"Lily Had a Little Lamb"
Sub-Title: "Snogging Sheep"
By: Liebling
Published Date: 10 December 2005
One-Shot
Disclaimer: I don't own Lily, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Mother Goose, or the Mary that had a little lame. Don't sue. It's not nice.

Mary had a little lamb,
Little lamb,
Little lamb.
Mary had a little lamb,
Whose fleece was white as snow.

Everywhere that Mary went,
Mary went
Mary went,
Everywhere that Mary went,
The lamb was sure to go.

It followed her to school one day,
School one day,
School one day.
It followed her to school one day,
Which was against the rules.

It made the children laugh and play,
Laugh and play,
Laugh and play
It made the children laugh and play,
To see a lamb at school.

"POTTER!" I could hear a sudden scuttle of feet, and I knew that he was trying to make a quit get away.

Pfft, there is no escaping the Evans' temper. However, I was impressed at how he had completely leapt over the couch, two tables, and knocked out another two first years trying to get to the boys' staircase.

"Impedimenta!" I yelled quickly, whipping out my wand as I ran down the staircase.

His running became sluggishly slow and he didn't even make it past my favourite chair.

"Oh now he's done it," I heard Remus say.

Too right, I say.

I got a firm grip on the front of his robes and pulled him down my eye level. "Care to explain to me," I hissed, "just why I had to shovel my way out of bed this morning?"

The spell hadn't completely worn off of him yet; I could feel curious eyes looking at us.

Earlier this morning someone had charmed the windows open—how he managed it, I don't even want to know—and me and my dorm mates woke up to be over knee-deep in freshly fallen snow.

One poor girl, Alice, had rolled off her bed in shock and into the snow and…oh dear, what happened to her? I don't think I've seen her since…

James' face twitched; the spell was wearing off. Good.

"Well?" I said.

"I—uh—didn't, um, do it?"

"Well—uh—that sure, um, sounded like the, er, truth," I glared, still holding on to his robes.

"Chill, Evans," he said, smiling, (At this point Sirius Black, Potter's partner in crime, jumped up and yelled "PUN!"), gently pulling back his robes and drawing himself up to full height in all of his six-foot-tall glory.

Lucky bastard was a good five inches taller than me.

So my intimidation tactic was shot to hell…

"Just use a couple of banishing charms and everything will be cleared up!" he said.

Hmph. Tell that to my miffed pride.

I stormed off to do just as Potter suggested; not that'd I'd ever tell him that I did, mind you. But I didn't even make it to the staircase when he came after me.

"Hey, Evans—Lily, wait up a sec!" He made a reach for my arm, but I smartly snatched it away. "Will you go out with—?"

"Save yourself the shame, Prongs," Sirius called up to him, cutting my usually expected answer ("Hell no, you deluded ninny,") off.

He hesitated at the step, not that he would be able to climb up unless he had an immediate gender change. Which is actually not all that improbable. I really don't know him that well and…well, anyway, I was about four stairs above him.

"You look like a lost lamb the way you follow her," Sirius said and shook his head, "Where is the pride that put you in Gryffindor?"

James swelled up like an angry toad that had been stepped on.

Not that I would actually know if that were true, of course, because I don't go around stepping on toads but the implication still stands.

Potter's neck seemed to heat up and he went into his little huffy-puffy mode and sauntered off to the boys' dorms.

Good riddance, I say. I turned to finish walking up when Sirius, the bastard, placed one foot on the stairs I was currently climbing. The steps melted right beneath my feet and I slid down, most ungracefully, might I add, and landed back in the common room.

"Well it wouldn't be the first time a girl fell head over heels for me," he smirked, pulling me to my feet.

I bonked him over the head.

"Jackass,"

"I've missed you, too, dear," he grinned ignorantly, but rubbed his head, "Let's have a little chat, shall we, Lily-flower?" he said, motioning to the sofa.

"No,"

"Pleeeeeeease?"

"No,"

"I know you reeeeeeally want to,"

"No,"

"It's about Jaaaamsie,"

I paused.

My downfall…

"No," I said as quickly as I could, but it was too late…damn it!

Sirius was already grinning ear from ear, that pompous little—

"Do you think you could, I dunno..." said Remus beside him, fidgeting slightly, "give him a shot? He does genuinely seem to be rather keen on you,"

I scoffed. And Remus was supposed to be the smart one of their little group. The others have obviously brainwashed him.

Such a shame, he was rather good-looking, too.

"No," Brilliant range of vocabulary I've displayed, haven't it? I honestly felt like I was four years old again. I wrenched my arm and walked back up the newly reformed stairs.

"Suit yourself!" Sirius called up to me.

I ignored him and proceeded to my room so I could A, find Alice (I was getting rather worried about her disappearance), and B, get dressed. Not saying I was running around nude, of course, but I was rather cold after Emma stuffed that snowball down my shirt.

After that, I walked down to the Great Hall just like the rest of the world. But of course, unlike the rest of the world, I received a howler.

My first howler.

Oh, the shame…

They should honestly denounce my head girl position and brand me for life.

I had been piling my plate reasonably with bagels and cereal etc. etc…and it wasn't until that damn owl dropped me that letter did everything spiral out of control.

The envelope was dropped right into my oatmeal and slightly splattered my robes. Grimacing, I pulled it out and only then did I realize that it was bright red.

I nearly hyperventilated.

The sad thing is that I'm serious.

Me; a howler...I didn't think it was possible to use my name and that word in the same sentence, unless its "Lily's never had a howler in her life before today,"

It started smoking at the edges and Marla leaned over to have a look.

"Who sent it to you?" she asked confused.

"I-I don't know," I answered unsurely.

Oh god, Oh god, Oh god, Oh god, Oh god…why did everyone seem to go so quiet all of the sudden? Why is everybody staring at me? I didn't mean to do whatever I did or did not do! Stop with the staring!

"Lily!" Marla hissed, "If you don't open it it'll—!"

Too late.

It exploded.

In my face.

And covered it with smouldered ashes.

Oh how appealing I must have looked…

And then, the worst most possible thing that could've happened, happened. It began to sing.

"Lily had a little lamb,
Little lamb,
Little lamb.
Lily had a little lamb,
Whose hair was black as coal!"

