Masterpiece

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

Summary: It's true: Every girl wants to be the Lily who finds her James.

Posted: 9/30/07

As James turned around, done snapping at the passing third year, Lily felt the overwhelming desire to rip the Head Boy badge from his chest, thrust it into his hand and say, "Go give that back to the real Head Boy, Potter!"

"Yeah?!" he demanded, turning toward her, his voice still harsh from his tell-off.

She raised her eyebrows slightly. She stared at his unkempt hair; at his darken eyes, with deep lines of tired underneath them, at his disheveled robe. "You're Head Boy?" she asked skeptically.

"Unless the badge came in the wrong envelop, then I should say I am the Head Boy," his voice was harsh and snippy.

"Don't you snap at me, James Potter!" she said just as sharply. He raised his eyebrow at the challenge. "Don't think I'm going to put up with your smart-arse and the rude comments you make at me, because I won't!" He walked past her and sat down at the table behind her, feigning disinterest while actually catching every word. "And as Head Boy, you should not be threatening and cursing at third years. You're supposed to set an example and be a nice person. Since you are incapable of being a decent person I daresay you won't be Head Boy much longer."

If he had been stung by this comment he didn't show it. Instead he snipped out, "Kicking me off of this would just do me a favor. I've got a Quidditch cup to win this year."

Her eyes lowered in a dangerous way as she turned to look at him. "Do you know how important our jobs are, Potter?"

He didn't even bother answering her and this infuriated her even more. They sat in silence for a minute before Lily decided to delegate the tasks of the meeting. Potter was, expectedly, uncooperative. Every task she asked him to do, he shot down, with reasons that were nothing more than mere disinterest and laziness.

"Potter, they need to learn the rules and you've got to make sure they take it down on their notes--"

At this point he pulled his wand out and tapped the parchment holding the rules. He then copied it two dozen times and looked at her smugly. She turned from him to address the entering Prefects. And when it was Potter's turn to go over the rules, he merely gave the stack of parchment to someone, told them to pass it around the room and stated, "If you break these rules, I'll break your legs!" before sitting down.

Once Lily called the meeting she turned around on James, a fire of hatred in her eyes. She held her eyes shut tightly for a minute and exhaled deeply.

"What now Evans? I'm getting quite sick of your bullshit--"

"I am done!" she said, pulling the parchment up into scrolls and turning toward the door before James got the chance to pass. "I am done with you, Potter! I don't understand how you've got friends: you're a complete asshole!"

"Calm the fuck down," James said, stepping forward and slamming the door closed, inches away from her face.

"Let me go," she said quietly; her voice was icy cold.

"Just shut the fuck up, Evans, you can't talk to me--"

"Yes, you're James Potter," she said mockingly. "I understand who you are just fine, Potter." She stepped closer to him and though she was five inches shorter than him, she leveled with him and stared straight into his face. "I don't give a damn about that! That doesn't even making a difference. Honestly, Potter, you need to grow--"

"I need to grow up?" His voice was the coldest yet. "Don't even start, Evans. You have no idea what it's like in the wizarding in the world, what's happening to us all. You're just a muggleborn, completely unaware!"

Lily stared at him. "Of course I know what's going on."

"But it doesn't affect you!"

"I'm a witch, too, Potter. Just because I'm not pureblooded doesn't mean I am not affected by what's happening."

"Yes, it does. What do you matter by wizarding standards?"

She glared up at him, pressed her shoulder into his, catching him off guard and pushing him out of the way. Slamming the compartment door open she glared back at him, "When did you become prejudice enough to call me a mudblood, Potter?"

He looked like he had been slapped in the face; every cold remark and daring stare he held vanished within an instant. He opened his mouth but it fell close within a second. "I...I didn't! I never--"

"You as good as did," she muttered, starting to close the door. Before it closed completely, she stared straight into his face and said, "I'm going to owl Dumbledore, just so you know. I hope he'll give me a new partner. Someone who's not a complete ego-trip, someone who gives a damn about someone besides himself. Someone who's worth something, cause that's certainly not you, Potter."