Reviewers, you complete me ;) Thanks this week to: Meeeee (er….sorry, nothing I can do about it. Well, okay, I could, but….nope), jjxlea123, zoya, Abi (yeah, I'm kind of back to random updates, haha), The Candy Spooky Theater, JustAReader, faxlover0199, zaurora (You can ask, but….I don't think I can pick just one! How about top five? Okay….Luna, Lupin, Sirius, Ron, and Neville), Miss larien (well, this chapter is sort of short-ish again, but I think the next couple will be longer!), In Love With Prongs, I'm A Cuckoo (don't worry, it's coming soon! And by 'it' I of course mean L/J), Twilight Starlynn, junebugbug96, Teen Typist (No, not weird at all that you suddenly had a Rocky Horror reference—that happens to me all the time, where random phrases make me think of songs. Must happen at least twelve times a day. And yes, that was a completely random number I just made up on the spot ;) But thanks for the lovely review!), Audrey, freefallingx19, steel-trap (welcome back, haha), Evisawesome, anon w/no name, jak23 (make like Lily and do school on a sat….I see what you did there), OttoIsMyDog (I think 2 chapters after this….I know, almost over! Crazy), swishflick, CitrineDiamondEyes, mballerina4, dopey4dobby (er, excellent, that's…comforting? haha), MiToesesRTotallyRoses (no worries—can't win 'em all, right?), EchoNightFall22, SucksRoyalHippogriff, Tabbycat270, livibug, GriffinRose, fisforphenomenal (you're welcome!), 97chuckles (or something….yes ;)), MaryandMerlin (okay, okay, I'm on it!), Emotionsonhold, maximum destined potter (my dear, you can be the president), alicenotinwonderland, lollipopdiego, AliLuvsAlli-Sirius, WobblyJelly, starlight564 (yay, glad I could brighten your day—and that seems to be the theme this week for reviews….lots of people having crappy weeks, I guess), Vanillaberries, IIManzaII, Lucius Malloy, DobbyLivesAgain, RavenSoulSister, summersrain, viva gal, Tribot, wolftracks17, tardinsinthesgc (yum! I love chocolate chip cookies—thanks!), DarlingILoveYou, Dancethroughlife (2 chapters left probs), merlincrazy, Menolly Harper, ErinFabu, KellyNicoleSum, Hoperocks98 (You absolutely may marry my story! haha. I will officiate, and wish you many long and happy years together…), ISolemnlySwearIAmUpToNoGood (no, I never thought it would get so popular! Seriously, it blows my mind every day…I was honestly just hoping to beat out my other stories in number of reviews, and the most I had before this one was like 400 something!), Can't we just be death eaters (wait, wait—new name again? Girl, I can't handle this….no, but I really like this one!), MisszMarauder, Orange-Coyote, Marinewife08, M.M. MarauderStyle, Elless (yup, they be getting all up on each other in a soonish manner….wow, that was a WEIRD way to answer that question…), xxjenlovexx (no, probs no more Snape…yes, I am a terrible author for just dumping him….whoops), arelli-black (wow, that sucks! I'm sorry!), PoseidonsLittleGirl (you sense correctly….), angiedotdotla, silk399, xLycheeRAiN (you were beat out by like 3 minutes this week! But I will give you a prize anyway….though it's rather hard to think of something to give over the internet without sounding dirty….hmmm….oh, I know! See below for your prize ;)), and Annabec! Oh, and pinkcatheaven (sorry, you reviewed ch. 32, but DON'T WORRY, I got to the end of this list and was like, hmmm, where was that person who requested a reply so they could see comments next to their name….but here you are! Sorry 'bout the Americanisms, I try to avoid them, but often fail…and sadly there is no Google translate for American to British English—I checked ;) There, hope that satisfied your needs….okay, that sounded dirtier than I intended….er, right, moving on, then). Just so you know, that took up a WHOLE PAGE in Word…wow. And it makes an EPIC paragraph here, too!

