The Trouble With Lifts

Summary: "I should have known that a magical lift was a sign of trouble. And here I thought that an inanimate object couldn't pose a threat to my sanity - which was a ridiculous assumption. Obviously."

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, sadly. Everything Harry Potter is JK Rowling's, and the song lyrics are properly accredited to their creators. Wait, I guess I own the sketchy plot. Huzzah!

A/N: I hope you know how awesome all of you are, because you really are extremely awesome - just like giraffes. I thank you from the apex of my heart! (which, you know, is the bottom. I like being technical). On a side note, this chapter features a quote from one of my favourite bands (they refer to themselves as a folk rock duo), Flight of the Conchords. Every single one of their songs makes me smile, and I hope this chapter brings a smile to your face!

Chapter Three: Demon Woman

"You cast your spell…very well! Demon Woman! Ah ha ha ha ha! Demon woman - woman demon!

Demon woman, you cut puppies' toes off, pull an animals' nose off!

How'd you magic my clothes off?"

Demon Woman by Flight of the Conchords.

For the next two weeks, I avoided the Head's lift like it was the bloody plague. Even when I was running late to Transfiguration and almost certain to incur McGonagall's wrath. Even when I slept through half of Charms because I'd spent most of the night before talking to James in the common room, and then had been unable to fall asleep at a decent hour because I felt like I'd drank too much coffee.

"You've got the Potter Jitters again, don't you, Lily-bo-billy," whispered Chelsea with a sly grin. She nudged me with her elbow as we sat down for breakfast Friday morning. I tried not to smile, but it seemed useless. I'd run into James in the Head's common that morning. He'd looked tired, his hair even messier than usual, and his button down half open. He'd smiled, greeted me with a gruff "Morning' Lily," before disappearing into his room. Something about the way he'd said my name had set off a bunch of bees in my stomach, and ever since I couldn't seem to sit still. Or stop smiling like a loon, apparently.

Somewhere in the past two weeks I'd gone from a respectable, mature Head Girl to a hormone-ridden pre-teen. The thought was both depressing and oddly enjoyable. But I'd never let Chelsea know that. She'd have a field day.

"What was it this time, eh?" Chelsea asked, buttering a crumpet thoughtfully. "Did he snog you senseless on the corridor?"

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head as I reached for a croissant. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Well, what'd he do then that's got you all hot and bothered?"

"You sound like Marlene," I deflected, sighing, my smile fading slightly.

"Marlene is wise beyond her years."

"Marlene likes gossip and trashy romance novels," I pointed out. Chelsea rolled her eyes.

"You're avoiding the subject."

"Hm, really?" I asked innocently, taking a bite of croissant and strawberry marmalade.

Chelsea sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. "Are you going to deny your attraction to James Potter forever?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" I glanced around nervously, wondering if anyone had overheard. Chelsea rolled her eyes again.

"It's not much of a secret, my dear chum. The only person who doesn't seem to know is you." She looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "And possibly James."

"Well then everyone is mistaken. James and I are just friends," I told her, pulling out my Charms textbook and placing it between us. She let out a snort of a laugh.

"Right, and I'm a bloody purple niffler."

"I would have thought the colour was more indigo, personally."

Chelsea glared, took a vicious bit of her crumpet and crossed her arms. "This is absolute rubbish."

"The crumpet?"

"No!" she suddenly exploded, her face splotchy with anger as she jumped to her feet. She brandished a bit of crumpet at me like it was a weapon. "You and this sodding tip-toeing dance you and Potter are doing! You're both being right gits! He wants to snog you, you want to snog him - just bloody do it already!"

I gave her a look, affronted by her outburst. It took me a moment before I could speak, and when I did, I made sure my voice didn't convey any of the unwanted hurt I felt a I spoke the words.

"James said himself that he just wants to be friends."

"Well he's a bloody liar," Chelsea growled, dropping back down in her seat. She rammed the last of her crumpet in her mouth, chewing angrily.

"Who's a bloody liar?" asked Sirius Black, seating himself on the bench across from us. He looked just as tired as James had when I'd seen him in the common room. He rubbed at his bleary grey eyes before reaching for the entire plate of bacon. He looked up at us when we didn't answer. "Well?"

