I'm going to post this pretty quickly, since it's already written (: I'm just editing and adding a few things as I go. This probably isn't what anyone wants to see me post if anyone still wants me to post at all lol, so I do apologize for that. At this point I'm in college and slowly losing all the sanity I have left, so it's not the most conducive to being an effective Fanfiction writer =P anyway, enjoy (:

"I seem to have realized that!" I snapped, glaring fiercely up at my fellow head student. Honestly, how thick did he think I was? "Unregistered, I'm sure, or you'd probably be flaunting this achievement as well. Don't tell me - the werewolf, dog, and rat are actually your fellow marauders?"

His silence was all I needed in confirmation - who else would those animals have been? I groaned, slumping against James' side and letting him carry my weight for a moment as I tried to process this newfound information. This was all I needed - these four morons running around the school as illegal beasts. I bet my wand that Sirius was the dog and Peter the rat based solely on personality and appearance. But that could only mean that… "Remus is a werewolf?" I asked, surprised to find that I was only mildly alarmed.

"Yes," James admitted, running the hand that wasn't wrapped around me in support through his hair. "I know you won't spread it around though, right Lily? That's the only reason I even changed right now, because I know you won't do that to him."

I sighed. "Of course not. Remus is my friend," I replied dismissively. I'd think more about it later, but I would eat my wand if Remus had chosen to be a werewolf, so I couldn't really blame him. His friends, however, had clearly chosen to go through with their transformations. "Honestly Potter, becoming an Animagus? That is so irresponsible! Why are you all running around school grounds with a werewolf? That could be dangerous!"

"Relax Lils, we know what we're doing," James assured me. I scowled, not any more convinced by his confidence than I usually was. "We managed to make sure he didn't get near you, didn't we?" he tried to say.

That was an awful example of competence in keeping Remus under control. "I nearly died!" I yelled, causing James to jump a little at my shrillness. "You call that knowing what you're doing?"

"Remus is my friend. And I wouldn't let him hurt you," James informed me seriously. The moonlight glinted off his glasses, masking his eyes from me in a silver sheen across the lenses. I shivered in the light breeze, my anger cooling with the sudden chill as I remembered something rather pressing.

"I'm not wearing pants!" I shrieked, shying away from James' teenage-boy hands. "Get away from me!" I jumped quickly out of his reach.

Unfortunately, my knee did not approve of jumping. It decided to voice its views on the subject rather forcefully too. Which, to be translated, meant that my knee buckled and I fell down in a surge of blinding pain.

Oh, joy.

"Lily?" James queried worriedly, crouching down beside my now-prone body and reaching out as if to touch my shoulder. "What hurts?"

"My left knee," I gritted out, knowing that I had no choice but to accept any help that James could give. I was in my knickers in the middle of the grounds at 3 AM on a cold night, injured and alone except for him. There wasn't much else I could do, other than hobble up to the castle on one very cold, pantsless leg. "It twisted badly when I fell." I relented somewhat unhappily to giving James a bit more information, poking at the slightly swollen knob. It didn't appreciate that very much, throbbing dully in response.

James winced, leaning down to inspect my knee. A sudden thought popped into my head that I really wished I had spent more time in the sun recently- my legs looked washed out and milk-white in the moonlight. And I really should exercise more often… was it just me or did my thighs look a bit pudgy? Perhaps I should try to curb my sweets-while-studying tendencies.

Oh Merlin, when was the last time I had shaved? I couldn't remember. James really was looking at my leg far too closely to be comfortable. "I don't want you to try to fix it," I said quickly, wanting his eyes averted from my embarrassing legs. I did not like feeling this self-conscious because those familiar hazel eyes were locked on my poor exposed limbs. "I'll die of hypothermia out here if we stay any longer, and I don't want my knee to explode because you don't know exactly what you're trying to fix."

James' eyes finally lifted from my legs, and I relaxed slightly. Then I realized he was grinning at me, his mouth crooked at the left like it always was when he was particularly amused. "You have beautiful legs, Lily. There's nothing to be self-conscious about," he told me innocently.

I felt heat rise to my face, a notable change from the freezing cold I had been dealing with before. "Shut your trap," was my far too late, far too inelegant reply. James' smirk informed me he knew exactly how much embarrassment I was dealing with right now. Prat.