I sat frozen in my place, completely mortified, as everyone turned to look at me. I recognised the voice immediately—Sirius Black, who I would have never suspected of ever knowing such horrendous rhyme.

I had come from a muggle family, so I was quite well aware of the nursery rhyme. Most of the purebloods were looking clueless, however. The wretched envelope continued:

"Everywhere that Lily went,
Lily went,
Lily went,
Everywhere that Lily went,
The lamb was sure to go!

It followed her to class one day,
Class one day,
Class one day.
It followed her to class one day,
Which was against the rules.

It made the Marauders laugh and play,
Laugh and play,
Laugh and play.
It made the Marauders laugh and play,
To see a lamb at school!"

It shrivelled up into a small pile of burning embers and everybody laughed.

Quite a lot, might I add.

The laughter seemed to stretch on for ages and I hastily whipped the soot and ash off my face, (and hoping that permanent flush across my face), trying to redeem myself. Marla and Emma looked pityingly at me, but I knew that they had been laughing as well. I grabbed bagel and decided that, right then, I didn't mind being twenty minutes early for Transfiguration.

I was halfway across the Great Hall when I heard some one call me.

A certain some one who I would have preferred to avoid.

"Lily! Wait up!"

I could hear Sirius laugh and went on for another round.

"He followed her to class one day, class one day, class one day—!"

"Lily," he had caught up with me. I blame my short legs. I get them from my mum, unfortunately, "I-I swear I had nothing to do with that!"

He sounded genuine.

Must've been feverish.

"—Which was against the rules!" Oh brilliant, others had joined in as well.

"Right," I said sarcastically, "And I'm really Malfoy's twin sister, separated at birth," I snapped.

"Well then," he said with an easy-going smile, "Nice to meet you Lily Malfoy, I'm James Potter," he held out his hand that I didn't take.

I grimaced. "That sounds horrible. Lily Malfoy? Ugh, the way you said it made it sound as though we were married,"

James tripped on something in the corridor that I apparently missed.

We reached Transfiguration and McGonagall was already there. Potter wouldn't try anything funny while she was around.

Would he?

Oh good lord, this is James Potter I'm talking about here! Of course he would! I positioned myself on the most opposite side of the room—farthest seat from James and relatively close to the professor who didn't even acknowledge our presence.

He shook his head and sat down in the other corner.

Just like that.

No comments.

No innuendos.

No flirting.

No pranks.

Good gravy, he must've been feverish!

We didn't say anything until the bell rung and everyone filed in accordingly. Sirius, of course, was still singing that abject little ditty.

McGonagall, thankfully, settled everyone down.

With the holidays only three weeks away, everyone was excited and even more objective to orders. Or just plain ignored her.

Not that I would do either of those two.

Nope, not me. Not Lily Evans that's for sure.

She droned on and on…transfigure…blah blah blah…spell…blah blah blah…water to candle…blah blah blah…partners…blah blah blah… "Evans you're with Potter"…blah blah—

Wait.

"WHAT?"

Truly brilliant of me, really. I only drew about the entire classes' attention to me. And then I wondered if I had really gotten all of the ash off my face.

Wrong thought. Wrong time.

"Is there a problem, Miss Evans?" McGonagall asked me. But I knew that she, quite frankly, didn't give a hoot if I had a problem with my partner.

"Erm, can't I have Marla or Emma instead?" I pleaded, trying to sound polite, not desperate.

"Well," she said through pursed lips, "I suppose that partnering some one with the seventh year's most capable transfiguration student with one of the more abysmal ones in order to help improve said abysmal student's transfiguration grade doesn't make sense, does it, Ms. Evans?"

Well if she was going to be all snippy about it…

"But Marla's good at Transfiguration, too…" I protested weakly.

She gave me this reprimanding look before partnering off everyone else.

Everyone moved over to his or her partner, including me.

I all-but-too gently, (sarcasm, sarcasm) slammed my books next to James—Potter, damn it, I meant Potter!

"You go first," I hadn't been listening to what she said. I didn't even know the spell.

He didn't object and waved his wand and mumbled the spell. I hadn't heard it, but the coloured water swiftly turned into a lovely yellow candle with little wavy patterns on the top and bottom.

Bloody show off.

He waited a second before transfiguring it back.

"Your turn," he said.

"Right," I held up my wand.

This wasn't going to work. I glanced at the board, hoping that McGonagall had written it down for us.

She didn't.

"Poo-head," said my inner five year old.

"Eh, what was the spell again?" Oh, look! There went my pride! It just hi-tailed it out the classroom door! Nice knowing you, too!

"Increbresco," he told me without making anything of it.

I blinked.

He didn't even gloat.

I was seriously tempted to check his forehead for that fever, but people would ask questions.

Questions that I did not feel like answering.

He looked at me weirdly.

"Have your eyelids been glued back or something, Evans?"

And any hope I had for him went out completely.

"Nope," I said evenly, "You've just got some jam in your hair,"

He began to run both hands through his hair frantically, trying to get rid of the jam that he just couldn't seem to find…

It took me three tries, but I eventually turned the water into a candle.

Okay, maybe seven tries.

FINE! TWELVE TRIES! And even then, the candle had some strange gooey build to it…

James, going into one of his bi-polar moods, laughed and poked fun at me and kept saying that I had to stop focusing so much, and to "just relax" and trust the magic to the work.

Buffoon, I can't do magic if I don't focus on it.

"Hey, Evans?" he asked.

"Yeah?" I said, concentrating on not concentrating like he had suggested…not that I would ever tell him that I was taking his advice on anything, of course.

"Why won't you go out with me?"

If I had been expecting anything, it most certainly was not that. The spell I had intended to be used on the water hit another girl's Transfiguration book. She gave me a sharp look when it exploded.

Drama queen...

"Because, Potter, " I sighed, trying to focus on aiming this time, "You don't like me, for one thing, you don't even use my first name for goodness sake. You, quite frankly, know nothing about me."

He opened his mouth to say something.

"And," I added quickly, "You have spent the better part of six years making my life hard as hell,"

James tried to say something in defence.

"And you have no appreciation for muggles or their traditions," I added, remembering the one time I had tried to explain the concept of a muggle Halloween. ("They put sheets over their heads and call themselves ghosts and beg for candy? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of!")