I was a little startled by his sitting with us, and it showed. "Why are you here?"

"And a bloody good morning to you too, Evans," he drawled with a frown, shoving several strips of bacon in his mouth. "Can't a bloke sit with someone new once in a while?"

"Lily's just upset because James isn't with you - OW!" Chelsea yelped after I punched her in the arm. "Bloody Merlin, Lily! Anger issues, much?"

"Shut up, Chelsea," I shot back, glaring at her before turning back to Sirius. "Sorry, Black. You just…usually sit with your friends."

His handsome face split into a grin. "Aw, Evans, you're my mate too, you know." He reached across the table and ruffled my hair. I glowered.

"Oh gee, how dandy," I muttered, disgruntled as I smoothed down my hair.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Evans," Sirius teased, smirking as he watched me pull out a small mirror to properly fix my hair, "Prongs'll still think you're pretty."

"That's not why…" I spluttered, my face flushing. Chelsea grinned.

"See, I told you, Lily! James still fancies you," she said smugly.

"He does not," I protested. "He said so!"

Chelsea shook her head, turning to Sirius, "Settle something for us, Black. Does Potter still fancy Lily?"

Sirius turned solemn. "Sorry, ladies. I'm not to speak of such things. Marauder's honour."

I snorted. "Since when have the Marauders ever been honourable?"

"Evans! You wound me!" Sirius said, his hand over his heart. "The Marauders are the finest example of chivalry, loyalty and equality in today's world!"

"Oh really?" I asked, disbelieving. He nodded in earnest as he dished scrambled eggs onto his plate.

"Oh yes, certainly. Exhibit A," he said through a mouthful of egg, "Second year, before Christmas. Operation Slytherin De-Pantsing. Did we leave any slimy Slytherins untouched by our prank? No, we treated 'em all the same! Equality!"

Chelsea laughed, shaking her head. "And what about loyalty?"

"Ah, exhibit B!" he said, another forkful of eggs making it towards his mouth. "Fourth year, when we pranked the professor's plates to serve only codfish for a week, we left McGonagall's plate unaffected. House loyalty!"

"But isn't that inequality?" I questioned. Sirius waved a hand, shovelling more eggs into his mouth. "Loyalty trumps equality. Besides, can you imagine the detention we would have gotten if we'd pranked her? We were lucky enough as it was that good ol' Dumbledore has a certain penchant for codfish."

I laughed. "Okay," I said, "and what about chivalry?"

Sirius got a gleam in his eye then. "That's easy," he said. "Have we ever pranked you, Lily Evans?"

My face was burning, and I ducked my head down, picking at the remnants of croissant on my plate. After a moment, Sirius chuckled, but said nothing. Chelsea prodded me on the shoulder.

"See, Lily? James still fancies you," she said. I could hear the triumphant smile in her voice. "Sirius practically confirmed it!"

"Let the record show," Sirius said, holding up his fork, "that I did no such thing. I simply implied that that may be the case."

"See," I countered. "He's not saying anything!"

"Let the record show, I'm not doing that either." He gave me a wicked grin.

"Shut up, Black," I muttered.

"Oi, come off it, Evans," Sirius said. "Everyone knows you fancy Prongs."

"I do not!" I exclaimed, but my blushing cheeks betrayed me.

Chelsea just laughed. "Your head may deny it, but your heart knows the truth, Lily."

"Yeah, and you spent all last Transfiguration class practically molesting him with your eyes," Sirius pointed out before taking a bite of toast. I glared at him. "I was not."

"Ignorance is bliss, is it not, Mr Black?" Chelsea asked, fixing me with a big, cheeky grin. Sirius nodded, his eyes full of mirth.

"Ay, that it is, Miss Fanrae."

"But," Chelsea said, leaning in towards me. "You are ignorant no more, are you, Lily Evans?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." I refused to look at her.

"We've put the doubt there, Lily!" she said. "No matter how hard you try to ignore it, you'll think about it, and realise just how bloody blind you've been lately. And then you'll come to your sodding senses and snog the boy."

