Random Corridor off the Entrance Hall.

I mean, it's not like I am deranged or anything. I am not mentally handicapped. I haven't been traumatized by an unhappy childhood or emotionally abused by a parental unit. I haven't been smacked around or harassed unduly. And I am not mad in the head. On the contrary, I had a very peaceful life up until Hogwarts.

I don't think anything is really wrong on the interior at all. I shouldn't be having problems reasoning things out, but I am.

I mean, it's not like Sirius Black is the one true love of my life or anything, is he? It's not like he's the only boy I'll ever be attracted to; even though that seems to be the case now. I mean, it's not like I am never going to get over him. I will. Once Black leaves Hogwarts I will be free to crush on any boy I please. It really will be grand.

But, and here's the kicker, Sirius Black has not left Hogwarts yet. If he continues to prove he's as stupid as he seems, he might never leave Hogwarts. I might be stuck with him for an entire other year. And that would most assuredly be horrid.

Visions of him sneaking up to Ravenclaw Tower at 0400, and barging into my room in his white underpants with oil spread over his skin singing Italian love songs plague me nightly. No matter the fact that the staircase would not allow him to climb up, I am sure Black would find a way. Or even worse, there are visions of Black parading around me on St. Valentine's Day, peacock feather stuck in the brim of his warlock's cap, festive projections of magical hearts and roses swirling around our heads as he serenades me and the rest of Hogwarts in an off-tune baritone to "Come with him, come with him, and let me be his dovey-love." I can't get away from him even in my dreams.

I am beginning to realize that my word means nothing. My threats to Black mean nothing. Nothing to him and nothing to anyone. Black was gob smacked for a bit—perhaps a minute—over my ultimatum that he grow up before he decides to converse again, but right now he is following me to The Library, where I plan on studying with Tamara, and this really, this really cannot fly.

I mean, I did talk to him at his Table, didn't I? The conversation wasn't all in my head. Sirius Black responded back. It looked like he was taking what I said in. And it looked like he was processing it. Barring a possible momentary and very ill-timed deafness on his part, it looked like something had finally clicked. It looked like for at least a bit of time, I would finally get some peace.

Or perhaps what I thought was a Blaze Of Glory that I had marched out in was in fact a Haze Of Delusion.

Black was perhaps only surprised that I had enough bollocks to briefly derail his laughably inferior alpha-male seduction efforts. Perhaps I will never be able to make a believable Aggressive Woman impression on him in the future.

Sadly, and we know this, it is because I am not an Aggressive Woman.

If I were anyone else, perhaps someone prettier, like Suzy Carmichael, or someone crazier like Bellatrix Black, I would be able to scrounge up the confidence to make a second stand, but as it is, I am not any prettier or crazier. I am just Evie.

"Please stop trying to grab my hand!" I finally implored, looking at him; looking at the absolute ridiculous way he had about him.

Grinning happily, Black skipped alongside. "Why?"

"It just would make me more comfortable if you appreciate that on occasion, I like my space, Black."

"Lovey, you should know that it's hard for me to be separate from you. Unlike you, I have had a traumatizing childhood, filled with smacks, harassment, and emotional abuse. So when I find someone—."

"Give that back!" I demanded, horrified, because Black had his hands around my diary. Horrified, that he might have read further on. I lunged at him. "That is my personal journal, Black!"

"Well, I know that. It says that inside the cover. See: 'Property of Evie Ransom. Interlopers Beware.' Am I an Interloper then?"

"Give it back," I said again. "What are—Black, stop flipping through pages!"

Black doggedly held the beloved item out of reach, and I reached for my wand. "Hmm. What else does it say about me, I wonder? Why, I am practically on every page! Raisin! I am flattered!"

"Locomortis!" I cried.

Black immediately seized up, and the book dropped from his hands. Every muscle, except for the ones in his eye-sockets, was paralyzed. I picked up my diary and ran, not waiting for one of his friends to come upon us in suspicion, seeing me with my wand still raised and righteous glory fixed on my face. Only I unfortunately did not get far enough.

