Yes, yes, I know, I know. I update too slowly, I suck, why does it take me so long to edit a simple chapter, etc. etc. I can do nothing but apologize as per usual, and just reiterate the fact that I've been really, ridiculously busy. Junior year is going to kill me, and the two APs, college classes, and after school shows aren't really helping. The story HAD to take a backseat, because my future really is just more important, and everything I'm doing this year is basically shaping it.

I've been trying, I really have, to juggle school, a social life, and my writing all at once, but there just aren't enough hours in the day, you know? The good news is that, even though it's been slow in coming, I've been working on chapter six while editing four and five simultaneously, so chapter six is well on its way to being done. I'm actually slightly proud of it, to tell you the truth.

Now, I know this in no way makes up for the astonishingly long wait for THIS chapter, but it's the only thing I can offer. That and the fact that this chapter is sixteen pages long, in 7.5 Georgia font.

I'm still going to be giving sneak peaks away, and I'm vowing to spend more time on my LJ, and actually update it every now and then.

Now, this is the part where I get on my knees and thank two people so profusely that it becomes pathetic.Selly – No one else will look forward to my four am freak outs over finding another word for pity like you. And while this should only make you crazy, it also makes me love you and your awesome editing abilities, and the fact that you just ARE a walking thesaurus. WORD UP, G.
Kat – Man oh man, where would I be without you? Well, first off, this chapter would have at least 77 more commas, and about 38 more semicolons, not to mention some horrible spelling and grammar atrocities. It thrills me to see your "Bold, Italic, Size Twelve Font Parentheses" in my emails. And it sounds sick, but no, I'm not kidding. I looooove you, Katizzle, and my story would be no where without you.

Leditor from the Editor:
"wassup ma peeps? how it be rockin? i be mad tite, juss rockin n rollin and doin all kinda things. well, this be the mad updated rockin chapta foe. it be mad updated and stizzuff. we be hopin you be likin this. It would be mad tite if you g's could leave yo numba n tell us what u be thinkin n if yous be likin it. holla back son.

TRANSLATION:
Hey, guys. What's going on with you? I'm good, just keeping on keeping on. Well, this is the updated version of chapter four. It's really different, and we hope you like it. It would be really great if you left feedback and told us what you thought.

WHAT CAUSED ME TO THINK I WAS MAD GANGSTER:
Erica (11:57:33 AM): WORD UP, G!
Sel (11:57:40 AM): did you already pizzost chapter 4 or is thissizz a new chappie?
Erica (11:58:27 AM): it's the remix, son. old shit, reworded. DAWG.
Sel (11:59:13 AM): HOMMIE!
Sel (11:59:16 AM): THATS MAD PIMP.
Erica (12:00:01 PM): yo, i know son, i know, it's madddd g.

Holla foo's."

Letta' from the BETA:
"Yo, chicks and chicos. Uh... yo. I be Kat, the BETA as yall like... know and stuff. I've absolutely no idea what to say, and so can't top the Letidors from the Editor, but hey! So, what's up with me since very few of yall actually know me... I don't think. Maybe? I don't know. I'm seventeen, and I'm a redneck, and it rocks. Yo. This would be longer, but you know what? I'm fixin' to watch Attila, which has the schmazzy Gerard Butler in it (he's my whore... long story. Well, not really. Ha), and he's like shirtless and stuff, so yes. Enjoy le chapter. Erica is awesome, like whoah. It's my FAVORITE chapter in the story thus far, 'cause it's super schmexy schtuff. I swear. Aaaah. Lovely fluff.

Cloud, Leon, and a pirate hooker,
--Kat"

These girlies amuse me like no one else.

Now I've said basically all there is to say, they've said all there is to say . . . on with the chapter.

Chapter Four: Dripping Towels and Fluttery Feelings

Sometime during the seasonally transitional months between October and December, an amazing transformation had occurred that had nothing to do with the seasons, or the weather, or the change of scenery. James and I had quickly progressed from mere dorm mates to friends. Good friends. Very good friends, in fact.

And no one was more surprised by this than myself.

Even more surprising was that we did, after all, have some things in common. We even found some of the same things funny. More than once in classes, the teacher would say something, or I would notice someone, and it would be so hysterical to me that I'd have to practically stuff my fist into my mouth to keep from embarrassing myself, while the rest of the class remained unawares. But then I'd turn around to look at James, to see his shoulders shaking with barely constrained laughter. And we would glance at each other and smile as if sharing the most secret joke in the world.

Even more often, I'd be somewhere with Sophie and turn around to find James smiling at me across the table, down the hall, inside the Charms classroom. If he was standing behind me, he'd poke my shoulder, or touch my hip, or nudge my waist with his own, just to let me know he was near. It was very comforting to know he was usually just a smile, a look, or a touch away.

He still teased me, and I still pretended to hate it; though, I think we both knew how much I secretly loved it. He would easily infuriate me with his laid back view of everything, his carefree attitude, and his cocky grin. We would still pointlessly debate about the most mundane things. Sometimes I won, and sometimes he did, but he always, always made me see his point. James could easily rile me up, and he knew it. It was never cruel or mean or anything more than teasing, but sometimes he did take it too far. But then he'd do something charming or so ridiculously sweet to make up for it that I found myself forgetting what he did to make me mad in the first place.

Sometimes he'd sneak out at night when he thought I was asleep and come back to close to three in the morning. He'd creep into my room and place something on my dresser while I lay there trying my hardest not to smile. In the morning I'd always wake up to see my alarm clock and a package of sugar quills sitting innocently next to it. He never told me how he did it, and I never asked. It was, strangely enough, one of the very few things I didn't want all the answers to.

