Disclaimer: There is only one individual capable of owning Harry Potter, and it is not I. Mon Essentiel is not mine either.

Where was I?

Oh yes.

Oh my giddy aunt! James Potter has caught Sirius and I au natural.

Just reread that. We are not that sort of au natural. I just meant I am a girl.

Oh, nevermind. If you want to think of us Adam and Eve style, go for it.

Potter just stared like a stunned mullet. His mouth moved like in fish-like motions, but no sound came out. I elbowed Sirius for a reaction, to no avail. Honestly, they act as if they have never seen each other before.

Boys. Sigh

Sirius was the first to shake out of his apathy. "Jamsie pal! I brought you a present." He exclaimed and, for indication I was the present, slapped me on the back until I coughed.

PRESENT? I suddenly imagined myself with a big red bow on my head, popping out of a box with confetti. For some reason, I giggled like a fool as I imagined James receiving me. Sacre Bleu. I must have a fever.

"Blimey." James managed.

"I found her down at Hogsmeade in the rain all by herself upon my return. I rescued her." Sirius bullshitted.

"Blimey." Remus exclaimed at the sight of me as he popped up behind James in the entrance.

"She is quite in need of some tender loving care, so who better to pamper her than the Marauders." Sirius pushed.

"Blimey." Peter finished when he popped up at Remus's side.

What is this, a bloody parrot's convention? Since when do the Marauder go popping about like daisies?

I suddenly imagined the Marauders in green tights with daisy wreathes encircling their faces.

I must have caught pneumonia on that lake, because I am most definitely ill thinking such thoughts.

"What were you doing in Hogsmeade without us!" Peter asked Sirus innocently. How can one normally daft and useless boy ask all the right questions that might start a war between the friends?

James looked positively offended. "You didn't go to Zonko's without us, did you!" He pointed an accusing, blunt index finger at Sirius. If I were thinking of bludgeoning someone, I would not use my finger for it is too blunt. A finger of that nature would be no use against Sirius.

"Prongs, has your brain fallen out? I was at Hogsmeade because I couldn't apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds. I had to apparate to visit Narcissa." Sirius scoffed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Oh he's good.

James's eyebrows shot into his hairline (not literally, they didn't fly off his face), and he tried to pretend he was never angry. "Well of course I never assumed Padfoot." He ran a hand through his already messy hair.

Oh that hair. I was suddenly overwhelmed with a need to touch it, and I had no pockets to tuck my hands to water-down the desire. Oh, bother. This is so awful! I desire to run my hands through James's hair. I hate it! Since when did his mussed hair become so lovely?

"We'll go down tomorrow. Quality Quidditch Supplies got a new shipment of all-weather broom wax. The kit has a lifetime guarantee!" Sirius replied enthusiastically.

"Brilliant!" James exclaimed.

"Oh, I have been waiting for that for a month!" Remus added in.

"How did they ever run out?" Peter squeaked.

"A new tail-twig replacement kit just came out too. It's part of the Ireland National equipment series. It is supposed smoke the colors of the Irish flag when the broom needs servicing." Sirus added.

"A must have!" James added.

"I bet Hogsmeade will be swamped with students this weekend looking for that. It will be best to sneak out tomorrow and skip breakfast." Remus said thoughtfully. He cupped his chin in his hand as if to make his pondering look official.

"We cannot skip breakfast! That is against the law!" Sirius argued.

"Sirius, you won't starve by missing one meal. Think how many meals I have missed and I'm still alive." Remus countered.

"Meanie. This is cruel and unusual punishment." Sirius declared.

They continued to bicker like married couples.

How did I ever live with them for so long without throwing myself out a window? That is what I'm about to do.

What? Don't look at me like that!

Everyone knows I never actually follow thru with my suicidal tendencies. Embarasslutzdom usually beats me to it!

I cleared my throat gently in attempt to get their attention.

It was a reenactment of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima.

Insert cricket chirping.

"Oh, sorry love. We forgot about you." Sirius cheekily tousled my hair with his palm.

What a charmer. Every girl wants to be told they were forgotten about.

"Are you hungry?" James asked me softly.

"No." My pride answered. I am not about to allow James Potter feed me. I am not helpless.

I can even brush my own teeth, thank you!