"Locomortis!" shouted a voice much more authoritative than I. I did not feel my body tip over or my face smack into the stone floor. Perhaps both good things. "Miss Ransom, I am appalled by your behavior!"

I sent out frantic prayers to Merlin and Morgana that my nose would remain unbroken from the fall and my teeth un-chipped. I gave no thought to prayers over my academic wellbeing as a student or not getting a detention from McGonagall, the professor standing over me. There was really nothing higher-beings could do about inevitables. I was obviously in The Shitter here. "I am appalled!" Professor McGonagall reiterated. "Never did I think you would curse a student! Not once! And here you are, cursing students! What do you have to say for yourself?"

I began to pray that McGonagall's question was rhetorical and she would not punish me harsher over a failure to answer her.

"I can not believe you would do such a thing, Miss Ransom! I am absolutely appalled. Absolutely appalled! Detention!" She finite incantantem'ed Black's body and levitated me to float in front of her. "Shall I ask Mr. Black what happened?" No, I thought at her frantically with my eyes. No. He will lie to you. Ask me. Ask me what happened.

"As you can see, she cursed me, Professor," Black responded, dusting himself off. He nodded his head imperiously at me. "She really is quite unhinged! You may read her journal, if you like. It explains her plots in there."

"What plots?" said McGonagall suspiciously. "Is that her private journal there, Mr. Black?"

"Of course it is. Full of dark admissions of dark deeds."

"Dark deeds, is it? Well, give it over then. Let me see."

I watched impotently as Black walked over to me and yanked it out of my rigor-mortis-like float-y grip. "Here you are—."

McGonagall smacked Black over the head with it. I would have smiled. I promise you I would have.

"Professor McGona—!"

"I am very certain that you deserve more than a good pummeling with this but for the moment I believe my instincts to snuff that ridiculous expression of triumph off your face have been squelched!" McGonagall turned toward me. "Miss Ransom, I know Mr. Black is trying at times, but you must remember to behave like a lady. Ladies do not get in fights. Ladies do not curse people. Have I made myself clear?" I attempted a nod with my eyes. "Good. Now, you will both follow me."

"Both of us?" Black questioned. "Why, I am the injured party here! I am the one who was cursed! I shouldn't have to follow, professor!"

"Who was or who was not the injured party shall be determined in my office, Mr. Black. Now, move!"

Professor McGonagall's Office.

"Sit down, you two!" Professor McGonagall barked at Black and me. Her face was furious. This was it, certainly. This was McGonagall's Detention Face. The Face McGonagall employed whenever she was doling out punishment to The Delinquents.

I had heard about the Face before. Urban Legends had been bandied about it for decades. Students had wet their knickers and spontaneously combusted their wands. I had been a bit curious, the way one is about You-Know-Who's True Face sans squiggly red-eyed make-up, or Dumbledore's Sexuality, but certainly not enough to consciously get myself into trouble. Even though I frequently pass notes in class, I have never been on the receiving end of this look before today. Now, I am a Delinquent. This is how far the boys will make you fall, girls. This is what you will turn into if you start to fancy Sirius Black. Like me, you will become bad.

I still have my pride however. I will not look at Black and see him smirking at me with his stupid, selfish face, and his stupid, twinkle-y eyes.

"I cannot believe this of you, Miss Ransom." McGonagall reamed me with her black-eyed stare. "Mr. Black, I can certainly believe this of, but you, Miss Ransom, my star pupil, how could you do this?"

Like an idiot, I voiced my immediate gratitude. "I didn't know I was your star pupil, professor!"

"Kiss-arse," whispered Black out of the side of his mouth. "Can never hold it back, can you?"

"Mr. Black!" McGonagall said. "Keep it civil or you will get three weeks of detentions instead of two! And, Miss Ransom!" I flinched. "That statement of mine was not in need of a reply. In fact, it was rhetorical. Are you certain you are aware of what the term 'rhetorical' means, Miss Ransom?"

"Uh…um. Yes, professor. Yes, I am."

"What do you mean so cavalierly by 'yes'?"

