The Twelve Days of Christmas

by Taste of Cinnamon

I have always had a reputation of being a bit uptight. But what’s a girl supposed to do when James Potter shows up on her doorstep dressed in a French Maid’s outfit? Summary inside.

3. The Serenade

A/N:

Once again, thank you to all my reviewers so very very much. I'd do a little jig, but I'd probably break something in the process.

Thank you to laika, Ghostwriter626, I'll Open Your Book, J.E.A.R.K.Potter, and Heaven and Earth for asserting that James does, indeed, wear glasses. Damn it. I had so hoped he didn't. I think what I'll do is go on writing the fic with no mention at all of his glasses (but also not mentioning that he doesn't have any) and you guys can go on picturing him whichever way pleases you. Which, in my case, would be without glasses, but to each his own.

dweem-angel—You're the only one who commented on that, I'm surprised. But she did run off with his boxers, didn't she? Now what does that tell you, eh? ;)

Dead-Luthien—That's an interesting scenario. I might incorporate it somewhere, but it wouldn't be a 'present', because, well, it really isn't, is it? xD

Oh, and before I forget, I'd be much obliged if one of my readers would offer to take a look at something I wrote this week and give me some constructive criticism and tell me if it's worth submitting as a fanfiction. It's a short (or not so short) HarryGinny oneshot with no real HarryGinny moments. You'll see what I mean. Thank you so very very much.

And to everyone else, be on the lookout for that fic, because I'll be most likely posting it either case. It'll be titled "Ginny, I love you." Corny name, I know, but what can I say?

--- --- ---

Chapter 3—The Serenade.

One thing I'll admit about Potter, he does has a nice voice. If only he would use it for something other than trying to seduce me. …Not that I was seduced.

I was sitting at the most secluded desk I could find in the library so as to avoid the accusatory glares of Madam Pince, the librarian. I didn't even actually have anything to feel guilty about. Lily Marie Evans is completely innocent. Yes she is.

Pince's eyes can do that to a person, though. I have no idea how she manages it. I mean, if my eyes could do that, then maybe the Head Girl badge on my robes wouldn't be completely wasted.

Of course, I haven't been entirely traitorous to my title, no. That would be Potter. How the heck did he even become Head Boy in the first place? I mean, sure, he is top in his classes, but come on, not even a troll would call him responsible.

…Although I have been acquainted with some especially stupid trolls.

…And although James does have exceptionally good taste in undergarments.

Crud, there it goes again. I swear, someone must've installed a device or something in my brain, the way it keeps straying off to topics I would certainly never think about. Yes, that's it. Whoever's in there, I know who you are! Or, no, I don't know, but I'll find out! Er…someday.

Dammit, this isn't working. Maybe if I ask nicely.

Please, little voice-entity-device-ish-ness…thing…leave me alone please?

…That may have worked. Except I still think Potter has nice legs. Crud. Gods I hate that little voice thing. It's all its fault that I keep visualizing James in his boxers.

…And that I actually took said boxers from him last night before I stormed off.

James will never let me live that down—that I accepted his underwear. He'll torture me about it forever. And ever. Until I'm old and gray and bouncing grandchildren on my knees.

Not that those grandchildren will also be his grandchildren. Because that would mean…I (or at least the part of me that still belonged to myself) didn't even want to think about what that would mean.

The way I saw it, I had three options if I still wanted to keep my dignity:

Option A: Pack myself in a box with air holes and ship myself off to…I dunno, Scandinavia or something. I could build myself a nice little goat hut in the mountains and live off apple pie. Holy icebergs do I love apple pie.

Then again, do apples even grow in Scandinavia? Does anything even grow in Scandinavia?

Right. We'll scratch that idea then.

Option B: perform a memory charm on James so that he'll forget everything that happened last night. Or everything that happened ever, I'm not picky about how much I scar him. Granted, I have no idea how go about doing a memory charm, but I'm sure I can figure it out while I'm in the snowy wilderness of Scandinavia.

