10 Things I Hate About You

10 Things I Hate About You

Chapter 3


Lily spun around, nursing her cheek. James Potter had terribly good aim, she had discovered, and she now sported a long scratch down her left cheek, due to having numerous sharp objects thrown at her. She was torn between going to Madame Pomfrey (but then she might be subjected to numerous 'cures') or, of course, she could just plan revenge on James to distract her attention from her cheek.

Revenge sounded awfully appealing.

'What, Potter? And don't come too close or you might be badly injured- what am I saying? Come as close as you want.'

James stared at her, obviously wondering if she'd been to Madame Pomfrey. That nurse (who was actually quite new to the medical department) was insane. And now, possibly, Lily had joined her ranks.

'I don't have fleas,' she snapped, getting sick of watching him stare at her.

A new problem to watch out for, James thought ruefully. Just when he thought he understood girls, they go getting fleas. Ridiculous.

'Yes, well, I figured that -girls don't get fleas, do they?'

Lily rolled her eyes impatiently. 'No, Potter. What d'you want?'

'Just a talk.'

'As in, talk and while we do that you hex me, or as in friendly conversation with no side effects involved? Because either way, I don't particularly want to talk to you, thankyou very much.'

'You don't?'



'Yes, Potter, no.'

'Is that yes or no?'

'Are you trying to make me go insane? Cause you're doing a very good job if it.'

'Oh, good. My aim in life.'

Lily flopped back into the squishy armchair she was seated in, blowing her hair off her face tiredly. James waited for her to speak.

'I'm bored.' She said.

'I have a joke for you then.'

Lily rolled her eyes, but waited for the joke.

'Ask me if I'm an apple.' James said, already trying not to laugh.

'Are you an apple?'

'No!' He lay back on his chair, cackling.

'Lunacy,' Lily muttered.


It was the Christmas holidays, and James and Sirius were lazing around in James's living room, sipping lemonade with James's Uncle Laurie. His uncle was pretty cool- he was great friends with James and Sirius and by far James's favourite relative. He was much more loved than James's aunt, whom James referred to as 'Madame Monstrousness,' or, in more simple terms, 'monster.'

She was one scary aunt.

'So, James, any ladies in your life?'

Laurie was extremely interested in 'ladies,' as he often referred to them as (it was strange, a word like that in such a small, yet overly expressive vocabulary). And he was just as interested in everyone else's love lives as well as his own, even if the love life was non-existent (like his).

'Nope,' James said listlessly, blowing a bubble.

'Apart from Lily,' Sirius said cheerfully, half drunk on butterbeer- though he probably would have said that had he been sober.

'Lily, eh?'

James popped his bubble. 'Sirius is the one obsessed with Evans.'

'But James is infatuated with her.'

'Sirius dreams of her,' James retorted, not at all happy at the way this conversation was turning out. Why couldn't they just have stuck with 'nope,' and then changed the topic of discussion to Quidditch, or something else exciting like that- and hopefully something far less embarrassing.

'James stares at her at breakfast,' Sirius said, sculling down yet another mug of butterbeer. He burped loudly.

James, having run out of insults (apart from rude ones, but his mother was in the next room and he wasn't going to resort to them) chose the more childish approach of defence. 'I do not!'

'Yes, you do.' Burp.

James sighed loudly, and he blew another bubble.

Laurie smiled, satisfied. Finally, some interesting gossip.

'And what's this 'Lily'- or 'Evans' -I take it that's her last name?'

Sirius nodded, another loud burp (which smelt strangely like sausages) escaping his lips.

'Yes, what's she like?'

James pulled a face, his bubble floating away. 'Horrible.'

Sirius rolled his eyes, dropping his mug on the ground.

'She is gorgeous, I tell you, absolutely gorgeous…in a different kind of way.'

Laurie raised his eyebrows.

'Is that so?'

James slumped down onto the couch. 'She's alright, I s'pose.'

'But sadly, she's got the hots for Jamsie boy, so I thought it wrong to interfere,' Sirius said, somewhat seriously.

