Chapter 24

(A/N): Terribly sorry this took so long! There's a story involved with computer problems, school work, and my faith in Harry Potter being wavered, but unless you want to watch the three-hour interpretive dance I choreographed for it, you'd best just settle for the abridged version… We just bought a new computer, and I had to transfer all my files over to it, then a few short weeks afterwards, the computer started to get all the hijinks and bugs that come with new computers… Eurgh. Then shortly after that school started, taking me by surprise at the emotional baggage train that I forgot came with school… drama, drama, drama. Of course, almost all of my trusty readers out there are familiar with my plight with Harry Potter, and my dilemma of whether or not to continue this fic, so I won't even start to go into that… At any rate, after a long, nearly six months since a real update, I've decided to upload another chapter.

Anyway, after that sad little story about my computer gone bad and my enthralling interpretive dance revolving around the mental traumas of school, there's not much else to say… Aside from that, I can only offer my most sincere apologies for not updating this sooner. I'm a horrible person, yes… Dobby will have my ears for this- I am not fit to wipe the scum off Kreacher's toes. Without further ado of my banal conversation and long introductions, I present to you… (*dramatic drum roll) The Disclaimer. But after that there's a chapter! J

Disclaimer: I own the plot. J.K. Rowling owns the talent, the money, the books, the characters, the titles… Sheesh, you'd think she'd share a little…

It was a dark and stormy night.

James Potter looked up to see the ravishing Lily Evans coming down the stairs. Despite having professed his undying hate for her in the past seven years, he admitted begrudgingly that she was beautiful and gorgeous as she walked down wearing a beautiful and glamorous gown, for which took three paragraphs to describe. However he remained in denial that they would one day marry and have children. All coherent thought left him, though, when she spoke suddenly.

"James."

The word was uttered softly as a trumpet blast, or some other equally unsuitable simile, and he knew that was the exact moment he fell in love with her. His mouth dropped and he said in practiced expression, "Wow, you're so gorgeous. Wiougotaballwime?"

He spoke in ridiculously similar fashion to his son, dropping his previous personality immediately. He waited on baited breath as he stared at her, thinking for a majority of the rest of the chapter of how beautiful she was. Suddenly, she smiled with a mouth full of magically whitened teeth that Witch Weekly would award her for.

"Of course I will!" Lily swooned, in Scarlett O'Hara fashion, saying, "Oh, James!"

James caught her and kissed her for two unnecessarily long paragraphs, saying, "Oh, Lily!"

The author then awoke from a horrible literary nightmare, saying, "Oh, crap!"

Scared you, didn't I? Hehehe, sorry, that's my mini-contribution to the world of clichéd L/J spoofs. Also dedicated to all those reviewers who urge me to load on the romance… That just isn't my style, sorry. Don't worry, though… When anything does happen between those two, I promise not to remain as pathetically clichéd as I have with the rest of this story. Onto the chapter!

"Lily, toss me that when you're done, will you?"

Lily didn't look up from her position on her four-poster bed, leafing through the Valentine's Day issue of Witch Weekly. Rolling her eyes at an article entitled, "How to Convince Your Significant Other to Prepare a Surprise Dinner for You" and other ridiculously long and pointlessly titled articles, she replied, "Nothing useful in here, Bell. Just fashion tips and girls spilling out heir 'darkest secrets' to reporters lapping it up like dehydrated dogs… Rather pathetic, really."

"Just because you can't appreciate and embrace normality," Evelyn answered, attempting to put a pair of crystal teardrop earrings whilst also stretching her right foot out for a shoe that was tantalizingly just out of reach. "Honestly, Lils, I don't see how you can live like that."

Dropping the magazine with a bemused expression, she answered, "Oh, woe is me; normality once again slips away with the elusive silk of adversity destined to smother me for all the days of my woebegone life. How will I go on?"

Leaving the magazine on the bed, the cover picture of a girl with unnaturally flawless skin primping before a mirror, Lily moved towards the lighted mirrors before which her friends were, in similar manner to the magazine model, busily primping and gazing into their reflections critically. "Really, I can't understand for the life of me why on earth so much emphasis is placed on your appearance. It almost makes us sound as though we were shallow and concerned only with surface looks."

"Lily, you think too much," she said missing the sarcasm, followed by a cry of triumph as she slid her foot into the shoe, only to let out a yelp of pain as the earring pierced into her skin. Eyes watering slightly, she continued, "In any case, you're hardly one to speak, if you truly are going to the Valentine's Day Ball like that…" She shuddered slightly as if the concept frightened her.

Lily raised a brow. "What, in something 'less than designer gown' material?" Shaking her head and sliding off the bed, she said delicately, "There are more important things than clothes and cosmetics, Ev. I, for one, wouldn't even be going to this Ball if it weren't for the fact the Leslie's leaving tomorrow and it was mandatory as my part of Head Girl. What's your excuse?"

"Well, Thomas Dulfane asked me out," Evelyn murmured, "and I just thought, 'Well, it'd be rude to turn him down on Valentine's Day, wouldn't it?' So… That's my excuse, dearie." Turning pointedly to Bella, she asked, "Wouldn't you say so, Bella?"

"Precisely," Bella agreed. "You see, it's the same thing with me. After Charles Hollybrook asked me, I just couldn't say no."

"See, now that's your problem," Lily smiled, walking up to Bella. "You can't say no to these poor guys. And you know you won't see them at all outside of school, you probably don't even intend to speak to them after tonight, and still, you agreed to meet them." Helping her friend charm her hair, she finished, "What's the point? Why don't you just put them out of their misery already?"

Evelyn twirled a strand of her hair around her wand, murmuring a Curling Charm under her breath, while a bottle of nail polish was busily giving her a pedicure without any apparent assistance.

"That's the point, Lily," she answered. "This is our seventh year. We're practically adults- and right now, what we're doing is looking for, well, you know, someone we might be able to settle down with after we graduate. We're not… 'husband hunting', don't get me wrong, we just don't want to fall flat on our faces as soon as we graduate by marrying the first bloke off the street because he's something different from the boys at school… We want to filter everything out first, you know? And the whole process is so much easier when you've known them all for seven years."

