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Well Worth the Trouble

"If it doesn't work out there will never be any doubt that the pleasure was worth all the pain." ~ Jimmy Buffet


I dashed through the corridors, dodging students left and right as I hurried back to the Gryffindor common room as fast as I could possibly manage without looking like an idiot. I had left Remus behind long ago; of course, he probably wouldn’t want to be there, seeing as he had let slip the secret, the reason I was running like a madwoman through Hogwarts on Valentine’s Day.

I skidded to a stop in front of the portrait hole. "Er, pixie dust," I gasped, tossing my bag over my shoulder as it slipped down once again.

The Fat Lady winked. "Hot date, then?" she asked.

I gave her a withering look and jumped through the doorway. I was too late.

The common room was packed with Gryffindors just back from class and getting ready for the Valentine Day’s feast in the Great Hall. Some of the older students had paired off, holding hands and exchanging gifts, even snogging as they waited. The younger students milled around in large groups, obviously not ready to spend quality one-on-one time with the opposite sex, even on a holiday.

James was sitting in a large, cushy chair, a distant and dreamy look on his face. Sirius was standing in front of him, looking smugly triumphant, while Peter shook his head behind him as if regretting something. I may not have liked the arrogant prat, but even I thought this was a bit much for Black and his marauding sense of humour.

"You didn’t!" I exclaimed, pushing Sirius out of the way and dropping my bag as I knelt in front of James. The poor guy was completely gobsmacked. He looked at me with the most ridiculous grin on his face.

"Hi, Lily!" he chirped, his voice overly cheerful, like he had downed six too many Butterbeers. He never called me by my first name; that was a big clue right there that something was indeed going on.

"Brilliant, Potter." I shook my head as I stood. "Just brilliant."

He frowned like he didn’t even understand my words. He struggled up, wobbly from the affects of the potion I knew he had consumed, and threw his arm around my shoulder.

"How so? Because I’m in love with the most beautiful woman in the world?" He wiggled his eyebrows at me and winked. "By the way, have you seen her? Is she coming to dinner?"

Sirius burst out laughing. Peter looked from Sirius to James to me as if he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or not. Something else was going on. I whirled on Sirius, throwing James away from me. He stumbled and fell to the ground in an undignified heap. The common room twittered, and several students turned to observe what was probably going to be a good show.

"All right, Black," I snapped, glaring daggers at him. "Out with it. What exactly did you do to him?"

"Aw, Evans," he said, hands up as if he could defend himself from my temper. "We’re just having some holiday fun." His grey eyes twinkled mischievously, but I knew from experience that his definition of fun was quite different than mine.

James staggered to his feet again and threw his arm around Sirius this time. "Yeah, Lily, back off. Sirius was just delivering my Valentine’s gift. He didn’t do anything wrong."

"Of course," I replied, as if talking to a child. I was trying to piece things together. "So what was it?" I asked, trying to sound casual. "Flowers? Candy?" A kick in the arse, I thought to myself.

"A box of Chocolate Frogs," James replied proudly, the dreamy look reappearing. "From Henrietta Pilloughs."

Peter couldn’t hold it in anymore and snorted as he turned around to cover his laughter. I glared at him, expecting better from the quietest of the crew. Sirius literally bit his lip to keep from bursting out laughing. I shook my head: so it wasn’t what I had thought, but it could be even worse.

"Chocolate from a fifth-year Hufflepuff you’ve never met?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Obviously Sirius had Confunded James so he wouldn't question the gift. "And you ate them?"

"Of course I did!" he exclaimed. "Why wouldn’t I? She’s adorable, after all."

I glared at Sirius, giving him my best "what-the-hell-were-you-thinking?" look. Henrietta Pilloughs might be adorable in some ways, but she was also short, shy, and broke out in nervous boils every time a boy looked at her. She stuttered to a complete stop if one ever tried to talk to her. She was sweet, but she was a prime target for others to pick on already. Why her? Didn’t she have enough to deal with without thinking James Potter had suddenly and inexplicably fallen in love with her on Valentine’s Day?

"How strong was the potion?" I hissed at Sirius as James stumbled off toward the portrait hole. Remus had finally entered the common room and was trying to sneak up to the dormitory with a guilty look on his face. So they were all in on it.

"About as strong as the one he gave me last month," Sirius whispered back, grinning like a Kneazle who had just swallowed a pixie.

