A/N: Well, I got back home earlier than planned due to bad weather, so here's the next chapter. I was too tired to proofread it like I usually do, so I apolagize in advance for all the mistakes I'm sure I've made. Also a big thanks to all my lovely reviewers- I now have over 100 reviews, and you have no idea how good that feels. A special shout out to Mel () who just recently reviewed every chapter of my story and completely made my day. You're awesome- I'd thank you in a review reply- but annonymous reviews don't have email adresses obviously. So without further ado- I give you plan T.

Plan T: Hogesmede

We walked briskly away from the castle in relative silence. At one point he tried to grab my hand, but I tugged it out of his reach. "Woah. We're not on a date. Don't touch me."

He put up his hands in defeat, "Ok. ok. Sorry. I'm just kind of surprised you even agreed to go with me in the first place."

"Oh well, you know…. The weather has been so nice lately, I just wanted to get out of the castle for a little while."

He nodded, "Me too. I'm glad I could go with you. Sirius is in detention, Peter has remedial potions, and Remus is sick as a….sick as a-"

"Werewolf?" I put in sarcastically.

"Yup." He grinned. "So where do you wanna go first?"

I looked up in surprise to find that we had already reached our destination. Wow, that was fast.

"Ummm. I dunno. Wherever you want to go, I guess." Was all I said.

"Wanna go to Zonko's?" He asked excitedly.

"Yeah sure."

He looked surprised, "I wouldn't have pegged you for a joke shop kind of girl."

I shrugged. "Me and Mary come in here sometimes. Alice isn't too into it."

We walked inside. It was already packed with Hogwarts students so we went over to a relatively unpacked corner of the room. I scanned the shelves, and my eyes came to rest on a small blue jar with bright magenta writing. "Trick breath mints," I read aloud, "Comes in three separate stenches: dragon breath, dragon dung and dragon-"

"You might not want to read that." James said.

I looked over, he was rifling through a bin labeled: Unstable. 50 off. "We tried those on Peter one time. Just stinkpellets and they all smell exactly the same."

"Why in the world would you want to smell-"

"Excellent! Trick mirrors and 24 hour permanent pimples!"

"What exactly-"

Potter cut me off again. "Ask no questions and you will receive no lies."

On second thought, maybe I didn't want to know.

/-o0o-/

The next shop we visited was Honeydukes, where I bought a few sugar quills and a lollipop, and Potter bought a stack of cockroach clusters and some Bertie Botts every flavor beans.

"What are you going to do with the quill, suck it in class?" he asked skeptically as we left.

"I could ask you the same question." I said, eying his bag of cockroach clusters, "And if you must know, I do use sugar quills in class, I find it increases attention span, especially in History."

"So that's how you stay awake." He said sarcastically.

"Actually Potter, if you would just listen to Binns once in a while, you might actually learn something interesting. I myself, find his lectures to be mildly captivating."

"You have got to be kidding me." He said, a look of disgust on his face.

"Ok. They're boring as hell. At least I try to listen. Unlike some people," I glanced meaningfully at Potter, "Who just leech off their friends all the time-"

"I do not. I listen to like the first five minutes, that's got to count for something!"

I shook my head, smiling, "Potter, Potter Potter."

He waggled an eyebrow, "Lily, Lily, Lily. Why do you have to be so perfect all the time anyways?"

I looked at him scornfully, "I do not."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Do too. You practically flipped out over that detention."

"So? It was my first one."

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"You do too!" He stuck his tongue out in my face and I laughed.

"You're so immature James!"

"I'm immature!? You're the one who started this!"

"I did not!"

"Did too!"

/-o0o-/

We were sitting on a rock a ways away from the shrieking shack. Lily's idea, not mine. Merlin knows I've been to that place enough times.

"I wonder why everyone's so afraid of this place?" asked Lily, "It doesn't look so scary to me."

"It's not." I said quickly, without thinking. Stupid, stupid Prongs.

She looked up sharply. "How do you know?" she asked sternly.

"Er- me and Sirius broke in one time. It was just an old abandoned building."

"Oh." She said, "How?"

"How? Uhhh… We just found a loose board and pried it off and climbed into the window. That's how."

"Ok." She said simply.

I figured it was time to steer our conversation out of these dangerous waters. "So I know," I said, "Lets play twenty questions."

She looked skeptical. "Nothing inappropriate or anything." I said hurriedly, "Just simple things like- oh I'll go first and show you. What's your favorite color?"

"Orange." She said simply.

"Why orange?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's different. Bright, cheery." She seemed to ponder this for a moment, "Ok Potter. I'll play. What's your favorite color?"

"Green." I said automatically. "Emerald actually."

"Why?"

"Hey that's another question. You have to wait until your next turn to ask that." I said quickly. I didn't want to admit to Lily that the reason my favorite color was emerald was because that was the color of her eyes.

"Hey, I told you why." She said, emerald eyes flashing in light of her perceived challenge.

"Well starting now, no follow-up questions until the next turn."

