It Must Have Been Something I Ate.

Disclamer: Is this really nessesary? (Not mine, JKR's)

A/N: If you collapse or if you're alficted by any other ailments, please don't blame me. Enjoy.

"Entombio Discharge." James stated proudly.

What?

"What?" I asked him, staring over the top of my Care of Magical Creatures text.

"Entombio Discharge." He repeated, swinging his legs on to my lap as he sat down. "That's what's wrong with Karis."

I pushed his feet away.

"And how would you know this?"

"Pomfrey said." James moved his feet back on to my lap.

"She wasn't allowing visitors. And why would she tell you about Karis, and not me? She wouldn't even let me near her. Said it would 'distract the Quidditch players'. Rubbish." I pushed his feet down again, with a little more force than intended, and they landed on the floor with a loud thump, causing James to wince.

"I'm sure you would distract them quite easily." He seemed to see the beginnings of annoyance on my face as he said quickly, "I was only let in 'cause I'm the Captain and I had to make sure Tanis and Tarun hadn't been killed."

Right.

"Right." I suppose that makes sense. I'm thankful that James feet seem to be staying quite firmly on the ground. "So. Entombio Discharge, hmm? And what, pray tell, is that?"

"That's what I said." James nodded seriously before scooting over and putting his arm around me.

I shifted away, took his arm off my shoulders, and was considerably colder for it, as we were in a corner far away from the fire. Damn.

"James."

"Yes."

"What is it?" He looked surprised.

"Oh, I don't know. She told me that if 'you are done ensuring Misters Fell and Waggoner are going to be fit to attempt to kill themselves next time you have a match you can go.'" James imitated Madame Pomfrey's stern voice and twirled his hand with a dismissing air. "It was all very civil." His arm found my shoulder again. And I'm quite sure he's now fiddling with my hair.

Making sure I'm moving slowly, with the hope that James might understand what it is I want, I untangle his hand from my hair and slip his arm back to his side of the couch. I pat his hand. Condescendingly. I stop.

"Well. Thank you, that's helped me a lot."

"Has it?" James appears slightly surprised.

"Did you not want it to?" Eyebrow raised.

"No, no, 'course I wanted it to. It just didn't seem very helpful." James looks vague.

"…" Eyebrow #1 joined by eyebrow #2. "Then why did you tell me?"

"It seemed helpful."

If I had three eyebrows, they would be raised past my hairline. As it is, I've only got two, though they've reached the distant regions of the Very Upper Forehead. VUF for short.

"I'm not understanding the way your mind works, Potter."

"Potter?"

"James."

James has put his feet back on my lap and stretched out on the rather vast expanse of couch. All of it that's not occupied by my textbooks and parchment that is. Of course, I can't say the same about where I'm sitting as his feet – extremely large feet – aren't easy to miss when they're sitting right under your chin. I briefly consider pushing them off again, but it really is getting cold and his feet are warm as well as big. And they don't stink at all. Not like I would expect. The snitches on his socks are fun to watch too.

"Potter?"

"Evans."

"Potter."

"James."

"James, then."

"Sirius!"

"Go away, Padfoot."

"James?"

"That's right."

"No, James."

"Yeah…James. That's what I said."

"Potter, why the bloody hell did you tell me about Karis if it seemed helpful yet… didn't seem helpful?" Well it is annoying.

"I though maybe you would know what this Entombio Discharge is. Since you're the smartest witch in the year and all…"

"Oh." I feel mean now. Jeez. "Well. Thanks. For the… lovely lap warmers."

"James wiggles his toes and grins. "Think my feet are 'lovely' do you?"

"Don't twist my words."

"Aye, aye."

"You sound like a pirate from a muggle movie. A bad one."

"Ye wound me prideful heart! I won't never be the same again! Oh, what's an ol' Sea Dog t' do?" James clutches had hands to his heart. "Ooooooh!" With that he slumps over. And promptly falls off the couch. James Potter, ever the drama queen. Now I'm cold again. I, of course, start shivering within seconds. I did tell you how warm his feet were.

"I've g-got to do my homework. Essay for Hist-t-tory of Magic."

"You're cold."

Brilliant observation.

"Brilliant observation." An eye roll. "I really need to do this soon though."

"Why?" James is lying on the floor, arse against the couch and feet next to me. Oh, how tempted I am to use his feet as a blanket. So tempted. The big snitch zooms around, leaving a red trail of sparks behind it. And around, and around, and arou-"

"They don't really leave sparkly things behind, of course." James voice interrupts my thoughts.

What?

"What?"

"The snitches." He's watching me look at his socks. "They don't really leave sparks behind. That'd make 'em to easy to see."

"Right, of course." I tear my eyes away. Around, around, around… "Homework. I need to do homework."

"Homework. Noun. The name implies that it's work to be done at home. And I've noticed the teachers think of this as a school. So you should really wait until we go home to do your homework."

"James…"

"Yes?" He's got his eyes closed and his toes are wiggling again.

" It's December 5th. And I don't even know if I'm going home for Christmas break. This is due tomorrow. And 'homework' isn't a noun."