…But I'm not going to Scandinavia, am I? Crud.

So, I'm left with Option C: Kill James.

Oh this will be easy. I can push him into the lake and say someone else did it. I can force feed him poison and hide in a broom closet to watch as the nearest first year is blamed. I can chain him to the bed and…

Er, let's just go with the poison.

I was looking around for a copy of Advanced Potion Making (you didn't think I was lying about poisoning him, did you?) when the door opened, and an extremely haggard looking Remus Lupin strolled in.

I like Remus, really I do. Good guy he is. If it hadn't been for James and Sirius, we'd probably be good friends by now. I had some mixed feelings about the guy but we were generally on good terms, so I gave him a friendly smile. Maybe he could help me poison James. Heh.

"Hello, Lily," Remus greeted as he took a seat across from me.

Oh, so he wanted to have a conversation, eh? I'll give him a conversation. I'll astound him with my conversational skills, I will.

"Morning, Remus. How are you?"

Um…that didn't count. I was just warming up. I was just a bit rusty from two days with nothing meaningful to talk to.

Except James and his boxers, of course.

…Not that I ever talked to his boxers. I meant it hypothetically. Yes.

Fortunately, Remus hadn't noticed my little bout of anxiety. He had glanced out the window at the sky at my question, and was now looking at it worriedly.

Hmm. Strange fellow. He looked like he needed some sleep. We sat there in silence for a few moments, and then he turned back to me.

"So how've you been?" he said quite cheerfully.

Wait a second. He didn't even answer my question. How rude. How thoughtless. How…un-nice! Forget about asking him to help poison James; I'll do it myself. Hmph!

I gave Remus a shrug (because he didn't deserve any better) and returned to flipping through the textbook.

After a moment, he spoke again, and this time his voice was tinged with amusement. "James keeping you busy, eh?" he questioned, grinning.

No, he was certainly not keeping me busy. He was an arrogant pompous prat who didn't deserve my attention.

"I suppose," I replied, shrugging again.

Dammit. Say what you mean Lily.

I really should've gone home for the winter break. But no, I just had to stay and get tortured by Potter and now Lupin too. Life was too good to me, really it was.

Remus shot me a sly smile. "James told me you liked his boxers yesterday. He said you grabbed them and ran away all excited-like."

I was had not been excited-like! I'd just had a spontaneous reaction after what I'd said about Slughorn. …Which I'm not repeating by the way, so there.

"I wasn't excited," I huffed angrily, "it was a reflex."

He smiled at me like he didn't believe me. Dammit. Maybe if I put on an innocent face. How does James do it again? He kind of pulls the corners of his lips down and lift his eyebrows. Yeah, that's it. I'll do that.

I tried to bring the corners of my mouth down and my eyebrows up but it must've come out more like a grimace because Remus looked concerned and a little bit scared.

"Um…Lily?" he said hesitantly, "Are you alright?"

Nodding frantically, I scrunched up my nose.

No wait! No nose scrunching! That doesn't say 'innocent.' I tried to straighten my face again and found that I had lost whatever expression of innocence I had achieved. Crud.

By this time I must have begun to look as if I was badly constipated because Remus had a scared look on his face and was beginning to stand up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box wrapped in silver paper.

"Er, Listen Lily," he said, looking at me nervously, "James told me to give this to you. Said he didn't want to risk castration."

And so saying, he deposited the box in my lap and dashed out of the library.

I sat there, struck dumb, for a few moments and then I shrugged. So what if I didn't manage to pull the innocent look off? Not everyone can have Potter's…er…his un-prowess.

Er…I'll just pretend that makes sense and we can all go on our jolly ways.

It was then that I realized I was still holding the box that Remus had given me. The attached card read:

To: Lily

From: Jamesiepoo

Day Three.

