&OBVIOUS(LY) |JAMES|

[Lily Evans]

Something about red hair is just very obvious.

Black and white and re(a)d all over. No way around it; even behind painted masks and glowing dresses, Lily Evans was marked by her red, red, hair. A distinguishing feature, if you will. Not that she minded, not really, but at an event where the idea was to conceal your identity (to SOME degree) it made things rather difficult. No one had trouble finding her though—easy to spot. Finding her friends, however, was not as easy—in fact; she had all ready mistaken three people for Paige alone! So many brunettes—and behind the masks it was easy to make an error in recognition. As another song ended, Lily laughed, hands up in the air, finally surrendering defeat to the dance floor—if only for now—white flag for this battle, but the war was not over yet. Green eyes narrowed behind her mask in amusement as she excused herself from the Ravenclaw boy, weaving her way out of the crowds, emerging to the safety of cool shadows tracing along the walls; becoming just another flower.

Lily did not, in fact, have a date, though there was a sixth year Hufflepuff hovering in close proximity who had all ready asked her to dance twice and offered to bring her a glass of punch. She danced with several others (the most recent the boy from Ravenclaw), not wanting to turn anyone down, just one dance, after all except for James Potter who she had, unabashedly, turned down flat; s t e a m r o l l e r. In truth, she felt a bit bad about the whole thing, somehow…he just … brought out the worst in her, but she refused to be another trophy on his shelf—just after her for the chase, not the prize. Speaking of… just where WAS he and his little group of miscreants? She would not be surprised if they were up to something (bad, wrong, stupid), because how could the they pass up a chance to show off in front of everyone? They never had before. Lily hoped that perhaps this year would be different, after all, they were older now, sixth years! Surely they could make it through one evening without pulling a prank. Surely.

Surely. Not.

Never thinking of anyone else, only themselves, that was the problem. Bloody—WHY was she even thinking about them, HIM? Well, she wouldn’t—she wasn’t. Sweeping a curl back behind her ear, she tried to tangle it back into her twist of hair, continuing to glance around the room, a light smile on her lips. Everyone truly did seem to be enjoying themselves. Leaning back against the wall, she drew in a deep breath, trying to take it all in—just… absorb it—a flower, after all, taking in sunlight through photosynthesis. Taking strands of light and converting to strings of sugar. They would all need moments like these to hold onto this coming year… she could feel it—her mind never far from the continuing stories of murders and kidnappings in not only the Daily Prophet, but also the muggle papers. But maybe for tonight, just tonight, she could forget all that—cast aside those seeds and just let the petals bloom.

[James Potter]

His eyes were searching for her. If she was already in the great hall, he doubted he wouldn’t have seen her already. He’d recognise his Lily-bee even if she tried her best to hide from him disguised with mud from top to bottom.

No, James Alexander Potter was a little too skilled for that.

He could close his eyes, wander around pretending to be blind and constantly bump into people, but he’d still find her. And no, he wasn’t exaggerating. It was just something about Lily that made him just know that she was in the same room as him. Perhaps it was her unique, flowery scent? Perhaps it was her fiery red hair that stood out compared to the other girls’ hair? Or maybe it was her sparkling emerald green eyes that was hard to dismiss as some other girls'?

All he knew was that he was going to find her at the masquerade ball, and find a way to finally impress her. Exactly how he was going to do that, with the Big Prank all set to begin, he had no idea. But he will find a way. He had just settled down at the table with the rest of the Marauders and Zara, who was Sirius’ date, he saw her.

She looked beautiful. Breath-taking. Amazing. Gorgeous. Was he running out of words? Maybe. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her after that. From where he sat, he continued watching her, how she mistook a stranger for her friend (he had chuckled at that), how she had danced with a few boys (a Hufflepuff boy had asked her to dance twice already. It seemed as if his prank was not going to be just targeted on Slytherins this time...) and how she had just finished dancing with a Ravenclaw boy.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. This was a masquerade ball. They were all behind their respective masks. They were, in a sense, hidden. A smirk started growing on James’ face, and he endlessly praised his own brain for the idea that had just struck him. This was going to be his only chance to leave any kind of impression on his beloved redhead.