Lily laughed, preparing to walk out of the door as her friend slowly unwound her hair from her wand, only to give a disbelieving cry as her hair fell limply to its place. "Good luck with that, Ev."

Lily stepped lightly into the Great Hall, eyes widening slightly at the sparse appearance, save for a few boxes lying around the polished floor. The Decorating Committee, it seemed, was late, save for a single person sitting on one of the boxes, fiddling with his wand and sending random sparks off occasionally.

Upon a discreet cough, he turned around… Unexpectedly, he stood and walked towards her. "Evans," he inclined his head in acknowledgement. "What are you doing here?"

Unable to hide her surprise, she blurted, "Severus, what are you doing here?"

"I'm a prefect, Evans. Unless that much has really escaped your notice for the past three years," he answered coolly. At her unsatisfied expression, he said briskly, "I assume you have no date, either, then."

"Pardon?"

He gave her a disdainful smirk as he began unpacking the boxes. "Welcome to the ranks of the scorned and castaways of society. Did you really think anyone ever came to these pointless pre-ball preparation meetings? They all have places to go and people to meet. Most prefects," he said this with a bitter voice as he roughly shoved a box of decorations in her arms, "would much rather spend the hours before the ball lamenting over their tragically hideous faces than set up for the ball itself. The only people that come for these things are the rejected and disliked."

"Still the eternal pessimist, I see," she answered passively, picking through the surplus of decorations in a hunt for something that wasn't quite as frilly as everything else. "And you say it with such bitterness; one would think you didn't enjoy being alone and spiteful. Dare I say it, Severus Snape wants a friend." She ignored the glare he sent her way. "You know, I pity you, I really do. While you rot away some forty years from now, with no real friends and nothing but gloom to keep you company, I'll be-"

"Happily married to the likes of Golden Boy Potter and spending all your time running after all your disgustingly happy little children, I know," he cut her off, with a self-satisfied smirk. "Though I feel somehow you're worse off in the end."

Frowning, Lily held her tongue, unable to find a tactful answer. Snape, she knew had always been the bitter and resentful type- the most interaction she'd ever had with him in the past seven years, not counting brief words at prefect meetings, was in fifth year, one of the more… memorable moments in her lifetime. Though, she reasoned, no one had been behaving quite like themselves that day. Finding her voice, she said briskly, "I'd refrain from further comments of that nature, Severus, please let me remind you, while you are a prefect, I am your Head Girl."

"Pulling rank, Evans? You're a hypocrite, just as bad as him," he spat out the last word with distaste.

After a brief pause, she answered coldly, "Let me assure you, Snape, that I have even less desire to be here than you. However, should you make another comment regarding myself or James Potter, I promise you I'll-"

"You'll what?" Snape spoke softly. "Dock points from my house? File a complaint against me? Remove me from the position of prefect? Believe me, Evans, there are worse things." With a muttered curse, he dropped a box of decorations on his foot. Grimacing, he said, "Such as that."

In spite of herself, Lily found the corners of her mouth twitching. "Physical pain, you mean?" she asked, taking the box from him. "Funny, one would think you'd be proud to have the opportunity to be a prefect and serve your school."

Snape gave her a furtive glance, a smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, yes, Evans, how lucky of me, I'm just tickled pink with the thought of it. I live and breathe to serve under our motto, Draco Dromiens Nunquam Titillandos… Never tickle the sleeping dragon. How… appropriate."

Laughing, Lily replied, "Well, the name's not much for thought, either. Hogwarts. I laughed every time I heard it in my first year. It takes a bit of getting used to, I suppose."

"Yes, I suppose it does," Snape said, laughing. He caught himself, an unreadable expression flickering past his eyes. He didn't say anything, though the air between them suddenly became chilly. A particularly ugly look then fell on his face as he said with cold indifference, "Of course, it is a wonder you survived your first year. What with you being a muggleborn and all, I mean. After all, that practically makes you an open target for ridicule, doesn't it?"

Lily blinked in surprise, before a disgusted look came on her face as she dropped the box. "I'm going to work over on the other side," she said, striding across the hall. Over her shoulder, she said, "Once you're done being a heartless bastard, call me."

"So, with the entire female population at your feet, you choose to go to the dance by yourself?" Sirius shook his head. "C'mon, mate, there must be someone here who you can go with; there's still time."

James watched Sirius's reflection in his mirror, rummaging through an old shoe box of pictures. His shirt slightly wrinkled, cuffs unbuttoned, and tie undone, he could imagine the look of disappointment on his father's face. Turning from the mirror, he sighed, running a hand through his hair in trepidation. "Be sensible, Black, there's a reason why that's called the 'Ex Box'. There's something lacking in all of them."

That was partially true. Everyone in that shoe box was lacking something in personality, intellect, or general ability to live. The 'Ex Box' as it had been so dubbed back in their second year, was a shoebox full of pictures of, predictably, all of the exes of the Marauders. A good number of them were his and Sirius's, though, on occasion, he might find one of Remus's, or, rarer still, one of Peter's. The former because he either wasn't looking for a relationship or when he did find a girl, he'd settle for a long-term relationship, the latter because he had a hard enough time finding a girl to date, let alone break up with. Still, James didn't consider himself that much of a sadist- he didn't enjoy looking at the pictures of him with other girls that fawned over him with near-frightening adoration. But more than the fact that there was something lacking in all those girls was the fact that he didn't enjoy their company. The clingy, air headed type grew tiring and boring after a while, as he'd discovered over the past summer, and he had more pressing matters to concern himself with than a girl.

Ignoring his words, Sirius picked up a picture of a pretty Ravenclaw giggling and flirting with the photographic version of James. "Lisa Pearson. Sixth year fling, lasted approximately two weeks. What about her?"

"Last I heard, she was dating Howard Fortenescue," James replied curtly, fixing his tie. The damned thing was impossible, more like a noose than a tie. The thought of hanging himself with his tie might bring a smile to Lily's face though, he mused, and a smile was rare from her these days. He stored this bit of information in the back of his memory, focusing on Sirius's words. "Good riddance. I'm well rid of her; couldn't hold a conversation with that walking thesaurus."