He began to look annoyed when he opened his mouth the third time.

"And I find you're temper very annoying." I finished smugly.

"Well, even if I did change, it's not as though you would give me the time of day, now is it?" he snapped.

"You see?" I raised my voice above his, "There's you're temper! It's always flaring up when something doesn't go your way!"

"That's not true!" he yelled.

I stood up to match him and his voice, "YOU'RE PROVING MY POINT RIGHT NOW!"

Suddenly, a shy looking third year opened the door.

"Um," she started and nervously walked up to McGonagall who, (besides ignoring our latest tiff), was criticizing Emma's purple supposed-to-be candle, but it looked more like a child's play-dough.

"I've got a message from Professor Flitwick about some exploding turnips, dung bombs, canaries, and an emergency…?"

McGonagall sighed.

"What floor?"

"Fourth,"

"I'll be back before the period is over," she said to the class, "keep practicing and don't do anything stupid while I'm gone," She walked out the door with the student.

The woman has such faith in us.

But, alas, the woman was right.

The moment the clicking of her shoes had faded down the corridor, Sirius, seated a row behind me and James, had started another rousing chorus of "Lily Had a Little Lamb,"

"Lily had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Lily had a little lamb, whose hair was black as coal!"

I vaguely saw the side of Potter's neck heat up like the Gryffindor fireplace.

Emma and Marla were looking torn between feeling sorry for me and joining right in with the rest of the class.

Ruddy traitors...

James blatantly ignored what they said, but didn't show embarrassment.

But by the time they got barely to, 'It made the Marauders laugh and play…' I was just plain sick of them.

I hated being teased, even if they were being jokingly about it.

I had this sudden urge to prove myself. So I picked up my stupid wand, pointed it at my stupid cup full of the stupid water and yelled the stupid spell:

"INCREBRESCO!" and it turned into the best-damn looking candle I had ever seen, completely lit and all.

Take that, you pure-blooded freaks.

Sirius was still laughing and singing that damn song. I picked up the candle, held it in my hand and used a charm that I had looked up in the library.

"Locappar Douze!"

The candle disappeared from my hand and relocated itself right at Black's feet. He shot up like a bat out of hell, I was pleased to see. The Locappar charm relocated a certain object right where a certain person wishes to places his or her feet. The little Douze part at the end meant that it would duplicate itself every ten seconds. So what would be one, became two, after two, there were four, after four their were sixteen...and on it would go until I lifted it.

To make things more difficult, (for him, I mean), I sent the Tarantallegra charm at him and his legs began to sporadically go into this mad-Italian like dance

He had long since stopped singing and made an immediate reach for his wand. But Emma, bless her, 'accio-ed' it away from him.

He looked at me bewildered.

Perhaps he just thought I was going to slowly burn him to death…

Not a bad idea, but a bit too messy for my tastes.

"Recognise this rhyme, Sirius?" I asked him deviously and charmed the classes' quills to sing (in high, squeaky, hamster-like voices, might I add) as the stood up on the edge of each owner's desk:

"Black, be nimble,
Black, be quick,
Black, jump over the candlestick!

Black jumped high,
And Black jumped low,
Black jumped over—
—and burned his toe!"

Insert my evil maniacal laughter here. I mean, I would put a villain to shame with my evil maniacal laughter. No wonder the Marauders pranked so much, I realised, it was fun. And the gloating...! Good lord it was heaven on earth!

You would think that with almost seven years of magical education behind me and the most ultimate power to prank people that I would have realised this…

So with Sirius dancing up and over about forty some odd number of flames, Emma, Marla, and the other three Marauders laughing so hard that they were reduced to tears, several still singing "Lily Had a Little Lamb", and me, in the centre of it all, laughing like a loon was just exactly how McGonagall found us all.

"You!" she pointed to me, furiously, "My office—NOW!"

Oh joys behold me…

At least I had break after this. Personally, I would prefer break to be after my third period Potions lesson. I hardly need a break after just one class. Then again, it is Transfiguration, my worst subject, but I don't need a whole period to recuperate. But this wasn't exactly the time to debate such an irrelevant topic.

All in all, she lectured me for the rest of the period, only docked off ten points from Gryffindor and gave me one night's detention.

I wasn't all that surprised that I had gotten off as much.

She knew just as much as I did that Black deserved what he got.

McGonagall was still annoyed with me, even after I got up to leave. I hesitated before turning back to her.

"Professor?" I said.

"What is it now, Miss Evans?" she asked exasperatedly.

"You have a canary in your hair,"

I walked back to the common room for some R 'n' R before Arithmancy.

"Password, dear?" the fat lady asked.

"Blubberwits," I answered. I didn't even know if that was a real word, or if some one had accidentally sneezed when they had meant to say the real password.

As I crawled through, I could already hear the voices and I paused halfway through the limbo-area between the hallway and the common room.

"I'm telling you," I heard Emma say to some one, "She will kill you before you have the chance to hide,"

"And, before you ask, Sirius, no, you cannot and will not hide behind me this time," I heard Remus tell him sternly, "It took me two weeks for my eyebrows to match again!"

"Nonsense!" said a happy Sirius. "We won't have to go to such extremes once she realises that she and James were made for each other!"

I narrowed my eyes dangerously.

"I can tell you right now that she's not going to take to it very well," Emma tried. "She will string you up by your entrails,"

Again, Sirius brushed her off, "Of course she won't. She'll be too busy snogging James!"

"Does James know about this?"

"Well, no…"

"Excuse me?" a small voice said behind me.

I jumped up and hit my head. Nearly had a heart attack, I did, and at the tender age of seventeen. I turned to look behind me only to see three younger students wanting to get to their dorms.

"Sorry," I mumbled and finished crawling through, walked by a scared looking group of first-years who were shuffling near the girls' staircase whispering amongst each other.

"Hey, Lily," said Emma, who was, surprisingly, sitting next to Sirius.

"'Lo," I answered.

"How did McGonagall take it?" Remus asked.

"Better than expected," I quickly filled them in on what happened.

"I must say that was very impressive work, Lily-dear," said Sirius, nodding approvingly and taking nothing personal, "Never knew our head girl had it in her,"

I scoffed.

"Please," I said haughtily and examined my nails, mocking arrogance, "that was second year work, at best,"

We laughed.

