A/N: I'm back with another chapter for all you lovely readers! A special thanks to last week's reviewers: Silver Scorpion, SecretBlack, Sam-EvansBlue, defying-gravity269, 00Bookworm00, kanjimaru67, and Seeker!

Happy Friday, and happy reading :)

Chapter 3: Change Your Mind

"As this is a particularly difficult potion, I am going to put you into pairs today to work on it," Slughorn announced in class the next Thursday.

I automatically moved closer to Mary, but Slughorn continued, "Miss Macdonald, if you would be so kind as to work with Mr. Mackey"—Mary and Andrew grinned at each other—"Miss Evans, you and Mr. Potter will be partners for the day—"

What? Slughorn continued to pair people off, but I was no longer paying attention. This is some sort of cruel joke, right? He doesn't actually expect Potter and I to work together, does he? That is just asking for disaster. I turned to Mary in dismay, only to find her grinning at me.

"Have fun," she said sweetly before moving off to join Andrew at his table.

I glared after her. Why did she get assigned to work with her boyfriend, while I got—

"Hey, Evans." Potter took the seat beside me.

"Potter," I said curtly. He looked at me for a moment, then started unpacking his Potions ingredients, smirking.

Is everything a joke for him? I thought angrily, lighting a fire beneath my cauldron with my wand. I looked around; I'd rather be working with anyone else but Potter. Well, maybe not Black, but—I frowned, suddenly realizing that one of Potter's entourage was missing. "Hey, where's Remus?"

"Sick," Potter answered breezily, apparently unconcerned for his friend's well-being. I barely refrained from rolling my eyes.

"So, do you want to start with this first part, and I'll work on chopping these up?" Potter asked, indicating the valerian roots we'd need for step five.

I stared at him. Wait, he's actually going to be cooperative, and not just try to annoy me as much as possible during the next hour? "Er," I said, slightly thrown. "Okay, sure."

I continued to sneak glances at him as we started to work. Finally, he looked at me, frowning. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "It's just, you're . . . never mind."

Potter shrugged. "Okay," he said easily. After a couple more seconds of silence, he continued, "Well, I know you prefer to work alone, but—"

"How do you know that?" I asked.

Potter grinned. "You roll your eyes anytime one of our professors tells us to pair off."

I raised an eyebrow. "And do you always make a habit of watching me during class?" I grimaced inwardly as soon as I'd spoken—I'd pretty much set him up to make an annoyingly flirty reply. But something he'd said was nagging at the back of my mind, distracting me.

"I have had the same classes as you for five years, Evans. I bet anyone in this room has made that observation about you."

I opened my mouth to reply when I suddenly realized what had caught my attention. 'Well, I know you prefer to work alone' . . . Alone! At the end of last year, I told Potter to leave me alone, and . . . I frowned. Is that why he's been acting so strangely this year? "You're trying to leave me alone?" I said aloud, not realizing how odd that would sound, since Potter hadn't heard my previous train of thoughts—er, at least, I hoped he hadn't.

"I—er, what?" Potter asked, looking completely bewildered.

I blushed. "I—it's just, I've been trying to figure out why you've been acting so . . . so . . . not like you, and I think I figured it out. At the end of last year, when I told you to leave me alone—"

Potter suddenly burst out laughing. "What? That's not—and what do you mean, I've been acting differently?"

"Well, you haven't—I mean, you're dating Chloe now, but . . . you know," I babbled.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Evans, you're really not making any sense."

I sighed in frustration. "What I mean is, all the flirting and asking me out, and all the times I asked you to stop . . . why wait until now to actually do it?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Evans," Potter replied, almost contemptuously. "Not everything I do revolves around you."

"Okay, so what if I'd ever said yes? You're telling me you wouldn't have actually gone out with me?"

Potter shrugged. "You were easy to annoy—it was kind of funny."

I was so offended by this that I didn't notice he hadn't really answered my question. "So, you just did it all for your own amusement? Did you ever consider what would have happened if I'd started to fall for you? How I would have felt if I found out you'd just been using me for entertainment?"
Potter had the good grace to look slightly abashed at this. But he soon ruined it by grinning. "Well, I'm fairly certain hell's still nice and toasty, so we're good there."

