Helloo!! I know i've been terrible at updating. But oh, well.

Anyways, I've written the next two chapters already, and I was going to post 12 and 13 together as one chapter, but it was too long. I think this is very long by itself, too. But I had to put it altogether. See, though I don't update in a while, when I do...it's looong.

Have fun and don't forget to leave a review!!

.x.x.x.

Oh god, no.

I can't be here.

I'm going to close my eyes, and open them, and James will not be in front of me. That's right. Alright, closing.

Ok, he's still here.

Fine, I'll pinch myself.

Now, pinch. OW.

…

I cannot be stuck under the mistletoe with James Potter.

How did I get here? Let's recap.

.x.x.x.

"Lily?"

"Mrghhph."

"Lilllly?"

"Mgrhhhggh."

"LILY!"

My bed is so warm. I refuse to leave the bed. I want to fuse with the bed. Just become one. Just a bed-woman my entire life. Live under the covers and have servants bring up food and water. And get fat and live alone forever.

"Wake up!"

Maybe if I get so fat to the point where I can't walk much less get off my bed, Potter will stop stalking me. I think it's worth a shot. The second I'm able to talk again I'll tell Mina about my 'getting fat' plan.

Potter'll leave me alone.

I know he's scared of morbidly obese people.

Hah. I am a genius.

"LIII-LIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

Or maybe, I could even design a complex machine in order to hex myself so that I can be bed-ridden my entire life.

"OI, YOU MORON!"

Oh, wait. I see a flaw in that logic. Knowing Potter, he'll probably hex himself with the machine so that he can lie next to me for all eternity.

I would find that utterly charming, gallant, and self-sacrificing, if it were someone other than Potter.

James – bloody – Potter. Potter. He's like….like the little scratch on the roof of my mouth that would heal if only I could stop tonguing it.

Eurgh.

That sounds gross.

"I'm going to leave you here if you don't wake up!"

He'd probably grope me in his sleep or something.

Then again, if I'm bed-ridden, and fat, I can roll over and kill him. With my sheer weight. Hm. Being fat sounds like a great weapon. I need to give this plan more thought.

"Lily, wake the hell up! It's Christmas!"

Who gives a bloody damn. I don't. I can't even bother to open my eyes.

The fact that I can't even bother to open my eyes just goes to show how much I don't care.

Christmas is just an excuse to give people stupid presents and act like you care. Can you sense that I'm slightly bitter about spending Christmas in the school and not at home like I usually do?

I'm not bitter.

Pah. Like I'd like to go to Petunia's wedding.

I bet everything is going to be nauseatingly pink.

I hope she drowns in her bloody ice sculptures or something.

Eugh.

"Fine, be a lazy pig. I'm going down to have breakfast."

Dandy. Goodbye, now. I need solitude to think about my 'getting-fat-and-killing-Potter' plan.

"Are we doing anything today?"

Crap.

In a struggle to untangle myself from my covers, I end up with my comforter around my neck and close to asphyxiating myself. I try to cry out her name, but I end up wheezing. She leaves the room without an answer or recognizing the fact that her friend is about to strangle herself.

Double crap.

.x.x.x.

'Course then I spent half an hour struggling to untangle myself from my murderous bed sheets.

The next half an hour, I spent to find the courage in myself to tell Mina that I've set her up on a date with the boy she hates so much she hopes his genitals would spontaneously fall off.

I couldn't.

I then proceeded up to the common room after she had left, and mustered up some of that good ol' courage.

I think it may have had something to do with the twelve cups of coffee I had for breakfast.

The house-elves sneered at me when I asked for coffee. Those mutated goblins.

…It's the coffee. I'm usually not this irritable.

I didn't notice, in my caffeine induced blindness, that I walked straight under the cleverly placed mistletoes in the common room. Naturally, Potter didn't miss the chance to jump my bones. And now I'm stuck under this godforsaken plant with this godforsaken boy.

When the hell did we enter December, anyway? Seasons are so infuriating. One day I sit outside in the nice winter sun, the next, Hogwarts is up to snow to its windows. Honestly. A little heads-up would have been nice.