"Just help me back to the castle, Potter," I sighed, reluctantly raising my arms up so he could help me to my feet. James only smiled, carefully lifting me so that I was balanced on my good leg. James retrieved my loafers and pajama shirt from the pile I had left them in, quietly helping me balance while I put my arms into the shirtsleeves and quickly buttoned it up. I wrinkled my nose at my muddy legs, casting a couple quick Scourgifies to clean the muck off before slipping my loafers back on. "Stupid Sirius stole my pajamas," I muttered under my breath, internally cursing the devilish boy. He probably thought it would be hilarious to make me walk back to the castle in my knickers, especially with James beside me.

"How are you planning on walking back to the head dormitory from here when you're all pantsless and crippled?" James asked, raising an eyebrow. "Come to think of it, why were you even out of the dormitory and stripping by the lake in the first place?" James looked confused as it finally occurred to him to wonder what I was doing out here in this state.

"I wasn't in the head dormitory, I was in the Gryffindor common room," I explained. "It's Marlene's birthday, so we were having a sleepover in the common room, which included truth or dare-"

"Ah," James interrupted, a look of understanding dawning on his face. "The old 'skinny dip in the lake' dare. Was it Marly who got you?"

Now it was my turn to be confused. "Uh, yeah," I confirmed. "How did you know?…"

James nodded wisely, as if he was some sort of omnipotent god. "That's one of Marly's favorites when the quidditch team plays truth or dare," he explained, grinning in a way I wasn't sure I liked. "Well now that that's cleared up, I'll take you back to the Gryffindor common room."

I raised an eyebrow at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "You will?" I asked doubtfully. "How so?"

"I'll carry you," James replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You can't be heavier than Sabrina Hullbane, and I had to carry her from the pitch all the way up to the infirmary yesterday."

I bristled at the mention of Sabrina. She had always irritated me vaguely, with her constant chatter and inability to stick to one boyfriend at a time. Yesterday she had been bragging to all of the seventh year girls that James Potter had carried her all the way to the infirmary after she fell from her broom on the pitch during Hufflepuff's practice, and oh girls, he had definitely had a hand on her butt the whole time. And oh girls, wasn't he so strong and handsome and kind, and oh girls, he was so concerned about her! Oh girls, it was adorable! Oh girls!

"Lily?" James asked hesitantly, pulling me from my thoughts.

"Don't compare me to Sabrina Hullbane ever again," I said somewhat snippily, trying to get her irritating voice out of my head. "And you will not be carrying me anywhere."

James' brow furrowed in confusion at my tone. "What's wrong with Sabrina? And why not? You're injured, and I can help." James took a step forward, reaching as if he was going to pluck me right off the ground whether I liked it or not.

Oh no he didn't! I was not a doll to be picked up and carried about. I took a swift step backwards on my good foot, dodging James. "She's been prattling on about how you carried her to the infirmary since Madam Pomfrey released her. Did you know she's been telling everyone you were groping her quite enthusiastically on that trip?" I took a wicked sense of satisfaction from the horrified look on James' face. Poor oblivious boy. He never quite seemed to figure out how manipulative girls like Sabrina were. "I don't want to be your next groping victim, after all," I added innocently, doing my best to look properly scandalized.

"I didn't touch any of her!" James protested vehemently, looking seriously alarmed. He didn't seem to realize I was partially just messing with him; it appeared that James thought I honestly viewed him as a creepy groping sort of bloke. "I swear I didn't, Lily! I don't grope injured girls!"

Although I didn't want to admit it, a small part of me was glad to hear James shoot down Sabrina's rumors so passionately. He sounded positively horrified that his good deed had been twisted like that. Sabrina wouldn't be getting anywhere near enough to James now for anyone to believe that he actually liked her, although I wasn't really sure why I cared about that bit. "I don't know," I continued, not feeling like letting James get off the hook too easily. I really didn't like Sabrina, after all, and those rumors had really been irritating me. Preventing any more of her awful gossip was reason enough to get her away from him. "I'm not even wearing pants. That's kind of vulnerable in my position."

Now James was starting to look desperate for me to believe he wasn't a perv. His panic was only very slightly, minutely endearing, and I refused to contemplate it for very long. "Come on Lily, I'm not like that!" he pleaded. "I only want to help you back to the castle!"

