CHAPTER SEVEN: SURRENDER


17th September, Saturday
Hovering near Lily's Bedside Mirror
Current Activity: Whistling at the top of my voice
Word of the day: Quixotic (Puzzling, such as Lily's strange mutterings)

In which Puck is worried about himself.

Have you ever seen a shower of rose petals, cascading upon the unworthy earth beneath your feet? Have you ever seen scarlet fire, dancing a reel upon snow-covered mountaintops? Have you ever seen the last golden rays of the sunset touching the horizon?

Lily's hair looks just as beautiful. Today she's left it loose, and she's combing it with a faraway look in her eyes, as if she can see anything but the mirror in front of her.

"What am I afraid of?" she said suddenly, startling me out of my reverie. I honestly cannot make out what she means by that. This has somehow become the first sentence she speaks every morning, for the past one week.

"Should I take the leap?" she said again, putting down her comb.

I scratched my chin in utter confusion. What the devil is she on about?

There's another thing that's been troubling me for the past two weeks. My third feeler-- the feeler which acts as a legilimens-- has a numbness in it….A numbness which makes it impossible for me to use it. You see, my feeler is not working properly. And although I can gauge Lily's emotions, I'm not able to read her thoughts. And this is really bugging me.

Normally, when I'm around Lily, I don't have much need of the blasted feeler, because Lily is as transparent to read as water. She never hides her feelings from me, she rarely lies, and she's definitely not a hypocrite. Besides, I know her well enough to understand every meaning behind every action of hers. That is why I never have to employ legilimency against her.

But these quixotic comments of hers, sprung on me out of the blue, are getting on my nerves. As I can't read her mind anymore, I have to compensate for it by poking her incessantly about them. But she merely gives me a smile, just as quixotic as her words, and shakes her long slender forefinger at me.

I'm much too ashamed of my past letter to write another one to my Godmother Hoopoe. But losing my miraculous powers is no laughing matter. I don't know what I'm going to do about this…

"Do you like my earrings, Puck?" she asked me, fingering the emerald orbs carefully, as if afraid that they would break.

I shrugged my shoulders in dismay. How was I going to tell her that those earrings belonged to Emmeline, and that her secret admirer was a kleptomaniac?

But wait a minute.

Lily has seen Emmeline wearing those earrings countless number of times! Doesn't Lily realize that she should be returning them to their dratted owner?

WHY isn't Lily returning those earrings to Emma? Is it because Emma took her blue sweater & hasn't returned it? Or is it because of the fight the two girls had the other day?

Or is it because even my sweet Lily's noble heart has been corrupted by ornament lust?

Lily! Lily! Lily!

Poor girl, she seldom receives such grand gifts, you know. You can't blame her for getting greedy over them.

I suppose I should forgive her for such a trivial sin.


17th September, Saturday
Breakfast in the Great Hall
Current Activity: Sampling a Hot Scone

In which Puck is dutiful but displeased.

Today is a holiday, and so Lily's up much earlier than she is on weekdays.

Sensible, isn't she?

Why, if I had my way, I'd sleep and sleep and sleep, and not even rumours of Potter kissing Lily would wake me up. That's what weekends are for.

It's downright depressing to see her sit here all alone. I mean I know I'm a very good companion to have at all times, but seriously.

Lily's sitting here all alone, with no one to talk to. That's another reason why I should find her a boyfriend as soon as possible.

Ah. My prayers have been heard.

"Hey Lily!" greeted Remus Lupin warmly, taking the empty seat by her. "What's the matter? You look all burnt out."

Remus Lupin, I can safely say, is one of the most understanding and intelligent students at Hogwarts. Very intellectual, that one. And he's the only one in this school who can match Lily's mental wavelength.

He isn't too ugly either, with his sandy brown hair, and kind brown eyes. So what if his hair is already streaked by grays; it looks as if he's just highlighted his hair.

"I'm just tired of all the work that McGonagall has plastered on my list," said Lily, sighing. "What with the late-night patrols and Filch's endless complaints, I'm beginning to wish I'd never been chosen as the Headgirl."

"Don't you even dare wishing something like that," said Remus, shaking his head at her. "I can't imagine anyone but you as the Headgirl. But speaking of hall patrols….Erm, do you think I can skive off duty on the 21st? We are patrol partners that night."

Lily looked at him with her eyebrows raised, and a slight smile.

