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A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting this chapter... it took a little longer than expected. But never fear, it is here now... Thank you to all who have reviewed already, I really appreciate it. And a big shout out to all those who have migrated to this story who were previous reviewers of SAB... great to hear from you again! I really hope that you enjoy it! =)

Chapter 2: Jealous? Me?

Oh, why can’t stupid, daft, jealous, sex crazed, sixteen year old females just let me sleep?! The pillow does nothing to muffle their hysterical giggles and high pitched squeals of laughter. I think I have heard enough about each of their love lives to happily live in a toilet bowl filled to the brim with my own vomit!

Perhaps I am over exaggerating. But who cares, right? I am being deprived of sleep once again! And you all thought I was just some insomniac freak? Well, you are wrong. Fact of the matter is; I can’t sleep even when the girls I unfortunately have to share my dorm with are snoring their hair roller covered heads off. After their nightly conversations come to a close I usually just lay there in a state of complete disgust and shock for hours on end. You would too if you were to hear what I have to endure every freaking night!

I can feel your curiousity from here. Understand me; these nightly chats are degrading. I feel dumber when I have to listen to them. But, just for you, I’ll attempt to remember the most memorable moments of my nights in this very dormitory. Don’t blame me if you opt for my blessed toilet bowl for the rest of your life after you hear about this. I did warn you! Their conversations are as follows:

“Blah, blah, blah and he took me to the back of the broom shed. And, my gosh, does he have a tongue on him or what?! I was paralyzed with this need to just strip him right there!” Resounding gasps that slither through the fabric of my pillow and into my ears sound at this particular moment, “But of course I didn’t! I would be known as a slut for the rest of my time at Hogwarts, and I don’t want that at all. But you know; if I were to do it with a guy, I want to be plastered against the broom shed wall.” Many wistful sighs echo into silence as though that were possibly the most romantic thing any of these air brained girls have ever heard.

Gosh, the image of Peter Pettigrew making sweet, sweet love to a broomstick would have these girls lapping at his feet. Just the thought of that makes me want to contribute my stomach contents to the toilet bowl. Shudder.

Would you like to hear more, or have you had enough?

Wait a moment, maybe you are in luck. I doubt there is any need for me to be looking back on the many nights like this one. For this particular night tops the lot.

“You know who would be interesting to get into such a situation?” One of the girls, Sally, began, looking at all the wide gleaming eyes fixed on her in turn.

“Who, Sally?” The girls chorused.

I groan loudly beneath my blessed pillow thankful for its existence. For, without it, they would be able to see my sickly pale face as I waited for Sally to finish her statement. Not that I care at all. I just need to know who the “Perfect Boyfriend” popularity status will be given to this time round. Last time it was Frank Longbottom in Seventh Year, but he was dethroned when he started going out with Alice Prewett. The replacement? Sirius Black of course. When I heard that I laughed out loud and was then kicked out of the dormitory for the rest of the night. I mean, how addled are these girls brains? Sirius Black? Perfect Boyfriend? Pfft, they are dreaming.

What I know for sure, is that the next boy who is mentioned by Sally will be the new “It” boy. Students, male and female alike will be fawning over him, hoping to snag him or learn from him. I can feel sympathy pour out of me unconsciously for this unnamed boy.

“Don’t leave us hanging, Sal! Come on! Tell us!” One of the girls, a ditzy blonde that every story is nothing without nudges vocally in a hysterical whisper.

“Shh, Anne! He might hear you!” Sally snaps, exasperated.

The room is filled with a shocked silence.

I hold back my gasp. Don’t think I am enjoying this, I just want to know and if I start making unnecessary noises I may just miss who it is.

“He’s a Gryffindor?” The girls squeal in excitement.

I can only assume Sally nods in response to the pointless question for she continues without any inclination that the girls had interrupted her, “See, some of you may not realize, but there are a lot of factors that contribute to the naming of the “Perfect Boyfriend”, you know.”

A rogue giggle escapes from my mouth at that moment, just to be muffled by my pillow as I jam it sharply into my face. Oh god, she can’t be serious!

