Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling kidnapped me and forced me to sign this disclaimer; we were in negotiations for two years, and that is why I have been absent from the fan fiction world for so long.

Author's Note: ...Well, this is awkward. For those who know my pen name, you're probably asking yourself: Where the heck have you been for two years? Unfortunately, I don't have any interesting excuses, really. I'm graduating from college this spring, and I have to do a bunch of crap in order to get my teaching credential, and I just haven't been feeling very creative lately because all of my creativity has been going into my teaching. But, alas, I am back, procrastinating my school work in favor of this new story. This idea came into my head this week and wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it. Or, began to write it.

Chadna, Lily's friend from 73 Days of Summer (an old story of mine) is in this story, but don't get confused. These stories are not related. In any way. Which I hope will be clear after reading this first chapter. Anyways, I'm having fun writing this story, so I hope you guys have fun reading it!

Enjoy! And thank you for being so patient with me.

Chapter 1: The Infection

(An except from the introduction of the highly witty and popular book A Hogwarts Girl's Survival Guide to Magical Crushes, Infatuations, and Love Potions)

The Disease: Amare

Danger Level: High (depending on the degree of infection)

Causes: An impossibly handsome idiot who charms his way into the victim's heart with sweet words, kind actions, and a delicious smile.

History of the Disease: The matters of the heart are a weak thing, and the heart's tendency to fall for such a man is not new to this century, but can indeed be traced back to the beginning of time, winding it's way from the Garden of Eden (which brought about the downfall of all human kind, mind you, according to Muggle Christian theology), Romeo Montague (who succumbed to the disease in a rather fatal way, taking his so called "beloved" with him), and Argus Filch (although the origins of the Amare have yet to be evidentially proven in this case, but his sullen personality seems to point to a lost love of some sort).

Contagion Level: How exactly this disease spreads is still unknown. One thing is clear, however; it seems to lie dormant in all human beings, until it is activated. Activation occurs when the disease is triggered by a physical attraction from aforementioned male contact. There are seven initial stages—or signs—of the disease known to come on extremely quickly after infection begins. (For full list of the seven signs, see page 5.)

OOO

Sitting at the very edge of the bench, in the last remaining seat possible as if she wished nothing more than to bolt from the room at any given moment, a young girl sat sobbing into her hands. A league of her friends sat around her, and even though they patted her back and muttered comforting words to her in between her hysterical hiccoughs, there seemed to be a look of alarm in each of their eyes, as if they too wanted to make a quick getaway. This look of apprehension was caused by none other than the change in weather; it hadn't snowed, hailed, or sleeted in Scotland for nearly two weeks now, and it seemed inevitable that winter had finally ended. Which meant only one thing:

Spring fever was settling into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"I've never seen anything so pathetic," muttered a seventh year Gryffindor girl as she looked over at the hysterical fourteen year old as if she were the most indecent person she'd ever set her eyes on. "You're fourteen," she continued as if she were talking to the distraught girl herself, "move on with your life."

The gossiping girl swept her long dark hair over her shoulder as she turned to appraise her friend who sat beside her with her head bowed over her homework that was hidden underneath her mass of red hair. The girl nudged the redhead with her elbow, and her friend glanced briefly at the crying girl, before continuing her previous activity of writing in her journal.

"Why are you so interested, Chadna? This is about the third guy she's dated in the past month," Lily Evans exclaimed, waving her quill in the air absently.

Chadna shrugged. "Yeah, well, this time it was Robbie Colton. A seventh year. A Ravenclaw, as a matter of fact. Frankly, I thought he would have been smarter than that."

Lily grinned at her friend slyly as she pretended to write in her notebook. "Chadna Gupta: shows extreme interest in a male known to have sexual relations with underage witches—"

"Shut up, you tit-face," Chadna announced, grabbing Lily's quill from out of her hands and tossing it underneath the table. "I'm far too independent to catch the Amare."

"That was my best quill," Lily replied indignantly as she invisibly toed her way underneath the dining table in the Great Hall, attempting to roll over her quill with her foot. She sighed with a heavy exasperation. "Go get it, Chad."

Chadna pulled a face. "Ugh. Crawl through bits of mash, smashed peas, and who-knows-what-else down there? No, thank you."

"Afraid for dear Robbie to see you with crumbs in your hair?" teased Lily, giving up her lost search for her quill.

