A/N Chapter Four –She Goes All The Way

So, has anyone heard the new Rascal Flatts album? I'm not even much of a country person and I'm absolutely in love with it. So my advice, go download it :D

The chapter title is from a song on their album by the way

Actually now that you mention it, so is the whole story title.

Anyway, definently listen to Secret Smile. Best song ever.

Alrighttttt, fangirl mode over.

here's chapter four

By the way thanks so much for the feedback, I really appreciate it.

Disclaimer –It's all JRK's

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You know what sucks? Families suck. I mean seriously, this is the one group of people you spend the most time with, yet also are the people you cant choose. You're taught family morals as a kid, such as 'honor thy mother and father', and are expected to just flow with them; no if's, and's or but's.

You're taught that your family will always be there for you and have your back, and all that bullocks. And for the most part, as a kid, this is true. And then you hit those horrible teenage years and someone begins to pull the carpet out from under your toes.

For instance, you're supposed to be with your family during the holidays. It's like in the rule book or something. However apparently, my parents decided to skip that chapter. Because guess what? My folks are going to France this winter break to visit Petunia at boarding school. And guess what else? I am to stay at school.

I don't want to bother going into the details, but basically my parents insist that I'd miss a week of school, which is obviously too much in their opinion. Plus, they reckon it'd be a 'tight squeeze' if I came. Like I weighed 600 lbs, you know?

Anyway, that's what the letter Remus saw tied to my owl's foot said. Which, I might add, was quite the mood killer. So after jotting a quick… colorfully written reply, I was back off to the common room, hoping to find something to raise my mood.

The portrait swung open, and the sweet smell of fire whiskey from the Quidditch party immediately began to suffocate me. Fire whiskey and the faint smell of dung bomb, that is. The room was extremely stuffy and overpopulated, especially in the center of the room where the 'Five Legged Dragons' new single was blaring through somebody's WWN and a huge crowd of people were dancing.

Just at a glance I could notice about fifteen school rules that were being broken, the first and foremost being underage drinking, and the smallest being not using coasters. However, I couldn't help but let out a small smile at the whole ordeal, as well as feel a small sense of pride in my house. After all, I was certain no other house could hold such a gathering, and I could already tell that things were looking up.

Easily spotting a head of blond curls close to the drink table, I slowly made my way over to Lydia, who was standing with Remus and Sirius, throwing her head back in uncontrollable laughter no doubt told by Sirius and found funny by the liquor in her hand.

"Oi!" I called, nearly tripping over a couple that happened to be lying on one of the couches, engrossed in a heavy make out session. I was about to apologize when I noticed that the male had unusually dark and messy hair. And that's when I had to cover my mouth to hide my gag. Because it was Potter whom was horizontal on the couch playing tonsil hockey with some bleach-blond tramp.

I tried to walk away unnoticed, but apparently I had walked pretty hard into the pair, causing them to bash teeth. "Bloody hell…" James complained, holding his jaw and looking up to see who had disturbed them. Catching my eye, he dropped his whine and grinned.

"Hey, flower." He said nonchalantly, as if he wasn't on top of another girl.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust at his choice in pet name. "Flower?"

He laughed, unphased. "I only call you that because I cant quite remember your name, only I know that it's some type of flower… daisy is it? Or maybe it's something that flies on flowers? Like Bee… ooh I like that name, I reckon that's got to be it."

"Ha freaking ha, Potter." I turned to walk away, but his voice stopped me.

"So, why did you bump into us? We were a little busy here," he gestured at himself and said 'bleach blond', and I could tell he was hoping for the best. "Jealousy, I presume?"

I rolled my eyes. "Actually I was going to ask you if you remembered to take your Herpes antidote before you started snogging anyone, but I figured it's too late now anyway, so I'll leave you to it."

I grinned as the blond gasped, deciding to disappear before Potter began to shoot vulgar comments my way. I quickly slipped back into the crowd, ducking underneath the drink table until I had reached where Lydia, Remus, and Sirius had been standing. However, I found Remus alone, carelessly sipping from a bottle of Butterbeer, which I was thankful to see read 'non alcoholic', and watching the crowd.

"Hey," I greeted, grabbing a bottle similar to his off of the table and popping it open. "Where is everyone?"

"Sirius and Lydia, you mean?" He pointed in the direction of the crammed, makeshift dance floor. "Dancing, of course."

I nodded. After all, I should have known. If Lydia loved Quidditch matches then she lived for the parties afterward. She had been quite fond of dancing since the day I had met her, and any excuse to do just that was good enough for her.

And if she had to pick a partner it would obviously be Sirius Black.

"Why'd I even ask?" I wondered out loud, causing Remus to chuckle.

"One of life's many mysteries."

We stood silent for a minute or so, both watching the carefree couples dance and laugh. And I must say, after a while it did look pretty compelling.

