Chapter eleven:

CPR For Dummies

Disclaimer: There is no possible way that the amazing world of Harry Potter (characters, setting, magic, and Butterbeer etc.) could have been made by anyone less as intelligent as J.K.R. (and unfortunately, I fall into the category of lessor intelligence).

A/N: When Lily talks about how cold it is, I want to make it clear that she's talking about Celsius, not Fahrenheit. I myself use the latter, but I know that over in the U.K. they use Celsius, so that's the system Lily is using.

"Good Morning, class!" I said brightly to the crowd of first years piling into my room for Charms.

After an extremely successful first day of takeover week, I was not worried in the slightest about my first class that Tuesday. I mean, first years? How much trouble could a bunch of eleven year olds be?

Famous last words.

"So I think that he actually does kind of..."

"Screech! Bam! Woosh! Kazam!"

"Look at this: I can stick my wand up my..."

"Give me it back! I told you that I don't wanna let..."

"My mum was going to hex this chicken, but..."

"And so then this guy, like, flew through the window and his head, like, totally burst into..."

A rush of conversations flew at me as the class took its seats. They looked so small and innocent. I sighed, remembering back to my first year. How long ago that seemed. Back before Potter was obsessed with me, and he was merely just another cootie-infected boy.

Come on Lily, I told myself sternly. Snap out of it. Let's go. Time to teach. You can daydream later. Not of course that Potter is a sentimental part of your reminiscent daydream. He's an idiot who should be pitied. Right? Of course. Oh, cripes, just start teaching already.

"My name is Miss Evans," I said confidently to the many faces gazing up at me. "And I will be your Charms teacher this week. Now, when I call your name please say Present in a loud, clear voice. If you are not here today I would obviously prefer that you inform me of your absence." Several students laughed, while the others grinned. Good. Nothing like a little joviality to endear the students.

After running through the roll I call I cleared my throat, and began the lesson. "Today we are going to work on the fairly simple Lumos spell." I wrote the word Lumos on the board behind me, and underlined it. "Can anyone tell me what Lumos--" I spotted a raised hand. "Yes?"

A tiny girl with dark brown dreadlocks and thin wire-framed glasses looked brightly up at me. "The Lumos spell is a beginner level charm which, when executed properly, produces a bright beam of light from the user's wand," she said hurriedly.

I took a step back. I wasn't used to facing direct quotes from The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). Then I grinned. She sounded a bit like me, really. Except for the memorizing the textbook part. I was never that dedicated (i.e.: mental).

"Well done. Thank you. And your name is--"

"Melody Bridgespot," the girl replied softly.

"Very good, Melody. Five points to, um, what house are you in?

"I'm in Ravenclaw." Figured. All the insanely smart ones were.

"Oh, right, then. Five points to Ravenclaw." I turned back to the chalkboard as the class broke into giggles. "As Miss Bridgespot correctly identified, Lumos is a light-casting spell. The principals of the spell are simple. A quick jerk of of the wand while saying Lumos in a clear voice produces a large beam of light." I turned back to the class. "Write that down please."

"Um, can you repeat that?" Asked a pudgy boy in the back row.

"Of course," I said cheerfully. "Lumos is a light-casting spell. It is produced by a---"

A voice from the middle of the room called out, "I don't have any ink!"

"Oh, well can you please share with your neighbor? Now, then. As I was saying, Lumos is produced by a jerk of---"

"I can't!"

"I'm sorry? You can't what?"

"I can't share my neighbor's ink."

Was his neighbor a leper? Or was she, gasp, a member of that vile and loathed species, GIrls? Pre-teen boys could be so vexing. "Why on earth not?"

The tiny boy with wavy blond hair stood up. He crossed his arms across his chest, and I saw him smirk at the red-haired girl next to him. "I bloody well can't borrow some of my neighbor's ink, because my neighbor lives in Yorkshire, and is probably walking her Shar-Pei right now, and is no where near a bottle of ink that I could borrow!" The class erupted in laughter. With what I thought was a Herculean effort, I restrained from rolling my eyes.

