These characters do not belong to me. They were created by J.K Rowling.
This story is rated: M. Due to language and explicit sexual content.

AN: I bet you all thought I gave up on this! Well, you weren't wrong in assuming so, it has been over a year since I've updated. I really do feel bad for those of you who kept coming back and checking if I had. I do apologize for my absence and neglecting to finish this story. If you want to know the honest truth, here it goes: the real-life inspiration for the characterization of my version of James Potter sort of tainted things for me. He turned out to be the biggest toe-rag I've ever met, and that's the nicest way I can put it. I feel pathetic admitting that a lot of the quotes James' says in 'Crave' were things once said to me by my muse. I know this excuse may come off as foolish to some, but I don't really care. I really would try my best to continue on writing, but it was hard for me. It was hard to portray James in such an appealing and romantic light when I whole-heartedly hated the person who inspired my version of the character. Nevertheless, a lot of time has passed and I've gotten closure from that chapter in my life. My love for James and Lily has never faltered, I just needed to take a step back and disassociate the inspiration from James, the character. I'm now happy to announce that I'm back and I feel as if my writing has improved significantly, so it's a win-win for everyone, if anyone is still interested in reading this story!

Without further ado, here is the 17th chapter!

CRAVE

I stalked off into the Entrance Hall, feeling as if my skin were up in flames. Potter left me steaming mad and I had no desire to return to our dormitories to see his sorry face.

My mother's letter burned in the pocket of my robes, it was hard to ignore. I wanted to tear it up into a million little pieces but I resisted my wrath's inclinations. I couldn't believe she was forcing me to go to Tuney's wedding. On top of that, she insisted I bring a date. It felt like extortion. What did I owe Petunia? I had no choice in the matter by the fact of being her sister. What the hell was the point of me attending something I didn't condone? My mother's logic was well out of order. I couldn't believe that the woman who brought me into this world was pressuring me into bringing a date to the tragic affair. As if it wasn't already tortuous that I had to bear witness to such a travesty but I had to bring some poor bloke to witness, too. Where was her humanity? I felt utterly betrayed by my own flesh and blood. How could she be so insensitive towards my situation? It's like she had been living under a rock, completely unaware of the conflict between her daughters.

What bothered me even more than all that was that she had the audacity to lie and say Tuney missed me. Godric, what a load of shit! I understood that she desperately wanted the two of us to put our differences aside. Regardless, I did not see how it was necessary to stir the pot. I never had an issue with Tuney, it was all her. It wasn't fair that Mum insisted that I be the one to turn the other cheek.

I wanted to scream so badly and I was internally doing so. If I released it out loud, the echo would carry throughout the Grand Staircase and the Great Hall. The last thing I wanted was any more unnecessary attention. I mustered enough will power to hold everything in.

My family issues weren't the only problem at hand, though. Stupid Potter always had to stick his nose into places where it didn't belong. Good, Godric. It was a tie between the letter and Potter's insolence that pissed me off more.

A sigh took ahold of me, as I was pacing back and forth. Such was the only means of calming myself down and forgetting the whole ordeal. There was no point letting my anger consume me the way that it was. There was nothing I could do about either scenario at the moment – I had to suck it up to the best of my ability. The Head Girl couldn't be seen foaming at the mouth. What example would I be setting? After several moments, I managed to tame the beast within. I swiftly spun and marched out of the Entrance Hall while trying to ignore the infernos of fury I had blazing within the confinement of my chest.

Lo and behold, I saw Marlene trekking along. Perhaps a higher power offered her to me in hopes to distract me from all the bullshit. I paid thanks to the universe silently when she caught my eye and approached me, looking a tad disenchanted.

"Alright, Licky? Someone doesn't look all that happy." She remarked.

"I could say the same about you. How goes it?" I asked, unwilling to discuss what had happened a short time ago. I couldn't pay it any more consideration, for my sanity's sake.

"It goes fine, I guess. I just bumped into Black." She informed me.

"And?" I egged her on, but judging my her tone I had an inkling I wouldn't hear anything positive come out of her mouth.

"He can go to hell, for all I care." She grumbled out, as my intuition anticipated.

"Did you speak?" I asked, while my voice resonated hopeful. She scoffed at my question in such a way that it must have been an unintelligent one.

"No, we hate each other." The matter-of-fact tone she put to use rubbed me the wrong way.

"Oh, come off it. You know you don't hate him." I could see right through the act and I wasn't afraid to tell her.

"I'm quite positive I do," The sarcasm was strong in this one. She continued on, ignoring the eye-roll I deliberately made aside.

"He glared at me and I glared back. If looks could kill –" Marlene stopped short. She didn't finish her sentence, nor was it necessary that she did. Simply, Marlene shook her head and clicked her tongue as a point to display her repugnance toward the self-proclaimed; Padfoot.

"You can't find it in your heart to get over what happened at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Why the – bloody hell – should I? He punched Aidan in the face for no reason!"

"I wouldn't say it was for no reason." I murmured in a low voice but loud enough for her to hear.

"Of course, you wouldn't. You have to defend your new best friends, right?" She asked but wasn't looking for an answer. I pulled back as if I had been slapped. I was downright confused as to why she was so bitter towards my association with The Marauders. She was their friend at one point and she didn't care at all that I didn't like them, at said time. Did I ever make it an issue between us? The answer was no. Maybe I would make the occasional dig, but other than that, I never stopped her from being friends with anyone.

"Why do you keep saying that?" I had to get to the bottom of this.

"Is it not true?"

"I've grown to like the Marauders, yes. I don't see why it's an issue."

"It's not an issue. You can't expect me to like them just because you do now, all of the sudden, might I add. Once upon a time, you thought that it was ridiculous that they even called themselves that. Now, look at you. Do you call them by their stupid nicknames, too?"

