I opened my eyes and found myself not three inches away from a pair of cheeky hazel eyes framed by glasses.

"MERLIN'S UNDERPANTS!" I shrieked, scrambling away. I hit my head against the low, sloping roof under which the bed I was currently sitting on was situated, and groaned, rubbing my poor scalp. Reaching out, I tried to find one of bobby pins I left lying haphazardly on a table next to my bed.

I was met with empty air. I bolted upright.

This was not my room. This was not my bed. These weren't my freaking clothes.

Wait...what?

I yelped, banging my head against the roof again in my attempt to escape whichever rapist now was currently holding me captive. Strong arms pinned me down from both sides.

"Easy, Evans. Calm yourself."

I twisted around in his chokingly tight grip to demand he return me to my dorm when all the air whooshed out of my lungs.

I began to laugh. The three other boys in the dorm exchanged puzzled looks.

I supposed it must've looked weird – Lily Evans laughing to her death in James Potter's insanely tight grip wearing his extremely baggy clothes.

"Your hair..." I gasped, giggling. "It's fluorescent pink."

"Yes, Evans, I know." He said matter-of-factly and slightly more than a little exasperated. "Could you please turn it back to my ravishing black colour now? Samantha McLaggen was supposed to meet me last night, and thanks to you, she ran off howling because my hair was pink."

Black pretended to swoon at James' 'ravishing black colour' part and turn jealous at the 'Samantha McLaggen' part. Remus shook his head amusedly, while Pettigrew just sighed and went back to hunting through Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"Oh Evans," Black cried dramatically, clutching his heart. "I must thank you for safeguarding my precious Jamsie-kins from the evil clutches of Samantha McLaggen!"

He then proceeded to fall at Potter's feet and kiss his toes. James rattled me, completely ignoring him.

"Jamsie-kins?" I asked him, grinning. He sighed, his patience exhausted. Remus pulled Black off the floor and whopped the back of his head.

"Look, Evans. I don't have time for this. Turn my hair back to its original colour or I will keep you hostage."

"He will, you know." Remus' bored voice came from behind the Daily Prophet. I almost laughed to see he'd put Black on a leash and attached him to the bed. Black kept trying to get away, a look of complete adoration of James on his face.

"Is that normal?" I laughed, clutching my sides, pointing to Black.

"Perfectly." Pettigrew assured me. "In fact, Moony and I even came up with a ship name for them – Prongfoot. What do you think?"

"I think," I snickered, "that you boys are off your rocker."

"I also think," James cut in, ruining this brilliantly wonderful conversation, "that you need to freaking fix my hair."

I shrugged. "I don't remember doing that."

"No?" He asked, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Then let me jog your memory a bit. Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup, we came back to the common room, and you fucking jumped me."

I stepped back in alarm. "I did not jump you." I shot back, more in an attempt to convince myself.

"Believe it, Evans. You had me completely shocked. For a second I considered taking you to the Hospital Wing, but then I decided not to, because I was having too much fun."

"Such a gentleman, isn't he?" Remus interjected. I glared at him. He smiled at me sweetly.

"I even took a picture!" Pettigrew said enthusiastically, rummaging through his desk for his so-called picture. With a loud 'A-ha!' he turned to me, waving a little photo in front of me. I snatched it out of the air.

No. This cannot be happening to me. I cannot have snogged James fucking Potter.

And yet, there was the proof, sitting innocently in my hands. I clenched them, ripping the picture into tiny shreds.

"There." I announced, my hands still feeling clammy. "It never happened."

"I have more!" Pettigrew piped up again. I resisted the urge to choke his chubby little neck.

"And that's not all you did." James continued. I fisted my shirt in my hands.

I almost forgot, this wasn't my shirt. I looked up at him in horror.

"We didn't..." I trailed off, unable to express my thoughts coherently.

"We didn't." James said, as calm as anyone could be with pink hair. I heaved a sigh of relief. "Moony found us before we did. He told us you'd most likely had an extremely low tolerance for alcohol, and gotten drunk easy as anything. Then he made me get off you."

I felt my face beginning to burn. That explained the absence of a headache. "Why am I not in my own clothes, then?"

He gave me an extremely heated look. I looked down.

"Your clothes were all over the common room and I had no desire to go back and hunt them all down. You wear a surprising amount of clothes for a party, Evans."

My face began to redden. Damn this twat.

"Lily, are you sure you don't remember anything?" Remus asked worriedly, through the snores coming from the shaggy black dog cuddled in between his feet.

"Even if I wanted to, Remus, I don't." I smiled tiredly.

"Go back to sleep." James said shortly. I reached up and tugged on his hair.

"What about your hair? How did that happen?"