"He wants to work in the Department of Mysteries, Lily," she responded as if this settled the matter, "It's not even the mysterious part he's interested in; he wants to do some nonsense like 'manage the records' or some boring arse-work like that."

Lily nodded half-mockingly. "Seem to know a lot about him," she noted, closing her notebook and focusing on her dinner. She smirked to herself as Chadna groaned in apparent frustration of Lily's Amare jokes.

It was a game that the two girls had liked to play since third year: Who was going to be the one who fell in love first? Both girls had ran into each other on the Hogwarts Express way back in their first year (although Chadna liked to claim that she couldn't recall ever seeing Lily on the train because she had been obscured by Severus Snape's overall "douche-grease"). But, after a rather quick bonding moment shared when the two of them had run away from some fellow first year Hufflepuff boys who had only wanted to hold their hands to see if love was a contagious disease, Lily and Chadna's friendship had been solidified. Boys were, simply put, a nuisance. If Chadna wanted to become the head of the Daily Prophet by the time she was twenty-five, she couldn't possibly allow a serious relationship to slow her down.

And Lily—well, at a boarding school for magic, one could never be sure if an infatuation was due to hormones, real attraction, or a love potion.

In the case of Sirius Black, it was probably a love potion, in which case it was simply safer to just stay out of the whole realm of Amare all together.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?" asked Lily.

When Chadna didn't answer immediately, Lily turned her gaze to observe her, knowing fully well what her best friend was speaking about. It was, after all, one of the most tedious of their conversations that had been occurring since September of this school year. "Don't say it, Chad."

Chadna speared a roasted potato with her fork and twirled it around innocently. "Say what?"

"You know what."

"Guilty conscience, eh?"

In fact, Lily was suffering from a guilty conscience. Not because the Amare had taken full seize of her immune system. No. It wasn't the disease. At least, she was pretty sure she hadn't been infected, but then you never really know, do you? One moment you're fine, happy, enjoying life—the next, you're a sniveling mess like Marcia Benton. Because that's what the disease did to girls like Marcia Benton. Like Lily Evans. Like every girl in the world. And Lily wasn't keen on allowing herself to fall into the Amare crutches three months away from graduation. So far, she'd made it through seventh year without any symptoms, which was a rarity in deed, since odds showed the a girl usually became infected, at the minimum, twice a year. But, Lily was safe.

Yet that was probably how Marcia Benton had felt as well.

Lily Evans was guilty simply because she wasn't sure what she should be guilty about. Which was all rather confusing, to be honest.

"Have one of your meetings with James tonight?"

It was only because Lily knew Chadna so well that she could detect the oral quotation marks that her friend had put around the word 'meetings.' In fact, if Lily did catch the Amare, it would probably be because of her friend's constant nagging about James Potter and her "super secret, sit by the fire, stare into each other's eyes and wish for the other to simply end the misery by passing along the disease by sharing of saliva" meetings she had with him. Lily simply referred to the meetings as "Head Boy and Girl shit."

But that was a rumor about the Amare—once the idea is put into your head, it can literally destroy you, crush your resolve, and have you hooking up with a boy that perhaps you only spoke to once but who happens to have an extremely attractive body, fooling around in some broom cupboard up on the fourth floor.

Not that Lily would know that from experience.

"You will be the death of me," Lily said to Chadna. "But, no, I do not, and I want nothing more than to curl up in my bed and not have to hear you mention one more word about James freaking P—"

"Hey, Lily!"

The voice rang out amongst all others in the hall, lifting up and beyond the pointless chatter, the sobs of the infected, and the laughter of the safe. It was like that voice had just been magically magnified to cease all conversation, but the world was still talking. Why was the world still talking?

Lily scooted closer to Chadna as James Potter stuffed himself into the nonexistent space that hadn't been beside her to begin with.

"As pushy as always," Lily commented as a form of greeting as he swung his bag off of his shoulders and plopped it down underneath his feet. She could feel it propped up against her leg, and she suddenly became hyperaware that one movement of her foot would send his belongings tumbling.

She had a sudden urge to kick it to the side and an urge to not even breath for fear of disturbing his school bag.

"I'm nothing if not consistent," he grinned at her, pulling his plate towards him.