"That's really besides the point. Forgive me for having a change in heart. You liked them just fine when I didn't like them. Did I ever throw a hissy fit?"

"No, and I'm not, either." She swerved back with that, but I noiselessly disagreed with that one. She was being childish.

"Okay, take a minute and relax. You're ready to bite my head off, over what? I'm just trying to shed some light on the situation. I don't understand why you're pretending to hate Sirius and Sirius is pretending to hate you. Is it really because you both got your feelings hurt and don't know how else to deal with it?"

"There's no pretending involved."

"Give me a break. You both need to get over your pride."

"What do you want me to say, Licky? I'm not going to make amends with that prick. He doesn't deserve my friendship."

"I don't think its friendship that he's after."

"You're right. We were never friends to begin with. So, what does it matter?"

"C'mon, you know you fancy him and you know he fancies you. Be mature and hash it out like a couple of grown-ups."

"Oh, yeah? How do you know he fancies me?" She pried. I opened my mouth to blurt out the truth, but I quickly stopped myself. I was so close in revealing what Sirius told me himself, the fact that he does fancy her. I was so very close; I emitted a noise to start divulging but stopped myself in a hurry. Marlene turned her head to the side and waited for me to say something worthwhile.

I thought about it carefully for a second. I promised Sirius I wouldn't go blabbing what he told me that night. There was an overwhelming urge to break faith and plainly tell Marlene everything he said, but I had more integrity than that. Sure, it would clear up any confusion that Marlene harbored toward him, but I couldn't bring myself to sell him out. I recollected how hard it was for him to admit it to me in the lowest whisper.

Marlene lifted her brows as a gesture for me to spit out whatever was spewing in my head. My conscience played devil's advocate and reminded me that Marlene was my best friend, not Sirius. It told me that she deserved to know the truth and I should remain loyal in her favor, not Sirius'. It was really hard keeping it from her. The tidbit of information could serve to be the solution to all their problems.

Another part of me chirped into the mental conversation, recommending that I keep my mouth shut about the tribulation between them. Sirius was the only person who knew about Potter and I secretly hooking up. It would be idiotic to step on his toes when he had something on me.

I grasped for words in my vocabulary to demolish the skeptical expression painted across Marlene's face. When I couldn't find the right thing to say, Marlene went on in the hope of stirring something out of me, I could just tell.

"You and Black having heart-to-heart's that I don't know about?" Her statement pulled me out of the depths of my thoughts.

"No, It's just a hunch, I can tell. You both like each other, so, what's the use of all this drama? You're just too stubborn to admit you fancy him." My explanation left her crabby. I braced myself for her diatribe.

"You're completely mental, Licky. I don't feel anything towards him. And another thing, he doesn't feel anything towards me! I'm quite sure he is incapable of feeling anything for anyone! He only cares about himself and his bloody Marauders." She fired off into a rant. I tried to stop her from going on.

"That's not true," She cut me off before I could attempt to argue with her any further.

"Oh, right! He also cares about getting his prick wet with the next bird! How could I forget?" She said, blissfully unaware of how clearly bitter she sounded while saying it. Was she really that lost in denial?

"If you don't have any feelings toward him, how come you're always mad at him?" I posed the question, which added fuel to the fire of our conversation.

"Are you taking the piss? I'm always mad at him because he pisses me off constantly! It doesn't mean I fancy him!" She stated, folding her arms over her chest mid-dispute.

"You're not fooling anyone, Marley. It's so blatantly obvious to everyone except you two!" I said. She didn't like my choice of words, not one bit.

"Your logic makes absolutely no sense! You're always mad at Potter, does that mean you fancy him?" She threw the question in out of nowhere and stumped me.

"I – What? – No – Th – That isn't remotely relative to what we're talking about here," I couldn't deny that I was flabbergasted by what she said. Sure, I was mad at Potter everlastingly. A reason wasn't necessary towards that concept. He was simply Potter, nothing more, anger was a logical reaction to his insolence. What answer was she looking for?

"You just said that I must be in love with Black because I'm mad at him all the time, how is that any different to your situation with ol' Head boy?" She sounded like a lawyer, coming to that deduction with a flavor of confidence in her convictions.

"Have you met Potter?" I asked her in a rhetorical manner.

"He invests time into getting under my skin! If it seems like I'm mad at him all the time, it's only because he makes me mad at him, all the time!" My attempt to defend my position sounded slightly feeble, but there wasn't much time to prepare a response that sounded indisputable. It really caught me off guard. We were talking about her and Sirius, not Potter and I.

"Exactly, the same thing applies here," She breathed out an exasperated sound and I couldn't find a justification to that assessment. I let it go and tried to steer the attention back to the main topic of our conversation. I wasn't going to let her deflect the matter at hand.

"Okay, fair enough." I said in a low voice. Her mouth resembled a version of the letter v that had been turned upside down. If she kept her face like that for too long, I figured it would stay stuck like that. It was almost laughable but I continued on.

"Regardless, you wouldn't be bitter over him seeing other girls if you didn't feel anything for him!" I stated, I didn't think it gave her much room to debate on the notion. She arched a brow and looked down on me, a look that screamed that I had said some hypocritical.

"Weren't you all pissy over Potter spending time with Rosie Cummings?" She asked within some sort of utterance that sounded like a scoff. She was starting to get on my nerves.

"What is your problem?" I snapped. She didn't flinch or anything. She just glared at me like I was Sirius in the flesh before her.

"Stop trying to make this about James! You're deflecting!"

"I'm simply putting things into perspective, so that you can understand where I'm coming from," She said within a condescending tone. She went on:

"Since you're obviously too ignorant to see things clearly by yourself."