"Not coming home for Christmas break!" James attempts to sit up, rolls over, and succeeds in sitting up. On my toes. Damn it, his arse is just as warm as his feet. What is this guy, a walking furnace? "You can't stay here! Practically everyone's going home for the Holidays! You can't have Christmas by yourself! We'll have to do something..." James leans against my legs. He makes it sound like a federal crime.

"Um…okay?" I can't help it if I'm less than enthusiastic. Last time James said anything close to that I ended up sporting neon green antlers, singing broadway and tap dancing on the Gryffindor table at dinner. Needless to say, I wasn't exactly pleased.

"Hmm..." I don't particularly like the sound of that. You may not realise it, being inexperienced in the ways of Potter, but he's scheming. Scheming about me. Oh no.

"James?" He must have heard the panic in my voice because he looked up right away. Backwards. Resulting in his head being on my lap. And I can't shove it off. Because I'm too cold. Damn him and his warmness. "You're not…going to…um…do-"

"Don't worry Lily." I'm not all together reassured. He isn't moving his head. He's closed his eyes! He is not going to have a nap on me! Oh, no, he's moving. False alarm.

"So."

"So."

"Entombio Discharge."

"Yes."

"We should find out what it is."

"We?"

"Well, no, me."

"Oh." James sounds disappointed.

"We'll, I suppose we could." Only because he's disappointed. And warm.

"Good then, it's settled." James jumps to his feet. "Lets go to the Library!"

"Now?" I reluctantly let myself be dragged to my feet.

"Yes, now! I'm a man of action!"

"You're not much of a man at all, really."

James gets this pitiful expression on his face. I feel mean again. And guilty. What is it with that? This doesn't usually happen. Usually, when James is being annoying, or obnoxious, or hovering around me and doing that putting his arm around me thing, I either tell him to shove off or yell at him, preferably in front of a large audience. Whichever strikes my fancy. It's not my fault. And I'll stand by that. I don't function well at low temperatures.

"Sorry." I smile a small, miniscule smile. So that no one can really tell if they're watching us. "Joking."

"Let us go. Oh, boring books of boredom, here we come! We will fight, you cannot get us! Not trap us in your lair. You will not have your wicked way with us!"

"Wicked way, James?"

"Yeah. 'Course." Suddenly James looks terrified.

"Have you not heard of Thane, the warrior, and his lovely young bride Inaya? Oh, the terrors he bestowed on those who even accidentally looked Her way! Demons, vicious creatures you could never imagine in your wildest dreams!" He's nearly yelling and the few people in the hall are looking at us as though we're completely crazy. Guilt by association, I guess.

"Demons?"

"Demons!" James voice is a strange guttural sound and he throws his arms to the sky. "The suffering, the horrible pain inflicted on them. For looking at her. At her! Do not dare to speak her name in the Library! Inaya. Not where Thane lurks, waiting for the day they may find peace, not wanting to be stuck as ghosts, unable to enjoy their marriage. They were killed on that day. After the vows, just after!"

James is putting on quite the show, jumping and hollering. A first year squeaks and runs away. His voice lowers to a whisper.

"They lurk there, between the shelves. They. They, those who Thane destroyed. Seeking revenge. And They look for unwary souls to drag to the back of the Library. And slowly, silently… they tickle them, and in so doing freeing them selves and leaving to the next world!" James voice has been getting progressively louder again.

"So, beware Thane, beware They, beware the books, who may help They but most of all…" We enter the Library. "Do not speak Her name."

"So… about this Entombio Discharge then." The sudden change surprises me. I shiver. No, I'm not afraid of this rumoured They or Her or Thane or the books, I'm still cold!

"James…"

"Yes?" He grins at me and waggles his eyebrows. "Scared?"

This time I favour him with a smile – a real one, not 100 watt, but not an I-hope-no-one-notices-this-slight-twitch-in-my-lips one either. "I'm cold." So yeah, I'm complaining. What can I say?

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Well." Before I can do anything like telling him I was practicing for a play or, I don't know, trying to be witty, he'd slipped an arm around my shoulders – again – covering me with his cloak.

And I'm ashamed to say that it was quite comfortable. But vaguely uncomfortable, what with being so close to James. You didn't think I liked that did you?

"It's got to be some sort of Illness. Probably on the far left of…that row, right side, at the bottom."

James looks at me in wonder. "How do you know that?"

I shrug.

"Years of experience." I say airily, waving my hand aimlessly and narrowly avoiding hitting James in the face.

"Right."

We go over to where I'd pointed and – what do you know – it's right there. Really right there. Staring us in the face. A book titled Brookem, Lockniss Faye, Entombio Discharge and other Strange Ailments.

James appears at my shoulder. "Perhaps it's They." The whisper in my ear makes me jump. James is grinning devilishly.

"Potter!" I hit him in the shoulder. Lightly. Why, lightly? I've no clue. That happens a lot. Me having no clue, I mean. It isn't often that I decide it's necessary to hit James Potter, and then I hit him lightly. I'm not sure it's ever been done, actually.

At this realisation I jump again, naturally landing on James' toes.

