Six – Police to No 10! . . .
Urgh, thought Lily. What a hideously exhausting week.
Apart from Monday, James had dragged her down to the Quidditch Pitch every single afternoon after lessons and put her through various drills that she would have refused to do under any other circumstances, (the present ones incorporating her thirst to carry out that well known song lyric: 'Anything you can do, I can do better'.)
Unfortunately, the things James could do turned out to be quite difficult, and he had been doing them for a lot longer too, so at the end of each day, when she sank into her pillows, Lily felt the soundtrack to her life was now the aptly named song: It's Been a Hard Day's Night.
Now, on a Friday evening, she was lying on one of the sofas in the hallway of the Heads' Dorm, in her pyjamas, with the book she had been reading making a tent over her face. How she would love to just drop off here and now . . .
The only thing that did any dropping off was her book though, because at that moment, the door banged open and the Head Boy strode in, looking as stressed as Lily was tired. As An Expert's Guide to Decorative Charms toppled onto the floor, James took the stairs to his dorm three at a time and ran the fingers of both his hands through his hair. The problem with being messy by nature was that you were also often losing important things by nature. Aha! Now he remembered!
He riffled about in one of the drawers of his desk and found what he was looking for. But there was no space to work here, he grabbed some ink and a quill and darted down the stairs again, frowning as he slid onto his knees and slapped the parchment he'd located onto the coffee table.
"Who poured potion in your pumpkin juice?" asked Lily sleepily, and James only just noticed she was there. Instantly, his mood lifted, and he smiled faintly.
"It's nothing," he said. "You look tired, take a nap."
"Don't you shrug me off, Potter," she said indignantly, "I asked what the matter was and I want to know what the matter is."
"If I remember correctly you asked who poured potion in my pumpkin juice," James grinned, teasing. "And I'm fairly certain when I say that no one ever gets into my pumpkin juice. Why do you want to know anyway? You look like you would rather be tucked up in bed with a hot water bottle."
He looked down at his parchment and frowned again, so he didn't notice that he had caught her off guard. Indeed, Lily was asking herself why she wanted to know. It couldn't be because she was looking for a way to help him, to take that aberrant frown off his face, where a lopsided grin rightly belonged . . . no, she was just curious, that would be it.
"I just do, OK?" she argued, "because when that usual cocky grin has left your face, then I know something serious must have happened . . . possibly the assassination of the Prime Minister." James chuckled.
"If I tell you, will you promise to go upstairs and lie down?"
"If it means that much to you," answered Lily in a voice that clearly said she thought him a bit strange.
"It does," James said honestly, not looking up. Again, he had caught her off guard! If they had been in a duel, she would have been looking around for a competent second by now.
"So what's got you all riled up, then?" she asked, distracting herself from the sickly sweet feeling in her stomach by reaching down to pick up her book.
"Snape's been to the hospital wing, complaining of a twinge in his knee, apparently from when I dropped him onto the floor on Monday."
"How would that not make you happy?" asked Lily, confused.
"He's convinced Madam Pomfrey to give him enough reason to miss his first Quidditch match next month, against us. So now, I have to change our entire training programme to fit the Hufflepuffs instead, they have a completely different style of playing."
Lily frowned. It was such a strange sight to behold: James's tall form bent over a piece of parchment, brow knit slightly as he drew the strangest signs and symbols and scribbled little notes around the edges. Firstly, because he just didn't seem to fit the job description of writing something, his shoulders were too broad, his limbs were too long and his eyes were too playful to be hooded on work, secondly because . . . this was James Potter, who never actually concentrated for more than an average of six seconds on anything!
Maybe Lily's eyes were playing tricks on her, and the image of James Potter working was merely an illusion. Maybe she was more exhausted than she thought.
As he scribbled, she pulled the rest of his pile of work towards her, and rolled over onto her back again, examining the pages full of his tall, spidery handwriting. Crickey, this was . . . confusing. The contents of the pages were overflowing with phrases she didn't understand, like 'Porskoff Ploy' and 'Dopplebeater Defence'. There were also a number of intricate diagrams that would have probably taken Lily a whole hour to decipher, yet James was putting them together like he was writing fluently in another language.
