A few things. Firstly, I absolutely despite the orignal version of this chapter. For some unknown reason, 19 year old me decided to write Aurelia Vance's character as a vapid, idiotic, flirtatious creature whose only purpose in the story was to make Lily jealous. I'm legitimately so disappointed that I would create such a character and insinuate that because she was friendly to James, she was automatically a dirty flirt, stupid and worthless. Ergh. I think it goes without saying that I rectified that part.

Secondly, please don't come at me for my Wuthering Heights references. Being totally honest I've only read the text once and the opinions expressed by James and Lily are not necessarily my opinions!

So you snogged James Potter. It didn't mean the whole school had to find out about it, but of course they did.

The very next morning, James leaves for breakfast before you wake up. Why he leaves uncharacteristically early becomes abundantly clear once you step into the Great Hall because Sirius Black gives you the most infuriating grin you have ever seen on his annoyingly handsome face.

James notices Sirius staring at you and tugs on his arm roughly but it does nothing to dissuade him. Instead, he lifts a thin finger and beckons you over. Remus does nothing abnormal because he has a maturity level in alignment with his age. Peter wiggles an eyebrow at you suggestively.

"Evans," Sirius says, as James suddenly becomes very interested in his pumpkin juice. "I heard about your study session last night. It sounded very productive."

You snort. "I'm surprised you can even put 'study' and 'productive' in the same sentence, Black. Aren't you allergic to doing work?"

Peter sniggers and Sirius smirks. He likes this tit-for-tat far too much.

"I might not study, Evans," he replies in his haughty tone, "but somehow I still manage to best you. How is that?"

James, still refusing to look at you, now appears very busy rummaging around in his bag. You resist the urge to hit him over the head for telling Sirius everything.

"Pure luck, I expect," you retort, scowling.

Sirius twirls his wand between his fingers with an air of nonchalance, "maybe you should be spending your nights studying your Patronus Charm rather than snogging Potter. I'd hate to think he's distracting you."

You just about butt in, but then you cotton on. James has told them about the kiss, but not about the uncannily similar Patronuses. Well, at least some things are sacred.

"Sirius, the day you care about my academic achievements I'll eat my own wand," you reply, narrowing your eyes further. Remus looks up, amusement evident on his face as he shoves Peter in the side. Peter cackles so hard he falls off the bench.

Sirius bites his lip and cocks an eyebrow as if this is a suggestive remark. James stares resolutely at the floor, but you see him cringe.

"What about James'?" Sirius smirks, laughter at the edge of his lips.

"What?" you ask, genuinely perplexed.

"James' wand," Sirius replies, unable to control himself as he bursts into laughter, "would you eat that?"

Peter, no longer on the bench, cackles from the other side of the table.

Gross. Equal parts embarrassment and unequivocal disgust at Sirius Black lead you to roughly grasp an entire pitcher of pumpkin juice from the table and lift it menacingly above his head. Remus covers his eyes with his hands and peers through his fingers.

"Evans! You walked into it!," Sirius tries to exclaim as the entire pitcher ends up covering him in orange, sticky liquid. It goes all over James as well, which to be honest, you're not sorry about. Sirius gags and shakes his head as bits of pumpkin flesh go flying.

Literally every single head, including Professor McGonagall who does not look impressed, turns towards you, holding the pitcher, and Sirius, looking like a bedraggled tangerine. For a minute, you think you might have finally made Sirius look like an idiot. Then he opens his mouth.

"POTTER SNOGGED EVANS," he exclaims to the entire Great Hall, his grey eyes vindictive. "POTTER RAVISHED EVANS WITH HIS LIPS AND SHE LIKED IT!"

You could not get out of there fast enough.

~.~

An hour later and after a severe dressing down from Professor McGonagall ("I expect Sirius Black to act in that fashion, not the Head Girl!") you are leaning over your bubbling cauldron. Your hair caught fire to it not two minutes previously and it's still slightly smoking. So far, it's turning out to be a fabulous day.

One would expect James Potter to try to address the pumpkin juice saga or the fact that he decided to kiss and tell to Sirius-sodding-Black, but so far he is avoiding you like a bad case of dragon pox. It may be pathetic, but for the first time in your life you find yourself wishing that he would just acknowledge your existence.