I did have to wonder how much of this friendship was simply out of necessity. We did live together; we did work and study together. Would we really have been the same type of friends without these circumstances? But that wasn't even the biggest of my worries. No, the most unnerving thing was how easily I got used to him just being there, how dependent I was getting on being able to count on James for everything. After all, there was no way that James Potter, boy wonder, would ever need me as much as I needed him. That was the hardest part to admit - that I needed James. I needed that reassuring smile at every prefect meeting; I needed every secret laugh during class, every wink across the hall, every fleeting touch on my arm to keep me sane. I needed to have him as my friend; I wanted to have him as my friend. I liked being part of the growing whirlwind that was his life.

And though I'd never admit it to anyone, I was beginning to enjoy getting caught up in the magic that was James Potter.

"Oooh, Lily! This one will look so nice on you!" exclaimed a squealing Sophie as she dragged me to a stack of black dress robes. She shuffled expertly through the clothes, locating my size.

I stared at the robes dangling off the hanger in her hand while wondering why the intricate embroidery and clean cut design didn't excite me. "I don't know, Soph. It's just… I don't know."

She sighed, sliding the robes back into place. "You've said that about the past six dresses, Lily. Pick one already, would you?"

"I can't just pick one. This is the most important event so far this year. It has to be perfect."

And it did. I'd been planning this Winter Ball with James for months per Professor McGonagall's request. I'd been killing myself – and James, a bit, too – getting the band, the music, the food, the decorations…It was a hectic two months and with only two weeks left till the ball, things were only getting worse. I had never seen the prefects so divided. The Muggleborns wanted it to be Muggle dress; the Purebloods wanted dress robes only. The Ravenclaws only wanted it to be open to seventh years while the Hufflepuffs wanted it to be open to fourth year and up. The teachers didn't like the band that was playing; the prefects didn't like that it would end at midnight…and the list went on and on.

James found it amusing - my slowly reaching insanity - and told me so on more than one occasion. His only response to my screaming, ranting, and raving was telling me to lighten up. He thought I was taking this too seriously. Maybe I was. But, this was my first event as Head Girl. The way the rest of the school viewed me and my ideas all depended on this one ball. No one seemed to understand that.

"Fine," said Sophie, apparently giving up. "You find something to wear."

"Soph –"

"Lily, I'm worried about you," she whispered. She grabbed my hand, tugging me over to the dressing rooms. "You're not eating right – when you do happen to eat that is, you're barely getting any sleep, you don't pay attention in class, you spend all your free time on that balcony of yours, scribbling notes for this stupid ball – "

"I do not!" I replied indignantly, even though, of course, it was true. But Sophie didn't need to know that.

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled me into a dressing room before replying. "Don't lie to me. First off, I can tell when you do, and secondly, James can vouch for everything I've just said."

"James?" I whispered right back, "What does he have to do with anything?"

"He was the one told me about you hauling yourself away –"

I was having a hard figuring out why James would even notice. "He talked to you about me?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Yes, Lily. He talked to me about you. He's worried about you, too. And if you hadn't spent all your time going crazy over this ball, you would've known that."

"You don't get it," I whined. "None of you get it."

"Get what, Lily?" she asked calmly.

I sat down on the chair staring at my face in the mirror and really seeing for the first time how terrible I looked. I seemed thinner, though not in a good way; my hair was thrown into a haphazard ponytail, as though I simply hadn't cared to do anything else with it; my normally light skin looked paler somehow, and even the freckles sprinkled across my face look sickly. My eyes looked almost gaunt and sunken in, and since when did I have bag under my eyes?

I took a few minutes before I answered. "This ball is going to alter how everyone views me as Head Girl. It's going to be the deciding factor on whether or not they can look back and say that I was amazing…or say that I should've never even tried. I want them to think I'm amazing, Sophie – so much."

Her eyes were sympathetic. "I understand that; really, I do. But it's not as important as your health."

"My health is fine. Really. I swear, I didn't even notice that anything was wrong until you brought it up."

She looked at me as if trying to decide something. "You're not going to work on the ball at all today."

"What are you talking about?"

Sophie grabbed my arm again, pulling me into a standing position. "The first thing you are going to do is find a dress. And you will find one. Then, you're going back to the castle, eating a nice, long, full meal, and then you are going to have a much needed rest. After that, you can worry about the ball all you want."

I shook my head furiously as she dragged me out of the dressing room and into the store, shifting through dress robes. "No, I can't do that, Sophie. I have to see if the decorations have been delivered yet, and James and I need to pick out a centerpiece for the tables, and I need to ask Dumbledore if it'd be alright to have snowflakes falling from the ceiling and…what are you doing?"

Sophie looked up from the dress that she was currently piling onto my arm – one of many it seemed. "I am finding you a dress to wear since you're too inept to do it yourself. And I meant it when I said no talk about this ball."

"But –"

She sent me a glare and pushed a green dress robe with lace trim into my hand. "Shut up."

"Sophie, I am perfectly capable of finding my own dress."

She raised her eyebrow. "Then why have we been here for two hours already?"

I felt my face heat up. "Because nothing in here is…perfect enough."

"Nothing's perfect enough for you," she said, rolling her eyes.

I gently put the dresses onto a nearby chair. "Thanks for taking care of me, Sophie. Really, it means a lot. But I can find a dress on my own. You know me. I want things a certain way, and sometimes, I'm not sure what way until I see it. Something like this," I gestured to the racks of clothing, "is definitely one of those things I've got to find on my own."