“One: He must be very good looking.”

Sighs echo in the dormitory.

“Two: He must be smart. At least, a little bit.”

Excited whispers resound. I stuff my pillow deeper into my face.

“Three: Must be good at sports.”


“Four: Very popular.”

This sounds like someone I know…

“And lastly: Be a part of a group.”

Oh, no. Not him. Anyone but him!

“You all know who I’m talking about!” Sally encourages the girls quickly, “It’s not that difficult!”

There is a deafening silence, until someone says the cursed words, “James Potter?”

Two hours later and I am still awake. I can’t stop staring at this particular tear in my four-poster’s curtains. Why, oh why does it have to be “The Prat”? It could have been Remus! Even Peter! They could have given Sirius another go! But Potter? OH GOD. He’s ego is already big enough, even with my periodic attempts at popping it. But with this new title? We are all goners! We are going to all suffocate in Potter Ego!


It’s been two days since that horrific overheard conversation and my eyes are practically glued open. I can’t sleep. Really I can’t. Warm milk does nothing. Even reading History of Magic text books is too enthralling. I think I am loosing my mind. I can’t say that I didn’t expect; I knew it was coming. But I just needed a little bit of time to get used to the idea. Maybe a year or two? Yeah that would have been perfect, because then I wouldn’t be locked in a castle, isolated from all known landmarks, for an entire year.

I shove my packed trunk at the foot of my bed in a fit of frustration gaining a few strange looks from the girls who have made me like this. Them and their stupid nightly conversations! Them and their stupidity in naming him as the new “Perfect Boyfriend”!

I bite my lip to keep the tears back. You may be thinking that I am over reacting and just being a stupid little cry baby. But if I ever heard you say that, I would kill you. Mark my words. I HATE BEING FRUSTRATED, TIRED, IRRITATED AND STARED AT LIKE I AM A MENTAL CASE!

“What the hell are you looking at?!” I bark, glaring through my frustration filled tears at the girl who had stolen my sleep from me. The “Idiotic Dog” named Sally.

She blinks at me in response and turns and leaves. But just as I am about to be left alone, Sally turns back to me with a very disgusting smile on her face. God, does she have to show the world that? Ew! “You hate me don’t you?”

“Yes.” I say simply. What? I don’t want to be known as a liar.

“Why is that?” Sally continues, tapping her foot on the timber floor.

I scowl; how dare she question my hate? I shouldn’t have to justify my reasons for not liking her! “Because I don’t, alright?” I reply. You know that I am holding back, right?

Sally growls like the dog she is, “The amazing Lily Evans can’t even come up with a good excuse, or at least a good insult?” She smiles gloatingly, “You know, I reckon you are jealous.” She holds up a hand to my opening mouth to stop my future interruption.

My eyes darken with suppressed anger. How dare she treat me like a child? Like a hand is going to stop me from saying anything I like. But amid all my misgivings, I keep quiet. In a way, I am curious to know exactly what I am jealous of. Funny, some one as stupid as Sally could know about my emotions before me?

“Jealous?” I ask finally, gripping hard onto one of my bed’s posts.

“Yeah, that’s what I said, Evans! You are jealous that more girls have the knowledge of and the chance with James Potter now that I have named him next years “Perfect Boyfriend”. You are worried that you may miss out on the usual amount of attention that he shows you and divides it up among girls like me who appreciate the person he is and what he looks like.” Sally smiles mockingly in my direction.

I freeze in shock and amazement that some one could be so wrong and stupid and look smug at the same time. It took me a moment to gain my voice, “Oh, no Sally. You have the wrong end of the situation, obviously. I hate Potter. I don’t have secret feelings for him or anything like that. I’m not demented.” I conclude. I just know that I look as white and transparent as a ghost.

“Look at your face! I know that you are lying, Lily Evans.” Sally accuses me immediately.

I glare at her, “You know what, Sally? I think you are the jealous one! Just because Potter has this sick infatuation with me, doesn’t mean I like him in return. Gosh, if you want him so badly, have him. I’m not going to stop you.”

