A/N: Er… this is where I get down on my knees and grovel at ya'll's feet. And I just actually typed 'ya'll,' because I am a shameless Southerner, and I make one-syllable word into multiple syllable words and vice-versa, thus often using the offending word, ya'll. Seriously—I say things like po-erch (porch). Also, I just couldn't think of another word to go there. I use ya'll too much.

Aaaaaaanyway, back to the groveling. Seriously, I haven't been on the computer at all. Our band directors are this side short of cracking slave whips over our heads, my horse is a masochistic idiot, my lamb's attempting to choke itself, my goat's trying to get fatter than it is tall, my physics grade just took a suicide-attempt drop from 95 to 81 'cos I totally flopped a test, my English teacher is a completely stoned hippy-Hitler in disguise, the PSAT is coming up, I've been putting off a history essay for over six weeks, I just had to get braces on freaking three of my teeth 'cos my Invisalign turned a tooth sideways, I need to work on my résumé for Leadership, I shattered a jar of maraschino cherries on my hand last night, and I almost cut my longhorn's head off in welding the other day.

So… I'm still sorry about being a shitty updater. Please spare me a little grace, and I love you!

Disclaimer: Today's Daily Dipshit Award goes to a football player from my high school. Said football player sped over a low water crossing, hydroplaned half off the road, and then decided that (with his BIG STRONG football-playing muscles) he could lift his car back up on the road. The car rolled down and completely shattered his leg, and after a week in the hospital, doctors were forced to amputate his foot.

And people wonder why I look down on football players.

Lily POV

Standing there with most of the Seventh Year Gryffindors, in front of McGonagall, wearing nothing but my bikini and a black eye, brownie batter dripping down my body, I could only think of how it had all started.

.xXx.

Chip bounded into my room, a mischievous grin on her face. I spared her a wary glance before returning to my reading. I think James was down in the Gryffindor Common Room with Sirius and Remus. Or, at least, that's where I found him later. Rather, where he found me.

"Lily, I'm bored," she complained as she flopped down on the couch next to me.

"And you've obviously found a solution, or you wouldn't be grinning like the Cheshire cat," I retorted. "And whatever it is that you want to do, the answer is no."

"Liiiiiiiiily," she whined. "Come on. When's the last time you spent some good-old quality time with your bestest best friend?"

I rolled my eyes. "Chip, we spend quality time with each other every day. James was complaining about it just last night, remember?"

"Please?" Chip used the puppy dog eyes. Dammit.

I sighed and set my book aside. "What is it that you want to do?"

She yipped with glee and grinned. "Go put your bikini on." Still wary, I did as she requested, throwing a robe over it. Then she grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my Common Room and down several Hogwarts halls until we reached the Tower. And in the Common Room, several people were standing confusedly around an overly-large child's blow-up pool. I mean, the thing was bloody huge—it took up most of the free space in the room.

And it was filled with mud.

"No way," I said instantly. "Chip, I am not mud-wrestling!"

Now she grinned smugly. "But Lils, it's not mud."

Oh god. Only one thing could look that much like mud, and not be mud. "Chipper Poseidon, is that—"

"Brownie batter," she affirmed with another flash of her Cheshire grin. "Now what do you say?"

.xXx.

I can honestly say that the next thing I remember is wrestling with Chip and three other girls in that enormous vat of warm brownie batter. I'm not even joking. It was warm. Naturally, we had gathered a large crowd of sex-crazed boys who were shouting, cat-calling, taking bets, and drinking Butterbeers.

The most pathetic part is that it was fun. Like, really, really fun.

I grabbed Chip around the shoulders and threw her on her back in the batter, tackling her and trying to hold her down. Another girl grabbed me and pulled me up, flipping me over and trying the same maneuver with me. I shook my tangled, disgusting hair out of my face and knocked her legs out from under her. Chip jumped on my back, and I whirled around, trying to dislodge her, accidentally coming in contact with the fist of the girl who was trying to pull Chip off of me.

Hence the later black eye.

After a long time of this lovely sport, a totally shocked cry froze me in my tracks.

And now to James… who has never been more shocked in his life. And that includes the first time he kissed Lily Evans and everything.

So… imagine my surprise. I walk down the boys' stairs, having gone to visit Padfoot and Moony, and I hear shouting and chanting. And… squelching. So, I push through this enthusiastic—male—crowd, only to find my girlfriend mud wrestling. Mud wrestling. In the Gryffindor Common Room.

"LILY?"

Back to Lillers! (momentary disgust at self and poor name-calling)

The worst part… was that I didn't care. I didn't care that James Potter, my adoring and adorable boyfriend, Head Boy, the Marauder, had just found me brownie-batter-wrestling with Chip and a few other Gryffindor girls. I didn't care about what he was going to think. I didn't care that his eyes were about to bulge out of his head.

I didn't even care that he was probably going to have a-mazing dreams about this for the rest of his life.

It was all too easy to read the expression on his face. Seriously, I can't blame him. It was mirrored almost perfectly on the face of every other male in the Common Room, the only difference being that this was James Potter.

"James," I replied, too levelly. I smirked at him.