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll give you twenty minutes to find a dress on your own. After that, you've got to try on these."

I smiled. "Thanks. I mean it."

Fifteen minutes later, I was wishing I'd already tried on the dresses Sophie picked out and let that have been the end of it. I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to wear, but so far I hadn't seen it. And then…I saw it. It was propped up on a mannequin in the far corner of the store, as if it was too important to be with all the other dress robes. I couldn't imagine why – with its pink flowers, carefully embroidered on the white satin of the dress, and its smooth lines and seams – it certainly wasn't anything extraordinary, or different. But it was so nice to me, and it looked so pretty, and for some reason that I couldn't quite put my finger on, I had a feeling that it would fit and compliment me.

"Oh, that's a great one, you've found, m'dear," a raspy voiced said from somewhere.

I turned from the dress, seeing the plump old lady who must have owned the shop. "How much is it?" I breathed, fingering the smooth material.

"400 Galleons," came the reply.

I nearly choked. 400 Galleons could have bought me a whole Quidditch team, practically. "Oh," I said, disappointment lining my voice.

"'Tis no ordinary dress, dearie," she explained. "It's magically designed to modify itself to fit the wearer. No alterations would need to be done, no charms used to get rid of unwanted weight…it does it all on its own."

"Can I try it on?" I nearly begged. "Please?"

She smiled as if I wasn't the first person to want to try on a dress that I knew I could never afford. "Of course, Love."

It was a beautiful dress, I mused, staring at myself in the mirror for the second time that day. The bodice fit me well; it was tight enough to have a slimming effect, and yet it didn't make it seem as if I was wearing a corset. It flared out from waist, not too much, not too little, and with the right hair style it would have been…perfect.

"It looks amazing, Lily," Sophie said, when I stepped out of the dressing room. "You look so…elegant."

Elegant was a good word for it, I thought, as I stood in front of the three way mirror, fiddling with my hair to see what would work best.

"Down," Sophie said, motioning to my hair. "Down and curling would look best."

I nodded, twirling around in the dress, wishing that I could have gotten it. No matter what angle you looked at it from, it was beautiful.

"You're right, James. She is pretty."

I turned, startled at the voice – the younger, childlike voice. My heart pounding wildly, I stared at James, who stood there grinning like an idiot – albeit a very cute one – his hand clasped protectively around a much smaller one. One that belonged to a smiling girl who looked to be around ten years old. She had the same messy black hair as James, though hers was more feminine and much thinner. Her hazel eyes looked sunken in, and though she was smiling as widely as James, she still looked sad.

I stood there, transfixed and unable to say anything. It was Evelien. It had to be. I doubted James was friends with very many ten year olds that just happened to look like him. I knew I should've said something, knew I should've done more than stand like a lump, but I couldn't. What was a person supposed to say to a ten year old girl who was very possibly dying? Nothing seemed appropriate enough.

Gingerly touching the soft material of the skirt, Evelien stepped forward, her eyes wide. "That dress makes you look beautiful."

Her bold comment surprised me and I felt my face heat up. "You're just like your brother," I mumbled sheepishly.

She looked confused. "James tells you that you look beautiful?"

I turned even redder. "No. You both make me blush," I corrected.

"I'm confused," said Sophie, looking from James to me, to Evelien and then back to me.

James smiled, placing his hands on Evelien's shoulders. "This is my sister, Evelien."

"This is your sister?" exclaimed Sophie, as she studied the two of them. "Well, it makes sense, I guess. You look alike. I mean, hi, nice to meet you."

He smiled, as he ruffled Evelien's hair. "And to think - all this time, I thought she was adopted."

We all laughed and I struggled to say something as a tense silence passed between us. My mind screamed at me to say something, anything to her, but I was drawing a blank. Holding a conversation with a ten year old child who just happens to be struggling with cancer was not something I normally had to deal with. But I couldn't just stand there like an oaf – even though I was doing a pretty good job of it so far. And then, before I could stop myself, I blurted, "So how are you feeling…Not that you aren't feeling fine - just that I wanted to know if you're feeling okay. Not that you shouldn't feel okay or anything. You definitely should. You probably are – feeling okay, that is."

Well, wasn't that just the most articulate sentence known to man?

Sophie gaped at me. James shook his head in a pitying way. Evelien just stared … and then she sighed. "He told you, didn't he?"

I snapped my head back towards James, whose smile was rapidly diminishing. "Yeah, I didn't think it would be a problem – "

"Problem?" She was looking at James now. "It's not a problem until someone starts acting like…like that."

"Like what?" asked Sophie, looking confused all over again. Of course she'd look confused. She had no idea about Evelien. How could she? I could never even bring myself to tell her.

Evelien looked back at me. "Like I'm some delicate piece of glass that has to be carefully handled. No one wants to say anything wrong to me, no one wants to upset me…"She wiped furiously at her eyes, and my heart broke a little, watching James' face crumble as she did so. "I'm so sick of it! I'm not going to die if you make me mad or say something wrong, so don't act like I will."

"Oh, Evey," sighed James, sitting on his knees in front of her. He hugged her tightly, closing his eyes. "We know that."

"I didn't mean anything by it," I blurted. "I mean, I didn't mean anything bad by it. But I didn't. . .I'm just. . . I'm sorry."

Evelien broke away from her brother, coming to stand in front of me. "You don't have to apologize. It's all right to upset me; even though you didn't."