"I mean that I am aware of its meaning, professor. However I was unaware that you did not need a response as the way you ended with my name at a higher pitch than the words preceding it denoted a question mark. Therefore, I answered you. Also, I am sorry."

Professor McGonagall squinted her eyes at me. "Have you been spending too much time around Mr. Black, Miss Ransom? Is that where this absurdity is coming from?" My mouth must have dropped open in offense, for McGonagall added, "I have no other explanation for the lack of decorum I witnessed in you today and the lack of decorum I continue to witness, Miss Ransom, then to call it as it is: an absurdity. Your behavior has become absurd."

Black started snickering.

McGonagall swiveled her head like a raptor. "Mr. Black! I would certainly feel more penitent if I were in your shoes! You are receiving double Miss Ransom's punishment!"

"I actually enjoy your detentions, professor!" Black said. "This is because I enjoy your company!"

"Well I certainly do not enjoy yours, Mr. Black! Mr. Filch may be a…strange young man, but in this instance I share his sentiments about Corporal Punishment. If I had the choice I would crack down on you so hard your children's children would wake up with a twinge in their hands forty years from now, saying, 'Oh!'"

"Professor McGonagall!"

"Oh, do not give me that puppy-eyed look, Mr. Black! I only confess to a desire to hitting you over the knuckles with my wand. I certainly won't string you up by your thumbs and leave you in the dungeon!"

I chanced a glance at Black, now that he had his attention firmly fixed on our professor, and saw that he was wearing a large smile. "You are a dirty bird!" he said, admiringly. "You are full of surprises! I confess, professor, I myself, am quite attracted to authority—."

"Three weeks, Mr. Black!" cried McGonagall, looking incredibly agitated. "Three weeks of detention. Four, if you indeed finish that sentence!"

"That is a dilemma," Black noted.

Professor McGonagall nodded, ruffles in place again. "Good. I am glad you think so, Mr. Black."

"Raisin tells me I have a test this Thursday. And of course, there is Merlin Save Us From Exam Week starting Monday. If I rack up more offenses with you, when will I have time to study, I wonder?"

"Another professor might say 'Perhaps you should have thought of that before you entered into a wizard's duel,' Mr. Black. However, as I am not another professor, and your Head of House besides, I make it my obligation to see that all of my students graduate with the highest scores possible. You can be certain that I will allow you time to study. Though, you should also note, Mr. Black, it remains in your best interests to not offend me further."

"That's very thoughtful of you, professor. And wise."

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Black."

"However, I would like to point out that I did not get involved in a wizard's duel with Raisin," Black said, and I wanted to shake him. "You make it sound much more mutual than it was. She cursed me, professor. I know you saw only the end product but I can assure you that I did not lift my wand to her. It was all quite sordid, actually."

McGonagall looked at me squarely. I knew my judgment had not ended. I could hear My Hopes letting out their last, unapologetic, strangled breath, and I have to confess, shamefully, my face wrinkled of its own accord and my eyes started to smart. Incredibly, I realized, I really could not remain mad at Black over my own inadequacy to control my emotions. Incredibly, I was sitting in McGonagall's office because I, and not Black, had done something wrong. And this was Shameful.

"Mr. Black's sequence of events rings true with what I witnessed, Miss Ransom," said Professor McGonagall. "I apologize, Mr. Black, for forgetting that you had not cursed her. Miss Ransom, what do you have to say for yourself? Perhaps I should suspend your Prefect duties while you take your detentions? I am sure if I paired Miss Jones with Miss Dice the two would do a more than satisfactory job of patrolling these halls."

"Oh, please, professor, don't take away my prefect duties!" Obviously, the moment for begging was at hand. "I love them! I really do!" Black snorted.

"Is that so, Miss Ransom?"

"Yes. Yes, it is so! And Camilla Jones shouldn't be working with Mara Dice anyway, professor. The two hate each other!"

McGonagall harrumphed. "All the more reason for them to work together, I say, and get their differences sorted out."

"But, Professor McGonagall!" I decided to lay all my cards out on the table, for Camilla would truly not be a Happy Sally—nor would she thank me—if what was about to come to pass was to really come to pass, "This is not an ordinary situation! This involves a boy!"