"Want to dance?" I asked Remus, catching his gaze.

He smiled but shook his head. "I'm a horrible dancer."

I shrugged, "Me too, we'll make an excellent pair."

"Eh, James would probably get angry."

I snorted, "I'm not asking you to sleep with me,"

Remus snapped his fingers in false disappointment, "Oh damn, and here I was hoping to get lucky," I laughed at his comment and sent him a grin.

"So you'll dance with me?"

"But he'll think it means something… he's very protective over you."

I sighed; annoyed that James Potter could ruin my fun even when he was on the other side of the room attached by the mouth with another girl. "Well then we'll tell him it means nothing. Or better yet, we don't tell him and pretend it does, and then I watch him fume by the ears and beat the crap out of you. Kidding," I added as he raised his eyebrows in horror at me.

"C'mon, we're going now." I grabbed his wrist and pulled him onto the dance floor towards Lydia and Sirius.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Lydia greeted, holding a plastic cup filled with Fire Whiskey above her head as she danced with Sirius.

"Not you too," I sighed, referring to her glass. "Don't expect me to hold your hair back while you're puking tomorrow morning."

Lydia laughed, taking another sip in spite of me. "You always say that, and yet you end up holding it back anyway."

"What can I say" I insisted with a grin, "I like to help the pathetic."

The four of us danced for about a half an hour, up until a slower paced song began to blare throughout the speakers. Sirius immediately grabbed Lydia by the waste and pulled her up against him, but Remus, however, started to back away.

"No, don't leave Remus."

"Eh," he sighed, "I'm not really the slow dance type."

"You're not really the fast dance type either," Sirius mumbled to Lydia, although since he was slightly wasted it came out a bit louder then he had planned. Lydia stomped loudly on his foot to silence him, and Remus blushed slightly.

"Thanks buddy,"

Sirius grinned and gave him the thumbs up before returning his attention back to Lydia.

"I think I'll just sit this one out."

"But-"

"Gosh, Evans you sound so desperate." A voice came from behind me, and I turned to meet James's gaze. "I suppose I'll dance with you so you wont feel like such a loser."

I dramatically rolled my eyes. "Gee thanks, Potter. But sorry, I wouldn't dance with you if you paid me."

"Five galleons?"

"One dance," I agreed, slightly reluctantly. However, I was saving up to buy new dress robes, and every knut counted.

It was Remus's turn to roll his eyes as James put his arms around my waste and I lightly dropped mine around his neck, choking down the question that I was burning to ask him in the back of my throat, that of whether or not he had fleas.

"Your breath smells like alcohol." I complained.

"Well maybe if you moved a little closer you wouldn't have to smell it."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "That doesn't make sense." I insisted, though didn't bother objecting as he pulled me closer, figuring my grievance would be in vain.

"Sure it does, freckles."

I sighed loudly into his ear, which was now only centimeters away. "What is tonight, the night of nicknames? Or do you make them up every time you're smashed? Should I make some up too?"

James laughed but didn't offer an answer, so I continued. "Let's see… you've picked out such great ones for me. Daisy, Bee, and Freckles, am I right? I suppose I should call you something fitting. How about boomerang? Because no matter how far I try to throw you, you always come back."

James chuckled once more and I couldn't help but frown, because the fish just wasn't biting this evening.

"I don't like you when you're intoxicated." I admit, turning to look him in the eye. "You're no fun."

"Actually, I'm not intoxicated. And when I am believe me, I'm fun."

"So you need to be completely wasted to be any fun?" I asked, smirking.

"No," was his cheeky reply. "I need to be around fun people to be fun."

I chose to ignore his comment, instead changing the subject. "So how's Lindsay? Looking different from the last time I saw her, I must say. And I could have sworn she was in Ravenclaw!" I sarcastically mentioned his girlfriend, whom obviously hadn't been the girl he was kissing.

"That, my dear, was Rachel."

"So you broke up with Lindsay?"

"Not quite yet," Although I had known that that would be the answer, I still couldn't help but scrunch my nose in disgust and pull away from his grip.

"That's horrible."

James shrugged. "I know, isn't it great?" He planted a smile on his face, which I quickly wiped off with a stern glance.

"No it isn't, it's a weak and foul."

"How is it weak?" He asked, slightly perplexed. We were no longer dancing, yet still standing relatively close to each in the middle of the room.

"It's weak that you don't have enough self control to stop yourself from making out with another girl before you drop the one that you already have!" I don't know why I was angry in the first place. It's not like it was really any of my business. I just hated players. I hated people who didn't mind hurting others for their own sick amusement.

"That's not a weakness if I had no inclination to being faithful in the first place,"

"So why ask her out then?" I wondered, my voice rising above his. "I'm certain that you could easily find some pathetic girl who just wants a good, no commitment snog session, just like you!"