"I'm leaving," I told her, standing up and gathering my things. Chelsea sighed. "Lily…"

"No, just drop it, Chelsea," I said, rubbing at my temple. I had a sharp, pounding headache. "Just…just leave it."

For the first time, she looked a bit concerned, and maybe a bit worried she'd over-stepped her bounds. I took pity on her.

"Relax," I said. "I'm not cross with you. Not really, anyways."

She nodded, still looking worried. She let me go though, and I walked out of the Great Hall focusing only on the steady beat of my foot steps and the thrumming of my confused heart. I stared at the stone floor as I walked, my thoughts circling. I looked up when I heard voices approaching.

"Look, Wormtail, I know you didn't mean to wear my trousers instead of yours. All I'm saying is that it's a bit weird."

"I know, I know, James, I'm so sorry! I thought they were mine, but it turns out mine were under the dresser."

"Well, could you take them off then?" there was a pause. "No! No! Not here!" James chided as he turned the corner. He had his hand in his hair, clearly exasperated by the smaller boy's actions. Peter Pettigrew looked up at James, his eyes wide, his chubby little hands still on the belt of James' pants which were ten sizes too big for him. "Sorry!" he said, nervous. "Sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Just…just leave it, Wormy," he said, his eyes locked on me as I drew closer. He smiled. "Hey, Lily."

"James," I said, nodding. "Peter."

There were dark circles under James' eyes, and he still looked dishevelled and half awake, although his hair was damp and tousled from being recently washed. I ignored the sudden urge I had to run my fingers through James' hair, assuring myself that it was simply because it was so messy it annoyed me and I wanted to fix it. I also noticed that Peter didn't look exceptionally bright eyed that morning. I frowned, something tugging at the back of my brain.

"Where's Remus?"

"Hospital wing," Peter piped up, pulling his robes snugly around him, trying to covers James' awkwardly long pants. I nodded, "It was a full moon last night, then?"

Peter blanched, and James' face fell flat. "Pardon?" he asked.

"Remus plus a full moon equals a long night ending in a visit to the hospital wing."| I said. After a moment of continued silence I raised an eyebrow. "Come now, James. You didn't honestly think you were the only one who knew, did you?"

They both gaped at me like fish, and I'll admit I was slightly pleased to actually catch James Potter off guard. He was usually exceptionally quick witted. Peter looked from me to James in a panic as I began to walk away. I smirked to myself and set about fully ignoring the flurry of bees in my stomach that were in a tizzy after seeing James twice in one morning.

"Wait up a second, Lily," James shouted, jogging down the corridor and falling into step beside me. "You know about Remus'…furry little problem?" he asked.

"'Course I know," I told him. "I'm not blind, James. I saw the signs and I put two and two together."

He seemed confused. "And you didn't tell anyone?"

"Of course not!" I told him, offended. I stopped abruptly and faced him. "Why would I do that?"

"Well, because…he's…you know," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Most people would be afraid."

"His condition doesn't seem to affect your friendship with him, why should it affect mine? And for your information, not even Chelsea knows. She's under the impression he owns a badly behaved rabbit," I told him pointedly before sighing. "I'm a little disappointed you think so poorly of me."

"Lily, that's not what I meant, not at all," he insisted, stepping in front of me as I tried to move away. He caught my hand in his. The bees in my stomach instant transformed into butterflies as my breath caught in my throat.

"What did you mean then?" I asked, my voicing coming out as a whisper. He brushed a wayward strand of hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. There was a pause as his hazel eyes searched my face. The air felt charged, and I could have sworn there was a crackle of electricity between our fingertips.

"I don't remember," he whispered finally.

"You don't remember?" The question came out as little more than a low squeak. He shook his head, his gaze never leaving mine.

"No," he said. His face was moving ever closer, millimetre by painstaking millimetre . "I've sort of forgotten what we were talking about," he admitted with a sly smile.

The distance between us was shrinking, our faces no more that a few inches apart. An odd warmth was spreading over me, and as my eyes darted down to James' lips I suddenly realised something.

I wanted to kiss him.

And bloody hell did that scare me.

A whole hell of a lot more than any bouts of lycanthropy.