James snorted. 'Last time you tried to interfere- not that there was anything to interfere with in the first place- she slapped you across the face.'

'Feisty, eh?' His uncle was having a great time. Now he just had to let slip to James's mother that her baby boy had a girlfriend and his life- or evening- would be complete.

'Ferocious,' James muttered, remembering several more painful occasions.

'I'll give you some advice, James my boy.'

'Thank God for Uncle Laurie,' James muttered, wondering if he'd be told to kiss her, send her love letters, or, worse- no, there wasn't any worse.

'Just tell the girl you like her, you've got nothing to lose.'

'Except my nose…and my head…heck, Evans'd blow me apart if she had the chance.'

'Or you just kiss her,' Laurie countered, looking thoughtful.

'Or not.'


Back at school, after Christmas, the Gryffindor Common room was once again full. The noise was terrible- the first years were a bit behind the times and they were all still singing Christmas carols, while the third years pelted them with whatever came out of their wands.

The seventh years, once they'd calmed down everyone else (or, in Sirius's case, had joined in the fun) went back to studying for their NEWTS. They only had five months now, and while it seemed such a long time away, they all knew they had to know it all, and besides- there was nothing better to do…except blow up Filch's broom closet…or paint the Slytherin Dungeon scarlet and gold…so many possibilities, yet so little time. Well, it wasn't that there wasn't time- there was, there was just so much homework in between.

James was poring over his notes on Charms, looking up every now and then to see what Lily was up to- except he had no idea he was doing it, though Sirius- being Sirius- was in stitches, just waiting for Lily notice.

She didn't.

Her long hair looked quite straggled, and James was sure she'd been studying far too much, but, as he hated her, he couldn't very well point this fact out.

Lily yawned loudly, stacked her books up in a pile, and then stood up, her green eyes blurry.


She walked slowly off to her dorm, robes trailing loosely around her shoulders. She didn't notice a small piece of paper fall out of her notebook, and neither did James- he was staring at her head- but Sirius (of course) did, and he planned on waiting until James had gone to bed to read it. Just in case it had some interesting information provided in it or something.

After seven games of chess, the tiny piece of paper still lay on the ground, and Sirius was so exhausted from losing game after game- James was on a lucky winning streak- he'd forgotten all about the little piece of paper on the ground.

Sirius yawned loudly, his head drooping onto the armrest of the chair.

'Checkmate,' James said for the eighth time.

No answer.

'Sirius? Yoo hoo?'

Sirius snored loudly; something James was very grateful for, as he'd just sounded horribly like his grandmother.

James rolled his eyes to the ceiling and packed the little chessmen away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a little folded piece of paper on the floor, standing out against the dark carpeted floor.

He frowned and went over to pick it up, unfolded it and smoothed it out gently on his hands.

It wasn't parchment- unless parchment had suddenly become a lot whiter and smoother- and James supposed it belonged to a muggle-born wizard.

He skimmed through the writing on it, his heart giving a tiny little leap when he saw the second last line.

It was a poem.

Quite a nice poem too, he thought, not that he'd ever really read much poetry before.


James crept quietly up to the seventh year girl's dorm, praying to God that no girl would decide to go for a little midnight stroll. He hadn't quite mastered memory charms yet. He pushed open the door and winced as it creaked loudly on its hinges. He waited for screams of 'intruder!'


Well, snores. But apart from that, nothing.

Now, which bed was Lily's? James couldn't remember, so he had to check each bed in turn- Lianne; it appeared, slept with a large stuffed crocodile.

When he finally found Lily, she was lying on her back, a teddy tucked neatly under her arm. She looked so angelic. Completely unlike her normal self. In fact, she looked a lot like one of those paintings by Monet, or was it Renoir? Well, it was some dead french artist, and she looked like their paintings. James suddenly realised that Lily could awaken any second and he was thinking of french artists.

Lily lay cosily in bed, not dreaming, just happy in the blissful warmth of sleep.

She was not at all happy when someone shook her awake at two o'clock in the morning.

'Evans…wake up.'