"I didn't get pissy over him hanging about with Rosie, okay?" My patience was running thin. She laughed at me.

"That's a load of hippogriff shit!"

"It is not!"

"It is, so." Marlene countered. Her words got to me. I was already mad about what happened earlier. I was hoping our encounter would make me forget about it. It only made me feel worse. What was her deal with James and I? She was so desperate to avoid admitting her feelings, she had to make it all about me and I was beginning to lose it.

"Listen to yourself, you're talking nonsense! I was annoyed about her being in our dormitories, constantly giggling in that stupid high pitch laugh! Oh, did I fail to mention that I heard her talking about me?" I asked, getting more heated by the second. Marlene seemed surprised by this.

"You did?" She asked, the frown off her face disappearing in an instant.

"Yes . . . well, actually . . . I'm not exactly sure it was her, I mean - it had to be!" I flubbed up on my words but the point was made, nonetheless. Marlene uncrossed her arms, becoming more intrigued.

"What did she say?"

"She was telling her friend that I'm stuck up, I try too hard, and that I think I own the school. The nerve of her . . . Oh, and she said I'm destined to be a virgin for life! Can you believe that?" I asked her, expecting her to be just as appalled as I was. She shifted her weight from one foot to another and avoided my eyes.

"Well-" She said after a pregnant pause.

"Pardon me?" I asked, leaning in toward her in a predacious manner. Marlene retrieved her limp arms from her sides and pushed her hands into the space between us.

"Hey, don't get mad at me, I'm just saying."

"Saying what, exactly?" I was looking for a response but I knew I would not be happy with whatever she had to say. She rolled her eyes, irritated that I was poking her to go on.

"It's not like she's way off-base. You give off that impression, don't act like you don't." She said. This was shocking to me, especially by how easily she said it.

"I give off the impression that I own Hogwarts and that I'm a perpetual prude?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" She asked, a grimace returning on her face. Her sentence felt like a slap in the face.

"You're so rude," I didn't know what else to say other than that. She was exactly that and it had to be said.

"How am I rude? I'm not going to lie to your face to spare your feelings. Stop being so sensitive over every little thing!" She huffed and puffed and blew me away with her impudence. I stared at her with my mouth agape. I couldn't believe she was saying all of this out of nowhere.

"My apologies, I was under the impression that you're supposedly my best friend!" The sarcasm that leaked through my remark evidently irked the living hell out of her. She sniffed loudly, as if I had gone completely mad.

"I wasn't informed that I had to forgo honesty in order to be your best friend!" She stated, shaking her head at me. I was becoming more aggravated at her every subtle gesture. The beast within was bloody thirsty.

"Okay, next time somebody speaks ill of you, I'll just agree with them. Sound fair? And you say my logic is fucked up." I snorted, purposely trying to provoke her.

"You don't even know if it was Rosie who said all of that, you're getting your knickers in a twist over petty rubbish!" Her quick replies had me strung up in stupefaction. I pursed my lips together into a tight line while she stared at me hard. She was waiting for me to fire back.

"It was obviously Rosie. I'm not an idiot." I muttered, feeling slightly conquered by her patronizing speech.

"That is open to question." She launched another disdainful quip.

"Alright, don't ever come to me begging for help with your homework. I'm not sure why you would need help from a prescribed idiot." By saying that, I hoped she would back-pedal and realize how unnecessary our row had become. Who else would she mooch notes from? I wasn't sure why I expected her to be mature, she took it even further than I expected and started off into a lame impression of me.

"Oh, look at me! I'm Lily – fucking – Evans! A straight O student! I'm so smart! It's such a shame that I lack common sense!" She flailed her arms above her head like a frightened bird and squawked in shrill, demented voice.

"Good one." I mocked her imitation, glowering into her eyes as she did into mine. I could have easily spun off and started making fun of her, but I preserved a sense of composure. We were in a public setting, after all.

"Do you ever stop and listen to how self-absorbed you sound? You make my ears bleed, for Godric Gryffindor's sake." She retorted, putting both hands over her ears and stared up at the ceiling. This was getting beyond ridiculous.

"What the hell are you talking about? We were clearly talking about your issues before you decided to change the subject." I thought that much was crystal clear. Leave it to Marlene to completely dodge the exchange.

"Give over, Lily." She spat, giving zero fucks toward the people who passed on by giving us strange looks. I didn't care what they heard; she was driving me to the point of no return.

"You've been such a bitch to me lately and I have no idea why. I've put up with it long enough. I'm not going to sit here and listen to this!" I had to stand up for myself, much to her dismay. She rolled her eyes again at me. She truly perfected the art of rolling one's eyes. It made me see red every single time.

"What a surprise, Lily Evans can't take any criticism." She said inside a sardonic sound quality. I began to tremble from indignation. Fighting like this always made me vibrate in a peculiar way. I had my hands balled up into fists and she made me want to use them.

"Did you not just turn everything around on me solely because I was saying something you didn't want to hear? It's not my fault you can't face the fact that you're in love with Sirius." It all came out so fast that I forgot there were still people around what I had said, it erupted gasps between by-passers, stopping abruptly to watch the show. Marlene looked positively livid that I had said that for everyone to hear.

"I'm not – fucking – in love with Sirius! When are you going to get that through your head?" She shouted. Chatter dispersed across the audience by her outburst. I was much too wound up to care at that point.

"Whatever you say, Marley. It's your world, I'm just living in it." I said dismissively.

"Wait a minute, I'm confused. Did we not just establish that you own the school and that anyone who doesn't worship at your feet is obviously vile and evil?" Her response had the students stitched up in giggles, which infuriated me even more.