The lake is frozen solid, and I'm having the inkling feeling that the snow balls that were bewitched to follow and poke the teachers silly have something to do with Potter and his gang. The castle had a field day with it, actually. We roared in laughter for quite some time when the snowballs zoomed around after Slughorn, as he ran away as fast as his tiny legs could carry him. He was out of breath in less than five seconds. To be fair, having more chins than the average human probably hindered his running capabilities.

Then they sent about three hundred after Severus, laughing openly as he slipped and sploshed through the snow to avoid them. He blocked them all in the end, though, he's rather gifted with random spells like that. In fact, I was quite certain he invented a few on his own a couple years back. He never really shared it with me, though.

And I'd actually stick up for him if he hadn't been so incredibly selfish and cruel to me the past few weeks. So, as far as I'm concerned, he can get beaten to death with those snowballs, and I wouldn't move a muscle.

Hmph.

'Course it all got less funny when McGonagall went ballistic, marched out of the castle, and scorched the snowballs without so much as raising her wand. We all scattered like ants to avoid her wrath.

Not that Dumbledore would ever punish the golden foursome, of course. It was openly their doing, I'm quite sure he knew. Really, I sometimes think the old crook likes people poking fun at him.

Maybe he's gone senile, I don't know.

But Potter and his mates have done quite enough 'round this school, and they'd have been expelled for it, if Dumbledore didn't have a soft spot for them.

And I'm quite sure I have no clue why I'm thinking about these things when one of the golden boys' is standing in front of me, looking very pleased with himself, under the temporary delusion that I'd actually let my lips touch his again.

Anyway, Christmas is just so unfair. It just flies at you from behind some random corner like a rabid dog.

A rabid dog with red and green teeth. And presents. And carols. And BLEEDING MISTLETOE!

I can't kiss him again. There is no way.

No way.

Pfft. Like I wanted Christmas break to come along. AGH!

Damage control, brain. Damage control.

Alright.

I'm going to walk away. That's right. Look at me all you want you twerp, I'm just going to walk away from your marvelous lips that look so kissable – what are you talking about, they aren't kissable – I think I've gone mad –

Yes. Walking now. Walking. Walkiiing away.

Feet, move. We talked about moving before, did we not? Yes, we did. So, I said, you'll move when I tell you to.

…

YOU'RE ATTACHED TO MY GODDAMN BODY! WHEN I SAY MOVE, YOU MOVE!

Or, you don't.

Jesus.

I'm hearing wolf-whistling. Or is that the sound you head makes when you've gone completely raving bonkers? Like an alert signal it gives you right before it combusts or implodes or explodes…or something.

"Kiss the girl!"

Then again, maybe not.

"Lily?" He smiles and that annoying way he does and walks towards me.

My head is spinning off its axis. It's go bloody hot in here I can't think. Potter's face is swimming in front of me, his lips looking proportionally giant and cartoonishly distorted.

There is only so much I can take.

I think I might cry.

Ladies and Gentlemen, if you would all take out books and ignore me and pretend to be reading while I leak tears of frustration, that would be just swell.

Hm. If I cried, would that make him uncomfortable enough to leave me alone? "You've done it before…"

Oh, he's evil.

That's just a downright mean thing to throw in my face. It's not my bleeding fault the werewolf had the sudden inspiration to give me chocolate full of evil, dark, dark, magic!

As he smiles even wider, my stomach flutters and does that annoying flip-flop thingy.

Of course it's only because I want to hurl.

"James," I say slowly. "I'm not going to kiss you again." Yes you are. No, I'm not. Yeeees, you are. This is your conscience speaking. And I'm smarter than you. And you will kiss him.

My conscience should bugger off. I have no immediate need for it at the moment.

He's smiling and looking at me over his glasses. Oh god no. No, no, no, no, no, no, noooooo… "Lily, it's just a kiss.."

Oho. It may be just a kiss to you mister, but to me, it's handing over all of my feminism and independence and being your complete love slave – now that doesn't sound so bad –

ARGH!

Help me.

"BAH!" I scream, and he jumps back, scared. Lily, you've scared him away! Huzaah!