I pulled away sharply, clearing my throat. James' right hand went instantly to his hair, his fingers raking though the strands as he let out a frustrated sigh. He looked at his watch, then fixed me with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I should head to breakfast if I'm going to make it to class on time," he said, adjusting his glasses. "I'll see you later, Lily."

"Right," I whispered, shaken. "Later, then."

He spared me one more glance before he turned and headed down the corridor towards the Great Hall. I watched him as he shoved his hands in his pockets and disappeared around the corner. But that look on his face, the last one he'd given me before turning away, didn't fade from my mind. He'd looked…was it possible he'd looked upset?

But he'd said he'd just wanted to be friends! I glared down the corridor. How dare he change his mind. That was supposed to be my prerogative. I sighed, raking my fingers through my long hair as I turned on my heel and headed toward the Charms classroom on the third floor. Maybe it was just a lapse in judgement. Old habits can be hard to break, and even though he said he'd…given up on me, maybe I was a more difficult habit to break than he'd originally thought? The idea was sort of flattering, and I felt myself smile as I entered the classroom.

Professor Flitwick looked up from his desk, shooting me a little smile as I slid into my seat. I smiled back, but my thoughts were far from the classroom.

Hypothetically, if James still did fancy me, what did that mean for me? According to Chelsea - and Sirius, for that matter - I liked him a bit more than was typical of cordial friendliness. And I'll admit - although to no one but myself - that perhaps they were right. It was getting harder and harder to ignore the evidence. I was friends with Remus Lupin but I didn't get butterflies when his hand accidentally brushed mine during our prefect duties last year. I was friends with Amos Diggory but I didn't get an odd jelly-legged feeling when he smiled at me. No, oh no, all those feelings were left for James Potter to evoke. Damn him.

And according to Chelsea and Sirius, my hypothetical situation wasn't so hypothetical. They were both quite adamant that he still fancied me. It explained a lot of things. The food, for instance, and the odd electrical charge that seemed to fill the air when we were alone. It couldn't all have been one sided, could it?

The Charms classroom was beginning to fill with other seventh year students, and after a few more minutes, Chelsea found her seat next to mine.

"You alright, Lils?" She asked, tilting her head to the side. I nodded, watching as James entered the classroom with his friends. Remus looked more under the weather than all of them, but he looked happy. His friends seemed determined to make sure that he didn't spend his days sulking about his lycanthropy. I realized then that if that was the sort of person James Potter was - the kind that would risk all sorts of things to help out a friend - then that wasn't really a bad sort of fellow to fancy, now was it?

I felt the smile spread across my face, and I couldn't seem to make it disappear. The feeling bubbling up in the pit of my stomach was a bit alarming, but I allowed it to wash over me. I gave myself that one moment to fully appreciate my little epiphany before I would be forced to squash down my feelings and set about ignoring them. Because honestly, whether I fancied James Potter or not didn't mean I could actually do anything about it.

Because he was James Potter, and I was Lily Evans.

We did not mix.

At least that's what I kept telling myself.

But if I was being honest…it's probably because I was a big chicken that I refused to do anything.

I spent the rest of the day trying to focus on my lessons, but really spent my time focussing on James. He kept his distance, even avoiding the Head's dorm until I was already locked away in my room, my nose buried in an old copy of 206 Revolutionary Uses of Blast-Ended Skrewt Excrement. It had been a gag gift from Chelsea when I'd turned fifteen. She had found it utterly hilarious. I actually found it to be both entertaining and informative.

I woke up early Saturday morning, showered, dressed and spent a ridiculous amount of time making sure my hair looked presentable. It was extremely uncooperative that morning. I met Chelsea in the corridor on the way to the Great Hall. She was wrapped up in her Gryffindor scarf, wearing a red and gold jumper beneath her cloak, and carrying a large triangular flag with a lion's head on it.

"Lily!" she cried when she saw me, her face breaking into a wide grin. "Look what Marlene helped me make last night!"

She raised the flag in the air and began waving it back and forth. The drawing of the lion opened it's jaw and let out a deafening roar. I covered my ears as Chelsea squealed with glee.