"Oh, how impolite I must be to hate a girl who antagonizes me." I said low enough for her ears only. I didn't want anyone to know I was talking about Rosie or have it go back to her. She was irrelevant to me and I had no inclination to speak to her over said nonsense.

"Are you ever going to stop victimizing yourself in every conceivable situation? It's getting old, let me tell you." She snapped back instantaneously.

"When don't you say that? You're always on my case over something stupid." That much I felt was true. She was incessantly harping me, no matter what the issue was. Marlene scoped her shoulders to eye up the small scrabble of spectators that emerged around us.

"You really want to know why I'm always on your case? I'll tell you why. It's because you're a pretentious snob! I'm doing you a favor by taking you down a peg." Her volume was blaring and it had the throng entertained to be included.

"Really?" It was all I could assemble as a response. I expected people who didn't know me to think that way, but Marley? My, so-called, best friend?

"Yes, really. What part did you miss?" She asked and students were ready to laugh automatically, no matter what she came up with.

"You know what? You're always in a mood. For a slut, it sure sounds like you need to get laid!" It came out of me without permission; I was so riled up and frantic to hurt her like she had hurt me, it came tumbling out of me like an avalanche. Her jaw dropped at my choice of slur. To make matters worse, the laughing that followed did nothing to soften the blow I hit her with. She looked around again, embarrassed by the chortling that surrounded the two of us. Marlene swung her body back in my direction and replied with:

"At least I can get laid!" She said with a triumph in her tone. I could hear people 'Ooh!' and 'Aah!' at her comeback.

"Go fuck yourself!" I shouted back. She laughed when my voice cracked with emotion embedded in my abusive remark.

"Take your own advice, you stupid prude!"

"I'm done with you! Find someone else to take your shit out on."

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Great!"

And that was that. I whirled around so fast I nearly fell over. I stomped up the staircase, overwrought by the entire experience. I didn't bother to see if Marlene remained in the same spot, I was wretched by the exchange of blows and I needed to flee from it. It didn't feel real. I kept asking myself, did that really just happen? It seemed like something out of a movie. I couldn't wrap my head around it. Tears welled up in my eyes and I fought them back into my skull. I couldn't let myself cry, not with people around to witness the sight.

The dreaded hour came without my consent. I had a lot of time to calm down by then. My row with Potter and the second one with Marlene left me fuming and livid, but I managed to simmer down when he came by my door to get me. Still, I couldn't understand how it turned so violent. All I was trying to do was help her.

"Let's go," James Potter ordered and brought me out of my head and back into reality. He sounded similarly to a drill-sergeant. He leaned against the frame of the door and waited, looking rather impatient. His head was locked in position so that his focus steered in another direction. He trained his eyes to stare through my very being at the furthest wall from the entrance of my room. I gathered myself and met him in the opening space but he didn't bother to meet eyes with me. His hazel eyes resembled hollow holes on his face and I felt myself being sucked into their obscurity. James sighed in a dramatic fashion and swept his figure up into a lanky stance. A gust of air breezed out of him through his gritted teeth, as if everything else he projected was too scarce in portraying his utter exasperation. I wondered what the point was to his behavior. If anyone had reason to be exasperated, I granted it was myself. No matter, James Potter always had a way of making himself a victim in a situation where he did wrong. I speculated how we would survive patrol if he kept up the act. One thing that I knew was for sure was that it would be a long night, indeed.

Despite the fact I managed to unwind after our previous argument, I was starting to get riled up again by his very presence and the fact that his very presence was riling me up once again. I was mad at myself for allowing him to get under my skin. After all, I had dealt with this sort of treatment by him on numerous occasions, I should have been used to it by now. He always got moody after one of our fights; it was practically a routine he followed. If I scolded him too harshly, he would go into sulk mode. I, however, did not find that I scolded him too harshly, considering what he did. Nonetheless, he gave me the cold shoulder. I found it rather funny. It's as if he thought I enjoyed talking to him, or something.

Potter continued on pretending to be cold and quiet as we trudged through the portrait, down the spiralling staircase and in and out of the corridors. Cold and quiet were not adjectives anyone would describe him as, but he proceeded with the performance. Sulk mode would commence each time we got in an argument more heated than our usual squabbles. His choice in vengeance was a downright joke to me. The cold shoulder was a blessing from the heavens above. If I could laugh aloud, I would have. Even so, I would not give him the satisfaction of speaking next. I was half-amused and half-maddened by his quietness, that which I could not deny to myself but I could evoke externally. Did he honestly think that I enjoyed his yammering and teasing? What an absolute daft prick. The sod actually thought shutting me out would affect me! Well, it wasn't going to work. Not if my life depended on it. The silence did not bother me. Nope. Not even slightly. I was more bothered by the fact I never mustered up a method to counter his silence. There was an uncomfortable amount of tension caused by his lack of words, that's the only thing that truly bothered me. One would think after all these years I would have thought of a way to handle it. In the face of his immaturity, I claimed the same manner he displayed. Two could play at that game.

And so, that's how we played it. I was just as quiet as he was and off we went to explore empty corridors with an evident stillness to accompany us. He couldn't have maneuvered himself any further away from me if he tried. The left side of the hall belonged to me and he claimed the right. We strolled onward with absolutely nothing to say. James tried his best to act nonchalant about the entire thing; but I knew it must have been a struggle to keep his big mouth shut for that long. I know the prick loves to hear the sound of his own voice, so it was probably more tortuous for him than it was for me. How could he act like it was normal to be as quiet as he was? How could he try and convince me that it was normal to not say anything else to me other than 'let's go'? Did he really think I would not notice how his eyes saw straight through me and focused on something else or was it all intentional? It had to be. He had to make a point, just like he always had to.