I marched down the aisle and placed a bottle of ink on the cheeky little blighter's desk. "There you are." I turned to head back up to the front of the room. From out of nowhere, a leg shot out, and I tripped, tumbling head first onto the floor.

There was another explosion of laughter, mixed with a smattering of amused applause for the person who was attached to the leg that I had so neatly fallen over.

I stood up slowly. I wanted to laugh: I mean I certainly could see how funny it was from the students point of view. If someone had tripped a teacher in one of my classes, I would have been hard put to refrain from bursting out laughing. But, someone had to maintain order. Someone had to make sure that the students continued to respect the teachers. Someone had to ensure that completely classes did not consist of complete pandemonium. Really, though, it probably shouldn't have been me.

I forced my face into a stern scowl and straightened up to face the students. I strode back to my desk. "Everyone will open their books to page 134. You will silently copy what Goshawk has to say on the theory of the Lumos charm. Next you will summarize the thirteen main points of the charm's history, and write a brief essay on the charm's origins and execution." The class groaned loudly. I stared sternly down at them. "When one person steps out of line, everyone is disciplined. Keep that in mind." I continued to glare at the first years until they had all pulled out their books and parchment.

With a burst of pride at having effectively managed an outburst of chaos, I walked sedately back to my desk and sat down.

Three seconds later I had jumped out of my seat and was staring down at the wet, squishy and now somewhat flattened flobberworm that I had just sat upon.

To my vexation, the class laughed heartily. I glared at them. "Put away your books," I said through clenched teeth. "We're having a pop quiz." There was a shuffling of papers and mumbled grumbling, but the class obediently closed their books. Picking up a piece of chalk, I wrote on the chalkboard:

Who came up with the concept of the Lumos spell?

What is its counterpart?

Name and describe the eight possible defensive uses of this spell.

Extra credit: Who put a flobberworm on Miss Evans' chair?

Instead of returning to my now-gooey and damp seat I stood in the middle of the classroom watching the students scribbling frantically on their papers. I looked out the window with a sigh. This was not going as well as I had hoped. Oh, well. One bad class out of the whole day could be managed. At least they were behaving now.

I looked back at the students to see Melody Bridgespot patiently raising her hand. I hurried over to her. Of all of the students she hadn't laughed when I had been pranked. I could only think therefore that she was the nicest person I had met all day. In my desperate mind she deserved an award for least-cruel person on earth.

"Yes, Miss Bridgespot?" I whispered, bending down to talk to her, and was promptly drenched in a bucket of water from behind.

As could have been predicated, the rest of the class went straight downhill from there. Before the bell rang I was bombarded with chalk; had my desk set on fire twice; faced with students hanging from the rafters; and had several pieces of Droobles' Best Blowing Gum stuck into my hair.

By the end of the class the only satisfying thing that I could say about it was that I managed to give detentions to the entire class with the exception of Melody Bridgespot who had worked diligently throughout the bedlam, and a boy named Roderick Lucas who had slept through the whole period. As he hadn't actually taken part in the havoc I felt that his napping was completely excusable. At least he hadn't taken part in the Longest-Drool contest that had taken place in the right back corner of the room.

Okay Lillers, you're done now.

What! I was barely beginning! I mean the rest of the day went so well! Why can't I tell more?

Because I want Potter to do some. He promised that he'd skip to the staff meeting that night.

Ugh. Don't remind me of that horrible incident.

Um, sorry, Lily. I'm going to.

Fine James. Be that way.

But it's so important.

Can't we just cut to after the meeting?

Geez, Lily. I have to set up our dramatic first---

Okay. Whatever. Just get on with it.

As you wish...