"On the 21st?" she repeated delicately.

Remus scowled at her, as if surprised she could be so dense. "It's the full moon, and you've always known what happens on the full moon," he snapped irritably at her.

I suppose lycanthropy gives people the right to snap and be rude to others?

"The 21st of September is a lunar eclipse, Remus," she said, looking down into her plate.

Remus spluttered at her dumbfounded. " What-how-are you-I mean-"

"I'm in Astronomy Class, remember?" she said.

He and I both stared at her for a few moments, letting the warmth of her smile wash over us like a Soothing Potion.

"Ahem," someone cleared his throat behind us. "We're not interrupting, are we?" said one Sirius Black, as he plopped unceremoniously into a seat to the left of Lily, without invitation.

Yes, Black. You DO interrupt. You DO irritate. You DO lack manners. Any other questions lurking in your mind?

I wouldn't have minded Black so much, if he hadn't brought along his friend James Potter, his partner-in-crime. Honestly, those two are attached at the hip. Quite the double act!

James Potter was staring to and fro between Lily and Remus, as if suspicious that they were conspiring for his murder (Sigh! If only that was possible!).

"I'm not in the mood for more jokes about chickens," said Lily tiredly, meeting Potter's glance with a strange kind of defiance.

I'm sure, Reader, that you're quite impressed with how I've managed to restrain Lily from moving into the Heads Chamber? It's pretty simple, really.

#1) My Dandruff problems have been a good excuse to keep Lily busy all this while. I keep asking her to shampoo my hair, or oil my hair, or take my temperature, or sing me a lullaby, or make Serenity Potions (Bah!) for me, or knit me caps and socks.

#2) I keep hiding her stuff, for which she keeps on searching and searching and searching. Like her homework, or keys, or shoes, or dress robes, or quills. Good way to keep her busy all round the clock, huh? They do say, "An idle mind is a devil's workshop."

#3) Petunia's letter has been reason enough for her to mope all day, and forget all her anger against Potter in lieu of her misery. So, in a way I'm thankful for Petunia's letter.

#4) I suspect Lily thinks that her secret admirer won't be able to write to her if she moves into the Heads Chamber. Or that he'd be extremely jealous of Potter, and that would just break his poor little kleptomaniac heart.

Do I need to elucidate anymore?

Potter said nothing, and continued to shove pyramids of toast onto his plate. For some reason, he looked very strained, as if he was resisting something that threatened to overcome him any second now.

He was probably afraid of me.

It's hard not to be. Heh. Heh. Heh.

"So, Lilea," said Sirius, pulling out some sort of crooked fork from his robe-pocket. "I need your help with something."

Dream on, Black. And while you're at it, why don't you use the fork to stab your best friend?

"Lilea?" my mistress questioned, her elegant eyebrows raised again.

"Lilea de Cardin," announced Sirius Black with something akin to a smirk, "was a famous artist who pioneered the tradition of Artists' Annals."

Lily suddenly had a massive bout of coughing and wheezing, splattering the dinner table with her pumpkin juice.

"You thought we wouldn't find out?" asked Peter Pettigrew, who was standing behind us, yawning so loudly that you could see that you could see the entire universe between his two chubby cheeks. "You thought we wouldn't find out that this year's award-winner is Lily Gabrielle Evans?"

Well, Peter, that is what she'd thought, and hoped for as well. A fact that had irked me night and day. You see, Lily hates publicity of any kind; she hates being in the spotlight. If she had her way, she'd probably encyst herself in a shell, and never come out. She likes burying her talents, thank you very much. She wasn't like this before, but it all changed last summer.

I suspect Petunia's flamboyant criticism and her survivor's guilt have done something dreadful to her self-respect.

And therefore, I'm glad that someone apart from Lily's secret admirer and me knows about this achievement for hers. Even though it's the mayhem-making Marauders.

"How did you guys know about that?" asked Lily finally, blushing like anything.

"My mother works at the London office of Artists' Annals," said Peter, blowing into his handkerchief, and wiggling his nose like a rat afterwards. I wonder what is it about Peter Pettigrew that makes Lily say that I look like him? Because, I'd just love to disagree.

"Belated congratulations, Lily," said James Potter in a tight, nonchalant voice.

Stupid prat! If he'd already known that Lily had won the award, why didn't he congratulate her before? Belated congratulations are no congratulations, at all.