My discomfort became hard to ignore. I felt like a ghost haunting him and it was beginning to be too much to bear. I decided then, that if he wanted to pretend I was invisible, I would let him. It didn't bother me. Not even a little bit. I was just getting restless from the boredom. I began to breathe mechanically after concentrating too attentively on the way I would inhale and exhale. If I didn't consciously draw breath, I felt myself rigid and tense. I had to distract myself. I scrolled my eyes like rolling spheres, inspecting all that the empty corridors had to offer. Considering that they were empty, this did little to divert my attention from these complications. There was a tug in my throat that made me swallow every ten seconds. I tried to stop it but it was tiresome and made my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth. All signs pointed to the fact that I was losing the battle here. As much as I told myself I did not care, I was evidently bothered by our lack of conversation and the lack of noise entirely. My ears fed into the only sound present, that of the weight of feet coupling with our steps as we moved along. My blank mind betrayed me; enabling the tension to swallow me up. I did not want to cave and I had to do whatever I could to resist falling for his trap. I had to do whatever I could to keep my head up from going under, just until patrol was over. The thought of climbing back into bed provided some ease. Thinking about getting into my pyjamas, nestling into my blankets and sinking into my fortress of goose-feathered pillows gave me some strength to erect in my posture. It was the light at the end of the tunnel; it was the only thing that kept me from blowing up at him. It wouldn't be long now.

Potter could go screw himself. How could he act like I did something wrong here? He was the one who stole my letter, my private letter, let's not forget. He just had to go and read it. I forgot that manners didn't exist in the Pureblood world, how foolish of me. Everything was a bloody joke to him. I questioned if he could he be serious about anything at all. It was a question that came up relentlessly in the timeline that I knew him. He ignored everything my mother said about Petunia and Vernon and insists on being my date. The nerve of him! How insensitive could he get? I knew that he was clueless but this really took the cake. He had zero sympathy for me and it showed. I wasn't even sure why I was so surprised by it all. Of course James Potter only cared about what catered to his self-interest. The bloke has absolutely no idea what I have gone through back at home. How does he think I feel being labeled the freak of the family? He feels the need to barge into my business and not care at all…this is bloody stupid. Why do I care?

The bastard cleared his throat. It was the first noise he made in ten minutes. My blood was bubbling. I knew I was capable of exploding at any minute but I practiced my calmness. Something I had skilled during the era of the Marauder's tirades against me. Five minutes later, I managed to steady my composure in the tempo of my breath. I had to hand it to him. He was just as stubborn as I was. Fifteen whole minutes walking beside one another like the other didn't exist and he seemed perfectly content with everything. I prayed that I appeared just as indifferent towards the whole situation. Silence was a weight sitting upon my chest. The immaturity began to become blatantly obvious; it was the elephant in the corridors.

No one really knew about it, but the whole reason why I held my role as Head Girl close to my ego was because of the way things were back home. I got the position all on my own, despite the class of blood that ran through my veins, which seemed to trouble many. I earned Head Girl, Dumbledore saw me fit, despite of my blood status. It felt like I was finally recognized for my hard work. Out of all the girls that could have been here, the responsibility was rewarded to me and I was happy. I felt special. I didn't feel like a freak anymore.

Then, I had to find out the Head boy position was given to Potter. The feeling of accomplishment disappeared almost immediately after finding that one out. Of all the boys in seventh year, Dumbledore tossed the role carelessly into James Potter's hands, that which were never prefect hands. James Potter, whom terrorized students on a day-to-day basis, had more power than any other student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was like a cosmic joke. How was that fair? He threw the rulebook out the window on the first day of first year. He never followed the rules, they weren't even rules to him in the first place; he saw them as challenges. The privileged pure blood prick that had everything got my dream, too. Without lifting a finger, Potter took it from me.

What did Dumbledore see fit in James Potter, anyway? I racked my brain to decode the puzzle. Of course, as much as I despised him, I could not pretend to be blind to the roles he played. He had many titles: Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, a straight-O student, the pranking king, and the slick ladies' man. Did those labels surpass my labours? I never knew of this world and had to come so far on my own, here. I never had the loyalties he had. Sev kept me away from making friends in my beginnings at Hogwarts. I always knew the common saying rang true, that life wasn't fair. Still, the wounds of the injustice were never able to heal. It felt frequent, stinging pain, a piece of me that infected the rest. It remained in my subconscious, waiting to be picked up again. I wanted to be the perfect student. I wanted to prove my worth in the wizarding world, even if I was a freak. I would be the most proficient freak. I wanted to prove that my blood status never hindered me from reaching my goals. I thought I was on the right track. I thought I did everything right.

It felt like a kick in the teeth when the privileged pure blood bully stumbled upon the responsibility I yearned for and worked for. My loathing for him resided there the most. It was never the idiotic nicknames or the tormenting through our youths. I didn't hate him for picking on Severus over and over. Sure, I thought he was a good-for-nothing, but I could never stem hatred from the circumstances. He just always had it all. He had everything he could ask for. He always seemed happier than I was, than I could ever be. He had friendships strong as concrete and blood pure as snow. He had wealth and free spirited, generous parents. I could not count the nights I stayed up all night, wondering if my parents ever felt how Tuney does. Were they ever ashamed of having a daughter like me?

He had found brothers. I had a sister who denied being mine. He offered minimum effort and sat at the top of our classes with me. It felt exhausting trying to trump him. Good had to overpower evil, I consciously reminded myself. Hard working and earnest people should be rewarded for their labors. It wasn't ever like that, though. I thought it was but I, Lily Evans, was wrong. James Potter was effortlessly better than me in every category, or, so it felt like. He could cast a patronus before me; A stag to better my doe. And he could fly circles around me. I was jealous. The confession was locked up in the vault. The truth manifested within but never came out. I wanted what he had. I always had. His lack of humbleness strengthened my loathing. He was a walking reminder that nice guys finish last. My thoughts were swirling. If I was a pot on a stove, I was about ready to boil over.