I pretended to consider it. "Fine, I'll admit that I think Sabrina's rumors are false," I conceded. I had to suppress a grin at the relieved look taking over James' face. He got worked up very easily, like an excitable puppy. "But I still don't want you to carry me," I added.

"It'll be the fastest," James argued. He stepped forward again, and this time I couldn't step backward again, unwilling to put weight on my left leg.

"And the most undignified," I added, tilting my chin up defiantly and trying to seem like I was in control.

Nevertheless, James reached one arm around my waist, trying to pull me off the ground to carry me bridal style as if I hadn't said a word. "James Potter, don't even try," I snapped, squirming as relentlessly as possible without hurting my knee in the process. "I don't want to be carried like a damsel in distress."

James sighed in defeat at my squirminess, but kept his arm around my waist as he settled me firmly on the ground once more. I was relieved that he wasn't pushing the issue. I honestly just didn't want to be carried about like a pathetic sack of flour, especially not by James. "Use me as a crutch then?" he suggested hopefully. "I only want to help you, Lily."

I couldn't help but smile a little at his sincerity. As robustly irritating as the boy could be, he did have some positive points to his colorful character. "Fine, but you're going to have lots of fun stooping over so your shoulder is my level," I informed him cheekily, slinging my left arm over his shoulder and gingerly testing the weight on my injured leg. It was painful, but doable to step a bit on it with James' support.

"If it helps you," James replied, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could with my weight now about his neck. Somehow, he still managed to make the move look graceful. "Let's go."

We set off at an awkward pace towards the castle. After twenty meters or so, James ended up basically having to lift me forward on every step I took with my left foot, since my left knee voiced its pain in the form of blinding agony every time I bent it. I resolutely refused to admit that James carrying me would have been a much faster and more comfortable solution. This alternate plan was working out alright and was a far less awkward situation than him carrying me around would have been. I couldn't just let James hold me against his chest with his arms wrapped under my bare legs and around my very thinly clothed torso. I didn't like to admit it, obviously, but James was a rather physically handsome sort of male, and I didn't want my treacherous biological tendencies to focus on that fact. I was rather afraid that if I was scooped up in the warmth of his arms for too long, such a terrible thing like unavoidable physical attraction might just happen. I simply preferred not to feel attracted to gits if I could avoid it, and in this case I could do something to avoid it.

Anyway, it was not a proper situation for head students to be wandering around the grounds at night, one half-naked and the other an unregistered animagus.

"Are you always this breakable?" James asked after a few moments of silence.

I paused for a moment, childhood memories of the broken arms and purple and gray bruises that had been trophies of my many escapades flooding through my mind. "I was a bit of a rambunctious child," I admitted, smiling slightly at the thought of the flowers and stick figures Petunia had doodled on my cast when we were seven and didn't yet know that I was a witch or that she would hate me in a few years. "I got into a lot of scrapes that left me a bit roughed up."

"You were rambunctious?" James repeated incredulously. "But you're such a bookworm all the time, and you don't really show any interest in quidditch or such-"

"Just because I like to read and I don't like quidditch all that much doesn't mean I was a stick-in-the-mud child," I shot back, rolling my eyes. "I read a lot of books, yes, but then I would go play outside and reenact everything... and sometimes fighting pirates up a tree meant losing my balance while swinging my sword and falling out of said tree."

James let out a laugh, grinning at the image I painted of tiny pirate Lily. He listened intently as I described my favorite make-believe games inspired by my books, which was probably why I kept talking. He even traded me a few stories of his own, including a ridiculous story about trying to hijack his father's broom in hopes of playing "big boy quidditch" at age six. It was surprisingly easy to talk to James when he wasn't being a prat, and it made the painful trip back to the castle a little less arduous.

Everything with our James-is-my-bent-over-human-crutch-lifting-my-weight-every-other-step-so-my-knee-doesn't-die shindig was working out well enough when coupled with the story exchanging— until the first staircase.

James and I stopped at the base of the stairs, gazing up the long ascent to the next floor. We could see the next stairway from here, an even longer one that I knew from experience was equipped with a false step possible to get stuck in. That would most likely be unimaginably painful if my injured leg were to get trapped in it.

