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My Reflection by Astrid Elisabeth

Format: Novel
Chapters: 55
Word Count: 115,470
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Drama, Romance, Angst
Characters: Dumbledore, Lupin, Sirius, Lily, James, Voldemort
Pairings: James/Lily

First Published: 10/03/2004
Last Chapter: 07/02/2005
Last Updated: 01/01/2012

Summary:
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Lily Evans felt her leotard hug her curves. Her hands were placed in third position and her feet in fourth. She was standing there, prepared to turn and perform a hopefully triple pirouette in front of her audience. The smile of James Potter was on her mind. After all, it was because of him she was standing on this stage. She hated it, but that was the truth. This is a different James/Lily story with quite a few twists. Hope you like it! Banner by Iced_Cherriez.



Chapter 3: Lost in Thought

Chapter Three, Lost in Thought

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You can dance anywhere,
even if only in your heart.
~Source unknown



The huge library was almost empty when I entered the double doors and seated myself at a table near the History section. I only noticed a couple of Ravenclaws and a bunch of Slytherins in the other end of the room, so I was close to guaranteed privacy to finish my work. The tall bookshelves towering around the room made me feel secure somehow.
I pulled up some parchment and a textbook before rumpling through my things for ink and quill. I traced beautiful letters on the yellowing paper, my mind being at a totally different place.

I sat there, humming on the classical piece my solo was put in. By now I knew every change of dynamics in the music. I concentrated on my essay on the use and definitions on Inferi while hearing the music play in my head. I wished to give it glory with my movements. A part of me wanted to leave the work behind and just dance there in the library, not bothering to think about the steps or the turns. That would have made people stare. That would have been the drop for them to think ‘I knew she was insane.’

But I resisted it and kept in contact with real life. With the tip of the quill resting on the paper.




There she was… There was no mistaking it was her. Her red hair collected into a big flower at the back of her head. Her pale skin making her face light up the room. Her graceful body almost dancing across the floor, even though there was no music filling the atmosphere.
From where I sat I could almost see the freckles decorating her face. Her green eyes were piercing when you looked into them.

She sat down and started writing only a couple of tables away from me. I wanted so much to join her, to whisper sweet words into her ear, words sweeter than the music filling her so often.

I knew she had always been hard to get. I wasn’t even in the same house as her. But I never got it to sink in … how a wonderful girl like her never had anyone special in her life to satisfy her and tell her how wonderful she was. As long as that jerk Potter didn’t fetch her, I was glad. He had been drooling all over her as long as I had liked her. He never let her alone. He was always there to destroy and kill her mentally in some way. Why she never smacked him in the face, was beyond me. She didn’t even seem to like being in his presence.

I sat there looking at the back of her head, wondering what her hair was like when she let it down. I didn’t see her hair fall loose often. Maybe during weekends, but from Monday to Friday her hair was always up. Maybe it was a part of her routine. That was what Lily Evans was known as. The routine-girl. And she was a very pretty routine-girl …




Suddenly I felt someone slip down next to me. I jumped a little, but calmed down when I saw Remus’s kind face beam at me.

“Sorry about last night,” he apologised.

“Don’t be silly! That wasn’t your fault … it was Potter again,” I said.

“Of course, but I could have stopped it.”

“I don’t want you to go mad at one of your best friends just because he likes taunting me! I survived. It’s not that big of a deal.”

I returned to my work, but felt his eyes on me. I bet he wanted to help me, like he usually offered, but I always refused. Especially because it was Defence Against The Dark Arts which were in work. Remus was even better than me on that subject.

I wanted to at least try to be independent. Even if a little help felt really tempting at the moment.

“Erm … Lily?” he said quietly.

“Yes?” I mumbled, still buried in homework and the music inside my head.

“Do you hate James?”

I turned around completely. Was Remus going to start this as well? It was enough having Black and Potter bringing up that topic several times a week.

“What do you mean? Did he tell you to ask me this?”

I started droodling in the corner of my parchment roll, not really wanting to meet his eyes.

“No, actually, he didn’t.”

‘Now, that was a surprise. He came up with that question all of his own.’

I often yelled at him about how stupid and self-centred Potter was, but we never got into chatting about what I thought of him when he didn’t ask me out or generally poisoned the moments I reluctantly spent with him.

“So.. Do you?” Remus asked again, stronger and more relaxed than the first time he posed the question. He actually gave me an interesting smile.

I sighed, not stopping to trace out a girl with my quill.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully, finally looking up with a slight frown between my eyebrows.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Remus mirrored my frown.

“Well, look at it from my side,” I began. “I don’t really know Potter. All I know is that he irritates the tutu off me when he acts like he does. Of course I despise him when he is like that, but I guess I don’t hate him. And besides, I only have those silly moments to judge on.”

“I see,” Remus smiled. “Deep and thorough answering. Good job.”

“If Black had been here he would have been the question-mark himself. Sometimes it amazes me how clever he is in class and how slow he is outside the classroom.”

We both laughed at that.