Sophie was staring at me as if I'd suddenly declared my love for Severus Snape. I ignored her. "Well, it's not a very smart thing to do – asking a child with cancer how she's feeling – "

I heard Sophie gasp. "You. . . you have. . . cancer?"

James looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "You didn't tell her about Evey?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I figured there was a reason only a few people knew. I wasn't sure if it was okay to tell anyone or not."

"It is. It's not a secret," sighed Evelien.

"I just wasn't sure if – "

A load wailing interrupted my sentence. "JAMES HERMAN POTTER!"

We all stared at his wrist, which was currently glowing red thanks to the watch vibrating on his skin. "YOU DO REALIZE THAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET SIRIUS TEN MINUTES AGO, DON'T YOU? GET YOUR FAT ARSE OUT OF THIS SHOP BEFORE I TELL EVERYONE ALL ABOUT THE TIME WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY VANISHED YOUR –"

It stopped moving all of a sudden, and we all looked at James, whose face was rapidly turning a rather interesting shade of red. We were silent as well as the rest of the shop and the small crowd that had gathered to see the commotion.

And then Sophie started to laugh. First it was a giggle, then a chuckle, and soon she was clutching her sides and leaning against the wall. And then we were all laughing, holding out stomachs and howling with laughter at all the strange looks we were receiving.

"That was bloody brilliant," gasped Sophie, when our laughter finally subsided a bit.

"I should hope so, with all that work he put into making it," said Evelien, rolling her eyes slightly.

"You made that watch?" I was shocked. I figured that watch was a product from Zonko's, or something of that sort.

"Yeah," James muttered sheepishly, bringing his hand behind his neck. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, but very adorably so. "Sorta. Evey gave me the watch. I just charmed it."

Evelien grinned. "Just charmed it?" She turned to us, a wide smile on her face. "He spent the whole ruddy summer figuring out what spells to use. He even came up with a few of his own. My brother's a downright genius." I couldn't help but agree.

He ruffled her hair, turning more crimson by the moment. "I wouldn't say genius. . . You guys can, though; I don't mind. "

"You are a genius, though," said Sophie. "That was the most fantastic thing."

"I'm glad you think so, because I have a feeling you're getting another round."

"What?"

"DID YOU THINK I WAS JOKING WHEN I SAID I'D TELL THEM ABOUT YOUR UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER WITH THE MARSHMALLOW FLUFF- COVERED WAND AND YOUR –"

But then, James was frantically pushing the buttons on the watch, grabbing Evelien's hand, and running with her out the door. He barely had time to yell, "Bye, Lil. I'll see you at the school!" before the shop door closed behind him.

I looked at Sophie. She looked back at me. "Marshmallow-covered wands?"

Then we both promptly burst out laughing.

"Remember what I said," warned Sophie, as we reached the statue of Sally the Sober. "NO. WORKING. ON. THE. BALL. Not even a thought about it."

"I got it, Soph. No working on the ball." I crossed my fingers behind my back, offering her a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow," I called as I walked into the room.

"Bye," she called over her shoulder. "And I don't care that your fingers are crossed – no working on the ball!"

I laughed as the statue slid back into place. Only Sophie would know what I was doing without seeing it.

"Hello?" I called, balancing my shopping bags on my arms. "James?"

Silence. He must still be in Hogsmeade. I made my way up the stairs, nudging my door open with my shoulder. I placed the bags on my bed, carefully removing my dress robes from them. The dress Sophie and I finally settled was nice. I picked it up by its hanger, fitting to my body: such a dark green it was almost black, a flowy cut that fit . . . nicely. I had a black pair of shoes that would look nice with it. If I put my hair back with the green clip Sophie found for me, I would look really . . . nice. It was how the entire evening was destined to be.

Nice.

There's nothing wrong with nice. But nice isn't perfect. It was something I was having trouble dealing with. After all my work, my effort, my time - the very least I deserved was the perfect dress. The perfect 400 galleon dress. I placed the robes in my closet, taking the rest of my purchases out, too.

Thump.

I dropped the bag in my hand, my heart thumping wildly. What was that?

"OOF!"

I turned around so quickly, I was sure that I cracked something. But it hardly mattered. Someone was in the Head Room.

I placed the rest of the bags down as quietly as I could, instinctively grabbing my wand from my pocket. I gripped it with sweating palms, turning around at odd intervals.

Thump.

I moved frantically to my right where the sound seemed to have come from. I was terrified - scared out of my mind. There was somebody in the bathroom. What if it was a murderer, or an escaped convict, or. . ..Oh god. I was seventeen, I was cute, and I was alone with someone who could have possibly been a criminal. What if he had escaped from Azkaban and had come to rape me! What if he was planning to kidnap me and hold me for a ransom of 400 galleons? What if he was going to use that money to buy his daughter that unbelievable dress!

Oh hell, no. No one was going to have that dress. Especially not some daughter of an ax murderer/escaped convict who was going to rape me and kidnap me and hold me for a ransom!

With a shaking hand, I opened the bathroom door. I turned the knob slowly, and walked in, my wand out stretched, trying to settle on the most effective hex to use. I gasped at what greeted me. Scary thing was, what greeted me wasn't a rapist, or a kidnapper, or even an escaped convict.

No, it was much, much worse.

What greeted me was James Potter.
In a towel.
Dripping wet.
In a towel.

OH. MY. GOD.
I was. . .and he was. . .and it was. . .and I just. . .and. . ..
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

I could not be walking in on gorgeous men in towels.
Dripping wet.
In towels.