Unfortunately, he's not. He's focussed on his potions partner, Aurelia Vance, who is an extremely pretty and intelligent Ravenclaw. The reason your hair has very nearly been burned off your head is that you can't stop covertly looking at them from across the room. James is leaning over the cauldron, flushed from the heat emitting from it, looking slightly bothered but laughing all the same. Aurelia Vance is also extremely funny, apparently.

She's chopping ginger root next to him, probably into perfectly equal slices, her long, shiny curls draping over her face. Rumour in the girls bathrooms is that she has Veela heritage and honestly, you would believe it. You feel a rush of completely unwarranted irritation towards her. How dare she exist and be engaging, smart and James Potter's potions partner. You swear the universe is colluding against you today.

At the end of the class, Professor Slughorn examines the variety of potions that have been created. Despite the fact that everyone is working from the same instructions, the results are remarkably different.

To your immense delight, Sirius Black's potion looks like green-brown porridge with bits of Bezoar stuck in it, which is amusing because Bezoars aren't a prescribed ingredient. Peter Pettigrew (Merlin knows how he made it to NEWT level), who for reasons known to everyone in the room fails to find someone to partner with, concocts some sort of tar-like substance. Slughorn tries to swirl the ladle and finds that he physically cannot move it.

Frowning, he moves on.

He looks with uncertainty at your cauldron until he catches sight of Marlene lurking in the background and smiles, kindly. "Nice of you to let Ms McKinnon have a turn today, Ms Evans," he says jovially. "Next time remember to stir more briskly, Ms McKinnon. That should do the trick!"

You don't bother to try and correct him. Marlene is very cross with you.

Avery and Severus produce a brilliant green potion and receive full marks. Unsurprisingly, so do Potter and Vance.

Aside from that, you learn nothing the entire lesson except that Aurelia Vance is a goddess amongst mere mortals and you are an extraordinarily jealous individual.

~.~

Your day goes from bad to very bad. Professor Dromatious makes the huge mistake of pairing you with Peter Pettigrew in Defence Against the Dark Arts. You're working on blocking and stunning in preparation for the more basic component of your NEWT examination.

It is a grievous error. Already on edge from the pumpkin juice incident, McGonagall's lecturing and a sub-par potions result, you also have to contend with Potter's continual avoidance of acknowledging your existence, which is oddly starting to really wind you up.

You're flustered (something that is obvious because your cheeks are about as red as your hair) and to be frank, Peter looks terrified staring across at you. You suppose the irritated energy is quite frightening to a five-foot-six marauder. "Take it easy," he pleads, as Dromatious assigns you to be a stunner and Peter to be a blocker.

Peter lasts less than a second. His reaction time is truly awful and he ends up having to be laid down in the corner of the classroom with Remus watching over him, completely out cold.

"Savage, Evans," Sirius remarks, looking at Peter pitifully.

"I'll savage you in a minute," you mutter under your breath.

Dromatious waves a hand and tells you to switch partners. To Potter. For the first time that day, he meets your eye with a guilty expression. "Alright, Evans?" he mutters, eyes widening in perceptible trepidation.

"Never better," you respond, teeth feeling like they've been glued together by a Gobstopper.

Dromatious instructs the class to continue blocking and stunning. You feel as if a bundle of fireworks could spontaneously combust inside of you.

Your reflexes are usually slower than Potter's, so you expect him to be able to block your stunning easily. Today, he falters a bit. You might have also cheated by failing to wait for him to be prepared before you start sending red jets in his direction. He doesn't manage the incantation in time, but he does jump to the side quickly enough to miss it.

The class suddenly becomes extremely interested in the Evans and Potter duel that's about to unfold. In your peripherals, you notice that everyone has become totally disengaged with whatever their partner is doing and are instead focussing on Potter's response.

His eyebrows just about shoot off his forehead but he springs back into position and glares at you. You only just manage to get the Protego out of your mouth in time to block the returning spell, but his reflexes kick into gear as you venture slightly beyond the mandated coursework.

Before you know it, hexes, jinxes and curses which are definitely not stunning spells are flying back and forth between the two of you. It's a bit dangerous but it's also quite cathartic, in your opinion.

You manage to block a particularly nasty furnunculus curse which would have resulted in some terrible boils before shooting back a stinging jinx.