But whatever my pride said, my stomach overruled when it gurgled obnoxiously.

Sod!

"That's a yes." James grinned. He turned to the others. "I will take her down to the kitchens. Don't wait up for me." He winked.

Uh oh. I am about to be taken to the kitchens, alone, with Potter.

Except I did announce that I would marry him today.

I think I have contradicted myself.

Shut up, brain.

"I would much rather get a shower and clean clothes." I said desperately. The boys looked confused.

What girl is desperate to get away from the Marauders, some of the most abso-bloody-lutely gorgeous men on earth? Lily Evans, that's who. Girls would kill for this position.

James finally noticed my state. His eyes looked me up and down, and I folded my arms in front of my chest defensively. Everyone knows what teenage boys fancy at that age, and I was not going to treat Potter to Lily Evans in soggy, wet clothes.

"I suspect a shower might be primary when you look like that." James said.

Gasp! He just called me ugly!

Potter seemed to realize his mistake when my features visually became cross.

"Um….I mean…uhh…well…." He babbled.

Spit it out or I will jump down your throat and pull it out!

"What I meant was….wet clothes can't be comfortable. Your beauty is untouched. Come. You can shower upstairs. We will transfigure you clothes." James added slyly.

You are not fooling me. I am no fool, you …fooling…berk.

"Appropriate clothes." I added. Boys' minds are gross.

James sighed heavily, defeated. "Appropriate clothes." he confirmed. He motioned for me to follow him to the dormitory.

Can I just take this time to say that the next thing that happened as I followed James was just a terrible sick joke played on me by the universe? Most people just die normal, ordinary deaths, by my death occurs by two mortifying nouns:

Death by embarrassment, and klutzdom.

If you put them together you get embarraslutzdom.

I shudder.

In one day, I have been to a cutthroat cat-fight school, announced a fake engagement to a bloke who thinks I am a boy, fought with my mother, fought with purebloods, was rescued/kidnapped by a pureblood that is really a 'good guy', turned back into a girl for him, went swimming on the lake, was discovered by the astonishingly dim but very nice gamekeeper, and now this happens.

This has got to be the best day ever. I'm having the clumsiest, stupidest day in Hogwarts history.

What happened that is so indescribably embarrassing?

I followed Potter towards the dormitory staircase. I wasn't worried about using a boy's shower…I had lived with them long enough to know natural tornadoes occur frequently within their living quarters. Things were actually going smoothly, until I passed that hideous, lion statue. It had claws. Claws that snagged my limp, wet skirt when I passed by it.

I didn't notice anything until I heard a distinctive riiiiippp and I was suddenly unable to walk properly because my skirt was about my ankles.

Potter did not notice until I stopped following him, then he turned around in curiosity as to why my feet had stopped faithfully pitter-pattering behind him.

Why must I endure such appalling moments in public, while everyone else has the good grace to royally screw up in private?

Perhaps it is better not to know, because there cannot possibly be a positive answer in my interests.

James's eyes went wide. I blushed forty-two shades of red and snatched a pillow from the couch and held it in front of me.

When I heard snickering from the door, I saw the other three, in vain, holding back laughter. I snatched another pillow off the couch and held it behind me. If I had another arm, like Nataraja, I would have thrown pillows at each of them.

Even better, something much better: I would have thrown Potter at them.

I have learned a very valuable lesson today. It is physically impossible in all forces of the universe for me not to publicly embarrass myself.

Sucks to be me.

At least they weren't saying anything.

But of course, anyone who doesn't have completely embarrassing moments like me feels no compassion for those who are victims of their own actions.

In translation, Sirius decided to speak through his laughter:

"Your knickers have pink pygmy puffs on them."

James and I sat in front of a roaring brick oven fire with our little pow-wow of house elves waiting to serve us in the kitchen.

I was quite comfortable, might I add. James cleared out the boys' showers of their usual inhabitants so I could use them, and stood guard at the door. He shrunk a t-shirt to fit me snugly, but I had to put up with his extra-long sweats. I only tripped over them seven times, once knocking over a 2nd year.

On top of that, I had Turkish Delights. Welcome to the Dark Side; we have good food.

"Can I ask why you were wondering Hogsmeade sopping wet?" James asked, then stuffed a pumpkin pasty in his mouth.