"Good evening, thanks for being here, blah, blah, blah." It was the end of the second day of takeover week. I had recently woken up from a three hours of chocolate-induced lethargy and as a result was feeling laid-back and energized. Kind of conflicting emotions, I know, but chocolate can do a lot of unexpected things. Like-- Well, this one time it involved toilet paper and crocodiles. And raging, lunatic drunken kittens, not that I'm giving too much away, mind. It's a pretty funny story. Remind me to tell it sometime. Just not now. There was too much other interesting drama going on. Even bigger than drunk Siamese kittens.

"This staff meeting was called," said Evans brightly, "To discuss how takeover week is going as of yet, and to share any important incidents that have occurred." That's my girl, I thought. She's so, so-- assertive! I tried not to sigh too dreamily.

Next to me Padfoot whispered, "Lily, O, Lily. Wherefore art thou Lily?" in a mocking tone. I trod rather heavily on his toes. His whimpers of pain interrupted Evan's friend Margaret's report on how the Arithmancy classes were progressing. I put on my best innocent face, and begin to carve my initials into the arm of the high-backed chair I was siting in.

Five carved snitches, seven embossed broken hearts, and thirteen scratched L.E. + J.P.s later, I finally heard Evans say my name.

"Now I believe that James Potter, our," Evans coughed, "Headmaster, has a few words he'd like to share with us." She smiled in what I could only hope was not a patronizing manner at me, as I hauled myself to my feet.

"Thanks, Evans." I leaned casually back against the wall, my arms folded and my head tipped broodingly towards the ceiling. It's a very dashing look of contemplative authority. And hell, after practicing it forty-three times in front of my mirror and Peter, it looked bloody marvelous, if I do say so myself. And I do. Not that I am self-conceited or anything. Right. I've already been over this. I just know how absolutely gorgeous and cool I am.

Drawing a casual hand through my freshly washed hair (which smelled faintly of coconuts), I stared lazily into the fire. "Well, it sounds like everyone's been doing just a smashing job so far."

Behind my I heard Remus mutter, "When has he ever used the word smashing before?"

"---And I hope you continue doing great. Incidentally, though, I happened to walk past the Charms classroom this morning, Evans, and could have sworn I heard demonic laughter. Was everything all right?"

Evans clenched her teeth and clasped her hands together so tight her knuckles went white. "Oh, my first years were just being, um, exuberant during their lesson today. Everything was completely under control. Thank you so much for your concern."

I turned to her friend Bridget and whispered, "Is she lying? I mean I think she might be, but I really can't tell, but you know that---"

Bridget rolled her eyes at me and muttered something to Margaret that sounded distinctly like "What an idiot." Though I could have been mistaken.

"Well, um, that's good that nothing was wrong," I stared fascinated at Evans' hair. It was so shiny-looking in the candlelight, so red and so smooth that I found myself with a deep, desperate longing for... Tomato soup. Maybe after I'd pranked Filch tonight, I would go down to the kitchens and get some creamy tomato soup. Yum.

I leaned back against the wall again, tilting my head again to stare around the room at the assembled crowd. "I think that just about raps this meeting up. But I would like to give you the password into my office just in case you ever feel in need of advice, encouragement, or butterscotch brownies." I grinned. Koodle kept me well stocked with deserts. "The password for my office is, and I'm sure that this will be easy to remember since it's a sentiment that we all share, is I Love Lily Evans."

There was a loud audible silence, if silence can be heard. Then there was a tremendous and resounding thud as Padfoot fell off his chair in silent and forcible laughter.

I looked over at Evans, and to my surprise saw that she was standing, white-face and shaking. Someone near her muttered, "Uh-oh."

Uh-oh indeed.

"Thank for that incredibly thick-headed complement, Mr. Potter," said Lily in a cold voice. Everyone else in the room immediately backed their chairs away from the two of us. Evans stepped closely to me and began to whisper in a harsh, cold whisper.

