A Night Time Stroll
Chapter 2 - Dwelling on Dreams
Written 2002-2003

Lily woke up later than usual, staring at the top of her four poster absently. She'd had the most wonderful dream the night before! It had turned from a nightmare into something quite pleasant. . .and the boy who she hated, who teased her, had come from nowhere to save her. She scowled a little at this, then remembered how graceful the stag had been, dancing amongst the stars...

The witch threw open her curtains and swung her legs over the side, stretching, allowing a yawn to escape her. From far off in the distance, the shouting and cheers of a Quiddith match heralded a violent and bloody sport. Gryffindor vs Slytherin today. Lily slipped her feet into her ug boots and walked over the dormitory's ornate window, peering out at the brooms just visible against the overcast sky.

She smiled sarcastically and turned back to her messy bed. It was then she noticed them. Sitting on her bedside table was an array of flowers with the soil still smeared across them. They were white lillies with upright green stems. Surprised, Lily picked them up and studied them as though they held some kind of threat. Well, who knew? The Marauders were always planning new pranks.

She set them down on her pillow, muttering, "If you explode or anything, you'll be sorry."

The lillies twinkled a little in the sun light spread across the bed, almost smiling innocently. Mentally cursing her own paranoia and stupidness, Lily got changed into her robes and made her way down to the empty common room.

The fire crackled merrily, taking the chill out of the surroundings. The lone occupant sat by a window, eyes on the Quidditch game even though there was no possibilty in seeing what was going. By the sound of the combined cheering of three houses, she was willing to be that Gryffindor was in the lead.

Her eyes travelled down to the Whomping Willow and she wondered about her dream. James Potter was not smart enough to be an Animagus, Lily conceded. So, just a dream then. Still doubtful, she rested her head on the side of the armchair and looked into the flickering flames absently. A nasty little voice in ehr head was telling her how lovely and graceful stags were and how James Potter could turn into one.

"Shut up," Lily told the voice in her head crossly. "It was just a dream."

Oh, was it?

Lily rubbed her forehead. She was really slipping up - hearing voices wasn't a particularly good thing. Even worse was answering. Even so, she found herself muttering, "Of course it was. I stayed right here all last night."

Have you checked your shoes then? Muddy to the ankle.

"Oh for cripes sake!" she said furiously and stormed out of the common room past the Fat Lady.

She had no real desire to be talking to herself like that, when she could be reading up something in the library. However, her feet lead her out the front doors and down towards the Quidditch pitch. This did not sit well with Lily who was beginning to wonder about her own sanity. She caught sight of Snape sitting behind the stands with a group of Slytherins. Her lip twisted. Ungrateful little blighter, he was...

Had it been so long ago, last year, when she'd tried to help him? Oh, forget it. Slytherins weren't exactly the people you think about for a very long space of time, especially if they called you "mudblood" just when you'd tried to save their sorry arse.

Lily wound her way up the stairs of the the Gryffindor stand and paused at the opening, the roar of a crowd slamming into her with brute force. Finding it hard to breath, she put one foot in front of the other. She'd never liked crowds and frankly, had never been in one. Around her, housemates waved banners, each sporting a red and yellow scarf.

She looked up at the game and squinted to see James Potter. The boy in question was performing giddy spins and curves high above, smirking as his admirers gasped in awre. Lily itched to slap his face. She bit her lip as he put on a sudden burst of concentration, diving for the ground. Her hands clenched before her, but she forced herself to relax. Who cared if he got hurt anyway?

James rose, the struggling Snith clenched in his hand. The stands erupted in noise, the Slytherins' boos drowned out in roars of jubilation. Lily let out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding. Angry at herself, she made a hurried escape back across the grounds. It didn't do to dwell on dreams.