I stared at him again. That had been a hell of a potion James had cooked up for Sirius. Sirius had spoken Swahili for days, somehow managing to hide it from the professors but growing increasingly annoyed with his classmates when no one could understand him. Remus and Peter had finally felt so bad for him that they had begged me to sneak them an antidote.

"So this is the thanks I get for helping you out? You try to scare a year off my life by making me think he’s obsessed with me?" I asked, watching James deliver a stirring ode to Henrietta Pilloughs in the center of the common room. She would be so mortified when she heard about it.

"Oh, he doesn’t need a potion for that," Sirius replied. "But, yes—for the side effects of that antidote, my thanks." He winked as he ran his hand through his short, spiky hair and moved off toward James. I sighed as it clicked. Yes, I admit it: I had snuck a few drops of Colour Change potion into the antidote so that while Sirius had come back to his native language rather quickly, his hair had not. It had changed colour for weeks, every day blazing a different shade of violent violet or grotesque green. His hair was his most prized possession, and he had finally just lopped it off in irritation. Really, he looked better, even if I wanted to punch him in the face right now.

"Have fun keeping him out of trouble, Lily Miss Prefect," Sirius laughed over his shoulder. I hated that nickname. "I have a date with detention!" Oh, he had planned it well: leak to me that James was about to take a love potion that would make him fall madly in love with me and hope that I would rush in to stop it, only to have him fall for Henrietta Pilloughs instead, then run off to detention so I would still be stuck with James and my conscience.

Extremely convoluted, but completely Sirius Black.

Although…when I thought about it, that wasn’t nearly enough payback for the forced haircut. I’d seen him arrange way worse for far lesser offenses. There was a twist coming, and I’d have to see this through carefully to make sure I didn’t miss it.

Sirius went up to James and clapped him on the back. He said something to him that I couldn’t hear, pointed at me, and then loped off through the portrait hole. Remus and Peter gave James a little push forward and followed Sirius. I didn’t think they had detention, but then they had been in on it; they were obviously ditching the scene of the crime so I’d have little choice but manage James on my own.

It was subtle, but it was good. James Potter drove half the tower mad with his endless ego and penchant for pranks. He tricked and goaded loads of other students, so it was doubtful anyone would want to help him out on Valentine’s Day. I was the sixth-year prefect; it was practically my responsibility, especially with Remus’s not-so-subtle escape.

I gritted my teeth at the irony. James pushed my buttons, and I tried my best to push his back. I’d wager five Galleons our rows were some of the most spectacular in the school. It was like sticking me with my mortal enemy and expecting me to save his life: of course I would, but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

"So, ready to go?" asked James, trying to smooth his hair. It never worked: it was always a mess, and every time he touched it I wanted to chop his hands off. "Is she meeting us outside or at dinner?"

"Who?" I asked, thoroughly irritated with my lot this night.

"Henrietta!" he exclaimed. "Sirius said you’d hook me up with her."

"Sirius was wrong," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Aw, Evans—come on!" James stood in front of me, his hazel eyes sparkling madly behind his glasses. Merlin, it was more annoying than a puppy dog licking an ice cream cone.

"Potter, do you have any idea what’s going on?" I asked, trying to remain composed, even though I wanted to wring Black’s neck.

"Yes," he replied, taking my hand. My eyes widened as he dragged me toward the portrait hole. "You’re going to introduce me to Henrietta Pilloughs."

"No, I’m not," I replied, yanking my hand away.

"But I love her!" he exclaimed, and he sounded like he meant it. It must have been a hell of a potion that Sirius brewed this time.

"No, you don’t," I said under my breath. The entire common room turned to watch. "You only think you do. Sirius gave you a love potion." I knew right then I wouldn’t survive spending the entire night with him. I had to fix him and ditch him as soon as possible. Maybe some food would help dilute the effects.

"Bollocks," he replied, waving me away. "You’re just jealous. Well, you had your chance—I’m taken now."

I stopped and smacked him. Hard.

"Ow!" he cried. We stepped through the portrait hole. "What the hell was that for?"

"That was for being such an arse," I snapped.

"So jealous," he murmured again, glancing sideways at me as I dragged him through the corridors.

I stopped again and pushed him against the wall, tempted to pull out my wand. "Get this through your thick head, Potter. I’m not…"

I trailed off as a group of seventh-years went by, laughing and smiling as they clomped off toward the Great Hall. James stared at them, his eyes strangely unfocused. I thought he was going to start drooling, he watched them so hard and so long.

"Oi, pinhead!" I waved my hand in front of his face, and he startled himself back to life. "What’s up with you?"