Me, Emma, and half of the Marauders...weird.

And then James joined us.

"What's the joke?" he asked immediately.

"You," I answered without hesitation. Point for me.

"I'm sure it wasn't as funny as the one I heard about you yesterday," he didn't even need to take half a breath to think of it. Point for him. Lucky bastard.

"I'm going to get some home work done," I announced as I got up, not wanting to be in his presence any longer. Emma tensed and I made a mental note to figure out why.

And I did.

The very bleeding moment I set foot on the staircase.

That's also when I figured out why the group of first-years had been acting so suspicious when I walked in...

As I made my why to go up to my room, no less than ten gallons of water came crashing down on me.

I stood there.

In shock.

And very, very wet.

The first-years started to sing, off tune, but in relative unison:

"The Eencey Weencey Lily
Climbed up the waterspout;
Down came the rain
And washed poor Lily out,"

Sirius was in hysterics. The funny kind, I mean. As in "ha ha, you look soooo stupid dripping wet and being serenaded by a bunch of first-years ha ha," type of hysterics.

I knew he was up to something...that fact that I overheard him talking about it means nothing.

"Lily!" James shot up immediately and tried to come to my rescue.

Pfft, I am a perfectly strong and independent woman and am quite capable of a simple drying charm, thankyouverymuch. Or at least, that had been what I intended to say...but the moment that I got a good look at his hazel eyes, the drying charm was the farthest thing from my mind.

"Here," he said, pulling out his wand, "Let me help,"

Help? When was the last time James Potter actually willingly helped some one beside himself? What was with all of these bi-polar moods?

"Out came the sun
And dried up all the rain;"

"Thanks," I said quickly, turning to back up the staircase again.

"Say, Lily?" he asked.

"What?" I turned around, peeved.

"I was just, um, I was thinking, I mean--"

"Potter," I said coldly, "get to the point," Really, I did not have time to just stand around on the stairs…I had my pride to recollect.

"Would like to gotothekitchnswi'me?"

I turned around completely, "In English, please?"

He rolled his eyes, "I..." he started before he changed his sentence as well as his composure, (everyone on the couch groaned when they realised what was happening),"I was just saying that you desperately need to work on your transfiguration form. And, as it so conveniently is, I happen to be free tomorrow after lunch and we could—"

"No,"

And that was that. Point for me! Whoop!

"And the Eencey Weencey Lily
Climbed up the spout—"

"Would you lot please just shut up?" I snapped at them. Not the nicest thing to say to a bunch of eleven year olds, but hey, you don't annoy red heads. You just don't.

Duh. It was like something you learned in Life's Lessons 101: Basics.

I finished my way up to the dorms, and got to work...

The next morning, I had to nearly drag Emma and Marla out of bed.

I was excited.

Very excited.

Very, very excited.

I was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement.

I hurriedly pulled them down the corridors in their rumpled uniforms to make sure that we got their ten minutes before post. I grabbed three seats just a short while down from the Marauders who were obliviously eating their breakfast.

They'd never know what hit them...

Well, actually they would, because as it is, the group of us seem to be in this "Nursery Rhyme" sort of war.

Finally, the owls came in; I nearly choked on my muffin I was so excited.

Four owls immediately flew towards James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter at the end of the table, and each owl dropped a howler in their respective plates.

Everyone began to grow silent at their end of the Gryffindor table.

"You open it first!" said Sirius to Remus.

"Are you mad?"

"There is no way—"

"Does it say who its fr—?"

But I had charmed them to go off before they had the chance to open them. Even I have to marvel at my smarty-ness, sometimes. I was already grinning like a maniac, completely giving me away if my voice in the howler didn't:

"Fee! Fie! Foe! Fum!
I smell the blood of some Englishmen.
Be 'em 'live, or be 'em dead,
I'll grind their bones to make my bread!"

The Marauders looked positively scandalised. Particularly Sirius and James.

I happily bit into my butter roll and began to converse with a shocked Emma and an equally shocked Marla.

"Lily?" Marla asked, "Was that...Was that you?"

"Yup!" I supplied happily, grinning like an idiot again.

They both gaped openly at me.

I could already tell, that today was going to be a good day.

And it was.

It just got incredibly strange during lunch break in the Great Hall.

"Lily!" some one called out.

"Whu'?" my mouth was full. I turned to see who it was, and was surprised to see James, with a look of determination on his face.

I swallowed my peanut butter, pineapple, and pepperoni sandwich and began to prepare a mental list of letdowns.

"Happy Thanksgiving," he held out a rather large basket to me.

The funny thing about the situation was A, Thanksgiving was weeks ago, B, England and Scotland don't celebrate Thanksgiving, and C, the basket...well, it was squirming.

"Potter," I looked at it, trying to hold in my disdained look, "Do you even know what Thanksgiving is?" I asked.

His face fell slightly, but he cleared his throat, "It is a muggle holiday held on the fourth Thursday of November to celebrate the Pilgrims and Indians getting along and making peace and sharing turkey," I think he had it all memorised... "I apologise for it being late," He again prompted me with the basket.

"James," I said more reasonably, trying not to laugh, "Thanksgiving isn't just a muggle tradition. Magical people celebrate it every year as well."

James faltered.

I was in a full-blown grin as I went on. "In North America," I laughed. "There were no Native Americans in Britain, henceforth why we do not celebrate Thanksgiving. And pilgrims were originally from here, yes, but they immigrated to the early United States." Poor James, "But what on earth do you have in the basket?"

He looked down at his hands and simply said:

"The turkey,"

I looked at him, confused, and lifted the lid open.

I wish I hadn't.

I really wish I hadn't.

Apparently James didn't get the memo that the Native Americans and the Pilgrims had cooked the infamous turkey.

I found out first-hand just how humorous it is to watch some of Britain's top school teachers run around trying to catch a wild bird not even native to the continent.

I actually found it so funny that I just had to give James a hug as I nearly lost my lung laughing so hard. Potter looked like a lost lamb, which I found oddly endearing coming from him.

As I was laughing, I realised just how seriously James had taken my declaration about him not caring about muggle traditions to heart.

The next day was Friday, thank heavens. It had been a long week.

