Lily Evans and the Marauder's Secrets

Chapter 6: Tutoring With Potter

Author's Note: Read [bracketed] text as struck-through. 

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In Potions on Monday morning, a piece of parchment hits me in the side of my head.

I look in the direction it came from. Potter is staring way too intently at Slughorn's writing on the chalkboard to be innocent. I narrow my eyes and sweep the balled-up parchment into my bag, turning back to my notes. Professor Slughorn is going over the finer points of poison antidotes, something we touched on only briefly last year, and I don't want to miss anything.

I've barely got the next bullet point scribbled down though when another parchment hits me, this time with a little more force and in my eye.

"Ouch!" I hiss.

Severus glances at me. He's totally focused on the lesson, his own parchment covered in cramped spiky handwriting. "What?" he whispers, pausing briefly with his quill suspended.

"Nothing," I mumble, brushing the ball into my lap. We haven't talked much today. When I arrived in the Potions classroom mere minutes before class started, he used those minutes to apologize profusely for his very rude (and frankly rather intimidating) mates on Saturday night. "Evan is like that with everyone," he'd said. "He likes to feel in charge." I'd shrugged the whole thing off, but it's already starting to feel like fifth year all over again, Severus defending his Slytherin buddies, me not really believing him, everything feeling off-kilter as a resort.

I shoot Potter another look. He's still pretending to be engrossed in Slughorn's list of frequently used antidote ingredients and their properties, but his eyes flick toward me when Slughorn turns his back to annotate something.

Open it, he mouths and mimes flattening out a paper before bending over his notes again.

I scowl at the back of his head. Passing notes in class? Hardly proper Head Boy behavior, and now he's dragging me down with them.

Though, to be fair, Potter probably knows if he tried to talk to me after class like a normal respectable student, I'd just try to run off again.

I wait until Slughorn turns us loose to start working on constructing a feasible antidote for the Draught of Living Death and Severus is getting more ingredients from the supply cupboard to smooth the crumpled parchment out on my lap.

When can you do tutoring? Tonight in the library?

Gah. Tutoring. I'd kind of been pretending that if I ignored it – and Potter – the whole situation would go away and I wouldn't have to deal with it. But unfortunately, Minerva McGonagall is right, as are Alice and Potter, and everyone who witnessed my mishap in Transfiguration class knows it. If I have any hope of succeeding this year, I need help. Specifically, Potter's help.

However, Transfiguration tutoring on a Monday? The first night after a weekend? And I know McGonagall's going to give us homework. Not to mention Ancient Runes and Potions and my plan to go knock on Professor Dumbledore's office tonight if he still wasn't at dinner...

Slughorn bustles by my table. "House points to those who impress me most," he exclaims to the class. He looks at me with an expectant smile, as if he knows he can count on me to impress. Well, I hate to disappoint, Professor, but I'm not sure I'm up to performing my best today.

I look over to Potter, and he's watching me, gold steam rising from his cauldron, where he's already started brewing his antidote. I shake my head in a nonverbal response to his note. He frowns.