Sirius dropped the picture back into the box, picking up another. "Eloise Sigmund. Can't remember that one much; never ate anything but salad and grapefruit, right?" Tossing that one out, he picked up another. "Haley Beatrice… She was nice. Lasted about a month, in fourth year. What was wrong with her?"

"She laughed like a hyena," James said without missing a beat. Picking up a cookie from the tray on the desk, he wandered over. Rifling through the photographs, he wondered vaguely which ones had been his and which had been Sirius's. Half the girls in the picture he'd already forgotten, though one of the faces that blinked up at him struck a chord of familiarity.

Picking up the picture, he said, "Eliza Cannon. Now there's a winner; loved my quidditch position more than me, told all her friends we were dating before the fact. Then she threatened to… er, you know… if I didn't date her. Lasted four months, during which I lived in fear of never being able to grace my parents with grandkids."

Shuddering at the thought, Sirius picked up another picture. "How many of these girls do you actually remember, James? I do believe your first girlfriend was in second year, after you'd joined the quidditch team."

"Alana Smithsbrook. My father's colleague's daughter. She was three years ahead of us; my father set us up," James scoffed. More like a business transaction, in actuality. She had thought him cute and sweet, and nothing more, but had obligingly done it on her father's request. "Come to think of it, a third of these girls were probably used for the benefit of my father's business."

Sirius chuckled grimly. "Lucky you. If it were up to my parents, most of my choices would be in the Slytherin House. Hell, I'd probably be dating Narcissa right now, never mind it's practically incest. Toujours Pur," he said bitterly, chucking another photograph in the box. Picking up another picture, he did a double take. Grinning, he said, "Prongsy-boy, you never told me you dated Evelyn."

"Biggest mistake in my dating history… besides Eliza Cannon, of course," James said, dropping the picture back in the book. "Don't know why she and Evans are friends, they don't seem to have much in common, do they? I suppose it's one of those girl things. Here's one of yours, mate, Jasmine Patel. She's dating some bloke who graduated a few years ago now, isn't she?"

Sirius shrugged indifferently, picking through the photographs before a wicked grin fell on his face. "Here's someone you haven't considered," he grinned. "Dear Miss Lily, our Head Girl."

Snatching the picture back, James frowned. It had been taken some time ago, he realized, as she still had her braces that had been removed in the summer before fifth year. "Sirius, don't tell me you dated her? Or did Remus? Hey, why the hell is she in here, anyway?"

"Believe it or not, it was Peter," Sirius chuckled. "Out of pity, I should think, way back in our first year. But then again, she's really come a long way since then, don't you think?"

James stared down at the picture. She had braces in the picture, and her hair had been braided into pigtails, freckles dashed like pepper across her nose. She really had been a tiny person back then, he realized. He vaguely remembered being mildly surprised when, in fifth year, she had suddenly shot up two inches over the summer, braces gone and a Prefect's badge pinned on her sweater. He was dismayed to find the corners of his mouth twitching at the thought of how she had given him detention for staring at her chest their first day back. Feigning indifference, he tossed the picture back in the pile.

"I never really noticed."

Sirius gave him a disbelieving look. "Oh, really? I seem to remember our fifth year, and a certain Prongsy-boy getting a detention for staring at our Miss Evans's new… ahem, feminine attributes the first day back. You were quite taken with her that year, weren't you? Only, she wasn't quite ready to drop the vendetta, was she?"

"Come off it, Black."

Sirius grinned. "She compared you to the Giant Squid after you asked her out. I must say, James, what a time for your usual debonair qualities to fail you."

James kept himself from wincing at the memory. It had been two years ago, right after they had taken their OWLs, yet his memory of that day was as vivid as ever. As Severus Snape's probably was, as well. Still, one good thing had come out of that humiliating episode: any feelings for Lily Evans in a positive light had been quickly shed and replaced by the former loathing and malice of the years before. But then, he pondered, perhaps that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"I was young," James answered dryly, cuffing his friend on the head, ignoring the fact that it was just two years ago. "And stupid. And young, stupid, callow youths do tend to fall for astonishingly pretty girls."

"Ay, love does that to us," Sirius chuckled sagely, pretending not to see the glare James aimed at him. He then blinked, as the words sunk in, before saying, "You think she's astonishingly pretty? I never knew, Prongsy. In fact, I'm hurt at the fact you didn't tell me. And here I thought I was your best mate."

"Too late to eat my words?" James stood, picking up a comb. Realizing it was the one that Lily had given him for Christmas, he put it down halfway through his actions, using Remus's instead. "I'll give you this- In the aesthetic department, she's not badly off, but if you want to talk personality flaws…"

"You didn't think so in our fifth year," Sirius said lazily. "Sure, you acted as though you hated her, but we all knew you were madly in love with you. Rejected in the end, though. Bad luck, Prongs, but I suppose karma catches up to you eventually. I must say, who could blame her, really? You were a bit of an idiot."

"Me? We were all idiots, including you. Thank Merlin I moved on after that… rejection." Pretending the thought mortally wounded him, James feigned a look of despair. "Come to think of it, that was probably the best thing she ever did for me."

Lying on his side, Sirius flicked the pictures back into the box with his wand. "Moved on, have you? I wouldn't say so, Prongs. More like put a temporary halt to your emotions that eat away your mortality like maggots do a dead horse."

"While I thank you for the lovely thought," James wrinkled his nose in disgust, "I'm afraid I must go. I have to meet the lovely Miss Evans now for decorating the Great Hall."

"Suit yourself," Sirius said, rolling over on the bed. "But let me tell you, if you continue to blow me off once you're married, you better make me the best man at the wedding and the godfather of all your kids. Hell, at this rate, you better name your firstborn after me- what with all the sacrifices I'm making for surrendering your company to her."

James shook his head as he swung open the portrait hole, shuddering at the thought. Testing the name, he said aloud, "Sirius Junior."

Shaking his head again to clear the thought from his mind, he stepped off in the direction of the Great Hall.

