Disclaimer: Sadly, my wish upon a star has not been granted, and I am still plain old NeverAPrefect, not JKR.

Hello hello hello, reader-type chaps! I hope that you are having a lovely summer holiday. Mine is...well, interesting. To say the least. But then again, things usually are when two of your brothers decide to blow up your mum's garden gnome. (Mum wasn't too pleased- but it was bloody hilarious) Anyway, to the nub and gist of my rambling- here I sit, at 4 in the morning, sneaking onto my computer to get this up (another long story, involving a brother or two, and online order form, and Mum getting her knickers in a twist. Of course they had to use my computer. Boys. Completely hopeless) and so I hope you enjoy it! Special huggles to Sweet or Sour, polkadot6287, SuddenlyImLost, tashville007 (very Bond of you, by the way), pinkamyharley, and as always, to my wonderous but dim cousin, bellasutton (I do hope your American arse likes this)


Chapter Three: Transfiguration

I stormed into the Gryffindor seventh year girls' dormitories after the feast that night. Potter was so bloody infuriating! Somehow, despite my efforts to the contrary, he had wound up sitting across from me at the feast.

"Evans! What a pleasant surprise!" he had said, as if it was some shock that I was sitting there. Shock, my arse.

I had glared up at him, "Potter."

He had jabbered the whole meal, mostly at me, but sometimes he would talk quietly to his friends, and that made me nervous. Potter muttering to Black, Remus, and Peter. Never a good sign. In the past, these lovely conversations usually climaxed with something being blown up.

I stalked over to my bed, and threw open my trunk. I started rummaging through it, looking for my pajamas. Though, looking back, it would have been better if I had simple remembered the stack that I had placed them in when I packed. Instead, I tore apart my trunk, which I later regretted. I was usually obsessively neat, and ruining the neatly organized piles of my trunk was akin to breaking the Statute for Underage Wizardry. I didn't even notice, though, peeved as I was about Potter.

Emily noticed, "Erm, Lily, you alright?"

"Absolutely spiffing," I grumbled, jerking a t-shirt over my head.

Bridget looked at me, from the messy trunk at my feet to the twin red spots of anger on my cheeks, "Oh, come off it, Lily! James isn't that bad."

I glared at her, "Oh, really? And you would know this how? Does he follow you around like a puppy? Does he purposely sit across from you at dinner, just because he knows it annoys you?"

Bridget rolled her eyes, "Oh, honestly, Lil. You do know the only reason he does any of that is because he completely adores you? He fancies you, Lily. And you know what? I think that once you get you head out of your arse, you'll realize that you just might fancy him, too."

I couldn't even bring myself to glare at her, I was so shocked. Bridget turned around and climbed into her bed. Within seconds, she was fast asleep.

I looked at Emily. She grinned sheepishly, "I…I think Bridget may be right."

"What?!"

"Lily, even you have to admit that Potter's matured. And not just physically," she giggled, "He's not as much of a pompous twit anymore, and he acts much more normal, when he's off the Quidditch pitch at least," Emily said gently.

I was completely gob-smacked. My two best friends, telling me that Potter, the boy I had spent almost my entire Hogwarts career absolutely loathing, might actually be an alright bloke. It was completely unreal. And not in a good way.

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should go out with Potter then."

After that, Emily and I got into our beds. I was still fuming, but now I had these nasty little questions that kept popping up into my head. Like what if my mates were right? Who was I kidding? Of course they were wrong. They just had to be.

I woke up the next morning to a pillow being lovingly tossed at me.

More like launched at me like a bloody bludger.

"Lily!" Emily almost shrieked, panicking, "Get up! We're going to be late for breakfast!"

I groaned and rolled out of bed. Count on me to be late the first day of classes. Bridget was swiping something on her eyelids and Emily was fastening her watch. I yanked my robes on, slapped my hair up into a very messy ponytail, meanwhile promising myself that I would take a shower tonight. I probably looked like hell, I hadn't slept well due to the annoying little buggers of questions that my dear, dear friends had posed me with, and now I was going to be late. And spend my entire day exhausted.

My friends and I dashed out of our dormitory, through the Common Room, and down to the Great Hall.

Bridget and I gazed around. Neither of us had as much time as we would have liked to get ready, and here we were, neither of us looking even remotely presentable. And not even two-thirds of the school was there yet. Both of us threw a glare at Emily, who looked us all innocently, as if she did nothing wrong.

