The Quidditch Pitch.

Worst night of sleep possible. As result, even though this is Saturday Morning and schedule is free to laze about in, I crawled out from cocoon of covers around two hours ago, grabbed my new broom from under bed, washed my face (have since noticed a Stress Spot is forming!), changed into some Muggle Sweating Clothes, and walked outside to fly around Pitch and let out some steam.

In these Dark Days, it is probably not the best of choices to be out here while it is still gray, and without any adult supervision besides, but I am really at the point where I feel like any person who decides to come out right now and challenge me should Just Try It.

Have you ever felt Invincible from your anger?

Well, that is how I am feeling right now.

I feel Righteous and Ready To Enact Revenge against Black. I have already started wording a letter to my parents. And I Know that anyone who was to come upon me now with the intent to do ill, would soon find that challenging an angry female to the death is not the best course of action.

I cannot believe what he did to me last night. I never knew a grown wizard could be so immature. It boggles, it does.

Is what is does.

It boggles. And I am going to tell my parents.

Lucille thinks she can manage me? Well, no thank you, Lucille.

Running to my parents is the only joy I will have out of this situation. As much as I say they are neglectful, as much as I say they hate the Finer Wizarding Pursuits Of Life (i.e. Quidditch), my parents are still my parents and I think (I think) they still love me. I think they will protect me. They still love Apollon and Annabella anyway. And for that matter they also still adore their newest child (who hasn't been mentioned before, because I simply sometimes do not care), three-year-old Aloysius.

Why do not I have an "A" name, you wonder? Well, "A" names are stupid. Annabella has gotten the only good one for a girl. What would have been left for me? Alice? Abelinda? Agatha?

No, thank you.

Evelyn is a beautiful name. It may have, a century or so ago, been stolen by certain greedy mamas to give to their male offspring, but everyone knows now that a boy who has the name "Evelyn" is someone to be laughed at; which is why Evelyn is the perfect name for me. Is not it fitting somehow, that its origin is "Avis"? Am I not in the air as we speak, flying around?

The answer to both questions is "yes."

I feel a bit Glorious right now. I am still horribly angry at Black. But the wind is working a number on my skin, rubbing it raw and making my nose all runny. My lips are cracking down the middle and starting to bleed; I can taste the iron on them. It is so damn cold out but I do not care. I chose to not enact a Warming Charm. I do not care. I am Loving The Elements. And they are Loving Me.

And I think I want to be ill. Being ill will at least put me in the Hospital Wing for a couple of days. In the Hospital Wing I will be safe from Black and all of his evil machinations. Madam Pomfrey would never allow her patients to be distressed and aggrieved by unwanted visitors. I believe Pomfrey was a sea kraken in a former life.

Perhaps Pomfrey will shoo out Lucille as well? I know, out of everyone, Lucille is the person most likely to badger me back into good health. I would not want that. Lucille would never give it up.

See?

I am already thinking like a person with Muggle Pneumonia! Scatterbrained thoughts and feverish maneuverings. This is marvelous.

Maybe I should just take a potion to speed the process up? If I really want to be Incognito these next few days, a potion would be sure to do it.

Fucking, Buggering Hell, Speaking Of Potions, if I were ill, no one I trust with my project would be able to check up on my Polyjuice and gradually add in ingredients. There is Severus Snape, my project partner, of course (and thinking about that boy some more, it may be possible that he would take some pity on me for being on Black's Bad Side right now), but do I really want to take the chance that I won't get yelled at? From what I have seen, Snape has been very touchy ever since the beginning of term with Potter making Head Boy.

No. No, I do not want to take that chance. I do not want to be yelled at. I already feel much violated from having Black take my wand and replace it with a fake one. Getting yelled at by another seventh year would probably make me start weeping like a baby.

How Sirius Black stole my wand, I still have yet to find out.

I obviously was not paying attention to my surroundings. Perhaps Black grabbed it out of my hand when I fell against him on The Grand Staircase?