Lily was only vaguely aware of hearing the muttered oath across the side of the hall (presumably Snape's, probably hurt himself, the slime ball) before hearing someone walk in, whistling. While Severus's last remark couldn't have been unexpected (having endured it from the other Slytherins for the past seven years), she still felt a sting of hurt. She had let her guard down, she realized, and resolved never to let that happen again. Releasing a chubby chuckling cherub from its cardboard prison, she watched it float off into the distance, while it began loading several lethal looking darts and arrows, characterized by their pink glittery wings. She wondered if the cherub actually intended to shoot them at the people attending the ball.

"Holding up well without me, I see," the familiar voice of James Potter said behind her shoulder.

Just what she needed… His company. But then, she mused, it might actually be an improvement compared to Severus Snape. Remembering Snape's words, she quickly banished the thought and busied herself with a box lined with welcoming banners.

Not turning around, she said indifferently, "The world does continue to spin when you're not in the room, Potter."

"Does it?" She couldn't resist turning around at his innocently curious expression, to find the playful grin on his lips. He continued, tossing a casual glance in Snape's direction, "I decided to take pity on you and come, given the fact that no one should have his company foisted on them at any cost."

She pursed her lips. "You're not much of an improvement yourself, James. Though I do thank you for remembering me."

"How could I forget about you?" he asked teasingly, before stooping to pick up a box. Inspecting its contents, he gave her a cocky grin and said, "Ah, of course. The usual frilly pink fluff. Lockhart Heaven, it seems. Who'd we get to cater this pink disaster?"

Suppressing a smile, she answered, "The Lockhart Catering Company, who else? Why, Gilderoy Lockhart's family has been in the catering business for several generations now, it's hardly a wonder what that boy will do when he graduates. He tells me he's torn, though, saying that while catering might be his destiny, he wishes to become an auror. Bold lad, if I ever met one."

"Some of us aren't so lucky in our genealogy," James replied softly. "Catering would be an improvement. But then, Sirius isn't the luckiest chap in the world either. What's that saying- you can pick your friends but not your family?"

Lily frowned. "Aren't his parents friends with yours?"

James laughed dryly, flicking a few tables in place with his wand. "Whatever gave you that impression?"

She frowned, staring at him. "You did. You've always said as much."

James didn't reply, letting her words hang in the air between them as he set up the chairs around the table, the silverware taking its place at the tables. He remained mute as she watched him, a myriad of emotions flickering past the hazel gaze. She sighed, picking up a long banner. Clearly he didn't want to have this conversation. "Come on, James, help me with this banner; hold it while I tack it up."

"They aren't, you know," he said softly as he picked up the other end of the cloth banner.

"Pardon?"

"My parents aren't friends with Sirius's parents," he elaborated. "And I'm sorry if I led you to think that. For a while, I think they were friends- never let it be said that politics won't go corrupt eventually- because of the fact that Sirius's parents are among the elite of society. They made generous donations to the ministry, and my father appreciated it."

"I knew your lot was spoiled rich," she shook her head. "I suppose Remus and Peter are as well?"

James gave her another look that told her clearly she was wrong. "Remus and Peter aren't rich. That doesn't mean they aren't good people, though. Do you really think that low of me, that I'm some spoiled rich boy who only became Head Boy because of his father?"

With a wave of impatience, she said, "We had this conversation this morning."

"Yes, we did," he murmured softly, holding her gaze. Abruptly looking away, he continued as though she hadn't interrupted, "Sirius's parents have been making donations to fund the ministry for years- they're also one of the longest lines of pure blood wizards in record. The Noble House of Black, Toujours Pur."

Wracking her memory for lessons in French, she translated, "Always Pure. Appropriate motto, I suppose."

"Very," James nodded, glancing up to meet her eyes briefly. "They've always prided themselves in their bloodlines, but then, most wizarding families do. Even my father…" James trailed off, as though to say something else, before continuing, "But that wasn't the reason why the alliance between the Potters and the Blacks broke down. The Blacks were a little more… extreme in their views towards muggleborns, and I suppose that was when my grandfather decided to sever all ties with them." At her glance, James said quickly, "Oh, my grandfather wasn't the Minister of Magic. He was very close to him, though, and the Minister himself helped prepare my father to run for the office once he resigned. My grandfather was an Unspeakable, he worked in the Department of Mysteries, one of the first to work in that department. It was relatively new when he joined."

"So working in the Ministry is somewhat of a family tradition, then?"

James let out a hollow laugh as he held up the banner. "You could say that. Along with stubbornness and a knack for finding trouble," he winked. "Anyway, my grandfather was pretty influential in the Ministry, and when he alienated the Blacks, he was setting a trend for the rest of us. My father didn't seem to appreciate this fact, and ignored what my grandfather said about it; they even had a big row over it when I was eight. In the end, my father admitted he was in the wrong, though, and the Blacks no longer had their death grip on the Ministry. Don't you remember our first year, when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor? Half the house refused to talk to him for the first week because of the Blacks' reputation. I suppose that's how Sirius, Peter, Remus, and me all ended up together. The outcast and misfits. At the time, anyway."

"My, my, what a long way we've come," Lily murmured. Shaking her head as she muttered a sticking charm, she leaned back against the wall, staring at him with an amused smile playing at her lips. At his questioning look, she said, waving a hand towards his wrinkled shirt and tie, "Get dressed in the dark today?"

He glanced down, furrowing his eyebrows. He then said blandly, "I never liked the fact that we had a tie as part of our uniform."

Letting out a stifled laugh, she took a step closer, gesturing towards the tie, "May I?"

"By all means," he inclined his head.

"You know, my mother always did my father's tie for him whenever they were getting ready for formal parties," she murmured, as she undid the knot. "I used to watch them with my sister from the top of the stairs. Of course, that was when my sister and I were still on speaking terms."

He didn't respond, but, rather, fixed his eyes resolutely a few centimeters above the top of her head, ignoring the fact that he could smell her familiar shampoo from his position.

"You're lucky, in many ways, actually," she continued, apparently dissatisfied as she looped the tie again. "For one, you've never had to live with my sister."

"I remember meeting her… vaguely, anyway. She glared at me the entire time, didn't she?" He continued to stare above her, eyes transfixed on the crystal chandelier Beauxbatons had given them a few years back. "What a lovely, mild-tempered girl."

