Much to me and Marlene's dismay, Alice has decided that she wants us to go to Hogsmeade with the Marauders for the next Hogsmeade trip.

"I don't want to be anywhere near Peter," Marlene groans.

"Yeah, why the sudden interest in the Marauders?" I ask Alice. "Aren't you just going to end up hanging out with Frank, anyway?"

"Frank is staying at the castle to study for N.E.W.T.s," Alice explains. "What a nerd, am I right?"

And so, at exactly 10 AM, Alice, Marlene, and I troop downstairs to the entrance hall, where we meet up with James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

The morning starts out fine. The boys drag us to Zonko's, which is not actually as boring as I thought it would be. Alice buys a giant vat of love potion, for some reason. As if we didn't just brew an endless supply of the stuff in Potions class yesterday.

"That makes no sense," Marlene tells her. "You already have a boyfriend who loves you. What do you need love potion for?"

Alice shrugs. "Might come in handy, someday," she says with a wink. "Frank and I like to… experiment. We have fun, you know?"

I struggle not to gag. I cannot believe Alice is using love potion as a sex toy.

The boys meet us as the exit, arms overflowing with shopping bags.

"Help me out, Evans, will you?" James asks, thrusting a bag into my arms. I roll my eyes.

"You're lucky I like you."

Sirius snickers, and I look over at him.

"What?"

But Sirius just shakes his head. "Nothing," he says, grinning.

James, for some reason, is burning red. "Shut it, Padfoot."

All at once, I realize what's happening. "Oh!" I exclaim. "Oh, I didn't mean- I didn't mean that I like liked him- I just-" Sirius is laughing maniacally now. I narrow my eyes at the idiot. "Dorcas Meadowes is a newsmonger!" I finally exclaim with anger.

Now, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Alice have all exploded into peals of giggles. I cross my arms angrily over my chest, and James puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Ignore them," he says softly. "Our friends are losers."

I snort. "You don't have to tell me twice."

James and I decide to ditch the morons and head off on our own. As we walk down High Street together, however, I don't feel any better.

"Everyone is looking at us," I tell James. He looks slightly uncomfortable.

"Yeah, I know," he tells me. Then, he stops walking. "I'm sorry. It's my fault."

What? "No, it isn't," I tell him. "If it's anyone's fault, it's mine. Actually, it's Dorcas Meadowes' fault, if we're being technical."

But James just shakes his head. "No. People have had eyes on us for years. Don't you remember all those times I used to ask you out, in fourth and fifth year?"

Of course I remember. How could I forget?

"The student body is obsessed with us," James explains. "It's no wonder they're so excited that you fancy me. I mean-" he corrects himself, "that you supposedly fancy me."

I shove my hands into my pockets angrily. "The student body is made up of buffoons," I mutter.

"I know," James says, cracking a smile. We start walking again down the street. "You've just got to learn not to let them get to you, Evans. Although…"

He stops talking to hold the door to The Three Broomsticks open for me.

"Although what?" I ask once we get inside.

"Well, I suppose we shouldn't really be surprised," James says, throwing a hand up to his hair. "We hang out all the time. Like right now, for instance. And we live together."

I groan. "That's exactly what Marlene said, too. Maybe we should be a couple."

James swallows, and for a second the look on his face is unrecognizable. Then, he shakes out of it. "Yeah. Maybe."

He stands up pretty quickly to go get us drinks.

Hm.

What was that?

As I watch him talk to Rosmerta, the bartender, I suddenly become aware of a slightly fluttery sensation in the pit of my stomach.

…

What is that?

But before I have time to ponder it much longer, James returns with two Butterbeers. I take one gratefully, set it down onto the table, and reach into my bag.

"How much do I owe you?"

But James just shakes his head. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

I whip my head back to stare at him. He stares back.

James has never paid for my drink before.

"You're being weird," I tell him straight-up. He laughs out loud.

"I get that a lot." Then, he pushes my drink towards me. "Go on. It's going to get cold."

I eye him suspiciously as I grab my drink and bring it up to my lips. He does the same.

Damn it. I'm looking at his lips again.

My mind flashes back to the kiss, and my stomach does that annoying jolt again.

And that's when I realize…

I gasp, and James spits his drink out.

"What?" he demands. "Are you okay?"

No, James. No, I am not okay, because I've just realized that there's a small chance that I may or may not have a tiny massive crush on you.

"Yeah," I assure him, nodding furiously. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was just- it was just hot. The drink, I mean. It burned my tongue." My hands are shaking wildly, so I hide them under the table. I hope, desperately, that James believes me.

He seems very suspicious. Then, finally and miraculously, he nods.

"Oh. Okay." He picks up his own drink again. "Sorry."

"No problem," I say.

But I'm lying. There is a problem. A huge, HUGE problem.

I fancy James Potter.

Oh, God.

I think I'm going to be sick.