Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Sue if you wish but all of nothing is still nothing…..

Thanks to Phoenix for her awesome beta services!

Still lost in Hogsmeade -

When life gives you lemons……

You throw them back and tell life to keep its damn lemons.

Being lost in Hogsmeade is definitely a lemon in my book. If Lee Vanes can't solve this problem, then Lily Evans will.

I will not be abandoned on the ship of life!

I drug myself off the bench of despair and began to formulate my plan: Lily-Evans-Shows-All-Who-Is-Boss. I decided that I couldn't very well just change back to myself right here. Lee Vanes's clothes are much larger than Lily Evans's; they'd fall right off and I'd be walking around Hogsmeade au natural.

Hmm, that's a problem.

I can't transfigure anything for the life of me, therefore making my own clothes out of some leaves is out of the question. I decided it would be uber intelligent to find a ladies' shoppe where I might find some girl clothes. Wandering aimlessly, it only took me twenty minutes to stumble upon 'Lady's Confections'. It sounds like something you sprinkle on pancakes. But pancakes are yum yum so all is well.

I slipped stealthily into the alley between Lady's Confections and Madame Puddifoot's Café (Sweet Merlin, gag me now!) and removed my spell.

Thank Merlin Lee's sweater reached my mid thigh, because my pants immediately became attracted to my ankles.

But soft, what PANTS through yonder window break?

My legs look like twigs inside Lee's giant trainers. I was incredibly smart to change in this little alcove. I just may reward myself for my intelligence later.

I gathered my pants up and held them at my waist. I didn't even get to take a step before I tripped heels over head over a paving stone.

I'm quite sure Lee's shoes are now on the roof of Lady's Confections. They flew right off my feet.

Why oh why does this always have to happen to me?

My jeans don't even seem sad that they have caused me dilemma. They're all clean and bright blue with joy. Bugger. Who actually wants to wear pants anyways? Lady Fiona doesn't need them, and neither does Hammie. They're quite fit without them.

However I must succumb to conformity and wear them because if I don't, I may be arrested. I can just see my mother's reaction as she bails me out of Azkaban for streaking.

I wonder if the Dementors have ever had to guard a streaker before.

Pretend I never thought that.

Hmm, where was I? Oh yes….

Alright pants, this is how it's going down: I roll you up, you stay there. You behave until we get inside the shop, then you can do all the falling down you want. Get it? Got it? Good.

I hiked them up and ran like hell out of the alley way and into the shop. The shop-mistress was a middle-aged woman, who tried too hard to stay in fashion with today's teenagers. Her perfume smelled like some death moths had fallen into it. She eyed me critically and then winked. Is she training for owldom?

"Hon, I think you've mistaken your boyfriend's clothes for your own."

My mind screamed "What? What!" But my mouth did nothing. I could feel my red roots reaching into my face and coloring it scarlet.

Boyfriend? As if! What boy would want to put up with me in their right mind?

It's a good thing I don't know any boys in their right minds. Lee wouldn't have succeeded otherwise.

"Can I just get a change of clothes please?" I asked sweetly. If she needed any extra persuasion, I washed it away when I slapped a pocketful of galleons onto her counter.

"Sweetie, let's get to work." She said and clapped her hands together to summon her seamstress - another woman falling victim to the same bad tastes as she. I was forced onto a pedestal where I was analyzed like some ancient ruins or a wax caveman in a museum exhibit.

I sincerely hope I do not look like a wax caveman.

I was measured, poked, pricked, slimmed and analyzed until at last the seamstress declared, "Perfect. You have excellent measurements. We have just the things for you." Pfft! I bet she tells all her customers that.

Then I was forced into several elaborate outfits, each clashing with my hair worse than the last. Why do I have red hair? The plum purple blazer I liked would have matched so beautifully with brown hair. Not red.

Why me?

The last straw was when they tried to force me to don a flowery sun hat. "It's fall. I don't need flowers and a sunhat! Can I just have some basic clothes? Please! That's all I need!" I gritted, trying to keep my tone as nice as possible. I may need their services in the future.

They laughed snotty, nasal laughs. "Darling, you can't be serious." The owner said.

"Actually, I am quite serious."

That wiped the smirks off their faces. I telepathically shouted "I win".

They ended up forcing me into a pair of holey, paint-splattered jeans. Apparently they are "fashionable in the States". America has some stupid trends. I made them keep my upper half simple with a white shirt and a black track jacket. My trainers are just plain green, thank Merlin.

I paid and then carefully shrunk Lee's pants and sweater so I could pocket them. Before I left I suddenly remembered I forgot something.

"Excuse me, but can I quickly get my shoes off your roof? I accidentally tossed them up earlier." I asked sweetly.