It took me a moment to realize what he meant. When I did, I flushed again, both with embarrassment and anger.

Before I could formulate a reply, Potter continued, "Look, we should finish this—we've only got forty-five minutes of class left."

We worked in silence for the rest of the lesson.

00000000

"No way," Mary said emphatically when I told her about Potter's and my conversation in Potions. We were sitting in the common room after dinner, and the Marauders were nowhere in sight—I wouldn't have risked telling Mary otherwise. "He definitely liked you—you'd have to be blind not to notice that."

"I don't know; I wouldn't put it past him to have just been doing it all 'for fun,' or however he put it. You have to admit, it definitely sounds like something he'd do."

But Mary shook her head so that her brown curls whipped across her face. "Nope, I refuse to give in on this one."

"Fine, you can question him next time," I said with a sigh, turning to stare out the window. I certainly wasn't going to broach the subject again. It had angered me that he could be so cavalier about the reasons behind his actions. Not on my behalf so much as for women in general. I mean, who treats people like that? I was also highly embarrassed that I'd misinterpreted everything for the past five years. I had to admit, though, it did make more sense for it to all have been a joke—no normal person would willingly endure the number of rejections I'd given Potter.

Realizing I'd been absently watching the full moon track across the sky for the past quarter of an hour, I jolted myself out of my thoughts and reluctantly started in on the pile of homework before me.

00000000

As pathetic as it was, I sort of tried to avoid Potter in the next couple of days. Not that I'd ever actively sought out his company, but the more I thought about our Potions conversation, the more embarrassed I became. What the hell had made me ask if he was trying to leave me alone in the first place? God, he must think I'm some sort of spastic, paranoid, crazy woman. Not that I care what he thinks about me. Unless . . . Merlin, I didn't make it seem like I'd liked him, had I? Urgh, I hope he doesn't interpret it like that. Though with his big head, I wouldn't dismiss it as a possibility.

Upon further consideration, I'd made Mary promise not to talk to Potter about it—I didn't want to remind him about my cringe-worthy comments any more than I had to. Nevertheless, she remained determined to prove that he'd lied about not ever meaning it when he asked me out. When I asked how exactly she planned to go about this without talking to Potter, she merely assured me she 'had her ways.' So I gave up and left her to it. When Mary got a mission into her head, there wasn't anything that would make her quit until she'd fulfilled it.

As to my own mission to avoid Potter, I gave up on that fairly quickly. It was basically impossible, considering we had most of our classes together, ate in the same place, and lived in the same House. Luckily, he'd gone back to ignoring me, for the most part. Sometimes when we passed in the hall, he'd smirk at me as though we were sharing a private joke, though I got the distinct feeling he was mocking me.

Unforeseeably and unbelievably, I found someone who now annoyed me more than Potter: Chloe. I mean, this girl was ridiculous. It was like she had some sort of life or death need to be with Potter at all times. Honestly, I don't know how she survived her classes without him. If she even went to them, that is. Because she was always outside of our classrooms waiting for Potter when our lesson was over. And I mean every time. I don't think I ever saw her miss one. She'd greet him with a longer-than-was-strictly-necessary-since-you-just-saw-him kiss and then they'd stroll off hand in hand. I started staring at the floor as I left the room in order to avoid this nauseating sight—especially if it was the class right before or after lunch.

Even more unbearable was watching the two of them in the common room. If they weren't engaging in an intense snogging session—I still didn't see why they had to subject the rest of us to those—they were talking, and Chloe was fawning over everything Potter said and laughing loudly at every joke he made, even if it wasn't remotely funny. Which, in my opinion, applied to all of them, but it wasn't just my bias against Potter that made me shoot a dirty look her way every time Chloe burst out laughing. Looking around at others in the room, I could tell most of them were annoyed with the couple's antics as well.

