I couldn't help it. I was angry. I was mortified. I was ready to stand on a podium in the middle of the Great Hall and scream "POTTER AND HIS CRONIES DID THIS!" …but, obviously, I couldn't. Not with Moony Washisface's eyes on me, following my every move. I wanted to march up to him and punch his bloody lights out. I mean, how dare he outsmart me?

And you know what the really annoying thing was? I couldn't say one bleeding thing about it. Not one…effing…thing. I was apoplectic with rage. (Yeh-hes, Lily! Big word! Go me!)

And I was hungry, because, thanks to Potter and Company, breakfast was being missed that day due to obvious problems. And trust me, a Lily who has missed her morning coffee is an angry Lily.

So it wasn't surprising that Marlene flinched when she saw my thunderous face move towards her an hour later, outside Transfiguration. "What's wrong?" she asked instantly.

"Nothing," I replied darkly, as we all lined up outside McGonagall's classroom.

"Oh, come off it, Lily! The last time you had a face like that was when you had PMS last month and you discovered I'd eaten all your chocolate…"

Someone behind us sniggered, and I felt my face flare up. "Thank you for that!" I snarled at Marlene, who only grinned inanely back. Merlin, just wait until she had PMS. I would tie her to a chair and eat all of her chocolate in front of her face…

"So tell me what's wrong!" she goes, all concernedly, trying to link her arm into mine. "Is it anything to do with whatever happened in the Great Hall?"

"You might say that," I replied stiffly, shaking her arm free of mine. You might well say that indeed.

Before Marlene could make any more of her helpful (ha!) comments, McGonagall opened the door and snapped at us to come inside. Her hair looked dreadful. Guess she didn't get her morning coffee, either. I tried to give her a sympathetic smile as we all filed past her, and her bulging eyes glared at me.

"What are you smirking at, Miss Evans?"

"N-nothing!" I stuttered out in reply, startled.

"Well get a move on then! Go on! In! And tuck your shirt in!"

What is her obsession with tucked in shirts, for crying out loud! Growling, I stomped over to my usual place next to Marlene, only another ringing command fromThe Crazed One stopped me in my tracks. "Just a second, Miss Evans! There has been a slight change in the seating plan."

I stared at Marlene, who shrugged back at me. What was she talking about? Seating plan? We don't HAVE a seating plan. Confused, I turned around and looked quizzically at the messy-haired McGonagall, who immediately eyeballed my loose shirt. I hastily drew my robes around myself. "What do you mean, Professor?" I asked as politely as I could.

She glared at me all the same. "Swap seats with Mr Black please!"

I looked blankly at her. "Change places with Black?" I revolved slowly on my toes and caught sight of Marlene's horrified face. Looked like she would have to put up with Black for a while. But who was I destined to sit next to? Praying it was no-one horrible, I found Black's dark haired head and looked at the person sitting next to him.

Oh, for God's sake. Not him AGAIN!

"Professor!" I cried, whirling back around and gazing imploringly at McGonagall, "I can't sit next to him, I'm sorry, but I can't! Please let me remain where I am!"

I swear her nostrils went white. "I'm sorry, Miss Evans," she hissed, her eyes steely, "But who is the teacher in this classroom?"

"Professor, I didn't mean it li - "

"DON'T ANSWER BACK, GIRL! SIT WHERE I TELL YOU TO! THIS IS MY CLASSROOM, AND I WILL BE RESPECTED!"

"ALRIGHT, KEEP YOUR WIG ON!" I didn't yell back at her, but I damn well wanted to. Almost crying with rage, I made my way over to Black and Potter, and addressed Black's eyebrow. The pair of them was in fits of silent laughter.

"I have to sit here," I mumbled, resolving to kick him in the balls if he daredmake any kind of fuss. "Move."

Surprisingly, he didn't say a word as he scooped up his bag and walked over to Marlene, but I saw his face as he passed me. I sincerely hoped he wet himself, I thought savagely as I sat down in Black's vacated seat. Potter lounged back in his chair and sighed "Good God" as I put my books and quill on the table with shaking hands. Trying to ignore him, I added my ink-bottle to my desk, then slammed my bag on the floor and gazed intently at the black board.

Potter, however, clearly wasn't looking for an easy life. "Blue ink," he commented, picking up my ink bottle and twirling it round in his fingers.

"Oh, well done," I snarled back, snatching it away from him. He quirked an amused eyebrow at me.

"No need to be rude."

"No need to touch my stuff!"

"Miss Evans, DO BE QUIET!"

Shockingly enough, that wasn't Potter, but a very pissed off looking McGonagall. Snapping my neck back around I stared at her, totally appalled at the un-fairness of it all. I mean, for God's sake, couldn't she SEE Potter talking as well? Or were her glasses set on Lilyvision today, so she could only see me?