She laid the pages back on the coffee table carefully and regarded him for a moment.
"You really do know what you're talking about, don't you?" she said. James smiled and looked up from his parchment.
"It may come as a shock, and I don't expect you to believe this, but I do have the capacity to work hard . . . I just never do it in lessons." A grin appeared on his face, but it was short lived. "What are you still doing down here?" he demanded.
"What?" asked Lily.
"I told you to go upstairs and go to sleep!" he said, with a wonderfully authoritative tone.
"Oh," Lily sighed distractedly. She raised a hand to rub her eyes, and let out a small scream when she found herself being lifted clean off the sofa. "Potter!" she squealed, outraged, "Put me down this instant!" James ignored her, and ferried her across the hall, struggling to keep a hold of her knees and back.
"Stop squirming," he told her in the same tone, and pulled her body closer to him. Lily gave up, she was too tired, thank Merlin they had reached the door to her staircase, he was going to put her down now . . .
"What's the password?" he asked her. Oh no.
"Just put me down now," she resisted, "I can walk, you know."
"Not until you say the password," he said, not budging. Lily could only be grateful that nobody was in the same room to see this, she'd never live it down.
"Pruning Petunias," she muttered sullenly, and to her horror, not only did he not put her down, but he carried her all the way up the stairs and into her dorm! Well, maybe not completely to her horror, because she did want to sleep, and she had been dreading climbing those stairs, but still . . .
James placed her carefully on the duvet and jumped backwards when she made a grab at his neck.
"Now, now," he told her, waggling a finger at her teasingly, "it's for your own good, young lady. Now go to sleep and don't wake up until late tomorrow in time to ferry the little people over to Hogsmeade with me, all right?" Lily only glowered in response. "Nighty-night," he bade her, and disappeared through the door.
Much too late, Lily had the idea of throwing something at him, but she probably would have been too sleepy to aim properly anyway, and she couldn't be arsed to get off her warm bed.
Next morning, Lily put it down to being impossibly tired, but at the moment when she snuggled down under the covers and closed her eyes, the thought struck her that it had been quite nice, being ordered about by James. Maybe it was because she was used to having to be in charge herself, but that authoritative tone that James had only dared to use because she was wandless and tired, had made her feel . . . cared for.
The stress was taking its toll on her, she thought the next morning, she was going nuts.
"Thanks, I needed that," Lily said to Verity, as she put her bottle of Butterbeer back down on the table after taking the gulp to end all gulps.
"I'd hate to see what you'd be like with real drinks," Verity said, surveying the half-empty (or half-full) bottle.
"Then you'd better not offer to pay for them," grinned Lily.
"I'll bear that in mind," smiled Verity. "So, you nervous then?"
"'Bout what?" asked Lily with a grin, "ending up a terminal alcoholic and drinking myself into an early grave?"
"No, 'bout practices," Verity said, tutting.
"Should I be?" asked Lily, "because . . . I really am."
"Well, you know," Verity said, tracing the rim of her Butterbeer bottle, "it's just . . . girls . . . playing Quidditch . . . you don't see it all that often, do ya?"
"You've been playing since you were seven, you told me," Lily argued.
"Yeah, but I'm different, I'm a 'ladette' aren't I?" smirked Verity. "All friendly with the chaps and so on, I don't have any girl friends, apart from you, of course, and I play Quidditch. You, on the other hand are undeniably a girly girl, aren't ya? I'm just saying, don't be surprised if you get any trouble from people, that's all. Besides, I reckon half the school thinks I'm a boy, and the other half reckons I'm romantically confused, so there you go . . ."
"Little do they know that Verity Hooch only plays Quidditch because all the good-looking guys do!" whispered Lily, propelling both her and Verity into hysterical giggles.
"Hello!" muttered Verity, after she had pulled herself together. "Speak of the devils." Lily turned to the doorway of the pub and spotted two heads of black hair, one of light brown and one of blonde.
"Oh, bollocks," she muttered as Verity stood up, clutching her Butterbeer and waved for all she was worth.