You. Guys. I just bought a ticket to London this summer to visit my friend and—wait for it—GO TO THE DH PT.2 PREMIERE! Okay, sorry, just had to freak out for a minute.

Anyway, this chapter is dedicated to the lovely xLycheeRAiN, who has been the first reviewer for the past four chapters! Four for you xLycheeRAiN, you go xLycheeRAiN!

Previously: You know, general tomfoolery and such. Okay, no, sorry…I just feel like I'm bad at summaries anyway. Well, here's my actual effort: Lily goes off on James b/c of Audrey, but he doesn't really get it, the dolt, so Sirius provides therapy in the form of alcohol, which only leads to disaster and hilarity. Anyway, Lily complains to Mary of her plights for a bit, tries and fails to go to sleep, and finally ends the night talking with James, where she misses the perfect opening to confess everything and gets a (metaphorical) sucker punch to the stomach when he implies that it was a mistake to try and kiss her.

Chapter 33: Can't Get You off My Mind

The following day was more of the same, at least with regards to my inner turmoil, though there was considerably less using-alcohol-to-deal-with-my-problems stuff. Which, you know, was probably good where my health was concerned—not to say I couldn't have used it, unfortunately.

"Did you talk to him yet?" were the first words out of Mary's mouth when I met her in the common room the next morning to go down to breakfast.

"And a good morning to you too," I returned pointedly.

Mary waved me off impatiently. "Yes, yes, and all that. So?"

I sighed. "You know, this is causing me considerable emotional distress; you could at least attempt to ask me about it in a more delicate fashion. Instead of sounding like Marlene begging for the latest piece of gossip."

"Ouch, Lil—bit harsh, don't you think?"

"Emotional distress, Mary."

"All right, I'm sorry. It's just—"

"Just what?"

My friend bit her lip. "I mean . . . well, you don't exactly . . . seem distressed about it."

I threw her a look. "I cried myself to sleep last night—that clear things up for you?"

Mary expression immediately became stricken, and I felt a little guilty about my sharp reply. But only a little. "Oh, Lily, I didn't—I mean, yes, last night you were obviously bothered, but really, who wouldn't be, but if I'd known you were—I never would have said—I'm so, so sorry!"

I couldn't help laughing a little at her rambling and hurried apology, and Mary visibly relaxed at my response. "It's fine, Mary—really. But honestly, what part of 'fancy the pants off' didn't you get?"

"No, I know. I should have been more sensitive, but . . . I mean, it is about time, after all." She said this last part with a sheepish sort of grin.

"Aha! I knew you couldn't hold it in for long." Then her words truly registered, and I frowned. "Hang on, how long have you been waiting for this, exactly? Please tell me it's not since you got all hyped up about the letters over Christmas last year."

"No, not since then. Well, not really . . . I mean, at that specific moment, yes, but then things started with A.J. fairly quickly after that—which I absolutely supported, by the way; I don't want you to think I've been a completely crap friend."

"I would never think that," I assured her. "Not completely, anyway," I added with a grin.

"Fantastic," Mary said dryly. "But as I was saying, after A.J. . . . well, it wasn't until . . . more recently, that I started to think you . . ." she trailed of with a shrug, looking sheepish again.

I just stared at her. "How is it possible you knew before I did? Oh, that's right—because I'm astoundingly clueless, that's how," I finished bitterly.

"Lily," Mary started sympathetically.

But I cut her off, suddenly realizing something. "Merlin, you even tried to warn me, didn't you? With all that 'be careful' rubbish—or, I thought it was rubbish at the time, anyway—but you were right . . . I've made an absolute mess of everything."

Mary seemed to be struggling with herself, as though debating whether she should say . . . whatever it was that she so clearly wanted to.

I raised an eyebrow at her. "Might as well just get it out, dear," I said sardonically.

"You have to talk to James," she burst out. "And I know I already said that—"

"Mary," I tried to interject.

"—but you do, Lily, you just . . . have to!"