Of further interest were the reactions of Potter's friends. Well, more one friend in particular. Peter didn't really seem to know what to make of Chloe, while Remus appeared to tolerate her, much as he did whenever Potter and Black were being particularly raucous. But Black absolutely loathed Chloe. Or so it appeared to me. It used to be you only had to find Potter or Black and you'd find the other. But now . . . I caught myself feeling a little sorry for Black—after all, even he didn't deserve to be replaced by someone as revolting as Chloe.

"Oh my God, it's not that funny, please shut up," Mary muttered not-so-quietly one evening as Chloe's laughter rang out in the common room for the umpteenth time.

I snorted, glancing over at the group by the fire. Potter was talking animatedly to Chloe, who had an adoring smile plastered on her face. Unable to stomach looking at them for too long, my eyes slid over to Sirius, who was glaring at the pair with a hatred that surprised me. He must have sensed me looking at him, because he suddenly glanced up and our eyes met. Black raised his eyes briefly to the ceiling, grimacing at me. Without thinking, I smiled sympathetically back at him. Oh my God, I thought, quickly looking away again. We just bonded over something. Okay, Potter and his girlfriend are officially poisoning my mind—I have to leave. "I think I'm going to head to the library, because otherwise I might murder one or both of them in about three seconds," I said to Mary, jerking my thumb back at Potter and Chloe.

"Okay—I may have to join you in a minute," Mary said, rolling her eyes.

I slung my bag over my shoulder and exited the common room. Taking a deep breath, I let it out in a long sigh, reveling in the quiet of the corridor as I started towards the library.

I'd barely been there fifteen minutes when none other than Potter and Chloe came in. Really? I thought, staring at them in disbelief. Seriously, what did I do in my former life to deserve this?

Chloe said something to Potter that I couldn't hear and walked away down one of the stacks. Potter glanced around the room, his gaze sweeping over me . . .

I quickly ducked my head. Don't come over here, don't come over here, don't—

"Fancy seeing you here."

I took a fortifying breath and looked up. I will not hex him into oblivion, I commanded myself sternly. "No, not really—of the two of us, Potter, I'm the more likely to be in the library."

Potter inclined his head towards me. "A fair point," he said. "Well, I couldn't work in the common room—too loud."

I looked at him sharply to see if he was joking. Unbelievably, he actually looked serious. I snorted in derision.

"What?" Potter asked, frowning at me.

I gave him a withering look. "You do realize it was you and Chloe making most of the noise."

Potter's frown deepened. "Really? Well, maybe that's why. . . ."

He trailed off, and I just shook my head. "I suppose you're actually here to do work?" I asked before I could stop myself.

Potter smirked. "What else would one do in a library?" he asked innocently.

I rolled my eyes. As if they didn't come here to have a good snog in private. Honestly that's got to be the only reason he's dating her. "She's really not your type."

I didn't realize I'd spoken this last bit out loud until I looked up to see Potter staring at me bemusedly. "Sorry?" he said.

I should put a permanent sticking charm on my lips, because apparently I can't be trusted to keep my big mouth shut, I thought ruefully. "Nothing," I muttered, mentally crossing my fingers that he would just let it go.

Too much to hope for with someone like Potter, however. He sat down across from me and asked, "And what exactly is my type, Evans?" He definitely sounded amused now.

"I—that is—" I was saved the necessity of answering by the arrival of Chloe.

"Found it," she announced, holding up a book. Her eyes flicked between me and Potter, a slightly frown creasing her brow.

"Great," Potter said, standing. "Well, see you around, Evans. Oh, and let me know if you come up with an answer," he added with a wink, slinging an arm around Chloe as they walked away.

I let out a long sigh as they turn a corner out of sight. Why can't I seem to stop making an idiot of myself in front of Potter this year? I thought irritably. Though it had been kind of amusing to see Chloe's reaction this time. She'd actually looked a little offended that Potter had been talking to me. I nearly laughed out loud when I wondered if she was jealous—it would almost be worth it to pretend to flirt with Potter just to mess with her head. But coupling that with our recent interactions would only make it seem like I fancied him, and I was absolutely not willing to allow that just to annoy Chloe.