"OI! Lads!" she hollered. Really it was no wonder half the school thought her best friend was a boy, mused Lily, with a voice like that, she could commentate for games without a microphone. "Are you gonna come and buy us a couple of rounds or what?"
James's eyes lit up when he saw a redhead beside Verity, as if he'd just been presented with a Quaffle and an open goal. The boys waded through the pub towards their table and slid into seats, trapping the girls between them. No escape now, Lily, she thought.
"Evening, evening, ladies," grinned James.
"And what would you two lovely creatures be doing in a pub of all places?" demanded Sirius, grinning, "It just ain't respectable you know."
"Especially with the likes of you lot," added Lily, while Sirius pretended to be scandalized and clamped his hands to his cheeks.
There was a clacking sound and the six seventh years looked up too see Madam Rosemerta tottering over to their table with a notebook and a quill.
"All right, kids?" she said, giving them a fuchsia pink smile, while Lily grinned back. That really was the colour to get anyone with a hangover out of your pub in the early morning. "What it'll it be, then?"
"Why, Rosemerta!" exclaimed Sirius suddenly, ignoring the question. "I do believe you get prettier every time I see you."
"That's probably because you get uglier every time you see your reflection in the drink she hands you," muttered James, loud enough for everyone to hear. Rosemerta threw back her head and laughed as if the smoke coming off the warlock's pipe at the next table were laughing gas.
"What a pair, you two!" she gasped, "But I can't stand here, chortlin' all evening with you, got drinks to serve an' that."
"What a shame," sighed James, tilting his head towards Lily in feigned disappointment. Rosemerta arched an eyebrow and glanced from Lily to James and back again.
"'Ere," she said suspiciously, "You two been stepping out at last, an' not telling me?" Lily's eyes widened in horror. James made a 'pf!' noise.
"I wish!" he laughed, and leaned forward to whisper quite loudly, "Lily here's out of my league."
"Now that is a shame," sighed Madam Rosemerta, while Lily let her head fall onto the table with a bang. "So what'll it be to drink, boys?"
"Three whiskeys."
"A bottle of Ogden's."
"Five vodkas."
"And a dozen shots of gin," they said in turn.
"Four Butterbeers it is," smiled the landlady, turning back to the bar.
"Oh well, two months to go until I'm eighteen," grinned James. Verity gasped.
"No bloody way!" Lily exclaimed quietly, with such a dirty look on her face that a whole bottle of Miss Skower's could not have removed it.
"It's all right, Lilo, you don't have to get me a birthday present," James assured her. Then he followed her gaze and said, "Oh."
"It's the wand-blonde parrot herself," Remus muttered.
"Pray for your lives and reputations," added Sirius quietly as Rita Skeeter neared their table.
Lily eyed the Ravenclaw scathingly, trying to keep her temper under control, but it was like trying to hold back a shark that had just caught a whiff of blood in the water. Rita smiled around the table smugly, knowing perfectly well she was as welcome here as a notorious criminal in Gringotts.
"Hi, James," she said sweetly.
"Goodbye," he answered pointedly. Rita only smiled wider and tossed her hair over her shoulder.
"I wonder if you would do me a favour, you see, I run this little newsletter called Hogwarts Hearsay, you may have heard of it, anyway, it would be really good if the next issue had an interview, preferably from someone famous, and you're the lucky star!"
"Pardon me?" asked James, in a slightly disgusted voice.
"I would only need about five minutes of your time," Rita said, "or more . . . if you feel like it." She smirked.
"No, I honestly didn't hear a word you said," James amended, "because I've decided that it's best not to pay any attention to the stream of utter rubbish that comes out of your mouth, so I'm afraid that there's really no point in you being here any longer, unless it's to apologise for spreading nasty rumours about Lily." James looked at the Ravenclaw expectantly.
"Well I don't think there's anything to apologise for," Rita said innocently, looking hurt. "You see, it is called Hogwarts Hearsay, so whatever I hear, I write. That's how it works."
"Who did you hear it from then?" asked Verity, laying a hand on Lily's twitching arm.
"I can't reveal my sources," Rita said, as if she were talking to a frog.