"I know, but—"

"And this might be pushy, and maybe it means I am a bad friend, much as I just tried to argue otherwise, but you're not going to—"

"Mary!" I said loudly, finally capturing her attention. "I know I have to talk to James, but . . . I can't."

She shot me an exasperated look. "Lily—"

"No, this isn't just my normal running-away-from-everything-because-that's-apparently-how-I-deal-with-my-problems thing . . . I—I just can't talk to him about this. Believe me, I tried last night." And I told her about our conversation, how I couldn't seem to stop spouting lie after lie.

Mary looked at me seriously when I'd finished. "Look, Lily, if you really want to work this out, you can't just give up."

"I know," I said. "I don't want to, either—Merlin knows I've hardly tried in the first place—but . . . it's too late, Mary. I mean, if James ever felt anything for me—" I ignored my friend's disbelieving scoff—"it's gone now."

"Oh, come on, Lily—"

"Mary," I said firmly, starting to get a little frustrated, "he called nearly kissing me a mistake."

"He didn't actually say that—"

"Stop it! Just . . . I'm having enough trouble with all of it without you trying to convince me I might be looking at it all wrong."

"But what if you are?"

"But I'm not." When Mary opened her mouth to protest again, I cut her off with a shake of my head. "Look, he might not have directly called it a mistake, but he did say he shouldn't have done it. And all he did when I told him I broke up with A.J. was act sympathetic about it. If he really wanted to . . . I mean, it's James; he doesn't exactly hesitate to say everything that pops into his head."

Mary still looked like she wanted to argue, but thankfully she recognized that I wanted the subject dropped. "I suppose you could always just ask him for a quick shag and see what happens," she said eventually, glancing at me sideways with a sly grin.

That surprised a laugh out of me. "Now that is—"

"Excellent, I love a good shagging story." I turned to see Sirius behind us, grinning wickedly. "Anyone in particular in mind, Evans?"

I tried to remain calm, telling myself there was no way he could have overheard the other part of our conversation. "Well, certainly not you, for starters," I retorted.

"Oh, of course not," he agreed seriously. "I wouldn't be a good shag, anyway." I frowned at his apparent humility, until he ruined it by grinning again and adding, "I'd be a great one."

Mary snorted beside me. "Honestly, Sirius," she muttered.

"I am being perfectly honest, Macdonald."

"It is far too early for you and your vulgarity, Black," I said.

"So, you're saying you'd be open to it later, then?"

I didn't even dignify that with an answer as we slid onto the benches at Gryffindor table, joining Remus and Peter, who'd obviously been there a while judging by their nearly empty plates.

Jumping in before Sirius could continue our conversation, I asked Remus, "How'd things go with Carin yesterday?"

Both Peter and Sirius looked up expectantly at this. "Yes, do share, Moony," Sirius said, "since someone failed to produce an adequate report." He glared at Peter, who looked back defiantly.

"I told you, I got caught behind a group of third years in Honeydukes, and by the time I'd—"

"I knew we should have worked harder to put Hogsmeade on the Map," Sirius interrupted. "Though I would have thought you could have managed this one simple job, Wormtail."

Peter opened his mouth to retort indignantly, but Remus cut in before he could do so. "Or maybe you could have considered the fact that you're immature prats for thinking I'd let you spy on us—honestly, Padfoot, I thought—"

"Oh, like you weren't on board about it when we tailed Prongs and Lindsay Vaughn in third year—"

"Exactly—that was third year, Sirius—"

"Merlin, will you lot shut up?" I interjected loudly. The three Marauders looked at me in surprise, as though they'd forgotten Mary and I were there. "I'd rather if my ears remained unassaulted until at least ten, thanks," I added, stabbing forcefully at my sausage.

"You weren't kidding, were you?" Peter muttered to Sirius, causing me to glance between the pair of them suspiciously.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I demanded, but Peter just shrugged, eyes shifting uneasily.

When I rounded on Sirius, he merely grinned and said casually, "Perhaps a drink would calm you down, eh Evans?"