Flipping it over, I saw a nicely engraved and embellished letter "Y" on the back. Interesting.

Carefully setting the small box on the table in front of me (I didn't want to risk touching it if I could help it) I pulled out my wand and muttered a severing charm. The wrapping paper removed itself conveniently and I was left staring at a tiny figurine of a stag.

Oh. A stag. How…nice.

I wasn't disappointed, really I wasn't. Who would think that? No one, that's who, because no one would have reason to assume that I was. Because I wasn't. No, not me. Not Lily Evans. Not…

Er, I should stop now.

Really, it wasn't a bad gift, and it was pretty cute. Regal I mean. Stags aren't cute. They're regal. That's it. And it was decent craftsmanship. It would look nice on my dresser or something like that. I decided I liked this gift.

Then I changed my mind.

Because just as I reached out to touch it, there was a loud pop and the air in front of me filled with a musky purple smoke.

Oh my gawd. I quickly fanned my hands wildly (looking very much like a bad imitation of a windmill, I'm sure) to try to dissipate as much of the smoke as I could, looking hurriedly around to see if anyone had heard the pop. A few had glanced my way. It wasn't me, it wasn't me! I was just sitting here and reading, I swear!

It was then that I looked down and spotted the real object of speculation.

A dwarf was standing calmly beside my chair, waiting patiently for me to look down.

Holy hippogriff dung! What was a dwarf doing here in the library? And why was it looking at me? I swear I didn't have anything to do with the smoke! Well, except touch the stag that had probably set it off, but that's besides the point. I'm innocent, it's James you want!

The dwarf gave a neat little bow and peered at me with his (I judged he was a male from the fact that he had a beard) beady little eyes.

"Lily Evans?" he said in a raspy and none too happy voice.

"Er…Yes."

"Pleased to meet you, miss. I be Odgen"

Odgen. That's such a nice name. And did I mention you're looking quite lovely this, er, morning? That red coat goes so nicely with your complexion, and might I ask, have you lost weight?

…Oh please don't take me away. I'll be good, I promise!

Before I could voice any of my thoughts, however, I was interrupted by a loud screeching.

Ahh! Oh crap. The world is ending! The sky is falling and the dead is rising and the clouds are…erm…not being clouds! Someone save me!

Then I looked at Odgen. He was singing. And apparently the source of the most unpleasant noise.

Oh. A singing dwarf. Oh, well that's okay then. That's just peachy. That's so much better, and while you're at it, why not just rip out my ear drums and use them for Quidditch practice why don't you?

Odgen was singing. Odgen was singing. Odgen was singing. Great, just great. I was turning a bright shade of pink, and might I add, the entire library was staring at me now.

Lily, my Lily (he sang)

You are my one and only,

Your eyes are bowls of jelly,

And my love is far from silly.

Lily, my Lily,

The mountains may be hilly,

And the weeds grow willy nilly,

I'll serenade you with my quill-y

And so it went for stanzas seemingly endlessly. James—for he was definitely the one behind this—must've have racked his brains for words that rhymed with "Lily". I admired his perseverance but decided then and there that he had no future in songwriting.

Let me tell you one thing, though: dwarves don't make good singers. And there's just something fundamentally wrong with having a two foot tall little…bastard compare your eyes to twin bowls of quivery gelatinous confections.

I wanted to die.

No, I'd better rephrase that. I wanted James to die.

But unfortunately I was in no position to make anyone die at the moment. No, instead, and thanks to my dear Jamesiepoo, I had the entire library ogling me and little Romeo here and probably half the school on their way to see what the ruckus was about.

"Um…" I said, raising my voice so as to be heard above the din, "Odgen? T-That was very nice, but, er, would you mind stopping?"

I'd put on something frilly,

If only I could touch my Lily.

"Er, thank you Odgen. I got the message." I pleaded, trying to hush him, "stop now, please?"

Lily sings quite well-y,

Her voice is like a bell-y.