Thinking. But I had since used that wand several times; notably to present my personal magical signature on to the parchment; which we all know, had to have worked since Black's stupid scrawl appeared immediately afterwards. This leads me to believe that the possibility of wand-stealing in that instance was impossible. Hmmm. I have time. The sun has not even risen yet. I have plenty of time to think about this without interruption and derive a conclusion.

Oh, Black.

You tosser.

Will we not smash you up eventually? Will we not tear you to pieces for daring to be so…so…Sirius Black-y? Oh, I believe we will.

The Great Hall.

"Stop frowning," Lucille ordered me. "Everyone is looking. They'll think you think something is wrong."

"Something is wrong." I had come into The Great Hall only two minutes ago, and Every Single Person in it was staring at me and sniggering. Bless. I glared at Black. Of course it was his Fault. "And they all know what it is."

"Well, you don't have to act like it!" snapped Lucille. "That's what they want: for you to act like it! Do you want to give those ugly bints what they want or do you want to be smart and outsmart them?"

"I want to outsmart them," I replied. "But it's hard! They're all looking at me. Before I walked in, do you know what Stuart Diggory said to me?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll enlighten me."

I nodded. "That's right, I will. We were going down The Stairs together, do you remember?" Lucille's face signaled that she did. "And then, Out Of Nowhere, you got waylaid by Lupin, who dragged you away to make love—."

"Please leave Remus out of this!" Lucille requested. "He has done nothing."

I stared at her. "Do you find it hard to divide your loyalties, Lucille? Is it very trying for you? How upsetting. I am so sorry you have to feel that way—."

"Go on!" Lucille interrupted. "Just…finish your story!"

"Thank you!" I began again, "And then, since Camilla—as we know—is apparently more interested with eating with her boyfriend this morning…" We all looked down The Table at the Couple In Question then turned back to our food a little less hungry. I understand Priorities Change when you have a boyfriend but Why Do They Have To? Lucille isn't sitting with Pervy Lupin. "Tamara and I were left to combat the hordes alone. And there were hordes, Lucille. There were hordes."

"That's all very interesting," Lucille responded. "But it still doesn't tell me anything about Stuart Diggory."

Tamara started giggling uncontrollably. "Tamara?" I asked, with difficulty, because sometimes I did not know how to put up with her. "Is everything alright?"

"I think Stuart fancies you!" she said. Tamara turned to Lucille. "He stopped her from walking in The Hall and everything! Touched her arm!" Tamara confided. "He would only look at her!"

Lucille gave me an interested smile. "Interesting! And so the tables have turned!"

"No, they have not turned!" I said. "They have not turned at all! They are still facing south, towards hell. You don't even know what that fool said to me, Lucille. You're just going off the fact that a boy opened his mouth in front of me and out sprouted words!"

"And touched you!" Tamara added.

"To get my attention!" I told the both of them. "That was all."

"Well, what did he say?" asked Lucille.

Tamara's giggling increased to the point where I actually became frightened she might start to dry heave. "He s-s-said…h-he s-s-said—!"

"He said that he forgot over the past couple years how entertaining I could be," I answered for her. "It wasn't a compliment! He was there last night. He meant that he's never heard me swear so much or seen me run so fast. Well, I didn't run fast," I continued with alacrity, "I didn't run at all. I stood there and took it like a Man, and then walked away."

"Walked away?" Lucille asked. "Are you sure you don't mean you 'ran'?"

"Yes!" I said. "Yes, I am sure! I would never run away from such a thing! That would be the worst sort of social suicide! Of course I didn't run!"

"I never knew you to be one concerned with popularity," Lucille commented, narrowing her eyes at me. I stabbed at a sausage. To a certain point, one had to be concerned with their popularity, especially since we lived in a school. It was about survival.

"Isn't it hard to be concerned when you're not popular?" I said. "Because, I am not. And I am not concerned that much. I just don't want Black's girlfriends following me about and cat-calling. I don't think that's too much to ask for."

"Maybe you should talk to Black about this. I still don't believe—."

"Lucille!" I sighed and set down my fork. "It hasn't even been a full day. It's been about twelve hours. Of course you still don't believe that Black had anything but my best interests at heart. And I guess that's okay. You're entitled to your own opinion, but at least respect that I have mine. Black is Evil."

