by Padfoot
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story. They belong to the wondrous J.K. Rowling. The lyrics to "She's a Rebel" belong to Green Day. That should be enough. Enjoy!
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She's a saint.
She's the salt of the earth,
And she's dangerous.
She's a rebel.
Vigilante.
Missing link on the brink of destruction.
There she was again.
Her beautiful, long red hair flounced over her shoulders and down her back as she walked. She lifted her small, freckled nose in the air as she sauntered by with grace in her every step. Anger and disgust burned in her jade eyes, causing them to sparkle like emeralds. Her thin-boned face with its arching cheekbones became completely emotionless.
I turned, running a hand through my hair, and opened my mouth to speak. She placed her beautifully manicured hand on my chest as she passed by. My mouth snapped shut. With a graceful flick of her wrist, she pushed me over.
I fell and landed on the hard, cold flagstones with a happy grin on my face.
Lily Evans.
The girl of my dreams.
“In your dreams, Potter,” she called back over her shoulder.
“You always are!” I chirped.
I leapt to my feet and ran to her side. Her jaw muscles worked when I slowed to trot next to her. “You know you want me, Evans.”
She sped up. Her lip curled in an elegant sneer and she narrowed her eyes. “Get away from me, Potter,” she growled in a low, sultry voice.
I ignored this and slid my arm around her shoulders. She instantly tensed. Her knuckles became white as her grip tightened on her schoolbooks. Her perfect brow furrowed in disdain.
“We’re destined, you and I,” I said, waving my hand in front of our faces in a grand gesture.
She shifted her books into the crook of her other arm. I nearly brought us both to the ground when she stopped abruptly. Without turning to face me, she jammed her elbow into my stomach.
I grunted and bent over double. My eyes watered. Blinking furiously, I watched her dainty feet disappear around the corner.
I absently cursed myself. She always got away! And she had, too, for the past seven years. This was the year, though. I could feel it in my bones.
She's the one that they call old what’s-her-name.
She's a symbol of resistance,
And she's holding on my heart like a hand grenade!
“That’s a nasty bruise you’ve got there, mate,” Sirius said, matter-of-fact, as I pulled off my school clothes. He had already changed into his casual clothes. Neither of us could stand the stiff school uniforms for very long.
“It was given to me with caring and love,” I snapped back.
Sirius’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh-ho! So it was Evans. I should have guessed.”
“Yes. It was Lily.”
He shook his head sadly. “Just give up, Prongs. Your never going to get her for as long as you live.” He sighed. “She’s the only girl in the whole school that doesn’t swoon when I walk into the room. Pity, that.”
I looked down at the rising bruise on my stomach. Cautiously, I ran my finger down it. My eyebrows came together in pain.
Sirius looked over at me and snorted. “What? Did she have horseshoes in her sleeve?”
“No,” I said, lip curling. “She’s just stronger than she looks.”
“Must be, to be able to bruise macho Quidditch man like that.”
He ducked when I threw my shoe at him, a knowing grin on his face. Laughing uproariously, he darted down the stairs out of the dormitory. I followed him, waving my wand threateningly at him.
Sirius ran around the common room, flailing his arms and legs ridiculously. Remus“who sat reading on the couch“ looked up from his book, rolled his eyes, and chose to ignore us. I vaulted over the couch with the intent to collide.
Sirius yelped when I took him in the legs, so that they went out from underneath him. He fell on top of me. I took him by the shoulders and flipped him on his back, sitting on his chest and pinning his arms with my knees.
I twirled my wand through my fingers. He struggled to get out from underneath me, but to no avail. “If she manages to bruise me, imagine what she could do to you,” I said contemplatively.
“Funny,” he managed.
“You know,” Remus said, without looking up, “I can tell you now that the Head Boy is definitely not supposed to do that.”
I grinned roguishly. “Dumbledore only made me Head Boy to make me stop in my Maraudering way of life.
“I guess it didn’t work,” Remus sighed, turning the page.
“Of course not,” I replied tartly.
“This is all very fun,” Sirius gasped, “But would you mind getting off my chest? For a scrawny little Quidditch player, you sure weigh a ton.”
I smirked. “No.”
“You two act like three-year-olds,” Remus said.
“You’re not better off,” I pointed out. “You’re the one who charmed Snivellus’s hair blue this morning.”
“True,” said Remus with a grin.
“What is going on?” demanded an angelic voice from across the room.
My head snapped back. Lily stood at the portrait hole, a shocked and angry look on her face.
“You look so cute when you’re angry,” I called out to her.
Sirius bucked. I was caught off guard, too busy gawking at Lily’s beauty to notice much else, and he managed to throw me off. I landed on my back with a grunt.
“Mature,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word. She stalked past me with her adorable little nose in the air. I scrambled to my feet. Her robes snapped around the corner of the girls’ dormitory door as I stepped up on the stairs and attempted to follow her.
The stone under my foot shifted. I yelled and fell forward, landing on all fours. My fingers scrabbled for a handhold, but I found none and slid down the stone slide. I collapsed in a heap at the bottom.
“Serves you right,” Remus said, trying and failing to suppress his laughter.
“Oh, woe is me,” I intoned, clutching my chest with both hands. “She has my heart in a death grip!”
“And she has an elbow made of stone,” interjected Sirius with a cackle.
I glared at him. He caught the look in my eye and, laughing, pirouetted out of the portrait hole. “You’re dead, Sirius!” I yelled, and immediately took up the chase.
A/N: Alrighty, then! A la Verse One! Er... and Two! Verse Three is coming very soon. Stay tuned! ~*~Mischief Managed~*~