She blinked her eyes open, staring into the dark. She could see two little dots of light hovering in front of her, and she swiped at them.



No, it can't be Potter. Why would he be in my dorm at this hour?

'No shit, Sherlock. Ow…'

Oh God, where's my wand?

'Stop moaning. Why the hell are you here?' She snapped, pulling up her blankets around her arms, which were chilly.

James sniffed, pushing his glasses back up his nose- Lily guessed the glasses were what she'd swiped at.

'Just thought I'd return something to you, before Sirius got his filthy paws on it.'


James tossed the piece of paper at her, and it landed in her lap, a tiny scrunched up ball of paper.

Lily stared at it.

'What is it?'

'Well, I think it's yours. It's in your handwriting and your name is mentioned…' James trailed off.

'What is it?' She repeated.

'A poem.' He said simply, awaiting her reaction.

She turned as white as a sheet.

'Is it yours?' James said, when Lily didn't say anything.

'How should I know, I haven't read it yet, have I?'

'So read it.'

Gingerly, she unfolded the paper and read the poem.

She opened her mouth to say something, decided nothing was appropriate, and instead slapped him.


Lily crossed her arms across her chess, glaring at him furiously.

'What was that for?'

All intentions he had of being nice to her for once flew straight out of his head. She was a slimy little rat, even if she could write poetry. Besides, it wasn't even that good.

'You deserved it,' she said through gritted teeth, the paper now a tiny ball in her clenched fist.

'Hey, you left it out there, Evans, not me.'

'So. You didn't have to read it, did you?'

'Oh, so I was just supposed to look at it, know it was yours and return it to you?'

'That would have been fine with me.'

'I can't believe I even came here.'

'Neither can I, why don't you do us both a favour and leave?'

'Fine by me.'

He got up to leave, casting one angry last at Lily before he did, and saw that she really did look like an angel.

Her long hair was falling over her shoulders in tumbles, the moonlight shining in through the window casting a funny kind of halo around her head, making the red glow. She wore only a short sleeved top and some shorts, and while she looked dangerously close to slapping him, all he wanted to do at that moment was crawl over and kiss her.

He sat down again, landing on her knee, causing her to yell out loudly.


They both heard voices from the other occupants of the room, and the Lily stared at him in horror.

'James, get under the bed!'

James blinked, and did a double take. 'James?'

'Dammit, Potter get under the bed!'

Well, we were almost on a first name basis for a moment there…

'Lily? Are you okay?'

'She's probably having nightmares about James Potter again,' came Jo's voice.

James looked at Lily quizzically. 'You have nightmares about me?'

'Doesn't everybody?' She hissed.


Lily moaned something to herself, and she looked at James with wide green eyes. 'Quick, Potter, get under here.'

'Under where?'

'How is it that you get such good grades when you're so bloody dim witted?' She threw the blanket over his head, and crouched under to whisper something to him for a moment.

'Stay here, don't move, don't say anything.'

He smiled charmingly at her.

'Lily? Who are you talking to?'

Jo pulled the drapes back.

'Lil, are you okay?'

Lily emerged from under the covers. 'Fine! Just fine! How are you four?'

Her friends stared first at her, and then at the bed. The bed sounded almost as if it were giggling.

'We're fine,' Jo said slowly. 'What's that?'

'What's what?'

'That lump right in the middle of your bed.'

'What lump?'

Lianne gave a frustrated sigh. 'That lump, idiot.' She pulled back the blanket and revealed James Potter, who grinned up at them all, his hair even worse than usual.

Lianne gave a shriek and raced out the room, no doubt to tell the entire Gryffindor house that Lily Evans and James Potter were in bed together. The other two followed, while Jo looked at Lily to James, then back to Lily.


Lily tossed the covers back over James and sat on him. 'What lump?'

'Ouch.' Jo heard James's muffled groan.

'Lil, maybe you should get off him…he might suffocate.'

'All the more reason to just sit here.'

James, however, had ideas of his own. He sat up, pushing Lily off the bed in the process. 'Hi, Jo.'

'Hullo, James. Night Lily.'

