Author's Notes: So here it is, the second chapter of I Blame the Muffin. Sorry it's a bit late; I know I promised the 26th, but I got back later than I had expected last night (I was away, you see), and I wasn't in the mood to type ten handwritten pages. Anyway, James feels just a bit out of character in this chapter; don't kill me for it, I did my best. Well… I guess that's about it. Enjoy!

I Blame the Muffin
Chapter 2: In Which it All Goes Wrong

An hour later, I was sitting in the grass by the lake, staring at Potter, who sat a hundred yards away. He was talking animatedly to those horrid friends of his – well, I didn't think them to be horrid at the time; I actually thought they had rather good taste in a leader of sorts. He looked so perfect, casually leaning back, one arm supporting him as he ruffled his hair with the other. He'd mostly grown out of the habit, but on occasion he'd run his hand through his hair, perfecting it….

"Lily!" Elizabeth brought me back to earth. "You're staring at… Potter." She shuddered.

"I told you she's lost it," Catherine said in an audible whisper.

"What's wrong with staring at James?" I asked angrily. "He's so… perfectly perfect." I sighed dreamily.

"I was under the impression that the day I heard you say anything that stupid about anyone, especially Potter, would be the day that the sky fell," Elizabeth muttered. "So I'm a bit worried for my life now."

I didn't respond, I only continued to stare unwaveringly at the black-haired boy with hazel eyes sitting across the way.

"He's so handsome, isn't he?" I asked aloud after a few minutes. "Imagine how unbelievably gorgeous our children will be…."

"WHAT?!" Catherine and Elizabeth exclaimed – and in perfect union, I might add.

"Did you just imply—" Elizabeth stopped, seemingly unable to continue.

"Did you just imply procreating with your sworn arch-enemy?" Catherine provided, choking.

"Yes…" I replied. I flopped down onto the grass, day dreaming about things I would most certainly not be daydreaming about under any relatively-normal circumstances. But, as you may have guessed, this circumstance was nowhere near normal.

"Oh no. He's coming over here!" Elizabeth shrieked after a few minutes.

"Uh-oh. He can't see Lily in this state! He'll be sure to tell the entire school by the end of the day that she's fallen madly, obsessively in love with him. Lily'll have to transfer to Beauxbatons!" said Catherine, a note of panic in her voice. Had I been in a capable intellectual state at the time, I probably would have thanked her for sounding so genuinely concerned, but I of course was not, so I didn't.

I heard Potter's footsteps coming, and I snapped back into a sitting position. When he reached us, he stopped and sat down next to me, closer than I would have normally considered comfortable.

"Hey Evans. How's your Saturday been?" he asked casually, ruffling his hair.

Once I came out of my gaping stare at his gorgeous hazel eyes, I managed to squeak, "Good." I fixed my hair nervously, wondering what he must think.

"So, Evans, I was wondering if you'd like to hang out a bit today. It's not a Hogsmeade weekend, I know, but we could still have a bit of fun," he said, smiling.

I could have sworn I was drooling like a newborn who hadn't yet figured out how to swallow as I said, "Sure." Why can't I say anything more than one-word sentences? I thought, mentally slapping myself. He must think I'm such an idiot.

"It's settled, then," he said charmingly, standing up. "I'll go tell my friends where I'm off to, and I'll be back in a minute." He flashed me an absolutely dazzling (or so I thought at the time) grin before striding away.

"Are you completely insane?" Catherine hissed as so as Potter was a safe distance away.

"No…" I replied dreamily, staring at Potter as he greeted his friends.

"You've just agreed to a date with… Potter," said Elizabeth with a shutter. "Remember him? The prat? Your sworn enemy? The one you've hated with every ounce of your being since the second you set eyes on him?"

"How could anyone hate James?" I asked dreamily, as though it were impossible not to. "I mean – look at him. If that's not perfect, I don't know what is."

"You've lost your mind, Lily, I swear," muttered Catherine, shaking her head sadly.

At that moment, Potter returned. "Er… shall we go, then?" he asked, almost uncertainly.

"Yes," I sighed, sounding rather like a love-struck puppy.

He offered me his arm, and I stood up, taking it willingly. We started walking, away from my friends and away from anything relatively sane.

"So, what would you like to do on this fine Saturday afternoon?" he asked, sounding so incredibly, wonderfully charming.

"I don't know, what would you like to do?" I asked. I was drooling over him, my eyes not once leaving his perfect, handsome face. Meanwhile, as I was hopelessly melting into Potter, he just grinned like an idiot.

"Let's go get some lunch, then, and we'll decide later." I nodded weekly.

We walked in silence towards the castle, as I continued to drool over him. (Surprise, surprise. It was what I had been doing the entire day, after all.) We'd reached the Great Hall in five minutes' time.

Sitting down next to me at the Gryffindor table, Potter asked with a knowing smile, "So, why'd you finally decided to go out with me, Evans? Given in to the Potter Charm at long last?" He smirked.

"Yes. You're so handsome and funny and witty and intelligent and… perfect," I gushed. This, ladies and gentlemen, successfully tops the list of Stupidest Things Ever Uttered by Lily Evans at Any Time. (And that includes "Mommy, where do babies come from?" when I was seven.)