"Serena Miller," he said in that same dreamy voice he had used earlier. I sensed trouble. "What a doll."

"Oh no," I muttered as I suddenly understood: Serena Miller was one of the seventh-years who had just walked by. Sirius had apparently charmed some of the chocolate to make James fall in love with a different girl. I dreaded the possibility of there being even more. James started to run after her, but I grabbed him and pulled him back the other way.

"I don’t think so," I told him, holding him firmly by the arm as he craned his head backwards. "She’s with Simmons."

"I can take him," James said, trying to shake me off. I held on tight.

"He’s twice your size and has a mean left Stunner," I said. I cursed James's friends under my breath. They had done this to him; they should be keeping him out of trouble. Yet they had stuck me with the job of making sure he didn’t embarrass himself, our house, or even worse—end up in the hospital wing with Simmons’s wand sticking out of his ear.

"Come on, let’s go another way," I said, thinking we would take the long way to the Great Hall in the hopes of avoiding any more possible triggers. "We’ll meet her there." He was strangely compliant as he waxed philosophical about Serena Miller’s ruby-red lips and made empty threats against her boyfriend, Derek Simmons. I rolled my eyes until I thought they would roll right out of my head.

I wasn’t sure what we would do when we got to the Great Hall. I prayed to the gods of magic that whatever hapless girl Sirius had picked next for James’s ardent infatuation would not be there for some lucky reason. It was a fool’s hope, though, for as soon as we walked in, James stopped and went all wonky on me again.

"Penny," he sighed, his gaze fixed on the Slytherin table. I was desperately looking for Remus and Peter, although I was fairly certain they wouldn’t show their faces until the night was over. Before I could stop him, James had rushed up to sixth-year Penny Pinkerson (whom he had always taunted as Stinky Pinky P during Potions,) and literally fell to his knees in front of her.

I darted after him but didn’t catch what he said. I only saw her frown and smack him across the face. The guy next to her—some brutish-looking seventh-year I didn’t know—rose and started cracking his knuckles. James sprawled on the floor, looking about as undignified as I had ever seen him, and for some reason I felt bad for the poor guy. Two slaps in one night. I hurried over and helped him up.

"Sorry, he’s not himself," I apologized. "Bad chocolates." I dragged him away as he called out to Penny, who was trying to calm down her bull of a boyfriend with a friendly snog to the neck.

I muttered another curse to Sirius Black under my breath as I plunked James down at the end of the Gryffindor table and started loading a plate for him. He just stared moony-eyed at Stinky Pinky. I seriously wanted to leave him there and run for my life, but my conscience wouldn’t let me. I set the plate in front of him and said something about how maybe some pot roast would help him get over her; instead, he pushed the mashed potatoes around with his fork like some third-year who had just discovered that girls existed.

And then Professor McGonagall walked by, heading toward her seat at the front dais with the occasional wave to her house. She frowned at James and me, obviously unused to seeing us together—at least, together and not screaming insults at one another. James dropped his fork and stood, glass-eyed again, with his mouth hanging open. All down the table I could hear snickers from the Gryffindors who had witnessed his sorry state in the common room and knew what was about to happen.

Before James could do anything else to embarrass us, I jumped up, grabbed his hand, and dragged him from the hall. He tilted his head back and shouted, "Professor McGonagall! You’re my favorite cat in the entire castle! I love you!"

The hall exploded in laughter, and I could imagine McGonagall’s eyebrows crawling up under her hat. Professor Dumbledore was probably laughing inside, his blue eyes twinkling merrily as always, old coot. I was sure my own face was flaming even though I had nothing to do with it; I was just the babysitter unable to control her unruly child.

I’d had it. It would be difficult, but I had to try: I had to brew the antidote. I hauled James toward the Potions classroom in the dungeons.

"How many chocolates did you eat?" I demanded. He was babbling about McGonagall’s silver bun as if it were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen—and she’d been wearing a hat.

"Huh?" he asked. "Oh—six."

Helga’s girdle—six different chocolates, six different girls. How had Sirius managed to pull this off? A standard love potion was complicated enough; I’d wager he had charmed each piece of chocolate to tie it to a different girl. He was good—very good. I counted the girls in my head: Henrietta Pilloughs, Serena Miller, Penny Pinkerton, and Professor McGonagall. That left two more fits of unrequited love unless we somehow managed to avoid the last two subjects.

We didn’t.