…now complete your sentence. Or you'll just sound like a crazed loony.

"I…I…I left the pot…um…I have to…water…my bed…"

He's looking at me like I'm insane.

I'm rather inclined to agree with him.

I think I must have my head checked.

He's distracted by your insanity! RUN!

Run, run, run.

Pant, pant, pant.

Run, run, run.

Up the stairs, past the 1st years, do not stomp on them, that's bad, now into your room, AHA! SAFETY! MY BED, WHO DOESN'T WANT TO SNOG ME! YAAAY!

Hey, I've just realized something. Why is it when I'm in a situation that has something to do with Potter and his lips, I end up running for dear life?

I mean, who puts up mistletoe in the bleeding common room? Those things aren't safe! They aren't toys! You can't just leave them around all willy-nilly!

Has Potter recruited the house-elves to plot fiendishly against me so that I would ultimately end up in very compromising situations involving his lips?

Am I being justifiably paranoid?

I practically break down the door to the dorm bathroom and barge in as Mina's brushing her teeth. Apparently she's back from breakfast.

"Good god," she whispers, looking at me with wide eyes, the tooth brush still in her mouth. She looks like she's got rabies. Ha. Ha. Hahaha. Rabies. Ha. Oh, god. I'm in hell. "The hell happened to you?"

"Misletoe," I mutter breathlessly, doubling over and clutching my stomach. Apparently I'm not that athletic. My body does not approve of exercise. "Potter."

She sighs. "Ah. But, of course. How original." She spits out the toothpaste distastefully into the sink, and leans on one hip like she does when she's about to endow some wisdom upon my very primitive brain. "Look," she tells me slowly, gesticulating with her hand gently. "You don't like him, and he doesn't get the message, right?" I nod, albeit a little unsurely but she doesn't see my unsureness. "I could remove his legs, if you'd like. So he can't run after you."

She shrugs simply, as if the thought of removing someone's legs does not disturb her.

I'm getting scared.

"No, no!" I say hastily in an attempt to calm her down before she gallivants off to perform painful and crippling hexes on Potter.

Not that I care in the slightest possible way.

'Course I don't.

Her eyes are fixed on me, though she seems lost in her thoughts. "I could…hm…I could make him infertile, make him sprout warts, or grow hair out of his nostrils long enough to strangle him with it," she offers this time, tapping her chin. "Or as an early birthday present, I could make him look completely repulsive…come to think of it, I think I saw a spell that would remove his pe – though I think I'd rather save that for Black – "

"NO, NO!" I scream, covering my ears, deathly afraid of what she wants to remove this time. "NO TALKS OF REMOVING ANYTHING, FROM ANYONE!"

Is everyone in my life bananas, or what?

"Lily," she says, chuckling lightly, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "Sometimes, you just need to kill people." My eyes widen even more. She continues to laugh. "I was kidding," she says good-naturedly, turning around and leaning on the sink as I step back into the dorm room. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"I'm not jumpy," I state, throwing myself on top of the bed and dragging my quilt to cover my face. "I'm just terribly, terribly alert."

"I see." She sighs again and throws a towel over her shoulder, stepping out of the bathroom. She walks toward the mirror in our dorm and lets loose her hair. "You said you wanted to talk to me this morning?"

Crap.

I wonder if I can asphyxiate myself with a pillow.

.x.x.x.

"You're freakin' shitting me."

And this is him being supportive.

He shakes his hair out of his eyes and glares at me. "Prongs, you have got to be shitting me."

I sigh. And I sigh again. And sigh again. Until he starts looking at me like he thinks I'm being queer and should immediately stop whatever I am doing.

"I am not shitting you," I say clearly. I pause slightly as he keeps glaring at me through his hair that has fallen on his face.

He looks like a rabid dog.

I'm beginning to fear for my life.

I think I should plot all possible escape routes from the common room if I can get through this afternoon without being beaten to a bloody pulp.

You know, for future reference.

Not that I'm planning to tell him that I set him up with some other girl he hates anywhere in the future. Death by head removal is not in my plans.

