She was beyond frustrated. Here she was making her way over the whole castle to find the prick Potter because her professor had asked it of her. No, he hadn't asked anyone else in the class, but her. Why had she been the target of her professor's wishes? She figured it was because she was the most likely to not decline the request. Lily was known for wanting to please her teachers, even if it meant having to do their dirty work.

This however was a request she should have turned down.

She hardly knew where to start looking, but figured the best option would be the quidditch pitch. However, after making the long trek out there, he had been nowhere in sight. She knew the library would hardly be a place for James Potter to be; she couldn't even remember a time or place she had seen the boy pick up a book. That is, apart from his quidditch magazines and whatever other ones he happened to have. Not that she really wanted to know that much about the boy.

Finally realizing looking from him was a hopeless case, she made her way back towards the class she had already missed half of. It was his fault too. If only he had came to the bloody class in the first place. Yet oh no, here she was looking for him when she could be in class learning something valuable. Turning a corner to make her way back up a flight of stairs, she came to a halt.

------

James was humming. He was always humming. It was one of the few things that he had picked up on from his mum. She was always humming too, and at the current moment, he was wondering if she was humming right now, and if so what exactly was she humming? James was humming some random annoying song, which was well known to a lot attending the school, had they run it into James for he knew a song that gets on everybody's nerves, everybody's nerves. He loved it. It truly did get on everybody's nerves, and he loved watching as it did so.

It had been one of his favorite pastimes when he was a wee ickle first year. And then he found out that annoying Lily Evans was so much better.

As it was, James was supposed to be in class, History of Magic to be exact. He didn't make it. Once again he had managed to sleep in, though how he managed to sleep in during the time an afternoon class took place was beyond him. He had just laid his head down for a small nap, he even remembered telling Peter to wake him before class started. Looks like Peter failed in doing such a thing. Oh well, he could always get the days notes from Remus…. Along with the assignment as well, and claim the next day to have been ill. Oh yes, typical for James. He meant good. Really, he did. Just, no one ever truly saw that.

James wanted to go take a lap around the Quidditch Pitch before the next class started. So, with his favorite Quidditch book under his arm, his robes undone, and his neck tie hanging loosely around his neck he made his way for the entrance hall, running a hand through his hair every so often, making sure that he would manage to stay awake. Somehow he highly doubted that he would make it to the Pitch. Something was always bound to stop the boy. Or he lost interest. Both would probably happen today. He was too tired to keep track of a single thought.

Finally, upon coming to the top landing of a stair case James hopped down two steps, and took a seat. With a loud yawn he took his Quidditch book out from under his arm and propped it up on his knees before opening it. If there was ever a type of book James actually read it was anything related to Quidditch. It was his favorite sport. It was like his life, only not really. He could always easily get lost in the books and the game, and flying had to be his favorite part. For some odd unexplained reason. However, for some other unexplained reason, James' mind wasn't exactly on his book. His mind was wandering around to a certain redheaded girl whom he loved to annoy.

He hated being a teenager. He hated dealing with these sort of emotions. What was even worse was that the rest of the Marauders now knew too. Oh, James could already see Sirius arching his eyebrows every time he and Lily began to bicker, he could also see the other boy start to laugh as well. Oh this was going to be a long, long year.

"Ow," James muttered, after moving his arm back quickly, forgetting that there was a step being him. "Bugger," He rubbed at his elbow for a moment before he finally looked up, and when he did, he groaned rather loudly, because it was just the thing to do. For it hadn't been a professor who had walked to his sitting place, but a certain Gryffindor Prefect. Oh, lovely.

Prefect's where never his best thing, James had decided. Well, he had decided that back in his first year. He had always done something to get caught by one; never meaning to get caught by one at all, of course. This year, however, was going to be insane. That's all that there was to it. One of his own friends was a prefect, and Lily Evans was a prefect as well. He could have simply murdered himself, only he found that doing that would be just a bit drastic. He was known for causing trouble, not for committing acts of suicide.

However, as he sat on the stairs, staring up into the face of Death, suicide didn't seem like that much of a bad idea. Nothing, in his mind, was worse than the angry wrath of a redhead girl. Namely Lily Evans. Getting up off of the ground at the moment seemed like a very good idea, but he couldn't move. He felt very much like a deer caught in the headlights. Oh, the irony. He groaned inwardly. "Bugger," he groaned again, fighting off the temptation of putting his head into his hands.

Lily narrowed her eyes onto him and stomped over. She wasn't the least bit happy to see the boy, though that really wasn't any different then when she normally saw him. Coming to a stop in front of the boy, she crossed her arms over her chest and looked down at him.

"Where the bloody hell have you been!" She demanded, clearly angry. She hadn't been sitting in class sleeping, she had been taking notes like she was supposed to. Actually paying attention in class was something that she did, unlike James.

Torn between laughing himself to death or making a run for it the boy scrambled up. "Do you want the long story or the short story? Because if you want the long story I suggest you sit down- hang on a moment," James said quickly before pausing to eye the girl. "You cursed. Evans cursed. I think I'm going to faint," he laughed before remembering that he had an angry redhead before him. He snapped his book shut, and glanced behind him. Oh, of all the days that he had to have slept in. Today had to be the day, and by tomorrow he would probably be going home inside of a match box.

Lily, by this time had folded her arms over her chest with her hands clenched into fists. "James Potter - I swear," she hissed under her breath, continuing to glare at the boy. "I'm missing notes because of you!"

James ran a hand through his hair before taking a breath. "Right, so, I was in my bed, yeah? I was sleeping, you know we boys love our sleep. And I slept in. 'Course good ole Pete and Sirius hadn't bothered to wake me up, figured I'd be up by the end of breakfast," he sighed dramatically. He tucked his book under his arm, very tempted to just open it back up, and start reading again. "Well, I woke up. And I woke up late, late for class. So, I decided to get dressed and go to the pitch. Now, as you can see I didn't quite make it to the picth."

The Marauder grinned, slowly inching his way down the stairs, very, very tempted to make a swift run for it. It wouldn't have been a very smart move on his half, he'd admit that much alright, but at least he wouldn't be sent home in a match box. "So, Evans, lovely day, eh? What brings you out of class and into the halls - asking where the hell I've been?"

Amused, James? Oh, yes indeed.

By this point the prefect couldn't help but to stare bewilderedly at the boy in front of her. How he had ever managed to become a Gryffindor in the first place blew her mine. She was more than amazed to learn that he had passed his fourth year. No, she was amazed that he and his group of friends, save for Remus, had made it past their first year. To her utter amazement, however, was that he seemed to be the leader of their so called group of friends. She shook her head as she brought her gaze back down on him.

"Do you plan on going to class then?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because Binns is too old."

"Potter, he's a ghost!"

"Yeah? You know, Evans, I never knew that!"

Lily sighed, shaking her head. "Fine. What will get you to class then, Potter?"

From the moment that question had left the girls mouth she knew that she would regret them. For the answer she would get would be one that she would hear for a very, very long time after. And it all started when James smirked, leaning against the wall behind him.

The boy shrugged, still unable to hold back his smirk. "If you go out with me."