Commetappelle-tu, biatches? I wrote this IMMEDIATELY after the first chapter. Haw-haw.

-&-

Things To Do So That James Will Be Repulsed By Me On My Date With Him.

By Lily Evans.

Commentary By Daria Ranshire.

Who is a ho-bitch.

Am not.

Wear a poncho. True. It is a proven fact that men hate ponchos, unless you are a fat Mexican who also has a very big sombrero on and a large bottle of Tequila. Agreed.

When we get to that dance thing, dance fast to slow music, and slow to fast music. Yes, you shall look like a right freak when you do that. Remember when Connie did that, at the social? She still gets called Octo-arms. What a creative nickname.

Use old fashioned slang, such as, "Fuddy-duddy", "Fixin' some suppers", and, "Strumpets." What the bloody hell does "Strumpet" mean? Old people version of "ho". Ahh. I see.

Act like I am endorsing Pepsi. Talk non-stop about its bubbly goodness. True. But - who doesn't love Pepsi? Keeps ma peppy when I need the pep. You have no idea what Pepsi is, do you? Ok, I don't.

After endorsing Pepsi, tell him in extreme detail about the "Ear People". When he doesn't believe me, exclaim that he is one of them, and then throw butter beer on him. Tell him that it was the only cure. Heh heh. You gonna look so lunaticish after this. Lunaticish isn't a word. Says who? Websters. Who's Websters? Is he in our year? Sigh.

Talk about that dream I had where there were those moldy vegetables that floated around my head, and I ended up eating them and getting really bad diarrhea. Huh. You know what sounds like diarrhea? Gonorrhea. Ahahahahahahahahaahhahaha. Sometimes I wish I was surrounded be more classy, intelligent people.

Cry. Boys hate it when you cry. True. Oh! And I know the perfect thing for you to cry about. Remember when Arthur Weasley got really drunk and peed on your suede shoes? Shut up. I'm going to cry right now, if you're not careful.

Tell obviously made up stories about meeting Leo Edawrds. Wistful look. I wish I could meet Leo Edwards. He's such a dream on camera.

Carry a large handbag around. Say that there is a gun underneath it. He's pureblood. He won't know what a gun is. It'll still be funny though.

Wear a large pair of sunglasses, and conjure dementia-sirens. Scream, "Oh no, it's them!" and hide. You can conjure up Demonter sirens, and you didn't tell me? I'm ashamed…and shocked.

-&-

Stupid Potter. I'm staring at him right now. Thinking nasty thoughts about how much I want to hurt and decapitate him.

"Lily Evans!" yelled Professor Bishop; "We are studying muggle studies right now! Stop staring at Mr Potter's head!"

"He had a large, over-sized bug on it," I replied reasonably, lying through my teeth.

"Well, I didn't see it," Snickered Sirius, who was sitting next to stupid Potter.

"That's because you were too busy staring at Melinda Quarto's boobs," I snapped.

Melinda turned bright red, and glanced down at her cleavage, as she squeaked, "Is it too much? Like, that's what I told Brandi, but she was like, 'A-no!'"

Everyone stared at her, baffled, for a second, before turning back to me, to hear what I'd say about it.

I opened my mouth to say something.

"Miss Evans, I don't know what's wrong with you…"

"Raging PMS," I said helpfully.

Well, it was true.

"MISS EVANS, TO PROFFESORS MCGONAGALL!" Professor Bishop yelled.

…WAIT!

WHAT?

"Wouldn't it be better if I just got that PMS formula from Madame Pomfrey, so that I'll stop being a total smart ass?" I asked.

"DON'T SAY THAT WORD!" Professor Bishop roared.

"What? PMS or ass?" I said, confused.

"BOTH!" Professor Bishop screamed angrily.

Me: Speechless.

"SCAT! GO!"

"To WHERE?" I screamed, matching Bishop's voice, "The Hospital Wing or McGonagall's!"

"DON'T YELL AT ME!"

"I DIDN'T MEAN TO, IT'S JUST THAT WHEN SOMEONE SCREAMS AT ME, I USUALLY SCREAM BACK BECAUSE I'M VERY PERCEPTIBLE TO TONE CHANGES!" I yelled.