Lily laughed softly, now fixing his collar. "You think so? She labeled me the prodigal daughter after I came back from my first year at Hogwarts and convinced herself that I was mum and dad's favorite child. You're lucky you're an only child."

"Am I?" he quirked a brow as she glanced up to meet his eyes. He smiled slightly. "I always wanted a younger brother. Someone who might actually listen to what I said. Though Sirius pretty much told me the same thing when I told him I wanted a sibling."

"Ah, you poor, attention-starved boy," she smiled, smoothing the collar. "I must ask, how many people actually fall for that ploy? What with you pushing everyone off, and all?"

"Touché," he inclined his head. "Are you done yet?"

"Almost," she gave the tie one last tug. Smiling slightly at the almost boyish impatience evident on his face, she smoothed the color and straightened the tie. Stepping back, she reached up and adjusted the tie again. He snorted with impatience and rolled his eyes. Ignoring this, she stepped back again, giving it one last pat before saying, "There. Done."

"You sound like my mother," he said with disdain as he turned his back to her to open a box of decorations. In an accusing falsetto, he said, "'Oh, James, your tie isn't straight enough. Let me spend three hours fixing it while I tell you about everything and nothing until neither of us can tell the difference.' Honestly, I say, to hell with the damned thing, it's more like a noose than a tie."

She laughed…. He could always make her laugh.

James allowed the crowd to push past him, leaning against a wall whilst watching the other prefects dancing. It was like clockwork, each partner spinning and rotating in perfect sync, knowing their partner's next move before they did it. Rather boring, though, in its predictability.

"Hey," a soft voice said at his right. "Don't you get tired of watching that same old routine every year? Rather predictable, after a while."

He smiled slightly, angling his head slightly to see her. "Never realized it was this boring on the other side, though," he mused. "I mean, I thought it was bad enough to be dancing, but I never realized our spectators enjoyed it about as much as us. If no one enjoys it, why do it?"

Lily laughed slightly, jerking a thumb in the direction of the teacher's table. "They enjoy it, didn't you know? They enjoy with a vindictive pleasure watching us do this for all the times they did it in school, and the same for their teachers… I suppose we only do it out of tradition. Though tradition in itself gets to be ridiculous after a while, as its pretty anti-progress when all society talks about these days is advancement."

James smiled easily, shifting slightly again so he was facing her. "Ah, yes, the wonders of the ever-changing paradox that we live in," he said with a pompous air. "Of course, some of us find more than others."

Just then, they backed away as a large cluster of students rushed to the dance floor. One fourth year bumped into him, her eyes widening in horror when she recognized him. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to!" she said, as if in fear of what he'd say. A look that was unmistakably relief washed over her eyes as he tossed her a smile and waved a hand with indifference. She then rushed off to join her friends, tossing a glance back at him while whispering to her friend.

Lily chuckled slightly. "Then again, there are benefits."

James gave her a funny look. "What, star-struck teenagers? I've seen enough of those, thank you," he replied, leaning back and crossing his arms. "If that was a benefit, don't you think my father would have allowed his position to be known? Rather, he decided to make a deal with Dumbledore; I would attend Hogwarts so long as they could have complete secrecy about it. Thus, every time the thought ever entered their minds- associating me with the Minister of Magic- their memories were modified immediately. Don't know how they arranged it, but… it was done. They wanted to give me a normal upbringing."

He seemed to think this last statement was very funny, for then he laughed, and for once, his eyes didn't seem to be telling otherwise. He gestured back at the slowly revolving dancers on the floor. "Back in my first year, I remember sneaking into the Christmas Ball with Sirius and Remus after everyone else in our dorm had gone to sleep. We stole a bit of food and were half-way across the floor when a bunch of seventh year girls spotted us and started exclaiming how cute and adorable we were. We got off alright, though, as the Head Girl danced with me and I charmed her into letting us go without telling McGonagall… We always did manage to get out of the worst of situations." He tilted his head, studying her face before saying, "Until you were made a prefect, of course."

"Fifth year?" Lily wrinkled her nose. "You were a nasty little kid, I must say, and you deserved it. I seem to remember our first day back; you were staring at… well, you were staring in a way that certainly screamed detention all over it. Perverse git."

"I was fifteen," he said in his defense. "And for the first time, you looked, well, pretty. Blame it on the hormones; even McGonagall was laughing when you issued that detention. Most girls would have considered it a complement."

She rolled her eyes, giving a snort of disgust. "Oh, yes, what a complement to be stared at as though I were a piece of meat before a hungry dog."

James gave her a flippant smile, before glancing down at her choice of clothing. At her raised brow, he said in explanation, "For someone who spent nearly an hour fixing my tie, you don't seem to have given much thought to your own personal appearance." As her brow rose further, he added, "Not, of course, that I care about that sort of thing, but most girls wouldn't…"

"Go to the ball in less-that-designer-gown material?" she finished for him. Her choice to wear the simple white turtleneck and red plaid skirt had already been commented on, he gathered, as she seemed annoyed with his questioning. "Evelyn already commented on that, but by all means, do the same. But let me just pose this question to you; I'm not really here by choice, I'd much rather be in the library or in the common room studying, and there's no real rule against my dress code, so… why bother worrying about what they think? It's not as though I'm here to sit and look pretty in front of a bunch of moronic idiots that can't string two sentences together when they're in front of a pretty girl. What's the point?"

"Touché," he inclined his head. "Commendable, as well. I was just about to say, most girls wouldn't have the… courage to come to a ball without the usual gown and ornate accessories."

"There's a reason I was sorted into Gryffindor," she gave him a smile. "Though I like to think my fashion-sense had less to do with it."

"Lily? Are you even listening to me?" Evelyn waved a hand before her friend, annoyed. "Lily?"

Distracted, she turned. "Hmm? Oh, I'm sorry, Ev, what were you saying?"

Evelyn sniffed indignantly, letting out a quick, "Oh, never mind!" before huffing off to explain her woes to someone else, namely, her date. Lily turned, pouring herself a glass of Butterbeer made a curious shade of pink, presumably for holiday purposes. In the past twenty minutes, she had been standing behind the refreshments table, pouring Butterbeer and punch to thirsty dancers, whilst entertaining curious glances from the usual school gossips, no doubt pondering her choice of dress.