"That's not fair!"

"Do you really care anyways?" I asked, trying once more to escape answering.

"Well not initially no, but since you started getting all defensive, I do now."

"Because that's the color of your eyes." I mumbled to the ground, "They're so beautiful and every time I see that color I think of you."

"Oh." Was all Lily said. I looked up at her and she opened her mouth as if to speak, but then closed it again.

Sensing her discomfort, I quickly asked my next question, "Who's your favorite artist?"

"I don't know many. Picasso I guess."

I smiled, "No, not painter. I mean artist as in singer."

"Oh," she said, her cheeks flaring up a bit, "Well then I'd have to say Natasha Bedingfield."

"Cool." I said, "Your turn."

"Hmmmmm… What's your favorite animal?"

"A deer. What's your favorite er- class?"

"Potions." She said.

"That's just because Slughorn likes you."

She looked indignant. "Is not."

"Is too. You're so his favorite."

"I am not!"

I shot her a lopsided grin, "Are too. I wouldn't be surprised if he popped the question any day now."

"Potter that's disgusting! And besides I don't like potions because Slughorn likes me. I just like hands on activities."

"You do, do you?" I teased provocatively.

She started and glared at me. In a moment realization of what I had just said hit me, "Sorry, that came out wrong."

"I'll say." She said, then quickly changed the subject, "So, what's your favorite quidditch team?"

"Tornadoes. What's your favorite season?"

"Spring." She answered.

"Oh, 'cause it's exam time."

"No. Because the weather is nice, and I don't have to deal with my pain in the ass sister."

"Oh." Was all I said to that. "She a muggle?"

"Yup. What's your favorite song?" she asked.

I had to think about that for a second. I didn't really have one. But when I looked at Lily, for some reason one song in particular jumped out at me, "It's Not My Time, by 3 Doors Down." I said automatically.

"Oh…" she seemed to ponder this. "I suppose you identify with the lyrics."

"Yeah…" I said, shooting her a lopsided smile, "It's about a poor bloke who's madly in love with a girl, but she keeps pushing him away even though he is increasingly persistent. Sound familiar Lily?"

To my surprise, she looked at the ground and blushed.

I shifted uncomfortably on the rock. "So Lily, what's your favorite song?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "A moment like this." She said simply.

"The Kelly Clarkson one, or the Leona Lewis version?"

She shrugged. "I don't care, they're both the same. I just like the lyrics, it's really a very beautiful song."

She bit her lip and fiddled with a loose strand of hair in thought. "So, uh- who's your favorite teacher?"

I thought about that one for a bit. "I guess I'd have to say Mcgonagall."

She snorted. "Really? She's given you more detentions than all the other teachers combined."

I shrugged. "I know. And I know she acts all strict and perfect, but underneath she's just a badass with plenty of Gryffindor team spirit."

Again, Lily snorted.

"I'm serious," I said, "Before our game against Hufflepuff, she didn't give me detention once, even though me and Sirius trashed a chandelier and exploded an imploding cabinet."

"How did you manage that?" She asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"Not the point." I said, "The point is, she let me off on that just so I could schedule practice every day that week."

"And did you?"

"Well actually, Padfoot and I took a joyride on Filches mop-carrier, so we both ended up in the hospital wing for a few days-"

I snorted at the look of outrage on Lily's face. "But we still won. Don't worry."

She rolled her eyes. "As if I would ever worry about you Potter."

"And what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?"

She sighed and stood up, "I think you know what it means. Now lets go, it's kind of chilly up here."

I stood up too. "Three Broomsticks?"

She smiled at me, "Sounds good."

/-o0o-/

"Well this is…this is kind of nice Potter." I began awkwardly as we took a seat at one of the corner booths in the Three Broomsticks.

"Yeah." He said, "Just us, together in Hogesmede-"

"As friends." I cut across quickly.

"Yes, as friends." He repeated. "So, should I go get the drinks?"

"Yeah sure. Here's three sickles, get me a butterbeer." I tried to hand the sickles to him, but he wouldn't take them.

"No Lily. This is my treat." He said stubbornly.

"What? Just because I'm a girl, you have to go and be all alpha male on me! If you came here with Sirius you'd make him pay up. If you came with Peter you would too. And Remus-"

"I wouldn't make Remus pay." James cut in.

"Right. Bad example. I'm still paying, here." I shoved the coins into his palm, and that was that.

There was a bit of a line up at the counter so I sat down at the booth to wait. Presently, a small blonde woman with horned rimmed glasses and a large purse walked in. (Her purse looked like it was made of some kind of reptile skin.) She was talking to a rather large man with a bushy mustache and camera bag. She flicked her hand lazily towards the bar, "Get me a firewhisky." She snapped at him.

He quickly scurried up to the counter without even putting his camera bag down. In fact, it seemed to help him to push thru the crowd of smaller students.

The woman scanned the room as if looking for an empty table. I don't think there were any. Her eyes came to rest on me. Unfortunately, at the time I was sitting alone. She walked over towards me.