He cops it on the thigh and hops on one foot for a second, but manages to block your impedimenta jinx successfully before finding his mark with a stickfast hex. The fact that you now cannot move your lower body doesn't deter you from sending a few choice hexes back his way, just missing the mark with the bat-bogey one which would have been a fantastic look for him.

Professor Dromatious is yelling something that you assume is along the lines of reminding you that you were only asked to stun and block. You suppose he can't really intervene without getting caught in the fray and it looks as if one of us might try and A-K the other at any second.

Sirius Black, sensing a slight problem, manages to break it up by grabbing James roughly around the collar, whispering something that sounds awfully like "severe issues," and laughing everything off.

Potter forces a little laugh as well and messes up his hair in his trademark fashion. It covers his frustration convincingly enough.

Professor Dromatious has never looked so pleased with Sirius in his life.

~.~

Dinner passes without significance, which for a day like today is an achievement. You catch Severus' eyes briefly as you slip past the Slytherin table to leave the Great Hall. He doesn't even bother to glare at you, anymore. He just bores into you with those disconcerting black eyes. You suppose being a Mudblood is bad enough. Cavorting with James Potter is just icing on the cake.

The dormitory is empty by the time you get there. It's still light outside, but you don't feel like doing anything social. Instead, you dig around in your trunk for a novel you haven't yet read this year and flop yourself onto the couch.

Try as you might to concentrate on the book, it isn't until James walks through the portrait hole three hours later that you realise you've barely made it through ten pages. He looks at you uncertainly, like you might try and curse him again, and says "Hi."

You frown at him over the top of the page and don't return the greeting. It's immature, but you've had a day.

He deposits himself on the opposite end of the couch and peers over at the cover. "Yuck," he says, crinkling his nose at it.

You move the cover slightly to the left so he comes into view. "What? Not enough action in the classics for you, Potter?"

"Nothing wrong with the classics, Evans," he says, crossing his arms, "but Wuthering Heights is full of awful characters who make stupid decisions, regret them and then get haunted for the rest of their life."

"Maybe for someone who is incapable of reading with nuance," you respond hotly, putting the book down on the ground so you can cross your arms in an imitation of his own.

He scoffs. "What, are you going to tell me you enjoy reading about Heathcliff?"

"He's a tragic character!" you exclaim. "He's abused in his childhood and suffers the loss of the love of his life because he isn't wealthy enough."

James looks at you incredulously. "He's also vindictive and cruel. If anyone deserves to be haunted it's Heathcliff. If you're looking for a real tragedy, try Isabella."

"What? Born with a silver spoon in her mouth, how horrible," you retort.

"She falls in love with someone who marries her in a plot for revenge!" James exclaims, more passionate than you've ever seen him in any Hogwarts subject. To be fair, he has a point.

"Well Heathcliff dies from a broken heart-" you start, unsure why you're trying to defend Heathcliff, who you are well aware isn't a particularly good person.

"He also digs up Catherine's body," James points out, a little more calmly. "I'd say he lost the plot well before the broken heart bit."

Another fairly good point, you think. "Ok, you have a point. But what about Cathy?"

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. "You're agreeing with me?"

You mumble something about the posthumous extraction and the knife-throwing and James looks very smug.

"Cathy's an idiot, isn't she?" he asks, baiting your opinion.

You frown and bite your bottom lip. "She saw herself as Heathcliff's equal before she got bitten by that dog and ended up at the Linton's," you say. "Then all of a sudden Heathcliff is so far beneath her that marrying him would be degrading."

James gives you a satisfied look. "Ergo, an idiot."

"That's a very simplified analysis," you reply, narrowing your eyes again.

"But it is simple," he says, patiently, looking pensive. "Anyone who thinks someone else is beneath them because of their blood or their heritage is an idiot."

All of a sudden, it doesn't seem like you're talking about Wuthering Heights anymore. You both lapse into an uncertain silence that stretches across the couch between you. You're not really sure what the most appropriate response is.

He clears his throat. "Hey, I just wanted to apologise, you know, for Sirius and all that." He takes a deep breath and waits for your response, hazel eyes searching your own.