James' black hair was messy—granted, it was normally always messy—but on this particular night, it seemed messier than normal, bits and pieces sticking up in all directions. His robes were disheveled, his tie loose around his neck, and he had undone the top two buttons of his collared shirt. Overall, a somewhat normal appearance for a seventeen-year-old boy who had just finished a day of classes, Quidditch practices, and Head duties.

Normal appearance, maybe, but not normal behavior for James Potter who was usually never late to a meal, and most definitely was never late to a meal without his three best friends by his side.

"Where's your gang of goonies?" Chadna asked, leaning around Lily to address James.

James's bag slipped down Lily's leg a centimeter as he turned his head to look at Chadna. "Evening, Chadna. Lovely to see you, too," James responded, smirking at the dark-skinned girl.

It was somewhat suspicious that James was without his friends, and Lily was just about to open her mouth to tell him so—probably in some rather witty way that would hint at the boys' illegal activities and immaturity—when James turned completely, so that he was straddling the bench and facing Lily. Lily shut her mouth.

His bag completely fell, and Lily heard his belongings clatter as they scattered among the other forgotten items that the floor had swallowed.

"So, Lily," he began, his hazel eyes twinkling behind his glasses, "I was just remembering the time I had a crush on you."

It was like time had frozen. And like time had sped up. Actually, Lily wasn't quite sure where she even fit into the time-space continuum. The world should have been scrutinizing her at this very moment, but it was like every person around her was stuck in his or her own world, save her and James Potter.

And then she was anxious; anxious that he had brought up the Amare. Embarrassed because Chadna was sitting right there beside her and would surely take the Mickey out of her later, but, for the life of her, Lily couldn't be sure if Chadna was even in the vicinity and able to hear this discussion. And why the hell would James Potter even say something like that to her anyways?

She was not going to get infected.

Was not.

Lily allowed a grin to flicker onto her face as she allowed time to regain meaning again. "Crush, Potter?" she asked him in a tone that clearly stated her sarcasm. Because, honestly, who hadn't known that James Potter had had a crush on Lily Evans? The Amare had run rabid in him the entire year during O.W.L.s, and for a brief period of time last year.

They had been nothing more than friends this year, damn it.

James chuckled easily, as if this pronouncement of his was completely normal and was not some flirty comment meant to prolong embarrassment. "Yes, Evans, crush—you know, when a boy likes an attractive girl…"

Had he just called her attractive? No, surely not.

"I do have quite an extensive vocabulary, thanks, James," Lily responded.

He was grinning widely now. "Well, your general confusion just then suggested otherwise."

"What are you on about, Potter?"

In a state of complete ease, James placed his hands behind him on the bench and leaned backwards, observing her with a mocking interest that seemed to set her cheeks on fire. Figuratively, of course, because blushing only really occurred after a person had been infected.

"No worries, Lily," James said then, "I'm safe. The crush has been extinct."

Lily felt her foot connect with one of his discarded textbooks as she kicked out underneath the table. Something exploded in her gut, a large, dark something that seemed to claw at her insides. Angry. She was angry at the tosser for being such an insolent prick, and why did he even think she had to be told of his immunity to the disease anyways? Who did he think he was? Some national spokeswizard for the Amare spring fever outbreak?

"Should I alert the Prophet?" she questioned sarcastically.

"I've always wanted to make the headlines," he responded before promptly turning around in his seat and facing his food once again as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened.

Lily, on the other hand, felt like screaming, like getting right up in his handsome face and shouting every profane word her intellectual brain could come up with. Instead, she rationally spun around to share her exasperation with Chadna, but the girl was too busy laughing into the back of her hand.

And that about set Lily off once again.

What did he mean, that he was safe? He blew up toilets. He made girls trip on absolutely nothing on their way out the classroom doors just by looking at them. Safe? Him? She didn't need him to tell her he was safe. Even if the Amare was still raging through his hormones for her, she would still be safe, because Lily Evans would never fall for James Potter. She may not have built up an immunity to the disease, but she for sure had built up thousands of antibodies to her fellow Head Boy.

"Shit," she heard James moan, "who knocked my bag over?"

She took savage pleasure in kicking something that felt like an inkbottle further under the table.

Later that night, after a rather uncomfortable dinner that Lily had finished early by scarfing down her food in under five minutes (which had caused Lily to feel downright disgusting immediately afterwards), Lily paced the girls dormitory as her mind ran in about a million directions.

