I didn't stop running until the pub was a distant speck on the horizon. I couldn't stop. My muscles were screaming in protest, but every time I slowed down an image of Moony's hurt, taken aback face printed itself clearly before my eyes, and my guts would clench together to resemble an iron fist.

How could he…how could he do that…?

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!" I screamed, unable to keep it in any more, and I swung my fist into a tree standing near by. My breath came in short, painful gasps, and for one frightening moment I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. Everything around me blurred and merged into one hazy blob, rioting with colours, mocking me. Anger and horror clawed at my throat again, and I grabbed fistfuls of my hair to keep it inside me, so I wouldn't start screaming again.

Something sticky rubbed off onto my cheek. Automatically, I looked at my hand, and saw patches of bright red fogging over the pale skin. I blinked. Beads of blood were welling up from my knuckles. To my surprise, they didn't even hurt that much.

Somehow, the sight of blood calmed me. I took deep, steadying breaths, then wiped at my tears with my shirt sleeve. God, I was being stupid.

"I couldn't care less about Moony anyway," I muttered, then immediately felt like a huge bitch for even thinking it. I was lying to myself, anyway. Moony might have bored me, but he didn't deserve what had happened. No-one deserved that.

"I couldn't care less abut Potter, anyway."

But that's not true, is it?

"It is bloody true. I hate him!"

Hating someone isn't the same as not caring about them.

I growled. For God's sake, I couldn't even have a decent rant with myself. A feeling of enormous hopelessness washed over me, and I suddenly felt incredibly tired. Looking up for the first time, I realised I had somehow ended up back in the grounds of Hogwarts, the lake not far away. Flopping down on the grass, I stared over at the mass of shimmering water, but didn't really see it at all.

What the hell am I going to do.

"Must make it up to Moony," I mumbled, "And when I've done that…kill Potter."

Sounded like a plan to me. Collapsing back onto the grass, I lay there and gazed up at the clouds, waiting…waiting for something to change my life…

0o0

"EVANS!"

I gazed in horror at Potter's sneering face, trying my hardest to back away, but my feet remained glued to the floor.

"EVANS!"

His voice was booming over me, echoing around my brain, and somehow, horribly, he was getting taller and I was getting smaller…I tried to run, but my feet stuck fast, and I pitched over backwards…falling…falling…

"EVANS, I SWEAR TO MERLIN, IF YOU DON'T GET UP I'M GOING TO COME UP THERE AND MAKE YOU!"

I sat up in bed with a small scream, kicking the duvet frantically away from my feet, tried to rip the curtains open, and fell out of bed with a loud and incredibly painful thump.

"Ow."

I lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, entangled in blankets and breathing hard. From behind me somewhere I heard a creak of bedsprings, then a tired voice mumble, "Lily?"

"Uh," I grunted back. From this position, I could see quite a large amount of dust under my bed, and in my current sleep-stupid state, all I could think about was how cloud-like and fluffy it was…and how soft it looked…and how I would rather like to curl up and go to sleep on it…

"EVANS! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!"

I almost jumped out my skin, Potter's voice frightened me so much. I heard a loud groan, then something flumped into my head. A pillow, I guessed, though I couldn't be sure. "Lily," called Zea's sleep strained voice, "Call me stupid if I'm wrong, but I get the feeling that Potter wants you."

I lay in silence for a moment. Potter...why did that name set off such a bad feeling in my stomach?

My brain wasn't functioning properly to figure it out. Sleep staved, it was telling me that my current position, although not entirely comfortable, was perfect for sleeping in…I felt my eyes start to flutter closed again…

"EVANS!"

"SHUT UP POTTER, BEFORE I SHUT YOU UP!"

And for the record, that wasn't even me. That was Zea.

As you might be able to tell, Zea isn't really a morning person.

Knowing I would be dicing with death if I let Potter shout much more, I dragged myself up, bundling the duvet around me so I was warmly cocooned inside, and toddled to the door.

"EVANS!"

"I'm COMING, you loud mouthed RECTUM."

Growling, I started to make my way awkwardly down the stairs, but it's no mean feat, walking down a steep staircase with a huge, lumpy duvet taking up most of the space. Breathing hard and cursing Potter, I took it one step at a time, praying that no-one would decide to start coming UP the stairs at the same time. Finally, finally I rounded the spiral and the Gryffindor common room came into view, with Potter's head craning up the stairs.

"I'm going to KILL YOU!" he shouted the second he saw me, so suddenly and violently that I actually screamed and took an abrupt step backwards. The duvet, however, had other ideas, and as I tried to step backwards I stood on its lining. I teetered for a moment, trying desperately to maintain my balance, but as my hands were full with trying to clutch it to my chest, there was nothing to hold onto.

