Disclaimer- I've said it before, and I'll say it again. I don't own it!

Chapter 5: Hangover. . .

Previously: Within two seconds the crowd was looking at Lily, fearful and silent, forgotten food dripping from them and from the walls. They watched as she licked and wiped the jelly off her face, watched, scared, as her eyes, softer now, crinkled up, and were astounded when she started to laugh, so out of breath that she had to lean on the wall for support, completely hysterical.

As soon as she had her breath back she said, hiccoughing slightly, 'Jelly is Good.'

Lily woke up the next morning with her head aching and her hair rumpled. There was a smell of stale alcohol on the air. Ugh. Stale alcohol smelt uncannily like stale underpants. She groaned. Thank goodness it wasn't a school day! The image crossed her mind of her turning up half an hour late for Transfiguration with the blotchy skin, bags under her eyes and god-awful hair she was currently experiencing, Professor McGonagall's eyebrow raised in disapproval. She shuddered at the very thought. However, this was thankfully not the case. She had plenty of time to wash her hair, have a long, relaxing bath and find some headache potion.

As Lily moved to prop herself up on her elbows, she felt a sharp stab of agony across her forehead. She groaned again. 'Headache' didn't even cover it. It was right between the eyes, and hurt like hell. She must have been absolutely smashed last night. At first, she hardly remembered anything, but when she delved back into the recesses of her brain, she found that it all came tumbling out, unnervingly clearly.

She started to untangle her memories, and lay back down again. She turned to her bedside table for her hairbrush, so she could brush her hair while thinking. But it wasn't there. Instead there was a bottle of… aftershave? Hang on! This wasn't her bed! She looked around and realised she was in the boys' dorm!

No wonder it smells of alcohol and underpants, she thought, surveying the mess on the floor. It was a pigsty – no, that was an insult to pigs. At least they didn't sleep in their own filth; they made a toilet corner in their sties for all the muck. She sighed. If only the same could be said of seventeen year old boys.

She quickly got out of the bed and hugged herself. Whose bed had she slept in? Please Remus Lupin, please Remus Lupin! He struck her as the most hygienic of the group, and the one least likely to tease her.

She tiptoed the end of the bed. There, "J. Potter" was engraved on a small brass plaque. Shocked, she looked back to the bed; checking no-one was in it. No, no-one, thank the Lord. She then looked around, and there on the floor was James Potter, fast asleep, thumb in mouth.

She gazed down at his sleeping form and felt her heart melt. She actually felt it, cheesy as it sounded. He was so sweet sometimes that it was hard for her to remember what a complete idiot he could be when he wasn't on his best behaviour, when he wasn't actively trying to impress her. He became so insufferable, so full of his own importance.

Lupin had told her she brought out the best in James, and she didn't doubt it. He could be so romantic, and the way he kept going in his mission to win her heart in the face of adversity, hostility and angry shouting spoke of a determination and grit that would be admirable in other circumstances. Definitely qualities she would look for in a boyfriend. The other side of his nature, though, was...

She sighed. Perhaps the responsibility of being Head Boy would sort his head out a bit. She wanted... what did she want? Well, she wanted to get to know the James Potter behind the prank-playing, Quidditch-winning, girl-charming farce that was his life whenever she wasn't around. He tried to convince her that he loved her, but all the while he behaved like a person with the emotional depth of a mint. And not even a peppermint, but vile spearmint.

She sighed again. She found she did that a lot around Potter. It was incredibly sweet of him to let her sleep on his bed. Suddenly a horrible thought struck her, and she quickly looked around the room. No-one else was there, which was a relief. She didn't know if she could have stood the days, weeks, perhaps even months of teasing she would have had to endure if she'd been spotted in James Potter's bed by any of his friends, well, except perhaps for Peter, let alone if her own friends knew about this particularly compromising situation.

She knelt down to wake James up, as common manners dictated that it was proper to thank him for letting her sleep in his bed, and she would rather tell him now than leave a note or speak to him in public. A note could be interpreted in any number of ways, and she didn't want there to be any ambiguity on this particular subject. As for speaking to him in public, the Hogwarts grapevine would have him proposing and her pregnant before she could count to four.

As James woke up a lazy grin spread across his face. Lily found herself tensing, ready for any vile remark he might make. But none came.

Stiffly, she said, 'Thank you. For letting me. Sleep. In your bed. James. I mean, Potter.'

'That's quite alright,' he answered smoothly, and with the grin still on his face he almost set Lily's hackles rising before she detected a hint of nervousness on the edge of his voice, 'But don't you want to know how you came to be there?'

He smiled, the grin having faded. Lily nodded, blushed, and then laughed at herself.

'Well, yes, but I'm not sure my nerves could stand to hear all the gory details right now. Spare me a little?'

'Take a pew, my bed is at your service,' replied James, raising his eyebrows playfully. Normally, that would have been enough to set Lily's temper off, but she didn't think she could get angry at him right now, not after waking up in his bed like that.

'James!' Lily gasped, 'I said spare me gory details! You have no idea just how embarrassed I am right now.'

'Fair damsel, do not feel shame at using your knight's services,' replied James, doing a small role-play of a knight in shining armour.

Lily rolled her eyes, and said, "If you insist." James smiled at her, and Lily shook her head. 'If you insist,' she said again, 'I'll, er, "take a pew".' She sat on the bed and crossed her legs, bouncing slightly on the bed. 'But as it is a grand size; I request my noble knight do the same.'

She smiled at him coyly, batting her eyelashes rapidly as a princess would do to her knight after he had rescued her from a fierce dragon, and he bowed to her, looking up proudly and striking a heroic pose, as the knight would. They held the eye-contact for about seven seconds, the longest seven seconds of Lily's life, and then they both started choking with laughter.Sirius Black came into his dorm later that morning, and was met with such an unlikely sight he had to rub his eyes and look again. It was Lily and James, sitting companionably on James' bed, talking, gesticulating and laughing.

Later on, Lily felt pleased, because she had actually had a good time with James. She knew that she had a soft spot for him, despite his occasional pig-headedness, but he didn't. She wasn't ready to cross that bridge yet, and she was pleased to just sit and talk with him.

When she had finally washed her hair, and had her long bath, she went into her dorm to talk to her friends. She was clean; hearing about other peoples' mad escapades would take her mind off her memories of the previous nights' events. They were as clear as crystal now, and she really didn't want to have to think about them, especially as her headache had come back.

Please review, even if you haven't on the other chapters and aren't going to again. Just…I dunno, tell me something you liked about this chapter, this fic, or jelly.

Larka :)