That was the second shop I've been kicked out of in one day.

I have never been one for supreme emotional extremes and I daresay I have the emotional range of a pinpoint. Aside from irate spaz moments due to klutziness and the occasional euphoric phrase, I am quite an iceberg. But….

I LOVE BEING A GIRL!

Except for the times when the wind blows by and makes me virtually eat my hair. I should really keep a hair tie, except twenty three minutes ago I was a boy and boys do not wear hair ties. They really should. You never know when you need a circular piece of rubber.

I walked for another fifteen to twenty minutes before I stumbled on something familiar.

The Hog's Head!

Eggscellent.

I strutted into the pub. I fully plan to show the Marauders who is boss. They were in the Hog's Head. I would not allow them not to be. I also happen to think self-delusion is a grand thing.

The interior of the pub was dimly lit, and slightly barren. Traces of sweet sulfur smoke intertwined with the exotic scent of interwoven firewhiskey and butterbeer. There were intricate torches on the wall, but most of the lighting came from candelabras on each table. However, I could not help but notice there was a spiritual hospitality and homey feeling about the place.

All good things come to an end.

I scrunched up my nose as a middle-aged wizard removed his coat from a hanger and showered me with the smell of mothballs. Lovely.

I dug myself to the bar and sat down. "Firewhiskey, please." I ordered. I added a bit of hair flipping to enhance my maturity.

I haven't flipped my hair in so long. Mmm feels nice.

"I'll need to see some sort of age identification ma'am." The plump bartender asked.

Can't even get a bloody firewhiskey to make my day better.

"Fine. Butterbeer please."

"Sure thing Miss." He began to busy himself with fetching my drink.

Can he not see my maturosity? I could pass for eighteen. He must need glasses. That's it.

I glanced around; all the usual suspects. There were some Hufflepuff fifth years, the Changs sitting with two of their friends, Nick and Roy. All were flirting with a gaggle of village girls at the next table. I am alarmed to say that although I found this shameless, I was staring at Roy for a bit before I caught myself.

As I was about to look away, he winked at me. Then he motioned for me to come over with his finger. He's so bloody confident. Oh vair vair amusing. Do I look like a dog that will come at your call? Dogs have only caused me to fall in holes so there will be no doggy business for you. I'd wiggle my own finger at you, but I am in Lady-Mode right now.

I resumed my search for the Marauders. I was rewarded when I spotted them in a corner booth…with…no girls? Potter, Remus and Peter were pouring over a piece of parchment while Sirius (in new clothes) shamelessly flirted with a young curly-haired witch. Rosmerta, I suppose.

All that hostility earlier was for them to read some old shoddy parchment probably about some crap topic about crapland in crap world? There are libraries for that!

(Censored with good reason)!

I quickly paid for my butterbeer and stormed towards the door. Before I left, I heard someone shout "Red!".

If I hate being called something, it's 'Red'.

Seething and snarling like a tiger, I turned around. I was so angry that I turned around rather quickly and practically snogged the person lurking behind me. Sodding Roy it was.

Now I sound like that bald little green midget in Star Wars.

Yoda or something his name was.

I am loosing my patience with boys.

"Whoa, take it easy Red! If you wanted to snog me, you should have just said so." His tone arched arrogantly. He's bloody self-centered and I'm bloody uncomfortable. When you can feel someone's unwanted breath on your nose, they're a bit to close. Is there a book called 'Tips for Invading Personal Space' ? If there is, Roy has read it.

Heh. Heh. Heh heh heh heh. I have suddenly had an epiphany. Gone is all my advantage of being Lee, and replaced is Lily Evans….the girl. Who is over a head shorter and much less muscles than Roy. He's looking at my all dreamy and hypnotized.

"Do you fancy stepping outside?"

ALERT ALERT! ABANDON SHIP! MAY DAY! Air Force Lily is going down!

I shook my head 'no'. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the door. My shriek must have caused a scene because then,

James Potter saved me.

Thank Merlin, I just may snog him later! (I will be a girl of course) I can honestly say I have never been happier to see him in my life.

He gently but firmly grabbed my flailing other arm. "I think the lady said no." He was smooth, husky, and even persuasive to the point of being deadly. My stomach did a somersault.

"Sod off Potter. I saw her first." Roy hissed.

Do I look like a piece of merchandise on the sale rack? I am not for sale nor am I discount! I feel like I'm stuck between two elderly ladies who are fighting over a crap sweater. I sense there will be a handbag fight.

I giggled when I thought of Potter and Roy in a handbag fight. They ignored my burst of laughter.

"If she needs an escort to the door, I'll take her off your hands. Go sit down." Potter purred.

