A/N: So, this is another all-dialogue thing.

It's really...long.

I have no idea if it makes any sense whatsoever. I wrote it at twelve o'clock last night after some sort of wild beast was murdered brutally outside my window.

I don't exactly recall writing this. But I did. So I'm posting it.

Read and review, fools.


Disclaimer: Quit asking me.

For the wailing beast or fiend or some such other animal
That was brutally tortured and murdered outside my window
late night last.
If it weren't for the fact that I have respect for the dead,
And that this story was produced because of your
infernal wailing,
I'd torture and kill you myself.


(Or the Redundancy of the Castrated and the Mutilation of the Dinner Roll. But that's too long to fit.)

"Is there any particular reason you're mutilating that roll?"

"Go away, Potter."

"Now that's not very polite, dear Lilyflower. What would your mother think?"

"She would think, 'what an irritating boy that is, badgering my poor daughter when she so obviously wants to be alone.' "

"…Wow. You're mother is very perceptive. Does she always know what you're thinking?"

"…What do you want, Potter?"

"For you to go ou-"

"Besides that."

"…Well then I suppose I want to know why you're mutilating your roll."

"I'm not mutilating it."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shall rephrase that…I suppose I want to know why you're tearing your roll into little bits, squashing them onto your plate, and then stabbing them with your fork."

"…It's none of your business."

"You're right. So why are you doing it?"


"Do mine ears deceive me? Did I just hear my name, my real name, come from the beautiful lips that grace dear Lilyflower's face?"

"You really irk me."

"Yes I know. It's probably why I was born. To irk you beyond the highest level of irkness."

"Really? I always thought you were born to be, how do you put it again? 'God's gift to women.' "

"Well that too, of course. But it's less of a full-time job than irking you."

"Gee. Thanks."

"You're welcome! Now why were you mutilating your roll?"

"Would you stop asking me? I'm not going to tell you."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"Are you sure?"


"Are you sure you're sure?"


"Are you sure you're sure you're sure?"


"…I think you made that first year over there wet his pants. Not a very good move if you're still trying for that Head Girl spot you know."

"Gah! I'm leaving."


"So where are we going?"

"We're not going anywhere. I'm going to the library. And you're leaving me alone."



"Now now, Lilyflower. There's no need to shout. We're just going outside for a bit of fresh air, nothing to worry about."

"We can't go outside! It's snowing cats and dogs!"

"I do believe you've just mixed your metaphors. It generally rains cats and dogs and snows like Filch is having a particularly hard time with his already profuse dandruff."

"…that's disgusting. And why haven't you put me down yet? PUT ME DOWN! HELLLLP! RAPE, RAPE!"

"Oh now that was just uncalled for. No need to demean my intelligence. If I were raping you, I'd do it someplace that wasn't the middle of the Entrance Hall."

"…Forgive me for being a bit creeped out by that statement."

"You are forgiven."



"Put. Me. Down."

"I. Don't. Want. To."



"…stop mocking me."

"…stop deafening me."


"Owwww, Liiiiiillllyyyyy, that's my ear!"

"Yes, I know…LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!"

"Ow, dammit. Okay, okay. I'm putting you down. There, see? You're down. No need to get your knickers all in a twist."



"…You need to work on your aim. Is your hand okay? That suit of armor looks a bit hard…"

"Owww. I think it's broken. This is all your fault!"

"No it's not. It's whoever taught you how to hit's fault. They did a rather poor job of it. And it's not broken. You'd be in a lot more pain if it was broken. Trust me, I know."

"Oh yes, I almost forgot. The great James Potter and all his Quidditch exploits. Look at me, I'm swooning."

"You wouldn't be the first."

"You're impossible."

"You're tempermental."

"I hate you."

"I love you."


"Did I say that aloud? Oh, bugger it. Do you mind if I do a quick Memory Charm on you right fast? I think I've pretty much got it perfected. Sirius only lost his memory of being specifically attracted to the woman counterpart of the human species for a bit that one time."


"Good then. Hold still for a second."

"What? NO! Put that away right this instant, James!"

"But I haven't done the charm yet."

"That's the point. You aren't doing the charm."

"What? Yes I am. How else am I supposed to make you forget that I told you I love you? Oh bollocks, now I have to erase two memories, you don't mind if you forget you're a girl for awhile, do you?"

"…Yes, as a matter of fact. I do."

"Damn. Well then what am I supposed to do?"

"You're supposed to tell me what you meant by that."

"Meant by what? The Sirius thing? Oh well that was just for a bit. Thought he was gay for awhile. I found it rather amusing. However, Remus, I'm sorry to say, has been scarred for life and states that if anyone ever speaks of it again, he shall become terminally ill and die, and we shall all be sorry. He has left instructions to bury him with girly magazines just to be sure they know he's straight when he reaches the pearly gates. To avoid misunderstanding and confusion and the like."


"What ho! Did I just make Lily Evans crack a smile? No honor so great hath ever been bequeathed to me such that-"

"Shut up, James, and tell me what you meant."

"…I just told you what I meant. Well, for the most part, I left out the part where Sirius straddled the-"

"STOP RIGHT THERE! I don't want to know. I meant the other thing."

"…Other thing?"

"Yes, the other thing."

"Okay…What other thing?"

"The other thing you said!"

"I said something else?"


"Oh…I don't recall saying anything else."



"Stop being evasive."

"I'm not being evasive, I simply do not know what you're talking about."

"You do so. The thing you said before the thing about Sirius."

"About the roll?"

"No! About the…other thing."

"Oh. That."

"Yes. That."

"I personally find the thing I said about the roll to be a much more endearing topic of discussion."

"Well, I don't. So tell me what you meant."