No you may not. How would I explain I ran away from home because I told my mother I was marrying you?

"I ran away from home." I blurted, without thinking.

Egads! Why does my brain turn to mush and my mouth catch verbal diarrhea every time I am with Potter?

"You don't say. Why?" He asked.

"Because my mother believes in…promising her daughters. You know, engagements, betrothals…etcetera." I stuffed a pastry in my mouth smartly before I could say anymore.

That makes the statement:

Complete nut case.

"Oh dear," he looked completely defeated. "you are already taken then."

"No. I am not. That's why I ran. I told her I would have someone else. She did not like my choice."

My traitor of a mouth!

Why did I tell James this? To this day, I'm not sure, but once I started I couldn't stop.

"Who?"

"The only person suitable that came to mind."

"Which is?"

Nosey bugger.

"I…erm…"

"Yes?"

"sort of gave her"

"Go on."

"….your name."

I hadn't planned to tell him this, and therefore couldn't plan a reaction accordingly. He hadn't planned to hear his name either.

Insert awkward silence.

I turned away from him to hide the extreme blush in my face. I've always known that I was as far gone from the brink of sanity as possible without being committed to an asylum. However, this earns me a one-way ticket to St. Mungo's.

A stampede of rampaging hippogriffs may run me over now. They would be most merciful to do so.

I stole a peek at him. He was beaming. "Very well, I accept. However, the exchange of wedding vows will be difficult if I don't know your name."

"I didn't ask you to marry me! I am not marrying you! I am not even going to tell you my name!" I guffawed.

"Love, I am James Potter. I will get it from you." He grinned smartly.

Humble much?

He won't manipulate it out of me.

Ugh!

I loathe him.

I would have liked to eat my last Turkish delight, but instead I threw it at Potter's head to express my anger. When food is lost over a boy, things have gotten bad and vair vair sacre bleu.

I thought he was being nice, then he gets a bloody personality transplant.

Whatever.

I stomped out of the kitchen indignantly, purposefully ignoring his protests.

I'll just escape somewhere he cannot go. Which road to take?

Anywhere Gryffindor is out.

Slytherin, hell no.

I don't know the passwords to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw because we've never terrorized them.

They know too many secret passages.

AAAAGGGHHHHHH! I'm thinking of a word that starts with an 'F' and it is not fiddlesticks!

I cannot escape him!

Forces of the universe turn me into an ear wig and get on with murdering me.

I stampeded to the entrance, and outside onto the grand staircase that we had all been herded across at the beginning of the year.

The stone was utterly cold under my bare feet, and the almost-November air was sehr freeze-your-knickers-off.

All in all, I think I did well. I held my head high in that whole fiasco in the kitchens. I made my point with the Turkish delight, and then got on with things. I didn't make any nasty comments about his insensitivity to my feelings. I have only retreated out here to lick my proverbial wounds.

But that can't be true because I most certainly do not care about what Potter thinks. I don't think he has the guts to actually hold us to our engagement.

Especially if he can't find me. He can scoooooour the Earth, but he will not be able to find meeee because he won't look for me in Leeeee.

Why I said that in a sing-song voice is beyond me.

I trotted down the stairs backwards so I could mockingly wave goodbye to the school. Lily has had her share of adventure at Hogwarts-a-go-go for a bit. It is all up to Lee.

Ah ha ha ha! So long wankearauders! You can't catch me.

As I waved, I tripped over the extra-long pants, we are going to pretend I am not clumsy enough to trip over my own feet, and fell the last three stairs to the flat of my back.

Oh Bugger!

The twinkle-toes fairy strikes again!

The fairy has granted me an audience, who most likely saw the entire escapade.

"You are as klutzy as Lee." Potter speculated as he descended the stairs to me. "Luckily for you, I am an expert in handling these situations because of him."

Oh it's over. I will just stick to wallowing about my life in shambles. Potter's discovered me.

"Thank Merlin you're not him though. I would much rather be catching you as you fall." He grinned, and lifted me, with absolutely no effort, from the ground.

I just nodded dumbly, mouth agape.

Oh dear. In the name of sweet noodles, someone shoot me.

Instead of carrying me inside the castle, he walked further onto the grounds.

Go figure. I thought he didn't want me to leave.

I shifted a bit, and gave him a weird look, which he countered with a toothy smile.

