Potions, Quidditch, and Miracles Waiting To Happen

A Miracle

Hidden

Somewhere in the distance

between space and time

Lies a miracle

Just

Waiting

For explosion

Motivation

To burst into the vision

Of situation.

Hidden

Somewhere in the distance

between space and time

Lies a miracle

Just . . .

Waiting.

"Hey, Evans, d'you want to—"

"No."

"Well what about if I—"

"No."

"Not even though—"

"No."

A brief silence fell upon the table. Then, timidly, "Evans, will you—"

"No."

James Potter sighed and finished meekly, "I was going to ask if you'd help me with my Potions homework." Lily Evans looked up from her book, not bothering to hide her surprise.

". . . Er . . . yes." James nodded happily and scooted his chair closer. The redhead rolled her eyes, but said nothing. She skimmed the lines of the potion James was studying and sighed. "Potter, are you telling me you can't mix a simple Clascate Potiom?" James blushed.

"No." He winced. "I mean, yes. I mean no. I mean, yes, that's what I'm telling you, and no, I can't make one." Lily rolled her eyes and bit her lip in concentration.

"Well, what do you need help with? What don't you understand?"

He paused and read over the potion again. "Well . . ." he said delicately, "It doesn't make sense. If you add dragon scales to boomslang skin, you should get a poisonous reaction, shouldn't you?"

"Yes, but the added unicorn saliva dilutes it." James frowned, burrowing his brow. Lily sighed and shook her head, red tendrils tossed about on her face. "Look, Potter—think of it this way. If you have a Chaser and a Bludger, it's not a good combination, right?" He nodded hesitantly. "But if you add as Beater to help out the Chaser, it's not such a problem."

James grinned. "Well, assuming it's a good Beater."

"Exactly!" He looked surprised, apparently not having expected such an enthusiastic reaction. Lily ignored it, completely involved in the technicalities and theory of the whole thing. "And if you don't have such a good Beater, like, say a Beater who can't aim, okay? Well, then he might be able to keep the Chaser safe once or twice, but other than that he's no good."

James bit his lip. "What is an example of a 'bad Beater' when dragon scales and boomslang skin are combined?"

Lily thought for a moment and then said decidedly, "Well, probably something like centaur hair."

He nodded. "Okay, well, I guess I can understand that . . . but here it says 'Add two fistfuls dragon scales, three fistfuls boomslang skin, one half beaker unicorn saliva.' That's less than both of the two; and come to think of it, what if I added three fistfuls boomslang instead of two? What would the difference be?"

She bit her lip again and studied the book for a moment. "Well, if you were to increase the amount of either boomslang or dragon scales, the whole thing would be thrown off balance. It wouldn't be the same potion."

"So it matters in relation to the completed potion, or just the two mixed together?"

Lily shrugged. "Think of it like this: if you have four Keepers—"

"There is only thee hoops, Lily."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine—if you have three Keepers and two Chasers, and both Chasers have balls—"

"—Quaffles, Lily, Quaffles—"

"Sorry . . . both have Quaffles; they still haven't much of a chance, do they?" James shook his head. "But if we add onto, say, the number of Quaffles that each Chaser have. It increases the odds favorably for the Chasers, right?"

James nodded excitedly. "Yes! And if you add more Keepers, it decreases it again, right? So the reaction of the two ingredients really just depends on the amounts of each!"

Lily nodded with satisfaction. "Precisely. Good job, James!"

He beamed at her. "You called me 'James'."

She looked surprised. "I . . . well, will you look at that. I did." She grinned. "Got caught up in the moment there, I guess." He shrugged, not minding much, and returned to his book.

"Thanks . . . er . . . Lily?" He said the named timidly; almost afraid she would admonish him. She just rolled her eyes and returned to the book she was reading.

"Don't get comfortable with it," she said, smiling just a little. "Only when I tutor you. Other than that, last-name-basis." James laughed and grinned impishly, "Well, I'll just need to be a bit more stupid then, won't I?"