"Er…well…you were supposed to forget about that."


"Because I wasn't supposed to say it."


"Because it was a bad thing to say."


"Because I haven't gotten to that part of the plan yet."

"Wh-…Plan? What plan?"

"Oh bugger. Are you sure I can't do a memory charm on you? It won't hurt, I promise...I think."

"Yes, I am sure. And what plan?"

"The one concerning how to get you to fall in love with me. Are you sure you're sure?"

"Yes. You have a plan to get me to fall in love with you?"

"Yes, it's very complex. Are you sure you're sure you're sure?"

"Yes, James! I'm sure! And why did you make a plan?"

"Because I saw no other way to rectify the situation. Are you sure you're sure you're sure you're sure?"


"Go where?"

"Don't go anywhere, just tell me what you meant!"

"You shouldn't act irritated, Lily. You can't tell someone to 'go' and not expect them to inquire as to where they should be going."

"Would you stop avoiding the subject?"

"What subject?"

"The one we were talking about earlier!"

"The Sirius one? I thought you said you didn-"


"…The portraits are staring at you."

"I don't care."

"Good then. Just thought you ought to know."



"I am about to hex you."

"Yes, I know."

"Would you like me not to hex you?"

"That would be preferable, yes."

"Then you are going to have to tell me what you meant."

"Well I would think it was obvious."

"Well I would think you were wrong."

"Are you sure?"


"Are you sure you're sure?"


"Are you su-"


"Yes! Nice to meet you! You're Lily Evans, I presume?"


"Green or purple?"


"Green or purple?"

"…I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Your tentacles. Would you like them green or purple?"

"Ah. Well I'm rather partial to green, actually."


"Thank you. These go nicely with my sweater, don't you think?"

"James, do not underestimate me. I will make those things strangle you if you do not tell me this instant what it was you meant."




"Okay, I'll tell you."



"You have four seconds, James."

"Four? Can't we up that to five? I rather like the number five better."


"What happened to four?"


"Oh fine, I love you."


"You usually don't strike me as much of a redundant person, Lily, but today I'm considering revising my thoughts on that subject."

"You…you…l-…lll-…you llo-…"

"I love you? Yep."


"Lily, seriously, redundancy. It isn't befitting of you."


"Well I suppose it's because I'm so used to all those witty retorts I'm so used to following my advances on you. They aren't usually so redundant. But it could be the fa-"

"No, not why to that. Why do you ll-…lll-…"

"Love you?"

"Ya. That."

"Hmm. Well I suppose it's all those witty retorts that follow my advances on you."


"The redundancy, Lily. It's got to stop."

"You should be used to redundancy, Potter. You're only a walking example of it."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You've asked me out every day since January 3rd in our fourth year."

"It was the fourth."

"There will only be a fourth of your pancreas left if you don't stop avoiding my question."

"Ah, now there's the Lily I know and love."

"But why? And don't you dare ask 'why what'."

"I've already told you. It's the witty retorts, the way your hair spreads across your shoulder when your standing still or eating your usual ham and potato chip sandwich (which, by the way, is odd), the way you bite your lip like you're doing now when you're thinking or worried, the way your smile makes everyone happy with you, the way…I could continue with this corniness for quite awhile, but I've learned from experience that very few people continue to listen after about the fifth reason."

"You're…you're serious, aren't you?"

"No, I'm James. Sirius is stuffing his face with Pumpkin Pasties in our dorm right now. He claims they're a cure for cancer."

"The Sirius joke got old in third year. And Sirius doesn't have cancer."

"Try telling him that."

"You've gotten us off-topic again."

"I know."

"You really…you really meant all that stuff?"


"I…you…you're not just…not just in it for…the challenge?"

"Lily, getting you to go out with me is not a challenge. It's an impossible feat that will only result in death or dismemberment. Or castration, though hopefully you'll be kind enough to stick with the death or dismemberment. But I have my doubts."

"Well then why do you do it?"

"Because I love you."


"Yes. Oh."

"But…but wh-"

"Lily, will you go out with me?"


"Okay, just thought I'd as- wait, what?"


"You just said…you just said yes."

"…What? No I didn't."

"Yes you did. You said yes."

"No! No I did not!"

"Lily! You're in love with me! I KNEW it!"

"What? No- no I'm not! No, I'm not in-"




"I so just proved you wrong. If you weren't hopelessly in love with me, you wouldn't have kissed me back just then."


"You're in love with me."


"What'd your roll ever do to you?"


"You're roll. What'd it do to you to make you mutilate it so."

"You're incredibly adept at changing the subject."

"You're incredibly adept at being redundant."

"So are you."

"Yes, but it's befitting of me. I'm James Potter. I'm a male. I have the attention span of Sirius in a room full of shiny things. Why were you mutilating your roll?"

"…Because I figured out I was in love with you."

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Very much so."

"Care for a snog?"

"You are so vulgar."

"Ya, but you love me for it."

"…This isn't going to stop for a long, long time, is it?"

"Nope. Redundancy is my forte, remember? I know this nice roomy broom cupboard up on the third floor…"

"I'm not snogging you in a broom cupboard."

"Fine…how 'bout behind that suit of armor?"


"Are you sure?"

"Don't even start."

"Are you sure you're sure?"


"Are you sure you're sure you're sure?"

"Yes. I would think it would be rather hard to snog someone with tentacles sprouting from their head. I'll see you next Hogsmeade, James."

Step step step step step step, door closing.


A/N: Blame the mutilated carcass outside my window for whatever this said.

Read and review, it's only respectful of the dead, you know. How do you think that...rodent of some sort will feel if the reason he died was in vain?

Not very good at all, that's how he'll feel. Not very good at all.