We walked over to the Gryffindor table and flopped down near a few sixth years. I recognized two right away- Alice Gordon and Frank Longbottom- they were the sixth year Gryffindor prefects. Just as I was about to smile at Alice and ask her how her holiday was, I saw something out of the corner of my eye that made my smile fade faster than a Vanishing Charm.

Potter and his cronies were waltzing into the Great Hall, Potter and Black leading the way. They were shoving each other and laughing. Remus was walking just behind them, smiling as he read his book. And Peter was anxiously keeping up, a look of almost veneration on his pimply round face.

My eyes met Potter's when they were about halfway into the Great Hall. He got a funny look, almost confused, but oddly apprehensive, on his face. He reached up to ruffle his hair, as usual, but stopped halfway and hesitantly lowered his hand again. I shot him a bemused look. Not usual Potter-like behavior.

Apparently I had no need to worry about the sudden change in Potter's behavior. He came up and sat down next to- no, scratch that, practically on top of is more accurate- me. And Black squished in between Emily and I. Remus and Peter joined Bridget on the bench across from us.

"Good morrow, Miss Evans. Don't you look like the picture of health," Black commented with a wink.

"That's unfortunate. I was going for the Muggle supermodel look. Too bad that didn't work out," I replied dryly.

Peter gave a quick laugh and Black shot him a "shut up now" look.

"So, Evans. Sleep well?" Potter asked.

"Reasonably well. A little better if Bridget didn't snore," I smiled sweetly at my friend, who was glaring.

Before Potter could say anything else, Professor McGonagall made her way to us with our schedules.

"Miss Cummings, I assume that you will be keeping up with the same subjects from last year? You still wish to be a Healer?" the Gryffindor head of house asked, her stern eyebrows raised expectantly, and approvingly, at Emily.

"Of course, Professor," Emily smiled up at Professor McGonagall.

"Mr. Black, I assume you are still going to be taking whatever it is that Mr. Potter is taking?" this time Professor McGonagall wasn't looking very approving. In fact, if I were Black, I probably would have run away by now. But of course, since he was Black, he was just looking unconcerned.

"Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Miss Evans?" Professor McGonagall looked at me, her wand hovering over the next piece of parchment.

"The same, Professor," I replied.

"Mr. Potter? The same as Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed together in a line so thin that it looked like she didn't even have lips.

Potter gave the same unconcerned answer as Black. Then Professor McGonagall gave Remus, Peter, and Bridget their schedules and walked away.

I glanced at my schedule briefly before turning to ask Emily when she had Herbology, but before I could do so, an arm reached around me and grabbed my schedule.

"So, what classes do we have together, Evans?" Potter asked, smiling as he held my schedule just out of my reach.

"Potter, give it back," I said as I tried to reach across him and grab it.

"Say the magic word," he said, his eyes teasing.

I rolled my eyes, "Please."

"If you can reach it."

I couldn't, so I reached up and grabbed Potter's wrist and pulled it down to me to get my schedule back. Oddly enough, he didn't resist my pulling. I turned to look at him and then caught my breath. Potter's hazel eyes were only inches from my own, gazing into my eyes as if he could see the depths of my soul. I was suddenly hyper aware of exactly how close we were- how I was leaning into his chest, how his arm was gently wrapped around my waist, and how my fingers were still wrapped around his wrist. I quickly let go, flustered. I could feel myself going as red as my hair.

"You shouldn't take other people's things, Potter," I mumbled, ducking my head.

I heard a soft chuckled on my other side. Black was looking at me amusedly, eyebrows raised, "Neither should you, Lily."

I stared at him. What in the name of Merlin's pantyhose was he talking about?

Potter cleared his throat. I looked at him. He was a little pink, too, but had a smirk plastered across his face.

"Looks like we have almost every class together, Evans," Potter said, showing me his own schedule.

Fan-bloody-tastic. As if my term couldn't possibly be any better than it already was.

Emily and Bridget went with me back up to Gryffindor tower to get our Transfiguration books- we all had Transfiguration first. And so did my absolute favourite person ever. Eurgh. Somehow, I had drawn the short straw at every turn this term. Not only did I have to spend almost my entire day of classes with Potter today, oh no. It got even better. As Head Boy and Girl, we were required to patrol the hallways after hours, looking for students out of bed. You want to hear my favourite part? We had to do it together. Yep. Whoever said "the more the merrier" was bloody delusional.