I was merrily making my way down to breakfast when the usual "my house is better than your house" (translation: Gryffindor/Slytherin related) brawl broke out in one of the corridors.

Me, being the wonderful saving grace of Head Girl that I am, went over to break it up and dock off the usual ten points per-person.

Unfortunately, I didn't count on being hit by a Bat-Bogey hex. Then again, most people in life don't, unless some one is personally out to get them. And I don't think I fall into that category, but quite frankly I do not enjoy my over-grown boogers attacking me in the middle of the hall.

Again, most people don't like that as well.

A nice Ravenclaw seventh year named Carl Davis helped me beat them off and was even nice enough to escort me to the Infirmary wing. Unfortunately, Madam Pompfrey was too busy fussing over some one more important than my Bat-Bogey hex, so I was forced to battle my bogies on my own.

The fact that I was missing Transfiguration didn't bother me the slightest.

By the time Madam Pompfrey got to me, I had just less than twenty minutes left in the lesson that I would not be attending. I was not about to sit there next to James Potter if I could avoid it.

But then I was forced to revaluate my opinion on him...And I hated re-writing what's been carved in stone.

I decided that I would spend my free period time out by the lake and enjoy the snow before the spring came. Granted, that wouldn't be for another three and a half months, but why not stop and smell the roses? Er…or lack thereof, considering it was the middle of winter and all…

I walked through the empty corridors and deftly listened to the professor's lectures. I stifled a yawn. Skipping class was no fun if you didn't have anyone to skip with.

However, I came upon something most inquiring as I passed the Transfiguration wing.

A sheep.

I don't think I've seen a funnier sight. Well, actually, I just remembered The Turkey incident yesterday. So neveeer mind.

It must've heard me snort in laughter because it looked away from the door it had been previously staring at and clumsily whirled around to look at me.

I was in the Transfiguration wing, so there was no telling what it had once been. A chair, a desk, maybe if the student was super-advanced, a quill. Or it could've gotten loose at Hagrid's. He's been known to have some strange creatures float around his area. But sheep? For Hagrid, that just seemed, well, too normal.

It slowly walked up to me and stared at me expectantly. It had abnormally black fur from head to hoof and it could have easily blended right into the shadows if it wasn't hanging around in the sun.

Maybe Hagrid was training magic sheep...?

I rolled my eyes at it.

"C'mon," I sighed as I began to walk towards the Entrance Hall, "We'll get you back where you belong,"

It followed me, oddly enough. It was even comfortable walking right besides me.

When I said that skipping class would be more fun with some one else, I, um, had kind of meant someone human. Who could talk back to me so there would be no one-sided conversation.

"At least I have a legit reason for getting out of class," I mumbled, "'Sorry, Professor, but there really was a sheep in the castle that was lost and it needed my help! Honest!'" I snorted, "That'd come off reeeally well,"

The said sheep looked at me.

I rolled my eyes at it.

"I'm not good at Transfiguration, okay?" I snapped. It looked down at the snow as we walked. A lot of it had already melted since yesterday, I noticed. I sighed, "Sorry," I told the sheep. Yes, I apologised to a sheep, "It's just that it's the one class that I can never seem to get a break in." We passed the greenhouse where Professor Sprout was teaching her fifth years.

"And that James Potter is just so infuriating!" I threw my arms up wildly, just like the madwoman I truly am.

The sheep looked up at me sadly.

"Well, what's it to you?" I snapped at it. "You're just a sheep. I highly doubt that you've ever had to deal with some one asking you out ever since you were fourteen. And everyone is always telling me how 'he's not all that bad' and rubbish. Not that bad? Not that bad? He's take pleasure in torturing all of the poor innocent Slytherins who have already been told to hate the Gryffindors and just hate them even more because people like James Potter are around, confirming that they were right in the first place."

"Lily?" Hagrid asked, confused.

I looked around. I hadn't realised that we had already walked to his hut. Oops.

"Hey, Hagrid," I said conversationally. "I've got a question for you," I moved out of the way to show him the sheep that had followed me. "Do you have a herd of sheep or something? Because I think this one—"

"What one?" he asked.

"The one that—oh..." I looked around wildly. It had disappeared. "B-but...it was just here! I swear!"

Hagrid laughed.

"NEWT's already getting to ya, eh, Lily?"

I was confused. I knew that there had been a sheep...

"I guess so..." I answered slowly.

"Either way," he went on in his usual booming voice, "Hogwarts doesn't have a herd of sheep, an' I doubt that there are any in the forest,"

"Oh, okay, thanks then," I said and walked away, slightly confounded.

I made it only about forty feet away from the hut before a familiar little coal-coloured head stuck itself right under my hand.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"So now you want to hang out?" I glared at the offending sheep. I just had to rethink that sentence..."offending sheep", indeed. "You think that you can just ditch me and come back and then we'll be best friend again, don't you?"

It looked at me pitifully.

"Oh all right," I sighed dramatically. We walked over to the tree by the lake. I waved my wand and suddenly there was a nice snow free spot under one of the larger branches. I leaned up against the trunk and the sheep audaciously laid down next to me and put its head in my lap.

"Presumptuous much?" I said.

Its response was only a snuggled into my stomach.

I began ranting again. "Do you know how me and Potter first met?" I asked it, not expecting an answer. "It was on the boat ride to Hogwarts, first year. He pushed me overboard. I was completely embarrassed, and teased about it until third year. And that was because I punched out Malfoy and got my first detention. But even the sorting hat was complaining saying that one girl was going to ruin his one thousand year old material and stitch work. I was so terrified that I thought they were going to kick me out,"

It locked eyes with me.

"Then again, he was only eleven." I agreed. "But his mentality has hardly evolved from since." I was lying. The sheep knew it too. It lifted its head up and stared at me. I sighed again reluctantly. "Alright, so he has matured a bit. But people just don't change like that over one summer! It takes years for something drastic like that to happen. Although that would explain his hot-to-cold personality right now," I hate it when I answer my own questions. It is very, very annoying.

"I do honestly appreciate it now that he's starting to understand that I will not date him just because he asked me. I s'pose that the whole turkey incident kind of proves that he's willingly trying to change though doesn't it? Ugh, look at me," I said as the sheep happily did as it was told and locked eyes with me, "I can't believe I'm ranting and raving about James Potter to a sheep. Good gravy, I'm losing my mind again."