"You said you wanted my help," said Lily, ignoring Potter and looking sideways at Sirius.

Sirius was unfazed by this abrupt change in the topic. Indeed, he seemed to have expected it.

"As you're aware, I'm a proud member of the Muggle Studies Elite group," said Sirius, alight with glee.

Yes, Black. Of course, we're all aware of your favourite subject. Considering that you give free lectures on the topics of electricity, coffee machines and motorbikes every Sunday to all who'd care to listen.

"Continue," said Lily.

"I need your help in making the circuit of an air-conditioner," said Sirius, looking very hopeful and handsome.

Air conditioner? The muggle eklektic device whose blades I've often broken? The device that causes much pollution and makes me nostalgic about the Swiss Alps?

Potter, who had hardly looked up from his breakfast (the glutton!) all this time, snorted loudly. "Give up, Padfoot," he said. "You can't do it."

Sirius glared at his best friend. "You're not the only one who's got an 'Outstanding' in Muggle Studies, you know. I'm one of the Elite as well."

FIFTY-FIVE FLIP-FLOPPING FLAMINGOES!

Potter got an OUTSTANDING in Muggle Sudies?

Yeah, right.

I suppose he plays the bagpipes, too?

"I'll help you," said Lily, loudly, and Sirius looked at her with a fondness I hadn't seen in years. "But I have a condition."

Remus chuckled merrily. "All the world's but give-and-take."

"You must surrender those Fart-bombs to Filch," said Lily, trying and failing to look stern.

The Marauders burst out laughing.

"And is that all?" asked Sirius with a dramatic clutch at his heart, "You could've asked me for my life, and I wouldn't have said no."

Lily frowned at him in surprise. "I'll save that request for better times," she said, the corners of her lips twitching. "So, Wednesday at eight suit you?"

Sirius nodded his head vigorously. "Deal," he said.

Potter was now busy eyeing Sirius with a murderous look, a look that made him appear very much like a Chimaera, but Sirius only winked at him. There was something going on that I couldn't quite catch….

"So, where's the rest of your gang?" asked Remus, taking a sip out of his tumbler.

"Oh, busy here and there," said Lily, trying to look unconcerned.

Hmph.

Being busy means that—

#1) Hestia Jones will be snoring into her pillows all day
#2) Jane will be catching dragonflies with her brother all day
#3) Emmeline Vance will be dating all day.

But I'm sure you must have guessed that by now.

"So you're left all alone?" blurted Peter, and immediately looked apologetic.

"No, Peter," said Lily, smiling at him. "Just left single."

Not single too long, if I can help it.

There was a clatter, as Potter's goblet fell to the floor, and rolled away.

If only had a bloody camera, I'd have captured Potter's face in a flash. He looked electrified for some reason, his hair covered in tatters of his muffin (Don't ask me how), and his shirt drenched with juice. Oh, yes. Such a photograph would have been a toothsome delight for my darling Lily's grandchildren.

Let me make the picture complete.
Let me paste the marmalade on Potter's baboonish face.

"PUCK!"


17th September, Saturday
Peacock Street, Hogsmeade
Current Activity: Strolling with Lily in Peacock Street
Word of the day: Crab (Hard outside, soft inside McGonagall)

In which Puck pinches McGonagall's arm.

One day when I become rich and famous, I'm going to erect my own statue in the middle of Hogsmeade and call it Puck's Street.

Meanwhile, I have to tread along a silent, dilapidated road that's been named after a peacock, just because all the buildings around here have been painted blue.

I was enjoying the rich smell of the freshly soaked earth, and humming a fairy folk tune, when Lily said to me—

"Puck, did you know that Amelia Bones too wants to join the Department of Mysteries? She's interested in doing research as well, just like me. She asked me yesterday if we could have a small study-group of our own…. I said I'd think about it. What's your opinion?"

I twirled about in the air, which meant, "I dunno, Lily. You could give it a try."

Lily nodded. "Yes, Amelia seems a nice girl. And though she's a sixth-year, she knows more than me already."

Know more than Lily? Know more than the girl who can differentiate between the Fortuestia and Parageina Schools of Magical Philosophy?

Stuff and nonsense, I say.

"Say, Puck," she said, "Isn't that Professor McGonagall over there?"

If I hadn't been such a smart observant pixie, I could never have made out that the bundle of gingham seated on the street-bench was Minerva McGonagall.

Who is Minerva McGonagall, you ask?