With that, he fairly launched himself across the Common Room at me, and we slipped in the batter, falling into the pool of it, snogging wildly. Naturally, there were tons of catcalls and innumerable flashes of pictures, but I wasn't to be distracted by them, too concentrated on snogging the living daylights out of my boyfriend.

My brownie batter-covered boyfriend.

Unsurprisingly, there were several thick splashes around us as others followed our bad example. Seriously, what kind of role model am I? First I plaster my name on the Head Boy's arse, now this.

But really, you know it's like the hottest thing ever.

I don't even know who started the music, or when Chip disappeared with Sirius, Wood, and that girl from, like, a year ago—actually, I don't even want to think about that one—or who added the whipped cream. I did realize, however, that the batter stayed warm, and that James tasted more delicious than ever, all covered with it and everything, and that his hair was spectacularly wild. He wasn't wearing his glasses, which was good, otherwise they might have been coated beyond all magical repair.

I don't know how long we all snogged in that damned pool of warm brownie batter-slash-whipped cream. All I know is that my lips were spectacularly kiss-swollen and James' bottom lip was ridiculously bruised by the time we all heard the one thing that could freeze our pulses like nothing else.

McGonagall.

Angry McGonagall.

Angry McGonagall standing right there.

Seeing us all.

Covered in brownie batter and whipped cream.

Some of us in our bikinis.

All of us snogging each other.

The walls of that Common Room have never heard such an impressive lecture in all their long years, I swear to Merlin.

James P-P-P-Potter!

Dear lord, I'm afraid we might have scarred McGonagall irrevocably. Poor woman. But screw that, I got to snog Lily Evans in a pool of warm brownie batter, wearing just her bikini. Her, not me. I was wearing clothes. Like a normal person. But that's not important.

Good god, I love dating that girl, and I'm going to marry her. Sooner rather than later.

Now I've got to go wash this damn batter out of my hair.

Lily Everlands!

I swear, I am never going to get all of this goddamn brownie batter out of my bik—oh dear lord, I'm a witch. Why do I never remember this in practical moments? Seriously, this is just freaking ridiculous! Well, now that I've got it out of my bikini, I should probably try to get it out of my hair. Which is also going to take freaking forev—oh dear lord! I'm a witch! I AM A WITCH! I AM A FARKING WITCH!

I think I need a valium.

On the brighter side of things… um… ah… I'm dating James Potter?

What's really funny about that is if you tried to put that sentence together a few years ago, to make it "brighter," you'd have to replace "dating" with "killing." Well, I'd say things have taken a turn for the better, don't you think? Me and James, coexisting lovingly in a… oh god, he's sucking my brains out! I JUST MADE A GRAMMATICAL ERROR! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

With this horrific realization, I shut off the water to the shower, wrapped a towel around myself, and flung open the door to my room. Only to scream, backtrack, slam the door again, fling open the other bathroom door, which opened to James' room, and stumble in there. James jumped to his feet, startled, then looked at my lovely attire, confused.

"Lily?"

I blushed, clutching my towel more firmly around myself. "Chip and Black are SHAGGING ON MY BED!"

He gaped at me. "They're not!"

"Trust me," I assured him darkly. "They most definitely are."

James shuddered. "Damn. I would say I'm sorry, but…"

"But because of them, I'm standing in your room wearing a towel and soaking wet, I know. So, ah, wanna help a girl out, here?" He looked at me blankly. "You know, clothes?"

He looked completely torn for a moment. No, he didn't want to give me clothes, because, face it, it was totally to his benefit to have me wearing just a towel. However, he's also a gentleman, and he knows I'd hex it out of him. "Hold on." He fished a pair of drawstring pajama bottoms and a hoody out of his closet and tossed them to me.

"Turn around," I ordered with a smirk.

"But Liiils," he protested with a grin, even as he turned around. I laughed as I changed.

"Okay, Romeo, you can turn around," I said, using to towel to semi dry my hair. Then I just dried it with my wand. I know what you're thinking. 'Um, if she's got a wand, why doesn't she just freaking ACCIO her clothes?' Well dearie, my clothes can't fly through walls now, can they? Nope, and I don't really want any doors opening. I've seen enough shagging for one night, thank you.

"Aw, I missed the fun part," James whined.

"Shut up." I smacked his shoulder and kissed him before he could complain about it.

"I think that's extortion," he mused idly, playing with my hair.

"Nope. It's coercion. Extortion is this: I'll snog you for an hour right here, right now, if you promise to slip something really nasty into Sirius' bed tonight."

"Isn't that blackmail?"

"Wrong again. Blackmail is this: You will slip something really nasty into Sirius' bed tonight or I'll tell the entire school that your pajama bottoms have puffskeins on them."

He contemplated the offending garment—or my arse, it's hard to tell which—for a moment. "I think I'll go with the extortion. I suppose since it is extortion, you get the point for it?"

"Bingo."

"All right. Then I demand my payment now."

I only had the chance to laugh briefly. Very briefly.

PotteryLottery (Oh dear lord, I need to work on those)

Extortion is hot. That's all I have to say, folks. H. O. T.

A/N: Urgh—I know it's short. It would be longer, but I had a /er/ minor setback that had to do with using laughing gas for the first time in my life to have a cavity filled. Ah, let's just say it'll never happen again. But I love you guys, even if my posting habits make that seem questionable at times.

FM