"Oh, pish!" Lucille said. "Black isn't Evil."

"Alright," I said, "I grant you, we may have different definitions of Evil. Black may not be Evil if you consider that The Defining Evil Wizard of our generation is You-Know-Who. I grant you this." Lucille and Tamara both nodded. "But: if there were an Evil-Ness Spectrum, Black would surely be somewhere after me and before You-Know-Who."

Lucille took a moment to go over that in her head. "Agreed," she said finally.

Fifth Floor On The Way To The Prefects' Bathroom.

"No Invisibility Cloak this morning?" I greeted Black, watching him swagger up to me after I got off The Stairs. Apparently he had been waiting for my appearance? That was not a good thought. Bugger must have spies. "I am disappointed."

Black shrugged. "I took your advice. Sounded like a good idea."

"Really? Black agreeing with me?" I looked around wildly. "Where are the cameras? The Other Media Crew? Where is The Wizengamot Note-Taker to note such an Auspicious Occasion? For surely this is an event to remember!"

"Stop talking!" Black said, holding up a hand and looking Quite Annoyed—ha! I say to that (ha!) "Please! You're giving me a headache. But I guess that's nothing new, right? I mean, you always were the most bothersome baggage."

"Oh!"

"You really are touchy this morning, aren't you?" said Black, now grinning cheekily. "So sensitive! Last night was just a joke, you realize."

"Just a joke?" I repeated, horrified by Black's clueless-ness. "Last night was just a joke to you? Do you know what you did to me?" I started laughing a bit. "Of course you don't know what you did to me, Black! Of course you don't realize that you violated me in almost every possible way! And of course what you did last night was just a joke, was funny! I remember now, how fucking funny it was, Black!"

"Language!" Black chided. "Raisin, do you kiss your mum with that mouth?"

"I don't kiss my mum—."

Black nodded sympathetically. "Bad relations? That's sad. I'm sorry for you."

"—At least not like you do!" I finished. "You've got to stop interrupting people!" I informed. "Does your face smell like arse this morning, mummy kiss-arse?" I moved closer, staring up at Black in inspection. "Here, maybe I should check for you."

Black frowned at me. "If anyone's face smells like arse this morning, it's yours, Raisin. Always cozening up to professors! Well, I told you not to tutor me, but did you listen? No. And look what happened: you got humiliated!"

"You stole my wand!" I said, pointing my finger at him. "It wasn't very nice! And when I was helping you, too!"

"I'm sorry," Black said, Not Sounding Sorry At All. "It was just there." He shrugged like: What Could He Do?

"Where was it? How did you take it? I had a charm on it to prevent that from happening. You shouldn't have been able to touch it, Black."

Black pouted. "Now that would be telling!"

"Yes! That would be telling, wouldn't it? Telling is exactly what I want you to do for me. So tell me. Now."

Black shook his head. "I am sorry, I can't. It's not in my nature to answer to annoying, whinging little girls like you. Maybe if you turned on the charm a bit, I'd be more amenable."

I turned around and started walking away. "You don't deserve my charm!" I muttered. "Stupid, poncy, little maggot."

"What was that?" Black breathed in my ear, having followed me. I glowered at him. "Are you making fun of me again?"

"Caught that did you? Well, have some more!" I commenced a thorough kicking of Black's shins—which were unprotected and Right There. Really, anyone would do it. "Teachyou to lace my tea with—!"

"Ow!" Black danced away. "Ow! What in Merlin's na—? Stop that now, do you hear me, Raisin?!"

"Teach you to steal my wand," I cried, chasing Black down The Hall, when he tried to run away. "Come back here, you dirty piss pot! I have more kicking to do! My fetish for S and M is at an all particular!"

"Ow! You bugger!"

"Teach you to call me names!"

"I gave it back!" Black said, grabbing onto my leg—holding it hostage, really—so I couldn't kick anymore. He gave it a hard shake. "You s-stop this! You stop this right now, alright? I gave it back, and you know it!"