"Has it ever crossed your mind that perhaps your never-ending stream of affection is unwanted or misguided?" she whispered roughly. "Can you not go for a day without another pathetic attempt at winning my attention? Why do you not understand that---" She drew a deep breath and slowly lowered her arms to her sides. "Mr. Potter," she continued, her voice rising from a whisper. It was very close to shrieking, "for the past several years you have directed all of your attention towards me. Many people know me only as The Girl Who James Potter Likes. I am sick, no, exhausted of you trying to make me go out with you. Stop making me the object of your affection!"

"Oh God, now she's yelling," whispered a cowering seventh year. Several people began creeping towards the door.

"Oh, don't leave on my account," Evans said sweetly to the retreating students, before wheeling around furiously to face me again.

"I have had enough of you Potter! I have tolerated your affections! Yes I have yelled at you, but I always maintained a glimmer of hope that you were a decent person underneath. But, I just can't take it any more!"

I stared at her in disbelief. Was this really just about a password? I hadn't thought it would make her mad. I was in love with her for God's sake. Why the hell couldn't she see that!

"I never wanted to overwhelm you or--"

"Well, frankly you did! Potter you insult me with your obsession! Do you hear me? To have such a despicable person as yourself, spending every waking moment thinking about me makes me sick! Why can't you leave me along?"

"Damn it, Evans! How hard is it for you to understand that I'm not just trying to stalk you or something! I like you so much that I even tried to stop liking you so that you could be happy! If I make you sick, well, so what? You don't understand the meaning of love---"

The only ones left in the room now where Sirius, Remus, Margaret and Bridget who had begun a game of Exploding Snap, clearly anticipating this to be a long argument.

"Potter, why would I be able to understand the meaning of love? No one's ever given me a chance, since you've always been pretending to be in love with me! I have no love-life thanks to you! Your mere presence is stifling my life! Why can't you leave me alone?"

"I'll never leave you alone! Not ever! I just want to protect you and, and... Hell, I don't know! I wouldn't give you up for a million pogo-sticks!"

Evans gave a demented shriek of hysterical laughter. "Ha! You think you're so funny! Just, just stay away from me, all right? Go, go live a life that doesn't have me in it! You never will have a chance, James Potter! Just accept that! God dammit, I hate you, and you won't bloody leave me alone!" She looked at me with such loathing and disgust that I thought my heart would tear in two, like the carvings I had drawn on my chair. Evans gasped wildly, tears dripping down her face and ripped open the door, flinging herself out into the hallway.

I glanced over at my friends. They were staring at me. "Um, we got all that stuff from the kitchens last night. Want to, uh, go prank Filch?" mumbled Sirius.

I jammed my hands in my pockets and strode toward the door. "No. I'm... Going for a walk."

As I left I heard Sirius muttering confusedly about how perplexed he was about this whole situation. "I mean, who doesn't want to prank Filch?"

Oh. My. Lord. Oh, James.

Yeah.

Oh, honey, I didn't remember it was that bad.

It was. I just couldn't, I couldn't... I never really even understood why you were so mad, and---

I don't know either. I just sort of felt... Tired. I was tired of you in my life, I guess. And even a million pogo sticks wasn't going to cut it. May I please take over?

With manners like that? James your wife is way too stuffy to be talking!

Sirius! You are ruining my and Lily's moment here! Lily, of course you may continue the story. Just ignore me while I pummel Padfoot.

Do try not to rip his celestial robes. You know how hard they are to repair...

The grounds of Hogwarts glittered as the setting sun illuminated the soft, smooth, snow covered grounds. Icicles hung heavily from the snowy boughs of trees. Not a sound could be heard throughout the peaceful, calm wonderland the snow had created.

Which is why it kind of sucked that I plowed right through the snow, trampling it down, and breaking several icicles from the trees as I stormed through the grounds. My trail looked like the vicious looked like the sight of a massacre of snowflakes.

Their tiny, wet, silver screams went unheard though, as I stomped down towards the frozen lake. I was so angry that I felt little of the cold, despite the fact that ice was beginning to crystalize on my inappropriately attired shoulders.