"I was not born yesterday, Miss Ransom!" McGonagall chastised me. "I know that feuds between young females commonly involve males in one capacity or another. And if there is a problem involving two students here that is so large it precludes any possible acquaintance between them then it would be in everyone's best interests for someone—perhaps I—to mediate a solution. That said, I will take your opinion on the matter into consideration. Perhaps only morning detentions are needed for you to ruminate over the consequences of your actions."

"Professor McGonagall!" Black said, his mouth having been silent for as long as it could apparently take. "Do you hear yourself? Morning detentions are no kind of punishment! Not for her!"

"Mr. Black! I did not give you leave to speak!"

"Someone has to!" said Black. "Obviously, it's not going to be Miss Priss sitting over there with her wand up her arse—."

McGonagall rose from her seat. "Mr. Black!"

"I have something to say!" Black declared. "And I will say it come one more detention or no!"

"Then I suggest you write your memoirs, Mr. Black, because I am absolutely uninterested in any assessment you have regarding the matter of Miss Ransom's punishment! I am the disciplinarian here, not you!"

Black growled, and, in a rush of drama, stood up as well. "I am the injured party here! Me! Where is my recompense?" He pointed at me. "I demand recompense!"

"Sit down, Mr. Black!"

Ravenclaw 6th Year Girls' Dorm.

"Evie, are you…" Tamara's voice came from somewhere hazy, and I looked up, snapping open my bed curtains, and attempting to focus my eyes through a bizarre blurry mess. "Are you…crying?"

"What?" I said, feeling my cheeks. Nothing felt out of the ordinary. Perhaps I was sweating? "Of course not."

"I heard you from the hallway. Your face is all wet," she continued. "Did Black give you an Expo-Expire…that Expo thing again? That was a nasty business a few weeks ago when that happened. People still talk about it!"

"Expungent," I supplied, liberally patting at my face with my pillow. No reason to leave my face wet for Lucille to discover when she came back from wherever it was she went to these days. "And no, Tammy. If Black did that he would be dead. I am apparently leaking because Black did something only a bit less foul. I'll tell you about it later when I'm able to stop picturing a Giant smearing his intestines across The Entrance Hall."

Tamara worried her bottom lip. "Please don't kill him!" she begged. "He's really cute."

"Ah, well, in that case…"

"Thanks, Evie. You're a great friend!"

"I'll try not to bludgeon up his face too badly for his coffin showing," I said. "Perhaps it'll all be under the beltline. Maybe a disembowelment or a castration. Perhaps he'll be drawn and quartered and he'll have his parts nailed to each entrance of the ladies' bathrooms. 'Beware Females,' it will say, 'of Bad Men and What They Make You Do.'"

Tamara, bless her, giggled. "What did he do this time?" she asked. "Are you guys a couple yet?"

"Oh, God no!" Thank Merlin That Horror had not come to pass like so many others. Though, perhaps actually writing it down makes it a possibility. In which case, I should summarily scratch it out.

"Having a boyfriend can be nice. Anthony and I are a couple now," Tamara said, and then blushed. Merlin, to be so nonjudgmental and innocent. "He's very sweet, don't you think? He talks about you a lot."

I wrinkled my nose. "No surprise there," I said.

Tamara's brow puckered. "What? Can you speak a little louder, Evie? I'm sorry, but my hearing's not that good. My muggle doctor says it's an Endocrine Problem."

"This is the first I've heard of that," I joked really badly, and then quickly continued, "Doesn't the Endocrine System have to do with hormonal secretions in glands and such?"

"What?"

"Sorry. Sorry. It was nothing. I meant those small sticky round things in the body that produce the sexy feelings." I took a bite out of my dark chocolate bar. Don't let any wizard anywhere ever tell you that you cannot conjure edible food. Because you can. And if not, then I will probably be getting sick here in a couple minutes. One more thing to be depressed about since a stomach poisoning will certainly cause me to miss classes. "Tell me more about Anthony. After so many years of living near a swamp have the bog fumes finally got to his brain?"

"We both live near that swamp."