"Isn't it brilliant?" she gushed, gazing at the flag. I couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Chelsea. It's marvellous."

"Well it is the first quidditch match of the season!" she exclaimed, looping her arm through mine and leading me down the hall. "We've got to show our Gryffindor pride, haven't we?"

"Yes, of course," I told her, nodding solemnly.

"Speaking of which," she said, studying me with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "I was thinking you could use a bit of Gryffindor spirit yourself."

"What do you mean?" I asked, guarded. "I'm wearing my scarf."

"Lily," she chided. "You're Head Girl. You can't simply wear a bleeding scarf."

Which is why, after we'd shovelled down some toast and pumpkin juice, I had bright gold streaks in my hair as we made our way down to the quidditch pitch.

"I look ridiculous," I groaned, ducking my head and avoiding the curious glances I was gathering.

"Au contraire, mon amie. You look smashing!" Chelsea said, fixing me with her bright smile. We wound up the narrow staircase to the box where the rest of the Gryffindors were waiting. There were cheers as they saw me.

"That's bloody brilliant, Evans!"

"Love the hair, Lily!"

"Go, go, Gryffindor!" someone else shouted. Chelsea waved her flag, the lion's roar drowning out everyone's cheers, which only doubled as she continued to wave it. I found myself laughing and cheering with them.

"Welcome! Welcome to the first Quidditch game of the season! First up, we have…Slytherin!" shouted a fourth year boy, dressed entirely in green and silver. The other side of the field erupted into cheers as the Gryffindors boo-ed loudly. The announcer shouted to be heard, introducing each team member. None of us paid attention until we heard him introduce Gryffindor, but even then we were too busy shouting our praise to hear any of the names but the last few.

"Black, Mulburry, Mckinnon, and team captain, James Potter!"

No one missed the tone of sarcasm the announcer used when mentioning James. But we didn't care. We shouted, and clapped, and cheered, and Chelsea waved her flag, probably causing all of us permanent hearing damage. But that didn't really bother us either.

The game moved lighting fast, and I spent most of the match watching James fly through the air, weaving between chasers, beaters and bludgers with my heart in my throat.

"And that's another point for Gryffindor," sighed the Slyrtherin boy. "Somebody better beat the sh-snot out of these Gryffindors, soon," he muttered, but the sonorous charm on his throat amplified his every word. It was hard to miss the murderous glare on McGonagall's face as she slapped the boy upside the head.

"Ouch, sorry, Professor," he grumbled. "Potter passes to McKinnon! Black sends a bludger after Regulus, but misses! McKinnon passes to Dumfry - but Avery intercepts! Potter's chasing him, but -OH! A bludger's hit Potter! He's off his broom!"

I didn't need the snot-faced Syltherin to tell me that. I watched as James tumbled through the air, a string of rather foul swear words tumbling from my lips. Then, out of nowhere, Sirius Black swooped down, and reached out a hand to the falling James. James latched on, and the next moment Sirius flung him upwards, and James sailed through the air. Marlene McKinnon had snatched his broom out of the air and then fired it at him. James latched on, threw his leg over it, and then raised his arms over his head in a silent cheers as the Gryffindors erupted into ecstatic chaos. James's triumphant smile was unmistakable.

"And…and Potter's back on his broom," sighed the announcer. "Damn-OW! Sorry, Professor!"

It took a second for my heart to start beating properly, but when it did, I screamed, grabbed hold of Chelsea's flag and waved it like it was for bloody Queen and country. Chelsea burst out laughing, and wrapped her arms around me. We both continued to cheer until our voices went hoarse.

The game ended when the small third year on the Gryffindor team caught the snitch an hour later. The final score was 210 for Slytherin, 680 for Gryffindor. There was no stopping the chaos that ensued the minute everyone traipsed back to the Gryffindor common room. Magical banners and streamers were slung from corner to corner. Someone charmed red and gold confetti to fall from the ceiling. Butterbeers were laid out on the table. Firewhisky appeared in unmarked cups. Music by the Brothers Grimm blared from an old gramophone someone brought down from their room. Chants rose up at intervals, expressing passionate loyalty to Gryffindor, and the gleeful squashing of Slytherin.