Excusing himself from his friends, he escaped to the lavatory. Once there, he adjusted his mask and combed his hair down (it was much easier since there was the strap of the mask holding it down, thankfully) and attempted to change his voice just a little. As soon as he was happy with what result he had gotten from the mini-makeover, he quickly made his way back to the Great Hall and once again looked around, spotting Lily near a pillar, watching everyone.

Wearing on a very un-James like smile and switching his usual strut to a normal walk, he moved up to Lily, and smiled at her. “Good evening, milady. I see you’re having fun. And I’m sure your beautiful face is going to look even more radiant, if that is even possible, when on the dance floor, like I’ve observed through your previous dance. Mind if I have this dance?” he asked her, holding his hand out for her to take. Yes, he was being direct, and yes, Lily just might figure out it was him...but he had faith in his tiny ‘disguise’.

[Lily Evans]

No House badges, no robes, no striped scarfs—the only way to know which House someone was from was to recognize them, or ask (and be answered, of course). Another way to remind them that they were more than just members of their respective Houses, but members of Hogwarts, members of one society, one world. It’s a small world… after all. Not that House pride wasn’t encouraged as well, but it was nice every now and then to forget about all of that (competition, competition) and just be… people. Nothing more, nothing less. Anonymity. Something sort of magical about the whole thing, wasn’t there? All pretenses dropped, no lines drawn in the sand—so simple. And Lily loved simplicity. Just. The. Basics.

Masks. Gowns. Dancing. Lily liked to dance—to surrender her mind to mechanical motions and just BE. On the dance floor, she felt free—all inhibitions could fade away because everyone was listening to the music, moving to the beat, no judgments no promises, no demands. Wished she could take her shoes off though—like when she and Petunia were children (heart w R u N g and s T r U n G out at the memory, something bittersweet--) and ran outside barefoot in the pouring rain, singing at the top of their lungs; Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band(!) and she was Lennon and Petunia was Ringo and her mum would shoo them back inside with towels warm from the dryer and hot tea with just a touch of honey--- Lily paused, shaking it off, adjusting her mask.

Something in her periphery, someone else moving along the walls—turning her gaze to the left she watched as a boy made his way over. Casual and unassuming. An open, natural smile. Straightening from her slouch against the wall she subconsciously smoothed her dress, trying to discern just who it was behind that mask—something familiar and yet… she didn't think they’d ever met before. As he stopped in front of her she laughed, nose wrinkling and a hand moving to cover her mouth—a habit. “Charming, aren’t you?” Know what they say about flattery…where will it get you?

“Good evening.” Despite herself she blushed, grateful for the mask. “You’ve been watching me, then? I’m not sure whether I should be flattered or hex you… yet.” Smiling, she paused, trying to place the voice—but she couldn’t. Tilting her head, she lifted her hand tentatively, head tilting as she tried to figure him out. “…Do I… know you?” Fingers curled, but she placed her hand in his. “Won’t you at least tell me who it is I have the privilege of dancing with?” Very forward, after all, yet still polite. An art, really, one that a certain someone who will not be named would know nothing about, who would never even ASK but just DEMAND-- as if he had a right to everyone and everything. Following him out onto the dance floor, she continued to watch him—people made up of pieces after all, just had to put them together. Biting down on her lip, she glanced back up to him. “Are you going to take the lead, or should I show you how it’s done?”

[James Potter]

James had always been able to read Lily's emotions through her facial expressions. Maybe it was because he always stared at her (quite the creeper, but only for Lily). He could always find out what she was thinking just by her tiny reactions, subtle body movements. Of course, he has been wrong before. Especially whenever he asks her out for the gazillionth time.

But somehow, that evening, he seemed to be guessing what was going through Lily's mind as he talked to her, albeit as a stranger. Despite his sudden advance, she was flattered. Which both baffled and excited James, really, but he didn't show it at all. "Oh, don't worry, I wasn't stalking you or anything..." liarliarpantsonfire "...but it's hard to take your eyes away from someone as beautiful as you," he continued his flattery shamelessly.

"And why don't we keep this true to the theme of the ball...masquerade. Why don't you find out at the end of the ball, who I am? Why take the fun away from all of these, eh?" he grinned, answering her questions of whether or not she knew him and who he was. Of course, he wasn't sure if he was really going to let her know that he was James Potter, but it'd all depend on how the evening goes. In other words, he was pretty much terrified what Lily would do if she ever finds out it was him who had tricked her onto the dance floor. "But don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her. "You are safe with me," he whispered right into her ear before pulling her close and spinning the both of them onto the dance floor.