As if summoned by this thought, one pretty black-haired Ravenclaw seventh year casually walked up to her table, under the guise of retrieving more Butterbeer, before asking, "So, Lily Evans… I believe we've made each other's acquaintance at Prefect meetings. I'm Tessa Burbank."

Lily neither acknowledged this nor ignored this, continuing with pouring her Butterbeer. At Tessa's expectant look, she sighed irritably, pasting a polite smile on her lips and replying, "Yes, I remember seeing you before. You were always rather quiet in the background, though, so forgive me for not noticing you before. May I help you?"

A rather ugly look came across her face as she said flippantly, "You know, I was the other candidate for Head Girl, and I have many friends, Lily. You do not want me for an enemy."

Lily almost laughed at this, as she had hardly ever considered Tessa Burbank a threat before, and would probably never do so now, once she had shone a light on the fact that she had no real power in the school besides hiding behind her parents' name.  Lifting a cool and appraising brow, the corner of her mouth upturned slightly before she responded softly, "Oh, yes, I know. Now, will that be all, or would your many friends like a refill of drink as well?"

A false bubbly expression replaced the look of venom in Tessa's eyes, as she replied, "Well, my friends and I were wondering," at this point, she turned her head with a swish of her curled, dark hair and waved at her whispering friends, before turning back and sweeping a look over Lily, "What exactly were you thinking when you chose to wear this… tasteful ensemble? After all, your fashion sense is hardly rivaled by anyone at this school, and we were wondering… Perhaps recent events may have contributed to this sudden… difference in style?"

Lily stiffened slightly, before she smirked, handing Tessa back her drink. "I do apologize for having misled you to believe I concern myself with what you and your friends think, Tessa," she said sincerely. When Tessa refused to accept the glass, she shoved it into her hand, saying, "And your question has been asked before, so I suggest you go and find someone who cares."

In a huff, Tessa left, no doubt to carry on gossiping with her friends about the Head Girl. Throwing a backwards glance at her, she returned to her vicious circle of gossips, as they all circled around her in a cluster similar to a colony of bees to their queen.

"And a happy holiday to you, too," she muttered under her breath, jerkily pouring herself a glass and drinking it quickly.

Some thirty-one glasses of Special Valentine's Day Edition Butterbeer later, Lily had noticed the room had begun to grow steadily pinker, almost to a revolting sea of the color. Besides that, her vision was rather hazy, and she was only vaguely aware of the incessant chatter coming from Bella to the left of her.

"Lily, are you alright?" Bella asked abruptly, frowning as Lily stared past her with a dazed smile on her face.

"O'course I'm alright," she slurred slightly, squinting down at Bella. The room had become an ocean of pink, fluttering hearts, the only clear image in her mind being the two rather sinister looking cupids laughing and grunting stupidly amongst themselves, occasionally glancing down at her. "Why wouldn't I be alright? I… am perfectly… fine… I think."

Lily smiled stupidly again, pouring herself another glass of butterbeer, and had raised it to her lips when Bella snatched the glass away from her. Ignoring the indignant cry from Lily, she sniffed the offending drink with an expression of distaste on her face. "Eurgh, Lily, no wonder. Someone's done something to the butterbeer. You'd best get yourself cleaned up and go see Madame Pomfrey. Goodness knows how many other students have been drinking that… substance. Lily… Lily?"

Lily had managed to wander back to the bowl of butterbeer just as Bella swiveled around and steered her away from the drink. "Oh, no you don't," she muttered under her breath. "No more of that nasty stuff for you, who knows what's been put into it. Smells foul, don't know why anyone would drink it in the first place."

"Don't be daft, Bella, I'm perfectly fine," she answered- or at least tried to say. Instead, what came out was an unbecoming belch.

"Excuse you," Bella replied with a look of disgust. Shaking her head, she steered Lily towards a cluster of chairs. As if speaking to a small child, she said slowly, instructing her, "Stay here, alright? I'm going to go find Madame Pomfrey so she can- Argh! This is useless; you're not listening to a word I'm saying."

"Sure I am," Lily slurred again, before her head lolled onto her shoulders as she laughed stupidly.

Bella sighed, searching the crowd. Finally spotting someone, she beckoned Leslie over.

Leslie raised a brow at the state her friend was in, sending a questioning glance at Bella. Lily, meanwhile, began mumbling something about Gilderoy Lockhart and fluffy pink bunnies.

"I think there was something in the butterbeer she drank," Bella explained, tossing a look at Lily. "I was just going to send her to Madame Pomfrey, but in the state she's in, I honestly don't think she can make it up the stairs. And really, I can't leave her here to go speak to Madame Pomfrey, that's just as bad. Do you think you could…?"

Leslie stole a glance at Lily, who was in a rather delirious state, and nodded quickly.

"Stay awake, Lily, Bella will be back soon," Leslie said, as Lily began dozing off.

Really, it had been nearly twenty minutes, and the pink haze was growing thicker and thicker as the time wore on. Closing her eyes helped a bit, but Leslie kept prodding her awake. A bit annoying, really. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she felt a stab of guilt that Leslie was spending her last night at Hogwarts watching after her, but the overwhelming hazy pinkness of her thoughts quickly took over the guilt. At some point, she registered Leslie addressing someone else, and tried to quiet the deafening roar in her ears to hear the conversation.

"She's what?" a male voice, suspiciously familiar actually, asked, rather close to her.

"Drunk," a worried voice, presumably Leslie's, answered. "Or at least, we think so. Bella went off to find Madame Pomfrey nearly half an hour ago, but she's tied up right now with a bunch of other sick students- apparently some second year girls burned their faces trying make-up charms or something like that. Anyway, I'm going to go check and see if Madame Pomfrey can manage to send down some antidotes or potions, but I really can't leave her alone. Seems to be a bit of a hazard to herself in this state, so-"

"Don't worry, I've got her," the second voice answered, and she felt herself being handed off to another person, someone taller, and very… warm. After a moment of pause, the voice said, "What? Don't look at me like that. I know we don't get on very well, but I'm not going to do anything cruel when she's in a state like this."

