Confessions Of Lumpy Poo by Soupdragon
Summary:

Lily's thoughts are a sacred place. People think that head of hers stores valuable information for he next Potions assignment but those people are so wrong. In fact her head is filled with rather rude and amusing thoughts but she's strong as steel and keeps that in her instead of out.

But the arrival of a Veela causes her blood to boil and her thoughts to rapidly twist and churn in anger and all. Not only is ths Veela pretty, and french, she's also flirtacious. A dangerous mix. So what's this got to do with anything? Well, for one she's been messing around with a ton of boys making many girls so annoyed including our Lily here. Her thoughts start to leak which equals an hour of witty comments and laughing fits. This causes many heads to turn. Including one of those with messy hair.
Categories: James/Lily Characters: None
Warnings: Sexual Situations
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 2 Completed: No Word count: 3492 Read: 4330 Published: 03/17/07 Updated: 06/13/07

1. Lily, Lolly, Lumpy Poo by Soupdragon

2. "Snails covered in ze bread crumb..." by Soupdragon

Lily, Lolly, Lumpy Poo by Soupdragon
Author's Notes:
Thank you to my awesome beta, Trish!

Truly splendid. Fabulous. Remarkable. Marvelous.

This is so typical of my life. Lily Evans is the kid who works hard and is prefect, for goodness sake!

But no, Lily Evans does not have the French Veela hair.

Damn the Veela hair.

What about a chest?

Surely the gods would grant this female’s wish for a chest. Please. Pretty please?

A big one.

Because the flat-chested look isn't pretty.

And what about my cheekbones? I need them sculpted and looking sharp. They need to be able to cut through steel or else I'm not interested.

If jealously were fire I'd burn Miss Tamélie Emmanuel, foreign student from génial Paris (which means great Paris, pish tosh) to ash. Black ash. But not only that; rage and indescribable anger are also swirled in my delicate mix of emotions just now. You should hear her French insults. Simply horrendous! I could just kick her arse after that.

I went over to say “bonjour” and yes, she said hello back, but as I kept talking in babbled French she said loudly, sneering, "Tu me peles le jonc, Laurie." Charming. Simply charming. I get on her nerves? Lily Evans gets on her nerves? Well, then again, she hasn't officially met James.

I mean, Potter.

Am I going insane? Because I feel like it.

She hasn't seen the rest of me just yet. Plus, my name is Lily. Faux c'est nom, or however you say she is a wrong little minx and the name is Lily which by the way is far easier to say than her long, oozing-with-escargot name.

Tamélie. I'll call her Tam. So much easier... and shorter, actually.
You should've seen the way she flirted with Potter.
All that pathetic lip pouting with at least 5 centimetres of strawberry lip gloss on her lips, it was so thick! She looked too sticky to kiss, to be honest, and she was also applying some sort of powder thing on her neck with her head slightly tilted back, which, of course, showed how big her breasts were.

They were... simply huge.

No, seriously.

And all in front of Potter and the Marauders. They must be scarred for life now.

All the boys were goggling at her when she was staring up at Hogwarts' enchanted ceiling. And she claimed to have not “seened some of zis sort of enchantsment before.”

Lots and lots of boys are being dumped tonight all because of her.

Ho ho, I must admit, she does make me laugh.
If Tamélie and Potter were going out, well...
Tamélie would probably dump James.

I mean, Potter.
You know, since Tamélie is amazingly pretty and stuff.

Not that I like him or anything.
Meaning James not Tamélie of course. I hate her, that's obvious.
James is the one I've never liked and never will, by the way.

James is a miserable little toerag.
Not even a toerag, but a rag of a toerag.
James is a rag of a toerag.
Which, consequently, is far worse.
Did I say James? I meant Potter.
Annoying Mr. Potter.
Whom I don't give a care for.

Not one little bit of my heart is devoted to J” Potter.
I am officially going insane.

I'm lying here on the sofa right now. Fuming soundlessly and chewing ferociously on sour apple acid pops. The taste burns my tongue, seeing as apple never was my favourite flavour.

Sighing, obviously annoyed at my loud sucking and chewing, is my best friend, Lola Robinson. I smirk, sucking slower so as not to annoy her at all.

Lola Robinson is the biggest fusspot anyone could ever meet. One small problem and she'd be all over you, frowning and complaining endlessly. If the problem never got resolved she'd go into a huff for a bit until she has to talk to you. Everything would then be okay between the both of you once she opens her mouth. It's always been a conflict cure.

Well, for her.

But she’s such a good friend, so loyal and sweet that you have to be the one who would want to be forgiven. She knows how to keep a secret no matter how big or small and she wouldn't give in to the enemy” for example, Tamélie Emmanuel.