"Heard you got into a little spat with McKinnon." He broke the silence. I couldn't believe it but was so thankful it was he, and not I. I was about ready to break.

"What's it to you, Potter?" I asked, sounding completely disinviting.

"Well, word on the street is it was about Sirius and I?" He was attempting to worm out a confirmation from me. I laughed in scorn. Godric Gryffindor, gossip sure did travel fast at Hogwarts, especially when it involved my name. Somehow, Potter's name was fastened with mine, every single time.

"It had nothing to do with you. Get over yourself already." I said, closing my eyes only so that I did not detonate like a bomb.

"Pray tell, Evans. You're withholding information." He poked at me without interruption. Could he not see how much he was infuriating me? The bloke was absolutely clueless. Clueless was an understatement.

"I'm finished being Marlene's friend, that is that. It's none of your business, anyway." I said, stalking onward trying to remain somewhat cool and collected. It was not an easy task.

"Sounds a bit rash to me. She's your best friend. Just go on and make up." He advised, as if I gave a damn what his opinion was on the circumstance.

"Why should I go fix things with her? All I was trying to do was help her. Does she appreciate anything I do for her? No, she doesn't. I don't see why I need to give her the benefit of the doubt. She's too difficult to deal with. I'm over it." I said I was over it but I really wasn't at all. Nevertheless, no one had to know that.

"You know you're no walk in the park either, Evans. You're quite difficult to deal with. I know from experience." He put a hand to his chest. I couldn't really tell whether he was trying to be humorous to lighten the tension or treating me with disdain. He was hard to read, at times.

"That's great, Potter. I don't give a shit." I summed to him. It didn't stop him from going on further.

"Touchy, touchy. Must be super difficult dealing with someone just as difficult as yourself, innit?" I caught on that he was actually speaking to me all supercilious. Was he asking me to explode at him? It was like the prick had a death wish.

"I swear to Godric, Potter, if you don't shut up in five seconds, I'm going to lose it." I thought I would give him fair warning.

"You act like I'm not used to it." He derided.

"I can do this by myself. Go on back." I ordered. I wanted to throw myself off the ledge of the moving staircases for admitting defeat. All my overthinking got the best of me, as it usually did. He shifted his head to look at me. I could see through my peripheral vision him check me up and down before responding.

"It's fine, Evans."

"No, it's not fine. Go on back, I don't need your help." I spat out. I waited for him to turn in the opposite direction, however, he continued walking. I don't know why I thought he would listen to me. He never does. Again, I was livid and my wrath began to speak for me.

"Are you deaf? Go back, I don't want anything to do with you. Your assistance is not needed." I had to admit, I sounded like a raging bitch. I couldn't care less, though. I was determined to get him away from me. His very presence was driving me nuts, even though it was actually my negative mindset towards him and the events of the day that was causing me to blow up in this way. I stopped in my tracks and so did he. I stared at him stonily. He didn't break contact for a while and there was a restless itchy feeling under my skin the longer he did.

"I am so sick and tired of this act you pull." He finally said something with merit but it did not help our case at hand. It only made me madder. But in all honesty, there wasn't anything he could possibly say to make me less mad.

"Act?" I implored for him to go on further, surprised by how bitter his tone was. If anyone had the right to be bitter, it was certainly I.

"Yes, this act. The one where you act like you hate me and that I'm beneath you." The way he responded sounded utterly condescending. There was obviousness in his diction that forced my hackles up.

"It's not an act," I snorted. It was laughable that he thought it was an act.

"So, do you screw all the blokes you hate?" His reply was like a figurative whip that slashed me by surprise. I did not expect that from him, nor did I expect its swiftness or intensity. It's like he had it ready for me, with his finger on the trigger. It took me a moment to put myself together again before I could speak.

"Fuck you!" It was a knee-jerk response and it was all that I had to counter with.

"You already did." A second lash left critical damage. I was not prepared for his comeback. By then, I didn't need to assemble my thoughts. My thoughts were made audible and they bombarded him from where he stood. I whirled in front of his path and stopped him in his tracks.

"I don't know what – the hell – your – bloody – problem is! You read my letter and you think you have a right to be cruel?" My voice cracked and all of my emotions spilled out of me as I jabbed a finger into his chest. He turned his head again, refusing to look at me.

"It may be hard for someone as dense as you to understand, but you give me every reason to hate you!" I was desperate to try to hurt him but he didn't seem affected by my words. He kept his gaze off me and shook his head. He had a smile on his face but I knew he wasn't happy, either. He shook his head in disbelief. I wasn't finished.

"On top of that, you give everyone reason to think that you are beneath them."

"You hate me. You hate me. You hate me." He repeated over and over. I resisted the urge to pull out my wand and use an unforgivable curse. He didn't make it easy.

"You can say it as much as you want, Evans, doesn't make it any more true repeating it over." He finished off, smirking at me with that familiar smirk.

"Your ego is imperishable." I said, taking a step back, astonished by his ignorance. He scoffed loudly, as if what I said made no sense. He took a step towards me as I backed up.

"Haven't you noticed you only take your anger out on me?" He asked.

"I do not!" I followed up. Considering I exploded at Marlene right after my interaction with the arrogant toe rag earlier today, I felt right to say so. Nonetheless, he was moronic to think that I took my anger out on anyone. How was anything that happened today my fault? He stopped dead in his tracks.

"You're joking." It wasn't a question. "You're actually delusional."

"I don't take my anger out on you – or anybody!"

"Yes, you do! You take it out on me every single time. Every. Single. Time."