"What a terrible day," grumbled Bridget as we walked out of the portrait hole.

"I know. Transfiguration, Charms, and Double Potions with the Slytherins all in one day," Emily agreed.

"Whoever thought that it was smart to stick Gryffindors and Slytherins together? I mean, honestly, it's not like they haven't been enemies since the start of Hogwarts," I commented sarcastically. I mean, really. Why did the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws get to do everything together? Its not like they have a millennium of disagreeable history behind them. Everyone in the magical world knows that Gryffindors and Slytherins hate each other. And they still stick us together for blooming everything.

"Oh, I don't know. The Slytherins aren't all bad," Emily replied, ever the optimist.

Bridget and I stopped walking and stared at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

I shook my head and Bridget sarcastically commented, "Oh, no, Em. And Sirius Black looks like a hag's backside."

"Why thanks, Bridget. I think you're pretty cute, too," said a decidedly male voice from behind us. And I had a pretty good guess on exactly whose male voice it was. And who accompanied him.

"Thanks, Sirius. Does that line work with all your girlfriends?" Bridget shot back, her blue eyes blazing.

Black opened his mouth to say something, but Emily cut in, "That's not possible, Bridget. Black doesn't have girlfriends- he has dates that he changes just about as often as he changes knickers."

Potter laughed, "Ouch, mate. It bites."

Black grinned, but there was something off about his grin, "Not to worry, Prongsy old chap. I can't hate someone for telling the truth. That would be mean of me."

Boys. Disgusting.

We all walked to class. Including Potter and the Idiots. Okay, I take that back- Remus is pretty nice. Most of the time. Potter and Black were singing very loudly- and rather obnoxiously, too- some song about a banshee and firewhiskey. And something to do with broomsticks. They were alternating each line, making it up as the went. If it weren't such a wanky thing to do, it would have been more entertaining.

We walked into Transfiguration, where Em, Bridget, and I took the last three spots together. Which forced The Marauders apart. Potter and Black looked dramatically heartbroken and started going into dramatic hysterics at the thought of parting from each other.

"My darling Sirius-kins! I shall be longing for you every moment we're apart. But never fear! Our love is undeniable, and distance cannot break that!" Potter cried, going down on one knee and playing the part of the dewy-eyed minstrel very well.

"Oh, Jamesy! I simply can't leave you! My heart will pine for you every minute I'm gone!" Black wailed as he threw the back of his had to his forehead.

I rolled my eyes and laughed (yes, I admit it- I laughed) "He'll pine and I'm a holly bush," I muttered.

Just then, Professor McGonagall walked into the classroom. Right as Black was declaring his undying love for Potter. McGonagall raised an eyebrow at them.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black. Stop this carrying on at once. If you are so concerned about being separated, may I recommend that you take to two seats in the row behind Miss Cummings?" McGonagall pursed her lips as Potter and Black burst into raptures of joy and sat down in the row…

Right behind me.

What god had I offended?

"Now then. I hope all of our emotional issues are taken care of?" McGonagall surveyed the class with her sharp eye as Sondra Jennings and Daphne Sharpton giggled and fluttered their eyes at Black and Potter, who I could hear blow kisses back.

As if that helped.

"Good," McGonagall snapped, "Miss Jennings, if you and Miss Sharpton would like to join me for detention next Friday, continue with that behavior. As I was about to say- this term starts off with a project. As this is your N.E.W.T year, you will be expected to put great effort into this project- it will be your first assignment in this class, and heavily affect your end-of-term marks. We will be continuing our regular coursework as well, never fret."

Lovely.

"Now, I am handing out slips of parchment, on which will appear the name of your partner for this project…"

Not good. I hated partner projects.

"Once everybody has a slip, the name will appear," McGonagall handed everyone a slip of parchment.

When the entire class had been given a slip, McGonagall waved her wand and words flowed onto the parchment in emerald ink.

Oh, no.

You have got to be bloody joking.


Well, there you are, darlings. I do hope you liked it, and weren't retching while reading (though why you wouldn't just stop reading if that were the case is beyond my brains) Chapter Four will be up as soon as I get it out of my head and onto papier. Or rather computer screen. Review, please! Lots of luuuuuuurrrrve-

-NeverAPrefect