"Potter?" she asked, turning her face upwards, squinting up at him. Instead, she managed to bump her forehead into his chin, and closed her eyes, wincing. "Ow," she moaned softly, rubbing the spot. "Daft git."

She felt, rather than heard, him chuckle, before hearing, "See? You should be more worried about me. Better hurry back, though, who knows what other damage she can inflict on me by the time you get back here."

Poking an eye open, she saw Leslie give her a worried look before hurrying off. Once Leslie had left, she pushed herself away from him, mumbling, "Get off me, Potter, I don't need a keeper." Though it killed to open both her eyes, she managed to pry them open and amble a few steps away before he caught up in two quick strides.

"You're quite stubborn, you know that, right?" he muttered, pulling her towards him to the dance floor. "C'mon, you don't want to sit, and I can't leave you alone, so we might as well dance. Once, for old time's sake." Not waiting for a reply, he half dragged her there, placing her hands around his neck for support. "You are one piece of work, Evans."

Lily laughed shortly, not quite sure at what, her head dropping towards his shoulder. He fought down a laugh as she mumbled, "Ah, you know you love me."

Reflecting, he sighed softly, wondering how he had gotten to this situation. The whole reason he'd been looking forward to this dance was because McGonagall had decided that they should have a break from opening the ball every time, yet he'd ended up dancing with her anyway. Though he couldn't find many complaints, as he found himself slowly adjusting to the dim light on the floor, admitting there were worse things than dancing with Lily Evans. Dead drunk, of course, but that was beside the point, as he liked her much better when she didn't talk, anyway.

"You smell nice," she slurred, as he rested his chin at the top of her head. In a dazed coupling of words, he picked up, "Nice… feels like home… can't believe… James Potter."

"Right back at you," he replied, steering them away from another pair of dancers. "Though ask me this time tomorrow and I'll deny I ever said it," he grinned easily, glancing down at her. She was on the brink of sleep, it seemed, a lazy smile playing at her lips. Suddenly her eyes flew open, and she tilted her chin upward.

"Brown," she murmured. "Your eyes… You have pretty eyes."

James chuckled again, and felt a ripple of laughter through her as well, as she rested her head against his shoulder again.

Always the bloody hero, he was, and naturally, the hero always got the girl.

Severus Snape glowered from across the room as he watched James Potter and Lily Evans dancing slowly. Not that he was jealous, but still… Evans wasn't a bad person, if he were to ignore the fact that she was a Gryffindor and all Gryffindors were scum. It was just a shame to see her tied up with that air-inflated ego head. He lifted his glass with a sardonic chuckle, saying under his breath, "Cheers."

Leaning against the wall, he spat a curse, wondering why it always had to be James bloody Potter who got everything. It wasn't as if he didn't already have enough- Severus's family had been well-acquainted with the Potters before he came to Hogwarts. The Potters were generally wealthy, famous on a less grand scale, and had a distinct importance in the air of self confidence they all seemed to possess. Why shouldn't it have followed with Potter Junior to school?

Turning away from James, Severus turned his attention to Lily. James Potter was one thing, but Evans… She was just too bloody pure. Sweet and naive, with very little knowledge of the world beyond the sheltered walls of Hogwarts. Perhaps that was why most of the Slytherins despised her… She was the perfect little Gryffindor. Potter had, at least, experience in the real world, he knew. There was something behind his eyes, Severus had noticed, that hadn't been there before their sixth year. Over that summer, something had changed, and he was no longer a little kid anymore. Evans, however, still was, with everyone protecting her.

Lily Evans, Severus scoffed at the thought. Everyone was a bit in love with her… Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, Potter… even himself. She was beautiful, yes, but there was something else about her… something magnetic that drew people towards her. Black and Lupin probably loved her like a sister, and held her as a model above all the girls they had dated… senseless idiots. Pettigrew loved her in a different sense, admiring her as something unattainable and unreachable, admitting that Black, Lupin, and Potter would always get the first pick in life, while he stepped faithfully aside. Yet she had noticed him, and had bestowed a smile upon a lonely little kid, and he had watched her out of the corner of his eye ever since.

And Potter… even if the pigheaded git never realized it, he was in love with Lily Evans in every sense of the word. He'd probably fallen in love with her sometime in their first year, when she was still a scrawny, unnoticeable little girl. Hell, even he wouldn't have noticed her if it hadn't been for the fact that James Potter and his friends had decided to pick on her, no doubt following Potter's lead. He could have chosen to just ignore her, but somehow, Potter had noticed her when she was invisible. It was hardly a wonder once Lily had shown up one September first on their fifth year looking stunning that James had noticed. Yet the fool had managed to distance himself further from her good graces, making himself look bad in the mean time. That was the first time Severus had ever held a shred of respect for the girl. Now, two years later, though, it was only a matter of time before the hero played his part and won the girl. That was the inevitable end, after all.

Himself… he supposed he loved her too. In a different way, probably just to annoy the hell out of James Potter. Yet every time he saw her, he was reminded of the better person he could be. She had that effect on people- making them believe they could be- making them want to be- a better person.

That was why, of course, it would be best to stay away from her.

"Where's Bella… and Leslie?"

James shrugged, glancing over the crowd searching for the familiar mop of hair that was Leslie. "I can't seem to find them. Maybe we should go to Madame Pomfrey ourselves."

He was mildly surprised to find her wrap a hand on his wrist and mumble, "No, please don't… cold up there… not very…"

He sighed, steering them closer to the edge of the floor. She had been mumbling half sentences for the past twenty minutes, shifting between random comments about his eyes or something about "home" and being "warm" and then just saying nothing at all. Half the time, he believed her to be asleep, yet whenever he made a remark to himself, she had replied, albeit sleepily, but not without her usual dry humor. Still, he realized that Tessa and her usual band of gossips were beginning to congregate and do what they did best… gossip. With occasional bursts of giggles, they would glance over his way when they believed he wasn't looking, then they would giggle more.

"Come on, let's get you up to Madame Pomfrey," he murmured, ignoring her protests as she leaned sleepily towards him. Placing a hand on her shoulder to guide her, he tried to block out the whispers as he pushed open the doors for her. "Think you can make it up the stairs?"

