Another Deleted Scene

This one is possibly my favorite, but after having written it, I decided to change the structure of the chapter (Chapter 26, "The Wedding"), so, as sad as I was to lose the "Horatio" storyline and a renewed Beatles debate, this had to go. They are having the very same debate that we had on this thread a few days ago, because, if you remember, in Chapter 26, there's the scene where the Marauders and the girls (sans Lily) are arguing over which of the girls is which Beatle; this was meant to be a continuation.

So, this takes place after everyone stops by to pick up Lily, following Petunia's wedding.

Lily’s half full mug came clattering down upon the table, more for emphasis than anything else. 

“Okay, you lot are full of it. James is Lennon, Sirius is McCartney, Remus is Harrison, and Peter’s Ringo! End of story!” 

 “I just think Sirius should be John!” argued Mary, folding her arms. “He’s more...”  

“Handsome and tormented?” suggested Sirius.  

“Pretentious,” retorted Marlene. 

 Everyone laughed, and Remus got to his feet. “I’m getting more drinks—have this resolved by the time I’m back.” The Marauder moved through the thick crowd of the smoky pub—their third that night—to fetch another round of beer. The other seven, meanwhile, sat crammed into a large booth. This particular establishment had been chosen by Sirius and James, who seemed to be some breed of experts and insisted that so long as they were hopping, this ought to be a stop.

“He’s really right,” James observed, regarding Remus’s remark. “I think we might have argued this one to death.”  

“Because Lily can’t let a conversation end until everyone involved has admitted that she is right,” said Mary, smirking.  

“Shut up!” protested Lily, but she was almost laughing herself. 

“I am perfectly willing to admit defeat on the rare occasion that I’m in the wrong!”  

“Which is why you should just admit that Potter is McCartney, and Black is Lennon already,” said Donna, who had sided with Mary for this argument.  

“He is n...” 

“Can we please talk about something else?” moaned Marlene, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. “I am so bored with—Oh-my-God-that-woman-has-purple-hair!” She dissolved into a fit of giggles, and Donna reached around Lily to smack Marlene’s arm. 

 “Not so loud, Price! She’ll hear!” Marlene was a little further along than the others with regards to alcohol consumption. Even still, no one else, apart from Donna, seemed bothered by their friend’s audibility. 

Sirius grinned. “Keep it up, Price. Maybe you’ll be the one to get us thrown out of here.” 

 “The one?” echoed Lily. “Do you often get thrown out of pubs?”  

“Are you joking?” asked Peter. “These two?” He jabbed his thumb at James and Sirius. “That’s what they do to pass the time.” 

Smirking, Lily turned to James for verification, for he was the nearest Marauder to her, sitting just to Marlene’s right. 

 “Well, sure,” said James, shrugging. “It’s good for the heart to get thrown from a place every now and then.” 

“I’ve never been thrown out of anywhere,” Lily observed idly, as Remus returned with a whole tray of drinks. “Except a wedding of course...” she added with a hint of bitterness that went largely—though not universally—unnoticed, for the others all reached for a bottle at that moment and were thus distracted. 

James frowned. He deliberated for a moment, and then said: “Well, that settles it; drink up everyone. We’ve got no choice now.” 

“What are you talking about?” asked Remus warily, as Mary scooted along the bench to make room for him again. 

 James ignored the inquiry, addressing Sirius instead: “What d’you think, Padfoot? ‘Horatio’ maybe?” 

“Merlin, no!” cried Remus at once. “No Horatio. Not that, please!”  

Peter, however, seemed oppositely enthused. “No, do it! It’s one of my favorites!”  

“One of your favorite whats?” Donna demanded, but she, too, went unanswered.  

“Horatio, huh?” mused Sirius, the beginnings of a grin appearing on his handsome face. “We haven’t done that in over a year.” 

“Prongs almost broke his nose last time!” pleaded Remus. 

“Prongs did break his nose last time,” corrected James, touching said nose gingerly at the recollection. “But it was worth it.” 

“What was worth what?” Lily wanted to know. “And who or what is ‘Horatio?’” 

Marlene giggled at the name.  

“Just finish your drinks, and you’ll see,” James advised.  

“Prongs,” Remus implored his friend; “please... it’s so embarrassing...” 

“But, Moony,” said Sirius, “it’s been over a year! We have to inaugurate the summer somehow, don’t we?” The three Marauders looked earnestly to the fourth, who, at last, threw his head back against his seat in resignation. 

“Fine. But we’re paying the tab first.” 

 “Fine,” said Sirius.  

“And you three,” Remus added to the other wizards at the booth, “are covering my portion of it.” 

“Before you do anything,” said Donna. “You had better explain what this ‘Horatio’ business is.” 

Sirius and James only exchanged enigmatic smirks. “Trust us; you’ll laugh.”

This was sort of reincarnated in Chapter 28 though. "Horatio" is a different version of "Twelve Punches." =P

Not that he was comparing the two...

Alternate version of the Chapter 27 scene. This was not included, because I lost most of the chapter, thought I deleted it, rewrote it, and then found this after having posted the chapter.