But nothing rivalled the ruckus that broke out as the Gryffiindor quidditch team entered to room.

"Long live Potter!" someone shouted as the rest of us broke into applause and shouts of victory. James was the last to step through the portrait hole, right behind Sirius, who clapped him on the back. His hair was damp and his skin had that raw, fresh look that happens right after you shower. I felt my stomach drop to my feet.

"Melrin," I muttered, taking in his appearance. I couldn't deal with the sudden urges I had to run up to him, to throw myself into his wiry, muscular arms. Maybe it was all the adrenaline in my system, or all the frivolity in the common room, but I just couldn't quite handle it. I tugged at the collar of my shirt, feeling too warm and entirely too aware of the blush creeping up my neck. I reached for a cup on the nearest table and downed it. It burned, and I spluttered.

"Er, Lily?" Chelsea said, eyeing me curiously. "That was straight firewhisky."

I coughed, blinking away the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "I'm aware of that," I croaked. She chuckled at me.

"Good to see you're finally getting into the spirit of things, Evans," Sirius said, appearing next to us and patting my shoulder. "It's about time you let your hair down and showed your Gryffindor pride."

I shot him a half-hearted glare. "I've got oodles of pride, Black." I pointed to my hair. "See?"

He laughed, deep and booming. "Yes, we could see it from the pitch. Isn't that right, Prongs?" Sirius said, turning to look over his shoulder at James. I swallowed thickly, turning to face him. James was smiling, his hand raking through his hair, making it stick up in tufts.

"It's true," he said with a smile. "And we could hear your flag from a mile away, Chelsea."

Chelsea beamed at that, and raised the flag again, waving it briskly. The lion let out a deafening roar and the common room erupted into cheers of "Victory for Gryffindor!".

"Ah, so that's what that was," said Remus, sidling up to us. He had a bit more colour in his cheeks as he smiled at us between bites of chocolate. Peter was there moments later, stumbling slightly the contents of his paper cup sloshing over the side.

"What'd I miss?"

"Nothing, Wormy." Sirius said before tugging on a strand of my hair. "Just admiring Evans' patriotic 'do."

"It's quite nice, Lily," Peter said, staring up me with eyes that were a little too close together. "Are you planning on keeping it like that?"

"No, Peter," I said. "It was just for the match."

"That's a pity, Lily. It looks rather smashing," James said with a smile, his fingers reaching out to move one of the gold streaks away form my face. I blushed an looked down. "Thanks, James."

There was a moment of awkward silence before Remus cleared his throat and said, "Sirius, Peter, would you…join me over by the fire for a second? There's something I have to discuss with you."

Peter looked confused, then glanced at James, "Shouldn't James…?"

"Come on, Wormy," Sirius said, ushering the small, lump of a boy away. "We can talk to James later."

"Yes, which reminds me," Chelsea said suddenly, "I need to speak with Marlene. Talk to you later, Lily."

And then I was left alone, next to the drink table with James. I tried to ignore the butterflies that had taken up residence in my stomach, and the way my heart seemed to skip a few beats every time his eyes found mine. He smiled, sighing and running a hand through his hair.

"Well, that wasn't obvious, now was it?"

I struggled for words. "No, completely subtle," I murmured. I reached for the bottle of firewhisky, pouring myself another cup. James raised an eyebrow.

"What?" I said. "Can't I have a bit of celebratory fun, too?"

"Of course," James said. "It's just…that's an awful lot of firewhisky for a girl your size, Lily."

"I can hold my liquor just fine, Potter," I told him sharply. It was easier to get angry with him than to deal with the way my legs felt like jelly when he smiled. I downed a rather large mouthful and tried not to splutter as it burned its way down my throat. I couldn't hide the cough though, and he smiled.

"You alright, Lily?"

"Fine," I said. I could feel the fuzzy warmth spread from my stomach to my fingers, and I smiled. "Perfectly splendid," I told him. He smiled then, and instead of my legs turning to jelly, I had the over-powering urge to step closer and press myself against him.

Oh dear.