There was no way that living beneath the skinny boy with messy black hair was. . .that.

Not that I was gawking, of course. Not that I was stunned this had been underneath Hogwarts robes all along. Not that I was wondering how best to tell Dumbledore to do away with boy's uniforms all together and just have them walk around in towels all day. Not that James was fit and lean. Not that his shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and the muscles in between were amazingly defined. Not that in some hormone induced part of my mind I was vaguely wondering what it would feel like to have those muscles tensing under my hand. Not that I was watching a water droplet as it practically danced it's way along his chest and abdomen and then tauntingly disappeared beneath his towel. Not that I turned red as I mentally wished for the stupid cloth to fall. Not that I was stunned by how incredibly sexy James looked wet.

No. Not at all.

The fact that James Potter was standing not five feet away from me in nothing but a fluffy, white piece of cotton was doing absolutely nothing to me or my hormones. I didn't want to ravage him and do ungodly things to him that I'm sure were illegal in many parts of the world.

No. Not at all.

"Lily?"

"Huh?" I looked up. . .Oh god. I had to look up. Look up from. . .that. Oh god.

"Is there a reason you walked into a bathroom that was clearly occupied?" He looked amused. Well, good for him! He wasn't the one staring at himself in a towel. . . Not that I was still staring, of course.

"I. . .uh, heard something. I thought someone was in here and. . ." I trailed off, as he walked back towards the shower. DON'T LOOK AT HIS ARSE! I mentally screamed at myself, trying to avert my eyes. "What are you, uh, doing?"

He bent down to pick something up before straightening. He looked at me with a smirk, a bar of soap in his hand. "I dropped this. That's probably what you heard."

"Oh. . ..But. I thought you were still in, uh, Hog-Hogsmeade." I weakly felt around behind my body, hoping there was a wall that would support just in case I was to fall. Or faint. Which ever came first.

"I dropped Evelien off to hang out with Sirius. I figured I'd have a quick shower before I went to say bye to her."

Shower. Of course. It was what people did in big bathrooms that caused them to come out dripping wet and gorgeous and in towels.

James grabbed a hand towel and began drying out his hair. His adorably messy, black, dripping hair.

"I should probably go then. . ." I didn't move.

He turned to me, a lopsided grin on his face. "Unless you'd like to stay and watch."

"No. . .that's okay. I think I'll just. . .go." I couldn't move my feet though. My entire body seemed to be immobilized and focused on James.

"Lil?" He questioned when I didn't move.

"Sorry. I'll just go. . .now."

I nearly tripped over myself in my haste to get out.

I leaned against the bathroom door, willing my heart to stop beating so damned fast. I heard the unmistakable sound of a towel being dropped and I groaned. I dug my palms into my eyes, hoping that it would stop the incredible images that assaulted me. Why did James have to be so. . .so. . .so bloody sexy? It terrified me that I thought James Potter – James Potter who helped me with my speeches, who teased me about my books, who had a sister with cancer, who was infuriating to the point of pain, who thought I was cute when I blushed. . .was sexy. Sexy and dripping wet and quite possibly naked, only three feet away.

Oh God.

Twenty minutes later, I was sprawled across my bed, shopping bags and their various items lining the floor. I was supposed to be sleeping – I was certainly drained enough. But, my mind was reeling, and oddly enough I kept seeing water droplets clinging to a decidedly fit torso whenever my eyes were closed - as they happened to be at the moment. And as nice as it was to see, it was a bit unnerving that it was all I could see.

"Oh, bloody buggering hell!"

I opened my eyes with a start…

…And wished I never had eyes to begin with.

It wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing, having the person that you were trying the hardest NOT to think about (and failing miserably), standing in your doorway. Well, lying was more accurate since James was sort of stretched across the floor, a familiar looking black material on his head.

"WHAT are you doing in my room? Don't you know how to knock? What if I was changing or something!"

He sent me a glare from his spot on the floor, the material on his head falling off as he stood up. "I came in here to make sure you were sleeping, and the door was open. Besides, you've already seen me half naked, so I guess it's only fair that I have the same liberties. And, yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

I stood up grumpily, practically forcing my mind to stop showing me the images of James in a towel. "It's not my fault you can't walk properly."

"Oh, is that the thanks I get for checking up on you? I wanted to make sure you were sleeping like you promised Sophie you'd be doing, only to have bloody SHOPPING BAGS littering the floor. By the way," he bent down to grab something off the floor, "you might want to keep a closer eye on your…err…"

I looked at his hand, which my new black bra happened in, and felt my face heat up. "Give me that," I hissed. "You shouldn't be going through my stuff."

"Going through your stuff? Lil, it fell on my HEAD. Trust me, it wasn't intentional."

"This was on your head? Smashing. I'll have to boil it before I can wear it again."

He grinned, and leaned against the bed frame. "Don't be so melodramatic. I can think of worse places for it to be."

I groaned as I brushed past him, picking up the shopping bags. "Spare me."

"On Snivellus' head, for instance," he went on, pretending he didn't hear me. "No amount of boiling will help you get that oil off, let me tell you that. And can you imagine wearing it?" James shuddered. "It'd be a right nightmare."

"Oh God. Enough already." I barely suppressed a shudder myself. "I don't want to hear anything else about my bras and Severus Snape's relation to them."

"What's the matter, Evans? Can't take the oily visual?"

