Chapter One
By Tumblequ
Lily Evans had spent the entire History lesson charming the pull out in Witch Weekly to moan her name.
At first the wizard in the picture (moving, of course) had been embarrassedly annoyed; shooting her glares like there would be no tomorrow. But after enabling him the power of normal speech (and access to the s under-robes advertisement on the opposite page) he'd decided it wasn't such a bad thing and stopped complaining.
She'd even promised him to hang his picture up on the small piece of wall in her dormitories (he'd requested someplace where he could see all the girls), and Lily knew the perfect place.
He'd moaned a lot louder after that.
Throughout the class, James Potter had been sitting in the row in front of her – which was why she'd started fiddling with the poster in the first place. He'd been passing notes with the Black kid… Sirius? Sirius Black?
Whatever.
It didn't matter.
What mattered was that she'd seen that brat Potter eyeing her arse up just the other day.
Today, when she'd walked into the class (running late due to an encounter with Filch), she'd noticed (as her eyes run through the room, choosing who she would deign to sit next to today) the way he blushed ever-so-slightly as her eyes slid over him. The way he'd looked down, trying not to look at her full on, as though she blinded him.
Lily wasn't a fool. She knew the signs. She'd invented the signs.
The boy was smitten… with her. Unfortunately, like most boys, he would no doubt do something completely embarrassing in an attempt to prove his 'undying' love for her. His worthiness as a potential boyfriend.
She entertained the thought for a moment: Lily and James. Together? As a couple? She imaged the way everyone would look at her when she went up to him in the corridors, hugged him, kissed him… Lily? With that freak-show and a half? She smiled, imagining the shock everyone would feel – Lily Evans with… could it be… James Potter?
It would certainly be a controversy.
And Gracious God knew: Lily loved those.
But the smile dripped off her face to be immediately replaced with a pout.
Fun though it would be to mess with the boys mind, she just could not see herself lowering her standard so much! Gosh. James Potter? The idea really was laughable!
But how exactly would he play out this little crush?
She closed her eyes and rubbed them with a free hand, mentally picturing a million and one horrible scenes that the little monster could cause.
He and his little group of losers – why, she was ashamed to be in the same house as them! Them and their stupid nick-names – what kind of losers called themselves after cutlery anyway? And 'Wormtail'! Why would anyone ever want to be called that for fun? It sounded more like a name for some kind of rat, or something slimy at least.
They certainly were strange.
As she thought this, an image of Harvey Conner flew through her mind – the bunch of roses he'd sent her featuring prominently. Oh that had hurt. Not a day after she'd turned the spying little perverted creep down, he'd up and given her a hundred white roses!
Lily gently unclenched her fist. It was hard.
They'd laughed at her for days, but after her response to the… insult, they'd laughed plenty at him too.
She wondered what ever had happened to Harvey Conner.
Strange, but she had no memory of him after that incident: the last time she'd seen him he had been running from the hall, looking like he was about to burst out into tears!
That had been funny!
Lily giggled.
But the question was: would Potter try anything as ludicrous as that?
She considered it.
He just, might, not.
She thought, tapping a quill to her bottom lip.
If she was lucky, he would see the differences between them (like cheese and chalk some?) and move on. Not make some hugely embarrassing scene in front of all of her friends. She'd have to take measures to make sure it never happened again, if he did… well, she liked to think of herself as a naturally non-violent sort of person.
Unless provoked.
And a loser – like James Potter – asking her out?
Oh. Yeah. Right.