The sheep began to stand up, as if it felt as though it were intruding on some one else's personal problems.

"Oooh no," I grabbed a tuff of fur and lightly yanked it back down next to me. "You are going to sit here as proof that I am not insane, be my pillow, and you are going to listen to my problems," I told the sheep firmly.

And it did just that, the dear thing did.

I laid comfortably on the grass with a sheep as my pillow under the old willow tree. That rhymed! Maybe I should become a poet! No, no, no...They make next to no money. How dull.

"As much as I hate to admit it," I confided, "I'm actually beginning to consider giving James a chance. Maybe a Hogsmead trip together or something small to see if there really is any potential," Even through the layers of fluff, for some reason I could feel the sheep's pulse increase dramatically. Odd. "I s'pose that if he was persistent enough to keep asking me for almost four years now, I guess I do owe him a chance to prove himself. And if not, I can go back to hating him in peace."

I took in a deep breath.

"You know, for a sheep, you sure as heck don't smell like a barn or anything," I told it. I felt it tense up slightly. "You smell more like..." I took a nice big waft. "Cologne...?" I turned my head so I could look at it. "Hot date, tonight or something?"

It seemed to give me a look that said, "If only".

I tutted mockingly, "What would the Missus say?" I laughed at the curious expression it made. "Y'know," I said to it, "You're not half bad. And I don't think there are any rules against having pet sheep at Hogwarts. Maybe I can keep you," I smiled at it, but it looked slightly alarmed, as if only just remembering something.

"Yeesh, sorry," I said, "No need to get so insulted."

It responded by endearingly rubbing my cheek with its cold nose. Actually...if it were human, it would've been kissing me on the cheek. Does that count as snogging? Am I a sheep snogger? Oh now I feel terrible for leading it on like this! I was all but throwing myself at it! Aaaaargh...I'm such a horrible person!

"Ooooh, no, listen here, you," I said not as nicely as I intended as I sat up, "I am a human," and pointed to myself, "and you are a sheep," I pointed to said sheep. "It would never work out. I'm sorry, but that is the way the cookie crumbles, and that is how Mother Nature intended for it to be. She doesn't want some human-slash-sheep hybrids wandering around the earth, no-sirree."

It was then I realised, by the look of shock on the sheep's face, just how ridiculous I sounded.

"C'mon," I said, standing up, "I'll take you to the dorm so you don't freeze to death." Even though that was highly unlikely with all of the fur it had that seemed to be sticking up in all odd directions.

My free period was over halfway up, and people were wandering the corridors going to and from places such as the library.

If by chance you saw a girl with bright red hair being tailed by a jet black sheep in your school, what would you do? Why, stare of course! The hallways parted for me easily like Moses and the sea, whispering like I couldn't hear them.

Yeah, sure, some idiot would make a jive at me, but the sheep didn't take to well to that. It rammed one of Lucius Malfoy's cronies straight into a suit of armour and down the stairwell.

But most took the sheep and me good-humouredly, such as most of the Gryffindors. Some even broke out into Sirius' favourite song:

"Lily had a little lamb,
Little lamb,
Little lamb.
Lily had a little lamb,
Whose hair was black as coal!"

You know... I could've sworn that the last line went "Whose fleece was white as snow" or something like that...But it has been a while, so I'm not one to talk.

It was strange, though, that the sheep following me around had fur black as coal. Now that I mention it, I could name some one else who had hair as dark as coal, just like in the song.

"It followed her to class one day,
Class one day,
Class one day.
It followed her to class one day,
Which was against the rules!"

Didn't the lamb follow her to school one day? Not just class?

I could remember when some one with hair dark as coal following me to my Transfiguration class the other day...And he was also notoriously known for completely disregarding the rules.

"It made the Marauders laugh and play,
Laugh and play,
Laugh and play.
It made the Marauders laugh and play,
To see a lamb at school!"

I hadn't really registered the fact that the Marauders had thrown in their name like that. Probably just for publicity amongst the girls. They always seemed to be having such a good time as well as getting top marks in their classes. I recalled when I had taken a leaf out of their book and made Sirius jerkily jump over a candlestick to a nursery rhyme being sung by a bunch of quills.

We made it to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Blubberwits,"

"Sure thing, dear," the portrait slid open to reveal the passage. I had to give the sheep a boost. It almost hesitantly walked in front of me.

I gave it a push.

"They're my friends, sheep, they're not going to eat...well, Marla is Scottish and she was telling me about this time when she was at a reunion and ate sheep intestines, so just try to avoid her," I said, but it didn't seem encouraging to the sheep.

"Lily?" Emma said worriedly into the small tunnel, "Is that you?"

"Hey, Em," I said, "It's me,"

"We were so worried about you!" she gushed. The stupid sheep refused to movie so I crawled around it.

"You and James were both missing a-and Marla had thought that you two were going to do something stupid, together or not, and we don't even know what happened James! Wait, where were you?"

"I was in the Infirmary," I told her, reaching back into the limbo-passage area that I had once used to spy on Emma and Sirius with. "'Got hit with the Bat Bogey hex and had to get cleaned up. But what's all this nonsense I hear about James?"

"Oh, jeez," she rubbed her forehead as I continued to sweep my hands through the passage area to pull out the sheep. "No one knows. One of the Hufflepuffs James was partnered with went a little crazy with his spell and there was this big explosion—McGonagall looked as though she would kill some one. It had apparently somehow mildly affected nearly everyone in the class, save for George, I think his name was, who was casting the spell in he first place." She sighed worriedly. "But as for James...all we could find were his robes and his wand. Nothing else. The poor Hufflepuff is positively grief-stricken about it, too, he's too upset to even join the search party..."

My fingers had wrapped around a woolly substance. Aha! True, I was only half-listening, but was rather intent on finding my sheep to show off to Emma. Besides, James could handle himself, I assured myself. I gave a small tug and the sheep came out and into the common room.

"Isn't it cute?" I said, hugging it and enjoying the soft fur against my cheek.

The worry of her fellow Gryffindor washed away completely as she knelt down next to me.

"Omigod he's adorable!"

The sheep seemed to deadpan and sigh.

"He?" I repeated.