She is very pretty. Her hair has raven-black bangs which fall over her glasses when she ties her hair up. It’s highlighted with silver, as if trailed with riches, and her shoulder-length hair hugely complements her eyes and face. Her eyes on her tanned skin look like bright and shiny turquoise, and her nose is lightly dusted with freckles.

If she’s not being so fussy, she will become hyper at times and is really girly at heart. I smile. Lola has just reduced her constant tutting and continued reading a potions book, so I’m relieved. On my other side is my other best friend, Melissa Stepingale, arm wrestling with some notorious boys in the corner. I can hear the familiar whoop of victory from Melissa after winning yet again.

Melissa is different from Lola in many ways. For one, she’s such an annoying person to be around when she is ready to show off about something, and is also such an extreme gossip. Anything she hears will be shared out to different people, according to whom she’ll badly need to tell the new to, along with all the other useless people who won't give a damn.

Nobody is a bigger tomboy than her. She’s devoted to her fine sport of Quidditch and plays a Beater on the team. She’s always out in the air, or timing herself running around the school, or doing push-ups in the common room.

She’s very nice, though, and loads of fun. She always has some idea, either idiotic or serious. They’re not usually clever, but they’re still always so much fun! She looks the part of someone active and different. Her hair is always in a high ponytail, and among those straggly dirty-blonde hairs are streaks of all sorts of colours, from yellow to magenta; and when she’s out on her broom playing Quidditch, all you can see of her is a wave of a rainbow.

Her eyes are a shiny baby blue and sparkle when she’s in a competitive mode, during which she’ll also stick her jaw out and smirk slightly. Like a whisper of a smile.

Lola glares at me angrily, with one eyebrow raised so high you can't see it underneath her short fringe.

"Lily, don't get this annoyed at some Veela bimbo." Lola says encouragingly. I simply grunt, staring at the ceiling, my eyes fixed on a cobweb tucked in the corner of the room. "Lols, I can't help it. I get on her nerves, then I get some more French insults I can't understand, like “est-ce que vous êtes ivre?” You know, she said that after I was messing about with you and Mel..."

"Em... Lils, that sorta means... 'are you drunk?.' But I am so sure she didn't mean it in a bad way but as a joke!"

"Lola. She was sneering. Sneering ALWAYS means 'in a bad way.'”

Lola sighs, throwing her potions book on my head. "Ouch!"

"Pretend I'm Tamélie, quick!"

I smirk. This is the way Lola always wants to cheer me and Mel up. By role play.

I get into character, holding my breath so my face gets as red as my hair. "What in the bloody hell was that for?"

Lola looks at me with frightened eyes and gets down on her knees to pray in scattered French. "Lela Evone, I was just so..."

I giggle. "A bit more French, Lols, and that will do!"

"Zis is such un honour to be meeting c'est Leely Even who is the best."

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Tamélie?"

She fakes tears, sobbing into her hands and using her mascara to create runny lines of black down her cheeks. I can't help but laugh at how ridiculous my friend looks. "I am just so jealous of you, Leelah Evian!"

I give her a stage slap and scowl. "My name..." Hair flip, turn around, mysterious face... and then the icy finale. "...is Lily Evans."

Melissa snorts with laughter and, as I turn around to see her, the boys huddle around the corner, clutching their arms in pain. They are obviously planning to beat Melissa with the filthy looks they’re giving her ” which she cleverly ignores. She claps loudly, our only applause, yet Lola and I are thrilled as we bow.

"Wonderful, wonderful! The acting deserves an Oscar or something!" She hugs us both together by bunching our heads up under her armpits. I scrunch my nose up as a joke, and she punches me playfully on the arm when I escape.

"My armpits are not smelly, nor are they any smellier than yours, Lily Evans."

Lola scrunches her nose up for real when she gets out from under Melissa’s armpit and pretends to faint on the sofa. "Oh my goodness, they really do stink, Melly."

I laugh as Melissa crosses her arms and pouts.

"'Sank you, my dearest friend,” Lola says, grinning. “'Sank you so tres much anyway for watching us."

"Yeah, thanks for watching Lola make a complete fool of herself and for watching me boil up like a beetroot," I say enthusiastically.

And I guess that’s all it takes to cheer me up, and shortly after I just flop on my bed instead of the sofa, smiling, still fully dressed in my robes, and decide to doze off into sleep, without a care in the world.

That is, until I wake up.




Oh. My. GOD.

Here I was, hoping to dream of Ringo Starr from the Beatles in my sleep, cozily snug in the duvet, when old Peeves comes up and pours water on me. In the morning, too, my robes are positively soaking and I can feel the squelching on the inside soles of my school shoes. Along with this not-so-pleasant surprise is a stupid song composed by none other than Peeves. The little git.

