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Announcing The Dates


Every single morning for the next week, before he even changed into his clothes for the day, James got up and rushed down to the common room to check if the announcement for the next Hogsmeade Weekend had been posted on the bulletin board by the portrait hole.

“Ferfuckssakes, Prongs,” Sirius moaned from his bed, which was closest to the door, “At least close the bleeding door softer… Some of us have hang overs.”

“And by some, he means him,” said Remus from his bed, “Seeing as he’s the only one that’s got a bloody drinking problem.”

“Fuck off,” Sirius groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. “I haven’t got a drinking problem, it’s a sobriety problem, what I have.”

“A sobriety problem?” Peter asked, confused, pulling on his socks.

Sirius’s voice was muffled by the pillow, “Yes. If I stop drinking too long, I become sober and being sober is fucking the worst.”

James returned, frowning, “They still haven’t posted the next Hogsmeade weekend.”

Nobody commented. Sirius went on lazing about beneath his pillow shelter, Remus was buttoning his sweater and tucking his tie in to his vest and Peter was struggling with getting the spell to tie his shoes just right. James looked about at them. “Haven’t you lot heard me? They still haven’t posted Hogsmeade weekend.”

“What in the hell is the matter with them! Prongs,” said Sirius in a sarcastic tone, “Better go bust down those fucking gargoyles and give Dumbledore a what-for about it! He obviously doesn’t know that you’re waiting to find out when you’re going to snog Evans at Madam Puddifoot’s.”

Peter laughed.

James frowned, “We aren’t going to snog at Madam Puddifoot’s!” he paused. “It might be the Three Broomsticks.”

Remus shook his head.

“Well, send an owl to the Daily Prophet! They’ll be wanting to update the press release,” Sirius said.

“Screw all of you guys,” James muttered. “I dunno why I’m even friends with you lot.” He morosely set to getting his clothes out of his trunk and messing up his hair with his palm in frustration.

Remus said patiently, “James. They’ll post the dates soon.”

“I know. I’m just afraid she’s going to think up an excuse for it.”

“She won’t,” Remus replied.




Lily Evans was getting just as anxious. “Have you heard anything about when it’s going to be?” she asked, sitting on Ali Prewitt’s bed in the fourth year dorms. They were working on homework together and Lily couldn’t concentrate.

Ali looked up, “No. Usually in April though, isn’t it?”

Lily sighed. “It is April, though.”

Ali nodded, “It is.” She paused, turning her eyes back to her textbook, then back up to Lily’s face. “You’re awfully excited about Hogsmeade this go… Wouldn’t have anything to do with who you’re going with, would it?”

“Excited?” Lily scoffed, “I’m nervous is what I am. Dreading it, really.” She kept her eyes carefully turned from Ali, even though she could feel her staring at her, sizing her up, smirking at her.

“Right. Dreading it.” Ali nodded. There was a long moment of pause. “I hear James Potter is dreading it, too.”

Lily looked up. “Is he?”

“Frank said he’s heard James Potter run down the stairs every single morning to check if the dates have been posted.”

Lily’s eyes met Ali’s and she bit her lips. “Well.” She looked down at her book again.

“Have you chosen what you’re going to wear yet?” Ali asked casually.

Lily had gone through her closet about thirty-seven times. She’d discovered she hated everything she owned. Which, granted, most of her things were school uniforms. She had the dress she’d planned to wear before holiday at the Yule Ball but that was too fancy for a day at Hogsmeade. She hesitated. “I was trying to find something, but… I haven’t really.”

Ali said, “Maybe your brown skirt with that pretty gold sweater?”

“Maybe,” Lily answered.

“I could do your hair.”

Lily blushed. “I was just going to wear it down.”

“That would be pretty. You know he loves your hair.”

“No he doesn’t.” Lily paused. “Does he?”

“He about has a heart attack every time you toss it.” Ali smiled. “And you should wear that rose water perfume you have.”

Lily felt her heartbeat quicken. “Ali… we’re only going as friends, I think.”

Ali raised an eyebrow. “Is that what he said?”

“No.”

“James Potter doesn’t think you’re going as friends, then.”

Lily turned the page in her textbook absently, just for something to do. She wasn’t even sure she’d finished reading the last page, honestly. She was so unfocused, dizzied almost by the idea of it. “What if something happens?” Lily asked, “What if we go out on a date and something happens that we end up not… not being friends? We’ve only just begun really being friends.”

Ali shrugged. “You won’t know until you try it.”

“Yeah.”

“And if you don’t try it you’ll never know,” Ali added, spinning the words and looking at Lily meaningfully.

Lily nodded.

“Lily,” Ali asked, “Why are you so afraid of falling in love with James Potter?”

Lily said, “Because…” she paused.

At one point, the answer had been easy. The answer would have been because it would mean losing Severus Snape as a friend. And it was probably still true. But Lily found herself wondering if that was really a good enough reason anymore…

“I don’t know,” Lily murmured.




“TWENTY-FOUR APRIL!!!! TWENTY-FOUR APRIL!!!!” James banged through the door. “TWENTY. FOUR. APRIL.” He grabbed onto Peter’s arms and danced about the dormitory, swinging Peter about with joy. “I’M GOING TO HOGSMEADE WITH EVANS ON TWENTY-FOUR APRIL!!!!” Peter was quite dizzy after spiraling about three times with James, who let him go on one of the spins and Peter stumbled into his bed, crawling up into the center of the mattress, still feeling the rush of James’s excitement. James rushed back down the stairs to look at the mercifully printed notice again, wanting to see it, to let the words sink in, to stare at it and think about how bloody fabulous his life would be on 24 April.

Sirius pushed his pillow off his head. “What the hell is going on?”

“I think they’ve posted the Hogsmeade weekend dates,” Remus replied.

“Twenty-four April, is it?” Peter asked.

“That’s what I hear,” Remus answered, smirking.

Sirius sat up. “Where’d he go?”

“Back downstairs,” answered Remus.

“Thank Merlin, I rather hated being spun like a top,” Peter commented.

Sirius got up and shrugged on his jumper and hurried downstairs in his bare feet and pyjamas to find James standing before the parchment announcing the date of the weekend, staring up at the bold black lettering and Minerva McGonagall’s signature at the bottom. He stepped up beside James and nudged him.

James looked over. “Look at it, Padfoot. It’s glorious.”

Sirius said, “I’m happy for you, mate,” and he slung his arm ‘round James’s waist. “It’s about bloody time. But …. James… I swear to Merlin, you come in the dormitory screaming like that at this time of day again and I will absolutely hex you. And that is a promise.” He patted James’s shoulders. “Just a warning.”

James grinned. “I’ll try to resist. But I can’t promise anything.”

Sirius let his hand slide across James’s back and turned back to the dormitory stairs, leaving his best mate there to stare at the parchment on the wall announcing the day of his first date with Lily Evans. James grinned and sat down on the floor, crossing his legs and staring up at it in excitement.