"So, what if I do? You deserve it. I wouldn't take my anger out on you if you didn't make me angry in the first place. Get some sense in your head!" I folded my arms over my chest. Our fight felt like a re-run episode I've already seen before.

"Granted, you had a right to be mad about the letter thing. I was just goofing around, trying to make light of things. It's stupid, now that I look back on it. I apologize for that. I didn't respect your privacy." He started on with the fake apologies. I wanted to tune him out but there was no use.

"I'll admit, I was insensitive. I should've asked and seen if you were okay after reading all that." He seemed sympathetic, but it was too little, too late.

"Oh, now you clue in . . ." I replied with utter detachment toward the foul creature, informally known as Prongs. His apology didn't mean shit to me.

"For the most part, I am there for you. You fail to notice that I do care and that I try to be there for you, you just so happen to push me away every time I try. Intentionally or not. It's only natural that if you keep pushing me away like the way you incessantly do, I'm going to back off. I make an effort and what do I get in return? Oh, that's right…you treat me like shit! I don't know why the hell I bother!"

"Yeah, me either." I laughed. He stared at me, and then slowly moved closer. As James walked forward, he squared his shoulders.

"So, that's what you want? We'll go on and pretend like we haven't shagged?"

"I'd prefer to."

"I don't get it, Evans. If you hate me as much as you claim, why would you lose your virginity to me?"

"You said you'd leave me alone if I did. Did you? No. You didn't. I'm stuck living with you until Seventh year is over and we've graduated."

"Are you hell-bent on burning all of your bridges today? First, Marlene and now, me? If you really want nothing to do with me, then fine. Have it your way." He threw his hands up in the air and then turned to stalk off in the other direction. Regret seized a hold of me but I stayed quiet and in place where I was. After taking about five steps, Potter paused. He dropped one of his arms while the other closed his hand into a fist, then pointed out his index finger. He shook it about before turning back around to face me.

"I have one thing to say, though. After that, we don't ever have to talk again. I can go live back with the boys and you can do whatever you want. We'll handle our duties as Heads, but other than that, I'll leave you be, like you so desperately desire." He wagered, dropping his hand as he did, to display how conclusive he was about all of this. I didn't know what to say.

"Let me just say this one thing." He said. I didn't say a thing, I let him have the floor.

"I actually really fancied you, Evans. You think the worst of me but I never saw shagging you as a goal. It was never my intention to steal your virginity, or whatever people tell you." He said with an eery calm to his voice. His words had me paralyzed. I didn't know if I wanted to hear the rest, but there was no stopping him now.

"I know I haven't been the best bloke in the past, but I have changed. I didn't pursue you so I could say I finally bagged Lily Evans. None of that shit matters to me. I'm not this monster you make me out to be. Maybe I was before, but I've grown up. I thought you'd see that by now." The last sentence oozed with disappointment.

"Whatever. Like you said, a deal is a deal. I promised I would leave you alone after the whole arrangement, so I will. I'm a man of my word. We can do patrol separately. I'll take the West Wing. Tomorrow, I'll move out of the Head Dormitories and you'll never hear from me again, just like we promised, just like you wanted." He turned on his feet and walked down the corridor from which we came. Something possessed me to call after him.

"James!" I shouted, loud enough to wake the entire castle. He stopped in his tracks again, but didn't turn around.

"I. . ." I was a loss of words, which rarely happened to me. I just knew deep down in my heart I didn't want what he thought I wanted. I was so reluctant to admit it to him and myself. As much as he drove me mad, I didn't want what we had to end. I didn't want him to live anywhere else than with me. I didn't want anyone else driving me up the wall crazy than him. For some strange reason, Sirius and Marlene came to mind. Our situations paralleled with another. Both his and her pride forged such a great gap between them. I felt weak having the feelings that I had for James, such compassions I had for him felt as if I betrayed my past self and all her convictions in hating him. My ego was trying so hard to keep such certainty sustainable, but it only served hurt.

"I don't want that." I lamely said. For someone considered so articulate by many, when it came to exposing my feelings and emotions, I couldn't express anything. Why was I like this? Why was it even worse around Potter?

"You don't want, what?" He asked without turning around.

"I don't want to lose you." That's all I could say. His back shifted, seeming to loosen out of its tensions. He turned around wearing a genuine look of sincerity. He came back to me slowly and I felt my heart racing as he did. What was it about him that made me so nervous?

"So, does that mean you're sorry for being a crazy person?" He asked in all his egotistical glory. I forced my eyes to stick onto his. His walking never faltered and I ended up having to step backward accordingly. Eventually, there were no more steps to take. My back bumped into the wall he lead me to. There was a catch of light in his eyes that told me he was victorious in his effort to physically tower over me. I answered sarcastically as I could, as an attempt to find some control over the scenario.

"That depends. . . are you sorry for driving me mad?" The playful question lead him straight into debate mode.

"Oh, I see. We're still going to act like everything is James Potter's fault!" He retorted in his usual class-clown fashion.

"Isn't it always your fault?"

"You know what –" His rant started with speed. Another row between James Potter and Lily Evans. The word 'typical' was prominent in my head. All was fine, though. It was one of those fights where we actually enjoyed going back and forth with another. It was almost like a game of ping-pong. I knew all too well how the routine would begin and finish. The matter relied on who craved the last word more. Such was a feat that was hard to determine, considering how the two of us were equally difficult and stubborn. As opposite as we were, that was one thing we could not deny having in common. I had some tricks up my sleeve, though. Like pretending as though I wasn't listening to a thing he had to say. Acting as if I was truly bored of his comebacks or I intentionally acted bored to piss him off further remained a mystery on which ruffled his feathers more. In the hype of it all, my ears picked up a presence that was not a part of our own.