"Lily's gonna be tardy. Lily's totally lardy!” Here he laughed through an obscene giggle. “Lily, lolly, lumpy poo! No one wants to be like YOU! Lily, lolly, smelly turd, face it, you look like an ugly bird! Squawk! Squawk!" Then he just ran away (Or rather... flew away? Because he is a poltergeist, after all), cackling and trying to find rude names rhyming with Lily. I think I just heard him say Willy. I am so going to get him.

Sob sob. He made me choke up with tears. Tears of anger ” that is, if there were such a thing. I will get him. Give me one more bloody day and I swear I will get him. And what's this about me being tardy? I'm never late, never slow... I'm not like that at all...

Oh. My. GOD.

I just missed half of breakfast! The cupcakes... and toast! They're calling my name! Lily, that is, not Willy or Lumpy Poo, or Smelly Turd, or even... Oily, I think I hear Peeves saying.

Feel free to call me Lumpy Poo, actually. Sounds rather... cute, in a disgusting way. But only between us.

No, it's official: I am insane. Not only am I calling myself an extremely embarrassing name, but I'm sharing it with my thoughts and only my thoughts. SHUT UP.

What am I doing? I'm wasting time right now and Tamélie’s probably snogging some 5th years in a broom closet for all I know!

And I need to be there to give her a detention. Filch and the Forbidden Forest will do today. If he's not up for that, I don't know what will. Though he might be busy, probably having a romantic dinner with Mrs. Norris.

My thoughts are showing some rather graphic images.

Which I should not describe just now. See, look, I'm shivering.

Wish me luck... lots of it. Tamélie Emmanuel is about to get hit. Hard. IF I spot her sucking the face off a 4th year or something.

.

"Snails covered in ze bread crumb..." by Soupdragon
Author's Notes:
Thanks again to my fantabulous beta, Trish!

Merlin, help me!

Do you know how ridiculous I looked, hair straggly and wet, bursting through the Great Hall doors? Oh, I looked ridiculous; no, not even ridiculous ” can I even describe how I looked? I mean it, I looked horrible. What was worst about this whole experience was that Tam wasn't snogging anybody, but wrapping her silvery blond hair around her index finger and talking about French bread to all her Gryffindor buddies, who were all male, obviously.

My shoes squelched as I walked over to Lola and Melissa. I could feel hundreds of eyes travel over my hair and soaked robes as I yelled, "Don't worry, it was Peeves!" My friends had so kindly reserved a seat for me next to the notorious Marauders, who were listening intently to Tam speak in her thick French accent and were mimicking her moans of pleasure at the hearing of 'snails covered in ze bread crumb.’ Three syllables. Pa-the-tic.

"Thanks Lola, Mel, for this absolutely terrific seat," I said acidly, scowling at the two as they looked down at their food, embarrassed. I was feeling too bad to listen to another word from anyone around me…

"Hi, Evans."

Damn, damn, damn!

"Keep away, Potter! One more chirp of 'hello, Evans' from you and I'll personally strangle you with a long string of your own earwax!" I could feel my face burning up to see James Potter sitting there next to me, a box of Firewhisky chocolates in his hand, frowning. God, he looked sweet.

"I bought this yesterday for Peter's birthday, but apparently he can't drink Firewhisky just yet; so I thought I'd give this to you." I chuckled and grabbed the box quickly so as not to embarrass myself any further.

"Thanks. This will be perfect on a depressing night," I said, smirking. I scowled at him when he eyed me up and down. "Are you a bit slow, Potter? I already told everyone it was Peeves. I don't go swimming fully clothed in the morning."

Potter smirked at me and raised his eyebrows. "Sure you don't, Evans.

"I could feel my jaw drop as Tam laughed heartily at this joke. She was sitting two seats away and clapped her hands together to her chest, probably thinking he was such a cute prankster. Oh, don't worry; inside I'm scoffing.

"Oui, Leila. Careful of ze James here!" she giggled annoyingly, her hair bouncing up and down on her shoulders. She stood up, checked her reflection in a compact mirror, and beamed at James Potter before she proceeded to her next class, probably making sure to arrive early to flirt with the professor.

Oh my goodness, what is wrong with me? I don't like speaking nastily of people; but then again, this is all in my head.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next, I had Astronomy with Professor Sinistra and, luckily enough, Tam wasn't there to bug me or stupidly ask me for the direction of the nearest star. That would actually be kind of funny.

Lola and Mel keep annoying me though. They heard me last night, whispering 'my name is lumpy poo' over and over again, which was ultimately embarrassing because now they call me either L.P., Lumpy, or blow a raspberry if I'm the one that is annoying them.

“L.P, pass us the telescope-thing!” Lola called over to me from across the room. Peter looked up from his star chart and looked over at me, confused. “Lily, your last name is Evans. Why-''

“Zip it, Peter!” Peter glared angrily at me and continued drawing fractured images of stars on his star chart. I couldn't help but look sadly in his direction, but I was then interrupted by the smirking, tall image of Sirius holding a telescope, in a pose that he obviously thought made him look like a stud but didn't.