"Oh, shiiiiiiiiiit…!" I cried, screaming frantically as I fell sideways into the wall, slithered down it, then lost all grip and went thundering down the remaining stairs, straight into Potter's kneecaps, like some blanketed boulder.

Thank God, the duvet cushioned my fall, but it didn't stop me ending up in a tangle of arms and legs with Potter at the base of the stairs.

"Bloody wonderful," I wheezed, my face once again rammed into the floor. "I can see it's going to be a good day already."

What was worse, the duvet had come unravelled in my fall, and I was now splayed, frog like, for the world to see, in my baggy teddy bear night shirt and black boxer shorts.

Oh, and somehow ending up sprawled over Potter's legs as well. Let's not forget that.

"Get the hell off of me!" I snarled, twisting violently away from him and attempting to gather the duvet around me once more. "What is your problem?"

Potter was sitting up and looking me up and down with an incredulous look on his face. "You were in bed?"

"Do you have any idea of the time, Potter!"

"Half past twelve in the afternoon?"

"Exactly!" I nodded smartly. "Much too bloody early."

He stared. "And…you think that's…" He shook his head, wisely not deciding to make an issue of it. "Anyway, I don't care about that. I'm here because I want a bloody apology!"

"What for?" I snapped, "I don't owe you anything!"

"Oooh, try 'putting me in the Hospital Wing overnight,' and then tell me you don't have to apologise for anything!"

I gazed at him steadily, although inwardly marvelling at my hexing power. "You deserved everything you got, Potter, and you know it. I bet even Lupin hates you now. Truth hurts, does it?"

It happened so fast I barely even saw it coming. One second I was kneeling there, enjoying the frozen look on Potter's face as I spoke those words, and the next, I found myself pinned to the floor, unable to move.

"Get OFF!" I screamed, jerking my legs up instinctively to throw him off, but within seconds he'd straddled my waist as well. Trapped, I glared furiously up at him. He was smiling now, as though enjoying the unexpected tilt in power. My heart sped up unexpectedly – our faces were less than six inches apart, and I was fully aware of the horribly compromising position we were in. If anyone walked in now…

"Bastard!" I shrieked, attempting to twist myself away from him, but his weight was crushing me. "Get off, you freaking pervert!"

He grinned. "Not unless you feel like apologising."

"Oh, for crying out loud Potter, you're such a bloody baby!" I kicked fruitlessly at the floor, trying hard to ignore the fact that, from this angle, I could see straight down his shirt. I breathed deeply, trying my utmost to remain calm and dignified but failing miserably.

He chuckled, as though reading my mind. "So? Are you saying sorry?"

"I'll scream," I snarled up at him, "And accuse you of rape."

He raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, right."

His obvious disbelief pushed me into it. I took a deep breath, running my tongue along the roof of my mouth, and then spat upwards as hard as I could. Making use of his exceptionally loud moment of disgust, ("My eye! MY EYE!") I managed to twist my arms away from his, and then used him as a ladder to pull myself into a sitting position. In a matter of seconds, I was on my feet again staring down at him.

He glared up at me. "Evil bitch."

"And proud." With a last snort and toss of my head (what am I now? Some kind of horse woman?), I swirled my cape – er, I mean, duvet, about my shoulders, and marched off into the glorious sunset. Or the Gryffindor girls staircase, whichever you prefer.

"Well," I said, half to myself, half to the world in general as I re-entered the dorm, "That was odd."

"Shut up." Zea, still not out of her standard morning-grump mood.

"Ze, it's half twelve." Despite what I'd said earlier to Potter, I was feeling unexpectedly energized. Potter's scent still lingered about me, and I suddenly felt quite happy. He thought he was so clever, always determined to get what he wanted, but I'd showed him good.

Then I remembered Moony, and my heart plummeted again.

Crawling back to my bed, I sat down on it with a sigh. Then I looked over at the squashed, curled up lump of blankets, which was all I could see of my friend. "Zea, do you think I'm a bitch?"

"Yes, because you're not letting me sleep."

I groaned and fell backwards onto my pillow. "I am, aren't I?" Unexpectedly, my eyes welled with tears. "I'm a right cow."

"Mmm." As can be seen, Zea was just bursting with sympathy that morning.

"I don't even deserve nice guys."

"True."

"Maybe I should become a lesbian?"

"Yeah."

"Wanna get married some time, babe-eh?"

"No, ta."