In fact, we walked right into Maria Poblano, a drop-dead gorgeous Ravenclaw. She had long black hair and even longer black eyelashes that she batted at every boy she walked by. She combed that hair like it was Rapunzel’s ladder or something. I often wondered how she ended up in Ravenclaw, but she was as vain about her grades as she was about her appearance, so I guess that’s why.

She was tucked into a window niche snogging her latest seventh-year-of-the-month. James let out a loud gasp when he saw them and twisted out of my grasp to hurry toward her. She glanced disdainfully over the boy’s shoulder, frowning at us.

"Find your own spot, Evans," she snapped haughtily, completely ignoring James.

"No problem," I said, dragging James away before he got smacked again. He moaned forlornly as we hurried down to the Potions classroom. Only one girl left. Hopefully I could get him the antidote before he ran into her, because I was rapidly approaching the point where I was just going to let him make an arse of himself rather than try and stop him.

We finally reached the Potions classroom. To my dismay, Professor Slughorn was still there. Apparently his last class had made quite a mess, because he was magically cleaning some sort of green goo from the walls and muttering under his breath about those damn third-years. I stopped short and James bumped into me, knocking us over. The sound of us crashing to the floor in an unseemly heap alerted Slughorn to our presence, and he looked up in surprise.

Slughorn was one of my favorite professors, and I was one of his favorite students. I was good at potions, and even though I was Muggle-born, Slughorn was impressed with my skills. We got on extremely well. He smiled at me, but then frowned when he saw my companion. I felt myself flush in embarrassment as I considered the many disappointing thoughts that were probably running through his head.

"Hi, Professor," I said, forcing myself to smile as I stood up. "I’m sorry to bother you, but I was hoping to brew a potion…"

I trailed off as James slumped into a chair and put his head down on the nearest desk. I thought he was going to pass out, but saw that his shoulders were shaking, and not with laughter. Slughorn raised his eyebrows. "Love potion?" he asked.

I nodded mutely, mortified.

"Strong one, too, from the looks of it—not yours, I hope?" he continued. I wanted to crawl into the storage cupboard and stay there for a week.

"No—oh no," I stammered. "Er, someone spiked his Valentine chocolates. I’m actually here to see if I could brew him an antidote."

Slughorn grinned, obviously relieved to find that I wasn’t messing around. "Of course, my dear! Of course! Pull up a cauldron and get started."

And so I did. I left James at his desk, now snoring lightly. It vaguely crossed my mind to simply levitate him back to Gryffindor and dump him on the common room couch, but there was still one more chocolate that had to work its way out of his system, and for some reason I now felt responsible for protecting him from its effect—him and whatever poor girl Sirius had charmed for the sixth pick.

I'd never tried it before, but the antidote came together easily enough. I’m fairly good in Potions class. Only Severus could do better. We used to have such fun in Potions together, but our friendly competition was now more of a bitter rivalry after our falling out the previous year. He was completely absorbed with his Slytherin gang now, which was disappointing because I didn’t believe he was really like that.

I shook my head to clear it of old memories and pushed back the hair that was curling around my face from the heat of the cauldron. At some point Slughorn finished his cleaning and came by to check my progress. He pronounced the antidote well on its way and congratulated me once again on my keen potions skills. He whispered that a boy like James Potter was very lucky to have me as a prefect to look after him, and gave ten points to Gryffindor for both the potion and the compassionate concern I showed for my fellow house members.

As if ten points made up for the miserable night Sirius Black had stuck me with.

Slughorn soon left, hoping to catch the end of the Valentine’s feast. He trusted me to clean up my cauldron and close the classroom when we were finished. As the potion brewed, I gazed at James, muttering in his sleep, and smiled ruefully to myself. Once again I felt the smallest bit of sympathy for him. Sirius had really messed him up. Sticking me with Potter duty had just been the icing on the cake for this prank. What a night.

I must have dozed off over my cauldron, because the next thing I knew, I felt someone’s hands massaging my shoulders. It was hot, it was steamy, and I must have forgotten where I was and who I was with, because I smiled and murmured something encouraging. The massage became a soft nuzzle at the nape of my neck, and that’s when I realized what was going on.

My eyes flew open and I whirled around with a shriek. James Potter was standing there, all cow-eyed again. He flashed a suggestive smile at me, and I held back a curse as I backed into the table behind me. He took a step closer and clasped my hand to his chest. Apparently I was the sixth subject of Sirius’s combined love potion and charm: I don’t know how he managed to make me the last one, but I was clearly a double victim of his complicated prank.

