Oooook, what just happened here?
If I didn't know better, I'd say that I heard my best friend SAY that she fancied James Potter. Let's here that again: FANCIED JAMES POTTER.
I am currently standing next to her, waiting for Potions to start, with my mouth hanging wide open. I've probably unhinged my jaw or something. I could probably fit me whole hand in it.
Give me a break, I'm under mental anguish. Ruth, the sweet little girl who was my best friend since I was eleven, has just come right out and said, "I fancy James Potter!"
What should I do? Call Madame Pomfrey? I don't think that would help. Last time I told Madame Pomfrey that there was a medical emergency, it was because I had seen James Potter helping a first year…
I know. Helping a first year.
Ruth looked at me, all guilty like, and said, "Well, atleast RESPOND."
But I couldn't. I think my heart has stopped beating. Not because it's broken or anything- I mean, it's not like I have a big lesbian crush on Ruth and am desperately upset that she is hetro, no, that isn't it.
It's because RUTH likes the boy who has tormented me with love proclamations since…Since… Fourth year. He's a bloody barstard, that James Potter.
So why does my god-fearing friend, RUTH, want to go out with the Devil's cabana boy, JAMES POTTER?
Well, OK, maybe he isn't the devil's cabana boy. The Devil would have way better taste than a seventeen-year-old tormentor of me.
Maybe it's because she was deprived as a child. She did say she wasn't allowed to have sweets until she was fifteen. Huh.
And also, until she was fourteen, she had to wear long skirts, down to her ankles.
That has to be it.
There's no other reason - no other reason at all - as to why Ruth would like James Potter.
"Err… Lily?" Ruth said, "Please stop staring at me like that and say something."
And then something inside me snapped. It was most likely my Cerebral Cortex.
"JAMES POTTER?" I yelled, hysterically flailing my arms, "JAMES POTTER? AS IN POTTER? AS IN POTTER, JAMES? AS IN JAMES HAROLD FRANCESO POTTER?"
I had basically attracted the attention of everyone in the line, and Professor Slughorn, who was looking onwards at the scene, amused.
Ruth went beetroot red as I composed myself.
"Erm…Sorry, we're practicing for a play. It's called 'Shocks of the Many'. And … Um… we were using James Potter as an example name," I explained.
Jeez, great job, Lily.
I am so sure they believed you.
I hazarded a glance at James Potter, who was grinning like a fool.
"Shut up, Potter," I snapped.
"I didn't say anything!" James Potter said indignantly.
"You just did!" I said.
Everyone was laughing by now. Excluding Ruth and me. Ruth because she was embarrassed immensely, and me because I was just in shock.
No, shock was too smaller word. I was suffering from something that would later require sedation.
"Ok, class," Professor Slughorn said loudly, "Class will begin now. Run in side."
I walked in last, scowling.
Crap, Ruth was sitting with Veronica Cortexes. She was probably angry with me. Angry with ME.
"Lily, take a seat next to David," Slughorn said.
David was my ex-boyfriend! My EX!
"But, Sluggy," I whined.
That nickname got him all the time.
He sighed, and said to James Potter, "Move next to David. Lily, you sit next to Sirius."
Could I possibly try to get him to rearrange the class again!
No, he wouldn't do it. Again.
As I sat down next to Sirius, he said, "Well, Hell-o, Lil-ay."
I shot him a look, the dirty looks I usually reserve for Potter, "What are you, homosexual?"
"Touché," he replied.
I snorted. Au contraire, Mon Amie.
Aaaaaaaagh! Sirius breathes real loud.
"Stop breathing so loud!" I said angrily.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Lily, would you rather I stop breathing altogether?" Sirius said sarcastically.
"That would solve a lot of my problems, actually," I said in mock thoughtfulness.
"…Yeah, so as I was saying, Lily's a cold hard bitch…" Came David's voice, floating across from behind me.
I heard James snarl, "What'd you say?"
"Just that Lily's a skank," David replied.