Plus, I think being head-less on my part could put a damper me and Lily's relationship.

Then she'd leave me for some guy with an actual head.

And I will not have that happen.

"Prongs, you've got to be kidding me!" he yells this time, pleading. He's whining. This isn't boding well with his or my reputation. People are beginning to stare.

I give him an unconcerned smile. It's completely fake, don't let it fool you. "Come on Padfoot, it's only one day!"

"IT'S ONE DAY WITH THE BLOODY DEVIL!" he screams at me, his voice cracking and going up multiple octaves. I loosen my collar and rub the back of my neck nervously until people look away, then I inconspicuously wallop him upside the head. We're in a crowded common room. He should learn to control his volume.

He glares up at me. "You're an absolute idiot, Prongs."

"You just said I was brilliant!" I protest at his changeable attitude.

"That was before you told me I was involved in your stupid date!" Sirius exclaims, slamming his hand against the table in objection. "It's not even worth it! The girl hates your guts!"

"Honestly, James, what were you planning to do?" Remus, the ever fair one. He could probably defend Snivelly if he killed me with his greasy brains.

"Well," I say, a little shyly. "I was planning to…you know…take her out to Hogesmede…and you know…woo her."

Sirius scoffs with an air of pompous-ness (or is it pomposity?) around him. "You know what you should do, Prongs? Take her back to the 1800's when that phrase was last used."

I narrow my eyes and glare at his pathetic attempt at humour. "Oh," I suddenly recall. "By the way, can I borrow your tie, Padfoot? Wormtail spat on mine."

Peter slumps back in his chair and mutters something moodily about indigestion.

"Sure," Remus butts in excitedly before Sirius can reply. "Though you'll have to give it back to him when he gets a date with Taylor. 'Course by then, ties will be obsolete and we'll all be wearing silver jumpsuits."

Ha.

Ha, ha, ha.

"Moony," I mutter in awe. "You made a joke." He beams proudly. "And it was funny," I comment, still dumbstruck.

"Thank you, thank you," Remus says modestly. "I've – "

"You've practiced that the whole day in front of a mirror, haven't you, Moony?" Sirius questions with a sneer. Remus shrugs. Sirius turns to me, looking proud. "The answer is no, Prongs. No tie for you."

"Come on," I whine, clasping my hands together in prayer position. I'm even contemplating getting on my knees and doing a full on slimy begging thing, but I might decide against it to maintain my manliness. "Do me this one favour!"

"No!" he retaliates stubbornly, his eyes widening. "I'm sick of being everyone's butt-monkey! Sirius do this, do that, talk like this, gimme that, don't do that, don't eat that, don't hex him, don't punch her, blah, blah, blah, no! That's it! I'm done being a little man-bitch!" He pauses, eyeing me with pity. "Get off the floor, Prongs!"

I huff, and get up off my knees. "So you won't do it?"

"He doesn't want to be a man bitch," Peter says reasonably, looking up at Sirius like he thinks he's some kind of holy deity. That boy would tag along with Padfoot even if he jumped off the Astronomy Tower.

Honestly, the boy worries me.

Remus clarifies. "Meaning he doesn't want to go through with it neither the tie, nor the date. I'm not sure this is a good idea, anyway, James."

"It's the best idea, Moony!" I say surely, barking a confident laugh. "What happened? You were being funny about it a moment ago!"

"HOW IS THIS – " Sirius receives a harsh glare from Moony for his volume. Hah. In your face, dumb dog. He drops his voice. "How is this a good idea?!" He whisper/shouts at me. "How is putting me – " he points at his chest, "and HER –" he jabs a finger at the girls dormitory stairs, "in the same environment, a good idea?! I've already got one oppressive woman in my life and that's my dear mum! Ever wonder why I'm living with you?"

Yes, yes, I am quite aware that I have a Sirius Black sharing a bathroom with me during the summer holidays. I need no reminders.

"Well," I say uncertainly, scratching my head. "I just – "

"Do you want your best mate to die? Is that your problem?" Sirius questions rudely, widening his eyes. "Is that it? Are you in league with Taylor? You want her to kill me this time? Are you giving her extra hexes so that she can give me a giant ball of lard for a head or something??"