"Why did he even think he had to tell me that now?" Lily hissed as Chadna sat at the foot of her bed with a magazine laid out in front of her.

Mary Macdonald, another seventh year Gryffindor girl who was already happily engaged with the Amare, spoke around the toothbrush that was hanging from her mouth. "Didn't you hear? He just asked Felicity to Hogsmeade next weekend," although that was not what her words sounded like at all, because her toothpaste was attempting to gag her at that moment, but Lily still caught the gist of it, and her pacing stopped abruptly.

"Felicity Cassidy? The Hufflepuff?" Chadna asked with a wrinkle in her nose that spoke of her distaste for the situation. "You're much better looking, Lily."

Some germy monster purred approvingly in Lily's chest, but the words that came out of her mouth were, "I don't care if she's pretty! Did he just have to tell me that to-I dunno-to get rid of his guilt?" A string of not-so-polite words issued from the redhead's mouth as she flopped backwards onto her bed.

"Guilt?" Mary spat against her toothbrush, bits of paste flying out in confusion. Chadna snorted, and Lily's mind continued to rage.

The idea that James Potter had to rid himself of his crush in order to freely date Fee Cassidy frightened poor Lily to the extreme. For if he felt he had to admit something to Lily, perhaps he was also trying to tell her that she needed to back off. After all, he was now dating some loyal Hufflepuff. And if he thought that she needed to back off, then that meant that he thought she had a thing for him. But why would he think that? If she had ever wished that being a witch came with the super power to read minds, Lily would have been hoping for that ability more than anything at this moment. It was eating her up inside.

Lily flung herself backwards into her pillows, her eyes shut. James Potter didn't like her anymore. He had been cured. Why had he been cured? Why wasn't she good enough for him anymore? It must have been something she said…or done…or—"

She didn't care. Not one teensy little bit. James could be shagging Felicity in her own dormitory for all she cared, and Lily wouldn't even take a second glance.

Well, maybe she would just to simply tell dear Felicity that her blond hair really wasn't all that shiny and that there were probably thirty other girls at Hogwarts who could easily rival her lavender eyes.

And James Potter would just sit there on her cold floor stark naked.

With a rather painful smack to the stomach, something that had been flung across the room with uncanny accuracy that only spoke of Chadna landed on top of Lily. It was Chadna's magazine.

Annoyed, she threw a glance at her friend. "That hurt, you twit."

"Look at page two."

Lily wrenched open the thin magazine to a page that had been dog-eared. It didn't take her long to figure out why Chadna had so nicely thrown this monstrosity at Lily. In bright red nail polish—the same nail polish that Chadna had just been busy painting her toes with—there was one word circled from some article about Wandless's new album.

Love.

With a fearful little gasp, Lily quickly shut the magazine and threw it on the ground as if the pages themselves were germ-ridden. When she got the nerve to look over at her friend's bed, Chadna was smirking. She blew a kiss and drew a misshapen heart in the air with her fingers.

"Amare," she tattled in a sing-song voice.

Lily threw her face into her pillow, somehow hoping that it would stop her beating heart. Completely smother her. Set fire to whatever it was inside of her that was causing her to break out in a nervous sweat.

Amare, Amare, Amare.

Love, Love, Love.

She wanted to crush James Potter. Or maybe-

"It's called a crush, Tits," Chadna reminded her.

And suddenly, Lily felt like crying and throwing something all at once.

Mood swings. A typical sign of the Amare.

Merlin, she had become a victim. Somehow, somewhere, sometime along the way of this year and this friendship with James Potter, she had become infected. Because this is how it happened, after all—unexpectedly, out-of-the-blue, just when the diseased boy had affirmed his safety, a false sense of security, a glitch in the immune system that allowed the dormant cupid out.

And now she was a victim to Potteritis.

A/N 2: In which love is a disease (or, at least in Chadna's and Lily's minds)...

And, that whole conversation that James had with Lily-Yep, that definitely happened to me, right down to the whole "Hey, I was just remembering the time I had a crush on you." So, yes, boys really can be that abrasive, random, and downright inconsiderate. And yet, us girls still love them. Amazing, isn't it?

I promise to update soon (probably this weekend? But you are all probably pretty sick and tired of my promises by now, so we'll just let actions speak louder than words this time, shall we?)

Please review! Let me know what you think!

-HeyLookTheSnitch