The Epic Tale of the Hogwarts Food-fight________
Well, I am back again, my piece of stupid parchment. Want to know something? If you don’t, that’s just too bad. This whole arrangement is a cataclysmic mistake! How on earth did the staff think that this would help me and that great ignoramus to get along? I can only assume that their tactics have become desperate with the progression of this year. Mine and Potter’s run-ins have became more frequent and he has been inflicted even more pain at my hands than ever before. But the staff will not give up the futile hope that I will someday bear to hear his name without wanting to either break, smash, tear or pulverize whatever I have in my hands. Believe me; this quill I’m writing with is in great peril.
Ten billion times more than unfortunate has been the fact Potter has also started to become desperate. All of these years he has honestly managed to hold the opinion that we are both meant to be, that I could not resist and would succumb to his charms the very next day.
Bah! I am sickened just writing that down. He has finally caught on that I will not be declaring my undying love to him in ballad as he has done for me. Do not ask me to recount that horrible song; it was a traumatic experience. He is finally beginning to consider the possibility that I just might not return his feelings in their integrity. Therefore he is desperate, I tell you, and my dear Headmaster, Dumbledore, has finally lost the few marbles he still possessed, most likely the reason for which he has tossed his Head Boy and Girl into detention every school day to the impending demise of us both at my hands. I am yet to die a tragic death at far too young an age.
McGonagall is another one whose brain must not be regulating properly. She is sitting at her desk right this moment looking back and forth between me and Potter and she’s smiling. I bet she assumes I have hidden feelings for that mop-headed oaf. I am gagging, so you know. That bun at the back of her head must be too tight, for surely it’s messing with her brain cells. And if you happen to read this, Professor…keep in mind that I am very much disturbed and that you promised me you would not be reading this yourself. And since you are aware of the reasons for which I am here, you most likely understand the reasons for my vexation. So if you do happen to read and be insulted by this, it is entirely your fault for tricking me into revealing my opinions unrestrained.
So, during my first detention I had begun the tale of why I am here, but could not finish. And it is now Wednesday, February 18th. I spent my last detention writing down every name I thought Potter deserved, and let me tell you, my supposed and unknown reader, I have an extensive vocabulary and it is surprising how many insults Potter has awarded himself. Would one believe that after all that… monster has done, he still worked up the nerve after our first detention to tell me that never will he give up on me-oh joy of joys!- and better yet, continue to insult my boyfriend? Oh, he drives me insane! At least I took some satisfaction out of cursing his sorry mouth to grow seven times as big as it normally is.
Now, I am sadly back to tell my tale…
I was sitting in the Hospital Wing, waiting for Terry to come to. By the time it was 2:00 his team-mates had already left and I was hungry. I had not had breakfast, and my system does not function correctly when in lack of food. I was grateful when Madame Pomfrey came to shoo me out, as it was time for Terry to take some potion and do some tests and I was not allowed to be around for some reason. I told myself I would be back after lunch, after I had sufficiently pleased my stomach. It was turning out to be an interesting Valentine’s Day. Most people would take this as an ill omen, but I am not in the least bit superstitious.
Sophie came up to the Gryffindor house table as Rich watched me stuff my face with everything within my reach. Sophie’s nose scrunched up as she watched me shove a sandwich in my mouth.
“How dainty,” she said.
“Very, isn’t it?” Rich agreed, nodding his head.
Once I had swallowed some of what I was eating and was able to defend my cause I stated, “Shove off. I’m hungry.”
Rich smiled blandly, saying,” I would never have guessed.”
Sophie leaned in.
“Keep in mind that your secret admirer might be watching.”
I stopped half way through taking another sandwich. My hand went instantly up to my hair. The flower was not there. I startled. Had I left it in the Hospital Wing? Had it fallen off when I was leading Terry away, on the Quidditch pitch? It was a shame; I had wanted to keep it. I reminded myself to check when I went up to see Terry again.
“Has he sent you anything else?” Sophie insisted.
Rich said, “It might be a ‘she’.”
Sophie and I both made faces. Rich shrugged.
“It’s possible.”
“Well, thanks, but I’d prefer not to think about that,” I declared, then added, “and I’m gonna go now.” I picked up another sandwich to eat on my way.
