Of Madness and Insanity and…Stuff
"Ohcrapohcrapohcrapohcrap…" one Lily Evans muttered to herself. "Aaarrruuggghhh! McGonagall's gonna kill me!"
How do I always get into these situations? If I'm honest with myself (which, you know, I'm not) I'd admit, at least to myself, I'm getting into these situations ever since James Bloody Pot- no. I'm not even going to say his name, or rather think it. Well, ever since he started acting like a normal person I've been acting like this. Being late for class, forgetting about Head meetings, not catching up on my sleep in Binns's class (not even I can stay awake in that class. Which is big coming from the girl who reads Hogwarts: A History more than once a year) , doing my homework a couple hours before it's due, instead of a month before, like normal people, and waking up late because I'm having a marvy dream about- ahem… homework. Yes, that's it. What? Why are you looking at me like that?
"Oof!"
And I just fell.
I mean, what could I expect? I'm late for Transfiguration, (my worst class and Potter's best. Oh the irony) with a teacher who supposedly adores me, but wouldn't hesitate to dismember me in front of the class for being late, and all of my clothes are dirty. (Yeah. He also has me behind on my laundry (I do my laundry myself because house elves scare me. What's up with their ears anyway?), so I'm forced to re-wear clothes (ew) which are too tight because undoubtedly Black did something to them. At least he didn't turn them a different color like last time.) And now I have this huge, big, disgusting, multi-colored, grotesque bruise- okay I'm going to stop now.
Now I'm running. And I'm going to fall again in…five…four…three…two…one…
Yup.
Oh how I love my life. You know, even though my life sucks, I'm glad I'm not bitter about it.
Maybe I should just stay here. I'm still tired and I'm already…15 minutes late for class. Plus if I went right now, McGonagall would kill me, and even though I wouldn't mind dying right now, I'd rather write a nice little note first. You know saying good-bye to all the people I love and hate and the people I pretend to hate but actually love but I'm too scared to say anything…
I even babble in my brain. How pathetic is that?
Ugh.
My head hurts.
And you know who's gonna show up in like a second?
Potter.
Aaaand I'm a freaking physic. Or psychotic. Whichever.
"Evans? Are you alive?" He asks surprisingly concerned.
"No," I reply acidly.
Honestly, I don't know why I'm so mean to him.
"Oh that's too bad. I wonder who's gonna be the new Head Girl..."
"Are you particularly stupid today? Because most people who would see this scowl on my face would run away. Screaming."
"I'm not most people now am I?
"Don't I know it," I muttered, making sure he couldn't hear it. "I'm not in the mood Potter. Just leave me to die." I said in a slightly louder voice.
"Oh, but I can't do that. Then I wouldn't be able to see your beautiful face insert meltingness here…unless you have an open-casket funeral… Insert face-bashing here"
"Shove it."
"No, thank you."
"Well…whatever."
My wit it truly outstanding.
"Up, up." He said cheerfully, extending his hand to help me up.
"Why are you so bloody perky?" I grumbled accepting his hand, forgetting for a moment that I sort-of-don't-really despise him.
"Oh, nothing. I really like that top." He said. Somehow I could just hear the smirk in his voice.
I looked suspiciously at him and then glanced at my top-and immediately started pounding on him. Well, as much as a girl my weight (98lbs) and height (I'm a midget, okay? You want to make something of it?) can pound on a seventeen year-old male quidditch player. Apparently, I'd been in too much of a hurry getting dressed this morning. I have a skirt on right? Okay, good. I think Jame-Potter, would have had an aneurism or something. Or I would. Then we would have something in COMMON- oh god. Where's the straightjacket, huh?
"You freaking perv! What is wrong with you? We were having a semi-civil conversation and you-"
"Oh, I just love how you immediately assume that I'm looking down your top, and that I don't actually like-"
"I'm wearing a uniform Potter!" I yelled/roared/yelped at the insufferably (sexy) prat. And a dirty top at that. Honestly.
"Yes, well I guess there is that." IT said moving closer. Okay…you're in my bubble. Not that I mind, but I think I'd be hard to explain why I'm hyperventilating suddenly.
"Hey! I'm still mad at you! Five feet at all times!" I said pushing him into a wall. On accident of course. Hmm…when did that get there?
"Lily, come on-" He was begging! Sort of. But still! The James Potter was begging! Sort of!
"Ap, ap, ap!" I warned.
"Fine, fine. Happy?"
"Immensely,"
We were walking. Five feet apart. Or strolling. Yes, I like that better.
Lily and James Potter were strolling along with their five children. Lily Potter touched her stomach lightly, with an expression that implied that the apocalypse could come and she wouldn't even look up. She stared lovingly into her husband's eyes-
"Evans? Lily? Lily Evans? Hey, what's your middle name anyway?" He asked. He has ADD I swear.
"Wha? Ugh! I was having a very nice fantasy thank you very much! Geez! Can't a person daydream in peace?"
"Uh, Lily we're at the door." He said trying to make me not hit him. Smart boy. Man. Guy. Guymanboy.
"You know what? I don't wanna. I'm tired and grumpy- and why am I telling you this?" I said turning around towards the Lake. Or maybe the Astronomy Tower. Black better not be up there. I'd prefer not going to Azkaban. Those Dementors sound like quite unpleasant fellows…
"Because I'm oh-so adorable. Ask my fan club." He said running to catch up with me. I may be short, but boy can I power-walk. I look like a bloody penguin when I do but one must make sacrifices.
I grumble.
"Did you just grumble?"
"It's a possibility."
Silence
More silence.
An abundance of silence
I sigh
"Did you just sigh?"
"It's a possibility."
Quiet
More quiet.
An abundance of quietness
I sniff.
"Did you just sniff?"
"It's a possibility."
No sound.
More no sound.
An abundance of no sound.
I grumble again.
"Did you just grumble again?"