Jo followed the other three out the door, to hear what they'd been telling the sixth years.

Lily sat back up on the bed, looking at James, her green eyes filled with something that could only be described as hatred. James looked innocently back at her, except something completely different was shadowed in his dark eyes.

Lily looked away, now uncomfortably aware that she wore only her pyjamas.

'Get lost, Potter.'

'Nah, I was thinking I might stay awhile.'


'How come you hate me?'

'How come you hate me?'

'I asked first,' James said stubbornly.

'I asked second.'

'Who ever said I hate you?' James said easily, lying back on her pillows.

'Let's see…You've called me Evans almost my whole life, you're always insulting me, you're always trying to curse me,' Lily started ticking the different things off her fingers.

'Okay, okay. But I haven't done anything like that recently, have I?'

'You've been on holidays.'

'But I still haven't done anything.'

Lily threw up her hands. 'You haven't had the chance!'


Lily mouthed wordlessly. 'You are- you're- why were you here?'

James grinned. 'To give you back your poem.'

'I've got my poem now.'

'You do.'

'So you can leave.'

'I could,' James said slowly.

Lily looked at James. He lay back on her bed, watching her, waiting her reaction curiously, and even she was surprised when she lay down besides him, staring at the canopy above her.

'I hate you,' she muttered.

'Good thing I never take your insults to heart.'

Lily turned over and buried her head in the soft pillow. 'Leave me alone.'

James thought for a moment. 'Okay. Goodnight, Lily.'

He left, closing the door behind him quietly.

Lily rolled back onto her back feeling inexplicably confused. Something tiny pricked her arm, and she raised her other arm to the spot automatically, feeling a tiny spot of blood. 'What on earth-'

A small red rose lay next to her, one of its thorns red from her blood.

She wiped the blood away and felt a surge of anger rush over her, and in her fury she threw the rose across the room. It smashed into the wall, one of its petals drifting to the ground, the stem bent.

Without thinking, she climbed out of bed and picked it up, ignoring the thorns that were ripping her skin, cradling it her in her arms, one thought ringing through her mind.

He called me Lily.


'Did he kiss you?'


'Did you kiss him?'


'Then why was he in bed with you?'

'He wasn't.'

'It was your bed, and he was in it.' Lianne explained, in case Lily had missed something.

Lily put her head in her hands, sitting down on the steps abruptly, causing the students behind her to quickly either detour or trip over her and break their necks.

'Because he's an idiot.'

'What one earth does that have to do with anything?'

'Everything,' Lily said dully.

Lianne took a deep breath.

'Do. You. Like. Him?'


'Are you sure?'


'Are you sure you're sure?'


Lily turned away, and was completely oblivious when Lianne left, no doubt some sort of romantic rendezvous scenario running through her mind. She didn't see James sit behind her.

'You're sure you're sure you're sure?' He asked teasingly.

'Look. Potter is- he's-'

'In love with you?'

Lily snorted. 'No. I don't know what's wrong with him, come to think of it…I'd say he's been eating Madame Pomfrey's plants again.'

'Why's that?'

Lily shrugged and turned around.

She suddenly felt extremely light-headed.

'Potter?' She whispered weakly.

'Hullo…why do you hate me?'

A million thoughts flew out her head. 'I don't remember.'

James smiled. He sat for a moment, deep in thought, while Lily silently screamed at herself. He grabbed her hand and dragged her into an empty classroom, pulling her close to him.

'What're you doing?'

He shrugged. 'I don't really know.'

Lily tried to struggle free, found she couldn't and glared at James, her green eyes full of resentment. 'Dammit, Potter…why d'you have to do this to me?'

'What do I do?'

'I don't know,' Lily said helplessly, as James pulled her even closer. 'You just-' he was so close she could feel his breath on her face. 'Make me go crazy…'

James cocked his head to one side. 'Crazy? As in, insane, or just kind of dizzy feeling, like you want to fall over?'

Lily saw the mischief in his eyes, saw that he knew exactly how she was feeling, opened her mouth to yell at him, and found that she couldn't because he was kissing her and she was so dizzy she couldn't pull away, and even if she hadn't been feeling dizzy, somehow she knew she wouldn't anyway.