From this I gathered that he'd shared much of the details of yesterday with Remus and Peter—of bloody course; the lot of them tell each other everything, like a bunch of gossipy teenage girls—but before I could accuse Sirius of as much, Mary spoke up.

"Oh, leave her alone, would you? She's emotionally distraught."

I whipped around to glare at my best friend, who only flashed a brief, smug smile at me. While the others (hopefully) couldn't guess my distress was associated with James, and would instead assume it stemmed from my recent split with A.J., I knew Mary's comment was an intentional push of her earlier argument that I talk to James.

When I turned away from her, I found Peter looking a bit baffled, Remus glancing away guiltily, and Sirius grinning at his plate. After glaring fiercely at the latter, I repeated my original query to Remus. "Anyway, Hogsmeade—how was your day?"

"Better than yours, for sure," Remus said, then immediately winced. "Sorry, that was insensitive."

"No, that's all right—hard for it not to rub off, hanging around this lot, I'm sure," I said, waving my hand at Sirius and Peter and gesturing vaguely at the Entrance Hall to include James as well.

As I glanced over my shoulder in doing so, I saw that James was in fact strolling towards the Great Hall at that moment. Quickly turning around again, I searched frantically for an excuse to leave the table, not ready to face him yet.

"Yes, how cruel of you, Moony," Sirius was saying. "Can't you see the poor girl's distressed?"

Ironically, I owe you one for that, Sirius. Letting out an over-exaggerated sigh, I said, "Right, I'm through with breakfast. You all can find someone else to terrorize."

As I made to stand, Sirius grabbed my arm. "Don't be like that, Lily," he pleaded, though he was smirking all the same. "You know we have nothing but the deepest affection for you."

Rolling my eyes, I pulled my arm free from his grasp. "Nice try, Black."

"You're all pricks," I heard Mary say as I walked away, and I smiled slightly to myself. I debated whether I could make it past James without having to acknowledge him, but quickly threw that idea out—it'd be far too obvious that I was deliberately avoiding him. As it was, James nearly gave me a heart attack with his comment on passing me.

"Not running away from me, are you Evans?" he asked teasingly.

Scanning his face for any hint that he knew more than he should while simultaneously hoping I didn't look guilty, I answered, "No—I haven't touched my homework this weekend, though, so I'm barricading myself in my room until I get it done." At least the second part is true, I thought ruefully.

James nodded, seeming to accept this as a believable excuse. "Well, if you need a break, I'm sure I could use some company in detention this afternoon, Flower," he said with a wink, before continuing on towards Gryffindor table.

Trying not to concentrate too much on the way my heart was pounding or the slight tremble in my hands, I deliberately started through a list of the work I had to complete that afternoon. By the time I reached the seventh floor corridor where the Fat Lady's portrait hung, I had a study schedule worked out, knowing that throwing myself into homework was my best chance at blocking out the thoughts I didn't want to deal with.

I was so focused on this plan that I wasn't paying attention as I climbed through the portrait hole, with the result that I crashed headlong into someone who was trying to exit. "Oh, sor—" I started, before the identity of my collision partner froze my voice.

A.J.'s expression flitted quickly through several emotions—surprise, anger, regret, apprehension—before finally settling on a carefully controlled indifference. I wondered briefly whether he'd been attempting to avoid me today as I was doing with James. Probably.

We just stared at each other for several moments, before A.J. finally said, "Hey."

"Er, hi," I replied, feeling my face start to redden. "Going down to breakfast, then?" I winced—was I honestly trying to make small talk with him? He was probably trying to work out the quickest way to get away from me, and if I had any decency at all, I should be helping him along with it, not detaining him with inane questions.

"Yes," A.J. answered succinctly, but made no move to continue past me, though we'd reached a perfectly acceptable parting point.

