Her charm hadn't worked. Three more notes, and she'd spotted no signs of the culprit. She'd have to think of something else. The only upside was they seemed to have run out of terrifying ideas. The gravestone in the last note had been just a bit corny. Really lackluster, all around.

She sat in Potions, a few minutes before class was set to start. Only about half of the students had shown up. Lily was taking the opportunity to flip through some of Slughorn's books. She claimed mild curiosity, knowing that whether he liked her or not, he was the head of Slytherin, and to be treated with suspicion.

The Maruaders came in, laughing and shoving each other, as they always seemed to be. She didn't look at James. It always made her feel a little sick, seeing him in public. Whether he insulted her or not, it never felt good to have him ashamed of his relationship with her.

She tried to focus on the task at hand, but found it hard to concentrate. Giving up, she snapped her book shut and spun on her heel, only to slam straight into James. He steadied her instinctively. The glance toward his friends was just as knee-jerk.

"Merlin, Evans," James said, voice colder than she'd heard in a long time. "I know you're the size of a walrus, but at least you could try to look where you're going."

Sirius laughed and immediately took up a walrus impression. The barking was at least half seal, and apparently he couldn't resist adding some ridiculous clapping, but it got most of the class laughing.

Lily ignored them, put her book away, and returned to her seat. Slughorn silenced them all when he entered a few moments later and told them to open their books.

Lily opened hers to the required page. She had to hold back a scream when she found what was unmistakeably a lock of her own hair, soaked in blood.

She tried not to react. Her first instinct was to examine every strand of her hair. But then they'd see, and they'd enjoy her panic.

She glared at Sirius Black without thinking about it. After all, he was the sort to enjoy getting a rise out of a person. But the moment she focused on him, she realized she was missing a golden opportunity. So what if it might be embarrassing. They could give themselves away. She could finally have something to go on.

She closed her book and began frantically combing her fingers through her hair, looking for any thin patches. All the while, she kept her eyes peeled for anyone watching her.

The only person in the room paying her even the least bit of attention was James. That is until Sirius noticed and drew everyone's attention to her.

"Disgusting, Evans. Have you got lice then? Or is it fleas? I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could do something for you. Professor?" he called, and Slughorn turned from writing instructions on the board. "Evans has some sort of infestation. She needs to go to the hospital wing. Preferably before she passes her filth on to anyone else."

Lily froze at the word 'filth'. Maybe she shouldn't have crossed him off the list after all.

"Is this true, Lily?" he asked.

For a split-second, she thought about explaining herself, showing him the hair, proving she wasn't some dirty, flea-infested mudblood. But she knew the opposite would happen. If it turned out it was just a prank, or one pureblood maniac acting on his – or her – own, she'd just succeed in making herself a special target for the whole lot of them.

"I think I'm having an allergic reaction," she said, ignoring Sirius' snorted laughter. "I'd better go have her look at it." She grabbed her bag, shoved her book inside, and tried to leave with as much dignity as possibly, despite the booming laughter that followed her out.

To her shock, Madam Pomfrey actually excused her from her classes that day. The woman obviously thought Lily had snapped from the stress of N.E.W.T.s, but Lily didn't mind. She had the whole day to focus on finding a new way to trap her tormenter.

She scoured every book she had, but found nothing of use. Then, she broke into James' room and searched through his as well. She didn't figure he had much room to complain, after today.

When he showed up that night, he did a double-take, surprised to find her door propped open. He made no comment on her appearance, though she had transformed over the course of the day into something nearly as mad as Pomfrey took her to be.

Her hair shot out at every angle, tamed only slightly by two separate quills jammed into it. Each had enough ink dripping off of it to have stained bits of her hair black. Her face hadn't escaped the onslaught either; several streaks of ink marred it.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice devoid of its usual amusement.

"Yes. Fine. Busy."

"That's it? 'Yes. Fine. Busy.' You're not going to shout at me for being a wanker?"

"You're a wanker," she said, without much interest. "And as such, I borrowed your books without asking."

"Alright," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels. "Did Madam Pomfrey-"

"I haven't got fleas, James. Or whatever else your even bigger prat of a friend might have suggested."

"I take it the allergic reaction also wasn't -"

"No, I'm quite allergic. Every time I see you with your friends, I want to vomit."

"Well, that's more what I was expecting," he muttered, looking away.

"Glad I could help," Lily said, and returned to her search.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You could bugger off," Lily suggested.

"Right. Well. I'll just . . . go, then, shall I?"

Lily made a vague affirmative noise, not bothering to look up. In fact, she didn't at all until an hour later, when she needed to change books.

She paused outside his door, considered packing in her search for the night, and then rapped her knuckles against the door. He looked up from his desk, and rose immediately.

"Hi," he said, trying for nonchalant and settling on ridiculous, as he sauntered toward her. "Didn't think I'd see much of you tonight."

She shoved a book into his stomach and turned toward his desk. "I'm finished with this one. I thought I saw something in here earlier about useful household spells."

"Why would you need that?" he asked.

She waved the question away, and examined the titles scattered across his desk.

He gave it several moments, but finally walked over to his bookshelf and pulled a volume off of it. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Lily read the title, flipped through the text. "It is. This is perfect. Thanks." She turned to walk away without another word, but he caught her arm.

"I'm sorry," he said. "About what I said today. It was ridiculous. You have to know that. Walrus isn't even a very good insult."

"I'm really not-"

"It was stupid, though. I'm sorry. Really."

Lily looked down at his hand on her arm. "Are you going to let me go now?" she asked.

He stepped back, releasing her. "Of course." He folded his hands behind his back, looking oddly formal.

"Night, James. Thanks for the book."

"Goodnight, Lily."