Popping one eye open to look at him, she sighed, getting up. Staring up at the long, twisting, stairwell, she winced, and started up the first step with seemingly great effort. "Didn't think you could," he chuckled, lifting one of her arms around his shoulder as he helped her up. "And you said you didn't need a keeper."

"Still don't… But I… need a friend," she opened her eyes again, turning to meet his gaze. "You… seem nice… when… you're not… being a stupid… prick. Smell like home… and mint… My mother always liked mint. Pine smell, there, too… why?"

James laughed, guiding her up the stairs. "You're very observant, even in an inebriated state," he said, as they passed a portrait of a nosy witch regarding them with keen eyes. "Didn't know I smelled of pine. Must be from being in the Forbidden Forest so many times… Probably shouldn't tell you, though. Once you come to, you'd probably end up reporting me to the Ministry for illegal magical practices."

"Don't… trust me, do you?"

They had reached the top stair at last, and he ignored the question as he greeted a sleepy Bella and Leslie hovering over the patients. There were four beds where the four second year girls were bedding, most of them sleeping soundly, though a few kept mumbling things about beauty charms in their sleep. Bella greeted him, whispering quietly, "Sorry, Leslie came up to check up on me, I know. Madame Pomfrey needed help, though, since Lily wasn't the only one who overdosed on the Butterbeer. Apparently those cupids Gilderoy Lockhart hired for us were trolls, and they were having a bit of a lark watching the students get drunk. I volunteered to help take over some of the other patients. But Madame Pomfrey's in the other wing, behind the curtain, if you're looking for her."

"Thanks," James nodded curtly, taking Lily by the arm and guiding her with him. She sighed sleepily, leaning towards him again. Glancing down at her, he murmured, "Come on, let's get you cleaned up… Madame Pomfrey will know what to do."

"Indeed," a brisk voice said behind him. She shook her head, before saying in a clipped tone, "Ridiculous, these balls, I always end up with at least thirty of the students drunk because some undisciplined little child decides it'd be funny to tamper with the drinks… Never mind, never mind. Well, Mr. Potter, help Miss Evans to a cot over there, behind the curtain. There'll bottle with a potion in it on the table next to the cot; make sure she drinks all of it. She needs sleep, so don't disturb her. I'm much too busy to help you, but I trust you won't muck things up as badly as you did the last time when Remus Lupin was staying here last year."

James was mildly surprised, given the fact she still remembered the incident with the dungbombs they'd sent Remus during his stay in the Infirmary. "You're trusting me this time?"

Madame Pomfrey clucked her tongue, evidently displeased with the fact he was keeping her away from her other patients. "Any reason I shouldn't?" she asked sharply. "I'm quite busy here, Mr. Potter, and if you can't follow simple instructions, by all means, please leave, but if you care about the welfare of Miss Evans at all, you will do as I say and stop raising so many questions." Shaking her head, she turned, attending to a boy whose tongue had been severely burned by an acid pop.

James sighed, guiding Lily towards the cluster of empty cots. She seemed rather reluctant to let go of him, he'd noticed, though it was probably just the haze of her thoughts. Giving her the potion, he slid her shoes and socks off as she coughed down the potion. Pulling a face, she muttered, "Nasty stuff, that."

Easing her back onto the pillows, he gave her the rest of the bottle. "Drink up, you'll feel better in the end," he murmured, as she finished the potion with a look of distaste. "Now, get some sleep, Madame Pomfrey will have my head if I disturb one of her patients."

Lily sighed softly, her eyes closing. "Do you really even care if I get a concussion and never wake up?"

"Sure," James said lightly, reaching out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, his fingers lingering slightly as they trailed over the side of her face. At least she was speaking in full sentences… Though he wasn't quite sure why he cared if she never woke up, considering their history. Smiling slightly, he joked, "Who'd do all the paperwork behind the job if you were gone? We'd end up with Tessa Burbank as Head Girl, and… well, you know what she's like."

She laughed slightly, sighing as he stood to get up. A large emptiness replaced where he had been sitting on the edge of her bed, and she shivered slightly with the cold. She reached up and caught his wrist. Frowning, he leaned forward to hear her whisper, "Stay with me. I don't want to be alone."

Smiling slightly, he conjured up a chair, her fingers still wrapped around his wrist. "If you say so," he murmured, his other hand reaching up to brush away a lock of hair that had fallen out of place. "Though when you wake tomorrow, you probably won't remember… I suppose that's a benefit, though."

She didn't reply, closing her eyes with a soft sigh. He supposed she was asleep, but then, her grip on his wrist seemed to suggest otherwise. Letting out a breath, he leaned backwards in his chair, hoping he wouldn't fall victim to the waves of lethargy already washing over him. After all, if he fell asleep, there would certainly be a lot of explaining to do the next day, to both Madame Pomfrey and to Lily, still asleep on her bed.

His eyelids growing heavier, he said softly, "Goodnight, Lily Evans."

And then he drifted off to sleep himself.

(A/N): Well, that's it…. For this chapter, anyway. Terribly sorry it took so long, and I can only hope you will all still stick around to read the rest of this. My late Christmas gift to the world of ff.net, I suppose. Oh, and a Happy Belated Birthday to Sierra Sitruc, too… fantastic writer, go check out her stories if you haven't already. I realize it wasn't quite my usual, and it was filled with some rather unnecessary fluff, but I was in a fluffy mood, what with it being Christmas and all, you know?

To Come: Aren't you all happy there's a To Come segment? That should assure any of you lot with doubts about my continuing this fic. Next chapter, Lily wakes up, Madame Pomfrey does some yelling, Gilderoy Lockhart pays a visit (he seems almost as popular as Sirius in this fic), and a bit of sentimental reasoning behind acts are revealed.

Til' next time (which hopefully shouldn't be too long from now)! Don't forget to r/r, all of you who have given me encouragement on this fic for the past year and a half since it started shouldn't stop now! I really appreciate you feedback; whether praise, constructive criticism, witty little anecdotes related to the story, or character analysis, I always appreciate it!

Happy Holidays and a Joyous New Year to Everyone!

Once again, don't forget to r/r!