As the third Hogsmeade weekend of term approached, the last before the winter holidays, there was much excitement in the air. This December, a stage would be erected in the center of Hogsmeade, and witches and wizards from all over the island would come to see the Sickle Sell-Outs play. The corridors were buzzing with talk of who would be asking who, and whether the Sickle Sell-Outs would be playing songs from this album and that.

In Lily's mind, this would be the test. If James Potter did not ask her to be his date to this Hogsmeade weekend, she would consider herself shot of him. If she had been fine with their platonic relationship for five years, there was no reason it should bother her now.

But Lily knew, deep down, that even if he did ask her she could not now say yes. How could she do that to Libby? And these days she noticed that every time Libby and James were in company, Libby appeared to always have something on the tip of her tongue, something she couldn't quite get out. Was she thinking of asking him?

"I feel like such an idiot," she complained to Lily one day in the Common Room, confirming her suspicions. "I don't usually get like this round guys. But—I dunno, we've been friends for ages and…we're teammates and…blimey, what if I ask him and he just laughs at me?"

Lily started to say He wouldn't do that, then realized she couldn't honestly guarantee that. What was more, she secretly was fine with Libby being too afraid to ask James to Hogsmeade; what if he didn't laugh at her? What if he said yes?

"Libby you're a lovely girl and you two get on really well together," Lily said with great effort. "And even if he doesn't want to come with you I'm sure he won't laugh. You're friends. I'm sure he'll be really kind about it."

"Ugh, I think that might be even worse," she said, sinking into her chair. "He probably just sees me as a teammate."

"Only one way to find out," said Lily solemnly.

Lily had been asked three times, and each time she said that she had already agreed to go with someone else. Why? Although one of them was Peter Pettigrew (who Lily laughed loudly at, thinking it was a joke), another was a seventh-year Gryffindor boy that Lily had always gotten along with, and the other was Max Conrad, a Slytherin Prefect that Lily had found herself in many engaging conversations with, whether in Prefects' meetings throughout the year or Slug Club parties, dinners, and luncheons.

Whatever her reasoning, if she kept this up she would have to face all of her rejected suitors in Hogsmeade, and they would find that her mystery date was actually nonexistent.

Lily often found herself wondering how underhanded it would be if she just asked him. Surely after all the times he'd boldly asked her out, she could ask him just this once? But every time she got this far in her thinking, she thought about Libby.

No one took a bolder approach than Sirius Black, who hollered across the Gryffindor Table during dinner one evening, "Hey, Symes…you're not wearing red robes to Hogsmeade this weekend, are you?"

Emily Symes, a very pretty fifth-year, looked taken aback. Her friends looked keenly in Sirius's direction. "No. Why?"

"Because I'm going in green and I don't want us going round looking like a bloody holiday advert. Be ready by five though, will you?" and tended to his pudding.

Emily flushed and could not keep a smile from spreading across her face. Her friends began whispering excitedly to her and many girls along the Gryffindor Table looked daggers at her.

James was looking at his friend like he had just sprouted another head. "You're mental, you know that don't you?"

"What? She's been finding excuses to chat to me for about twelve years, what's she going to say, 'no'?"

"Well I heard she's going with Connor Hammond," James pointed out.

"Well, she'll just have to tell him she's changed her mind then, won't she?" said Sirius through a mouth full of pie.

James rolled his eyes.

"That reminds me," said Sirius, disregarding the lack of privacy, "Are you going to give it a go asking—"

"Hey James!" Sirius was interrupted by Cordelia Prewett approaching the Gryffindor Table. Lily looked instinctively in her direction. The seventh-year Hufflepuff was a bit tall for a girl, with long, thick, chestnut hair, dark eyes with a sweeping fan of lashes, and full, pink lips. Lily was rather annoyed by the way she stood, her hand on a hip that was thrust rather unnecessarily in James's direction, her Head Girl badge placed to bring attention to the neck of her shirt, the first three buttons of which were undone.

"Alright, Trouble?" asked James.

Lily felt a twinge in her stomach…James usually called her that… She glanced at the Hufflepuff table; several girls were watching Cordelia.

"How are you?" she asked only James, taking a vacant place along the bench across from him.

Lily thought it was strange that Cordelia had come over to their table to talk. She was a year above them and never had any classes with them. What gives? She glanced at Libby and found her tight-lipped and calculating, watching everything that happened between James and Cordelia down to body language. She seemed to be aware of something about the pair that Lily was not.

"Better now my nose isn't on the other side of my head," laughed James.

Cordelia giggled, "I really am sorry about that. I did put it right for you, didn't I?"

"I do appreciate it," said James, pretending to be sour, "but I dunno that I can forgive the offense."

Cordelia giggled again. It was almost excessive. "We had a laugh though, didn't we?"

James nodded with his charming, crooked smile, then turned to his friends. "After last practice the pitch was open for just casual games of Quidditch and free flying and things, and Miss Prewett, as I've learned, has quite an arm."

"I didn't mean to!" she laughed.

"Bludger right to the face," said James, shaking his head in mock solemnity. "Nah, that's alright," he said in a way that Lily would have found patronizing. "You did put it right in the end, so I'll forgive you. No harm, no foul."

"Good," she said, looking relieved that he wasn't upset with her. There was a bit of an awkward silence before Cordelia cleared her throat. "Actually, I came over because—well, I was wondering—I thought if you aren't going to Hogsmeade with anyone—"

"I'm not having another game of Quidditch with you," said James, waving his finger. "I need all my extremities intact, thanks very much."

Cordelia burst into giggles again. "Actually, I don't want you to sit this Hogsmeade Weekend out, as I'd really like you to go with me."

A bit of color filled James's cheeks but he smiled in that self-assured way and said, "Oh, alright. I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall?"

She giggled, said ok, and walked back to the Hufflepuff Table. James watched her for a moment when Remus nudged him.

"Now tell me something. Why in the name of Merlin's crusty, Nargle infested beard, would a Head Girl fancy you?"

James scoffed. "Those innocent, well-behaved, swotty girls love a bloke who causes a bit of trouble. They can't help it."

"Is that so?" asked Remus.

"It is," James said, nodding seriously. He and his friends chuckled, not knowing that Maggie, Alice, and Lily would have to spend the rest of the night listening to Libby rant and rave about James and Cordelia, while Lily's heart sunk lower and lower.

When Libby had accepted a seventh-year's invitation to Hogsmeade, when Frank Longbottom had successfully asked Alice, and when Remus and Maggie agreed to go together, Lily thought it was time she accepted an invitation. She was so apathetic about the whole thing she simply said yes to the next person who asked her.