Disclaimer: I'm a thirteen year old girl that is completely broke. I am not a 47 year old millionaire (or billionaire) that goes by the name J.K. Rowling. I also don't own any characters except for Isabella Lott, and everything recognizable from the HP series

Chapter 3-Mornings and Jealous Guys-Lily Evans

Ugh.

Alice's alarm clock is blaring through the whole dorm.

I could seriously kill her right now.

I hear the other girls groan and mumble and complain about the morning, but they got up anyway. I don't want to. I think I'll lie down here for another two minutes.

Yeah.

That sounds like a good idea.

I just shouldn't close my eyes. Just don't close them.

Just don't close them

Just don't…

I open my eyes for just a second, stretch, and then look at the time.

Shit.

It's 8:13, and my first class, Potions, starts in exactly 17 minutes. And, to add to the pressure, it's Valentine's Day today, and there've been some rumors that Marc Ackermann, the seriously cute Ravenclaw in my year, wanted to ask me out today.

I'm seriously stressed.

I yank my uniform out of my closet, run to the bathroom, brush my teeth while I pee (desperate times call for desperate measures), hastily grab an elastic band that holds my messy bun of fiery red curls in place, race down to the Great Hall, grab two slices of toast. I realize that someone is calling my name exasperatedly, and I turn to see Alice, my best friend, jog up to me. Alice has blond hair to her shoulders, brown eyes, and is average height. We've been friends since the Sorting.

"Hey!" she says. "Why are you in such a hurry? Everyone's going to Hogsmeade today, so we have the whole common room to ourselves. You would actually think you would want to go see Potter and his big Valentine's Day surprise he's obviously been planning for you."

I kind of zone out after 'Hogsmeade', but then my other best friend, Isabella Lott, comes up to us. Izzy, as we call her, or Bella, has brown hair and blue eyes, and is short. The thing about Bella is that she's a hopeless romantic at heart and is constantly cooing over what Potter does for me. She says, "Sorry Alice, but I don't really think that Lily here is interested in the fact that it's a Hogsmeade weekend."

Woah, woah, wait.

Weekend?

Weekend?

Oh, bloody hell.

I am such an idiot.

Of course, just the day that I decide to hurry as if my life depended on it, it's a Saturday.

This is all going on in my head, but on the outside, I groan.

"You have got to tell me you are kidding. I rush like there's a troll chasing me to get to Potions, and then I come down here only for you two to tell me it's a bleeding weekend."

Isabella smiles, but Alice is laughing her head off by now, causing the whole Hall to look at her.

"You know," she says in between peals of laughter, "That sounds like exactly the thing you would do, trying to go to a class, even on a weekend."

Bella actually starts to giggle at this and soon joins Alice in fits of laughter, while I grumble and huff and start to eat my breakfast.

I'm on my toes for the rest of the day, and there's only one reason: James Potter.

You see, Potter is intent on getting me to go out with him. No matter how many times I reject him, he still keeps trying. I'm on the brink of hexing him at this moment.

But today, I have to be extra careful.

Last year on Valentine's, back when I was a first year, he got some fifth year to charm all of my plates, cutlery and cups to serenade me for the entire day. It was mortifying.

So, naturally, I'm extra careful today, because I didn't want him jumping out of some random corner and start dancing with me. I swear to god, if he even tries doing that, he will have to hop to Gryffindor Tower because I have mastered the Leg-Locker Curse and he might just lose some male parts.

For the entire morning, nothing happened.

Until noon.

At lunch, Marc Ackermann asks me if I want to go have a walk around the Lake, so I say, "Yes". But sadly, Potter just has to sit two people away from me and just has to hear the whole thing. Right now, Marc is getting five boils on his face every second, until Professor McGonagall escorts him to the Hospital Wing. I round on Potter.

"You—bloody—arse." I hiss at him. Yes, I know; some colourful language, but you learn it when you spend as much time around Alice as I do.

Anyway, Potter is trying to slip his wand back into his pocket inconspicuously, but it doesn't work, because as soon as I say those words, the whole Hall goes silent, and looks at me and Potter, waiting for the shouting match to begin. They had grown used to it, and I think they even found it quite amusing.

Stupid prats.

"You do know that whoever I go on a date with, is none, and absolutely none of your business?" I say this very calmly, steely, cold.

"Well, you know Evans, I just couldn't resist helping you, I mean, have you seen the way he looks at just about every girl in the whole school?"

"Why would you even care, Potter?" My temper rises.

"Because," he says, now standing up and standing in my face "I think that you would be better off with me."

"You know what Potter," I say very sweetly, "I'll date you."

He grins.

"When Hell freezes over."

His grin falters, and he looks genuinely hurt, which makes me guilty. But despite that, I turn on my heel and stalk out of the Great Hall.

But my trouble for the day doesn't end there.

No, it's only just beginning.

Well ladies and gents, chapter number three! Now imagine saying that with an annoying presenter's voice.

I'm afraid I might've overused the word 'bloody', but it seemed necessary where it is. Also, there might be some US English in there, sorry for that.

Hope you enjoyed it, and maybe, just maybe, you could make my day by filling in that box right under this. Thanks for reading everyone!

LazySundayGirl

PS. Next chapter should be up next Sunday, but if it's a bit later, it's because I'm incredibly busy...