"Ow!" He hops on one foot for a moment before hitting a table and falling over, still clutching afore mentioned foot.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Are you okay?" I'm not helping though, just kind of standing there awkwardly.

James is on the floor groaning.

"Well it can't be that bad." I know. I'm a sympathetic person. A bit sarcastic and stubborn too.

James glares at me and mutters what I think was along the lines of. "A purple potato broiled 'till it's silver and thrown at Peter." I could have been wrong.

When he is again sitting, I jump – again, what is it with me today – thankfully missing all nearby appendages, remembering the book, Entombio Discharge and Karis sitting all alone in the infirmary, throwing around Spanish and Dutch and Irish – Dutch and Irish because of the whole Entombio business and Spanish because it's her native language and she often speaks it extremely fast when she's angry, or impatient, or… well you get the idea, yeah?

"I'll get the book then." I say quickly.

"Brilliant. Great idea." James is obviously still a little sore.

"Jaaaaames…" I hate it when other people do it, but we're all big hypocrites.

"Sorry. Bludger hit my foot at the last Quidditch match." James smile-grimaces.

"Oh! I didn't- can I see?" I drop the book on the table in front of him.

"See? Why would you want to see? No- Lily. Lily. Hey- wait, Lily- ow!" James jerks away.

"Stop moving. It'll only hurt you more." I say crossly. Did I mention my patience doesn't hold out for very long? It doesn't, if you didn't know.

"Tough love approach, hmm, Lily?" James makes a face. I've never seen anyone make a face like that before. I'm momentarily distracted, watching it, until I hear another loud 'ow!' on James part.

"Sorry." I've made it past the sock and now have to contend with a rather large bandage. Propping it up on a chair and sitting down in front of it is the easiest way. The last layer it gets stuck at the top of the foot. "Terribly sorry about this."

"What? What! No, Lily, doooooooooooooooooooow!!" Madame Pinces' return screech is loud even from the other end of the library.

The bandage has a good sized chunk of skin attached to it and James' foot is starting to bleed again. Actually, his eyes are quite teary. "Come, now, it's not that bad." Course, I neglected to point out that if I had such a large chunk of skin ripped out by him, I'd be bawling and screaming most likely attempting to hurt him.

I swish my wand to add disinfectant – James whimpers – move it in a jerky fashion to heal the skin – James grimaces – and, with a final wave, get rid of most of the pain. James hugs me. I squirm out of the embrace and it occurs to me that the blood may have been making his feet so warm. I feel his other foot and his back, and the back of his head – James raises his eyebrows – and come to the conclusion that he is, in fact, a furnace, and not just extremely bloody.

"Trying to feel for other wounds, Lily? Looking for a concussion? From a cut on my foot?"

"No, you idiot."

"Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

James grabs the book and opens it (I sit down on the chair his foot was on and move it to my lap. Oh, warmness. ) turning to the page on Entombio Discharge and reading aloud.

Entombio Discharge, or
Entombionaterium Flascus Rioyt,
is the strange reaction one may
get if slightly burnt cabbage is
eaten when the sun is highest in
the sky. This reaction,
though not particularly dangerous or
harmful for a short period of time,
can cause extreme annoyance
(mild case) and, in some, insanity,
if left to their own devices for too
long. Entombio Discharge, though it
sound as though it might come from
one of those places 'down there' –

James paused to snort. "'One of those places down there'. I mean really, Lily. 'One of those places.'"

- actually refers to the spewing
out of different languages, out
of ones control, that may or may
not have been all ready known at
the time of infliction. Though it
seems mild, and can be cured
easily, it can have lasting
effects for a few days afterward.
To cure, mix 2 tbls of salt,
1 mashed leprechaun toenail and a
silver potato.

I glanced at James. Silver potatoes seem to be getting around

See your local healer for
further instruction. NOTE:
Only to be brewed with a
Scottish leprechauns
toenail, not an Irish one.

James paused. "What say we tease Karis mercilessly after she drinks it?" He suggested.

"I don't know…"

"Come on Li-"

"Okay, it's a deal." I stuck out my hand.

James shook it. It was the very vague beginning of a relationship, though I didn't know it at the time. No, not that, more the very vague beginning of a friendship.

I noticed a corner of parchment sticking out of a pocket in James' cloak.

"Hey… Potter."

"James."

"James. What's this?" I pulled it out and unfolded it. It seemed to be only an old, blank piece of parchment. I glanced at James and his face was white so…

An insane titter escaped. Really, really insane sounding. I turned tail and fled.

"Lily! Lily! No! Lily, come back! Be careful with that!" James jumped up after me, following the sound of quick footsteps and evil sounding sniggers, I'd assume.

I didn't make it far.

James caught up at the end of the hall. I had to work to stop giggling. It didn't work. Usually, I'm not quite so...giggle-y. 'Course it's not exactly a usual kind of day, is it? What with me being pinned between a very furnace-like James Potter and the wall, wearing his cloak, giggling, playing keep-away with an old piece of parchment…? I'm going insane. Must have been something I ate.

A/N: Cover your eyes and slowly, back away from the computer screen. You may be spared yet. After you review of course.