"Quiet!" I tried cutting him off but he went on, as if it were part of the banter-game.

"And another thing – don't interrupt me when I'm talking!"

"Are you bloody stupid?"

"I must be to think that Lily Evans could have any respect for someone other than herself!"

"Can you be quiet? I hear something!" The tidbit of information actually shut his arse up for one second. He closed his mouth and we both held our breaths to listen to what was in the distance. There was a shuffling coming from the bottom of the stairs.

We stared at each other for a moment. I raised my brows as if to say I told you so. He nodded, allowing me this, at least. We both craned our necks over the railing. All the rage and tension seemed to evaporate as we listened intently. The shuffling turned to voices, but it was hard to make out what was being said. It was a confirmed fact there was more than one person out of bed, by the simple sound of scurrying steps. James took shelter in the unclaimed wall beside me to hide his figure. The muffled voices became clearer as they apparently got closer. The longer we remained in silence, the more distinct the voices became.

"Hurry – before anyone sees us!" One hissed to another.

"Shut up!" A voice replied. Two confirmed persons, I accounted like a detective.

"We're going to get caught…" A third voice said.

"We will if you don't shut up!" The owner of the second voice snapped.

"Relax, no one's around. They ought to be covering The West Wing right about now." A fourth voice estimated. I assumed 'they' meant Potter and I. The nerves in my stomach woke up. My muscles tensed as I continued to pretend to be invisible. I glanced back to see Potter above me, a hard expression painted across his face. He didn't look to see my reaction. He listened with potency.

"You're sure?" The third voice sounded shaky.

"Positive." I couldn't tell who was who when it came to that one. My ears tickled with a pain, overdosing in every sound made, eager to learn anything. My brain cramped in its skull, trying to match faces with voices. I could tell they were male and that they sounded familiar, I just couldn't match any faces to the voices.

"Tonight is our only chance." The fifth voice sounded the smoothest, like melted butter over popcorn. There was some sort of refinement imbedded in his tone. Again, very familiar. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

"Who are they? I know those voices!" I pestered James, perhaps a bit too loudly.

"What was that?" One of the voices below sounded off in shock. James quickly put his hand over my mouth. A wave of panic rushed over me. God damn it, I was about as stealthy as a rhinoceros in an antique shop. His wide eyes urged me to keep it together. I wanted to yell at him for touching me but it was hard with his hand clamped over my face. It was probably for my own good. We stood frozen and waited to hear more.

"You're hearing things. . ." One of the voices attested.

"I definitely heard something!"

"You're paranoid. I already told you, Potter and that Mudblood-slut aren't here! If we keep standing around, wasting time yapping, they'll probably catch us. Can we get a move on now?"

"Are you sure it's safe? I've never seen a werewolf before." One of them said all weary-like.

"Stop freaking out! We only have tonight to see for ourselves if Severus is right." The smooth voice advised to the panicker of the group. Werewolf? Severus? What were they on about? I looked at James to see his reaction towards all this.

"Fuck!" James cursed under his breath. He was so quiet in saying it that I knew he didn't want the troublemakers to hear it but it was almost as if he didn't want me to hear it, either. I looked up at him with furrowed brows. He finally noticed his hand still covering my mouth and let it drop. His forehead glistened in a sheet of sweat. I was beyond confused.

"Potter, what's going on?" I implored him for information. He shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. They're sneaking out. We have to stop them!" There was urgency in his voice that I usually never heard from him. He whirled passed me and began to book it down the stairs. I was surprised to see Potter take such intense initiative. Despite how much he drove me crazy, I followed after him just as frantic. He was right. They had to be stopped. For a second, I could understand Dumbledore's decision but I didn't feel the need to give him any more credit than that. He was still James Potter. And we were fighting just moments ago. He made sure his steps were swift and quiet and I mimicked his motions, trailing after him like his sidekick. Our feet prattled in unison, skipping the odd stair to make haste. There wasn't anyone around where the voices had come from, but James did not waste any time standing around wondering what direction they went. It's as if he knew exactly where they were heading. Something fishy was going on and I felt like I was the only one left out in the dark about it. Nonetheless, I followed his lead and decided I would ask questions later. We left the Grand Staircase in the dust behind us.

Like a bolt of lightning, James flashed through the Clock Tower Courtyard with speed, playing the role of the action star a little too well. Lost in awe at his endurance, I clambered hopelessly to catch up with him. With panting eagerness, the two of us streamed through the Courtyard straight for the Wooden Bridge. With all the talk about werewolves, I presumed the culprits were heading for the Forbidden Forest. My lurking suspicion grew due to the fact that it did not seem like James was leading us in that particular direction. So many questions swirled around in my head in the middle of all the hype. Why did he seem so panicked by the turn of events? What did he know that I didn't? From the sounds of the conversation we just eavesdropped on, it involved werewolves of all things! What did it all mean? Did Hagrid come into the possession of a werewolf? It was the only possible and logical explanation I could provide regarding what I just heard. Said logic supplied zero reassurance towards the state of affairs. My reason shattered. None of it really made sense at all. James was nothing but intrepid, racing between the constructed beams that extended through the bridge over its ravine and I had no other choice but to chase after him. In the distance, I could detect shadowed figures ahead, also rushing through the bridge, away from us. Potter reached into his robes and whipped out his wand all nimble-like. The move shocked me. Although our position as Heads gave us a sum of authority, we weren't actually permitted in hexing students.

"James!" I belted out to stop him. He didn't pay me any attention whatsoever. In a wink, James Potter readied his aim and flicked his wrist and the spell emitted out. A burst of crimson light eliminated the darkness ahead and clobbered one of the culprits.

AN: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review, let me know your thoughts on the chapter and if you think this story is worth continuing!