seeing you here."

"It's school, Black," she replied dryly. "I'm legally required to be here."

"Fair point," Sirius conceded. "James was just telling me how excited he is for blocking today."

James shot his best friend a look that could have melted steel, but Sirius was immune to such things after years of practice. "I'm excited to work on the show," James said carefully, his eyes meeting Lily's for just a moment before darting away. "You know. Professional excitement."

"Professional," Lily repeated, her tone suggesting she found the concept of James Potter being professional about as likely as pigs flying. "Right."

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken only by the sound of other students filtering through the hallways and the distant hum of the air conditioning system. James opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but the first bell rang, sharp and insistent, and Lily took it as her cue to escape.

"See you at rehearsal," she said, already walking away.

"Looking forward to it," James called after her, and she could hear the smile in his voice even without turning around.

First period was AP Literature with Mrs. Sprout, and Lily threw herself into the discussion of tragic heroines with perhaps more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary. They were still working through Anna Karenina, and today's focus was on the concept of fate versus free will, which felt uncomfortably relevant to her current situation.

"Miss Evans," Mrs. Sprout said, peering at her over her reading glasses, "you seem particularly invested in Anna's struggle today. Care to elaborate on your thoughts about her agency in the narrative?"

Lily straightened in her seat, grateful for the distraction. "I think Anna's tragedy isn't just that she makes bad choices, but that she's trapped by the expectations of her society. She's trying to find authenticity in a world that punishes women for wanting more than what they're given. Every choice she makes is constrained by forces beyond her control."

"Interesting," Mrs. Sprout mused. "And do you think she bears any responsibility for her fate?"

"I think she bears responsibility for her choices," Lily said carefully, "but not for the limited options she was given. She's working within a system that was designed to fail her."

From two seats over, she could feel Severus watching her with that intense stare he'd perfected over the years. He raised his hand. "But surely Anna's downfall is a result of her own moral failings. She abandons her duty, her family, her social position for a selfish passion."

Lily bristled. "Or maybe she's the only character in the book brave enough to choose love over convention. Maybe her tragedy is that she lived in a world that couldn't accept a woman who refused to be diminished."

The debate continued for the rest of the period, with Lily finding herself more and more worked up as she defended Anna's choices. It wasn't until the bell rang and she was packing up her books that she realized she might have been projecting just a little bit.

Second period was AP Chemistry, which was normally one of her favorite classes but today felt like an exercise in torture. She was paired with Peter Pettigrew for their lab on reaction rates, and while Peter was sweet enough, he had the attention span of a goldfish and kept getting distracted by the Bunsen burner.

"So," Peter said as he measured out their sodium chloride with the precision of someone who had clearly never measured anything in his life, "excited for blocking today?"

"Thrilled," Lily said flatly, adjusting the flame under their beaker.

"James is pretty nervous," Peter continued, apparently oblivious to her tone. "He keeps asking Sirius about stage directions and stuff. It's actually kind of cute."

Lily looked up sharply. "Nervous?"

"Oh yeah," Peter nodded enthusiastically. "He's been watching YouTube videos of the Broadway production all weekend. And he bought the cast recording. And he's been practicing his lines in the mirror."

This was news to Lily. She'd assumed James was treating the whole thing as a joke, showing up unprepared and coasting on natural charisma. The idea that he was actually putting in effort was... unsettling.

"He's probably just worried about looking stupid," she said, turning back to their experiment.

"Maybe," Peter shrugged. "Or maybe he really wants to do a good job. You know, impress people."

The implication hung in the air between them, and Lily felt her cheeks warm. She focused intently on recording their data, trying to ignore the way her pulse had picked up.

Third period was AP History, where Mr. Binns droned on about the Russian Revolution with all the enthusiasm of a man reading a grocery list. Lily tried to pay attention—the historical context was actually relevant to Anastasia—but her mind kept wandering to the afternoon ahead. She found herself sketching blocking diagrams in the margins of her notebook, trying to anticipate where Dumbledore might place them for each scene.

Lunch was a blessed reprieve. She met Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas at their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria, far enough from the chaos of the main dining area to actually have a conversation.

"You look stressed," Mary observed, unwrapping her sandwich with the careful precision of someone who had packed it herself.

"I'm not stressed," Lily lied, stabbing her salad with unnecessary force.

"Right," Dorcas said, not looking up from her sketchbook. "And I'm not gay."