"Odgen—"

And I'd feel quite swell-y,

Like a farmer in the dell-y

"Dammit Odgen, SHUT UP!"

And I grabbed the nearest object I could find (Advanced Potions Making) and hurled it at him with all my strength. It hit him squarely in the chest and he promptly tumbled backwards amidst startled gasps from our spectators.

Oops. Um…I didn't do that. I did not just abuse a not-so-innocent little dwarf. Really I didn't. My hand slipped and I accidentally dropped the book on him, that's it. Please don't be dead Odgen, I didn't mean what I said.

Fortunately, he sat up after a brief silence, rubbing his chest where the book had landed, fixing me with an accusatory glare.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Odgen," I apologized, leaping out of my seat and hurrying to aid him, but he jumped up and brushed aside my hands. He seemed considerably more annoyed, and I didn't blame him a bit.

"Oi'm sorry Miss but 'Oi've been paid to sing to you and Oi intend ta do my job," he said.

And he promptly burst into song again.

Arrgh! You'd think a ten pound potions book in the chest would be enough to stop the little bugger! But no, there he was, singing in his same raspy voice, and, to my horror, doing a little jig to match.

"Miss!" shouted someone over the song, and I turned toward the source of the call. It was Madam Pince, and I don't think I've ever seen her so furious. She rushed over, wand out.

"Miss Evans!" she hissed indignantly, her face turning a nice shade of maroon, "How dare you cause such a disturbance?"

"But, Madam Pince, it wasn't me!" I hurried to explain.

"I don't care if it was Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer," she raged, "I want you out!"

"But—"

Madam Pince pointed a bony finger at the door. "Out. Now!"

Fine. Have it that way. I didn't want to be here in the first place. Clenching my teeth, I scooped up my bags and flounced out the door, Odgen and the sound of laughter following in my wake.

Once safely out of earshot from the library (though I doubted we'd ever be out of earshot, what with Odgen's wailing) I turned to look him squarely in the face.

"Look, Odgen," I began as patiently as I could, amidst cries of Lily, my Lily, "I'm sure you've done enough to earn whatever James is paying you. Now would you kindly leave me alone and go sing to someone else?"

He just continued singing, heedless of my words, and I groaned—although I'm sure no one heard me over the din—and spun on my heel toward the Head Doms.

Oh, James was in trouble. He was gonna get it. There was no way I'd forgive him this time. I had half a mind to stuff him into a box and mail him to Scandinavia, the way I was currently feeling. One way or another, there will be pain.

Hmm…"there will be pain"…That sounded very much like something a comic book villain would say. Maybe I should go audition for a play or something. I could go on tour to America and Wales and…oh who cares about Whales? I'd go to Italy and Japan and…Ahem.

"Tarangetella," I shouted over Odgen's singing as soon as I reached the Head Dorms, and the stone hippogriff swung open to admit me.

Unfortunately, the first thing I noticed when I stepped inside was that James was not there, although the place was littered with confetti and holly wreaths. It looked like someone had been trying to decorate and had failed miserably.

I peered in James' room. Nothing. The bathroom. Nothing. My bedroom. Still nothing. I was beginning to lose my temper.

"JAMES!" I screeched as loudly as I could, hoping that he'd take my cry of anger as a cry of distress and rush to my side. …Not that I admitted that he actually would rush to my side if I were in distress. Because then I would be in more distress. And then there would be distress added onto distress and then where would I be?

I looked desperately around myself and tried to stop myself from grabbing Odgen and stuffing him into the fireplace. Really, it was highly convenient, and the house elves never clean in there anyways. By the time he was found, I'd probably have graduated. It wasn't a bad idea.

Okay, Lily, calm down. I took a deep breath and tried to imagine myself at the beach. Dying prematurely from stress just couldn't be a good thing. Dying prematurely from getting your eardrums ripped out and practically stomped on couldn't be a good thing either.

