Disclaimer: I'm a poor college student. I own a French horn, and it has nothing to do with this story, so I'm going to have to say I own none of this. cries
A/N: This story is dedicated with luuuuurve and affection to my mad Editor, stuck in High School though she may be, for being so fabulous by trying to give me sage advice.
Same to You with Brass Knobs On!
By Katharine Ayn Sintonia
Chapter One: That Blasted Spot
"James, Evans is glaring at you at again," Sirius Black hissed in the middle of History of Magic, noticing the intense glower the redhead was giving his best mate.
James jerked up and leaned over backward to see Lily Evans quickly look away. He flashed her a winning smile—despite the fact that her glare was now ferociously trained out the window—and whispered back, "It's because she's finally succumbing to my charms." He ran a hand through his already messy hair and stretched around his chair with a cocky smirk.
A snort of disbelief from behind him showed that she had indeed heard him. James grinned confidently back at Sirius before settling back into a more comfortable position to continue his nap.
Lily, however, returned to glaring at the back of Potter's neck. That little mark—it annoyed her endlessly. She tilted her head slightly to one side, trying to examine it more closely. Was it a mole or a spot? Maybe he'd forgotten to shower…
Unfortunately, that conjured unwanted images of James Potter in said shower, and she yelped in disgust, stabbing a hole through her parchment.
Bugger. The whole of the class was now staring at her, with the exception of Professor Binns, who was still rambling on obliviously about the Goblin War of 1627 in his dreary monotone. She smiled nervously and shrugged. "I saw a spider!" she whispered quickly to Remus, who was looking at her quizzically.
He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. While on their last prefect round, she'd seen a gargantuan house spider and had gleefully watched it crawl about the hallway, giggling all the while about how vile the little buggers were and placing bets with Remus as to whether it'd disrupt Sirius and his girlfriend of the week or Alice and Frank.
She shrugged her shoulders. "Don't ask or I'll hex your bits off," she whispered, glaring threateningly at him.
Remus rolled his eyes and turned back to his note-taking. Feeling the maturity of her sixteen years, Lily stuck her tongue out at him the minute his head was turned.
James's head nodded as he slipped back into his peaceful sleep, making his indescribably messy hair twitch.
There it is again! Her eyes narrowed menacingly. That little mark blared out at her against Potter's pale, smooth neck, irritating her more than she could possibly describe. It was so out of place that it inherently bothered her, like the way Potter's seemed to stick up in the back but nowhere else.
She was so absorbed in her examination of Potter's neck that she jumped halfway out of her desk when a folded bit of parchment landed in front of her. Reading the outside—Psychotic Redhead!—Lily turned around and glared at Alice before unfolding the note.
Her best friend had responded to her outburst in the middle of class with two words: Liar. Explain.
Sod off! Lily wrote quickly. I couldn't help it; I experienced an exceedingly gruesome mental image.
She tossed the note back to Alice and resumed glaring at James's neck. Maybe it isn't a spot after all…she thought, fixing her gaze on the dark area. Perhaps…oh, hell yes! She stifled a giggle. The small blot looked a bit like an ink stain.
Leaning back in her chair, Lily grinned triumphantly. A week earlier she'd attacked Potter with what was now her favourite quill and a bottle of ink after he'd hexed all of her textbooks to read "I love you, Lily. Go to Hogsmeade with me?" That little blot on the back of his neck made her swell with pride. Smarmy bastard still hasn't gotten it all off, she gloated to herself.
The memory of Potter dripping with her hated bottle of pastel pink ink was a memory she intended to cherish for a very long time.
Pink! Damn! Sodding spot isn't from my fabulous ink-scapade. She pouted a little, wishing that she could have claimed that the spot was the result of Potter's stupidity and her genius. Before she could thoroughly enjoy that wish, another note landed on her desk.
Lils—What exactly were these "exceedingly gruesome mental images"? It can't be as bad as the time that Black changed Snape's robes into lacy lingerie. Or perhaps it is—you've been gazing dreamily at the back of James Potter's head for the last five minutes! Or are you just enjoying the view? --Alice
Lily gasped in outright horror and scribbled her reply furiously, stabbing holes through the parchment almost every word. I will have you know, Alice, that I was reminiscing about how prattish Potter looked while covered in pastel ink. I thought he might have a bit still on the back of his neck, but it's some sort of spot. I hate that git, though. Everything about him is so…offensive. I can't believe he asked me out by charming my sodding texts! He deserves to have pastel ink poured on him daily!
Alice's reply came far quicker this time. Everything? I don't know, Lily, he may be an egotistical sod, but he's incredibly easy on the eyes.
Lily turned around and mimed vomiting to Alice, making the other girl giggle. "But Lily!" she whispered. "He is. The only boys in school who're finer are Black and our illustrious Head Boy."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Come off it," she whispered back. "Amos Diggory is a swotty little nancy boy, and Sirius Black is a man whore."
"What about me?" Sirius asked, not even bothering to whisper.
"Get stuffed, Black, I'm trying to take notes!" Lily snarled.
Black merely shrugged and said much quieter, "Don't think I didn't see you staring at my best mate, Evans."
She raised an eyebrow as though daring him to continue.
He ignored her look. "I realise he's hideously disfigured, but sometimes we have to overlook these things for the purpose of friendship." He sighed mock-tragically. "My best mate, the leper."
Lily grinned wickedly. "The leper, eh? Then perhaps you could explain what that spot is on the back of his neck," she whispered, pointing.
Sirius peered closely at James's neck. "That is a ridiculous looking spot, isn't it? Looks a bit misshapen, eh? D'you reckon it's a freckle or a spot?"
Alice, by this point, was intrigued. "He has a spot on his neck? I never would have guessed Potter got spots on his back and neck."
Sirius nodded sagely. "That, my fair maidens, is because you don't share a dormitory with him." He pointed at the spot again. "He's covered in 'em from head to toe!"
Lily rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it. Unless he actually is a leper—which I doubt; damnit—he would not be covered in misshapen spots."
Sirius considered this before glaring at Evans. "Shove off. You're ruining my moment of fun at Prongs's expense." He reached out stealthily and jabbed the spot on James's neck.
"What the bloody—" James half leapt out of his chair before turning around to try to throttle Sirius.
He smiled innocently, but James wasn't fooled. "What the sodding hell were you doing poking the back of my neck?"
Sirius held up a finger. "Correction: I was poking the nasty, misshapen spot on the back of your neck."
By this point, most of the class was looking on intently, any pretence of listening to the still droning Professor Binns long abandoned. "It's not a spot!" James insisted. "It's just a mole!"
Lily smiled viciously. "Let's hope it's cancerous."
James looked hurt but asked, "Why the sudden interest?"
Sirius shrugged. "Evans and I were just speculating on whether it's just your neck that has misshapen spots—sorry, moles—or if your entire body is covered."
James looked aghast for a moment before winking at Lily. "Baby, I'd be more than happy to show you I'm not."
Her eyes bugged out of her head as she tried to think of some appropriately scathing remark, but the bell rang, saving her from her mortification. The gruesome mental images that followed that remark were far too much to bear, and she tore out of the room, flushed a violent red.