"You're very gay," Marlene pointed out.

"Exactly my point."

Lily sighed and put down her fork. "Fine. I'm a little stressed. It's just... blocking is when everything becomes real, you know? Up until now it's just been reading and talking. But today we actually have to... perform. Together."

"With James," Mary said helpfully.

"Yes, with James," Lily snapped. "Who has probably spent exactly zero minutes thinking about character motivation or emotional beats or any of the things that actually matter."

All their phones buzzed with a new message.

Cast & Chaos: Anastasia 2025

James: quick question - for the train station scene, am I supposed to be charming or mysterious?

Regulus: you're supposed to be COMPETENT

Sirius: reg's feeling spicy today

Regulus: i'm feeling BETRAYED

Remus: james, we'll work through all the character choices in rehearsal

James: cool cool cool. totally not overthinking this at all

Lily: since when do you overthink anything?

James: since i got cast opposite the most talented actress in school and don't want to look like an idiot

Lily stared at her phone, her heart doing something complicated in her chest. Mary and Dorcas were both looking at her with identical expressions of barely contained glee.

"Don't," Lily warned.

"I didn't say anything," Mary protested.

"You were thinking it."

"I was thinking that he called you the most talented actress in school," Dorcas said. "Which is objectively true, but still nice to hear."

"He's just trying to butter me up so I'll go easy on him in rehearsal."

"Or," Mary said, "he actually respects your talent and is nervous about living up to your standards."

Lily didn't respond, but she saved the message thread to her phone anyway.

Fourth period was AP Calculus, which was normally a nightmare but today felt like a vacation compared to the emotional minefield of the morning. Numbers were predictable. Derivatives followed rules. There was no subtext in mathematics, no hidden meanings or complicated feelings. Just clean, logical problems with clean, logical solutions.

She was in the middle of working through a particularly complex integral when her phone buzzed again.

Theatre Sluts

Mary: emergency meeting in the green room before rehearsal

Dorcas: what kind of emergency?

Mary: the kind where lily needs a pep talk and possibly a sedative

Lily: i can see this conversation

Mary: good. green room. 3:15. be there.

Lily: i hate you both

Dorcas: love you too babe

The rest of calculus passed in a blur of derivatives and limits, and before she knew it, the final bell was ringing and students were flooding the hallways with the particular brand of chaos that only came at the end of a school day. Lily gathered her books slowly, trying to delay the inevitable, but eventually she had to face facts: it was time for blocking rehearsal.

She made her way to the theatre building, her stomach doing acrobatics with each step. The green room was already buzzing with activity when she arrived—costume pieces scattered across every available surface, scripts and sheet music covering the tables, and the familiar smell of stage makeup and hairspray that meant home to her.

Mary and Dorcas were waiting for her, along with what appeared to be an emergency care package consisting of tea, chocolate, and a small bottle of lavender oil.

"Intervention time," Mary announced, patting the couch beside her.

"I don't need an intervention," Lily protested, but she sat down anyway and accepted the cup of tea.

"You've been spiraling all day," Dorcas observed. "We can practically see the anxiety radiating off you."

"I'm not anxious. I'm... prepared."

"You're terrified," Mary corrected gently. "And that's okay. First blocking rehearsal is always weird. But you're going to be amazing, like you always are."

"What if I'm not?" Lily asked in a small voice. "What if all this time I've been telling myself I'm good at this, and I'm actually terrible, and James is going to show up and be naturally brilliant and make me look like an amateur?"

"Then we'll help you hide the body," Dorcas said matter-of-factly.

"Dorcas!"

"What? I'm being supportive."

Mary rolled her eyes and turned back to Lily. "Listen to me. You are incredibly talented. You've been doing this for four years, and you've gotten better with every single show. James Potter may be charming and athletic and annoyingly good-looking, but he's not you. He doesn't have your training or your instincts or your dedication. And most importantly, he doesn't have your heart."

"My heart?"

"The way you love this," Mary explained. "The way you understand these characters from the inside out. The way you make everyone around you better just by caring so much. That's not something you can fake or stumble into. That's earned."

Lily felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "When did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise," Mary said with a grin. "You've just been too stressed to notice."

A knock on the green room door interrupted them, and Remus poked his head in. "Hey, sorry to interrupt, but Dumbledore wants to start in five minutes. You ready?"