"Lily," James whispered as I wriggled out of his grasp and hurried around the table. He followed me; it was like we were in some bad Muggle television show my parents used to watch. "Lily, your eyes are so green, so keen, like a queen."

Merlin, he was rhyming. No wonder Penny Pinkerton had slapped him. I wanted to laugh, cry, and curse him all at the same time.

"Your hair shines like light, so bright in the night."

"Potter!" I shouted, pulling out my wand to hold him back. "You’ve been charmed. Do you understand? You aren’t yourself, you’re under a spell."

"The spell of your love," he murmured dreamily. I groaned. Even for him, this was bad. Glancing at the cauldron, I was relieved to see it bubbling. However, the steam was still blue, and it needed to boil until the steam was clear. I figured it would only be a few more minutes, but how was I going to fend him off for that long? It might as well be an eternity.

I cast a simple Trip Jinx at him as we began to circle each other around the classroom. There was a reason he was top of the class in Defense Against the Dark Arts, though: he whipped out his wand and easily deflected it, completely unperturbed that I was attacking him. In fact, he grinned like a lovesick mooncalf again.

"I love it when you fight back," he cried. He cast a jinx of his own, and I threw up a Shield Charm. "You're such a tiger!"

Burdock’s hairy back, he was comparing me to jungle animals. I was really, really going to nail Black for this one. I was distracted by thoughts of revenge and missed the next spell James threw at me. He disarmed me, and my wand went flying over the cauldron. The steam was clear now; I had to get him to drink the antidote, but how?

I closed my eyes and sucked in a deep breath. It was the only way. I had to do it to get him to play along. I smoothed my hair, straightened my robes, and gave him my most dazzling smile as I sauntered over to him. I also gave him a little tiger growl, and his eyes went wide with shock.

"You win, Potter," I whispered seductively, almost choking on the words. "How about a toast to celebrate?"

He was not so far gone that his suspicions didn’t kick in. He frowned, glancing over at the cauldron. "What is it?" he asked, sniffing at the air.

I thought about making something up, but decided to go with the closest version of the truth he could handle. He was a master storyteller, after all, and could probably spot a lie a mile away.

"It’s an antidote," I told him. "Sirius gave you a potion, and I’m just trying to set you right."

I’m sure James Potter in any other state would have refused a hundred times over; after all, we had a history that didn’t make the statement "I’m trying to set you right" sound all that genuine. But James Potter, desperately in love with me at that moment, was apparently ready to believe anything I said. His face melted into a sappy, sentimental smile as he closed the distance between us and threw his arms around me.

"I knew it," he whispered, beginning to nuzzle my neck again. I was alarmed when it sent a little shiver down my spine this time. "You do love me!"

"Er, sure," I gasped, pushing him away even though my neck was straining for another nuzzle. Damn my body for betraying me! "So let’s drink to it," I repeated.

I scurried over to the cauldron, grabbing my wand along the way. I conjured two goblets and filled them with the antidote. Well, I silently filled my own goblet with water; James was too thrilled at my sudden turn of character to even notice.

We raised our glasses. "Wait!" he cried. "A kiss, to us!" And he grabbed me around the waist with one arm and kissed me hard. I was too shocked to resist. I was too tired of resisting to stop. Once again my body betrayed me and kissed him back. He was an excellent kisser, though I told myself it was probably the love potion lending him prowess. He was tender yet forceful, eager yet shy—I had never given second thought to the idea of snogging James Potter, yet it was everything I might have hoped for.

"Wow," I managed when we pulled apart. I was breathless and dizzy and actually wanted another go at it. James, however, tipped his head and downed his goblet, and my own temporary insanity evaporated as the antidote immediately began to work.

I watched as a parade of emotions marched across his face: surprise, confusion, embarrassment, anger. I hoped the last wasn’t directed at me, for some reason.

He ran his hands through his messy hair, but this time I didn’t want to twist them off. I could see he was clearly rattled and felt bad for what his friends had done to him. He very deliberately placed his goblet down on the table and stepped back, his eyes flashing. "Sirius?" he asked simply.

I nodded.

"Shit," he said, backing away even more. "Evans, I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it—I mean, I meant some of it but I didn’t mean—"

"It’s okay," I replied, setting down my goblet and busying myself with cleaning. To my surprise, James began to help me collect ingredients. We worked silently for a moment, until I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer. "Do you remember what happened?" I asked.

"All of it." The look on his face told me he not only remembered it, but he was angry and embarrassed and already thinking of ways to get back at his friends. "Although I don’t understand how you got involved."