"We understand," Remus told her, "It's never easy admitting you're a schizophrenic."
"Now please remove yourself, and the voices in your head," requested Sirius.
Rita's lips pursed as if she had just drunk a whole bottle of undiluted lemonade, before she turned around, and walked towards the doorway of the pub.
It was Wednesday, in the changing rooms and James was standing with Verity and Sirius outside the cubicle Lily had been changing in . . . for the last half-hour.
"Lilo! Come on!" called Verity.
"You want to be out in time for our first match, at least," added James, grinning. The door unlocked and opened. There stood Lily in a severely over-sized set of Quidditch robes, hem dragging on the floor and sleeves half way down her thighs.
"Don't. Say. A. Word," she warned them.
"I think we ought to shrink them," James said, and Lily shot him a look that could have blistered paint.
Her Quidditch robes shrunken considerably, Lily followed the other seventh years out onto the pitch, clutching James's old Sparrow Sixteen . It sounded silly, but she didn't feel stupid now, as she did in her huge robes in the changing rooms. All that made way for an undercurrent of excitement as James dumped the box of Quidditch balls down on the grass and his broomstick on top of it.
"Right, seven players, we're all here, are we?"
The team nodded, looking eager to get back on the pitch. As well as Lily, James, Verity and Sirius, Keith Barker filled in the other Beater's position, (sixth year, only just recovered from sixty-eight stitches collectively) Ainsley Tall defended the goals as Keeper, (third year, told to tie back his dreadlocks every single practice by James) and Simon Kipping added to James and Verity as the third Chaser (sixth year and apparently knew the release date, selling statistics and mechanical characteristics of every broomstick currently sold in the world).
"This," began James, "is Sirius's, Verity's, Lily's and my last year here at Hogwarts, our last and Lily's only year of playing Quidditch."
Lily glanced at Sirius and Verity, asking silently if James was always this morose at the beginning of each season. Verity shook her head with a puzzled look on her face.
"This is our last chance to win it. Admittedly, we were a bit unlucky the past few years, injuries . . ." Keith grinned as Sirius slapped him on the back, ". . . people taking time off because it looked it they were going to fail their OWLs . . ."
"I passed, didn't I?" smiled Simon, raising his hands in a shrug.
" . . . and, of course, those bloody, cheating, foul-playing Slytherins," finished James bitterly. "We easily have the best team in this school, and the only reason we haven't held up that cup is because some people think it's all right to ignore the rules of this beautiful game!" There was a cheer from the team and Lily struggled not to laugh.
"So this year, what we're going to do is play like we've . . . always done and . . ." The captain frowned for a moment, ". . . hope we don't get screwed about, I suppose." Sniggers ran through the team as James coughed and pushed his glasses up his nose. Then he laughed. "OK, I mucked up that speech, but we're going to win this year! I can feel it!" he chuckled as the team laughed and shook their heads.
"Oh, and one minor note," James added. "Our Lily here's a bit new to the game, doesn't quite know what she's doing as of yet, ow" James rubbed the back of his head where the Sparrow Sixteen had connected with it. "But if any of you or anyone else gives her any stick about it then you're off the team no arguments."
"Are we talking about the same Lily here?" asked Ainsley, "I don't think anyone has dared give Lily any stick, ever." He winked at her, making her smile.
"Even more of a reason not to," grinned James, kicking the ball box open. "Right! Groups of three please, one at each end. One feeder, one attacker, one defender, count your goals! Tall! If I have to tell you about that hair again, I'm coming after you with a pair of scissors, you have to sleep sometime!"
Question 1) Referring to the attack of Asian Harpies in 469 BC, explain how this event in wizarding history affected the next fifty years both socially and politically. (12 marks)
Lily had long decided that there was absolutely nothing funny about NEWT practice papers. They were hard, they were impossible without an open textbook and by Merlin, they were bloody scary. Sighing, she flipped though Before You Were Born: Three Thousand Years of History You Missed, NEWT Edition, underlining chunks of text in red ink. She was just about to start the first sentence of her answer when a knocking sound echoed through the Heads' Dorms, making her quill skid on the parchment.