Potter grinned sheepishly, ruffling his hair.

During the rest of the meal I just stared at him, my head propped up by my arm, barely touching my food.

"Hey!" he exclaimed when he'd finished eating. "I've got something I want to show you." He set his napkin down, grabbed my hand, and pulled me out of the Great Hall. I squeezed his hand like there was no tomorrow.

"James… why are we standing in from of a statue of a one-eyed witch?"

"You'll see," he replied, grinning. He pulled his wand out of his robes, tapping the one-eyed witch with his wand and muttering "Dissendium" as he did so. The statue's hump slid open to reveal an opening, large enough for a person to fit in.

"It's so amazing how you know all these secret passages, James," I gushed, still clutching his hand.

And – surprise, surprise – he didn't respond, he just grinned like a madman.

After a moment, he let go of my hand. "We'll have to go one at a time. You can go first, if you'd like," he said.

"Er… alright, then," I replied nervously. I pulled myself up, and slid into the tunnel feet first. I fell for what felt like an eternity, supported by a stone slide beneath me. At long last, I came to a stop, landing on the cold, damp earth of the passageway with a thud. James followed not long after.

"Lumos," he muttered when he'd stood up. A narrow tunnel lay before us. "We're going to have to go single-file, of course. But we can both use" – he fumbled with the clasp of his bag, pulling out a long slivery cloak – "this."

"An Invisibility Cloak!" I gasped. "You're really something, James," I said, grabbing his hand again and leaning against his shoulder.

He glanced at me almost… nervously? Then he said, "We've got to put this on so that no one can see us when we get to the other end of the tunnel." And with that, he threw the cloak over us. It was a tight squeeze, but in my state I wished it was tighter.

"Alright, let's go, then." We set of down the tunnel, Potter but a few inches in front of me.

It was a rather long journey, and I wondered where he might be taking me. However, I realized that Potter wanted it kept secret until we arrived, so instead I asked, "Where did you get your Indivisibility Cloak, James?"

"My father," he murmured. "He… died… in the war against Voldemort. He was an Auror, see."

"Oh, James!" I cried, running around to his front and throwing myself into his startled arms. "I'm so sorry," I whispered in his ear.

"It's okay," he replied. "It was a few summers ago. I'm over it."

"Okay," I said, sniffling a bit. Potter's father dying was like my father dying (or so it seemed at the time).

I let go of him rather reluctantly. I felt like I could stay in his arms forever; but he had a surprise to show me, so I moved back to my spot behind him and we continued walking.

"Well, this is our stop!" said Potter brightly, after what seemed like an hour or more of walking. We were standing in front of a set of stone steps that lead up farther than I could see. "Up we go, then," he muttered as we began to climb.

We climbed those steps for an eternity, it seemed like, and then, at long last, the steps stopped, and above Potter's head I could see a trapdoor. He carefully pushed the trapdoor open and stepped out; I followed.

"Oh, wow! We're in the storeroom of Honeydukes!" I exclaimed, grabbing his hand again and squeezing tightly.

"We've got to be quiet," he whispered, leading me through the storeroom into the shop itself. We waited by the door until, after what seemed like ages, a plump witch in very bright pink robes waddled in and we were able to carefully slip out through the open door.

Whipping off the Invisibility Cloak, Potter took a deep breath of fresh air, exhaling with a loud, "Aaaah!"

"There's nothing like Hogsmeade on a non-Hogsmeade weekend!"

"No, there's not…" I sighed, staring at him.

"To the Three Broomsticks, then?" he asked brightly. I nodded, and we set off down the street.

Several hours later, after a wonderful time at the Three Broomsticks, Zonko's, and of course, Honeydukes, we arrived at the Fat Lady, still laughing.

"Password?" she asked.

"Amortentia," Potter replied promptly, and she swung forward to admit us. We entered to find the common room completely deserted.

"Everyone must still be at dinner," said Potter. "Want to go back downstairs and join the others?"

"No," I replied, "I'd much rather stay here with you." I grinned mischievously, sitting down on the couch.

"Alright," he said, walking over and taking a seat next to me.

"I've had a great day, James," I murmured, "but do you know what would make it better?"

"What?"

"This," I responded confidently, placing my hands on my knees and leaning over to kiss him.

Fasten your seat belts, children, for this is when it all goes wrong.

He was surprised at first, I could tell, but in a few seconds he began to kiss me back. I wrapped my arms around my neck, and his encircled my waist, pulling me closer so that I was lying on top of him. I allowed his tongue to enter my mouth, and we lay there on the couch, wrapped in each others arms and snogging happily for quite a while.

And then, realization dawned on me. I was making out with Potter. Not only was it unnatural, but it was downright disgusting! The muffin, I thought vaguely. The muffin had something to do with this. I was just about to pull away from him when the portrait hole opened and someone entered the room.

More Author's Notes: Dun dun dun! Cliffhanger ending ;D I feel so evil. Anyway, I hope you liked it! Don't forget to review; I'll love you forever if you do. Er… well, probably not, but I'll be extremely grateful.

Anyway, just so you should know, this fic takes place in sixth year. Just thought I'd mention that. (It'll make a bit more sense in the next chapter why I decided they should be in sixth year rather than seventh.)