"Right, well . . . good," I said, now wishing he would just leave, because I was bound to say something incredibly stupid if he let me carry on. But he appeared to be waiting for something, so I just kept talking. "So, are you—" I stopped again, wondering what could possibly have possessed me to ask him whether he was all right. "I mean, do you . . . sorry for running into you just now," I blurted out, figuring that was a neutral and safe topic, if still of the small talk variety. "I wasn't looking where I was going. I mean, obviously—I wouldn't do something like that on purpose—but I was planning what homework would be the least torturous to start on, so I was a bit preoccupied, and then I was trying to remember everything I had to do this weekend so I could make that decision . . . and you can feel free to interrupt me at any time, before I make a complete dolt of myself. Unless that was your original intent, in which case, well done." It had belatedly occurred to me that perhaps A.J. was getting some sort of sadistic pleasure out of watching me squirm and fumble through our first post-break up encounter. Not that that was something he'd do, though I wouldn't begrudge him the prerogative to consider it.

"Of course it wasn't," A.J. said quietly. "To be perfectly honest, I had no intention of seeing you at all today. Or this week, if possible."

Even though I'd just admitted he had every right to act . . . less than friendly towards me, his words still stung. "Right," I said softly, and A.J. finally took his cue to turn away. Something pushed me to call out after him, and I was surprised when he actually looked around, rather than pretending he hadn't heard me. "I—I'm sorry. About everything." When A.J. opened his mouth, I shook my head to forestall him. "I know, you said you didn't want me to apologize. But I . . . I don't want things to . . . that is, I hope we can . . ." I didn't know how to convey what I wanted to say without sounding incredibly daft.

But A.J. caught onto it anyway. "Can still be friends?" he finished with a wry smile. "Maybe." And with that, he finally did walk away without looking back.

Maybe—more than I was expecting, actually. But it made me feel the slightest bit better about the past couple of days, because cliché as it was, I really did want to remain friends with A.J. I still liked him as a person, even though I couldn't date him. I can live with 'maybe' for now, I decided as I closed the door to my Head dormitory minutes later. One step at a time.

OOOOOOOO

I quickly discovered that the quietness of my room allowed for far too much thinking, homework distractions notwithstanding. I'd barely written three sentences of my Charms essay, but I'd thought about James (unwillingly) at least ten times that number. Mary was right—I was going to go insane if I didn't talk to him, but the thought of it filled me with a fear that I was sure would be strong enough to keep me from doing so. Nevertheless, the last words he'd spoken to me were on replay in my head: If you need a break, I'm sure I could use some company in detention this afternoon, Flower. It wouldn't be hard to find him—I knew I could convince Sirius, Remus or Peter to let me borrow the Marauder's Map, though I might have a time of it convincing them to do it without my giving a concrete reason. Of course, I could probably just track down McGonagall as well, pretending I needed to speak to James about Head stuff. After all, that was apparently why James was in detention today instead of yesterday. And once I'd begun seriously considering acting on the idea, my imagination went into overdrive, though it somehow strayed far from any plans to actually talk with James. Instead, I found myself wondering what would happen if I marched straight into whatever room McGonagall had locked him up in, slammed the door, pushed James up against it, and—

That's where I would forcefully turn my mind back to homework; it would obey for a while, but then the cycle would start all over again. Finally, I abandoned my room in favor of the much livelier common room, the background noise proving effective against any unwelcome thoughts. After my location change, I was surprisingly productive. Despite the fact that I couldn't help glancing up almost constantly in anticipation of James's return, I still managed to finish my Transfiguration essay, work through the ten Arithmancy problems Epsilon had assigned, and make a good start on the Potions questions Slughorn had given us before he appeared. Pretending I wasn't acutely aware of his presence the minute he stepped through the portrait hole, I kept writing, though I was sure I'd have to cross it all out later, since it would likely make no sense. It didn't really matter, anyway, because I only had time for a few sentences before James threw himself down on the couch beside me without invitation. Not that he had reason to believe he needed one, of course.