Professor McGonagall walked briskly along the corridor. Why was it that whenever you needed someone- or some people- they were nowhere to be found? She'd been looking for Potter and Evans all morning, though none of their friends had any clue where they were.

She sighed. Potter was no doubt incredibly smart- it all just came naturally to him, but he was such a trouble, sometimes she wished she could just expel him and be done with it- though she knew she never would. It was a wonder his ego hadn't flown right through the roof, considering the amount of girls who threw themselves at him. She frowned, thinking of the rumours going around the school. Evans and Potter? It just didn't fit. Lily was as talented in James- maybe not as skilled in Transfiguration, but by the sounds of it she was genius in Charms.

They were completely different, they hated each other.

Evans, while she had a temper, was sweet, Potter was kind but a nuisance, Evans studied, Potter didn't. They were as different as black and white.

Besides, James had so many girls falling over him he'd never choose Lily over them all, not when she'd rather throw a curse at his head then kiss him. No, the most likely reason she couldn't find them was because Potter had probably locked her up somewhere to torture her.

Why did Dumbledore have to put them as Head boy and girl? Why? It just made more trouble.

The professor was snapped out of her problems when she heard a thump from a nearby classroom.

A ha.

She stepped through the doorway, and opened her mouth in shock. Obviously, Evans was either under the influence of a love potion or she didn't hate Potter as much as she said.

Neither teenager notice their Transfiguration teacher staring at them with horror- she was too surprised to speak.

The thump had most likely been the chair, which was now on the ground falling over, or Evans' shoe, but it probably wouldn't have made such a loud noise. The two of them didn't seem to want to let go of each other- Lily's knuckles were white, her hands gripping onto James's robes, and it looked as though they were only breathing when it became urgent for oxygen. McGonagall was surprised more furniture wasn't broken- they were most definitely not standing still, it was more like they were spinning around in a circle, Lily standing on her tip toes so she could actually reach James's lips.

It would have all been very romantic had they not been her pupils, not to mention her head students- imagine if one of the first years had walked in on this, they'd have been corrupted for life.

She cleared her throat.

Lily leapt away from James like he was poison, breathing hard, her cheeks very pink.

James turned around slowly, looking much like Lily did.

They looked at Professor McGonagall sheepishly.

'Dumbledore's office. Now.'


'We didn't-'

'I will speak to you both about this incident later. The headmaster wants to speak to you about something.'

They breathed identical sighs of relief and left the room, avoiding the professor's glare.

Potter and Evans…next Pettigrew would manage to work a spell, just to completely stop her poor heart.


A few mornings later at breakfast, James's owl brought him a letter. On the envelope it simply said James, but the writing was familiar, and he glanced at Lily.

She gave him a tiny smile and then looked away quickly before Lianne could accuse her of staring.

He opened he envelope and a piece of paper fell out, folded numerous times.

On the top fold it said open this later (or else).

James shrugged, shoved it in his pocket and left after telling Sirius he just had to get something from the common room.

Lily watched him leave and followed him silently outside into the snow.

James sat underneath a tree and unfolded the parchment. It was another poem, this time written in emerald ink which still looked as though it was wet, shimmering in the cold sunlight.


You said you like my poetry

10 Things I Hate About You

I hate the way you tease me

They way you brush your hair

I hate the way you mock me

And how you're always there

I hate the way you laugh at me

I hate your big brown eyes

I hate the way I'm so confused

I hate it when you make me cry

I hate the way you fool about

Like you're never gonna fall

But most of all

I hate the way I don't hate you

Not even a little bit

Not at all

Okay. Well, that might be the last part- unless all you peoples really, really want more. I'm on holidays now, so you'll probably be seeing more of me (he he he). Hope this was okay- it didn't quite turn out the way I wanted it to.

Thanks to my lovely Beta reader, Eve/Tanager, whatever she wants to call herself- if there are any mistakes, blame her. Muahahaha. *grins*

Nothing's mine.