She laughed. "Don't fail for little old me, Potter," she said, shaking her head.

He pouted. "Last-name-basis again?"

"We're not still tutoring, are we?"

He made a face. "No, I suppose not."

Suddenly, the library's quiet was invaded by the sound of loud, raucous voices. A group of four girls and three boys had marched in, talking and laughing. Lily pursed her lips in disapproval; James slouched in his chair, trying to hide behind his book. Unfortunately for him, one of the boys had spotted him and yelled, "Oi! It's Potter!"

He groaned and swore under his breath. Then he came out from his 'hiding' spot and pasted a grin on his face. "'Lo, Prewett," he said. "Lower you're voice—Madame Pinch is on the rampage today."

The boy shrugged. "Eh, that old bat? Who cares about her?"

A few girls had turned their heads at the sound of 'Potter', and discreetly shooting him admiring glances. He felt his face heat up a little. Not in front of Lily, not in front of Lily, he begged silently. Please, Merlin, not in front of Lily. "Your new girlfriend, James?" Prewett asked, dropping the last name formality.

Lily pursed her lips again, clearly agitated, and James winced. "'Fraid not, Gregory," he returned quickly. "She's been helping me with my Potions homework." He groaned, motioning a hand to the ever-growing pile of it. "It's all Greek to me."

Gregory cocked his head to the side, a small smirk on his lips. "James . . . you speak Greek."

James laughed then, blushing a little. "So I do!" He said, and shook his head. "But it's just an expression, Greg. There's nothing between Evans and I." He laughed again. "Or haven't you heard me ask her out every day since third year and be turned down each time?"

Prewett grinned at that and winked at Lily. She ignored him. "Ooo, not very friendly," he said silkily. James' lips straightened into a thin line and prayed again, Not in front of Lily, not in front of Lily . . . "What did he say your name was?"

"Oh, leave her alone, Prewett," on of the girls behind him said, rolling her eyes. She smiled apologetically. "Sorry about that, Evans. He doesn't know his limits."

She winked at James and he smiled gratefully in return, mentally thanking the Gods for Alice Longbottom. Gregory sighed, and the group turned, whacking on another on the back and laughing as they tromped out. "Sorry about that," he said meekly as the silence came again. Damn you, Prewett, he thought remosely. So much for camaraderie.

Then, Lily Evans laughed. He cocked an eyebrow, just glad she wasn't screaming. "Ooo, not very friendly," she mocked, barely able to breathe. "And then he asks my name? Oh, please tell me nobody actually falls for that!" James grinned and shrugged, oddly amused that the whole situation was entertained her. Her laughter tapered off into silence and both turned back to their respective work.

She giggled softly, once, and then did it again. "You speak Greek," she managed finally, through her laughter. "Of all the languages to be fluent in, you speak Greek."

He shrugged. "Went to school for it 'till I was eleven. Grandmum's orders. She's Greek herself—might be a large part of the charm." He chuckled himself, and she finally took a deep breath and ignored him again, back to her old self. He shook his head admiringly. It was nothing sort of a miracle that she was still speaking to him.

It's been a good day so far . . . he thought slowly. No harm in trying . . .

"Hey, Evans, d'you want to—"

"No." She said immediately. He sighed.

"Not even if I—"

"No."

"Even though—"

"No."

"What about after—"

"No."

He sighed and then piped up, "Well, how about helping me with this bloody stack, then?" She grinned back at him, her eyes twinkling.

"Well, if you insist."

"What if I insist that you—"

"No."

James hid his grin. She'll come around, he thought confidently. It's just a miracle waiting to happen.

He sighed. "Fine, fine. Get over here, then."

Except, she'd never moved her chair away.

He smiled again, turning away so that she couldn't see.

Hidden

Somewhere in the distance

Between space in time

Lies a miracle . . .