Why are they speaking as if I were a burden? I'm not that difficult….. am I?

"I can escort her without your help."

I can do it myself thanks.

"Really, I insist."

No, I insist.

"It would be my pleasure to do it instead."

It would be my pleasure for you to leave me alone.

"It's no trouble at all."

Yes, it is troublesome.

This is getting……. riddikulus! I began counting ceiling tiles in a cool sort of way because the tension was making me want to go to the loo. Why can't we all just order butterbeers, strike up a drinking song and be merry?

Have they even noticed they're still holding onto me? This is exactly why women carry handbags – they're mature enough only to beat each other with them on special occasions. Potter and Roy would be sumo wrestling with handbags by now.

I started squirming in their grips. "I'll just escort myself out." I topped it off with a nervous laugh.

Roy snorted and wrenched me from Potter's grip. He ran, while I stumbled out the door as a prisoner of his grip.

"What the bloody hell is your problem?" I snapped. My wrist was hurting and I did not appreciate being dragged haphazardly through the Hogsmeade crowd. If I was Lee, I could beat the wizard right out of Roy right now, but this was far from the place for a change, nor was I dressed for it. Oh joy unbounded! I'm on my own.

I ripped my wrist from his grasp and massaged it gently. He turned and glowered. "Come on." He barked. I sidestepped him smoothly.

Please, klutz factor do not kick in now! Potter, where are you when I need you?

Roy stalked closer like a tiger cornering its prey. God bless reflexes, because they kicked in. My foot connected with his shin. Equal, Cornerpocket! I turned to run, and ran I did – straight into someone's chest, meaning I fell backwards on my backside.

Who in the name of arse?

Oh it figures. James Potter. He only shows up to cause me embarrassment and dither, not because I need him to save my pretty little head.

Wait, I don't need Potter for anything.

Roy didn't even stay around. "She's all yours Potter." He turned and disappeared through the crowds.

Potter lifted me off the ground and planted me on my feet. As I finally peered at his face, I felt my stomach flip-flop again. I felt …melted. His eyes glazed over, and he began looking into my eyes in a dreamy state. His eyes traveled to my lips. I silently remembered my promise to snog him when he saved me. And I would have snogged him there right in front of everyone

Then I remembered how he literally ditched me in the mud earlier today and left me to rot. Any sense of warmth and comfort left me like water in a drought.

"Thanks, but I could have taken care of him myself." I said and began walking in the other direction. He hurriedly walked along side of me.

"Oh really? It didn't look that way to me." His eyebrows had disappeared into his hairline.

"Potter, not everyone needs to be saved by you." I spat and walked in another random direction. He followed.

"How did you know my name?"

"I heard Roy say it." Change direction.

"How did you know his name was Roy?" He mimicked.

Oh shit. I'm not supposed to know that. Best change the subject.

"Look, don't you have someone else to bother?" I stopped and glared at him.

"I just want to know your name!" He shrugged as if it were nothing.

"Why? We'll never see each other again."

"You don't know that. I'd like to see you again."

"I'd like a lot of things too but it's not happening." I tried to walk away again when his hand captured mine.

"Don't you at least want to know mine?" He asked hopefully.

As if! I already know it.

"You're Potter. Now sod off."

He's not doing a very good job of earning brownie points with me, especially when he foiled my escape plans by yanking me back to him.

Oooh the power I would have if I turned into Lee right now. But Lee would not fit into these pants very well, or this shirt. Damn circumstance.

"What about my first name, if you don't know that already too. You seem to know everything, Miss Know-it-all." He grinned like the cat that ate the canary. If this was his idea of flirting, he is destined to be an eternal bachelor.

"Excuse me? Know-it-all? If I'm a know-it-all then you're a self-centered, egotistical, narcissistic, impossible pig! I'm no damsel in distress and you're no knight in shining armor. Now leave me alone you toerag!" I hissed.

That ought to put him in his place! Lily: 1; Potter: 0.

His eyes just sparkled. "Okay, play hard to get." He released my hand. "I'll see you around, love." He placed a chaste kiss on my cheek and disappeared into the crowd. I gently touched where his lips were. Beneath my fingers, I could feel the heat from my flushed face.

WHY ME?

First things first. Danke for all your encouraging and constructive reviews. I hope all of you are pleasantly entertained. To my shadow readers, I hope this fic provides you with a good read.

I sooooo know this is not what you all expected, but I figured it was time for Lily and James to have a little interaction before you all lost faith in the pairing. I have also let a bit of fluff run with me. I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll let everyone in on a little plot secret; someone will discover Lily shortly. It won't be James though. I have quite the chapter planned for that. But things are about to get…..interesting….

Please review….I would really appreciate your feedback, comments, and criticisms.