"Well," she blushed, "if you'd just look under—"

But she never did tell me just what I had to "look under" because Sirius and Remus came barrelling through the portrait.

"If they can't find him by morning, they're going to have to call his parents!" Sirius shouted the moment they were through.

"This is…really serious," I said mostly to myself, worry catching on quickly at the looks of their faces and I frowned to Emma, "Shouldn't they just fire call his parents now?"

"They don't want to raise a panic too soon," Remus said to us and then he took a double take at me, with an odd expression on his face. "Erm, Lily? Where did you get that sheep?"

"SHEEP?" Sirius yelled furiously, "YOU LOT ARE WORRYING ABOUT A SHEEP WHEN HERE MY BEST FRIEND IS MISSING?" He turned to yell at the three of us and had to take not one, but two double takes.

He froze, just as the sheep did, and narrowed his eyes.

"James?" said Sirius, bewildered.

"No," I automatically corrected, suddenly feeling protective, "Sheep," I said, pulling it closer.

He practically threw himself in front of the sheep and me, clasped two hands around either side of the sheep's face and pulled it up to his nose for a close look.

"Prongs?" He said worriedly.

The traitor of a sheep scrambled out of my arms and began to attempt a victory dance.

A victory dance. A patented victory dance that I often saw after the Gryffindor Quidditch matches.

I had found the sheep outside of the Transfiguration corridor, looking at a door that perhaps it had just come out of. And to think that just the other day we were practicing turning water into candles...so how does someone turn into a sheep during that short period of time? It had no problem whatsoever as to listening to whatever I said and—

Oh God. What I had said.

I sat there shell-shocked as Remus, Sirius, and Sheep/James jumped around joyfully, happy to know that their friend was safe.

I suddenly felt alone.

And very scared now that James knew almost everything I thought about him.

Emma jumped up in sudden realization; "We have to go see Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore immediately!"

Sirius was in the lead, followed by sheep/James, Remus, Emma, and reluctantly me. Personally, I didn't want to be there if the sheep really was James.

I don't think I could possible be his fellow Head Student if it was.

We had to run all the way down to the second floor to find Professor McGonagall.

"We've found James!" Sirius some how hoisted him in front of McGonagall's face who paled. "Can't you fix him?" He yelled after a moment's silence.

"Of course I can," she snapped back. "Place him on the ground," she ordered and pulled out her wand and paused to concentrate for a moment. "REVERTUS MORTUS MAXIMUS!"

And suddenly, where a very black little sheep once was, stood a very tall and slightly disgruntled looking James Potter.

A very disgruntled looking and naked James Potter.

He didn't seem to realise this, even after McGonagall quickly shut her eyes and went down the corridor as swiftly as she could, muttering nonsense under her breath.

Emma had to, literally, use force to turn me around.

Between Sirius and Remus, they barely had enough spare robe one their person to get James decent enough to walk back up to the Gryffindor common room.

I felt awkward as I tagged behind everyone else.

"Lily?" James turned around to face me. "Are you, um, are you okay?"

"Just fine," I said bitterly. I attempted to walk passed the others.

"Lily, wait up—can you just look at me?"

"No!" I yelled, "I can't!" And I really couldn't…for goodness sake; I had practically poured my heart out to him thinking that he was an innocent sheep. I was running by now.

"I'm sorry, Lily! I didn't mean for you to tell me things that I wasn't meant to hear!" he was running, too.

"Then you should have just left!" I turned on him.

"I tried!" he defended himself legitimately, "But you pulled me back down and told me to be a pillow and to listen to your problems!" I hated how he was so much taller than me.

Something inside me broke free, and I don't think it was a good something… "BECAUSE I THOUGHT YOU WERE A GOOD GOR NOTHING SHEEP! BUT I WAS WRONG! NOW I KNOW THAT YOU WERE JUST A GOOD FOR NOTHING POTTER!" I spat out the words faster than I could comprehend them.

"YOU WON'T EVEN LOOK AT ME IN CLASS WITHOUT MALICE!" He was really angry now, I noted. We really need to work on our anger problems… "I HAD TO BE REDUCED TO A BLOODY SHEEP BEFORE I COULD ACTUALLY HEAR YOUR VOICE WITH OUT SARCASM!"

Quite frankly, I really did not want to be having this conversation in front of the Marauders, Emma, Marla—who had just gotten word of James' return, as did half of the school watching.

"SARCASM?" I repeated, outraged, "I ASSURE YOU, POTTER, THAT I AM ONLY EVER SARCASTIC TO YOU, OUT OF EVERYONE IN THIS WHOLE SCHOOL! EVEN SNAPE! EVEN MALFOY!"

"SARCASM IS THE LOWEST FORM OF WIT, YOU KNOW!" James yelled, he was getting desperate as well.

"THAN YOU SHOULD BE ABLE TO COMPREHEND IT JUST FINE!" I answered easily. My voice was going hoarse and I didn't understand why there was this prickly feeling behind my eyes.

"YOU SAID THAT YOU WERE WILLING TO GIVE ME A CHANCE—!"

"—BEFORE I FOUND OUT YOU WERE LYING TO ME!"

"I COULDN'T SAY ANYTHING! I WAS A BLOODY SHEEP!"

"YOU STILL LIED TO ME!"

"YOU DIDN'T GIVE ME THE CHOICE!"

I think poor Emma, confused as ever, was border-line heart attack, Marla was practically brimming with tears, and both Sirius and Remus didn't want to be anywhere near the battlefield.

"YOU NEVER HAD TO FOLLOW ME OUTSIDE TO HAGRID'S!" I yelled, "YOU COULD HAVE JUST WAITED AN EXTRA TWO MINUTES FOR MCGONAGALL TO GET THE CLASS UNDER CONTROL!" Why did my cheeks suddenly feel so wet…? Surely they weren't…? I wasn't…? Was I…?

When did the other teachers get here? When did Dumbledore get here? Why isn't he stopping us from fighting? We've never gotten this far before. Why didn't his eyes have the old twinkle in them?

"MAYBE BECAUSE I WANTED TO BE WITH YOU FOR ONCE!" He hollered, he had to clear his throat; he was going hoarse as well. "I've known you for almost seven years now," he said more quietly. "And it's taken me more than just one summer to try to change my attitude to accommodate to your liking. But nothing will ever be good enough for you, Evans," he sneered. He had lost his appeal when the light in his eyes went out.