Tutting, Lily threw it down onto her desk and stood up, going downstairs to the hall. No one was supposed to be out of their dorms at this hour, and what idiot would be breaking a rule and knocking on the Heads' door? It was probably stupid Potter back from his rounds, who had forgotten the password . . .
"Amos!" she exclaimed, as the door clicked open.
"Hello, Lily," he said, and made to enter. Lily stopped the door opening.
"Sorry," she said, a puzzled expression on her face, "But . . . what are you doing here?"
"I came to talk to you. Isn't it the Head Girl's duty to listen to anyone who wants someone to talk to?" he asked, with a funny smile on his face.
"Depends what they want to talk about," Lily said coldly, "you have twenty seconds." A faintly panicked look crossed his face, then it flicked back to that quietly confident and very annoying look.
As soon as he got into the Heads' Dorm, James thought as he neared it, he was going to have a long bath and go straight to bed. He took his glasses off to rub sleep out of his eyes as he turned the corner into the corridor, and frowned as he couldn't remember the password. What was it again? Goopy Goo? He didn't have to worry though, the door was already open. Lily was talking to someone through the doorway. James perched his glasses on his nose again so he could see. What was Diggory doing anywhere near Lily?!
James stopped to watch, it would be a little awkward if he just strolled up and went in, but he promised himself, if voices got raised . . .
"Lily," Diggory began, leaning against the door. Lily, on the other hand, was beginning to regret leaving her wand in her room. "You can't deny that . . . everybody makes mistakes. You have to accept that everybody makes mistakes."
"I accept that everybody makes mistakes, Amos," Lily answered calmly. James closed his eyes, as if someone had shone a light bulb in his face.
"And I want to put my mistake right," Diggory continued.
"That's good, Amos," Lily said sweetly, "because I made a mistake too." Amos looked at her and smiled. James leaned against the wall, a horrible feeling gripping his stomach, giving him the sensation that he was on a submarine with a leak.
"Good," Diggory said.
"Yes it is, actually," Lily said, "because my mistake was ever agreeing to go out with you in the first place."
"What?" asked Diggory, as James stuffed a fist in his mouth to stop himself laughing.
"I don't want to talk to you anymore, Amos," Lily said, trying to close the door, "Goodnight."
"No! Wait! Lily!" he exclaimed, struggling to keep the door open. This was enough for James, who started to move towards them.
"Diggory! Let go of the door!" Lily said, her voice rising.
"Not until you admit we belong together!" Diggory shouted, and seized Lily's wrist.
"Let me go! What do you think you're doing?" There was a cough and the two of them turned to see James standing beside them in the corridor. Diggory's nostrils flared in anger as James pasted an inquisitive smile on his face.
"Isn't it always the same with rounds?" he asked Lily in a gossipy tone, "You trek all the bloody way round the castle without a clue, and the rule-breaking buggers are always in the last place you look." Lily breathed out slowly and wouldn't look him in the eye. "So Diggory!" James continued, as if they were at a party and he was just about to start a conversation by asking what the boy did for a living, "Here you are, out of your dorm, harassing the Head Girl! Aren't you lucky I came along? Let's see, first I want you to let go of Lily." Diggory sullenly released Lily's wrist, and she drew it back to her, stroking it to get blood flowing to her fingers again. "Well done," James told Diggory, "Now I want you to piss off and know that I'll be taking points off and getting you a detention every night for as long as I can manage."
James stuck his hands in his pockets as Diggory turned slowly and walked back down the corridor. Lily darted angrily into the room, not quite sure who she was angry at, but angry anyway. James rushed in after her.
"Hey, wait! Are you all right?" he asked her, before she reached her staircase. Lily turned on him, her anger bubbling over.
"I was doing fine!" she shouted, clenching her fists so that her newly blood-rushed knuckles went white again. "Just fine!"
"Lily, he was hurting you!" James answered exasperatedly, gesturing to her wrist, "And I don't trust him not to take advantage of-" he was about to say 'your size' but he opted for, "Your extremely fast metabolism," instead. Lily changed track.
