Disclaimer: Not mine, yo.

A/N: One Shot numero tres! I don't know how I feel about this one, and it was much more difficult than the other two. Anyway, here it is!

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Sharp metal needles dove into a mass of dark scarlet, poking and prodding furiously. A scream sounded nearby as the needles continued to attack the mass. The red thing stood no chance.

Yes, Lily Evans was knitting a sweater.

After all, isn't that what all spinsters do? She had placed her scruffy cat, Ellie, on the cushion beside her, had a mound of chocolate on her right, and wore an ugly purple housecoat to complete her look.

She'd given up hope. It was her seventh year in Hogwarts, and she had yet too hook a man. Of course she'd been on a few dates, but nothing ever lasted. The best part of this whole deal?

She had a major crush on her archenemy, James Bloody Potter.

She couldn't believe she'd stoop so low and become so desperate as to actually fancy the one boy that would reciprocate her affections. She was a strong, independent woman! Falling in love with the bloke you hate certainly isn't part of that job description.

Another scream erupted as Ellie ran for cover under a nearby armchair.

She didn't care about how stupid she looked, and she didn't care about the looks of horror on other people's faces, all she cared about was knitting her stupid bloody sweater, thank you very much.

… Not that she knew how to knit.

With a huff, she collapsed back onto the couch, randomly jabbing at the ball of yarn angrily. In all of the two hours and twenty-six minutes she'd been knitting, the ball remained unchanged. Except for becoming rather lumpier and frizzy, it looked exactly the same.

Sirius Black sniggered loudly at her pathetic knitting skills from across the room.

Her glare intensified as she stood slowly, fists and needles shaking at her sides.

"You think this is funny, Black?" She asked, voice dangerously low.

He smirked, face devoid of fear. "Yes," he answered smoothly.

Letting out a cry worthy of an African warrior, she drew back her fist and lodged the weapon of steel towards him. It soared across the room, aiming straight for his nose. Time seemed to slow as Sirius' eyes widened as he dove back in his chair to escape the oncoming threat, but the knitting needle's course was set.

The tip of the long pink rod came in contact with Sirius Black's nose. A large red dot appeared on top of his right nostril as he cried out in pain. "Damnit, Evans! What the bloody hell was that?"

"Vengeance," she answered with a cold, threatening tone.

Remus winced as his friend's conk began to swell. He stood up and gabbed his elbow. "Come on, then," he said rather tiredly. "Let's get you to the hospital wing."

The two hobbled out, leaving a terrified Peter sitting alone.

Lily sat back down with a satisfied smirk. That's right, she thought. Lily Evans sent Sirius Black to the Hospital Wing. Lily Evans, world class Superwoman- Teenage Witch- Knitter- Spinster Extraordinaire.

Beat that, James Potter.

She remained undisturbed for the next forty minutes as the other Gryffindors cowered in the corner. Many hastily ran up the stairs to seek refuge in their respective dormitories. Lily Evans and her knitting fumed by themselves quite happily.

That was, at least, until he showed up.

James Bloody Potter waltzed onto the landing of the boys dormitory stairs, hair perfectly messy. A glow seemed to surround his perfectly toned body as he flashed a smile that dazzled the entire common room.

Great, Lily moaned inwardly, I'm thinking like a romance novel.

Anger swelled inside of her as the hand holding the needle began to twitch. This was her moment. Oh yes, she'd show him how she really thought about him. All the love hate she felt building up exploded as once more, her arm pulled back and she lodged the needle at James Potter's face with all her strength. Once again, the needle remained on course. However, James Potter had other plans. He didn't see the thing coming, but at the last second, he turned. He then felt an enormous pain on his rear end.

He yelped and jumped into the air, rubbing his bum furiously. He turned back around, his face bearing a similar furious look. Lily couldn't help but cross her arms smugly over her chest as he smirked defiantly up at him.

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, and he gaped at her for quite a while. "What the hell was that for?" he asked angrily, still massaging his bum.

"I decided that you needed to face the consequences."

The look of complete puzzlement on his face grew. "And what the hippogriff did I do? I just came out here and got skewered by a knitting needle- what, did I come in the way? Were you aiming for this tapestry here? I admit its not very nice looking, but there's still no reason for you to attack my with a bloody weapon of mass destruction!"

Her eyes narrowed. "You know what you did."

"Actually, I really don't. Haven't the foggiest idea."

Before he realized what she was doing, the needle flew towards him again. He yelped once more as it jabbed him roughly in the side, sending him crashing into the banister. It then picked itself up and poked at him again, and again. He backed up as far as he could, half leaning out over the common room.