"Merlin, I wish you had broken me out of there, Flower," he muttered, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the couch. "Cleaning cauldrons for Slughorn—nearly bored me to death."

I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat, still acting as though I was intent on my homework.

James sat up, and I could see him looking at me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't turn to face him. "Well, you did say it was an unfairly bestowed detention in the first place, after all." When I merely shrugged in response, James leaned forward slightly in an attempt to catch my eye. "Lily? Are you listening to me?"

Finally looking up, I said with a little sigh, "Yes, it'd be rather hard not to at this proximity, James. But as you've evidently failed to notice, I'm a bit busy at the moment."

"Why aren't you in the library? Or upstairs?"

Because I keep having inappropriate fantasies about you, I thought, willing myself not to blush as my mind conjured up the same images I'd come down here to avoid. Aloud, I opted for the half-truth of, "Couldn't concentrate."

"But I thought you hated working in the common room," James pressed.

"Well, that's obviously not the case at the moment, is it?"

James frowned, then looked away from me again, leaning over the couch to grab the bookbag I hadn't seen him carry in. "All right, then—I was just curious," he began irritably. "Sorry to inconvenience you with my—"

I sighed again. "Stop it, James."

"Stop what?" he asked defensively.

"Acting all martyred, just because I happened to snap at you a little." I knew I was being horrible, but anger was always the easier emotion to deal with. "It's not like it's a rare occurrence."

"Merlin," James muttered. "This break up has really done you in, hasn't it?"

"This isn't about that," I said without thinking. Immediately, I wished I could take the words back, and I looked quickly at James to gauge his reaction. To me, I'd as good as confessed I fancied him, but luckily—or perhaps unluckily, from the way he was glaring at me—James didn't look suspicious in the least.

"Oh, so it's just about me, then, is it? Excellent," he said sarcastically.

I didn't answer right away, knowing this was my chance to tell him everything . . . but I couldn't do it, not with him looking so angry. Though my confession might turn that around, part of my mind whispered, a part that was abruptly silenced by my conviction of James's indifference on the matter. "No," I lied finally, "though after that comment about the break up 'doing me in,' I'm tempted to change that. It wouldn't kill you to try for a little sensitivity, would it?"

"It might," James replied, and when I shot him a look, he sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. "All right, fine—why don't you just tell me what you want me to say, Lily, because apparently everything I come up with is wrong."

I sighed. "Nothing—I don't want you to say anything. And I didn't mean to snap at you before, I was just—" Sighing again, I finished, "Look, could you just . . . sit there quietly, and do your homework?"

Unexpectedly, James grinned at this. Throwing me a mocking salute, he grabbed his bag once more and started pulling books and parchment from it.

A reluctant smile tugged at my lips as I turned back to Potions.

"Well, you didn't order me to leave, at least, so I'm taking that as a good sign," James commented a moment later.

"Potter, I believe I remember telling you to be quiet," I said, but with much less severity than before.

"Right, sorry," he said, though I could hear the smile in his voice. The second round of silence only lasted a few minutes, however, before James spoke again. "I suppose I should have been a little more considerate—Mary did mention something about emotional distress."

I glanced up to find James smirking at me. "Again, amusement probably isn't the most intelligent reaction on your part, but I'll let it slide this time," I said dryly. "And I'm going to kill Mary," I grumbled as I resumed my writing.

James laughed, and we continued working in companionable silence. It was significantly longer this time before James started hesitantly, "If you . . . er, want to talk about . . . you know, anything—"

I snorted. "You don't want to talk about A.J. with me."

"Well, no," James admitted, grinning again. "But I could make an exception, if I had to. Since it's you."

I looked at him sharply, but of course there was nothing in his expression to suggest he'd meant anything significant by those words. I shouldn't have been expecting anything, because that only made it worse when I didn't find it. "No, I won't torture you with that," I said eventually.

"Kind of you, Evans."

"I do my best." Suddenly remembering something, I added, "Oh, here—before I forget." I reached for the pile of books on the table in front of me, extracting James's Transfiguration book from the stack and handing it to him.