"You are such a hypocrite!" she told him furiously, "What right did you have to punish him for sneaking out after hours? You've done it more times than there are trees in the Forbidden Forest!"
"Lily, calm down," James said, stepping towards her, but she only kept on stepping backwards, and James was afraid she was going to trip on something. "I'm not pretending I didn't break a few rules, but as least it was only to play a prank or two, not to try and force someone I hurt to be my girlfriend again!"
He hadn't realised he had raised his voice, but it was louder than it usually was and with James, that qualified as shouting. Maybe it had been the sight of Diggory's grip, blocking the path of blood to those fingers that he believed could catch the snitch, the fingers that wrote one hundred and three percent exam papers, the fingers that threw momentous curses, tucked those auburn ringlets behind those ears . . . the fingers that were now clamped over those lips as those eyes struggled not to cry.
James's mouth opened in quiet horror as he watched her curl up and put a hand over her trembling lip.
"I'm really sorry," she told him, "I didn't mean any of that."
Lily Evans never cried.
"Lily," he said softly, rushing forward, "come on, sit down." He put a hand on her shoulder and guided her towards a sofa. She sat without argument, sniffing, failing to stop the tears that were falling onto her freckles. "Hey," he said, sitting down and digging about in his pocket for a handkerchief, "Hey, don't cry."
"I am not crying," she said in a wobbly voice, but she took the hanky and mopped her eyes anyway. James breathed a laugh and put his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.
Lily couldn't remember the last time she had been hugged like that, if there had indeed been a time, but all of a sudden, as she leaned into the cotton of his school shirt and breathed in his smell, it seemed like she had nothing to cry about, even though she definitely was not crying.
"Of course not, Lilo," James answered, as he rocked her slowly, "keep the hanky."
a/n
Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better – Sang by Doris Day and some other guy whose name I can't remember in the musical, Annie, Get Your Gun
It's Been a Hard Day's Night – By the Beatles, and no, it's just the first verse, not the chorus, if anything of that like went on, rest assured I would have told you. I'm not that cruel
Firstly, this is how my life in general pans out for the next two months:
Until Thursday, I have to find time to study, go Christmas shopping, and go to various Christmas parties that my luffly friends are holding.
On Thursday the 22nd, I'm going to Florida until the 3rd when I will be back, severely jetlagged just in time for TWO WEEKS of national mock exams on the 5th until the 19th.
Fabulous.
So basically, there probably won't be many updates in the next month. Maybe there'll be one or two . . . if you're lucky. (Cries with the massive injustice of nasty exams)
Secondly, does anyone know what the weather's like in Florida now? Or maybe how many hours the flight is from London? Knowing that, I might be able to work out how many subjects I can try and cram into my head during the flight.
Thirdly, I just realised: this story has more than 100 reviews, yay! However, I sort of missed it, because it was two chapters back, I think, so I've picked the landmark number of 111 reviews which was reached in chapter 5, and I have drawn some random little doodle to say THANK YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH! I LUFF YOU!
img. photobucket. com/ albums/ v200/ koonelli/ Fanart/ 111reviews. jpg (delete spaces after every dot and slash)
Call-Sugarhigh-Police: Lol, I luff it! I luff it so much! Savvysavvysavvysavvy . . .
Flame Of Desire: OK! Thanks so much, honey.
iluvdraco4eva: Hilarious, eh? I shall make sure to piss James off, more then. :D
SatanaChick: Thank you so much, darling. Dialogue is the thing that keeps the fic rolling.
SnakeEyesHannah: Wow, such flattery! Your second favourite author is a good thing to be, I think. Hey! You can't have James (in any sense of the word), there's a queue here, you know, so get in line, sister. :D And of course awesomest is a word, I shall make a point of trying to use it somewhere. Hold on a minute, if you need the fic to stay alive, and you smack me over the head, then I shall probably be out cold on the floor, therefore I shall not be able to write any more chapters and we shall both die terrible tragic deaths. In essence, I hope I update soon enough for you. (And please don't hit me, I'm nice, honest.)
shortywithbrains: Yeeheehee. I luff embarrassing Remus. He's such a sweety.
