Disclaimer: THEM? Belong to ME? *siiigh* Yeah right. It's all J.K. Rowling's.



A/N: Thanks a zillion to Lana Potter, Sineadlove, Twix, Cat, PepsiAngel, QuizzicalSphinx, Alex, Steph, Caspian58, Kaylin, Orpheliac, The Hermione Granger Fan Club, and Rachel...you guys are all the best! I'm glad you thought the last chapter was so funny, and I hope you all enjoy this one just as much! Keep reading and reviewing, you awesome peoples :)



Chapter Two: Could Things Get Any Worse?



Lily eyed James nervously as they drove towards the Evans home...he was looking rather green. She'd had no idea that her own father could have that effect on anyone-he wouldn't hurt a fly!

She looked over at her father, who sat next to her in the driver's seat. He'd insisted upon having Lily sit next to him so she could tell him about the school year. James, who was sitting next to Petunia, looked as though he were about to either throw up or pass out. Petunia, in turn, was eyeing him with an expression that mixed suspicion and pure terror.

Probably convinced he'll hex her at the first given opportunity, Lily thought dryly.

"So, honey, glad to be back?" Mr. Evans asked as an attempt to start up conversation.

"Yeah," Lily said, turning around after giving James a reassuring smile. "It's nice."

"And James," Mr. Evans continued, his voice adapting a gruff tone. He reminded Lily of a poodle trying to act ferocious.

And not succeeding well.

But it seemed to have an effect on James...Lily observed in the rearview mirror that his skin turned even greener.

Mr. Evans continued, "I hope you'll enjoy the visit. Don't do anything I'll have to kill you for."

Her father added an unconvincing laugh, and James, who looked absolutely terrified, opened his mouth to reply.

However, his breakfast came out (all over Petunia, no less) instead of words.

Petunia immediately began to scream at the top of her lungs in disgust while Mr. Evans cursed about ruining the new family car. Meanwhile, Mrs. Evans was looking how Lily felt-a bit on the green side, herself, and they both rushed to roll down their car windows.

Mr. Evans had turned around, torn between yelling at James and trying to console Petunia, seeing as he was the only one who had the tiniest bit of a shot at calming her down when she had her little fits.

James, who looked as though he wouldn't mind dropping dead then and there, muttered, "Sorry..."

"Oh, sweetie, are you okay?" Lily asked, focusing intently on his forehead so she wouldn't have to see the cornflakes he'd eaten for breakfast.

"Yeah," James said, then put a hand to his ear as Petunia let out an unnaturally loud, shrill scream. Mr. Evans had now forgotten about the fact he was driving, and was instead trying desperately to calm down her hysterical sister.

"Daddy," Lily said weakly. "Maybe you should watch the road-"

"Not right now, Lily!" Mr. Evans snapped, not taking his eyes off of Petunia.

"But Daddy-"

CRASH.

Everyone in the car joined Petunia in her little screeching fest as the car slammed headfirst into a speed limit sign.

~*~



"That was my fault, wasn't it?" James whispered miserably to Lily as they carried their suitcases into the Evans house. He could still vaguely hear Petunia whimpering from the bathroom, where she'd run full-speed to get into the shower.

"Listen, James, stop worrying," Lily said softly. "It's all right, the police didn't stop us or anything, and it was just a little scratch on the front of the car-"

"Your father was CRYING," James interrupted.

"Okay, so it was a big scratch," Lily said with a shrug.

"Try a DENT," James said dryly.

"Okay, a dent," Lily sounded a bit annoyed. Normally, James knew better than to get her annoyed, but it wouldn't really matter now-everything was going so awfully already...why not get his girlfriend mad at him too? "But it wasn't your fault, Daddy wasn't watching where he was driving-"

"Oh, so my need to show off my half-way digested breakfast had absolutely nothing to do with it?" James snapped as he studied the Evans' home. It was nice...much smaller than his own, which he supposed could be classified as a mansion. But he didn't like his house much...it was too big and empty-feeling. The Evans's house, on the other hand, projected a cozy, comfortable feeling.

"Okay, it was your fault," Lily finally lost it...James had seen it coming. "It was totally, completely, one hundred percent your fault! There, happy?"

"Not particularly," James replied, giving her a teasing smile.

Lily elbowed him lightly in the stomach. "Oh, shut up."

"I-"

He was cut off by a very distraught looking Mr. Evans, who stumbled into the house and past them, then up the stairs. Mrs. Evans, who had entered with her husband, was staring worriedly at him until he disappeared from sight. She then fixed a smile on her face that was, without a doubt, fake, and said, "Well, James, I hope you enjoy your stay here...maybe you should rest if you're not feeling well."

"I'm feeling better now, thanks," James said, then congratulated himself on stringing together a sentence. Sure, it wasn't brilliant, but it made sense, and that counted for something, right?

"Well, I'll show you to your room," Mrs. Evans said. Her unnaturally bright smile was beginning to get a bit frightening...

"Okay," James agreed weakly. Mrs. Evans led him upstairs, and James studied the pictures on the walls as he trailed behind her. There were many of Lily and Petunia, and in all of them Lily wore a happy smile while Petunia pouted. James couldn't help smiling, and he wondered briefly if he'd ever have any mini-Lilys...

What are you doing? He asked himself after a minute. Thinking about the future? Sirius would be laughing his head off right now. And probably asking to be the best man at our wedding. Again.

"Here it is," Mrs. Evans announced, swinging open a door to reveal the guest bedroom. It was a fair size, but very...white. The walls, the bedspread, the curtains, the carpet-all a blinding shade of white. James squinted, trying to prevent the headache that would undoubtedly result from staying in this room too long.

"Sorry it's so bright," Mrs. Evans apologized. "My brother, Michael, stayed with us for a while...he's a bit eccentric-always wore sunglasses, even inside, so we decided to keep his room bright."

"Oh," James said weakly, not able to come up with anything more intelligent.

"Well," Mrs. Evans said, her ultra-bright smile (which matched quite nicely with the room) returning. "Why don't you just get yourself settled in?"

"All right," James agreed.

"Good bye for now, dear," Mrs. Evans said, still grinning broadly as she turned around and left, shutting the door behind her.

"Bye," James echoed weakly. He unzipped his suitcase and began to shove his clothes randomly into different drawers. Laughing to himself, he thought about how horrified Lily would be if she saw his method of unpacking-she was by far the biggest neat-freak he knew.

And naturally, he loved her for it.

"Speak of the devil," he muttered to himself as the door swung open to reveal his girlfriend.

"Hey you," she greeted him, walking over to the bed and taking a seat.

"Hey you," James echoed, planting a kiss on her cheek.

She studied the opened dresser drawers for a second, then groaned in disgust.

"HONESTLY, James, is it so difficult to unpack NEATLY?" Lily asked in exasperation.

"HONESTLY, Lily, is it SO hard to accept the fact that some people might have a different definition of 'neatly'?" James asked, doing a frighteningly accurate impression of her.

"Oh, shut up," she said laughingly, taking one of the pillows from the head of the bed and hugging it.

"I-"

James was interrupted by a horrified screech coming from downstairs.

"Petunia," Lily immediately concluded as she grabbed James's hand and rushed out of the room and down into the living room, where the shrieks were coming from.

James couldn't help but laugh at the sight-Petunia was standing in only a towel in the living room, screaming at the three figures that had just emerged from the fireplace.

"Where's Jamesie?" an all-too-familiar voice asked.

"He'd better be grateful," another voice added. "I hate traveling by floo powder."

"Oh Ja-ames?" a third voice added.

"Oh no," James muttered under his breath.

It was THEM.

The Marauders were at the Evans house.