She's a thin and tall authoritarian with a tight bun of hair and a long pointed forefinger, who believes it's more important to be pleased than to please. And did I also add that she has absolutely no lips and a heart of stone?

No, I don't like her much. Even though she is the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.

She's barely taught ten years here, but she behaves as if she owns the place. She is always suspicious of me, and eyes me as if I was some sort of alien from outer space. She never remembers my name, and exclaims wonder that a sweet girl like Lily should own a 'sinister pet' like me. Lets not forget the fact that she's given me 2385 detentions (locking me up in a closet) by now -- a 'punishment' with which Lily heartily agrees.

And so, when I saw that she was sobbing bitterly on a bench in a deserted locality, I hardly felt any compassion for her. She rarely paid attention to my sobs during the detentions, when I repeatedly tried to tell her that I couldn't possibly live through 12 hours without seeing my dear Lily.

"Umm, Professor?" said Lily timidly, putting a gentle hand on McGonagall's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

McGonagall looked up, her cheeks patched and her eyes all blotchy. Indeed, she looked but a ghostly shadow of her former self.

"Oh, hello Lily," said McGonagall, taking a mad swipe at her crocodile tears. "How are you, dear? Taking a stroll, are you? I see you've brought Pookey along, too."

PUCK, by thunder, Malicia McDonagall! The name's PUCK! Not POOKEY!

Lily said nothing, but kept looking at the old demon with something like a "You can't fool me" look.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" tried McGonagall again.

"Not for all of us, Professor," said Lily, and McGonagall broke into a fresh surge of tears.

I was under the impression that age makes you stronger and makes you immune to tears. But here, the case is entirely different. Minerva McGonagall, who is older than Lily by half-a-century, is being comforted by her student.

Fiddle Dee and Fiddle Dum.

Lily never murmurs such cooing words into my ears.

"Shhh, Professor," said Lily, gently stroking McGonagall's rough, fizzy hair. "Its OK to show feelings once in a while…. After all, you're human, too. Whatever it is that's troubling you, it won't last. You'll see, everything will work out just fine."

McGonagall recoiled with a vehement shudder. "I'm not human! I'm…. I'm made of stone! I'm a terrible, terrible person!'

Now, now McGonagall…Don't be so hard on yourself. You're not made of stone; you're just made of ice.

"Who has been filling such nonsense in your head?" asked Lily, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Has someone hurt you? Did—"

"I'm only saying what everyone else does," said McGonagall, shaking her head like an eight-year old girl, her hair-bun askew.

She's only repeating what others say? So, McGonagall's a parrot? Interesting. I thought her Animagus was a cat.

"All the students curse me for being so strict with them," said McGonagall. "They curse me for giving them so much homework, they curse me for the way I look, they curse me for giving them detentions. They call me 'The Beast' behind my back. I heard a group of them talking about me today. None of the students seem to like me."

Well, I can't say they were very far from the truth. But they were probably Slytherins, anyway.

"I like you," said Lily sincerely, and McGonagall gave her a disparaging look.

"Look, Professor, a couple of students don't make up the entire school! Why, not even Professor Dumbledore has universal appeal!
You may be a bit strict; but you're the most honest and just teacher in the entire school. Your sense of fairness, your law-abiding attributes--- they are the reason why you're the Deputy Headmistress of a great school like Hogwarts.
And as for you being a Beast, well, that's just bollocks! Nothing can be further from the truth."

"But all the students…they seem to be so afraid of me," said McGonagall, sniffing.

Lily shook her head. "They're not afraid of you, Professor, they are in awe of you."

I'm not sure whether McGonagall smiled or not; her lips looked less thin, anyway.

"You must think I'm so silly?" said McGonagall. "Crying like this for such a paltry reason…."

"Not at all, " said Lily. "I had an intuition that the cause was something like this. Nothing else could upset a strong person like you. Actually, you remind me of my Grandmother. She too was of the Cancer sun sign, just like a crab. Stern and upright outside, but with a soft, kind interior."

"Now that's a very nice thing to say," said McGonagall, taking a hold of Lily's hands.

"It's the truth," said Lily, now smiling.

"Thank you, dear," said McGonagall, patting Lily's chin. "Your words meant a lot to me. But are you quite sure you didn't say them just to flatter me?"

"What will I get out of flattering you, Professor?" asked Lily, giving a wide smile. "I know you're not gong to examine my NEWTs."