Shanti-shiznigh: Franz Ferdinand IS sexy? I'm talking about the band, honey, who ARE sexy. I hope that's who you're talking about too. Thanks so much for the review, and I really hope that's your real name, because it is the coolest.
soccerchic1989: Yeah, fanfiction was being a bit of a bitch last chapter, and I wanted to update sooner but the bloody thing wouldn't let me. Grrr. But that is all behind us now and we're friends again. (Huggles website)
limbo-gal: I think so too. She's very stubborn though, so it could be a long while before we get to move the donkey anywhere. In the meantime, I get to write lots of shamelessly teasing, slightly suggestive, plot-lengthening fluff!
Smay: No! Lily and James are not together! If they got together, I would do it in a BIG way. Like kisses and celebrations and fireworks and all that jazz. I'm still not sure I'll get them together, you know. It could NEVER HAPPEN!
Red-Emerald: Yes! Hoorah for Quidditch! I luff writing about Quidditch games, they're so fun to describe.
Anne-Janet: Cookies! (drools) Yes! Please sit down, my luff. Now, Milk? Sugar? I am sorry your last review didn't show up. Fanfiction was not being nice to me either.
Tracey: Yes, James is sweet, we luff him. About MelissaMarie, she wrote a fantastically entertaining fic, but I remember applying for the job of beta, and she emailed me back with an acceptance of the job. So, there I was, thrilled to the very bones in my body that I was going to beta for her, and then she never sent me any chapters. I honestly haven't a clue what's happened to her. I wrote her email, wondering where she'd gone, but she never wrote back. Basically, I'm as stumped as you are, luff.
charbar: Original? Yay! Original! I ring bells and sethdance every time I hear that word in my reviews! Honey, history course work is not worth your time, think of how many chapters I could be writing during course work. Just THINK! I may string it out forever. I could never get them together. I could make them go their separate ways without any sort of closure. Wouldn't THAT be original? (Grins evilly)
siriusforeva: Go James! (Waves flag!)
Laney-Wood: I think you'll find Lily doesn't really like James, but her opinion is changing, just very slowly :D How many sisters do you have? I really wish I had a sister. All I got is a useless little brother who I never speak to, but that's my luck for you.
fairybells3: With sugar on top? Well, you sold me, my darling. :D
geckaclark: Update soon or I shall kill you? Well, other people seem to like the story, so if you kill me, I suspect you won't be popular with either them, or my posse. Never mind, you left a nice review, so I forgive you.
kiwislushie: Sadly, Lily didn't say yes when James asked her out, she just didn't shout at him. Which is an improvement, really, but still not ideal. Yes, Snape will be back, so BE AFRAID!
milky way bar: Thank you, my luff, see you next chappy!
mika-mitch: Hiya! Well, I'm not a cowboy, it's just what people say in London. James is funny, I often laugh at him. He doesn't really appreciate it.
Elspeth Renee: Yes, all the conflict do make it interesting. I have many more up my sleeve, just you wait, my darling.
FrighteninglyObsessed: Not worse? Are you sure? If you're close to giving my some con crit, please do! Another use for Snape? That would be telling. (Giggles)
Ranitta: Thank you so much for the review! Where are you from?
foxyie xox: Sadly, it wasn't Snape. Although you don't like Diggory either, so I hope I satisfied your lust for revenge.
Tsusetsu: Thanks, are you sure you want to come? I think maybe Scotland would be a better choice, or Australia.
The ORIGINAL Meathead: Unfortunately, the first practice wasn't interesting enough for me to write about, but I did write some fluff. I'm convinced that little brothers are punishments for we must have done in another life or something.
Lady of Masbolle: Fantabulous? Thank you very much. Keep reading, my luff.
Next chappy:
It's pistols at dawn between two teams, and it might not even be those scheduled to play the first game of the season.
I hope you've all got your red and gold scarves on for Gryffindor's first match. I expect banners, slogans, flags and passionate cheering from everybody. Make sure to get a good seat. Everyone who's anyone will be there.
Basically, don't miss the match, even if you're dead.