Just then, Mary entered the library, looked around, and strode over to my table. "Hi," she said with a sigh, plopping down into the seat Potter had just vacated.

"Hey," I replied, moving my books to give her more room. "I didn't expect to see you here now that Potter and Chloe have left."

"Well, it turns out I couldn't concentrate even with them gone, so—hang on, how did you know they weren't in the common room anymore?"

"Because they're here."

Mary's mouth dropped open. "Really? Oh, come on," she said, annoyed. "I swear, if they bother us—"

"Don't worry, you've already missed the interruption," I assured her dryly. I proceeded to fill her in on my latest Potter encounter.

Mary snorted with laughter when I shared my thoughts on Chloe's reaction. "God, I hope she was jealous. You know what you should do, you should—"

"—pretend to flirt with Potter just to piss her off?" I finished.

Mary frowned. "How did you know I was about to say that?"

"Because I briefly considered it myself."

"And? Why not?"

I looked at her disbelievingly. "No way—it's not worth it for Potter to think—and don't start on your 'secret crush' theory," I said warningly as I saw the evil grin that was spreading across Mary's face.

"I wasn't going to say anything," she replied mildly, rearranging her features into an innocent expression.

"Right," I said sarcastically.

"But I do think it's sweet that you're concerned James might be dating the wrong person," she added, the evil smile returning. "It's nice that you're looking out for his well-being."

I glared at her. "I'm not concerned on his behalf; I'm just looking out for everyone else's sanity. You can't argue against the fact that things were better when they weren't dating."

"Unfortunately, no," Mary consented, wrinkling her nose.

00000000

The following Saturday marked the first Quidditch game of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The excitement in the air at breakfast was palpable—not that I contributed to it in any way; Saturday game days were just another day to me.

"Come on, Lily," Mary wheedled, "you have to go to at least one game before we leave here."

"And I have just under two years in which to do so," I countered, spooning eggs onto my plate.

Mary sighed. "Well, what are you going to do instead?" she asked, switching tactics.

I shrugged. "Probably catch up on some work."

My friend rolled her eyes. "Really? That is just—"

"Sad?" Potter's voice came from behind me. My eyes narrowed as I turned to look at him. Honestly, how could I have ever thought he was trying to leave me alone? "I agree, Macdonald," Potter continued. Turning to me, he said, "How is it that you've never been to a single match, Evans?"

"I just don't like Quidditch, all right?" I said a little defensively, though I wasn't sure why I felt I had to defend myself to Potter.

"If it's because you don't understand the rules, I could explain them to you," Potter offered with a smirk, as though that would have some bearing on my opinion of Quidditch.

"No, I know the rules. They're not that hard to understand—which is why you can play the game, I'm sure," I said sweetly.

Mary snorted in amusement, but Potter continued to smirk at me, unfazed.

"James, you coming?" Chloe's voice rang out from along the table, where the Gryffindor team had risen and started for the Entrance Hall.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a second," Potter called back. Turning back to me, he added, "Just because you're rubbish at something, Evans, doesn't mean you can't enjoy watching other people do it."

I was so shocked and insulted that I couldn't even formulate a reply. Potter's smirk morphed into a satisfied smile. He shouldered his broom and followed Chloe and the rest of his teammates from the Great Hall.

I turned back to Mary. "Well, now I'm definitely not going."

00000000

I spent the morning in the common room and actually did get a lot of work done without the usual distractions. After a couple hours of solid work, I decided I needed a break. Stretching, I walked over to the window and squinted towards the Quidditch pitch. I could just make out the small, fast-moving specks that were the players. That was another thing about Quidditch games—they could go on indefinitely. No thank you.

I left the common room and wandered around the corridors, no particular destination in mind. The castle is actually kind of creepy without anyone in it, I thought absently, shivering slightly. Caught up as I was in thoughts of dark corners and hidden passages where anyone could be hiding, the sound of voices coming from a nearby classroom nearly made me jump out of my skin. Merlin, get a grip, Lily, I chided myself, moving closer to see who else shared my dislike of Quidditch matches. However, before I'd reached a point where I could see far enough into room to make out any of the people within it, I heard a voice I recognized only too well.

