A/N - Rewritten chapter


"Oh look everyone! It's Saint Evans, the only one all ready to start studying for the end of the year exams when term only started a week ago. Everyone give her a round of applause!"

Giggles and amused snorts filled the over – populated Gryffindor Common Room, the giggling mostly emitted from 'The Fan Club', as a love redhead had named it.

Lily mentally groaned, and cursed the hated owner of the voice with the very fiber of her being.

'Drat him. He can't leave me alone in peace, even when I haven't even opened my mouth. Maybe if I ignore him, he'll go away. Fat chance that.'

Lily shut out the nuisance, and burrowed her face further into the book, using its thick covers to hide her displeased face. The last thing she needed was that overgrown bat trying to butt into her business. Care Of Magical Creatures had always been a point of interest for Lily, and she wasn't about to let some nitwit ruin her fun. Soon enough, she was engrossed in the fascinating world of Nifflers.

She peered closely at the fine, smooth flowing minuscule script of the thick, leather bound book, taking care not to bend it; Madam Terry would have her head.

It was times like this that she missed the Muggle World. A magnifying glass would have been welcome; the squinting was earning her a headache. As if she needed it at the moment; she had yet to start her essay.

Nifflers are commonly found in mines, where their insatiable curiousity and obsession with gold can be fulfilled. While a Niffler looks relatively harmless, in fact, often labeled as an adorable creature, with its black, fluffy fur and inquisitive snout, and is quite friendly, despite its ever growing curiosity and its habit of latching itself onto anything that shines, when seriously threatened, it is capable of retracting claws from its –

Lily found the book slipping from her loose clasp, and, taken aback and surprised, against her better judgement, looked up straight into the smirking face of James Potter.

Now, if Lily had belonged to 'The Fan Club', she would have immediately swooned. To be in the close proximity of THE James Potter was a dream many had only fantasized about. But since we have pretty much established the fact that Lily is quite not a normal fan girl, she glared at James Potter. If looks could kill, he would have been an addition to all the smudges on the Gryffindor carpet.

But it wasn't the fact that James Potter wasn't attractive.

Merlin no! Any girl would have been blind not to notice the good looks Potter seemed to practically radiate with. It was just the fact that he had a personality to rival a warthog's. But to the other girls (and a few closeted boys), his Adonis-like appearance was enough to make up for that 'slight' defect.

Messy black hair with highlights of dark brown, the lightly bronze skin tone, due to endless hours of Quidditch, seemed to give him an unnatural glow, one that emphasized on his gorgeously tanned body. His high, aristocratic cheekbones brushed with the faint colour of a dusky rose, giving him the appearance of one who had just been caught red-handed doing something illegal, and yet, had no remorse for it. It was the dream of most of the girls in school to run their hands through his unruly, but no doubt silky, hair, or, to kiss his pouty, pink lips. He had a body to die for. It seemed that the endless hours and toiling away at the Quidditch Field had some use.

But what took most girls' breath away were his dreamy, passion-filled, hazel eyes.

They sparkled with mischief and mystery, and it was said by many a sighing girl, that, if you stared too long or too deep into them, you would most likely drown in them, and even if you did want to be saved, which the girls assured you was very unlikely, you would be lost in them forever. And to top it off, he was just a Fourth Year, which left all the girls in glee, wondering what he would look once he had actually HIT puberty; a stage when one was supposed to mature and look even better than before.

'No wonder,' Lily thought, 'that people often listened to Potter more than they listen to me. Who would want to talk to someone who looked like a scarecrow?'

But Lily gave herself too little credit.

It was because of the fact that she did not care much about what people thought about her looks, preferring to dive into her books, as she realistically knew, that, looks were not going to help pay the bills. Well, unless you were James Potter, but that wasn't the point.

But just because she preferred to go natural, instead of slave away everyday in front of the mirror, didn't mean that she resembled something straight out of a horror movie.

With a petite figure, many overlooked Lily when they first saw her, not because she wasn't anything outstanding, but because she didn't put in any effort to seem anything but a wallflower. Her hair, when left open, was a lovely silk mass of fiery red tickling the small of her back, but seen by the other students of Hogwarts as a prim and proper bun on the top of Evan's head. With pale skin, sprinkled with freckles on her upturned nose, and small, pointy ears, Lily Evans seemed gifted with almost Elven like features.

Too bad those wonderful, rare features seemed to be always scowling at James Potter and his gang.

"James Potter, I swear on Merlin's grave, that if you do not let go of that book, you will live to regret it!"

James lifted an eyebrow and twirled the book into the air, and let it fall back into his arms, repeating the motion several times.

"Think you're something big, Evans? I know spells that you can't even dream of laying your hands on!"

Lily smirked, an uncanny resemblance to Malfoy.

"Do any of the spells include castration?"

James flinched and nearly dropped the book, and his expression bordered on fear for a moment before rearranging itself back into an indifferent smirk.

Lily nearly took a step back but stopped herself in time. She did not want to appear afraid of her arch rival, but that facial pose never bode well for her near future.

"I'm tired of your goody-goody attitude Evans. You think you're so above everyone else, don't you? "Oh, DO try to be more mature." "I think…" "I would NEVER do such a thing". God Evans, live a little, will you? Not everyone is as bloody uptight as you are. It's like you're the boss of everyone around here! ""

"Ironical, isn't it? That you of all people are giving me this lecture?"

At that, James visibly snapped.

"SHUT UP EVANS!! YOU THINK YOU'RE SO GOD-LIKE? YOU'RE AN UGLY, VILE EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN BEING! NO WONDER YOU'VE NEVER HAD A DATE IN YOUR LIFE! WHO WOULD WANT A BOSSY, OVER-POWERING GIRLFRIEND?!"

James spat in disgust and flung the book towards Lily's feet, ripping half the book in the process. The Common Room sat stunned into silence, before breaking into muted snickers. Everyone agreed that Evans was getting what she had long deserved.

"You treat us no better than a Slytherin who tries to manipulate everyone else in our eyes. The only reason why that House didn't accept you was probably because you were too bossy, even for them!"

Another ripple of laughter. A mass agreement from the rest of the House. James smirked in triumph at Lily, who had had her head bent from the moment he had started yelling at her.

With visibly trembling hands, she bent down and picked up the book, shakily rearranging the pages and picking it up, hugged the book tightly to her shuddering body.

When she lifted her face, the whole room gasped. James involuntarily took a step back.

Evans' usually stony face was trembling and tear-stained, her red – rimmed eyes still leaking tears. But what had caught them was the fact that her face held the expression of utter despair, a heartbroken stricken look that one has when news has arrived of the death of a close family member.

Lily swallowed with difficulty and turned her back to the crowd.

"That's funny, Potter," she whispered, "because in my eyes, you all treat me no better than a Slytherin treat a muggleborn."

And with that, she ran up the stairs into her dormitory.