Sally looks taken aback, slightly. Not as much as I would like her to be, but it’s a start. “But you will! I just know it! And besides, I have no chance with James. It’s not just a sick infatuation, Evans, I really think he loves you.”

“Sally, you are insane. Potter doesn’t love me, I think the closest to love he has ever felt is towards his broomstick or his ridiculous hair. Since you have finished accusing me of jealousy that you are obviously the one suffering from this emotion, I’ll be downstairs if you wish to apologize to me.” And I leave without another word.
The nerve of her! How could she ever come to the conclusion that I would be jealous of any of the girls in this damn school? I know for a fact that it is the other way around! I have been told innumerable times! Why do they suddenly have to change their story?

I run down the marble staircase at a rapid pace, hoping to distance myself from the dormitory and the Common Room at the same time. Like hell I am going to wait around for an apology. I’ll go to the Great Hall, that way, if she comes looking for me or any of her other fellow canines it will be a difficult for them to pick me out in the mass of chattering, eating students.

I have to get out of here, the walls seem like they are closing in on me. Is it just my imagination or is there many more eyes on me then what is normal?

My feet skip down the stairs as though they are possessed; I don’t have to look where I am going. I know these stairs like the back of my h –.

I’m falling! Why didn’t I look where I was going? The opening to the stair case is coming closer! In just a moment I will fall flat on my face, carpet pushing unmercifully into my eyes.

Then, suddenly, I am suspended in mid air. I’m not hurt in anyway. But my arms are feeling as though they are bruising as I think. I blink a few times; you know when people get a bit of a shock and they blink? Yeah? With me, it happens automatically; I don’t have to think about it. But my eyes seem like they are in hysterics when they blink in shock. They continue to blink until my mind shuts the blinking mechanism off. I must look like such a dolt right now, but who cares right? I’m not dead! Blinking is the least of my worries.

Or is it?

“Alright, Evans?” A voice says slowly in my ear as though I were some hearing challenged person.

The blinking slows its speed and I just look as though I have a rather annoying piece of dust in my eye. I blow a chunk of hair out of my eyes and look up with much difficulty while I reply with, “Yes, thank yo –”

And no, I am not incapable of finishing sentences. Just the sight of James Potter so utterly close at hand could make anyone loose track of the words they were saying. Some girls get it because the “breath gets knocked out of them just from looking into his eyes.” But the rest, meaning me, feel as though they are about to dry retch for a few minutes. The duration of time looking at James Potter obviously has an affect on the amount of minutes dry retching.

About to proceed to make this disgusting sound I find myself unable to move. Reason: James Potter is in possession of my arms holding me horizontal against the stairs saving me from the deathly fall.

“Let go of me Potter,” I snarl, struggling against his tightening grip. Why, when anyone says that, the grip always tightens? Shouldn’t that be the moment that you let go?

Potter is turning white. Don’t ask me why; Potter’s mind works in a strange and completely abnormal way compared to any normal brain, like mine for example.

“Could you at least put me upright?” I snap, my face turning red from the effort I am putting into not falling. Those stairs are looking very hard and painful for my bones right now.

“I can’t! I might drop you!” Potter pleads in a tired whisper. His arms start to shake.

“Perform a charm or something! I can’t stay like this forever!” I screech, my eyes starting this hysterical blinking once again.

“I can’t do that either! If you haven’t noticed, I don’t have any arms free to reach my wand. They’re too busy saving you from falling.”

I sigh heavily in exasperation. “Then get one of your Marauders to do it. DO SOMETHING!”

“SIRIUS!” Potter yells, unfortunately, in my ear. I jump in surprise, my arms collapsing upon them selves causing me for fall directly into Potter. ARRRRRR!!!!

Ouch, my head. Opening my eyes I see my limbs sprawled all over Potter in an awkward and very embarrassing position. Red in the face, I gather myself together along with my pride and dignity and sweep out of the Common Room amid a lot of curious stares.

Hogwarts Express here I come.

A/N: There you go... thank you very much for reading and reviewing...

If you wish to join the mailing list which means that you receive and email telling you when I update, please leave your email in a review! Thanks again! =)

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