So. If James wasn't in the Head Dorms, he was probably off practicing Quidditch. Then again, his entire team was off for the holidays. We'll scratch that possibility then.

Maybe he was in the kitchens getting something to eat. Gods knew that boy had a hell of an appetite. Or maybe he was serving detention for something or the other, or…snogging some Ravenclaw in an empty broom closet somewhere.

No. Definitely not. He can't be. I felt slightly numb and dizzy all of a sudden.

…It was the singing, that did it, that's it. I certainly didn't care if Potter was groping some witch in the corridors. It wasn't of my concern. So he'd asked me out every day the last two years, that didn't mean I had any claim on him. Because I didn't.

And so what? It's not like I wanted to have some sort of claim on him. I was just worried about that hypothetical witch that he could be snogging. Does she know how many germs can be living inside the human mouth? It's a disgusting place, really. Not that I would know.

Dammit, Lily, pull yourself together. What happened to the clever little girl you used to be? Stupid James, it was all his fault.

I spent the next twenty minutes searching the school and grounds frantically for Potter, pulling scared looking first years aside to ask if they had seen him and—much to my embarrassment—checking every broom closet or nook I could find. I did happen to see Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Black together in a fourth floor overhanging doing some very, er, interesting things to one another (and I had to scourgify my eyeballs twice afterwards), but there was no sign of Potter.

Needless to say, Odgen's screeching was starting a headache and I was becoming desperate. The way he was carrying on, I was surprised the entire castle didn't come running to see which unfortunate cat was being tortured to death.

Then, after the twenty-first verse of Lily, my Lily, it came to me. The Gryffindor common room. Duh, Lily, what the hell's wrong with you that you didn't even think of that?

Gods I'm helpless. I exited the greenhouse (Greenhouse!) I was searching and made my way up to Gryffindor tower.

I'm sure James heard me even before I'd mounted the steps, the way Odgen was carrying on, but if he had, he did a very good job of acting surprised when I flung open the portrait hole and climbed in, nearly running over a frightened looking second year as I did so.

"POTTER!" I called as the poor girl, a rather chubby blonde, scurried hurriedly away.

He was sitting on a red sofa across from Sirius Black, and was currently engaged in a wizard's chess match with said best friend. He was losing. Quite badly.

James made quite a show of looking around to try and spot the source of the cry before looking at me, smiling, and greeting me with a cheerful, "Hey, Lily, what's up?"

I tried to keep myself from springing on him, the prat. It was his fault I was currently being stalked by a two feet monster with a terrible set of vocals.

No, let me say that again: A terrible set of vocals.

I gestured frantically at Odgen, trying not to look too disheveled and flustered. "Potter," I shouted, "Get him away from me!"

"What?" he mouthed, pointing to his ear and shaking his head in earnest.

I pointed to Odgen. "Get him away from me!"

"What?"

"Make him stop!"

"What?"

Okay. There was only so much a girl could take. The rest of the people in the common room were past staring now, they were ogling me, trying to keep the smirks off their faces and failing. Sirius was laughing uncontrollably and James was grinning like a madman.

Don't lose it, Lily, I told myself, the last thing you want is to cause a scene.

I pointed at Odgen. Then I pantomimed singing as best I could, opening and closing my fingers as an imitation of a mouth. I pointed at James, then swung my arms in what I hoped was an unmistakable gesture of "Stop".

James, however, just stared at me confusedly for a few moments before mouthing the words "I can't hear you." He then held up a hand and suddenly the room was filled with utter, complete, glorious silence.

…The bastard! He'd known what I was trying to say all along! He was just trying to provoke me! …And doing a good job of it.

"Odgen, that'll be all for today, thank you." Potter said politely, pulling out a handful of coins.

The dwarf bowed grumpily, held out his hand for his payment, and was gone in a spurt of purple smoke. I stared at where he had been, stunned.