"Ah," I said, rolling my eyes for the thousandth time that night. "Well, Remus let slip Sirius was going to give you a love potion to fall in love with me. Apparently I was supposed to hurry off and stop it, which is exactly what I did, at which point they all disappeared and stuck me with you."

He studied me silently for so long I almost started to squirm. "What?" I demanded.

"You kept me from really making a fool out of myself," he said softly. "You didn’t have to do that."

I shrugged, my cheeks flaming. "Sure I did. I’m your prefect." He was silent. The lack of a snarky comeback alarmed me, although it was nice to see him at a loss for words. "And I wanted to protect those girls more than anything. Plus it was sort of fun watching you make an arse of yourself in front of everyone."

He shook his head ruefully. "I certainly did, didn’t I? Well, thanks for minimizing the damages, anyway."

"You’re welcome," I replied, surprised at his honest gratitude. We finished cleaning up, an unusual awkwardness hanging in the air between us. It bothered me: I didn’t want to go through all that only to end up walking on eggshells every time I ran into him.

"Lily—" he started as I opened my mouth to speak at the same time. We grinned ruefully at each other.

"Never mind," he murmured. I gave him a questioning look. "I don’t want to get slapped again," he explained.

I had no idea what he meant, so I used my wand to wash off the table while James took the cauldron back to the storage cupboard. As we made our way toward the door, I turned down the lights, leaving only a sliver of moonshine lighting the way. When we got to the door, James took my hand and stopped us from leaving.

I looked down at our hands, but for some reason I didn’t rip them apart. I raised my eyebrows again, and he smiled…only it was different. It was not the cocky smile he flashed around school, or the mischievous smile he wore when pulling a prank. No, it was if he was smiling just for me, and I hate to admit it, but my heart did a little flip as our eyes met. We gazed at each other for what seemed hours, neither of us moving, barely breathing as something—I don’t know what—moved between us.

And then he leaned closer, closing his eyes—he was going to kiss me. I gasped and licked my lips, and, Circe’s crown, I let him. It had been such a nice kiss the first time, I wanted to see if it was a fluke, or if he could pull it off again.

It wasn’t, and he did.

A part of me thought I should probably take out my wand and jinx him, but I couldn’t force myself to step away. It was just that good. How long we stood there, our lips eagerly engaged, I couldn’t say. He finally pulled back, tucking a flyaway hair behind my ear and sending a shiver down to my toes.

"Huh," he said softly, looking as surprised as I felt.

I’m sure my response was completely unintelligible.

"Happy Valentine’s Day, Evans," he finished. "Thanks again." And he turned and left me standing there, stunned speechless. Just before he got to the end of the corridor, he flashed me that damn smile again—but winked. It was as if the spell were broken: my wand was suddenly in my hand and I sent a Jelly-Legs jinx down the corridor just to let him know I wasn’t completely bowled over by his sloppy kiss.

Except I was, and we both knew it. I blew out my breath, feeling stupider than dirt, and cursed Sirius Black for the twentieth time that night. He had probably hoped that James would kiss me, that I would curse him, and that fireworks would ring out through the castle as another Potter-Evans match went down for the books.

He was wrong. Something told me things were going to be different now. You don’t swap spit with someone without something changing. Whether we could look each other in the eye the next day, yet alone hurl a good insult across class, only time would tell. The only thing I knew for certain was that Sirius Black would be experiencing the consequences of his little Valentine joke very soon.

* * *

Things didn’t turn out quite like I expected after that night last year: James and I had a desperately awkward week after Valentine’s Day. We eventually settled into a slightly self-conscious but passable friendship by the end of the year, though there were still quite a few spats for everyone’s viewing pleasure. We both had our revenge on Sirius, after which McGonagall sat us all down and forced a truce.

I was appointed Head Girl over the summer and was only mildly surprised to find James had been appointed Head Boy. Not only was he one of the only decent choices, but he had changed, matured. It had started sixth year, and when he returned seventh year, it was complete. He was remarkably focused and responsible, and I have to admit I found that very attractive after our first few months of shared duty.

Nothing’s come of any of it, though, and I wonder if James still remembers what happened last year. I wonder if he realizes that I might just say yes if he asked me out one more time. I wonder if he’s even still interested.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, and it will be my last one at Hogwarts. I certainly don’t want Sirius Black to pull what he did last year, but I wouldn’t mind if James Potter grabbed my hand again for another snog in the dungeon. It had been well worth the trouble, after all.

* * *