He has gone barmy. Or he is determined to drive my absolute barmy but he does not know I am already barmy and I believe someone should tell him his efforts are in vain, because you cannot make the insane…more insane.

Can you?

Somewhere not far from the forest, he set me down. "Watch." He commanded, and began peering around the ground for something.

I idly noticed the crescent moon, a soft rainbow outline curved with its edges. Solar spots, also called aurora borealis, occurring around the moon. It caused the stars to sparkle oddly.

Ooh preeeettttyyyy.

James nudged me with his arm. He had found what he was looking for – a rock. A stupid rock. The Earth is full of rocks! The castle is made of them! Yet he drug me out here for a rock!

He placed his index fingers over his lips to shush any outburst I might make.

Tosser.

Gently, Potter tossed the rock into some foliage. Immediately, thousands of fairy lights ignited, burst from the shrubbery, swirled around us, and then planted themselves in the trees, blinking merrily.

Against that gorgeous sky, no wand, or anything known to man could have reproduced the magic of these lights. It was as if each little light sparkled with a promise for every individual on Earth. I half wondered which light was mine? And James's light?

For the love of God, I am such a romantic it is disturbing. Staring at the world through my metaphorical rose coloured glasses has shishkabobed my brain.

Damn romance.

James turned me towards him. "Shall we dance?" He held out a large, strong hand.

The little imps working my brain pulled the wrong levers, and put my hand in his. "But there is no music." I pointed out.

"Yes there is." His hand snaked around my waist, and pulled me to the appropriate spot for dancing –against him.

"I don't hear any." I argued.

Okay, so I gave in, but I had to do my pride justice and act stubborn to the very end.

Strangely, the music came. Not from a phonograph, an orchestra, or a music box, but from the depths of his Adam's apple; his voice! Who knew the lad could sing!

Silly Lily. (Pretend that rhyme never happened) He is James Potter; he does everything. I'm sure he could make a record, even go Platinum if he wanted to.

"Je fais de toi mon essential. Tu me fais naître parmi les hommes." His husky voice purred as he nestled his face in my hair. His warm breath tickled a lazy grin right onto my lips.

French? He knows French! Oh, Fabio! He probably has heard of Beauxbatons. I don't care.

"Je fais de toi mon essential. Celle que j'aimerais plus que personne. Si tu veux qu'on s'apprenne."

I rested my head on his broad shoulder. As he continued singing, I noticed some fairy lights had fallen from the tree, and the light-bringers had taken to swirling around our swaying bodies that might as well have been one.

Sometime during the night, I became conscious of my surroundings. I slept upon a lumpy, firm pillow that was mercifully warm. I was snuggled against this pillow, with some blanket wrapped around me and something unknown holding me in place.

My eyes fluttered open and dreary green eyes fell upon Potter's sleeping face.

Too tired to mind.

Yawn. Sleeping next to –yawn- Potter.

My eyes drifted shut.

Under a tree.

That's normal...zzzzzzzzzzz.

HIYA!

Sorry for postponing this update a few days more. I admit I was lost in this chapter, but I have got my heading.

I would like to thank all my lovely reviews and to say that I just love reading feedback from you!

The French song in this chappie is by Emmanuel Moire. It's title: Mon Essentiel. He's something of a Enrique/Julio Iglesias, Paolo Meneguzzi, Jay Chou, Gackt type artist. There is one for every country. I'm not a fan of sappy love songs but I couldn't resist this one. I'm sure some will be revolted by it, but Mon Essentiel deserves mention for its influence in this story.

Mind you, I don't speak French, but I've gone through the trouble of using a French dictionary, and asking friends to conjugate verbs to bring a rough idea of the lyrics. I implied interpretation of my own, but take it as you will.

Je fais de toi mon essentiel

Tu me fais naître parmi les hommes

Je fais de toi mon essentiel

Celle que j'aimerais plus que personne

Si tu veux qu'on s'apprenne

I make you my essence

You give life to me among man (referring to the race, not one man)

I make you my essence

I want that more than anybody

If you want that, one learns oneself

Sexiest lyrics of all time. (but better in French)

I invite you all to leave your input – nay, I insist! I do so love reviews. Correct my French if you can! I love languages, butmy French needs so much work, it's abysmal.