I ignored him and went about placing the bags into the closet, while James made himself perfectly comfortable on my bed. It was a little weird, having him look oh so comfortable in my bed, where I just was a minute ago, determined not to think of him. I thought of the soap he was using. What did it smell like? Would his scent be on my sheets? Or did that only happen when you had sex? That would be disappointing, really, because, I was sure that smelling James on my pillow would be very nice indeed. And then, I remembered something. "How did you know I promised Sophie that I'd go to sleep?"

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he propped himself against my pillows.

"You said that you came in here to make sure I was sleeping, like I promised Sophie. How did you know I promised Sophie?"

"I was –"

"Were you listening to our conversation?" I demanded, suddenly angered. "Were you just hiding out somewhere, hoping I wouldn't notice?"

"No, Lil –"

"Because that's really low," I continued, ignoring him even as I turned to the bed and walked towards him. "Honestly! Listening to a private conversation . . . How rude can you get, James –"

He grabbed my flailing hands, when I was in reach. "I asked Sophie to talk to you."

"-And what if you heard something secret? What would you have done…Wait. What?"

James smiled. "I talked to Sophie about you. I told her to make you promise to get some rest." He grabbed my wrists, staring at them as he spoke. "I figured if anyone can get through to you it'd be her."

"How did you know she'd be able to get through to me?" I asked.

"She's your best friend, isn't she?"

"But," I was staring at our hands, too, wondering why I liked the image so much, "why would you talk to her?"

There was a faint red coloring on the very tips of his ears. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

"I was," he cleared his throat, lifting his head to look at me. "I was worried."

"Worried?" I echoed.

"Yeah." He had let go of my wrists, I noted with regret. "You've been running yourself dry these few months. You don't know when to stop and take some time for yourself. You worked so hard on this sodding ball that your friend had to drag you away from your plans. You need to learn how to just relax and live, Lily. You're wearing yourself out."

I didn't know how to respond. "Why are you so worried?"

James looked confused. "I just said that –"

"No, no, no. That's not what I mean." I shook my head to prove my point. "Why do . . . well. Why do you care?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Merlin, what a question. Why do I care?"

"Yes."

"Aren't we friends?" he inquired, drawing out the last word.

I nodded. "I guess you could call us that."

"You guess?"

"Well, I never really thought about it much, to tell you the truth." No, I just thought about him shirtless…Not something friends normally did.

"How could you have not thought about it? We've only shared quarters for…What? Four months?" He waved his hands around, his face turning the slightest shade of pink. "You've seen me bloody undressed; how could you not have thought about it?"

"I don't know!" I suddenly felt awful. "I just never considered you enough of a friend to feel –"

"Not enough of a friend? I'm glad I mean so much to you." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"I didn't mean it like that, James, and you know it." Why was he getting angry? I did consider him a friend; I just didn't think he considered me much of a good one.

"Oh, didn't you? It sounded perfectly natural when it came out of your mouth –"

"I just meant that I didn't think you cared about me, that's all!" I practically yelled. I was so sick of having everything I said taken the wrong way, so sick of not knowing what to say, so sick of this constant back and forth motion that had going on with James, just so sick of it all.

James stared at me, his eyes wide. "Why would you think that?"

"Well…I'm not – I'm not a very good friend," I said carefully, picking at my nails.

"Why would you think that?" he asked again.

I moved to sit on the bed. I felt tired all of a sudden. "I don't know…I just…I seem to upset you more than comfort you, and I never know when to quit – you said so yourself – and I can never think of something to say, and I inadvertently insulted your sister that time, and I blush too much, and I read those books you don't like, and I walked in on you in a TOWEL, for Merlin's sake!"

James looked at me. "You're not serious, are you?" he laughed.

"Mostly."

He pushed my shoulders forcing me to sit on the bed. "Okay, first of all, I don't think you upset me all that much. Second of all, yes, it's true that you don't know when to stop, but that's what I'm here for - o shut you up when needed. Third of all…Okay, so the thing about Evey was stupid, but let's forget about that. Fourth of all, I told you before that you are positively adorable when you blush." I blushed again. "Fifth of all, your poor taste in "books" doesn't make you a bad friend. And sixth of all, I'm actually surprised that the little bathroom encounter didn't happen sooner."

"What's that supposed to mean? You weren't planning on walking in on me, or anything, were you? Because, I lock the door –"

He laughed and threw his head back, exposing his neck to me. Why didn't I notice what a sexy neck he had before? "No, Love, I wasn't planning on walking in on you. Although, if it just happened to occur, one day…"

"James!" I shrieked, even as I laughed.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, abruptly.

"What?"

"Have…you…eaten?" he repeated, slower this time, as if he was talking to a toddler.

"Uh…Yes. Why?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "What did you eat?"

I was confused with his new line of questioning. "Food?"

"Lily, you know what I mean," he sighed.

"I had a sugar quill at the dress shop."

"Well, come on then." He walked out the door, and I followed, against my better judgment.

"Where? What are you doing?"

He walked into his room as I stood by the door. "You don't think that a sugar quill counts as food, do you? What kind of friend would I be if I let you go to bed – which you will do after we come back – hungry?" He threw some clothes off his bed, apparently looking for something.

"James."

He moved to his closet, opening that and pushing things aside as well. "What?"

"It's after hours."

"So?" he questioned. "Damn it! Where is it?"

"So we won't be able to get into the Great Hall." I watched as he disappeared under his bed.

"You're forgetting something," he said, his voice muffled.

I raised an eyebrow as James emerged, stuffing a bit of parchment in his pocket. "What's that?"

He gave me a cheeky grin before brushing past me and flying out of the room. "I'm James Potter, Love."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I whined, all but stamping my foot and throwing a tantrum.