Lily took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and nodded. "Ready."

The auditorium was buzzing with nervous energy when they walked in. The entire cast was scattered across the stage and the first few rows of seats, scripts in hand, chattering excitedly about the afternoon ahead. Dumbledore stood at the front with his usual serene smile, while Andi stretched at the piano and McGonagall organized her sheet music.

Lily found herself scanning the room automatically, looking for James without quite meaning to. She spotted him near the back of the stage, deep in conversation with Sirius. He'd changed out of his practice clothes into jeans and a soft gray sweater that made his eyes look impossibly blue, and his hair had dried into its usual artfully messy state. He looked relaxed, confident even, and Lily felt a familiar spike of irritation.

"Alright, my darling thespians," Dumbledore called out, clapping his hands together. "Welcome to our first blocking rehearsal. Today we'll be working through Act One, Scene Two—the train station encounter between Anya and Dmitri. It's a pivotal moment in their relationship, the first time they truly see each other, and I want us to approach it with both playfulness and truth."

Lily felt her stomach clench. Of course they were starting with a scene that was just her and James. Of course.

"Lily, James, if you would join me center stage," Dumbledore continued. "Everyone else, please take a seat and observe. You'll all have your turns, but for now, let's focus on our leads."

Lily walked to center stage on legs that felt like jelly, her script clutched tightly in her hands. James appeared beside her a moment later, and she caught a whiff of his cologne—something clean and woodsy that was definitely not helping her concentration.

"Nervous?" he asked quietly, just for her.

"No," she lied.

He smiled, and it was softer than his usual cocky grin. "Me too."

Before she could process that admission, Dumbledore was launching into his vision for the scene. "This is their meet-cute, if you will, though neither of them knows it yet. Anya is desperate, running from her past, willing to do anything to get to Paris. Dmitri is cynical, world-weary, but there's something about her that catches his attention. There's an immediate spark, but also wariness. They're both survivors, both guarded. The attraction is there, but so is the suspicion."

Lily nodded, falling into the familiar rhythm of character analysis. This was her comfort zone—the intellectual work of understanding motivation and subtext.

"Now," Dumbledore continued, "I want you to forget about the blocking for a moment and just play the scene. Find the truth of it first, and then we'll figure out where your bodies need to be."

They ran through the scene once, just standing there, scripts in hand. It was rough—James stumbled over a few lines, and Lily was so focused on not looking at him that she missed her cue twice. But there was something there, a spark of connection that surprised her.

"Good," Dumbledore said when they finished. "I can see the potential. Now, let's add some movement. Anya, you enter from stage left—you've just gotten off the train, you're disoriented, overwhelmed. Dmitri, you're already there, watching the crowd. You notice her immediately."

They began to move through the scene, Dumbledore calling out directions as they went. "Lily, try moving downstage on that line—yes, perfect. James, I want you to follow her, but keep your distance. You're intrigued but cautious."

It was awkward at first, the way blocking rehearsals always were. They bumped into each other twice, and James forgot which direction was stage left, but gradually they found a rhythm. Lily discovered that James was actually a good listener—he responded to her choices, built on them, made her feel like they were creating something together rather than just reciting lines.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said after they'd run through it several times. "Now, let's work on the moment where Dmitri first touches Anya's hand. It's a small gesture, but it's the first real connection between them. James, I want you to reach for her almost without thinking, and then catch yourself. Lily, you're startled but not entirely displeased."

They moved through the moment slowly, James's hand hovering near hers before making contact. His fingers were warm, calloused from years of sports, and Lily felt an unexpected jolt of electricity at the touch. She looked up at him, startled, and found him staring back with an expression she couldn't quite read.

"Perfect," Dumbledore breathed. "Hold that moment. Feel the weight of it. This is the beginning of everything for them."

They held the tableau for what felt like an eternity, James's hand covering hers, their eyes locked. Lily could hear her heartbeat in her ears, could feel the warmth radiating from his body where he stood close enough to touch. For a moment, she forgot they were acting.

"And... release," Dumbledore said finally, and they sprang apart like they'd been burned.

From the audience, Sirius let out a low whistle. "Damn, you two. That was intense."

"Language, Mr. Black," McGonagall called out, but she was smiling.