"So," James said as soon as the smoke had cleared, "There was something you wanted to tell me, Lily?"

My mouth opened and closed in what I'm sure was a fair imitation of a fish. "You…He…What…" I stuttered, then gave up and slumped onto the couch beside him, ignoring the jeers and snide remarks from the various stragglers still in the Common Room.

"So you enjoyed Odgen's little performance, eh?"

I blinked, then regained some of my composure. Was he kidding me? How would he like to be serenaded by a little As…Asterisk?

"Leave me alone, Potter," I muttered, which I admit wasn't quite fair, because I was the one that had searched him out in the first place, but what can I say? He deserved it.

James had the decency to look mildly confused, and his best friend piped up. "I don't think she liked it, Pr—James," Sirius said with a look of mock concern.

"I don't think she liked it either, Sirius."

"But don't feel sorry for yourself. I think you can still salvage this."

They were both grinning widely now. "There is?" Potter said, turning to look Black, "Do tell me."

Sirius pretended to pat his friend comfortingly on the shoulder. "Why James, I was thinking along the lines of…let's say…you singing to her instead."

At this, my heart skipped a beat. James? Singing to me? Gods no. No no nononono. Somebody save me. I sat up, but James had already turned to me, looking plaintive.

"Do you want me to sing to you, Lily?" he asked, while Black grinned behind him, "Would you like that?"

"Er, no, Potter, I—"

But James had already opened his mouth.

---

"…And that's how I found them, Headmaster. Head Boy and Girl, too. I've never seen anything of the like!" Professor McGonagall managed somehow to encompass both James and I in the same glare as she finished, then turned to look at Dumbledore for his judgment.

The Headmaster looked at James and I, who were sitting in velvet armchairs in front of his desk, both looking extremely disheveled, though James looked a good deal calmer than I did. Which…made sense, seeing as how, what with the hundreds of times he'd gotten in trouble over the years, being sent to the Headmaster's office was probably nothing new to him.

I, however, was mortified, terrified, petrified, and all the other "-fied" words that bore some sort of semblance to "scared."

Don't kill me, I thought plaintively, I'll never do it again! I can't help it if Potter is such a great git sometimes. I can't help it if Odgen sings like a banshee. You cant expel me, I'll do anything!

The headmaster, however, merely smiled slightly. "I apologize, Minerva," he said calmly, "I wasn't paying attention. Tell me again why you brought them in here?"

McGonagall looked somewhat taken aback. "Mr. Potter here," she nodded at him severely, "was causing a disturbance. He was singing, no less, and, er, making some very inappropriate bodily gestures to boot."

"Miss Evans, on the other hand"—she fixed me with a glare—"thought it would be amusing to give Mr. Potter the complexion of a—if you don't mind me saying so—a hag."

Er, well, it was the only spell on hand that didn't involve a whole lot of complicated wand movements. And you had to admit James did look better this way.

Well…no, he didn't. He looked better the way he looked normally. Which didn't mean that he normally looked good. It's entirely possible to look better without looking good in the first place.

Er, I mean…nevermind.

"Headmaster, Professor," I began desperately, "I didn't mean to—The jinx just slipped out—There wasn't anything I could…" I trailed off. Damn I sounded pathetic.

Professor Dumbledore ignored my little outburst and turned to examine James, his eyes twinkling with—could it be?—amusement.

"Interesting," he commented lightly, peering at one of the warts I'd given Potter. He turned to me. "Very nice jinx-work, there, Miss Evans."

"Er…thank you?" I stuttered, surprised at his remark. Nice jinx work? What did that mean? That could be a code name for anything! Oh gods I'm going to die!

"Headmaster…" Professor McGonagall said warningly, raising a thin eyebrow.

The headmaster smiled. "Oh, right you are Minerva, do forgive me." He turned to James and me. "I hope you two have released you anger and are ready to be my example-setting Head Boy and Girl again?" he asked of us, although his eyes still twinkled merrily.