In most ways, Carlotta was entirely unlike Lily.  

Not that James was comparing the two, because he certainly was not.  

The Potters and the Melonis had, as Carlotta predicted, arranged to have lunch together on Saturday at the big grey house belonging to the latter; Mr. and Mrs. Potter talked about the town and the area with Mr. and Mrs. Meloni, while Carlotta’s sisters and brothers entertained themselves, and Carlotta mostly heeded her classmate. While the adults sipped tea, the two seventeen-year-olds walked the length of the Melonis’ wrap-around porch, and James made his silent observations about Carlotta. 

 They were not entirely different, of course, both being clever, pretty, and talkative, and some of their differences, of course, resided in superficial appearance—Carlotta being somewhat slimmer and shorter than Lily, with dark skin easily turned by the sun. Her hair was dark too, of course, but her eyes were neither as large nor expressive as Lily’s. Objectively, perhaps, Carlotta was the prettier; her features resided in perfect proportion, and she projected a much more... relaxed air. But, apart from physical differences, she had a more direct nature and quipped far less than Lily. 

 Not that James was comparing the two, because he certainly was not. 

Chapter 30 Deleted Scene

The Dormitory Fight from Carlotta's perspective, deleted from the chapter because 100 PAGES!

“I’m sorry, Shelley,” sighed an appeasing Lily. “Mary’s not... I mean... I know you didn’t know she was with Stebbins...”
 Fear gripped at Carlotta again and prompted her to speak, too: “Of course she didn’t know. Shelley wouldn’t—Shelley wouldn’t intentionally try to snog another girl’s boyfriend... would you, Shell?”
 It hadn’t been intended to sound like such a leading question, and yet, Carlotta’s words caused something in Shelley to snap. The blonde turned towards her, spite in her eyes.
 “Not like you,” she said, temper flaring up unexpectedly. “You would do it—you have done it, without blinking an eye.”
 “Shell...” Carlotta began uncertainly, but her friend interrupted.
 “I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” Shelley roared, catching everyone off guard. “HOW COULD YOU? You knew! You’ve always known that I was in love with him, and you just—did you even care?!”
 And there it was—the reproach that Carlotta had dreaded... had thought she’d avoided... here it was after all.
 “You... you never... said anything to him...”
 “That shouldn’t have mattered to you!” Shelley went on. “You were supposed to be my best friend, but you—you didn’t really care about my feelings at all! You knew, and you went ahead anyway!”
 Supposed to be her best friend. “I didn’t mean to hurt you...”
 “Of course you did!” Shelley shrieked. “You don’t care about anyone but yourself! It must have been... it must have been so exciting for you to land James Potter! You must have thought that... that stupid, mousy little Shelley wouldn’t say anything! Like—like in fourth year, when you kissed him... you must have thought I’d stay in line and behave! But I’m not going to! I’m not going to be your stupid little sidekick anymore! I’m done with that! I am done with you!”
 Carlotta attempted to get out the reply she’d prepared... that Shelley had never acted on her crush... she had been contented to sit and long, and Carlotta had only wanted to be happy... But her words sounded desperate and guilty.
 “YOU KNEW!” Shelley raged on. “You knew, and you did it anyway!” She paused to breathe; Carlotta wanted to cry, but did not dare. “But it doesn’t matter...” Shelley continued after a while, and her voice was calm again, “he’s not going to want you for very long.”
 Fear again. “What—what’s that supposed to mean?”
 “Exactly what it sounds like. If you think he’s going to want a girl like you...”
 And, as something had snapped in Shelley, something else snapped in Carlotta. “You think he’s going to want you?” She laughed. Shelley win James Potter away? It was ridiculous. Carlotta didn’t care that her laughter now was cruel... she couldn’t help it. “You think that James Potter is going to pay any attention to you, Shelley? You’ll have to do more than lose a little weight for that to happen...”
 Shelley lunged at Carlotta, but Lily stepped in.
 “Stop it, both of you!” she shouted. “Carlotta, Shelley—you two have to get a grip. He’s just a boy.”
 “He’s not just a boy!” Shelley snapped. “He’s the boy that I’m in love with...”
 “He doesn’t fancy you, Shelley,” retorted Carlotta. “He fancies me."                  
“Not for very long! I listened to every story you ever told me, Carlotta! I know all of the awful things you’ve done, and those aren’t the qualities that a bloke wants in a girlfriend!”
 “Then why are you trying so hard to be me?” Carlotta shrieked.
 “I don’t want to be you! You would have failed potions last year, if you hadn’t given Robbie Castle a hand job to do your homework for you!”
 “At least I’m not a whining, simpering little fool, who thinks that the only reason her pathetic crush never worked out is because she was ugly! Truth is, Shelley—he wouldn’t have fancied you even if you hadn’t resembled a deformed hippogriff!”
 Shelley gasped, and tried once more to reach Carlotta, unsuccessful yet again due to Lily.
 “I’m serious, stop it,” she snapped.
 “Stay out of this, Lily!” barked Shelley.
 “I’m not going to let you kill each other!”
 “This is none of your business! Stop meddling!”