They ran through the scene several more times, refining the blocking, adjusting the timing. With each repetition, Lily felt more comfortable, more connected to both her character and her scene partner. James, she had to admit, was better than she'd expected. He wasn't perfect—his line delivery was sometimes a little flat, and he had a tendency to rush through the emotional moments—but he was present, engaged, willing to take direction.

"I think that's enough for today," Dumbledore said finally. "Excellent work, both of you. I can see this partnership is going to be something special."

As the cast began to disperse, gathering their things and chattering about the rehearsal, James lingered beside her.

"Hey," he said, running a hand through his hair. "That was... good. I think."

"It was fine," Lily said, trying to sound casual.

"Just fine?" He looked almost disappointed.

She studied his face, looking for signs of his usual cockiness, but all she saw was genuine uncertainty. "It was better than fine," she admitted. "You actually listened to the direction."

"I'm full of surprises," he said with a small smile.

"Apparently."

They stood there for a moment, the stage emptying around them, neither quite ready to leave. Finally, James cleared his throat.

"So, um, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to run lines sometime? Outside of rehearsal, I mean. I know I'm still pretty rough around the edges, and I thought maybe..."

"You want to rehearse together?" Lily asked, surprised.

"Only if you want to," he said quickly. "I know you probably have better things to do than babysit the amateur, but I really want to do right by this role. By the show. By... you."

The last word was spoken so quietly she almost missed it, but it hit her like a physical blow. She looked at him—really looked at him—and saw something she hadn't expected: vulnerability.

"Okay," she heard herself say. "We can run lines."

His face lit up like Christmas morning. "Really?"

"Don't make me regret it, Potter."

"I won't," he said earnestly. "I promise."

As they gathered their things and headed for the exit, Lily caught sight of Sirius and Remus near the back of the auditorium. Sirius was gesticulating wildly, clearly explaining something with great enthusiasm, while Remus listened with the patient expression of someone who had heard this particular story many times before.

"Remus," Sirius was saying as they approached, "you have to help me understand the blocking for the ballroom scene. I keep forgetting whether I'm supposed to enter from upstage or downstage."

"Sirius," Remus said patiently, "we haven't blocked the ballroom scene yet."

"Right, but when we do, I want to be prepared. So if I enter from upstage, do I cross to center or do I stay in the wings? And what about the dance sequence? Am I leading or following? Because I feel like Vlad would be a leader, you know? He's got that commanding presence."

Remus looked like he was trying very hard not to smile. "We'll figure it all out when we get there."

"But what if I mess it up? What if I forget my blocking and ruin the whole scene? What if—"

"Sirius," Remus interrupted gently, "you're overthinking this. You're a good performer. You'll be fine."

"You think I'm good?" Sirius asked, and there was something almost shy in his voice.

"I think you're very good," Remus said, and Lily saw him blush slightly.

James nudged her with his elbow. "They're hopeless," he whispered.

"Completely," she agreed, and found herself smiling despite everything.

As they walked out of the theatre together, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus, Lily felt something shift inside her chest. Maybe this wouldn't be the disaster she'd been expecting. Maybe, just maybe, it might actually be something good.

Her phone buzzed with a new message, and she glanced down to see the group chat lighting up with post-rehearsal commentary.

Cast & Chaos: Anastasia 2025

Mary: okay but the CHEMISTRY though

Dorcas: i'm not even mad that was actually beautiful

Sirius: my boy james is WHIPPED

James: shut up sirius

Regulus: i'm going to throw myself into the orchestra pit

Pandora: reg honey no the pit isn't even built yet

Regulus: then i'll throw myself into the regular pit of despair

Alice: you're all being very dramatic

Frank: says the girl playing the dowager empress

Alice: that's DIFFERENT

Marlene: everyone shut up and go home. we have music rehearsal tomorrow and if you're not warmed up i will end you

Severus: some of us are trying to study

Sirius: some of us are trying to LIVE sev

Remus: goodnight everyone. great work today.

James: lily you free tomorrow after rehearsal to run lines?

Lily: ...yes

Mary: 👀👀👀

Dorcas: ** 👀👀👀👀👀

Lily: y:** i hate you all

James: see you tomorrow evans

Lily put her phone away and walked to her car, her script tucked under her arm and a strange flutter in her stomach that she absolutely refused to analyze. Tomorrow was another day, another rehearsal, another chance to prove to herself that she could handle whatever this partnership with James Potter was going to throw at her.

She just hoped she was ready for it.