"It means that I've got other ways of getting you food." He stopped at the top of the stairs, looking at me expectantly. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

I was very reluctant but also very curious. Curiosity won out. "How many rules are we breaking?" I asked as we walked down the stairs.

He sent me a lopsided grin. "Not too many."

"How many, James?" I asked again.

He stopped at the door and smiled. "Lil, we're not going to get into trouble."

He turned around, obviously ready to leave. "But what if –"

"Trust me, okay? You won't get in trouble. Just…trust me."

James grinned at me, and I looked at him for a long time, though I already knew what my answer would be. "Okay."

He smiled and I could've sworn that my heart stopped beating for the tiniest second. "Come on. But you have to stay quiet. And stick close by."

"I thought you said we weren't going to get into trouble," I smirked, but followed him anyway.

"We won't get into trouble if we don't get caught," he countered.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off before I could. "And we won't get caught if you stay quiet." He turned to the left once we stood outside Sally's statue. "Now keep quiet."

"You're the one who's talking," I mumbled.

James glared at me. "I mean it." I rolled my eyes.

He stood there, listening for a few seconds. "Damn," he muttered.

"What?" I whispered, as quietly as I could.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Mumbling obscenities under my breath, I did as he asked. I could hear the faint crinkling sound of parchment followed by some incoherent mumbing.

"Okay, good. Come on."

I opened my eyes, expecting to be somewhere else, or to have the corridor changed, or something, but it was exactly the same as before. "What did you do?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing I just made sure we wouldn't get caught. Let's go, Filch won't be in his office forever."

"Where are we…Wait. How do you know Filch was in his office?"

"Lucky guess," he said nonchalantly.

I narrowed my eyes. "James," I hissed, "what are you doing?"

He sighed. "Don't you think I'd tell you if I could? I can't tell you, Lily."

I felt a dull throbbing in my head. "Why not?"

"Because," he sighed, running a hand over his face. "It's about my…I just…I can't tell you. I'm sorry, Love."

"Oh," I muttered, looking at the ground. I tried not to feel too disappointed. "Okay. Can you – can you just tell me where we're going?"

"The kitchens."

I grabbed his arm when he began to walk. "James, you know we're not allowed to go down there!"

He took hold of my wrists again, holding them in front of me. "Relax, will you? We're Head Boy and Girl. You think anyone will care?"

"Yes! We aren't allowed to be there. Are you crazy? If we get caught-"

James smiled, shaking his head a little. "Then shut up and let's not get caught."

"But-"

He brought my hands up to his eye level. "Lily, do you trust me?"

My eyes flickered to his thumbs, which were currently gliding over my wrists in small circles. I tried to ignore how nice it felt. "Yes."

"Then don't worry." He brushed his mouth across my knuckles, ever so slightly, before releasing my hands. "I won't let you get into trouble."

I shivered from the intense look in his eyes, wanting to tell James that just being out here with him this late, having him practically kiss my hand…was causing more trouble than McGonagall ever would. But I didn't. "Okay," I breathed instead, following him as he tiptoed around the corridors.

It didn't make sense, this rolling in my stomach, this fluttery feeling I suddenly had. I reckon the thrill of doing something I wasn't supposed to – of being out of bed after hours, of sneaking into the kitchens – just had an effect on me. And, as much as I didn't want to admit it, maybe the good looking, grinning boy in front of me had something to do with it, too.

We walked along the dark corridor, trying to be as quiet as possible, which wasn't easy, considering we kept pausing at odd intervals, and that the pounding in my heart was sure to wake up half the school.

"Are you okay?" James asked me, as we hid behind a display of kiwi fruit. "I know this is such a walk on the wild side and all."

I would have hit him, if the small confinement of space enabled me to. I settled for glaring. "I've done more dangerous things than you think."

"Lily, walking into the wrong class doesn't count."

"That's not what I meant – "

"I assure you, Minerva, this ball will be wonderful. Miss Evans is putting a lot of her time into it."

James and I froze. My heart seemed to stop beating, and James' eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them. "Holy sh-"

He clamped a hand over my mouth, shoving us into a tiny nook in the wall. I groaned as my back hit the stone wall, and placed my hands on his chest to brace myself. "Sorry," he whispered.

I nearly stopped breathing when Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall walked past where we hiding, rambling about the ball.

"…really, just doing such a lovely job. The decorations are simply magnificent." Dumbledore looked over at us as I thudded into the stone wall. He saw us. I nearly wet myself. But he didn't start screaming and he didn't expel us. He winked and continued walking.

"Sssh," James whispered, his voice tickling my ear as his hand left my mouth. He moved a little, pushing me further into the wall, and further into him. I tried to ignore how close we were, how nice he smelled – all soapy, and musky, and undeniably James-like – how I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, under my palm, how my gaze was level to very top of his neck, and how I was overcome with the sudden urge to kiss it, just there, beneath his chin.

"Let's wait a minute to make sure they're gone." His voice broke through my thoughts, and I shook my head, willing them from my mind. I was not going to think about kissing James anywhere . . . No matter how delicious his neck loo-

No. Bad, Lily. Bad thoughts.

"Lil?" he questioned.

I blinked, looking up to see James' smiling face only inches away. He had a tiny little dimple in left cheek. Why hadn't I noticed it before? "Sorry, I…" I trailed off, unsure what to say, my eyes focused on that dimple. Then, before I could stop myself, my hand reached up. My fingers brushed across his cheek and fluttered over his lips for the briefest second, before trailing down the smooth column of his neck and resting against his chest again. I spread my fingers over his heart, feeling the beats quicken under my hand. I stared at it for a while, neither of us making any noise; James' ragged breathing as the only form of sound in the dark corridor.