The tears that were splashing down my face tinkled merrily to the ground as miniscule ice cubes, shattering the moment they hit the hard snow. I hardly knew why I was so upset, just that I was wishing that the lake wasn't covered in ice and snow, or I would have shoved Potter into its deepest, darkest, coldest, most squid-infested depths. The least I could do was kill him in effigy.

Pulling a large pine cone from a nearby tree, I shoved two pine sprigs into the side.

"Okay," I told it. "You are the ugly and cruel and vicious and all-around obnoxious James Potter." I picked up a sharp icicle. "And now you will die." I jammed the icicle down onto the center of the pine cone.

And the ice shattered. Three more successive tries left me panting slightly from exertion and frustration. Just as in my life, my mini-Potter would not leave or fade away. Or in this case, turn into crusty pine cone crumbs. Though it would be infinitely more desirable if I could have that effect on the actual James Potter. The hard part would be finding an icicle thick enough to pierce his dense skull...

I almost laughed. My anger was ebbing away now, and was being replaced with, well, I wasn't sure WHAT I was feeling. Part of me was feeling so remorseful I wanted to start crying again, while another part of me was ready to hire a mercenary to knock off the annoying loser who was Potter.

Needless to say, I was one conflicted little lady. My brain wasn't in such turmoil, however, that I couldn't register the cold. Far from it. With the departure of my frustration, the internal fire that had steamed and warmed as I raged, had gone too. I suddenly realized just how freaking cold it was. And how little warmth a wool mini-skirt and cotton button-down short gave. Despite my knee socks, I was shocked to discover myself shivering. I suppose that negative-four degree temperatures can do that to a girl.

My teeth chattering, I turned and headed back towards the castle, knowing that although Potter might be in the common room, preening his ego in a tale that featured me as the ultimate bitch, I was bettered off in a warm cozy armchair by a roaring fire listening to his lies, then freezing out in knee-deep snow.

My ranting, tear-driven march had taken me to the far side of the lake, and I was nearly halfway around the ice-covered water when I spotted a lone figure tramping towards me.

Who would be crazy enough to come out into this blistering cold weather at seven-thirty in the evening? I mean, besides myself.

As I kept walking I noticed that whoever was coming towards me seemed to be shaking. Perhaps from the cold, but from the way his/her/its shoulders were heaving I thought that the guy/girl/enchanted inanimate object might be crying. They were walking very slowly and with seemingly no care as to which direction they went. Abruptly the figure kicked a clump of snow into the air and turned to their right. Which meant that my mystery person was walking directly out onto... the Lake!

Which was okay since everyone knew that the lake was frozen solid this winter.

Which is why it was such a shock when the figure let out a cry of surprise and fell straight through the ice.

"Oh, damn," I whispered. I looked around. No one else was near, and there was no way that anyone at the castle would be able to hear me if I tried to call for help. It was up to me to save whoever it was. I sprinted dramatically over the snow.

And tripped on a large snow-covered boulder, and fell face down in the snow. If they ever make a movie of my life, I can only hope that that's one moment that will be left out.

Shaking the snow out of my ears and rubbing the circulation back into my kneecaps, I continued more carefully over to the edge of the lake. A large gaping icy hole drew my attention to the middle of the lake.

Yet another situation in which "Oh, damn" seemed very appropriate. How on earth was I suppose to rescue someone from the very middle of a snow-covered, fathoms deep lake?

Unbidden, from somewhere deep in my mind something screamed at me, Are you mad? Are you a witch or not?

Duh.

Grasping my wand in my now-frozen fingers I clumsily pointed it in the direction of the jagged hole.

"Accio, um, drowning person," I muttered, having little idea who it was that I was saving. My numb fingers and feet were begging though that whoever it was, that they would be able to compensate me in limb re-heating surgery, since apparently all the blood in my body at been reduced to thin, plasma-filled popsicles.