His eyes are shining with something that looks like tears.

It might be the tension from his excessive paranoia.

"Relax, Padfoot," I mutter, making calming motions with my hand. "I'm not trying to kill you."

"Pah!" Sirius scoffs loudly, turning his head away indignantly. "That's what they all say."

I look at him pleadingly. "Look, I'm sorry. It just seemed like a good idea at the time…"

"You mean when you weren't thinking about anything else but snogging your precious Lily?!" Sirius snarls with a grimace on his face. I fake a slightly offended expression but he ignores it and carries on. "Did you get hit in the face with a bludger last practice?" he inquires, his face inches from mine. This is really not appropriate in the sense of preserving our masculinity in the eye of the general public. "DID YOU?"

"No," I clarify, moving my face as far away from him as possible. Now I'm on top of Remus. Great. "I didn't."

"Then what gave you the impression that I'd like going on a bloody double date?!" He lowers his voice so that he spits the last part out like its something disgusting. "With bleeding Taylor! Honestly! That woman is insane! She'll murder me in cold blood and dump me behind a pub!" He slaps his head in disappointment.

"But Padfoot – "

Too late.

"Did you not see what that maniac did to me last time?" He asks shrilly. "She almost killed me, Prongs!"

"Oh pish posh, Padfoot," Moony mutters lazily. "Stop describing it like it was such a traumatic experience."

Sirius turns on Moony, his eyes livid and spouting fire. "YOU don't know! YOU weren't there!" He screams, waggling his finger at him accusingly. "YOU weren't on the receiving end of her bloody chair-flinging abilities! I thought I was going to have a bleeding stroke!" Remus puts his hands up in defense as Sirius spins around and looks at me. "Besides," He adds as an afterthought, "I don't date! Don't you know anything about me?"

I do, unfortunately.

I happen to know quite a bit about the enigmatic genetic mutation that is Sirius Black.

…on second thought, I don't even know what enigmatic means.

Must ask Moony later.

"Oh," I scoff. "Shut your gob, Padfoot."

He glares at me, shrieking offendedly. "I will not! My best mate is plotting to kill me – "

"Oh for the love of God, I'm not trying to kill – "

"He has a point, Prongs," Remus cuts in reasonably, shrugging. "He's never dated."

Sirius gives a stiff nod before turning around and scoffing slightly at the statement. "I resent that! I have dated! I just prefer not to anymore."

"Actually, I don't think he's ever dated." Peter notes conversationally only to be silenced by a glower from Sirius. He quickly disappears into his food and pretends to be a part of the cupcake he stole from the kitchens.

"I have dated," Sirius states through clenched teeth, ignoring Remus's curious quirk of the eyebrow.

"Give one legitimate example," Remus challenges. "One."

"Erm…" Sirius looks up. "Shelly Rigzby?"

Peter frowns, momentarily ungluing himself from his muffin and looking pensive. "That girl who gained twenty pounds and tried to kill you with a brick?"

"No, no, no, no," Sirius shakes his head as he scratches his temple. "That was Jenna. Or Joanna…Delilah?"

I roll my eyes. "Jenna's the screamer, Delilah was the prefect," I state dully.

"Oh," Sirius exhales. "Right. I meant Leila." He groans and slaps his forehead. "Damn it."

Remus retreats behind his book giving a triumphant grunt.

Sirius looks appalled and puffs out his chest indignantly. "This proves nothing! I dated! I don't anymore. I've had my share, and now I'm going global. Available at all times." He pauses. "Not tied down to a single woman." He pauses again, his face flooding with anger. "Now you've set me up! What will my admirers say?" He fakes a very sad face. "What happens if they come crying to me, begging me to end their misery! I'll have to oblige them!" He looks around, paranoid and suddenly frightened. "And then Taylor will kill me."

I narrow my eyes. "Padfoot, are you using the phrase 'end their misery' as a euphemism to snogging their faces'off random broom cupboards?"

He pulls a shocked face. "Course not! What a ghastly accusation!" He proceeds to poke my nose and walk around the room tutting to himself.