Cheeky, isn't she? Yep, that's my Lily.

Even McGonagall burst out laughing. "That reminds me, though. I've to discuss the Career Counseling Classes with James and you. I'd put up the schedule on the Notice Board of the Heads Chamber. Did you see it?"

Uh. Oh.

Lily squirmed uneasily. "Er, Professor," she mumbled. "Umm…I'm not residing in the Heads Chamber, but in the seventh year girls' dormitory—"

"I see," said McGonagall, raising her hand. Already so soon, she was back to her Closed Clam Mode.
"I'm well aware that you and Mr. Potter don't get along very well, but this is the height of immaturity! I don't care what excuses you may have. The fact remains that you're the Headgirl, and the Headgirl must stay in the Heads Chamber. It has been so in the past, and it must remain that way. You will shift to your proper room at once, Miss Evans."

I hope you registered the renewed use of Lily's surname.

"But Professor…." Began Lily. "This is the last year—"

McGonagall cut her off again. " Make sure you're there when I come to check the next morning. By the way, your Puckipsie ran off with Professor Flitwick's walking stick again. Tell him to give it back."

My name is PUCK!

PUCK! PUCK! PUCK!

Not Pookey or Puckipsie or Puckadoodle or Peckingie or Poopie or any other name that you may deign to invent!

I don't care what Lily's shouting at me! I don't care what embarrassment this may cause her!

I cannot possibly forgive McGonagall for commanding Lily to move in with that Potter!

I'm just going to pinch McGonagall so hard that she's going to carry this bruise for the rest of her crabbish life.


17th September, Saturday
Gryffindor Common Room
Current Activity: Shaking with rage

In which Lily scolds Puck.

"I hope you're ashamed of yourself!" Lily was rebuking me. "Why must you make a public spectacle out of me everywhere I go? You completely ruin my reputation! You tease Mrs. Norris. You hang out with Peeves. You fling plates and books at anyone who annoys you for the slightest of reasons. You pester the teachers, you're constantly harassing James Potter—"

"Someone mention my name?" said James Potter, emerging from behind the armchair near the fireplace.

"You!" cried out Lily, flushing to the roots of her hair, and resembling an over-ripe tomato. "I thought you were still in Hogsmeade!"

"Hogwarts has many secret passages," said the relentless Potter, shrugging casually.

I had a feeling that the word "unfortunately" was hanging in the air.

"So, Lily?" said Potter, again, when Lily had resumed glowering at me. "Ready to march to the Heads Chamber? Or have you forgotten my challenge? It's been over two weeks now. But I'm sure, McGonagall's orders can never go unheeded."

Lily clamped her eyes shut, but Potter remained oblivious to her displeasure.

"Remember to pack your mothball's socks as well, " he said, chortling.

COAGULATING CAULDRONS OF CLIODNA!

Did he just call me a MOTHBALL? You SNITWIT! DIMWIT! NITWIT!

I demand an apology, you hear that Potter? An APOLOGY, do you hear?

My fury already at a temperature of 367 degrees, I charged at him to pinch his nose. But alas! He caught me by the scruff of my neck, and flung me away rolling.

"Merlin's beard, Lily!" he said, as Lily rushed over to pick up my exhausted body from the other side of the room. "Even a bludger's more difficult to dodge than your little buddy!"

First he compares me to an IMP, then to a MOTHBALL, and now a BLUDGER?

What am I going to do with you, POTTER?

All right, tyrant, all right… It's your time now.
Call me names, mock me as you like, but I and nobody else will have the last laugh.


17th September, Saturday
Gryffindor Girls Dormitory
Current Activity: Fuming in cold silence

In which Puck abandons her whom he loves best.

I'm still waiting for Lily to apologize to me. Why should she apologize to me?

#1) She scolded me.
#2) She scolded me for harassing James Potter.
#3) She scolded me in Potter's presence.
#4) She didn't fight with McGonagall for ordering her to move in with Potter.
#5) She didn't fight with Potter for insulting me.

But is Lily ashamed of her behaviour towards me? Not one whit.

She's only interested in fiddling with her Head Girl badge.

That's the eighth time she's pinned it on. Only to unpin it again!

Nine. Pins. Unpins.
Ten. Pins. Unpins.
Eleven. Pins. Unpins.

What the devil does she think she's doing?