"Well, around the point Moony burst into the room, you started to scream at him first, and for him to 'leave us alone' and then you froze, turned back to me, studied me under an expression I really couldn't identify. You swore crudely, and then turned my hair pink. You were going to hex me some more, but before you could, Moony Stunned you. You fell asleep after about two hours, so he lifted the hex and put you in his bed to sleep."

I stifled a laugh. "That sounds like something I would do."

"Well..." he gestured humourlessly at his hair. "I still haven't figured out the counter-hex."

I yawned, stretching. "Do you have any idea of what I said? There are numerous spells that I could have used for turning your hair pink."

He frowned. "Something like Metamorphic Capil?"

I laughed. "Oh, that one. Yeah, that one I actually invented myself. You didn't find a counter-hex because there isn't one."

He started to panic. "So I'll be pink-haired for the rest of my life?!"

Remus and Pettigrew slunk out of the room as the bell sounded, presumably to get breakfast. Black in Animagus form ambled after them, turning into a human form and winking at James before disappearing with Remus and Pettigrew.

"No." I said, barely able to contain my laughter. "It will wash out with the regular use of shampoo over twenty to thirty washes." I doubled over, cackling.

"Twenty to Thirty washes?!" He yelped. "That's like ten to fifteen weeks!"

"There is another way, though." I managed to gasp out through my tears.

He whipped his head around. "Is it instantaneous? What is it?"

"Yes, you git. It's instantaneous."

"What?!" He practically shrieked. I almost collapsed in laughter again, he was desperate.

"You have to kiss someone without them laughing." I said simply. "I invented it for Frank and Alice, and then pushed them into a broom cupboard together. Needless to say, they came out looking quite...flustered. And Alice's hair was back to normal. It works better if you're extremely attracted to the person."

"How does that even work?"

"I used demi-permanent muggle hair dye and a simple love potion."

"It's a spell, Evans. Not a potion."

"Same difference." I shrugged. "Now who are you going to snog? I want to take pictures."

"A redhead." He adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "They turn me on."

"Okay..." I said, counting on my fingers. He wouldn't snog a girl in the year below him, and that ruled out Molly Prewett. He wouldn't snog a guy, which eliminated Arthur, and his brothers. He also wouldn't snog someone taken, which left only about three eligible redheads.

"You can snog Louise Midgeon, Annoushka Krum, or Sarah Knightley." I told him, ticking them off on my fingers.

"I'm not snogging Midgeon or Krum!" He retorted quickly. "Midgeon's face is extremely unflattering and Krum is a Slytherin."

"So you'll snog Sarah Knightley."

"She doesn't turn me on." He said simply.

I stared at him, dumbfounded. "So you're just going to stay like that?"

"Nope. I'm going to snog a redhead. A completely oblivious, dense redhead with green eyes. In approximately three seconds."

And crossing the room in three long strides, he cupped my face and kissed me. My brain's ability to function snapped to nil.

It took me around six seconds to realize I hadn't hexed him. Or cursed him. Or jinxed him.

No, I had full on kissed him back.

One of my hands slid from around my waist to tangle in my hair. I gasped as I felt his tongue slide into my mouth. The bastard.

I pulled away, heaving, and he took the opportunity to latch onto my neck, sucking and biting. I groaned. He smirked. Raising his head towards me, I suddenly noticed his hair wasn't pink anymore. It was black.

"Your hair's not black anymore." I huffed, as he stole my breath again.

"Mm." He continued kissing his way up my neck, until he settled on a spot that made me see stars behind my eyelids.

"Don't you think we should stop?" I panted out. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"No." He said, at exactly the same moment Black came barrelling through the door, yelling 'YES' as loud as he could. I jumped away from James. Remus and Pettigrew followed him, shaking their heads.

"We've been sitting out here, listening to you two making out, and quite frankly, it's disgusting." Black began to rant. I was too preoccupied with catching my breath. "You freaking don't know the damage you've done to my heart, Prongs!" He gasped dramatically.

"Padfoot, I admire your skills of pretence, but we all know you're dating Sarah Knightley." James replied, a devilish gleam in his eyes. Black 'hmph'ed and plonked his arse onto a bed.

"You know, James," Pettigrew began, "the politest way to ask a girl out is to ask her. Not jump her."

That was the first thing Peter had said all morning that I didn't want to choke him for. James shrugged. "What do you think, Moony? Sixty-seventh time's the charm, hm?"

He'd asked me out sixty-seven times?

Remus quirked an eyebrow and spread his palms, like go for it, mate!

"Go out with me, Evans?" James flashed his ridiculously bright teeth at me. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, Potter."


It was only after two years on the eve of our wedding day, that James summoned up the courage to tell me that Remus had told him about Metamorphic Capil, and that he'd begged him to do everything within his power to use that spell to his advantage. The bloody twat had planned the whole thing.

I went out the second night after we got married with my wand clutched tightly in my hand, leaving behind an extremely Stunned husband, with a werewolf soon to follow.

The gits.