"Sirius," Remus mutters tiredly from behind his Charms book. "Why are you making this such a big deal?"

"What?" Sirius snaps, turning his head mid-pace.

Remus sighs. "How come this girl is causing you so much trouble?"

Sirius snorts. "Because she's bonkers?"

"That's not what I meant," Remus insists, rolling his eyes. "You've been going on about how you despise her and can't stand her and can't be in the same room with her…"

"And?"

"Well," Remus leans in slightly. "I'm beginning to think that you're not being completely honest. Because it's never taken you more than a week to get over a relationship – "

"It's never taken him more than a shower to get over a relationship," I comment, unable to stop myself. Then, I of course, dodge the pillow that materializes out of thin air and comes flying at me.

Chuckling a little, Remus continues, though still not completely diverting his attention from the Charms book settled cozily in his lap, " – You've been talking about her for the past month."

Sirius rolls his eyes. "What's your bleeding point, Moony? I don't need an encyclopedia extract."

Remus exhales, annoyed. "My point is, I think you like this girl."

"Oh, you're talking out of your arse, wolf-boy," Sirius mutters after a moment of reflective silence.

That moment of reflective silence is enough for everyone to make up their minds and come to a conclusion.

I want to jump up in the air and do a victory dance, chanting, Sirius loves a giiiiiiiiiiiirrrl, Sirius loves a giiiiiiiiiiiiiirl. But I won't.

"I think you really do," Remus mutters conversationally.

Oh, he's my hero.

I bloody love Remus.

Ahem.

I mean.

I admire him as a human being.

And appreciate – erm – value him as a friend.

But in no way feel any feelings that can be evaluated as non-masculine or…in any way…poofter…y.

I should rectify as soon as possible that my feelings for Remus are in no way poofter-y.

Onto more masculine topics.

"I vote you love her."

Crap.

"Shut up Peter before I throw you through a wall," Sirius murmurs dangerously to which Peter sticks a heavily brown and chocolate-y looking tongue out. 'Course he'd never do that if he were alone with Padfoot. He just trusts me to protect him from the doggy's fangs.

"You aren't denying it," Remus points out, waggling a finger up into the air.

Sirius scowls, eyeing Moony's finger with distaste. "Put that finger down, Moony."

"Hah," Remus whispers self-assuredly. "I knew you liked her."

"Ugh," Sirius grunts, plopping himself onto an armchair, looking very put out. "Quit being a smartarse."

"Objectively, I'd say I'm very intelligent but that has nothing to do with my arse."

Standard Moony reply.

He's a funny boy.

"Which means," I state loudly, "I WAS RIGHT AND I AM BRILLIANT!"

"You're out of your tree! I despise the girl!"

.x.x.x.

"So that's it."

"Oh?"

Oh? I stare at her. She then bursts out laughing and bangs her tiny fists against the table. I laugh weakly, but really don't see what's funny about our current situation. Mina's sudden bouts of having a sense of humour don't usually last long. Thank Merlin. She sobers up, and lets out a breath.

"You're laughing?" I inquire timidly, looking at her as though she could blow up any second. My eyes are searching the room for available hide-outs should she explode.

"Why shouldn't I?" She responds good-humouredly, wiping tears of laughter from her eye with her hand. "You were kidding, of course."

Crap.

At my slightly (I use that word liberally, I am absolutely dying of fright inside) worried expression, she looks at me quizzically, and I put my hands up in defeat. No use arguing with Mina when she suddenly loses her sense of humour. She'll shoot you down. And you'll sink. Like a lead balloon.

"I wasn't."

My instincts are practically screaming at me to duck and cover.

"No?"

They aren't screaming anymore. They think it's too late for me. They've evacuated my brain to save themselves. Henceforth, I am not responsible for any of my bad decisions.

I shake my head no.

Oh no, she's getting up. She's going to grab her wand and turn me into an artichoke –

Oh.

False alarm.

She's running around blocking her ears and humming the first couple of verses to a song by the Weird Sisters.