I can't even take that badge and stomp on it, because its been cursed with the Intruderblast Jinx.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, apparently having pricked her thumb.

DOODLES ON DANGLING DIAPERS!

I can't even stay angry with the girl for long. One little scratch on her lovely skin, and I just melt! Why am I so stupid?

So, instead of ignoring her and chucking stuff at her, I'm sucking her thumb.

" Oh, Merlin!" she said. "What am I going to do, Puck? Should I move into the Heads Chamber? Will that be wise? But then there's Potter too…. And if I don't move in, McGonagall will know. And when McGonagall knows, she'll be angry. Oh whatever should I do?"

No, no. Say NO, Lily. Say NO. It comes so naturally to you.

Say NO, Lily.

I'm begging you on my bended knees.

She slumped to the bed, looking completely devastated.

"There's no way out," she said miserably. "I WILL have to shift to the Heads Chamber. I cannot escape it. I MUST take the leap."

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I grabbed my ears, trying to block the sound of Lily's downfall.

"Yes, I must," said Lily emphatically.

I reacted in only one way possible. I threw her shoebox at her, followed by the pillow, the Transfiguration Book, the calendar and the painting-kit.

Fine! Fine, be obstinate! Go to HEADS ROOM, go to BLOODY TOWER, go to HONOLULU, and go to VLADIVOSTOK, for all I care! But you'll be on your own, remember! I'm not coming and that's' FLAT! And when I say NO, I mean NO!

And giving her hair a very nasty yank, I raced off.


17th September, Saturday
The Astronomy Tower
Current Activity: Fuming in cold silence
Word of the night: Jaywalker (careless pedestrian, like James Potter)

In which Puck likes what he hears.

The last time I had been banished from Lilydom, I had taken refuge in Peeves' s dingy cobweb-ridden chandelier. And it had given me a severe dandruff problem. So this time, I'm residing in the Astronomy Tower, listening to the constant clashing and clanging of the Bloody Boring Baron. Why Peeves should be afraid of him is a complete mystery to me.

Apparently, the Baron and the other Ghouls of the Astronomy Tower have decided to strike up a band. They have even thought of a name. "The Blood Brigade", it's going to be called.
Don't ask me why, but they believe that their gramophone record will be the next biggest thing after Chocolate Frogs.
Hmm…I'm beginning to think that Azkaban would make an ideal holiday spot for me.

Suddenly, I heard a creaking sound, which meant that the door to the Astronomy Tower had been opened.

Curious, I looked down from the top of the flag post.

Woes betide me that those four loons ever took birth.
The Marauders.
And their name should be enough to tell you what their only goal in life is.
Maraudering.

Seeing that unruly mop of hair on James Potter's head is enough to make me helpless with fury. But this time, I'll eavesdrop on them to learn what they are up to. They may be hatching a plot to call me further names.

Like Drooping Fruit, or something similar.

For some reason (probably to rub salt on my wounds), James Potter was looking fabulously elated, and was doing an awkward ballet along the rickety railing.

That's another thing I dislike about him. He has absolutely no sense of responsibility, not even caring for his own life! The dangerous JAYWALKER!

"So, the chicken's finally given in, huh?" said Sirius Black, laughing at Potter's childish antics. (Potter gave a loud war hoop here.)

"Well begun is half done, as Professor Vector says," said Remus, leaning against a nearby wall.

Black snorted loudly. "Fat chance! The way Prongs is always staring at her, it'd be enough to creep anyone out."

Ha! I knew James Potter was a Cannibal. He stares at every girl, to creep her out. Just like he hexes others and then boils them over toad-slime to make a pickle out of them.

The juvenile delinquent that he is, James Potter shrugged and said, "I can't help it, you know I can't. She's so utterly mesmerizing, its as if an invisible force wants me to imprint her image in my memory forever…And her eyes? Oh, GOD! How is it possible? How can anyone have such big eyes? —"

There was a collective groan at this, and Sirius smacked his forehead, saying, " And now, my lovesick bard is going to drone on and on about her, till we all faint…"

"You know," said Peter Pettigrew, looking far too wise for his size, "When I first saw her on the train, it was like some blinding light had met my eyes…. Like a hundred cameras attacking me…She has that effect on people, leaves you completely…what's the word…umm?"

"Dazzled?" offered Remus gently.

"Yeah!" said Pettigrew, looking quite relieved that Remus, at least, had good vocabulary.