“Oi, Evans!”

I sighed and stared at Sirius, pursing my lips together in annoyance. “Oi back, Black!”

“Yeah, yeah, 'nuff with the wordplay.” I scoffed at his words and rolled my eyes as he started to grab me by the elbow and dragged me to the far corner of the room, hoisting the telescope on his shoulders, in a better attempt at trying to look sexy this time as a couple girls pretended to swoon. Sarcastically, maybe.

As we stopped at the corner, he smirked at me, and I just glared at him, confused and angry.

“What, Sirius?”

''Tell me if I'm wrong, but does the P in your latest nickname mean Potter? Lily Potter, in full?”

“Oh God!”

“No, I'm not exactly God but I am a frightening resemblance.” He ran his hand through his hair as he winked at the swooning girls; they giggled and blew kisses back at him. Sarcastically? Again I do not know.

“No it does not, for your information. Are you serious?” I scoffed once more and he shook his shoulders.

“Yes, I am, actually. And I don't think I believe you, Evans.''

“Good Merlin, Sirius! Drop it. It doesn't mean a thing!”

“Well, I believe my old chum deserves some respect for using up all his money on a huge box of Firewhisky chocolates for yourself. What do you repay him with? With pure cruelty, of course. I think you're feeling pretty sorry for him, hence I sense a little crush.” He jabbed a finger into my shoulder blade and I winced in pain.

“Don't be so thick. I was a mere alternative for Peter Pettigrew, stupid.”

“My name's not Stupid either, Evans. And no, they were not for Peter, thicko, they were for you!”

“Oh, surely.” I rolled my eyes, but something deep inside me glowed with pleasure. Whatever.

“For God's sake, Evans, my name is not Shirley, either!”

I threw my arms up in despair and stalked back to my table. I felt warm air hit my ear as a whispered voice said, “Actually, I changed my mind; maybe I am God, those girls sure seem to think so.” I looked towards the swooning girls as they knelt down to the floor and pretended to worship Sirius, flailing their arms up and down until Sirius did a raunchy strip tease for them. They squealed in delight.

I screamed and looked disgusted for a while and was then sent out for what Professor Sinistra thought was a nervous breakdown or some sort of disease from too much lunar activity. Sirius was then sent out a couple minutes later for indecent exposure. He then started pestering me again about the nickname. Are all boys like this?

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I couldn't help but think of Potter all day. Damn Sirius for bringing Potter's name up in Potions. Lola and Melissa were quiet today after Astronomy; they didn't say a peep to me at all during Potions AND Charms. Professor Flitwick was literally shocked as hell at me not paying attention, and kept thinking I wasn't listening because someone unknowingly cast a Muffliato on me. I didn't mind that rumour going round, so I decided to say, “What did you say?” whenever Flitwick was talking to me; and in Potions, Professor Slughorn was exceptionally pleased when I created a potion to relieve stress. I was far too stressed and worried to drink it, however, even though that was my plan.

I had a free period after that so I decided to walk back to the common room to get some answers out of Lola or Melissa. But what do you know, who would stop me but Mr. Potter himself. God, now he was with a bouquet of flowers, pretty white roses and daffodils.

“Bonjour, Potter,” I said sarcastically, pointing in the direction of



Tamélie, who was sharing a packet of Bertie Botts' Beans with Frank
Longbottom, Alice was hovering nearby, glowering. She looked ready to snap Frank's glasses in two as he gave Tam a bean.

“No, they aren't for Tamélie, they're for you.”

“Oui?” I squeaked, raised my eyebrows and pointed my wand at it, ready to cast any spell that would reveal the hidden contents within the bouquet, just in case. They were probably self-destructive flowers or what not.

“No, they're fine, I used Orchideous.” He blushed deeply and stroked each petal gently as he did so. “See?”

“I see.” I smiled. “...But if these flowers do anything to my face, I swear I'll cast a Jelly Leg Jinx on you.”

He chuckled nervously and opened his mouth, closed it again, then opened it yet again.

“Go on, Potter.”

“Nah, it doesn't matter. I'll see you around, Evans. Stay away from Muffliato Charms.”

He ran away towards the stairs and rounded the corner when I called his name. This is so strange. I walked up to Alice, ready to calm her down; her face was already beetroot by this time. Tam was now playing about, sitting in Frank's lap and singing a French song. Disgusting.

“So, shall we push her off and insult her or use the classic Bat Bogey hex?” I giggled at this joke but Alice just stared at me, her eyes full of fire, and walked off without even a simple hello. I stared confusedly after her and pushed up my tie. Presentation was probably important to her or something. Or maybe not.

Lumpy Poo, what's wrong with you?

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