"Not before you surely contaminated it!" I growled, trying to tug my leg free. Black was strong, he was! Why was Black so strong? "I am g-going to have to hand it over to Fl-Flitwick now to check for spells!"

"No!" Black said. "You don't want to do that! I didn't mean it like that! It was just a joke!"

"Oh?" I was pleased that my threat had gotten Black's attention. "Oh? I don't want to?"

"No, you don't."

"What do I want to do instead? Other than see you dead, that is? See you buried under a pile of shite with my flag stuck in it holding precedence?"

"If all it took was a little joke to get over your shyness, Raisin…"

"Black!" I said, Very Annoyed. He was still holding my leg in his Pincer-Grip, and I couldn't kick him, because It Hurt To Move! Merlin, was this not my week. "What do I want to do?"

"Well, you want to stop struggling, I'll tell you that right now! You're giving me bruises and scuff marks on my trousers!"

"Oh, boohoo!" I wailed. "Scuff marks on your trousers! How will we ever get them off? We'll need magic, and we certainly don't have that! Oh, woe!" Black rolled his eyes, and then decided that yes, my leg did need another Good Shake. "Give me back my leg, Black!" I ordered.

"No!"

"I said, 'give it'!"

"And I said 'no!'"

I tried a different tactic. "Why are you so concerned with holding onto it, anyway?" I asked. "Is it because you can't stand to not touch a part of me? I agree my leg is very nice!"

Black's entire demeanor changed abruptly. "That's how it is, is it?" he said, now leering down at me. He shifted my leg in his grasp so he was now cradling it; and by momentum I was dragged into his chest. "Knew you'd come around! I thought it might be, but I wasn't sure. This is very nice!"

"Uh…"

"See, Raisin! Diggory was right! You are entertaining when you want to be!"

"And you're a dumbarse."

"And, so…ah, ah!" chastised Black, clicking his tongue. "Not very good, Miss Manners! Whose possession is your leg in, hmm? I believe mine."

"I can still damage you!" I said. "Whose willie is my shoe lying against, Black? I believe mi—."

Immediately, Black released my leg. Threw it away, really, is how it can be described. I tumbled to the floor and bounced. "Ack! Easy now, you great arsehole!"

"Don't come near me!" Black shouted, looking indecisive as to whether he wanted to stay in The Hallway and annoy me further or go. I was all for the choice of Black Going. "Don't come near me!"

"My whole plan was to get away!" I snapped back. "Awful, pillocky, twat-y, smelly little bastard!"

"Did you just call me a 'twat'?" Black demanded, evidently staying for the moment. "I don't have a twat!"

"Well you sure as Hades don't have any bollocks!"I yelled, starting to collect my possessions and rise from the floor. Ow, ow, ow, ow! I brandished my wand, and with a flick, my broom was swept up into my arms. I gave Black a cold stare. "Otherwise you would have swallowed this tutoring thing down, and been mature about it."

"I didn't want a tutor!" whined Black. Having watched me rise warily he now had the look of a Trapped Rabbit about him. I thought about advancing, but I was honestly sore from fighting. "I should have been able to drop the class!"

"This is not my fault!" I said. "I am not Professor McGonagall!"

"As good as!" Black said.

I gave him a confused look. "What? What does that mean?"

Black shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. You're a Prefect…"

I sighed. "Black. I have no idea what you're talking about, as per usual, but I am going to go." I gestured at my sweaty sweating pants. "I'm past due for my shower, anyway. In fact, I think my leg has sweated all over you. You have a stain." I nodded at Black's left trouser leg rather near his crotch. "Or, I hope that's sweat."

Black looked down. "So, I do," he observed. "Well, thanks for that, I say."

I smiled sweetly. "You're quite welcome! Always a pleasure to make you uncomfortable. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"I'll see you later, I guess," Black said with a vicious look, seeing me hobble away. "Hoping for a repeat."

I turned my head. "What? Of holding me again?"

"Yea."

"Right." I nodded. "Me too." I would see Black in Hell before I allowed him to touch me further.

(Oh, Evelyn, too soon! Too soon! You said those words too soon! Don't count your chickens before they hatch! You'll regret it!)

(Edit: Wise Words)