She had a silly looking fake grin on her face. It made her lip curl in a most unpleasant way. "Hello girl." She said as soon as she neared me.

I looked up at her, not quite sure what to say. She didn't wait for me to speak. "I see you're sitting alone. Why don't you go find some friends and sit with them? I need this table right now."

I looked at her incredulously. She couldn't be serious. I'd met plenty of rude people in my life, after all, I went to school with Potter, but this was pushing it. "Actually I'm not alone. My friend just went to go buy drinks." I said pointedly.

"Oh." She said, her grin slipping a bit. "Well then, I'll just sit here till they get back. To keep you company, you know."

She proceeded to pull out a chair and sit down. I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. We just stared at each other for a few moments. I had half a mind to ask her who the hell did she think she was and to please leave, but I refrained. Best not to make a scene.

"You really don't know who I am, do you?" she asked in a bright, falsely cheery voice.

"No I don't." I said simply.

"Well I'm Rita Skeeter. Nice to meet you."

I noticed she didn't ask my name so I didn't give it to her. I kept my mouth shut, yet again.

I think she was hoping for some kind of a reaction from me. "Rita Skeeter." She reiterated slowly, "I write for the daily profit. Surely you've heard of me. I just wrote a rather groundbreaking cover page article on St. Mungo's."

Something clicked in the back of my mind. I had heard that name before. "Oh, you mean the one where you accused all the healers there of theft against the ministry."

She paled a bit. "Yes that's it. Though I can assure you that they are requiring funding for their latest escapades that are completely unreasonable-"

"Oh, well excuse me if finding a cure for spattergroit is unreasonable!" I cried, angry now.

A few heads near us turned and began listening in on our conversation.

"Well of course it's admirable enough," She said, still putting on the charade of polite conversation in her sickly sweet voice, "But they've been attempting to do it for centuries and they're no farther now than they were in Medeival times-"

"Because they don't have sufficient funding-"

She cut across me rather harshly, "Well that's hardly the ministry's problem. They should just charge their patients more-"

"St. Mungo's is a profit free organization-"

"And that's why they have to leech off the ministry! They shouldn't ask for money if they're just going to fritter it away on some silly cure that doesn't exist."

"It doesn't exist now, but it will!"

"What do you know?" she asked harshly.

"My mother died from spattergroit!" I all but screamed, by now we had captured the attention of about half the pub. I saw James hurriedly picking up our drinks and making winding his way towards us.

"Oh. Well I'm so sorry for your loss girl." She said, fake pouting and putting a hand on my shoulder. "It's ok. I understand."

I jerked away from her. "Don't touch me!" I spat.

"It's alright girl. I just want to help you. Why don't you tell me about your mom, what was she like? Charming? Witty? Kindhearted? Bruno, will you come here darling? Take a picture of me with this poor girl, will you? Her mother's died, poor dear." She pulled out a pad of paper and gestured towards her camera man. He abandoned the drinks and made his way over to us, just as James reached our table.

"What's going on here?" he asked, seeing me glaring at Rita, and she dabbing fake tears with her handkerchief.

However, when she saw James, her pathetically tragic look faded. She smiled jubilantly. "James Potter!" she said excitedly.

James looked surprised. "Do I know you?" he asked politely.

"Yes… Well no. But I'm Rita Skeeter."

James's face looked as blank as mine had, but she ignored it. "I follow the up and coming quidditch stars. You captained your team to victory this year, is that right?"

"Well yes but-"

"And how did it feel James? Satisfactory, Conclusionary? Emotional?"

He looked at her puzzled. "James and I were just leaving." I said, rather rudely, tugging him towards the exit.

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait!" She cried, grabbing a hold of James's arm, "Can't you two just stay for one tiny little interview?" She asked pleadingly.

It only took James one look at my face to see that I wanted to get out of there. "Sorry ma'am. We have to go now."

He tried to tug out of her grip, but winded up spilling a bit of his drink on her abnormally large pocketbook. As the butterbeer hit the lizard skin, it began to sizzle, and we watched in horror as the liquid somehow managed to burn a hole in the expensive looking material.

Rita shrieked when she saw what had happened to her bag and started digging into James's arm very hard with her claw like nails. I grabbed his arm too, and helped tug him out of her reach, before we both made a beeline for the door.

We got outside and headed down a few side streets to be sure she couldn't find us again. Even a few streets away, we could still hear her wailing miserably about her precious Brazilian imported pocketbook. As soon as we where sure we were out of hearing distance, we cracked up. I'm not sure what was so funny about any of that, but at the time it all just seemed hysterically hilarious, and I felt as though my sides might split open from laughing so hard.

Unfortunately, we didn't know it then, but we had just made a very dangerous enemy.

A/N: Dun dun dun... And the plot thickens. Hopefully this chapter didn't disapoint, but even if it did, I have a feeling you're going to like the next chap. I haven't written it yet, but when I do I'll be sure to post it first chance I get. Take a second to leave a review if you want to make me smile.