"She's too nice to be true," said Sirius Black, shaking his handsome head. "Its almost painful how much she believes in others, how free from malice and ill will she is. Such goodness shouldn't be allowed to exist; its bound to be shattered sooner or later."

"She was the first one to find out about my lycanthropy," said Remus, "and I haven't forgotten how kind she's always been to me…. Helping me with her notes and stuff…. Supporting me always…."

"I really, really like her," said Peter solemnly. "She always helps in my studies."

"Who doesn't like that girl?" snapped Sirius. "Very brave, very witty. And I haven't forgotten how she helped Remus and me reconcile after the Whomping Willow episode."

Sirius had spoken the Forbidden Words, for though Remus Lupin smiled, there was a bitterness to it that I'd never seen there before.

If I may say so, Remus Lupin has changed greatly over the past one year.

That one night, and it changed his outlook in life completely.

Earlier, it had seemed that he'd put Potter and Sirius on some high unreachable pedestal, which was too sacred to even talk about. But that accursed night, and I still remember Remus' s words… saying that he'd "forgotten Potter and Sirius were human too, after all." And saying that even "friendship is corruptible."

I never want to hear those words again for as long as I live.

"My mother likes her, too," said Peter, as if that settled the matter. "We couldn't have chosen better."

Potter looked an odd combination of a smile and a scowl. "We?" he gasped. "We couldn't have chosen better? I'd like to inform you that I don't wish to share her with either of you."

Sirius guffawed loudly. "Relax, Prongs," he said. "None of us can ever dare to go crushing on your girl. We all know what a hard punch you are capable of donating to noble causes—"

Remus burst out laughing, a laugh that sounded too hearty to be real.

"I don't know why you three accuse me of being so hung up on her, when you're all obviously doing the same," grumbled James Potter.

"Well," said Remus slyly, "at least WE don't want to snog Lily."

Lily?

As in…Lily Evans?

Have my brains gone radioactive? Have my ears gone noodled?

NOW, it all fits!

James Potter still fancies Lily, and still wants to snog her!

And all this while, I'd been thinking he'd given up on her! Or so he'd said at the beginning of the sixth year in a very loud, obnoxious voice to all who'd care to listen.

Corruption runs in the veins of James Potter. Apart from blood, that is. Why! He's all lies and deceit, from HEAD to TOE.

OOH LA LA! Now, I've got you, James Potter! You BASHI BAZOUK! Now I know just the right way to get back at you for insulting me! You COCKROACH EXCRETA!

He won't know what hit him. He will RUE the day he ever dared to MOCK ME!

James Potter, you're going down

Heh. Heh. Heh.

What a shame. He was starting to grow on me.


17th September, Saturday
Current Activity: Traipsing to the Headgirl Chamber

In which Puck comes back to Lily.

I flung open the door to the Headgirl Chamber with all my might, and took my entry with all the grace and attitude of a Monarch Cornish pixie. I was feeling the extent of my powers tonight. I was the Devil, the Death incarnate.

Lily was there by the windowsill, humming the tune of Celestina Warbeck's "A Pocketful of Pixies". Poor thing, she was probably mourning my loss.

I didn't make a sound, but perched down on her shoulder, and gave her ear a squeeze.

"So you've come back, Puck?" she whispered, taking me into her palm. "And you've forgiven me, too?"

I harrumphed, and slashed my tail against her cheek.

Bah! Did you imagine for a moment that I'd let a young whippersnapper like you go off alone? NOT ON YOUR LIFE! I suppose you think that Captain Puck's got tomato juice in his veins, eh? NOT ON YOUR LIFE! When I've said I'm going to protect you for the rest of your life, it means I will. You can't get rid of me, ever! NOT ON YOUR LIFE! And when I say YES, I mean YES!

"I'm glad you're back, Puck," said Lily, holding back my tail, so I wouldn't hit her again.

I'm glad I'm back, Lily.

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I'm not very pleased with this chapter, b/c I think I wasn't able to put much humour into it. But I've put in fluff to compensate, I guess?

I hope many of your doubts been cleared – lotrqueen451, anna? More will be revealed in due course.

The next chapter will be based on Lily's first suitor. Can you guess who that will be? It's a character from the Quidditch Worldcup in the Goblet of Fire. Let your imagination run wild. Tell me who you think it is.

Please review. Or I won't update for the next 3 months.

Dr. Fawkes