It's eleven-thirty on Christmas morning and I've been trying, and failing, for the past hour to persuade Mina to accompany me to Hogsmede today so that I don't completely flip out and murder James for enticing me to go. But, clearly, she's choosing to be a difficult berk.

She continues her stubborn march around the room, now positively shouting the lyrics to the song over my attempts to talk to her.

"Mina, would you just – "

"IT"S NOT JUST A SPELL," she belts out at the top of her lungs, her face red with the force of her singing, her eyes expanding with fright at the sound of my voice, "IT'S NOT A CHARM –"

Well, obviously I thought about not telling her about it, I'm not completely retarded. I was planning on not telling her until we had actually left the castle. I was going to lure her out with promises of icecream and girly talk.

This idea came to me after the twelve cups of coffee.

But the coffee-high died down, I decided I didn't want to die.

So, I decided against being murdered and left behind a dumpster around a random pub downtown. She would have torn my head off if we 'casually bumped into' Black and Potter in Three Broomsticks.

And thus, I get a songfest from her favorite band.

It's not even the fact that I have something to tell her, but honestly, these songs makes her sound like a dwarf on uppers. "Unicorns dancing in your eyes?" Oh, for crying out loud.

She slams her back against the wall and fixes me with a stern glare, her mouth still agape, singing.

Alright, it's time to bring out the reinforcements.

I conjure up a ball as big as her head and fling it across the room toward her. A slave to her excellent reflexes, he grabs it with both her hands, unplugging her ears in the process.

"YouhavetocomewithmetoHogsmede!" I blurt out before she realizes her blunder and re-covers her ears.

HA! Victory!!

Her face falling with the success of my excellent and absolutely ingenious ball-throwing plan, she frowns. "That was low." She declares scornfully, eyeing the ball as it rolls to the corner of the room. "So low."

"I know," I state, sympathetically nodding my head at her. "But you gave me no other choice."

"I will not go anywhere with that git," she rectifies with an air of finality.

I roll my eyes slightly though can't help grinning at my friend's feeble reply. "Technically speaking, you aren't going with him, you're –"

"Well we aren't technically speaking, are we?" she snaps back viciously. "I'm not changing my answer, Lily, there is no bleeding way I'll go!"

"But Mina – "

She growls, her eyes making into dangerous slits behind her dark loose fringe. "No buts! Don't you remember what he did to me? I'm not going!" I see her shaking; I'm not sure whether it's from nerves or general anger, but it does nothing to contribute to my attempts to reach an agreement.

I pout in a very convincing and what I'm told to be cute and charming manner. She asks me why I'm puckering up like a fish and I retract my lips and force them to a normal position. "Minaaa," I whine childishly, flapping my arms at my sides, "If you don't come, I'll be all alone!"

She scoffs, high-pitched and angry, and settles on the corner of her bed. "Serves you right!"

I sniffle faux-emotionally at her crossed arms and stern face.

She looks away.

I sniffle again.

She begins fiddling with the embroidery on her comforter.

I sigh, whine, and sniffle.

"What?" she snaps, her head turning around sharply. Her eyes narrow at my very, very sad and very, very, believable face expression. "You can't make me pity you and emotionalize! It won't work!"

Oh, you fool. This just goes to show how little she knows of me, and my great acting capabilities.

I'm tempted to burst forth with an evil cackle, but I'll keep it inside for the sake of my plan.

I shrug, defeated. But I'm not defeated. See the brilliance of my plan?

"Fine," I mutter. Another sniffle. Another shrug. "I'll go by myself." Dramatic, emphasizing pause. "All alone."

Her brow furrows as she stares up calculatingly at my Hollywood-worthy acting brilliance. "Lily Evans," she begins, "You are a terrible actress."

I scoff, offended, my genius plan foiled and abandoned. "Am not!"

"Are too!"

"I…oh…you…sod off!" I screech in a high pitched voice. "You're – you're a terrible singer, Miss Taylor!"

One of her eyes is bulging. "I happen to be an excellent singer!"

"Hah!" I shout, sounding extremely skeptical, if I do say so myself. "You sounded like a heedless banshee!"