 Lily deliberated for only a second; Shelley’s words clearly stung her. “Fine. Tear each other’s hair out—see if I care.” Lily moved back. Inexplicably, Carlotta did not want her to leave. Even as she stood there, a combination of guilt and fury surging through her, Carlotta knew that she ought to have been embarrassed, but she did not want that strange, uniquely positioned third party to leave...
 “I just couldn’t believe that you would do that to me,” Shelley muttered, with tears in her eyes. “You knew...”
 “I knew that you fancied a boy whom you had scarcely spoken two words to in six years,” Carlotta interrupted, also tearful. “I knew that he liked me, and he didn’t just want to sleep with me—he liked me.” That had to be explained. Shelley—to whom she had never had to explain anything—needed to understand. “So, yes, I wanted to go out with him.”
 “He didn’t know!” Shelley replied loudly.
 “He didn’t know what? That you would get skinny and be willing to shag him? First of all, you’re not even that skinny.” (This was a particular slap-in-the-face, Carlotta could tell). “Second of all, he’s James Potter! It’s not as though he’s never had options before, okay?” (Didn’t she get it?)
 “I see,” retorted Shelley. “So you’re special are you? Please! The only reason anyone would want to be with you is because you’re a guaranteed slag!”
 “And you’re so much better now? You snogged Mary’s boyfriend!”
 “So what? It’s not like Mary MacDonald isn’t going to find another boyfriend!”
 “You are such a pathetic hypocrite!”
 “You’re a whoring slag!”
 “You’re...”
 “SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!” Lily interrupted suddenly, louder than the other two and bringing them to silence. “You’re both wrong! Neither of you have the moral high ground anymore, okay? And y-y-you’re standing here, arguing, like a couple of idiots over something that is so—so—so unfathomably insignificant that I can barely handle knowing that two supposedly intelligent seventeen-year-old girls care at all!”
 “Well,” began Shelley, “she...”
 “Bloody hell, I don’t care!” Lily went on furiously; “You are both wrong! What part of that don’t you understand? Carlotta...” She turned to the brunette. “What the hell were you doing? You’ve known that your best friend was in love with him since first year—you shouldn’t have kissed him, and you shouldn’t have started dating him! You’re not in love! You did it because you wanted to, and because for whatever reason, you are incapable of understanding that you can’t do every single thing you want to do! If you didn’t have to act on every single whim that you have, your best, and—might I add—practically only friend wouldn’t be standing here shouting at you!”
 Carlotta dropped her gaze, more embarrassed. For a second, Shelley looked triumphant.
 “And you!” Lily turned to the blonde. “You’re not much better! For someone who worships and adores the bloke, you don’t seem to have a very high opinion of James! You’re going to, what? Have a long, fulfilling relationship—get married, have babies, and live in his big, fancy house—based on your trying to seduce him away from his girlfriend?! How is that possibly a good idea?! And, oh my Merlin, don’t even get started on Stebbins! I hate to say it, but Carlotta has a point! How can you stand there calling her a whore, when everything from your practically orange lipstick to the fact that you just uttered the sentence, ‘Mary MacDonald will find another boyfriend,’ makes you just as bad!”
 “I...”
 “NO! No, no, NO! I am talking now! The both of you need to get your acts together right now! I am done caring if Carlotta is seeing the bloke that you fancy, Shelley, or if Shelley is trying to sit on your boyfriend’s lap, Carlotta. Whatever. But all of this whore-calling, and shouting, and making this dormitory miserable, and... and... snogging my friend’s boyfriend to prove a point to each other—all of that ends now!” Carlotta attempted to speak, but Lily cut her off again, “And... before either of you say that this is none of my business, I am going to spare you the risk of getting hexed out that window: this is my business, because I’m supposed to have my own room tonight, and yet now, I get to spend the evening agreeing to repetitive statements about what a git Stebbins is! And, also, because the two of you are insults to the very word ‘friendship’ with how you’re behaving! AND, also, because I’m Head Girl, and there’s NO SHOUTING ALLOWED IN THE DORMITORIES!”
 She finished her speech.
 Shelley and Carlotta did not speak.
 At some point—Carlotta had no idea when—Donna had entered the dormitory from the bath, dripping wet from her shower and clothed in a bathrobe. She looked from Lily to Carlotta to Shelley, utterly bewildered.
 No one said a word. It was funny, that now, with her best friend breathing heavily and loathing her with every fiber of her existence, Carlotta should regard Lily. She looked a strange combination of tired and furious and hurt. As a result, when Carlotta broke the silence, she was uncertain as to whom she spoke: “I’m sorry.”
 Shelley interpreted the apology as her own, however. “I hate you,” she replied bitterly.
 And that stung, too.
 Carlotta looked between the other two actors in this little scene: Lily and Shelley. Shelley looked resentful and hurt and wronged. She looked angry and sad and tired, and there were tears in her eyes. But Lily—Lily was in pain, too.

And because you're all such sweethearts, here's a nice little Chapter 31 excerpt.

 “Lily,” began Remus quietly, “do you—do you fancy James?”

Love,
Jules