I'm having one of those nights; I can't sleep no matter how hard I try. Alice fell asleep almost the second her head hit the pillow, and Jocelyn and Joy had conked out not long after.

Jocelyn and Joy are the Patil twins, and they really keep to themselves, though Alice and I are friendly with them. The other two I share a dormitory with, Florence and Susan, are gone again. None of us are really certain where they go all the time; we've spent countless hours coming up with theories.

I get tired of staring up at the ceiling, and quietly get out of bed. I grab my wand from the bedside table, and the Invisibility Cloak from my trunk. On nights like this, I'm incredibly grateful that my dad gave the cloak to me instead of to James or Albus. Ideally, I would have the Marauders' Map tonight, too, but it's not my week with it. We share it between the cousins (and Ted), and Louis has it right now. I suppose I could go wake him up, but last time I did that he was less than pleased.

So I put the cloak on, and rush down the stairs before quietly slipping out of the portrait hole. The Fat Lady stays asleep. I carefully make my way down the stairs, stepping softly and carefully so my feet stay covered and so I don't attract the attention of the prefects or Filch. I choose my steps carefully, making sure to hop over the vanishing stair. After sneaking out of my dorm so many times, it was sort of routine, but still a bit of a thrill.

I turn down the hallway that will lead me to the kitchens, and reach out to tickle the pear on the painting. I walk in, expecting it to either be empty except for the house-elves, or that Dom and Anne might be in here, since they're both Hufflepuffs and it's way easier for them to get to the kitchen without getting caught, since it's just down the hall, and they're always around when I go for midnight snacks.

Instead, I see the only boy I wouldn't want to see at two a.m, when I'm in baggy pyjama pants and an old Weasley jumper. "Bloody hell, he's everywhere!" I exclaim, and Joseph looks up, clearly searching for the source of the voice. I consider quietly backing out of the kitchen and running back up to my dorm. But only for a moment. Instead, I pull off the cloak, only because I know how weird it would be to hear a disembodied voice that sounded an awful lot like a classmate.

"Lily," he says, amusement written all over his stupid face. "I thought I recognised your voice."

I scoff, crossing my arms and openly glaring at him.

"I'm sensing hostility," he remarks, quirking an eyebrow.

I scowl.

"Come on, Lily, I'm just teasing. Sit down, have a cup of tea with me." He smiles at me, and I'm struck by how kind his eyes are, even though that kindness seems to be rarely directed at me. I sit down across the small table from him, the only one that isn't a replica of the tables directly above in the Great Hall, knowing how quickly I could regret this.

"I always thought that only the Weasleys knew how to get in here," I admit, looking anywhere but at him. He chuckles, and I glance at him. I feel a peculiar sensation in my stomach, and wrap an arm around my torso, trying to make it stop. It feels like... Well, like nervousness, is the only way I can describe it. I don't like it.

"You're forgetting that I'm friends with most of your cousins, Lils," he says, and I want to hex him for using that nickname. I just shake my head and roll my eyes at him, then smile at the house elf that brings me a mug.

This is how it always is with Joseph. Or Scorpius, or Lorcan, or anyone that I've known since I was a kid. We're comfortable with each other, but there's still an underlying layer of awkwardness. In a, you knew me when I was a chubby little kid and you were there when my brother stuck my face into my birthday cake and I cried sort of way. Since his dad and my mum had been coworkers and friends for so long, the Wood family had been present at many Weasley functions. Unfortunately for me.

On one hand I am ravenously curious as to how he got down here without being spotted, but on the other hand, I've got a bone to pick with him. In the end, my aggravation wins the internal war, waged while Joseph looks at me questioningly. "So, you asked Alice to the ball," I state. It's not a question, and he knows that.

"We're getting right into that, huh? Alright," he shrugs, and his nonchalance makes me feel a twinge of annoyance. I frown and cross my arms, looking at him defiantly.

"I would like an-"

He interrupts me. "An apology?" he taunts, raising his eyebrows and smirking at me.

"No, you wanker," I snap. "An explanation." His expression sobers, and I almost feel bad for insulting him.

"Well, Lils. The way it happened was that I askedAlice 'Would you like to go the ball with me?' and she said 'yes'," he says, as though explaining it to a three year old.

I lean forward, reaching across the table, and tug on his hair. Just enough to hurt him a bit.

"Ow. Merlin, Lily!" he exclaims, rubbing his head.

I give him a faux sugary-sweet smile.

We were three. It was James's birthday – or maybe it was Al's. My mum was working for his dad, she invited their family over. The kids were all in the backyard, and Joseph did something – I can't remember now what it was- to annoy me. And I pulled his hair.

I don't why I was thinking of that now; it was my very first memory of this boy. And in it (shocker!) he was irritating me.

Now it's my turn to be nonchalant. "Don't talk down to me," I say simply. "And for your own sake, don't mess with Alice's feelings," I add darkly. I almost grab my wand from its place behind my ear, but I don't think Joseph, or anyone else, for that matter, needs reminding of how good my Bat Bogey Hex is getting. And I don't reckon that getting a detention for hexing him would be worth it.

"Who says I'm messing with her feelings?" he counters.

"I do," I reply.

I seem to have made him completely speechless. He just looks at me, mouth slightly open, as if he's about to say something. I smirk, feeling victorious. If he isn't defending himself, it means I'm right, says a voice in the back of my mind, but I hope it's wrong. I don't want my friend to get hurt.

I lean back in my chair, propping my feet up on the table and linking my fingers behind my head. "For those of you keeping score at home," I say in a voice that's purposely an octave lower than usual, "that's Lily, one, Joseph, zero."

He raises his eyebrows, looking at me in disbelief for just a moment before starting to laugh. "You're completely mental, you know that, right?"

I smile, as if he's just given me the world's best compliment. "I know," I laugh. "How did you get down here, anyway?" I question, curious as to how he did it without an Invisibility Cloak.

"Disillusionment charm."

"Seriously?" I say in disbelief, somewhat awe-struck. I know that those charms are hard to pull off, and we don't even start to learn them until seventh year. "No way."

"Nah, I'm just friends with the prefect that was patrolling tonight, I convinced him not to get me in trouble for being out this late."

"I hate you," I say, though my slight smile ruins it.

"Harsh."

"Hardly," I retort, without missing a beat.

He shakes his head at me, an amused smirk playing on his lips. I return it with a small smile of my own, in spite of myself.

This banter with him feels so utterly normal, so typical. It's sort of comforting; like having an old blanket that smells like home when you're far away. Bickering with Joseph always felt routine, and it was just what everyone else expected from us, as well. Like the time we got into an argument in Transfiguration when we were paired up for something or other and everyone stopped what they were doing to listen to us fight. Or, at the Burrow once, when the rest of the table went silent when we got into a discussion about which Quidditch team is best.

Of course, sometimes we just silently glare at each other, like when we were walking back from the Quidditch pitch a while ago. That's normal, too.

The almost nice moment is made completely awful when the door bangs open, revealing Filch standing in the doorway. I look at Joseph, panic written all over my face. His eyes are as wide as mine. We know there's no way to talk our way out of this; we know we're totally, royally, screwed.

"Evening, Mr. Filch," I say pleasantly, despite my quick heartbeat and the fear coursing through my veins, taking my feet off the table. "What brings you here?"

A/N:
GAH, I'm so sorry guys, I know this took forever! I'll try to keep my updates more regular from now on, promise.