I downed another mouthful - it was getting easier every time. Much to my chagrin, the urge didn't go away. It was, however, accompanied by a very light-headed feeling, and I wondered if this was the problem with not eating a proper lunch or supper before consuming alcohol. I tottered away from James, intent on finding some sort of snack.

"Lily?" he said, following me. When I tottered sideways his strong hands were there to brace me, saving me from ending up sprawled across the floor.

"Thank you," I said, but I was a bit alarmed when it came out slurred. He smiled then, finding it funny.

"Lily, are you really drunk already?"

"No!" I said, glaring. Then a moment later I deflated. "Yes," I told him sadly. "I'm pathetic, aren't I? Oh Merlin, I'm probably a disgrace to Gryffindor!"

He laughed then, leading me over toward the table where someone had brought food up from the kitchens. He started a plate for me, filling it with breads and cheese and bits of vegetables. He then took my firewhisky cup out of my hands and replaced it with a cup of pumpkin juice before leading me over to an empty space on the couch by the fire.

"There you go," he said, once I'd settled down. He sat across from me, placing himself on the coffee table. He downed what was left of the whisky in my cup.

"Careful," I told him, fighting the urge to giggle. "You might get cooties."

He smiled at me. My heart skipped a beat. "I think I'll take my chances," he said.

And there it was again - that insatiable urge to throw myself at him. Instead of succumbing to it, I shoved a carrot in my mouth, chewing noisily.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked after a moment. I nodded. "Yes. I think the food helped."

He nodded. "Too much excitement and fire whisky on an empty stomach can be a bad combination."

"True," I conceded, nibbling at a chunk of cauliflower. My insides still felt fuzzy and my skin felt hot, but I wasn't sure if that was entirely because of the fire whisky. James looked over his shoulder when someone called his named.

"I'll be right back, okay?" he said, his hand resting on my knee. I nodded, holding my plate in front of me, an odd spinach hors d'oeuvre halfway to my lips and unable to form words. My skin burned where his hand had been. He threw me one last resolve-shattering smile before he got up and crossed the room. If he hadn't moved away, I very well might have thrown myself at him right then. I turned, watching as he approached a tall, thin, leggy blonde who batted her eyelashes so much I was sure she deserved to be sent to Azkaban for it.

"Have you got murder on the brain, my dearest chum?" spoke Chelsea, flopping down on the couch next to me. "You've got a look on you that could kill."

I jutted a carrot in the blonde's direction. "Who's that?"

"Sixth year," Chelsea said, shrugging. "I think her name is…Candace? Yes, Candace Fletcher."

"I don't like her," I muttered darkly, gnashing a carrot between my teeth. Chelsea chuckled, throwing her arm around my shoulders.

"Is someone a bit jealous, Lily?"

"No," I muttered.

She laughed. "Drink your pumpkin juice, Lilykins. James will be back in a flash, you'll see."

I threw her a glare and downed my cup. I didn't think about how there was an unnatural burning sensation that accompanied the juice. Chelsea had left a few moments later when someone started a game of Pin the Tail on the Slytherin, and I spent the next half an hour brooding on the couch, devouring hors d'oeuvres and downing several cups not-quite-pumpkin juice.

When James returned, muttering apologies about overly-chatty birds, I was feeling significantly more up beat.

"James!" I exclaimed, flashing him a bright grin. "You came back!"

"Of course I did," he said, giving me a curious look. "Are feeling okay, Lily?"

"Oh I'm just spiffing, James Potter, thank you for asking!" I told him, a giggle escaping my lips before I downed the rest of my juice. For some reason, saying his full name seemed immensely joyous to me at that moment. James' gaze narrowed, took the cup from my hands, and sniffed it. He sighed, shaking his head.

"I should have known it was spiked," he muttered, rubbing his forehead. He then looked at me, fighting the urge to smile. "You're going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow, Lily Evans."

"Nah," I told him with a smile and a wave of my hand. "I feel great."

He laughed, rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses. "For now."

I tilted my head to the side, studying him. "You know what would make me feel even better, though?" I asked him.

"What?" he asked, smiling at me. I smiled back.

"If we snogged."

The words just slipped out, easy as pie. They filled me with a giddy sort of excitement as I watched James laugh and run a hand through his hair again.