I half expected him to say something, or to take my hand away. But, he just stood there, looking down at me, his hazel eyes seeming almost black in the darkness. My heart pounded away against my ribcage and it suddenly felt so hot in that tiny little corridor, so unbearably hot. That small expanse of neck was still staring at me, taunting me. I just couldn't help myself; I placed my lips there, just there, at the little spot by his pulse point. I felt him swallow, heard the tiny groan that escaped his lips.

I felt inexplicably powerful being able to cause that groan.

"Lily," he breathed, my name sounding so different tumbling from lips now than it did five minutes before.

I stared at him, taking in the pained, almost tortured look on his face. "Yes?" I whispered, unable to move.

He brushed my hair away from my face, playing with the strands. "Please, I…I need…" He gulped, bringing his hands to my face, his calloused thumbs sweeping across my cheeks. I shivered and my hands shook as I gripped his forearms, staring at him, watching his face come closer to mine.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that there was something wrong with us standing there, with James smelling so nice, and looking so good, with us pressed together in a dark corridor, my hands on his arms, his on my face…But somehow, at that moment, I couldn't think of just what that was.

"Lily," he moved his hands from my face, placing them on my shoulders instead. "Can I…Please, can I just…"

I nodded, not sure of what he was asking or what I was agreeing to, or if we were even in the same dimension anymore. I had no control over my thoughts, or actions, or feelings; I didn't even know what was going on. "Yeah. It's…Yeah." I was whispering, speaking in broken sentences, moving my hands nervously around his arms.

He moved closer, his face so close that I could feel his breath on mine. I saw his lips move nearer, felt his arms go around my waist, heard his labored breathing…

"Dumbledore winked at us," I blurted out.

"What?" James lifted his head, looking confused, obviously wondering what the hell I was doing.

I wished I knew. "Dumbledore. He winked at us…When they walked by. He saw us standing there and he just…winked…" I broke away, rubbing my sweaty hands against my thighs.

"What are you talking about?"

I heard footsteps from around the corner, and James must've heard them too because he turned suddenly, staring at the corridor. We made to move again, but it was too late. Dumbledore rounded the hallway, giving us a curt nod.

"Good evening, Mister Potter, Miss Evans. Do return to your rooms before too long; most other teachers won't be as nearsighted as I am," he said with a gleam in his eye before walking down the corridor once again.

We stared at his retreating back. My heart pounded dully in my chest, and my mouth dropped open of its own accord. I couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but gape blankly ahead of me, trying to process what had happened in the last twenty minutes. Something about going into the kitchens, and yelling about getting caught, and a display with kiwi fruit, and kissing James' neck, and staring at his face, and Dumbledore walking by…It was just too much.

I heard James clear his throat. "Uh, Lily?"

I turned around. James had a hand curled behind his neck, standing sheepishly, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. It was adorable, and I hated myself for thinking it. "We should go…Go back to the, uh, place…where we live…"

"Please don't act differently," he nearly pleaded. "Please. I'm sorry about before…I didn't mean to try to…I'm sorry. Just please…God. Just don't act different around me."

I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that it wasn't him, that I was feeling horrible over what I'd done - what I'd wanted to do. I kissed his bloody neck for Merlin's sake! And I'd liked it…I liked the way his skin felt, and I liked his reaction to it, and I liked the way he said my name. But I didn't – I couldn't – like him.

I shook my head, backing up slowly. "I have to go, James. I can't…"

He grabbed my arm, dragging me over to him. His hand seemed to burn my skin, though not in an entirely unpleasant way. "No, don't. I couldn't handle that right now. I'm sorry; I just…Please don't act different. We'll pretend nothing happened, okay? We'll ignore…it. I just can't lose you…as a friend. Not now."

His voice was more desperate than I ever heard it. The conviction in it made me want to cry. "Yeah…Yeah, okay. I don't want to lose you either. As a friend," I added quickly. "I don't want to lose you as a friend."

James nodded, wrapping his arms around my waist, and bringing me close to him. He placed his chin atop my head and sighed. "You're a great person. I know you don't think it…but you are."

I returned his hug, my heart ready to burst. "Thank you. You…You're just amazing," my voice was muffled against his chest, and I knew I was turning red, but I went on anyway. "Really…just incredible. Thank you." I whispered it, half hoping he wouldn't hear.

He did. "For what?"

"For just being…You. For being who are, and for caring so damn much. Don't ever change, okay?"

He laughed quietly. "And risk the chance of not hearing that again? I'll stay the same. Just for you, Evans, I'll stay the same."

He gripped me a bit tighter, and I sighed, closing my eyes. My stomach fluttered again, but this time I knew it had nothing to do with being out late, or sneaking off someplace, or getting caught…and everything to do with the good looking, sighing boy in front of me.

James. It had everything to do with James.

Ta da. There's definitely been more added, and lots more fluff. I hope you liked this version better, because I sure did.

Be sure to check my livejournal in a little bit for review responses. I'm also going to be giving out sneak peaks until chapter six is updated, so be sure to email me about those, if you want them.

I love you all who have stuck with this since the beginning, or the middle, or are just joining. You guys keep me writing when it's the last thing I think I want to do. And I really, really want to thank you for staying with me as long as you have, and for continuing to read, even when it seems like I'll never update again.

Thank you infinitely.

- Ers