"Shh. Shh, Tammy. That's a secret."

"What?"

"Sorry. People seem to be having problems understanding me lately. Lucille thinks it's because I'm as mad as a poltergeist."

"Maybe you're just in love!" Tamara said, sighing; giving me what had to be her honest opinion on the matter. "Do you get all nervous whenever Sirius walks into the room?"

"Yes," I admitted. "But that has nothing to do with me loving him. That has to do with the fact that he makes every female nervous. It's the way he looks, you see."

"But isn't that love?" said Tamara. "That nervous, twitchy feeling?"

"The muggles say nervousness around another person is simply your brain secreting adrenaline."

"Do you consider yourself to be a muggle?"

Surprised, I said, "That's a very astute question. I don't think I want to answer that."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know the answer. On one hand, if I do consider myself to be a muggle, then muggle body advice sounds pretty appropriate, and accepting that theory makes the notion that I am in love with Sirius Black all the more clinical: meaning that if 'love' is a product of bodily secretions then all I have to do to fall out of 'love' is to find something that stops me from secreting. On the other hand, listening to that twaddle puts me in a bad mood. There is a lot to be said for the blissful ignorance that a lack of science brings."

"Hmm."

"What I mean, simply, is that I honestly don't know. Either way I'm buggered, because I still fancy Black like mad."

Tamara smiled. "I knew it!" she said. "I told Lucille and Cam, and they told me not to say anything to you, but I knew it. I knew you liked him. I think he likes you too," Tamara continued. "He's always following you around, leaving you notes and things."

I smiled sarcastically. "By things, do you mean Expungents, Tamara? Because if so, then he's like the most sensitive boyfriend ever. I agree."

Tamara shook her head. "No, silly. I mean like candy."

For a moment, I felt paranoid. "Black has never left me any candy. I would kill him if he did. Did he give you something to give to me?"

"Didn't he give you a chocolate cupid in third year?"

"A chocolate cupid filled with Aging Potion? Why, yes, he did. Thank you for reminding me. Bastard Black made it wrong though, and I was sick for two weeks. He really has the most caring heart, our Black. I remember my parents had to buy me new robes because all my sick turned my old ones fuchsia. I can't believe I forgot that! You're right, Tammy. Black is quite extraordinary."

"And you still love him even though he was naughty to you."

I laughed. "I am like crazy, stupid in love with him. He makes me stupid. He makes me do all kinds of stupid, stupid things, like get detentions, and stare at him, and just get, like, unbelievably, intensely infuriated with him. It is, like, the Biggest Mistake Of The Universe Ever. A monumental, epic cock-up the likes of which Merlin could not have foreseen. I would like to kill him, but that would mean that he would no longer even exist in a purely abstract way and so that means that I can't kill him."

"I'm sorry!" said Tamara. "But it really would be awful if you killed him! You'd have to go to Azkaban."

"There is that. Home to madmen, serial killers, and various other career criminals alike. Sounds like home, it does. Sounds like home."

Tamara leaned forward. "Are you okay?"

"No," I said honestly.

"Oh."

"Do you want some chocolate?" I picked up my wand, and levitated my book bag over to the bed. Rummaging through it, I found what I had been looking for, and handed it off to Tamara. "Here. I was saving this bar for an emergency but I feel it's impolitic to be eating in front of you when you're empty-handed."

Tamara took the bar with a thank-you. "I could have just nibbled on the one you've got in your hand. You didn't have to give me this."

"I might get sick from my bar," I said. "You won't from that, unless you eat it, like, super-fast. So, don't."

"You're really sweet, Evie."

I shrugged. After a minute of silence and chewing, I said, "Thanks for listening to me. Lucille has a problem with that."

"With listening to you?"

"I'd say she has a problem listening in general. But to me in particular."

"Are you going to tell her that you're in love with Sirius?"

Ha! "I'd appreciate it if we kept this conversation between the two of us. Which means, if you see Sirius Black or Lucille or even Camilla, Tammy, you remain mum, alright? It'd literally be the End Of The World for me if any of them found out that I have feelings."

"Feelings for Sirius Black."

"That's correct."