At the same time, James and I looked at each other. "Carrying time?" he suggested, looking irritatingly hopeful. Something in my chest gave an irritatingly nice-feeling twinge when I looked at that hopeful face, which I did not approve of. He was far too set on the whole carrying thing to be considered healthy.

Maybe he really was planning on touching my butt. I wouldn't be overly surprised, considering his marauding, flirting reputation.

"I'm sure I can think of a solution that doesn't involve carrying," I dismissed both his suggestion and the feeling that had started wiggling down toward my tummy with a little too much effort. "You could levitate me up the stairs. Or, say, conjure me a pair of pants to wear."

"Why don't you conjure your own pants?" James asked impishly, raising an eyebrow. I glared at him, knowing full well that he was aware of my fatal flaw: conjuring clothing. I had no idea why, but I simply couldn't manage it. It baffled the professors how I worked so hard and could perform the most difficult of charms without a hitch, but couldn't even conjure up a mitten or a sock.

I liked to think it was because fashion and I had never really mixed, whether magic or muggle. Petunia was the more fashionable one in my family, and I tended to live off of hand-me-downs from her most of the time. My clothes tended to have problems with me and decided to hold grudges: such as my pajamas running off with Sirius Black in giant dog form. That was one rejection that really stung. Even flannel pants preferred Sirius' company to mine.

I shook myself from my bitter, clothing-related thoughts just in time to register James pulling out his wand. My only thoughts were that he was taking my suggestion to levitate me up the stairs seriously, or maybe he was going to be nice and conjure me a pair of pants to wear.

Instead, he summoned his damn broom.

"Accio Kiteflyer 3000," James announced, flicking his wand.

I scowled at him, pulling my left arm off of his shoulders so I could cross it over my chest with the right one. "Why did you summon your broom instead of doing something useful?" I demanded.

James grinned roguishly as his broom appeared above us, zooming down to fall right into James' hand. He let go, and the broom floated down to mounting height. I tried not to envy the skill he had just because my own control over a broomstick was nowhere near as finessed.

"I just realized that if you're so dead set on not being carried, it would be much easier to just fly up to Gryffindor tower," he explained. James reached for me again, nudging me toward the broom. "Go on now. Hop on," he instructed.

"I can't sit normally on a broom. That involves too much knee work for my body to approve of right now," I complained. I eyed the Kiteflyer warily. I had heard those things could fly extremely fast, and I was not a fan of fast-flying brooms. I barely tolerated the speed of the cruddy brooms that the school provided for students to learn to fly on. Climbing trees after imaginary pirates was one thing, and flying a magical broom was another.

James thought for a moment, then nodded, apparently accepting my argument. "All right then," he agreed. I watched in surprise as he mounted the broom anyway. Was he going to fly off without me and leave me pantsless at the bottom of the stairs all night? I didn't think he was that cruel, regardless of how much we bothered each other all the time. He had helped me this far, after all!

Before I could open my mouth to question his actions, James had reached over and once more snaked an arm around my waist, pulling me towards him. My knee flashed a warning bolt of pain at me, buckling and making me stumble blindly backward to try to move my weight off of it.

Long story short, I ended up landing practically in James' lap.

"What are you doing, Potter?" I demanded, pleased to find that I still had my calm, indignant voice handy instead of sounding as embarrassingly shrill and flustered as the voice in my head did.

"You can ride sidesaddle," James explained, gesturing down at my legs. I looked down, only to realize that he had caught me so that I sat with both legs dangling off to one side, my left knee firmly packaged between my right one and James' leg.

"How is this safe at all?" I demanded, feeling very unbalanced even when we were only about a meter off the floor. I didn't want to think about how it would feel once we started moving. "I'm going to fall off flying this way."

"No you aren't," James disagreed. "I've got you." A pressure tightened around my waist, and I realized that somehow I had acquired a seatbelt without noticing. James had one arm curled firmly around my stomach, keeping my back snug against his chest while his other arm reached around my shoulder to guide the front of the broom. I was practically surrounded by James.

And it wasn't altogether unpleasant either. Damn, this might prove to be more dangerous than the carrying scenario...

hehe (: who knows, maybe I'll get back into writing fanfiction once this whole cognitive science degree thing falls through =P

~TMI~