After an hour I got up and went for dinner in the Great Hall. I had no more business in the library. As I walked down the corridor I met Potter the other day I felt a cold chill run down my spine.

I had never understood that boy. He was one of the most confusing things I knew. I always knew what mood he was in for instance, it glowed from him even at a long distance. If he lost one of his precious Quidditch matches, he could be pissed the rest of the week. But if he was in a good mood, it resulted in a doubled prank-list and lots of jokes and hexes running down the halls when Filch wasn’t around.

But every time he asked me out, he had the same face-expression. One of deep annoyance, and a hurt trace that I never managed to read either ‘genuine’ or ‘fake’ from. And then there was me, and all the variations I turned him down with. If I had a good day, I would turn him down politely, but that was a rare occasion. The usual “Fly off on your precious broom to Egypt and eat rattle-snakes,” was a reply I was quite fond of.

I didn’t like the way he found it amusing to ask me out so often. It seemed like it was his way of a joke, a part of his routine consisting of a dash of School, loads of Quidditch, even more pranking, make girls swoon around him and last but not least, hit on Lily Evans. I found it strange.

But then, Potter played different roles around everyone. Around the other three best friends of his, also known as the Marauders, he was energetic and arrogant and a big blown up … thing.

Around girls he was a player. I didn’t know of any other person but Black who’d had more girls on his record then Potter. He flirted like mad every time a girl above the average-rank on the scale of beauty would pass.

In the classroom he was a hardworking student. He answered all the questions, was polite and talented. You could almost mistake him for being a nice guy. Of course he allowed himself to get close to crossing the line sometimes during lessons, but he never got out of hand. He knew where to draw the line.

But … I never knew what was going on inside him. He was kind of a mystery to me. I was always left wondering what was in the depth of him. And I burst to find out, at the same time I couldn’t care less. He was just annoying and frustrating. But a part of me always wondered …


I slipped down at the bench next to Hillary Liben, one of my best friends, finding my diet book from my school bag and flipped it open in a rush of stress.

“Could you pass me some salad, a hundred grams of chicken and some water?” I said, reading in the book at the same time.

Hillary rolled her eyes and put the things I asked for down at my plate.

“This is supposed to be your dinner? You’re going to be hungry when you leave this table, Lily. If that’s all you eat, you’re going to starve yourself.”

I put the book down and looked at my friend. She had no control of my eating habits. Of course I wouldn’t leave stuffed, but I wouldn’t be hungry.

“The trick is to eat little and often. Also try to stay away from sugar in unhealthy amounts. It’s not harder than that. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get an eating disorder. I’m not thick.”

Hillary just stared at me for a couple of seconds, then smiled at me. I knew what was running through her mind. It would be something along the lines of ‘Lily.. Why are you so hooked up in spending so much time in that studio? Why can’t you just forget about it and live some more?’

Well, my dear Hillary, I use dancing to escape everything else. Forget everything else. When I dance, I am free. Even when I fall and give up am I free. I have some mistakes, yes ... but I know how to do some things right.

When we left the Great Hall she linked her arm in mine and we walked up to Gryffindor Tower together. I knew she was always concerned for me, afraid I’d fall apart. But she was still there for me.

“You know what you need, Lily?” she said later that night, sitting in her night-gown together with me in her four-poster.

I smiled curiously at her while leading my hairbrush through the long soft hair of mine. I had taken it out of the usual hairgrip, letting it fall only in the evening before I went to bed.

“What’s that?”

“You need to get your mind off ballet.”

I rolled over and threw my brush down on the floor, letting my hair cover my face. Of course she had to come up with something like this, I was miserable enough already.

“Lily ... all you think about is ballet. All you care about is ballet, school, and some other few people allowed to enter your life. I know you say you feel free when dancing, but-”

I turned over again and looked at her, my eyes glowing.

“There is no but! I feel free when dancing. It’s there I find my energy! Just because you quit dancing because you couldn’t cope with it, doesn’t mean I’m going to do the same!”

I understood I had said too much. Hillary’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t break the eye-contact. Her wounds from realising she was falling off in the dancing-classes were still fresh.

Her excuse had been that she didn’t have time for dancing, but I had seen her. So had everybody else. I knew she lost hope and didn’t have the strength to carry on. I remembered how sad she was when she returned to out dormitory after telling Lindsay she was not participating in the next show.

“I know,” she said quietly. “I really respect you for still fighting, Lily. You are a fighter. But isn’t this going too far? Isn’t your dancing lessons overshadowing everything else?”

“I have to keep pushing myself … I have to make it that night the show is on, it’s my first big solo.”

Hillary gave me a hug and removed my hair from my face.

“But after that? Are you going to slow down or push yourself even further when the next show is coming?”

I didn’t have words. I hadn’t thought about that. But Hillary was right. There would always be more shows. At least another one or two before I graduated. What would I do about those?

“Lily ... Are you going to push yourself to the limit this last year at Hogwarts, or are you going to enjoy it and try to loosen the strings attached to yourself?”

I was lost in thought. What should I do?


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