"TO PROFFESOR MCGONGALL'S IMMEDIETALLY!"

"FINE!"

I gathered up my books, and waited Professor Bishop to give me that little note they always make you give the teacher so that they know you've been bad.

I stalked out of the classroom quickly, to make sure Bishop couldn't hear me, and started laughing hysterically.

I know, PMS.

It does that to me. Luckily it only happens one day out of every month.

"I CAN STILL HEAR YOU!" I heard Professor Bishop's voice holler shrilly.

"SORRY!" I choked out in-between laughter, "It's the PMS, ya know."

I walked away. Still laughing fervently.

-&-

"… DISRESPECTFUL, INSOLENT AND APPALING. TO SAY … THAT … THAT … WORD IN FRONT OF A PROFESSOR…"

Welcome to my life.

She's been screaming at me for about an hour though. I'm glad.

I get to miss our on Magical History. Muhahahahahahahahhahaha.

"NOW GO TO THE HOSPITAL, AND GET THAT POTION."

Did she just finish?

Wow.

And in record time, too.

One hour, twenty-five minutes and twelve seconds.

WHO'S THAT HOT BOY OVER THERE!

Oh, sorry, got a bit sidetracked.

Wait. There's something wrong with him anymore. One eye is slightly wonky.

Ech.

-&-

"What are you doing here again?" asked Madame Pomfrey.

Rude.

Talking like that is what got me in here.

For shame, Pommie, for shame.

"I need the PMS potion," I said, loudly.

It was only then that I saw the cluster of pre-teen boys, who looked at me and blushed.

Boys. They're just not men.

Pommie thrust a blue, swirling concoction into my hands.

"Thank you," I said, drinking it in two long gulps.

Funny.

I don't feel any different.

J&#BS(A&#&!

Wow.

"Oh, shit!" Madame Pomfrey squealed, "I gave you the wrong potion!"

Uh-oh…

&HQ(S)&$B#!

And then… Everything went BLACK.

-&-

"Lily…?" A voice said hesitantly, drifting into my head, "Lily…?"

It's RUTH!

I tried to sit up.

&#((!

Ahh…Crap.

I can't move.

Let's try my hand…

&#(&!

Crap.

Let's try the other one…

(&(&#&!

Crap.

Ah well.

I'll just lie here, then.

Not like I have a choice. Huh.

WHY DOES GOD HATE ME?

WHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY?

I heard Ruth leave.

No!

Wait!

Coooooooome Baaaaaack, Sweet Ruth.

Sob.

It's your entire fault.

Yeah, you.

If it weren't for you, this wouldn't have happened.

Whimper.

Oh wait, Ruth's coming back.

"Lily?"

HEY, that's not Ruth.

It's Potter.

Gross.

"They say you're in a coma… That'd it'd help to talk to you," He let out a breath, "You've been out cold for a week, incase you can hear. Uh… Slughorn brewed the potion wrong. You missed our date, I don't mind, though…"

He grabbed my hand.

HE GRABBED MY HAND.

Ok, Lily, stop thinking violent thoughts.

AIEEEEEE!

I wish I could move.

I would run, far, far, away from STUPID POTTER.

Must…

Stop…

Thinking…

About…

Hurting…

Potter…

A lot…

"I really like you, Lily, I've liked you for ages… When I heard you were in hospital, I swear, I nearly died. I felt my heart burst into a million pieces. When I heard you might die, I couldn't eat or sleep…" he sucked in a breath, "I'm kind of glad you can't see me - I look a right mess. But the thing is, Lily, it made me realize… It made me realize… That I think I lo-"

Bang. The sound of a door closing.

Sobbing.

James was still by me, though, holding my hand.

And all I could do was think, Ahh, crap, Ruth, why the hell did you hide!

"Oh, God, it was your friend, Ruth McTavish. I thought she was joking when she told me she loved me. I've barely said two words to her…"

It was then that my treacherous body decided to fall asleep.

-&-

I wrote this under the influence of PMS. I'm sorry. I should know better. But I did, and it's out there, and I can't take it back (sniff).

Love,

Trapped Rabbit.