Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine.

It's me, back with yet another story... Y'all have Epochs to thank for this one, though. This is, after all, dedicated to her and our mutual love for one James Potter.

I know! A fake-dating fic! Totally original! But I do hope you like it all the same.

Let's get to it, shall we?


Chapter One

A Favor for a Favor

When James Potter approached me in the library, sopping wet and reeking of sewage, I knew my life was never going to know peace again.

My night hadn't been going well to begin with. I was already behind on all my homework assignments, and we were barely a month into the term. I'd ditched dinner early to go to the library and at least try to get something done – reluctantly leaving my friends and our plans to listen to our favorite late-night talk show on the wireless, Visions with Vanessa – but that plan had backfired tremendously when I saw James walking toward me – or, rather, heard.

His shoes squeaked with every step, and when he took the seat across from mine at the table in the farthest corner, he plopped down with a wet slap that I made a face at.

Abandoning my essay for Transfiguration (which I'd only written out the title for in the last twenty minutes), I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms. "Rough day, James?"

He grinned at me – half-sheepish, half-gloating. "Hasn't been all bad, Cleo. I had a lovely breakfast this morning – porridge with cinnamon – and after that I took a nice stroll around the lake—"

"Where you promptly joined the giant squid for a relaxing swim?" I asked, gesturing to his drenched clothes and still-dripping hair.

He waved me off. "I'm getting there. I haven't even told you the best part of my day yet!"

I sighed and began to put away my parchment and quill as he described what he'd had for lunch in detail. Despite the lack of progress on my homework already, I had no hope of finishing it tonight now that James was here. The obnoxious seventeen-year-old boy talked for the sake of listening to his own voice, and even though I'd been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with him for the past five years, I'd yet to find a way to shut him up without resorting to violent measures.

"So then, after dinner, the lads and I decided that it was time to unveil our first prank of the year—"

"Wait." I held up a hand. "You mean you pulled a prank? That's why you're wet and reek to high Hell?" When he only grinned and pointed his fingers in a you got me there motion, I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. "James, aren't you Head Boy this year? I thought the pranks were supposed to stop?"

"I said most of them would stop," he said. "Like, the jinxes in the corridors? Hexing people at random? Dungbombs at the dinner table? Yeah, we're done with the little things. But, Cleo – we've always done big back-to-school pranks. We couldn't give up our tradition, could we?"

I sighed again, blowing a stray wisp of hair from my face that had escaped my braid. "You couldn't have done it when I was actually there, though?" I waved a hand around me. "I've been stuck in here for the past hour bored out of my bloody mind!"

He shrugged. "Your fault for skipping out on dinner early to be a stick in the mud."

"All right, fine. But what was the prank? Why are you wet?"

"We may or may not have snuck in a water cannon from Zonko's."

"And?"

"And we may or may not have given it to Peeves."

I groaned and pretended to bang my head on the table. "Why do I always miss out on everything fun?"

"Do you wanna hear what happened next, or do you wanna cry a little more?"

I sat up and flipped him off. He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, showering the table with more droplets of water.

"Well, apparently Peeves decided it would be funnier to fill the cannon with water from the toilets—"

"—I mean, you gave a poltergeist free rein, what did you think was gonna happen—"

"—But what wasn't funnier was when he took aim for a certain redhead I happen to be in love with—"

"—Of course you found some way to involve Lily, why am I not surprised—"

"—And so I, being the dashing and gallant hero that I am, threw myself in front of her and took the brunt of the attack." He mockingly bowed. "James Potter saves the day yet again. Hold your applause."

I leaned back in my seat. "So, how'd she take it?"

"Take what?"

"You saving her, or whatever you're calling it." I flapped a hand at him. "Let me guess: cold shoulder? A single biting remark before she stalked away? A Bat-Bogey?"

He scraped at something on the table with his fingernail, not making eye contact with me as he said, "Try yelling at me in front of the whole school for 'instigating such an immature and irresponsible attack' and 'tainting the reputation and name of Head Boy.'" He shook his head. "It's not my fault that Peeves went for her! He was supposed to only target the Slytherins! That was the agreement!"

He sat back, exasperated. I watched him fume for a moment, his jaw working, before I spoke up. "Well, what's the damage?"

"Detention with McGonagall for the rest of the week. I was already there, and I didn't deny my involvement when she asked. I wanted to take the fall for the others, too. Sirius is already on some thin ice with her after Filch found that firewhiskey in his trunk when we got off the train, Peter can't afford another detention or his mum will lose it, and this week is already bad enough for Remus with the—" He stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. "I just didn't want them to get in trouble. The prank was supposed to go off without a hitch, anyway. But that's what I get for trusting Peeves."

Many people wondered why I had put up with James Potter's antics for so many years. He could be loud, abrasive, arrogant, and just completely unpredictable. He even had a bit of a bullying streak a few years back, but that was before I'd ever even considered myself his friend. His friends – his only friends, despite being one of the most popular blokes at Hogwarts and the loads of acquaintances from that – were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. They were more than his friends – they were his brothers. And that fact alone was why I put up with him. The bloke had just put himself in detention for his friends. That fierce loyalty of his had always struck me, and it was one of the reasons why I'd tolerated him throughout the years.

"That blows, but it could be worse." I eyed him questioningly. "Why are you here? Obviously, you've got something important to spit out if you didn't even bother with a shower or change of clothes first."

