James Potter. I was making out with James Potter. What the bloody hell was wrong with me? I didn't know what the answer was to that question, nor did I intend on finding its answer.

He kissed me urgently, our lips separating only to allow the air's brief flow into our lungs (which heaven knows we needed).

He held me closer, fingers brushing my spine, sending lightning forms of energy all throughout my body. He led me backwards slowly then all at once until my back was up against the castle's wall.

I felt his breathing, quiet and collected, as he pulled away from my mouth and started gently kissing at my neck. I surprised myself, letting out a moan. It felt so good to be touched, to be held, to be kissed.

I thanked my lucky stars that I'd stocked up on prior romantic comedy knowledge to know what to do next because instinctively, for some reason unknown reason, I leaned closer into him before jumping up and curling my legs around his torso. I felt his lips break into a smile on my neck before they made their way back to my mouth.

I woke up to a soar neck and a subsiding headache. It was Monday. I had slept off a hangover Sunday and I had kissed James Potter on Saturday. Monday, which meant class, which meant facing the music, or in this case, Potter's posse.

I groaned and turned over to the other side of my bed, sleeping an extra 15 minutes before the last of my alarms started going bezerk. How I loathed the final wake up call.

I got ready in a grumpy stupeur, somehow managing to put my robes on, shower and do my makeup all within an hour timeframe, a major improvement from my prior 10 minutes waking up and going straight to class with no shits given about my appearance that I'd practiced during my first couple years at Hogwarts. And I'd wondered why no boys had talked to me besides Severus?

I made my way through the common room, smiling at passers-by, I got a few hellos but mostly nods. It was really starting to hit home how few people I had been close with prior to Severus. I shook off the negative thought as I winded down some staircases and prayed the first hallway to the left was the one I needed.

Something seemed to be on my side because it was indeed the Natural Sciences hallway. I was rather cheery, my hangover was gone and I was pretty sure I didn't hate Potter half as much as I thought I had.

Taking my seat at the edge of the second row just as Potter and Co. strode through the doorway, I managed looked up casually and gave a hello and a simple how are you as James walked right on by flat out ignoring me, throwing a sneer in my direction.

I sat there, stupefied. Here I was, trying to be a decent human being in greeting another human being and asking what state they were in only to be snubbed in full daylight. Goodness, its not like I'd professed an account of love to him or anything.

Could he BE anymore arrogant?

In all my inner mental analysis was trying to process that it was impossible for James Potter to be any less than arrogant, I'd missed the fact that Sirius had actually voiced a good morning, I mumbled a response and continued on my analysis, sinking further and further down in my chair.

The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class but Professor Sprout was still nowhere to be found. This resulted in a restless chatter amongst the students, waiting for that 15 minute mark to which if she did not show up, everyone would be free to flee. Suddenly I was thankful that I'd picked this edge seat. A clear escape route, if anything.

Lucius Malfoy's voice became ever so audible from the back where Satan and his crew resided.

"So I heard you hooked up with a Mudblood."

"I don't remember much of Saturday night but I can assure you that is not something I recall." James retorted.

There's no way he didn't remember it.

"Not just any Mudblood but Severus's Mudblood." I could hear the venom spewing from Lucius's voice.

"Your head must be still throbbing from that bludger you took to the head on Friday Malfoy."

Maybe he didn't?

"I'm just saying, Crabbe saw you both leaving the Gryffindor Common Room on his way to the Great Hall."

"Crabbe's mental, we both know that. Give him a conquest for the Great Hall's midnight buffet and whatever other drug he's pumping and he's bound to see Nearly Headless Nick's head come off… Anyways, hooking up is hooking up. Might as well have some fun while we're here is my way of looking at it."

"I'll never understand how you can associate with Mudbloods like her, as much as talk to the ones on your team."

"If you recall, I don't talk to them unless I have to. Regardless, they're still people Malfoy, don't be a complete asshole. The world needs all sorts."

All sorts. All sorts? What the hell did he mean by that? They were all assholes, point blank. The whole pure blooded lot of them.

Just then Professor Sprout bustled into the classroom carrying a mountain of papers almost equivalent to her own height (what a tiny woman).

"Sorry class, I had to sort out some illegal plant activity going on in the greenhouse."

I heard snickers from behind as well as a scoff (undoubtedly Sirius).

"It appears that someone's been trying to grow hallucinogenic fungi as well as an herb that can only be described in the Muggle World as 'Marijuana.'"

The whole class exploded in laughter. The fact that someone had started growing pot on Hogwarts grounds was so out blandly hilarious that even I forgot the stupid boys for a moment.

"Quiet quiet!" Sprout yelled as she tried to reclaim the order in the classroom, "I'll be assigning your groups for the semester so listen up."

I began drifting back into my thoughts as she called out one group after another, I forgot how large my year was and how this class somehow fit to everyone's timetable since everyone seemed to be in the room.

"Group 34: Lily Evans, James Potter and Sirius Black."

A look of disgust graced my face as I turned slowly around in my seat to look into my new teammates faces.

Sirius, gentle soul that he was, saluted me. Potter however didn't look at me at all, in fact he pretended to not even notice me at all as he scribbled away on his paper. I turned around in a huff, contemplating throwing a bludger at his head.

Just then a ball of paper hit me from behind, I looked around only to see James's blank, unreadable look as I unraveled the piece of paper, briefly looking down to see, there written in his perfect handwriting: It wasn't a dream was it?