"THEN WHY?" I screeched. Maybe my voice wasn't as forgone as I had thought… "WHY DID YOU WANT TO CHANGE YOUR ATTITUDE FOR SOME ONE YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD NEVER PLEASE?"

He raised his voice again. "BECAUSE I WANTED TO TRY! I THOUGHT MAYBE IF I CHANGED JUST A LITTLE BIT THEN YOU WOULD NOTICE AND WE COULD BUILD OFF THAT!"

"THERE HAS NEVER BEEN ANYTHING TO BUILD OFF OF!" I felt myself fighting the losing battle. "AND THER NEVER WILL BE!"

I ran.

So much for Gryffindor bravery, huh?

I didn't want to look at the ashamed faces of my professors who I would be facing next Monday morning in class. I couldn't bear to see James Potter's grief-stricken face as I ran through the stunned Emma and Marla.

I was running through tapestries that I didn't know existed and down corridors that seemed long forgotten in my mind.

Eventually, I don't know how much later, I found my way to the Gryffindor common room. There couldn't have been more than ten people in the whole tower. Everyone else had to be undoubtedly downstairs where James and I threw our last tantrum.

Tomorrow morning I would hand in my badge, maybe give it to Alice; heaven knows she's always dreamed of it.

I sealed my four-poster bed with the most complex locking charm I knew and I flung myself into my pillow and cried.

It was only inevitable that I would fall in love with some one like James Potter.

The next morning I awoke to voices.

Real voices, not the silly ones in your head that are always trying to distinguish right from wrong. I think mine are bi-polar or something. Last night, nothing seemed right and everything seemed so wrong but felt so good to have off of my chest but left me feeling horrible, wallowing in my own misery.

They were the voices of Marla and Emma trying to encourage me to leave the dorm.

I refused to go to breakfast. Or any of my morning classes.

Emma and Marla told me that James was the same way once they had brought me back some toast. They said that they didn't see him at lunch, either, as they shared their sandwiches with me in the dorms. They talked to Sirius and Remus, who were guys, and honestly had no idea how to comfort such an emotionally unstable person such as James.

The teachers pretended that nothing was wrong, Marla assured me. The professor's didn't mention either of us in any of their classes, and didn't even say our names in the morning roll call.

Emma said that they were trying to give us as much privacy as possible.

I found it strange since they usually tried to keep business and personal rubbish in two separate cabinets.

Once they left, I crawled out of bed and looked in the mirror. Christ on a cheese cracker, I was a mess. How could I let myself go like this…?

I took a shower—a long shower—and sat by the window.

It had a perfect view of the old willow tree by the lake.

I got up angrily and tried to read my books.

No luck.

Homework?

I could afford to procrastinate for the next six weeks.

Sleeping?

Nightmares of last night replayed over and over in my head.

My answer came a minute later. There was an incessant tapping on my window. I realised that I had missed the morning post, and probably confused my owl.

I opened the window, but it wasn't my owl. Perhaps it was one of the school's?

I tore the letter from its leg and it sat, waiting, as I read.

James Potter sat on a wall.
James Potter had a great fall.
All of Prong's horses and all the Prong's men
Couldn't put Potter's heart back together again…

At the bottom there was tiny, almost invisible, neatly scrawled heart.

And then I cried some more…I am such a blubbering idiot.

I quickly grabbed my parchment and tried to remember an old rhyme that my mother used to tell Petunia and me.

The hart, he loves the high wood;
The dame, she loves the hill;
The Gryffindor, he loves his bright broom;
The lady loves her will—
—It's already led her to her doom.

The last bit had been a spur of the moment rendition, but then again, I had chopped a lot of it up anyway. I quickly gave it to the owl and watched him take off to the other side of the tower.

It came back in under four minutes. I knew because I had counted every second.

Dear Lily,

I am truly and sincerely sorry for the unfortunate emotional display in the hall yesterday. I would greatly appreciate your forgiveness and, I hope, your friendship.

As Always,
James

But I didn't want to be friends with him! I wanted to be something…something, um, a bit more than friendship.

Bloody karma!

Dear James,

You have nothing to be sorry for—you were right before: everything was/is my fault. And truthfully, as much as I appreciate your offer of friendship, I wouldn't mind testing the waters in pursuit of a stronger relationship than just friends.

Yours Sincerely,
Lily

Pursuit of a stronger relationship? What the bloody flip was that crap? Why was I being so…formal? To my relief, James wrote back with a sense of humour:

Dear Lily,

You've spent the last four years of Hogwarts telling me that you would date the lake's squid before you dated me. I knew I'd wear you down.

That line, I noted and couldn't help but grinning, had been crossed out repeatedly. That was the James that I knew and loved.

Loved.

I couldn't help but smile.

Have you eaten anything today?

Affectionately,
James

I swear, it's the stomach that controls the boy with this one.

Dear James,

I've had some toast and a sandwich, why do you ask?

Kindly,
LilyDear Lily,

I am currently in the good graces of the Hogwarts house elves and know where we can get some great desserts.

I liked how drew a short row of smiley faces.

So what do you say? Would you like to accompany the now-officially-off-the-market-resident-Gryffindor-heartthrob and see how long it takes for our friends to discover that we're missing? Or shall you leave him in the kitchens all on his lonesome at the tender mercies of the house elves?

Faithfully,
James

I wanted to write back, "Personally, I found you more attractive as a sheep", or "I think I'll just let the house elves have their wicked way with you", but I doubted that it would get me a date with him after everyone simmered down. And I was okay with that.

I was ready to wait for James just as long as he had for me.

I quickly scribbled down "I'm already in the common room," before dashing off.

And whoever said that nursery rhymes were just for children?

:-:
-:FIN:-

A/N:

Well, um, yeah. There you have it. I nearly had the head-title be "Snogging Sheep", but I'm sure people would've just brushed right over the story with that title...This has to be the most random and pointless piece of work that I have ever done. I really enjoyed it!

I was shovelling out my driveway (again) when I was thinking about nursery rhymes and fiddled with the wording. And, get this; I had to do research—on nursery rhymes! Oh the shame...

Oh the fun... xD

--

Ta for now!

Love, Liebling