With a rushing, popping noise a large wet body came hurtling out of lake, interrupting my ice-covered musings. I stepped backwards and the body fell wetly at my feet landing on its back.

"Oh, no." Had my pine cone voodoo doll worked?

God, I hate a dilemma. Ethically it wouldn't be good to not help someone who had just fell through a lake. But in order to remain in good moral standings was I to ignore the insults that my ego and heart had been subjected to early this evening?

For lying white-faced, not a single breath left in his body, clearly about to suffer from hypothermia was, you guessed it, the spawn of Satan.

Better known to the rest of the world as James The-Source-Of-All-Evil-And-Pigheadedness Potter.

I knew that if he was anyone else I would already be kneeling in the snow checking for sounds of a heartbeat. I knew that if I was anyone else I would already be administering first aid to Potter.

And I wasn't.

All of the sudden a vision of dark funeral home came into my mind. A low, somber voice was saying sadly, "Too bad he had to die. If only she had done something to save him."

With an exasperated grimace I lowered myself to my knees next to Potter. I might hate him, but I wouldn't be responsible or his death.

"James! James! Can you hear me?" I called loudly to his frozen body. No response. Ah, well. Can't really say that I'd expected him to jump up and offer my tea and scones.

Looking at Potter I realized that I had better act quickly before I had to attend his funeral. I remembered back to that book I read back in fourth year, CPR For Dummies. I needed to look for breathing. That was a negative. Definitely no breath from Mister Potter.

"Shit," I murmured. Tilting his head carefully back I gently opened his mouth. I leaned over Potter and, covering up this nose I blew carefully into his mouth. "Two breaths, fifteen compressions," I muttered to myself after two long steady breaths. I pushed down hard on Potter's chest. "And repeat," I thought as I began again to blow into Potter's mouth. If he would just start breathing again, I could magic him back up to the castle, Madam Pomfrey would care for him, I could go back to loathing him again, and everything would be just fine and dandy.

My turn, my turn!

DId you pummel Sirius?

Actually all it took was a Full-Nelson and he was down.

That's my boy. Or husband. Whatever. Go ahead. You tell a bit.

Yay...

I couldn't move. Everything was black and confusing. And I was cold, so cold. All I wanted to do was fall to sleep and never wake up. I could scarcely breath, but I could feel life rushing back into my body.

My eyelids flickered open a fraction of a centimeter. Through a haze I saw two pairs of almond-shaped green eyes very, very, very close to me.

Evans.

Lily Evans.

Who I'd made cry.

Who hated me.

Who loathed every fiber of my very being.

Who had her lips pressed very firmly down on mine.

If I hadn't been half-dead I would have screamed with joy.

As I lay motionless in shock, cold seeping through every pore in my body, my mind slipping in and out of consciousness I realized that Evans' kiss wasn't very comfortable, what with large bursts of her breath being forced down my throat.

Then I realized that she was now pressing down uncomfortably hard into my chest. Was she trying to grope me, or something? And wasn't she moving a bit fast? I mean, last time I checked, I was her mortal enemy. And technically, if I was half-dead, didn't that mean she was practicing necrophilia?

As she moved back to my face, she muttered "Come on Potter. Don't die. Don't die. That wouldn't be very bloody grateful of you."

As my frozen brain slipped back into unconsciousness I had a thought. Either Lily Evans was the creepiest and worst kisser ever, or she was saving my life.

For both our sakes, my life and her reputation, I seriously hoped it was the latter.

A/N: Ta-da! I know I said that this chapter would have more romance, and in a way it did, but this whole CPR thing came to me abruptly, and I just had to use it. So, I'm sorry if I disappointed anyone, but I really enjoyed this chapter! And I hope you did too! I would have updated sooner, but being in Canada for two weeks, having to take Summer P.E., swim team, running, and just finding time to take a breather, have consumed most of my time so far. I hope you like this chapter, and just be patient about updates as always.

Love to you all,

Sarah (Lucinda)