She laughs shrilly, throwing her head back. "At least I didn't agree to go on a date with bloody James Potter!" She challenges, springing off the bed and advancing towards me.

Oho.

That is hitting far, far, far below the belt.

I'm feeling the sudden urge to clarify the reason for the trip of doom. "For your information, I didn't agree to a date – "

"Oh you didn't?" She asks unbelievingly, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back.

"No," I insist. "I didn't!"

She raises her eyebrows challengingly, "So what is this Hogsmede business, then?"

I'm feeling my face go red.

Alright, Lily, think this through. Why did you say yes to that moronic twerp that's been chasing you half your life?

1) Because I was intoxicated by the fumes in the Potions classroom.

2) Because his hair looked so goddamn good that day.

3) Because his writing was girly and I pitied the poor queer-bug.

You aren't thinking this through, are you? Mina's going to kill you.

1) AHA! Because I, for purely selfish reasons, want her and Black to stop running around in circles.

Wait, if I tell her that she'll actually kill me.

To be fair, though I love her, very, very much, she's starting to be a rather drag to hang around with; constantly murmuring under her breath murderously and avoiding Black like the plague. I've had to throw myself into the girls bathroom on the second floor on three different occasions to hide from Black and his people. I'm getting rather sick of the smell in there, not to mention Myrtle yells for Peeves to pelt dungbombs at me whenever she sees me. He's always happy to oblige, and she hates me ever since I accidentally flushed her into the Black Lake last spring.

Damage control, brain. Damage control. Avert dangerous question. Change focus.

"Honestly, Mina, it's just one afternoon," I mutter hastily, changing gears at light speed. "It's really not that big of a deal."

Who the hell am I kidding? This is the biggest deal of the biggest bloody deals.

Pleaaase take the bait, pleaaaseee.

"Oh, you didn't think it was that big of a deal?" She repeats shrilly, staring at me. She whirls around and screams, to no one in particular, "She didn't think it would be that big of a deal!"

"Alright, who are you talking to when you do that?"

She glares.

Oho, she glares.

"Why am I in this bloody program?! If you want to date the jerk, just do it alone!" She growls. "Black and I don't have to be involved! I don't want to spend any more time with that bleeding moron then I have to during common classes!"

"Mina, it's not that bad, I mean – "

"Not that bad?" She screeches her face livid, her hair wild and crackling crazily. I always knew that mass was dangerous. "I hate him! In fact, you're making me go somewhere with a bloke I hate so much I wish he'd get eaten by Cornish pixies!"

I pause, my brain momentarily floods with images of carnivorous Cornish pixies taking large bites out of Sirius Black. It's not much better than the level of hatred I associated with the spontaneous falling-offs of genital bits.

Snapping out of my very imaginative and disgusting imaginative reverie, "It's done!" I say desperately, opening my hands wide in helplessness.

"WELL," She says stubbornly, hesitating, "UN-DO IT, THEN! TAKE IT BACK!"

Honestly, the things that come out of this girls mouth sometimes…

"Stop acting so blonde!" I yell, annoyed.

She scoffs, high pitched and angry as she clutches at her hair and shoves it in my face to prove that it is, indeed, black. "I'm not acting blonde!"

"It's one afternoon, Mina!" she opens her mouth to argue but I continue. "And besides, I thought you were over him."

Her face goes frigid.

I seem to have hit a nerve. Ha. Ha ha ha.

"OHO! I am so over him!" She pauses. "In fact, there is nothing to get over because nothing ever happened!"

I'm having conniving thoughts.

"Alright, then go to this thing to prove how much you're over the thing that never happened."

In a rage, she screams, "FINE! MAYBE I WILL!"

"Good, then!"

She pauses, her face flooding with the realization of what she just agreed to do. "You don't play fair, Miss Evans."

Heheheee….

.x.x.x.

There was a cameo by James! I thought it was slightly necessary, because I wanted to show the Marauder's reactions to the date, and I couldn't thinkg of a better way to do it. It just didn't work through Lily's point of view. Not sure if i'll have him make an appearance again, we'll see.

Anways, leave a review!!

Johnnydicaprio