To my right, James grinned and put his right hand up to his forehead in a ridiculous looking salute. "Yes, SIR!"

Despite myself, I rolled my eyes. I mean, seriously, here he was, covered in warts and his lip bleeding slightly, saluting the Headmaster for all he was worth. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever be able to understand how this boy's mind works.

…Which is a good thing.

"Good." Dumbledore smiled. "Now, as I'm sure you've gathered, it is Christmas, and it would be uncivil for me to punish you during this happy occasion." He held up a hand to forestall McGonagall's argument, and continued. "I will, however, ask a favor from you."

"Yes sir!" James asserted, but I simply sat there numbly, remembering the last favor I did for a professor. Images of Slughorn swam through my mind and I had to shake my head to keep from retching.

The Headmaster beamed. "Marvelous." He pried open a silver tin and offered it to us.

"Sugarplum?"

I looked at the candied confections he was offering to James and me, and began to think that our Headmaster was losing his mind. "Er, no thanks, Professor," I mumbled.

He took back the tin and carefully chose a large sweetmeat, popping it into his mouth and beaming at us. "The favor I ask is quite simple," Dumbledore told us. "You see, I simply adore lemon drops—a muggle sweet--but seem to have exhausted my last supply during this past week."

I pretended that this had something to do with us. Frankly, I had no idea why Dumbledore was telling James and me this, but by this time I didn't really care anymore. My throat was sore from shouting so much and I think I was severely bruised from launching myself savagely at James on multiple occasions. Needless to say, I just wanted to rest.

"As I am quite busy this time of year, what with caroling and attending Christmas gatherings," Dumbledore continued, "I have had no time to replenish my store of them. And so the favor I ask, Mr. Potter and Miss Evans, is for the two of you to take the train to Essex tomorrow and purchase some more. I will, of course, be providing the money."

By this time, all of us (and this included the various paintings on the walls) were staring at the Professor as though he were mad…and he probably was. McGonagall recovered first.

"But Headmaster," she said hesitantly, "Surely you can just conjure some up..."

The Headmaster only brushed off this idea. "I can never manage to conjure ones quite like the ones they make in Essex," he replied.

Wait, was that a wink? That was a wink. Why was he winking at us? Do I have something on my face?

And, as I was sitting there feeling my face for any foreign substance, looking quite stupid by the way, the Headmaster was giving Potter the directions to the small sweets shop in Essex we were to travel to tomorrow, and before I knew it, James and I were walking back to the Head Dorms along the now dark corridors.

He turned to me when we reached the hippogriff statue and grinned. I began to feel slightly out of breath.

"So, tomorrow, Lily?" James said, muttering the password.

I blinked, then realized he was waiting for my reply. "Er, right," I replied stupidly, feeling that any other answer would've been better than the one I had chosen. Crud.

"Great!" he remarked, then turned around and began to walk away.

"Where are you going?" I called after him, surprised. There had better not really be some girl he was secretly snogging. Because if there was, I'd be very…er, not unhappy.

James turned around. "I know you like a guy who can embrace his feminine side," he called to me, "but these warts are just too much. The ones on my face are alright, but…the other ones are quite uncomfortable."

"Er…"

"I'm going to the Hospital Wing to get them removed, but if it'll make you feel better, I'll wear a dress tomorrow."

And he disappeared down the corridor, leaving me feeling quite alone and trying desperately not to wonder what he meant by "the other ones."

--- --- ---

Oh. My. Gawds. This chapter is so freaking long! I got to six pages and realized that "Oh crud, I'm not even halfway done." Thirteen pages on MS word, it's the longest thing (fanfic or not) I've ever written. I can't admit it wasn't fun to write, though, because believe me, it was. Just…think of it as a Thanksgiving treat!

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands!

(and leave a review saying "Test tubes? What test tubes?" Um, it's an inside joke, is all I can say.)

And thank you much. :)