"Just how drunk are you?" he asked.

"I'm not drunk at all!" I said, which - even in my inebriated state - I knew was a lie. "Well, okay, yes, I am. But I wanted to snog you long before I was drunk."

"Really/"

"Oh yes," I said, nodding enthusiastically. "You make me feel funny inside."

"Hmm," he said, fighting not to smile. "That's good to know."

"So," I said. "Can we snog now?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?" I asked, glaring and jumping to my feet.

"Because, you'd be very cross with me tomorrow."

"Rubbish," I told him. "I'd be thrilled."

He chuckled. "I doubt that."

I glowered at him for a moment, then turned as swiftly as I could manage and stumbled away. He followed, a laugh in his voice as he asked, "Where are you going?"

"To find someone who will snog me."

"That shouldn't be hard," he muttered. "But Lily, wait."

"Why?" I asked, my tone sharp. I felt hurt, and upset because James didn't fancy me, and everything seemed wonky and blurry if I tried to focus on something too far away.

"Because if you snog someone else, I'll be terribly jealous," he said, with a half-hearted smile. My face brightened.

"You will?" I asked, smiling again, stepping closer to him. He cleared his throat when I stepped so close I was brushing up against him. He stepped back and nodded. "Yes, terribly."

"But you won't snog me?"

"No, not tonight."

I frowned. "That doesn't seem fair."

He laughed. "No, I suppose it isn't."

I sighed, and rubbed at my head. "I'm tired," I sighed, and began heading to the couch again, nearly tripping over an over-turned chair. James caught my arm, and began leading me over to the far corner.

"Here," he said, still chuckling. "I'll take you to your dorm."

"That's very sweet of you, James Potter," I sighed happily, patting his cheek. He laughed, and tapped the wall with his wand, muttering something about needing a lift. A moment later, the walled turned in on itself and the lift doors slid open. He helped me in as I smiled up at the ceiling of the lift.

"James," I said excitedly as the doors slid shut. "James, remember what happened the last time I was in the lift?"

"Head Dorms," he said to the lift before looking down at me. He was holding me against his side so I didn't fall over. My legs didn't seem to be entirely under my control.

"You visited me in my room," he said, giving me a slightly puzzled look.

"And," I said, fixing him with a bursting smile, "I saw you naked! Well, half naked," I corrected myself.

He laughed as the lift flew upwards. Then, suddenly, the lift jolted sideway, slamming him against the wall, and therefore me up against him. His chest was firm beneath my fingers, and without thinking I leaned up and pressed my lips against his. There was a moment of hesitation, and then he responded, his hands threading through my hair and my fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. I had succeeded in undoing four buttons before he broke away.

"Lily," he said, his voice rough. "Lily, stop!"

I looked up at him reproachfully. "Why?"

"Because…" he said weakly. His face was flushed, his glasses askew. His hair was dishevelled, just the way I liked it, and I could see a bit of the smooth planes of his chest where his shirt hung open.

"Exactly, there's no good reason not too," I whispered, leaning into him again, pressing my body against his as my lips drew nearer. He groaned, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Lily, you're drunk," he whispered. "I can't…I can't do this."

I sighed. "Fine. Fine," I said, stepping away and untangling my limbs from his. He looked dejected and torn. His hand reached out for my waist, but stopped halfway.

"You should go," he said softly, gesturing to the open lift doors. My bedroom was in full view, and I stumbled into it, both peeved and a tiny bit relieved he was letting me go. I was aware that something was amiss with my logic, and was grateful that atleast he seemed to be thinking clearly, even if I couldn't.

I turned back to him, "Night, James."

He sighed. "Night Lily," he said. He then muttered something to the lift and the doors slid shut, erasing him from my view.

I turned to the mirror across from my bed, taking in my unkempt appearance. My hair was tousled from James' fingers, and my lips looked slightly pinker than normal. I smiled blearily at myself before flopping into bed, still fully clothed and smelling rather strongly of firewhisky. I fell promptly asleep, dreaming about lifts and stolen kisses.

A/N: Alright my lovelies, review and let me know what you think!