Sophie asked, “Where are you going? Isn’t Terry going to meet you here?”
“He’s in the Hospital Wing, because King of Stupid over there sent a Bludger at him. I'll tell you about that later. Right now I have to go kill him, so excuse me,” I said and I started making my way toward Potter’s gigantic head that had just sat up from lunch at the end of the table.
But before I could a pair of rough hands grabbed me from behind and dragged me out of the Hall as another hand slipped over my mouth to keep me from screaming.
“Damn, Evans. You bit me!” the voice of Sirius Black said as he released me after I did just what he said.
I crossed my arms over my chest and said, “I’ll give you exactly three seconds to tell me what you want with me, or I’ll curse you.”
“Wow, you’re in a bad mood today.”
I put up a finger.
“One…”
“I don’t think biting a fellow student goes down too well. I could turn you in for sexual harassment, you know.”
Another finger went up.
“Two…”
“So, how’s Sophie?”
That made me gape a little. I mean, Sirius Black isn’t known to care for ex-girlfriends with broken hearts. He’s known for not caring. But I only gaped for a while, mind you, Lily Evans is Queen of Cool.
“Much better without you, that’s how she’s doing,” was my snappy retort.
Did I just see him cringe? No, I must have been hallucinating; Potter must have finally succeeded in driving me mad.
“Why would you care, anyway?” I asked.
He tilted his head and said, “I notice you’ve stopped with the countdown.”
Huh! He was avoiding my question. That’s very interesting…And hypothetical reader; don’t think I’m going soft for not cursing him; I didn’t just because I’m sure Sophie still has feelings for him. But let me tell you it was very tempting.
“What do you want, Black?”
He grinned evilly and pulled something out of his pocket. It was my flower. “I think this might belong to you,” he said.
Lily Evans, Queen of Cool, had an uncharacteristic moment.
“Where did you get that?” I gasped.
He was still grinning in that unsettling way. “I found it on the pitch.”
I spluttered. “How did you…why did you…you?”
He laughed out loud (I noticed his laughing was a lot like barking. How odd) and shook his head. “No, sweets, it wasn’t me who sent you this. But I know who did,” he provoked.
“Who was it?”
Again, he shook his head then grinned like an evil maniac.
“So did you tell your wimpy boyfriend about this? Or is he still out?”
Forget Sophie. I was fuming mad. I flew at him, pounding on him as hard as I could.
“How dare you!”
He easily grabbed my arms with one hand and held me, kicking madly, away from his face.
“Be careful Evans. We don’t want to get detention now, do we?” he said and, laughing maniacally, he shoved me away and leapt onto the moving staircase, a safe distance from my enraged self. “Ta ta,” he sang and he threw the flower toward me.
I watched helplessly as he floated away from my strangling range. I picked up the lily from the ground, questions spinning through my head. How did Sirius know about my admirer? And if he knew, did that whole useless, self-idolizing herd know too? And who was it that sent me this thing of beauty? Well, there was only one way to find out: getting the answer out of the Marauders, who obviously knew so much about all this. And I knew just the one to weasel it out of.
Now I just had to find him…
It has again happened that I have run out of time. Looking at my watch, it is now 8:28, and I will spend the next two minutes watching Potter search in vain for his piece of parchment. It’s quite entertaining. You see, I happened to get a glance at what he’d written; it consisted mainly of ‘Lily Evans is beautiful’, ‘Lily Evans is magnificent’ and blah, blah, blah…Well I know the boy is obsessed with me, but this has gone too far. So, when he dropped his quill and bent down to pick it up, I, without summoning the attention of the Professor, vanished his paper with a soundless wave of my wand. That serves him right, the Brainless Duke of Prats…
Oh great! He’s turned around to stare at me. Look the other way, you great bumbling ignoramus! Sorry, piece of parchment, I’m folding you up for the two minute wait, seeing as how you might incriminate me if Potter reads you.
Lily Evans, Criminal Mastermind.
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Okay, so feel like reviewing? Go on, write anything you'd like! Make guesses! Rant! I don't mind at all...A great big thanks to my beta, JC Cainstone, the reason you're reading this.