"Oh, right—thanks," he said, and I willed myself not to look away as the exchange unwillingly brought back memories of two nights ago . . . Merlin, has it really only been that long?

As I held his gaze, James's expression hardened slightly, before smoothing into a casual indifference. Momentarily thrown by the abrupt change, I broke eye contact, searching for something to say. "You know, wouldn't want to subject you to McGonagall's wrath and all that."

"Right," James repeated. Then, "Lily?" My head came up again at his serious tone. "I really don't want to do this essay."

That brought a surprised laugh to my lips. "Well, if you're thinking you can convince me to let you copy mine, I'll have you know that I don't condone cheating."

"Do you really think I could have gone through six and a half years of school with you and not know that?"

"No, but that wouldn't necessarily stop you from asking anyway."

"Well, you can't blame a bloke for trying, can you?"

"One could make the argument that I didn't give you the chance to try."

"You never really have, Flower," James teased.

I couldn't find an answer to that, not least because his words had once again unwittingly caused a stab of regret.

Some of it must have showed in my expression nonetheless, because James quickly backtracked. "I didn't—that wasn't a—I'll just go back to working in silence, shall I?"

I smiled, and James looked relieved. "Yes, that would probably be best."

OOOOOOOO

Normally, I would have been extremely thankful that James and I had fallen back into our normal friendship routine so easily, with only the barest hints of awkwardness over The Incident. And if things hadn't recently changed so drastically where my feelings towards James were concerned, this might have held true. But the problem was, I didn't want to be just friends anymore. After that afternoon in the common room, though, I couldn't help despairing that I'd let the opportunity to change that pass me by. The longer I put it off, the more out of the blue it would seem when (if) I eventually brought it up. Deep down, of course, I knew this was no excuse, but my cowardly side continued to win out as the weeks passed.

Nevertheless, and though it risked confronting the masochism issue again, I couldn't help being a little impressed with myself for how well I was able to hide everything when I was around James. With us thrown together almost constantly—between classes, Head duties, and rounds six nights a week—it should have been unbearably tortuous. Which in some ways, it was, but I managed to keep it contained enough that it went unnoticed by everyone except Mary. Even she might have missed it too, if it weren't for the fact that she was my oldest friend, and therefore knew exactly how I was feeling without needing any input on my end. Not that I didn't provide it absurdly often anyway—I had to vent somehow, and she was the only one I trusted to be on the receiving end.

When the next full moon rolled around, I welcomed the extra night away from James. Of course, if I'd known how it would end, I'd have gladly endured two hours alone with him.

As I started off on my own promptly at eight, I couldn't believe it had been a whole month since the beginning of everything. Really, it had begun before James even entered the scene that night, when I'd invited A.J. along on rounds with me, and we'd fought about not fighting. I smiled wryly at the memory. I hadn't seen much of my ex-boyfriend since our awkward initial post-break up encounter, but since we were in different years, it wasn't necessarily because we'd been avoiding each other. I, for one, hadn't had enough free space in my mind to concentrate on something as complicated as dodging him. I was much more willing to bet that A.J. did, though. I knew I owed him the right to keep his distance, if that's what he wanted, but I hadn't changed my mind about staying friends. I took it as a good sign that he still greeted me in passing; hopefully, things would slowly improve from there.

After I'd exhausted the subject of A.J., I spent the remainder of rounds trying not to think, an oblivion I could certainly use. However, not thinking is a nearly impossible feat, and I found myself alternating between thinking of James and forcing myself not to for the next hour. Ultimately, my efforts were doomed to failure, because it so happened that just as I was doing a final sweep of the Entrance Hall, the very subject of my tortured thoughts appeared at the front doors. It wasn't at a full sprint, as he'd done a month ago when McGonagall caught him out after hours. In fact, he wasn't even upright. Instead Sirius and Peter were carrying him, unconscious and bleeding, across the flagstone floor.

A/N: Well, I did warn you.