I sighed heavily, though I couldn't suppress a grin at the image of me and Zea in white veils, promising our lives to each other. "I bet Moony hates me now," I said quietly. My eyes burned with self pity. "I bet half the school hates me now as well."

"Well, Lily, it has to be said, you know how much we all despise and detest you and everything…" Zea's voice rose sarcastically from her mountains of pillows. "In fact, I had to ward the mobs of people screaming your name away from our dorm door just now."

I smiled dryly. "What were they screaming?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. 'We hate you, yes we do' and all that. Oh, and not forgetting the smash-hit: "I hate you, you hate me, let's get together and kill Lily…"

I aimed a pillow in her direction. Something smashed about two seconds later. Neither of us looked up. "Seriously, though," I said, "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you for what?"

I glared at her pillows, which was the closest I could get to her face. "Zea, quit the jokes. I'm in urgent need of sisterly advice here."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Her voice was starting to sound irritated again.

"Me and Lupin! In the pub, last night! Wasn't you there?"

There was a long pause. Then a flat: "No."

I gazed over at her, flabbergasted. "Then where were you?"

Again, another drawn-out pause. Eventually she said, "Somewhere else."

A pillow fell to the floor as the bundle of blankets squirmed, and as she sat up I got a proper look at Zea's face for the first time that day. I gaped, quite unable to stop myself. "Christ, you look like shit."

"Thanks for that," she snapped back at me, "You always know how to make me feel beautiful."

She did look bad – the worst I'd ever seen her, even in the morning. Zea's skin looked pasty white and streaked with last night's foundation. Her eyes were surrounded by dark patches of smudged black, as she knuckled her forehead, eyes two scrunched up slits as she nursed what appeared to be a killer hangover. I looked her over in interest. "Were you getting drunk last night?"

"No," she said unconvincingly, massaging her throat with her other hand. "I just have a really bad migraine." She swallowed painfully. "I need water."

"I'll get you some." Springing up from my bed, I made my way over to the jug with permanent ice in – topped up every morning by the house elves. Pouring her a nice cold glassful, I walked back over to Zea's bed.

"Thanks." She reached gratefully for it, but I moved it back, just so it was slightly out of her reach.

"Were you drunk last night?"

"Lily!" She croaked angrily, attempting to rock forwards, but falling back, clutching her head. "Just give me the water!"

"Hey." I raised an eyebrow. "No water for liars."

"It's a migraine!"

"Ooops, looks like this water is going back into the jug…" I turned as though to walk away from her.

"Oh for the love of – fine! I was drunk! Happy now, Miss Picky?"

I turned around with a huge grin on my face. "Who with?"

"No-one!" she rasped angrily, eyes narrowing dangerously at me. "Lily, I'm desperate, just give me the water!"

"What did I say about liars not getting any water?"

Zea uttered a noise that might have been a cross between a shriek and a cry of pain, but it just sounded mighty like a constipated hyena to me, and I was too busy laughing to feel sorry for her. Then she turned away from me, and started fiddling with something on her bedside table, eyes downcast and defeated.

"You really want to know?" Her voice was soft, at least as soft as her sandpapery voice could make it. I edged closer at once, though carefully keeping the water out of arms reach.

"Yeah, go on." I squinted curiously at her. "Is it anyone we know?"

She sighed slightly. "You could say that. I mean, it's… ACCIO WATER!"

I screamed in shock as the glass was wrenched from my grip and sailed over to Zea, where it spilled half the contents over her nightdress as she caught it a little too deftly.

I'd never known anyone with the ability to grin smugly whilst drinking water before, but Zea somehow managed to do it with perfection, even with a massive water stain down her front.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Heya guys. God, it's been a while since THIS puppy was updated, eh? I know that wasn't the best of chapters, but it's just setting the scene for the next one really…I don't know when that will come around…

At the moment, I am about three days from hitting GCSE exam month, and I'm seriously panicking. So story writing will have to be put on hold for a while, but I will write when I can. I'm sorry! But these exams are very important, you know, and they kind of come on top of my priority list.

But on a more cheerful note – PLEASE review! I do check my e-mails constantly when I should be revising, and reviews genuinely do inspire me to start writing. Reviews will keep me warm in the lonely, cold revision days where I'm howling into my pillow about how much I hate exams…

Love you all loads. Really. I do.

Peace out

Bubbles xxxxxxxxx

PS: And, um, Kristen and Danielle? Yeah, your reviews make me crack up, because they're the kind of things me and my best friend write. So, I didn't block/cut them off like one of you said I did. Just to let you know in case you both hate me now and plan to hunt me down or something…hehehe.