Disclaimer: I do not own any of this (JK does) except possibly the plot but I have to admit it's probably some strange fusion of all the romance books that I've ever read and not just my oh so creative imagination.

Author's Note 15/5/13: An anon recently reviewed pointing out some formatting oddities and after having a quick look I was horrified at the amount of punctuation errors and typos that are in this story. I first wrote this 10 years ago now (which is quite a scary thought), so I'm loathe to alter it too much as it sort of exists as a record of how my writing began, but I'm going to go through it and update all the errors I spot.

Also, a note to new readers: Please don't be put off by my awful writing of 10 years ago. I actually finished this story just 5 years ago and my writing improves dramatically as the story goes on (at least I hope so!).


Stealing Sheep

Chapter 1: The Way We Weren't

CRASH!

A heavy novel entitled '101 Useful Uses for Wolfsbane' whizzed a mere inch above James's head, confirming his suspicions that she was not very pleased with him.

SMASH!

An ink pot was aimed at his head, but he ducked quickly and the green liquid ran down the wall behind him, glass pieces scattering at his feet. That was when he realised that she was not very pleased with him at all.

"For the love of quidditch, girl! That was my favourite ink pot! I mean, I like it but I never asked for it to be smashed into me!" James said, his hazel eyes widening as her vibrant green ones bore into his.

"Quidditch! QUIDDITCH! Do not get me started on that bloody game!" she raged, stalking out the door and slamming it with all her might, which was surprisingly powerful as the room shook from her furious rampage.

She was gone long enough for James to heave a sigh of relief before realising that Lily Evans would never just sulk away and let him get away with it. Not that he knew what 'it' was . He had just been strolling along, minding his own business for once and feeling quite good about life when a red-headed firebolt had assaulted him with a torrent of insults fit to make even Sirius blush and suddenly he had been thrown through the portrait hole and into the empty common room.

"What's this?"

'Here it comes,' he thought, both mentally and physically preparing himself for what she would hurl at him. He simply had to act the right way - innocently - and there was a minute chance that he could escape with only minor injuries and his limbs still attached.

Evans held out a book- a diary to be exact- for James to see. He eyed it suspiciously, convinced it was a trick question. "Huh?" he answered stupidly; he was sure that he had missed something vital in the conversation.

"It's called a diary- as in private. Now, just suppose someone would want to pull an absolutely hilarious prank involving someone's diary, and just suppose that this prank made a person actually sing the contents of their private diary while stood on the Gryffindor House table in front of the whole bloody school!" Lily got more and more worked up as she raged at him, her face turning a deeper shade of crimson by the second, and James finally comprehended what she was going on about. "And just suppose that a certain IDIOT BOY had just so happened to do all this to someone like- let me think- ME!"

"So?" Unfortunately, despite being one of the smartest students in the school he could be incredibly thick sometimes.

"So! SO!" She was now looking as though she would explode while she screamed at him: her nostrils flared; her face was the colour of a post box; and her free hand was balled into a fist at her side. "How dare y-"

"I didn't do it!"

This was the wrong thing to say, James realised, as she continued her tirade of abuse. But he hadn't had anything to do with it! It must've been Sirius. He had actually been thinking about pulling that prank for a while now but he just couldn't decide who should be the victim. Guess he decided.

She was now pacing in front of him, getting scarier and fiercer every second but now James had begun to get angry too. Where did she get off calling him names and blaming people randomly?

"What are you going on about? It wasn't me! It was Sirius, okay?" he yelled in a fierce voice, his hands now clenching into fists.

"Oh! So now you can't even have the courage to admit it!" she shrieked and faced him, hands on hips, fuming as he glared down at her.

"I didn't do it, but I'm beginning to wish that I had! I wonder what saucy little secrets you've been keeping? You're not exactly perfect now are you?" James said hotly, staring unblinkingly at Lily.

"What are you implying? Just say what you mean for once and stop being such a whimp!" She took a challenging step towards him.

James met her in the centre of the room, only an inch separating them. "You are a spoiled little princess who can't admit when she's wrong! You needed taking down a peg or two!"

"You arrogant prick!"

"Hag!"

"Toad!"

"Idiot!"

"Slug!"

"Scarlet woman!"

Their fury simultaneously reached boiling point and in their heightened state of wild anger they lunged at each other, like two arrows that had been pulled taut now ripping loose. Before they could fully comprehend what had happened they were locked together in a furious embrace, her hands running through his hair at an alarming rate and his lips ravishing hers.

As they sank to the floor, a mass of tangled limbs, she muttered "pig". He smiled against her mouth.

"Witch."

A seventeen-year-old Lily Evans sprang bolt upright in her bed, instantly awake, gasping for breath and attempting to understand what the hell had just happened to her.

After that, she just couldn't sleep for fear of revisiting that monstrous scene with Potter, so she got out of bed and padded into the bathroom. She shut the door, sunk onto the cold, tiled floor and just sat in the darkness, her head in her hands, trying to decipher her last nightmare.

The worst thing was that it wasn't even the first one. She'd been having them for weeks now, but it was usually just them screaming at each other over something trivial. There hadn't been even an inkling before of any emotion other than hate between them, never mind them actually...

Any interaction between her and James Potter was strange in itself. She barely even spoke to the boy, except to ask him to pass the potatoes, or to tell him to shut up in class. He had his friends, she had hers, and that was all there was to it. She had never harboured any secret desire for him, or really felt anything at all except for the occasional twinge of annoyance at his arrogance. She had, however, sometimes suspected that he had a thing for her, as she had caught him staring at her strangely once or twice.

There was no doubt that it was a bizarre situation. Why would she be dreaming about James Potter if she had no feelings for him? She wasn't that worried about being secretly in love with him. Lily had seen loads of her friends absolutely detest someone, then all of a sudden realise that they actually kinda liked them. She was used to the concept and knew that if she began to loathe James even a tiny bit, it probably meant that she fancied him. That was so not going to happen. She had learned that love and hate were close relations, and since she didn't hate him and sure as hell didn't love him, she was safe. For now. The dreams were probably just a manifestation of some deep psychological problem. She hoped.

Lily got to her feet and quickly washed her face with cold water. "You have to stop this," she told herself. "It's only sexual fantasies about James Potter..." Whilst staring at her dripping face in the mirror, she couldn't decide which was worse: raging hormones, or losing her mind. She concluded that she was losing her mind and that she would have to get over it quickly before she returned to Hogwarts for her final year, or someone was bound to notice that she was moaning, 'Potter... prat... gorgeous' in her sleep.

All she knew was that whatever it was, it was freaking her out.