"Oh, right. That." He tugged out his wand from the back pocket of his trousers and waved it, wordlessly. His clothes dried instantly, and the water vanished from his hair, though it still stuck out at every angle. He grinned at me, smug. "Better?"

"You still stink." His grin only widened. "Since when do you know non-verbal magic?"

"Since I'm in Seventh and you're still an ickle Sixth Year."

I rolled my eyes. "Wow. Head Boy, Quidditch Captain, and you know non-verbal magic? I can't believe no one worships you yet. You're just so amazing at everything!"

"I'm glad you understand." He sagged in his chair. "I just wish Evans would see it, too."

"Ugh. If you're going to moan about Lily, will you please do it in the opposite corner? I have homework to do."

He shot me an annoyed look. "You mean the homework you already put away? The one with only a title written?"

I sniffed. "My name's on it, too."

"Clee, we've talked about this. McGonagall said that if you pull the same shit last year and don't turn in your work on time and keep getting poor marks, then she's yanking you off the team."

"I know, I know." I sighed. "You don't need to lecture me. I already got the same speech from my parents forty times over the summer."

He nudged my knee under the table with his foot. "Then get on it. I can't lose the second-best Chaser on the team, can I?"

"Wait, second-best?" I wrinkled my nose. "Who the bloody hell is the first?"

"Me, obviously."

I snorted. "First Lily, now Quidditch? Will your delusions ever end?"

He kicked my shin. I swore. "Watch it, Capaldi. Or I'll make you do extra conditioning at practice."

I glared at him, rubbing my leg. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me." He grinned, but it quickly faded. "I just don't know what to do about Evans, Cleo."

I pointed to the opposite corner. "You're moping. Go."

He frowned. "But you always listen to my Lily troubles."

"Yeah, and that's the problem," I retorted. "Always."

He sighed. "Just hear me out? Please?" When I said nothing, he took that as a cue to continue. "It's my last year at Hogwarts. And while Lily doesn't necessarily hate me anymore, she still thinks I'm an immature prat and won't give me the time to show her otherwise."

I studied him closely. He looked so dejected, like a kicked puppy, that I just had to take pity on him. "You're really that into her, huh? 'She's the one' and everything?"

He nodded, his gaze lost out the window behind me. "Yeah. I just feel it, y'know? It's like – fate or something."

"Okay, don't get all sappy on me, or else I won't care anymore," I said, flapping my hand. "But she's Head Girl, right? So, you'll be spending a lot of time with her this year. Working together to make the rest of our lives miserable and all that."

"Very funny." He pinched the bridge of his nose, just under where his glasses rested. "I dunno, Clee. I dunno what she's thinking, or what she wants."

"Don't look at me." I raised my hands when he glared at me. "I don't know her."

"What's the point of you being my only mate that's a girl if you can't help me with my girl troubles?"

"If you based your only qualification for a 'girl mate' on me having boobs, then clearly you're the one who missed the point, mate."

He didn't answer, his gaze returning to the window. His fingers drummed on the table, and his lips quirked into the expression I recognized as his scheming face – meaning he was thinking through an awful idea.

"Stop what you're doing," I said. He looked back to me innocently – too innocently. "Whatever you're thinking, stop right there. I am not getting dragged into another one of your idiotic plans."

"Not even for a favor?"

I froze. His face turned downright devilish. He knew he had me.

Favors were what started my strange friendship with James Potter four years ago. When I first joined the Quidditch team, he used his age and rank to get me to do "favors" for him – watching the corridors while he and his friends set up their next prank, saving him the best treacle tart at dinner if he was stuck in detention, putting away his gear after practice so he could run off to cause more mayhem, and so on. Eventually, I demanded favors in return for doing all his dirty work – a favor for a favor. Miraculously, he'd agreed to my request, and for the last several years, we'd done tons of odd favors for each other. Our only rules: don't ask, and no backing out. It was a wonderfully symbiotic relationship – and he knew that, too.

He gestured to my book bag, where my pitiful excuse for an essay poked out.

"A favor for a favor," he said. "I'll help you with your homework if you agree to do me a favor in return."

I kept my face neutral. "What's your price?"

His nose crinkled. "Dunno. I haven't thought of it yet. But I'll get back to you when I decide."

"Just my Transfiguration homework?"

"Defense, too. Charms is pushing it. Anything else, nah."

"How long?"

He tilted his head. "How long for you to accept?"

I deliberated for a moment. "Until the winter holidays."

He whistled. "You drive a hard bargain, Capaldi."

"Do you want me to get booted off the team or not?"

"Shit. Fair point." He sighed. "Fine. I'll help you with your homework until the winter holidays, in exchange for a favor of my own, to be called in at a later time. Are we in agreement?"

I smirked. "I believe we are."

He spit into his palm and held it out to me. "You solemnly swear?"

"What is it with you and 'solemnly swear?'" I asked, rolling my eyes. "You say it every time we make a deal. Is it like your catchphrase or something?"

He grinned. "Something like that." He wiggled his fingers. "You gonna shake on it?"

"Fine, fine, whatever." I spit into my hand. "I solemnly swear."

We shook on it.

"Brilliant." He got to his feet and shoved his wand back into his pocket. "I'll be in touch."

"Oh, James? Before you go?" He turned and frowned when he saw my titled essay in my hand and a wicked smile on my face. "Our deal starts now."


Let me know what you think so far! I always appreciate hearing from my readers!

xx