He frowned; his voice had also risen, yet remained quite a bit calmer then mine. "Why do you even care? It's none of your business in the first place."

Would 'I don't bloody know,' be an expectable answer? Because that certainly was the truth. However, I opted to sting rather then show my own weakness. "I care because people like you make me sick and disgusted and I'd rather keep my dinner down, thanks."

"Oh yes," He agreed, voice drenched with heavy sarcasm and still gaining power. "EVERYBODY!" began his holler, motioning wildly to the wide number of eavesdroppers around the room. "LILY EVANS FEELS SICK AND DISGUSTED WHEN PEOPLE KISS. SO COULD EVERYONE PLEASE OBLIGE HER AND BECOME NUNS?"

That really did it. I seriously could feel smoke coming from my ears. Just allow James Potter to take words and jumble them up just to make other people look bad, rather then actually come up with something witty to return.

I stepped forward, closing the space between us. Though I was seething mad, I managed to drop my voice to just above a whisper. I could feel every person in that room clinging to my words like the first snowfall, yet none of it mattered.

All that mattered was Potter and me, and the argument at hand.

"Or better yet, let's all oblige Potter and wait in a line for him to us up like toilet paper, carelessly flushing us away each time. In fact, why doesn't everyone just brew up some polyjuice potion so we can be him? What's not to like; with the ridiculous hair that's always everywhere, the underdeveloped personality, and, of course, the charm that seems like it's suffered a train wreck? I must say, just thinking about owning those traits makes me giddy."

"At least I'm not romantically stunted, miss 'I'm too scared to have a relationship because I'm afraid of the aftermath!'"

I laughed cruelly, "I was wondering when this lovely topic would pop up. And when you mention aftermath, are you referring to the downfall of my sanity? Because I'd have to be insane to date you."

"Hilarious, Evans. Bloody hilarious. That's the thing though; you make jokes, but you and I both know that deep down you don't hate the idea of you and me."

"You're completely right." I agreed mockingly. " 'Cause my dream has always been to be another notch on the 'ol bed post."

"No but-"

"Merlin James, give it up. Go have another drink, Mr. 'Oh, I'm not intoxicated!' Go have a drink and while you're at it, snog a few more people. That sounds fun, doesn't it?"

I didn't wait for a reply but instead turned on my heel and marched right up to my dormitory, not bothering to spare him another look.

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The next morning came much too quickly. After reaching my dorm the previous night I had head straight to the shower in a desperate attempt to drown my anger. However, it only resulted in me using up all of the hot water and gaining pruney fingers.

I changed into my pajamas and jumped into bed, though doubted that I would fall asleep anytime soon, as I was too worked up for sleep. However, I proved myself false, drifting off only minutes later.

I rolled over, squinting at the clock on my bedside table for the time, which read ten o'clock. Slowly standing, I yawned loudly and looked around the room to see if any of my other roommates had risen. Karli's bed was already made and her curtains open, so I figured she'd already made it down to breakfast. Liz's bed was also vacant, but a quick look at the closed bathroom door let me know she was occupying it; no doubt getting sick.

I turned in my other direction and laid eyes on Lydia's sleeping figure. Her curtains weren't drawn all the way and her heavy Gryffindor comforter was pulled up high, covering her head.

I stepped towards her, and upon reaching the bed I nudged her so she moved slightly over and dropped on top of the blankets, lying beside her.

"Good morning," I greeted quietly, as to not disturb her sure-to-be headache.

"What's good about it?" She grumbled, rolling over but keeping the covers pulled tightly over her head.

"I hear you there," I replied, absentmindedly toying with a lock of my hair. "Sick?"

Lydia grunted what I took to be a yes. I sat quietly for a moment, figuring she'd eventually attempt to get up.

"We have a problem,"

I turned my head in the direction of the lump that I took to be her body, deciding to cautiously lift the blanket off from over her head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She repeated, not yelling at me for taking off the blanket but instead looking at me with frightened horror. "I'm wearing boxers."

I rose an eyebrow at her, wondering if she was still a little drunk, but still concerned due to the serious face she was giving me. "And that means…?"

"I'm wearing boxers!" She repeated, as if it was plain as day. "I don't wear boxers, Lil. These are guys boxers. I got drunk last night and yet I don't remember anything. All I know is I'm wearing boxers."

My jaw dropped, my mouth forming a small 'o' as realization sunk in. And here I was thinking I had a bad evening.

Here I was, a little argument with a guy that means nothing to me. Here Lydia was, confused, having done god knows what with god knows who.

"Right. Boxers."

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A/N Okay I know this was kind of bad, but review anyway. I'll probably edit it a bit then repost it. Review anyway though.

And by the way, the ending part with Lydia is dedicated to my friend Olivia, who's had quite the similar experience… multiple times. Hah.

Review.