AN: All recognisable characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Her fiery brown eyes glared at the black-haired boy sitting under the tree. The way he smirked at the girls, the way he knew he was good looking; that boy had the vanity of peacock.

Oh, it certainly didn't help that the girls were flocking to him. His playboy status had reached epidemic proportions. What's more was that the girls he had been with were loudly trumpeting the fact—some had even made it up just to get attention.

But to him, it didn't matter; as long as they all smiled seductively at him, as long as his popularity was soaring higher than the sky, as long as boys wrapped their arms around their girlfriends possessively as he walked by.

And what irritated her beyond a doubt was that she was jealous. She was jealous of those girls, because she wanted to be with him. She didn't want a one-night stand, which seemed to be his specialty—she wanted an actual relationship with him. And that was what was maddening about it!

She knew she was being so irrationally stupid, but she couldn't help herself. After all, when did love ever make sense?

What made it worse was that he didn't like her. She didn't know if that was purely because of the fact that he just didn't like her, or if the rumours were true and that his best friend liked her, and was simply respecting that fact. If the latter was the case, she could just scream with frustration.

His best friend was a lot like him, but she had always butted heads with him. He, at least, stayed out of her way—again, she was unsure whether that was because he wanted to respect his best friend—but his best friend... Oooh, she could just about strangle him sometimes.

It certainly didn't help when she'd catch him staring at her sometimes. She didn't know if that was because she hung out with Sev, or because—again, unsure—his best friend liked her and was simply wondering what he ever saw in her, or maybe, possibly, because he liked her, but it gave her butterflies in her stomach.

If only he'd stop being greedy with girls and popularity, maybe she'd finally get over him. Get a move on, get a life, start thinking about someone else, like her friends had been telling her to. Maybe, once he stopped being so blastedly single, she'd finally stop thinking about him.

But as she stomped up the hill, her rage—borne from her furious tirade with herself—peaked. Why couldn't they just leave Sev alone? She'd had enough with their pigheadedness. She raved at them, but when she caught the protectiveness in Sirius Black's eyes as Severus called her a Mudblood, Lily Evans cooled down.

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AN:

Another drabble for homework. Gah, I gotta start writing longer.

Dedicated to Alice =]

This can or can not be canon, all up to your imagination. But please don't flame me for Sirius' OOC-ness. It's a possibility, you know.

Review your thoughts and opinions.