There was another snarl, and then a crash. I looked back quickly, and saw David lying on the floor. He let out a cry of rage and made contact with James' face, causing another bruise.
What is this, Fight Club?
Well, anyway, James lunged at David and soon they were rolling around on the floor (In an un-homosexual way), punching eachother.
My mouth unhinged for the second time that day … Wow. They were having a fistfight… over ME! Little old me.
Well, my moment of awe was soon put to rest when Professor Slughorn cried something and the two of them spilt apart, James Potter's cheek cut badly, and David's face all bloodied up.
"Miss Evans," Slughorn roared, "Please transport Potter to the hospital while I take care of Mr. Lorenz."
James Potter grinned at me, and extended me his left hand (The one that wasn't all blood-covered). I grudgingly took it, and said conversationally as we left the room, "You know, if you weren't already hurt, I would hit you."
James Potter just smirked, "I got in a fight for you, you know. Most girls would think that was hot."
I made a noise that sounded something like, 'Mchpauh."
"Well, I did."
"Thanks, I guess," I mumbled.
James shrugged, looking away.
WHAT? DID I JUST THANK POTTER?
DID I JUST THANK POTTER?
"But," I said, recovering from my crazy, "You really shouldn't have. You know that David got in that fight with Carl, over Loretta. It was really stupid of you. You knew he could punch the hell out of you."
"To tell you the truth, I wasn't thinking," James snapped, frowning as he looked away.
Good. We're fighting again.
Eeeeew. His cheek is bleeding and dripping.
"Here's a hanky," I said grudgingly, "For your cheek."
I know. I ruined a perfectly white handkerchief. For Potter. But it was either that or loose my lunch.
"Thanks," Potter said, smiling, as he dabbed his sculpted cheekbone.
Did I just call Potter's cheekbone sculpted?
What is this, a porno romance novel?
I have read a couple of them. But that was Ruth's fault. She recommended it when I was an invalid in the Hospital Wing.
And, OK, so I read all of it.
Oh god. I have to get some sort of shot or sedative from Madame Pomfrey.
As we walked into the Hospital Wing, I saw that Madame Pomfrey had her hands full.
"First year charms," explained sympathetically Dalton, a Ravenclaw seventh year.
"Ahh," I said, nodding, as I surveyed the masses of groaning little kids.
"So…Lily…" Dalton said, "What are you doing this weekend?"
I started to freak out.
Dalton had pasty skin and greasy blonde hair. He had a lisp and really grotesquely large front teeth.
"Ah…" I said, looking desperately around for an excuse, "I'm going on a date…"
"Oh," said Dalton, looking crestfallen, "With who?"
"Ahhh," I said, my eyes darting around again, "Potter. Yes, I'm going on a date with James-deary over here-y."
"You are?" James said, bemused.
I shot him a warning look.
"You are," he said firmly, "Now, Dalton my man, we're looking for Pomfrey. Me an my girlfriend here-" He slapped my ass, "need to go find me a doctor."
"Ha," said Dalton, his face flushing, "Ahh…Yeah, I'll see you later."
"It's all over the school!" cried Ruth, running up to me at lunch, "Is it true that you and James are going out?"
JAMES? WHEN DID SHE START TO CALL HIM 'JAMES'?
"Uh… Yes and No." I said, smiling slyly.
"AFTER YOU KNEW HOW I FELT ABOUT THEM?" Ruth screamed loudly, attracting the attention of the school (And Dumbledore), "HOW COULD YOU?"
"Huh?" I said, confused, "You care about him that much? I only did it so I wouldn't have to go out with Dalton Smith."
Ouch. That sounded harsh.
"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU, LILY. AFTER YOU KNEW I LOVED JAMES POTTER!" Ruth cried, running off, weeping.
I dropped my fork, which had my mash potatoes on it, onto the floor.
What the HELL just happened here?
I'm supposed to be the one with the massive personality mood swing disorder.
And that was the first chapter of Lilies: $50. Here's how it works:
0-5 Reviews: Forget About It.
5-7: A Week.
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10: Give Me Two Days, Tops.