Then the needle went for his pants.

He squirmed a bit then flung himself over the side, flipping twice before landing on the ground in a heap. He scrambled up hurriedly as the needle swooped down after him. It followed him across the room, finally resting when he dove behind Lily and buried himself between the overly plump couch cushions.

"Get out," she ordered.

The pillow wiggled. "Is that bloody thing gone?"

"Yes."

"And you swear you won't attack me again?"

"Yes," she answered with crossed fingers.

There was a pause, then, "Fine."

James Potter wriggled out of the couch, hair even messier than before. His glasses were hanging at an odd angle, his cheeks were rosy pink.

Her stomach leapt into her mouth.

"Now," he said, resting his elbows on his knees and cradling his face. "Will you please tell me what that was about?"

"No," she said with a pout, holding onto her knitting angrily.

"You owe it to me," he said, waggling his finger. "And I know something's up. Everyone down here looks terrified! That bloke over there's wet himself!"

That Bloke Over There gave a slight whimper and ran out the portrait hole.

"I don't owe you anything," Lily said coldly.

James reached up and grabbed her arm, yanking her onto the seat next to him.

"Speak."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not a dog."

"That's right," he agreed. "Dogs know how to listen."

She sighed and picked up two more needles. James flinched.

"What are you doing?"

"Becoming a spinster."

He bit back a laugh. "And why're you doing that?"

"Because I've sworn off men. I'm celibate and a spinster and very happy about it!"

James paled at the mention of the word 'celibate.' "So, uh, that's it then?" he asked, voice hoarse.

"Yes," she answered firmly, prodding at the ball of red, lumpy yarn.

"So what prompted you to, er, make this…" he gulped. "Decision?"

"If you must know," she huffed, "I'm sick of falling in love with the wrong boys. They're obnoxious and arrogant and stupid, and I hate them, but no matter how hard I try… well, I don't."

"Don't what?"

"Hate them. I don't hate them. Trust me, I want to, I really do! But there's something… I don't know, special about them. Exciting, different. Something terrifying."

He paused. "Terrifying like being attacked by a rouge knitting needle?"

"Not exactly," she said, gazing into the fire. "It's scary, you know? Everything these boys make me feel isn't how it's supposed to go. I'm supposed to like the smart, studious boys with neat hair and bright futures but instead, I go for the ones with a permanent seat in detention and a head of hair that looks like its been run through the blender."

"The gender?"

"And I'm really, really sick of it! I just want to fling myself off the Astronomy Tower, because I didn't sign up for this!" Her anger grew, a rosy tint creeping onto her cheeks. "Boys are stupid! They're immature and obnoxious and don't take enough showers! So, I'm a spinster, and it's all your fault, James Potter!"

James nearly dropped dead from surprise. "I- you- what?"

She's stood up and violently kicked his shin, causing him to fly up into the air across from her.

"I hate you," she stated, taking an angry step towards him. "This is all your fault, all of it. I don't deserve this! I'm Head Girl, top of the class; I'm going to be an Auror! Then there's you. You're arrogant," she poked him roughly in the chest, making him stagger backwards. She took another step closer. "You're too smart for your own good," another poke. "You never brush your hair." Jab. "You don't care for anyone else." Poke. "You're-" A look of pain flashed over her face as she searched for the word. "You're you!" She concluded, jabbing him in the chest one final time.

Those brave enough to remain in the room expected a fight, a juicy one, a fight to leave every other argument between the two in the dust. Not one of them was expecting what happened next.

James Potter simply smiled, his eyes bright and shining. Before she could react, he grabbed Lily's arms, pulling her the remaining two centimeters between them.

"I'm sorry," he stated simply.

And then he kissed her.

Moving, Lily determined, was completely out of the question. And spinsters, after all, were supposed to be nice and caring and give cookies to young children. And although roughly kissing a very attractive seventeen-year-old boy wasn't part of that list, she decided that spinsters could make up their own rules.

Miss Lily Evans concluded that rule number one in her spinster handbook was kiss very attractive seventeen-year-old boys back. Hard. So she did.

In a far corner of the room, pink metal needles stained with James Potter's blood and a bit of Sirius' Blacks boogers rolled to a halt. A young boy crouched over it, frowning disappointedly. He shot a glare towards the young couple and sighed.

"Well that's just fantastic! These were my favorite pair!"

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A/N: That's it! Tell me what you think, and any ideas for another one. Thanks!