I hated her. I hated this class. But most of all, I hated Potter.

As the class settled down and quiet fell over most of us, McGonagall strode up to the front of the class, her hair looking like a birds nest gone wrong. She gave no sign she knew about that, however, as she slammed her briefcase down on her desk, ripped a piece of chalk out of its packet and stood holding it like a sword as she surveyed all of us. Then she gave a snort through her long, white nose and chalked up on the board: "REVISION: ANIMAGI"

Out the corner of my eye, I saw Potter smirk and fidget slightly. God knows why.

"Seeing as you will be sitting your OWLs at the end of this year," snarled McGonagall at us, spraying spit all over the front row, "We will be going over human transfiguration again." She glared at us as though daring someone to protest. ("No, Professor! I refuse to revise human transfiguration!") "Who can tell me what is required in the process of becoming an animagus?"

Oh, crap. I remembered this topic now. Never understood it. Potter's hand, however, pointed lazily in the air.

"Mr Potter?"

"You need to make a Jhoobanian potion."

A what?

"Excellent, Potter. Five points to Gryffindor." WHADT? She had just given POINTS to the bloke who had trashed the Great Hall, and put her in this mood. Oh, the irony of it all. "Can anyone tell me what the key properties of the Jhoobian potion are?"

This time Black put his hand in the air. "Liquid amethyst," I heard him drawl out behind me, "And Fluxweed which has been picked on the night of a lunar eclipse."

"Very well done!" McGonagall looked astonished, my feelings exactly. I mean, it's not every day Black and Potter actually bother answering questions in class. "Another five points to Gryffindor!"

Grrr.

"One last question," she continued, looking a lot more cheerful now, thanks to Black and Potter (oh, the IRONY) "What is the incantation which must be uttered the first time a wizard transforms himself into his designated animal?"

Hang on. I knew this one. Raising my hand tentatively into the air, I tried not to quail in terror as she turned her laser beam onto me.

"Yes, Miss Evans?"

"Um…is it: 'Nervier Latimer?'"

Potter snorted loudly, and even McGonagall seemed to suppress a smile. "Good try, Miss Evans, but not quite right, I'm afraid. Would anyone like to help out?"

"It's: 'Neuvore Latamora,'" said Potter loudly, without raising his hand. I heard him snigger and mutter "Nervier Latimer!" under his breath. McGonagall beamed at him.

"Wonderful, Mr Potter!" I waited for her to reprimand him about not raising his hand. She never did. She just kept on going with her exciting (cough) lesson. I resisted the urge to groan and bury my head in my hands. This was turning out to be one of the worst weeks in the world.

Eventually McGonagall decided to set us some textbook questions (oooh, someone's feeling original today) and, because the Powers That Be decided to have a laugh and wind me up even more that day, the textbooks had to be shared one between two.

I set my teeth and growled, just once, to relieve the stress. It didn't help. Potter, thank God, didn't notice, and only yanked the book over to his side of the desk like he hadn't heard anything. He then set it open at the right page, right in front of him, and started writing. Needless to say, I couldn't see a bloody thing in the book.

Hmmm. Think, Lily. How to settle this in a calm, mature, adult way?

WHACK.

"OUCH!"

Potter glared at me as he nursed the swelling red bump where I had smacked him one with the book. Flashing him a smug smile, I set the book down in front of my parchment, and began work.

He didn't like that very much. "Professor!" he called, raising his hand. "Professor McGonagall! Evans just hit me with the textbook, Miss, and now she won't give it back!"

Oh no. Oh – bloody hell. McGonagall was approaching me with a look similar to that of an executioner. Not that I've ever met an executioner. "Is this true, Miss Evans?" she asked, red dots going boing-dee-boing in her eyes.

"Er…yeah," I muttered reluctantly. Well, I couldn't exactly deny it when I had practically given Potter concussion. She smiled grimly, and said one word.

"Detention."

My heart hit the floor with a messy phut.

0o0o0o0o0

Oh, poor Lilykins. Is there anyone out there who has been forced to sit next to someone they hate before? Or are me and Lily the only ones? I had to sit next to a right &£!$! in a maths lesson today. But on the bright side, I don't have to put up with him again until next Tuesday...

TWENTY REVIEWS LAST TIME, PEOPLE! TWENTY! (Does back flips) That's the most this story has ever recieved! I love all of you. I know I have said that a lot, but it's true. IdoIdoIdoIdo-ooo!

Special mention to 'Harold' who is no longer a non review lurker. YAY FOR YOU! May many others follow in your example.

Starfish and rainbows to all of you,

Bubbles xxx