Disclaimer: I own nothing except to plot and my OC's. JKR takes the prize for being the genius to create HP.

A/N: This isn't my first L/J fic, but it is my first AU fic. So ignore all regular timelines, this is set in present day times, when they're two years out of Hogwarts, but were born in 1988. Got it? Good. Enjoy!

And don't forget to review. I order it!

Chapter 1:

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

It was a cold, rainy winter night in London. The man who entered McKinnon's Bar in Diagon Alley was firmly wrapped in his cloak. But he wasn't here for a social visit. It was business. James A. Potter, normally not far from the presence of his fellow Marauders, was here alone.

He sat down at a table in a shadowed corner. There were people, fellow wizards and witches, out dancing in the center of the room, next to the stage. James stared, brooding, at the room, not looking up until someone blocked his line of vision.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

'Who was this guy?' I wondered. 'He comes into McKinnon's, alone no less. He's fair prey for any of the Kittens here.'

The Kittens were employees who "worked the crowd." They were also known for their voracious sexual appetites.

I moved in front of the stranger. He broke off staring and looked up at me.

"Hi, I'm Lily. Is there any…" I trailed off.

He ran his eyes up and down my body, mentally undressing me.

I smiled. This outfit was provocative, but modest at the same time. I wore a skirt that reached down to mid calf, but it began to get wider around the knees. Plus it had a slit up the side to mid thigh. My shirt was up to the column of my neck, but only had half a back. Both were a deep green, which matched my eyes and provided a contrast to my deep red, nearly auburn curls, which fell to below my hips.

"You were saying?" he asked, now finished with his perusal of me.

"I wanted to know if there was anything I could get for you."

"A butterbeer would be fine."

"I'll be right back with it." I smiled and winked at him before I turned away.

By the time I returned, he was brooding again.

"Here you go," I said, setting down his butterbeer. "And since you look like a man with a lot on his mind, stranger, here's a shot of Ogden's Firewhiskey. On the house."

I turned to leave, but then he said, "Do you always act like this?"

Puzzled, I stopped, faced him and asked, "Like what?"

"Like you care. You're a Kitten, aren't you?"

"I may be a Kitten, but I'm not like the others. I'm in charge of my life, and for your information, I choose who I bed very seriously, and I don't conform to their standards of sexual activity."

"So you don't bed more than seven a week."

My eyes flashed. "I don't bed more than one a week, if any at all! Unlike them, I'm not a slut!"

"Would you bed me?"

"That depends. So far you've been rude and cranky, Mister. I don't bed cranky men. They're no fun."

"Just because I've got a lot on my mind doesn't mean I'm cranky!"

"Whatever." I tossed some curls over my shoulder. "If you want anything, I'm at the bar. Just press th-"

"I've been here before, Lily. I know."

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

The waitress was more than annoying, in my opinion. She acts like she's the queen of the world.

I sipped my butterbeer slowly, ignoring the firewhiskey. I needed my wits about me tonight. Thinking about what was supposed to take place in the next few minutes, I became oblivious to the world.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

I was furious as I stormed away. 'How day he accuse me of being a slut!'

One of my best friends, (A/N: You'll meet the other later) Trisha Whyte, called me over to the table where she was taking her break.

" 'Sup, Maeve? You look ready to burst a b.v."

"One of the customers accused me of being one of them," I explained as I took a seat.

"Ouch."

"And then he asked if I would bed him."

"Say what? What did you say?"

"I said it depended, because he was acting rude and cranky, and that cranky men were bad in bed."

"You didn't, Maeve!" Trisha was having a hard time trying to control her mirth.

"No, I just thought it," I replied, deadpan. "Anyways, I've got to get back to the bar. See ya."

Once I reached the bar, I was assaulted by one of the other Kittens, named Courtnee.

"Oh, Lily! You won't believe who's here!"

"Who, the Minister of Magic, himself?" I asked sarcastically.

"No," she replied, perfectly serious. "Though I did see him a few days ago. James Potter!"

"Who?"

"Only the cutest Gryffindor in our year. He was a Marauder."

"Oh. Big deal."

"Big deal! Lily, that was the one you were talking to!"

"In the corner?"

"Yes!"

'That was James Potter? I don't believe it,' I thought.

Just then, a light flashed on the table plan. I groaned. It was the table James was sitting at.

I made my way over to his table.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

"I've figured out what I want." He leaned back in the chair, a smug look on his face.

"What do you want?"

"You, in my bed, tonight."

"Hmm. Let me think about it…no."

"And why not?" From the look on his face, he was getting angry. Most likely from not getting his way.

"I told you before. I don't bed cranky men. They're no fun."

"Fine. But you'll rue the day you turned me down." He plunked down money for the drink, and a tip that had a note attached to it.

I pocketed the tip, and gave the money for the butterbeer to Courtnee. Then I unfolded the note.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

I scanned the contents, and made an expression of disgust.

'Oh, no he didn't. He did not just do that.'

"Did not just do what, Maeve?" asked Trisha.

"I said that out loud?"

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

"Read this." I handed her the note.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

I was hard pressed to control my laughter at the note Maeve just handed me. Didn't this guy know that she never takes up with guys that annoy her?

"Gee, Maeve, I think you've got a winner there," I said as I handed the note to her.

₪₪₪₪₪₪₪

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, me too."