"Are you apologising for blabbing to him? Or for him being a giant prat about it?" you ask, uncrossing your left arm and using it to fiddle with the small stud in your earlobe.

James smiles, hesitantly. "Both, I suppose."

"And there was no way you could have told me this earlier?" you ask, thinking about how that very incident had set off a chain of events that had culminated in a very bad day.

The bottom of his lip curls downwards slightly and he runs a hand through his hair. "I thought maybe I should let you cool off for a bit. Although I think you made it abundantly clear you were not cool when you tried to duel me."

"Tried to?" you say, disbelief evident in your voice, "I did duel you, Potter."

He nods and a small smile forms on his lips again. "You are a formidable opponent, Evans."

You admit, you're having to try very hard to remain angry. The quirk of his lips and the warm affection in his eyes melt away your irritation. It's difficult to remember why you were ever put out by him in the first place. Of course, it has very little to do with Sirius Black and everything to do with the fact that you just don't do well with being ignored by James Potter.

"Don't ignore me again, please," you say, almost without meaning to. "I singed part of my hair off in potions this morning."

He looks shocked by this revelation and laughs, crawling forward on the couch slightly to inspect the end of your hair that is definitely singed and sort of smells like fire.

"Horrifying," he agrees, pushing back to his end of the couch. Then his expression turns pensive again as he asks, "Lily, you weren't...you know?"

You think you do know what he means, but you're not sure you want to answer properly. "Know what?"

He sighs, grappling with the words, "You know what I mean," he says in a pleading tone, hazel eyes searching you again.

Completely unhelpfully, you remain silent and stare back at him. For a very opinionated person, it turns out that you're oddly conflict-avoidant.

"Lily, I was under the impression that you didn't want my attention," he begins, one hand running through his hair again anxiously. "It didn't occur to me that you would mind being left alone for a day. I thought you found me a bit irritating, to be honest."

You bite your lower lip again to stop yourself from laughing. "You are more than a bit irritating, James."

He pouts playfully from the other end of the couch. "I knew it."

You roll your eyes in response. "I admit, you grew on me."

"Oh?" he says, cocking his head to one side. "Tell me more?"

You shake your head and he grins mischievously in response. Spurred on by your admission that, at the very least, you don't find him as irritating as you once did, he crawls forward again and settles himself on the couch beside your stomach, propping himself up on his elbows. "Please?" he asks.

You run your hand over your lips in a zipping motion and he grins and pokes you in the ribs. It doesn't take long for tickling to become kissing and all of a sudden you find yourself wrapped up in his arms and thanking Merlin and Morgana that such a delicious human wants to ravish you back.

Everything about James Potter intoxicates you in close proximity. His hair, soft and pliant threads easily through your fingers as you encourage him to deepen the kiss. His smell envelops you in a mix of citrus and sandalwood that is so captivating and yet so familiar. His hands, light and warm on your cheek anchor you to him; the frantic, desperate energy flowing from his skin to yours.

It's so exhilarating and yet so natural. Like you've been waiting your entire life to snog James Potter absolutely senseless and you just never knew it. There's something about the way in which your lips move against his that's so effortless, so in sync that it feels as if you have been doing this for years, not days. It's confusing and yet makes so much sense at the same time.

He smiles against your lips and pulls away to look at you.

"You're going to kill me, Evans," he says, pressing his lips against yours for another searing kiss.

You look back up at him, flushed and radiant. A thought comes to you. "Ask me," you say.

He raises an eyebrow quizzically. "Ask you what?"

You look intently at him in response. Surely he can remember that he's been pestering you to go to Hogsmeade with him every year for the last four years.

Apparently, he can't.

"James?" you ask, pressing your lips to the corner of each of his.

"Mm?" he replies, as you start to kiss your way to his jawbone.

"Will-you-go-out-with-me?" you ask, punctuating each word with a kiss down his neck.

You hear a breathy laugh escape him as he gazes down at you. "I thought I was already going out with you," he says, feigning seriousness.

You furrow your brow slightly. "That's not the answer I wanted."

He laughs again, dropping his lips to your forehead before looking at you through the curtain of dark lashes. "Yes, Lily. A thousand times yes."

He captures your lips with his again as you reflect on the fact that you're now in the dangerous vocation of being James Potter's girlfriend. You better get used to Sirius Black.