"—if I want to do it?" Severus was saying.

"In three weeks." The gravely voice of Anton Mulciber floated out to me. I shivered again—he seriously freaked me out. "But what do you mean 'if'?" he continued harshly.

I inched closer, heart pounding. I didn't know why their conversation was making me so anxious, but something about it wasn't right.

"I've got some things to—look, I don't have to explain myself to you," Severus growled back.

"Fine, but he'll know if you're not completely committed."

Severus suddenly appeared in the gap between the door and the doorframe. I knew I should move, but I was rooted to the spot.

"Obviously," Severus scoffed. "I'm not—" he suddenly glanced around and stopped abruptly as our eyes locked. He swore as he strode out of the door. Grabbing my arm, he demanded, "What did you hear?"

The hard look in his dark eyes scared me. Mulciber had followed him out of the room, and when I glanced down, I saw him fingering his wand. Shit! I thought in a panic. How did I get myself into this? Trying to stay calm, I made myself meet Sev's eyes and said, "Nothing."

He snorted. "You're lying. What did you hear?" he asked again, more slowly and dangerously this time, shaking me slightly for emphasis.

"I don't know!" I replied, trying to pull my arm from his grasp. But he only tightened his grip—I was starting to lose feeling in my fingers. "I have no idea what you were talking about, I swear!"

Severus stared at me for a few seconds before finally releasing my arm with a sigh. He looked more normal, but that didn't stop me from quickly backing up several steps. I rubbed the place where his hand had been.

"You shouldn't be sneak—" Severus started.

"I shouldn't be? I shouldn't be?" I asked, my voice rising, anger at what he'd just done to me winning out over my fear. "You're the one having secret meetings in an abandoned classroom while the rest of the school's at a Quidditch game! And if that wasn't suspicious enough, your reaction just now pretty much confirms that you're up to something—something—bad. Even if I don't know exactly what it is, I could still tell—"

"You'll regret it if you do, Mudblood," Mulciber cut in roughly, his wand suddenly pointing between my eyes.

At that moment, the sound of footsteps and laughter reached my ears. I almost fainted with relief—it seemed that the Quidditch game had ended and people were returning to their common rooms.

"Come on," Sev said, forcing Mulciber's wand down and striding away from me along the corridor. Mulciber held my eyes for a moment longer, a warning look on his face, before turning to follow Severus. They rounded the corner out of sight, but not before the crowd entered the corridor, Potter at its head. He was grinning, but as he caught sight of Severus's retreating form, he frowned. His gaze quickly shifted to me, and as he drew level with the abandoned classroom, he said to Chloe, "I'll catch up with you in a minute."

I thought I saw her roll her eyes in frustration as she passed me. That would have amused me only an hour earlier, but now I barely noticed it.

"Did something—are you okay?" Potter asked.

To my horror, I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes. "I'm fine," I said shortly, hoping he wouldn't notice that my voice wobbled slightly at the end. I turned and started after the crowed of chattering students.

Potter hurried to catch up. "Well, you don't seem fine."

I glared at him. "And it's really none of your business."

"Okay, well I just thought maybe I could—"

"This doesn't automatically make you the good guy, Potter," I said, thinking of Severus. I knew that would make absolutely no sense to Potter, but I didn't care—I just wanted him to go away.

"Well, that clears things up," he said sarcastically. "Glad we've established that. I'll—"

I rounded on him. "Just . . . stop. Please."

Potter stared at me for a moment, a volley of emotions flickering through his hazel eyes so quickly I couldn't make them out. "You're not even going to try, are you?" he finally asked in a defeated voice.

"What?" I asked, frowning at him.

But he just brushed past me and disappeared around the corner.

Paid back confusion with confusion, I guess, I thought as I finally reached the entrance to Gryffindor tower. A loud party was already in full swing—evidently we'd won the Quidditch match. But I'd never felt less like partying in my life, and apparently, neither had Potter: he didn't show up for the rest of the day.

A/N: Wow, re-reading this, Snape is rather harsh. A bit too harsh, maybe. Hmm….oh well ;)