He spun her around, wrapping his arm around her waist and holding her hand delicately in his. "Let me, Lily," he breathed when she asked who should take the lead.

James Potter was officially understanding the phrase 'heaven on Earth'.

How many countless days has he dreamt of holding her so close? How many years has he been waiting for this moment? Well, of course, she didn't know it was him...but honestly, James didn't care anymore. Just holding her, waltzing to the kind of music he never hears, was more than enough for him right then.

Smiling, he looked down at her, still maintaining his disguise as much as he could. "You are a fantastic dancer, I see," he winked at her as he twirled her delicately, before pulling her close again.

[Lily Evans]

A hint of suspicion in her eyes at the choice of word: stalking. Though perhaps this mystery man was simply referring to the person EVERYONE knew stalked her on a daily basis: James Potter. Somehow he always did manage to wind up in the library when she was, or find her in the empty Charms classroom studying; even her friends referred to him as her stalker, jokingly of course, but with a ring of truth to it. Maybe, maybe he just wanted her to know he wasn’t like THAT. “…You aren’t half bad yourself,” she shrugged, a casual movement, almost playful. All part of the show, and that’s what this was—every single one of them center stage, donning costumes, and playing the part(s). Fun was not the first word most people thought of to describe Lily Evans… but she could be… and it was a lot easier behind a mask, without exams looming over her, without the weight of that oh-so-prefectly badge on her robes. Without responsibility, and she was always oh so responsible.

But not tonight. Tonight she was just a girl. And he was just a boy. And that was the story.

“…Okay,” she agreed, almost hesitantly, though she couldn’t help but grin at the thought. Not one for surprises—she was, as her friends put it, sadly lacking spontaneity. “I suppose you’re right,” she amended, “knowing who you are would really defeat the point of the mask,” and all things should be allowed to pursue their intended purpose. “Though you could indulge me… at least tell me, have… we met before? You seem familiar.” Okay. So. She tried. For five seconds. A very successful five seconds. But she had to ask—she needed at least ONE answer—that’s what questions were for, after all, to be answered! Though the magic of anonymity was certainly appealing. That she could dance with this boy and never know who he was… see a passing glance in the hallways and wonder if maybe, just maybe… no, no, no. She would have to know. ORITWOULDKILLHER.

Mouth opened to continue when the boy suddenly leaned forward, whispering in her ear, before waltzing her off onto the dance floor, her feet nimbly moving over one another one another in a twirl. A peal of laughter escaped her, breath catching as he pulled her in. There was something soft about his touch—not assertive, certainly not aggressive, but not passive either—she did, in fact, feel safe with him. Something unassuming in his movements and yet he managed to lead the way flawlessly—in a manner that felt as if she were not necessarily following, but that their dance was a collaboration—her movements in time with his. “That… remains to be seen,” she added a bit breathlessly, after all… in a sense, she had never felt quite so vulnerable and vulnerability meant risk and risk meant compromising safety. And that, well that was a bit terrifying. Of course, this was only one DANCE after all- even if her heart WAS fluttering in her chest, a bird in the cage of her ribs.

Something beautiful about a waltz; something lovely. Careful movements, in time with the music, gliding across the dance floor. A bit hard to find in muggle London, these days. Almost magical—though there was something to be said for jumping up and down screaming to the Beatles in your jeans as well. Spinning out again hand briefly went to her mouth as she laughed again, before returning to his shoulder. “I don’t know about that, but you certainly seem to know your way on the dancefloor—I think you’ve done this once or twice. You’re making me look better than I am. Where did you learn to dance like this?” she smiled in return. Truly, of the two, he quite clearly was a dancer of a higher caliber than herself—she knew the moves, but he knew the art. And one, two, three, and one, two, three… the song slowly faded out and she found herself lingering for a moment too long in close proximity, before stepping back, flustered. “Thank you… that was… I—“ Articulate, wasn’t she? “That was fun. You are… something else.” Pause. Lily placed a hand on her chest, laughing—couldn’t help herself. Hot in here, wasn’t it? “…I don’t suppose, would you like to… dance again? Or… talk, or something?” Or both. Sensible Lily feeling just a little insensible. “Because, honestly, I wasn’t quite ready for the song to end.” Way to be obvious.