(NOTE TO THE MOD: if this is rejected please e-mail me with the reasons. Thanks!)
Tenth detention...and the evil genius blossoming within
Dear possibly non-existent reader, it has been a very long time since I could actually continue to use this parchment as the detention journal it was meant to be. McGonagall has taken to sending us up to the library this past week to do research. Normally I would not mind the research; I would actually find it a lot more enjoyable than sitting in her office and trying my utmost to ignore Potter’s non-ceasing attempts to catch my attention. But the research she has us do is very…odd.
She is having the two of us look up several books about medieval wizard wars and the various reasons for which they began and having us state our opinions about the pointlessness or necessity of the wars in question. She also had us compose a poem of all things, a poem on forgiveness. She even had us do a ridiculous essay on a Muggle saying something along the lines of, ‘Love the sinner, and hate the sin’. I really have no idea what her intentions are, she truly is a tad nonsensical.
You may ask why I have landed myself in this situation. Well, I’ll tell you. On Monday, February 23rd, in front of the Potion’s dungeon, Potter and I got into…well, a little spat, really. Truly an insignificant and trivial misunderstanding, which just so happened to involve me discovering a replica of the flower I had received on Valentine’s Day in my school bag and my Transfiguration textbook making rough contact with Potter’s head. It really was no reason to go over the moon. Injustice always prevails upon me.
Well, today is Friday the 27th of February; I am back in McGonagall’s office and will continue to tell my woeful tale. Where was I? Oh, yes, interrogating Terry…
We were sitting in the library together, pretending to be intent upon some Charms homework during the few hours before my misery would begin, on the Monday after the food-fight. I had just filled Terry in on everything. I told him about receiving a poem and flower; not knowing who it was from and about how I finally found out from Pettigrew. I left out the part about me being entranced by this poem and flower. I shouldn’t burden him with the errors of my past. He really doesn’t have to know about that.
He told me he had left the Hospital Wing and gone looking for me around the castle, with no results. So he went to the Great Hall and Potter confronted him there. He got that far before he started fidgeting and glancing around. The only other people in the library were a group of second-years bent over a bright magenta banner of some sort and a couple, presumably Albert Gibson, because of the big puff of hair, and Tonia Edwards, because of the severely lime-green boots.
“My goodness!” Terry exclaimed, feigning disbelief and interest in the recent romantic discovery. “It looks like he is trying to suck her face off, doesn’t it?”
I restrained myself from rolling my eyes at his complete lack of subtlety and snapped my fingers in front of his face, saying, “Terry! Hell-o! What was it that Potter was arguing with you about?”
He bit his lip and glanced at me quickly before looking toward the second years with the magenta banner. He seemed to gasp in surprise and admiration, “Wow, look at that! The Gobstones club really out-did themselves this year with their banner. What fantastic shading! I really am impressed-”
“Terry!” I yelled at him, losing the little patience I do possess. “If I actually cared about the Gobstones club I would have joined a long time ago. Stop stalling and tell me what it was Potter was saying to you!”
I ignored the disgruntled and indignant glances I received from the Gobstones club and continued to stare expectantly at my boyfriend. At first he was staring grumpily at the table in front of him. Then he spewed out something that made me intrigued.
“Why does he bother you so much?”
“Well,” I thought over my answer for a while before going on, “he just always has. He is so arrogant and such a bully and he thinks I’m like all the other girls that throw themselves at him with nothing but a look from him. And even after I’ve made it quite plain that I am not about to let him woo me and would much rather turn him into a shish-kabob, he still keeps it up. I hate it. I hate him! Now, tell me what he said!”
Terry looked at me this time. He didn’t say anything to me for a long time. Then he began slowly.
“Look, Lily…you understand that I don’t dislike Potter nearly as much as you - because I don’t think there really is any one in the world that does - but I certainly don’t like him. At all. He’s done enough along the past few months to try and separate us to make me…well, hate him. When I showed up in the Great Hall he started bombarding me with the usual…you know, ‘You aren’t the right guy for Lily, you should just leave her alone…’ and a ton of other rude things that I won’t even bother to repeat. Well, it made me angry, and yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have let him get to me, but he did. So…well I said some rude things right back to him. Stuff I don’t normally say at all. You understand. I called him a name or two…”
I didn’t need to hear anymore. Terry was such an honourable guy; he couldn’t bear to repeat a few indecencies in front of me. He even felt slightly ashamed of having said anything to Potter, a grace I cannot achieve. And the oaf had said he didn’t deserve me. Ha! It was me who didn’t deserve him. In all of my past experiences with boys, Potter has found a way to thwart any feelings they may have felt for me, but not Terry. He has stuck with me, and I adore him for that.
I smiled at him as he continued to look flustered. I inched my chair closer to his.
“It’s okay, I understand. You don’t have to say another word.”
He looked very surprised, as if he had expected me to chop his head off at this nefarious crime he committed. He looked even more surprised as I moved closer, so that our chairs were against each other’s. For the briefest moment I was reminded of the way Potter and I had been arguing during the battle. But I quickly pushed it out, as I smiled mischievously at my boyfriend.
“I was thinking…”
He watched my hand as it made its way up to his shoulder. A smile threatened to form on his lips, to which I gave my full and unabashed attention.
“Thinking about...?” Terry urged me on.
“About how we didn’t have a proper Valentine’s day,” I said suggestively. His smile was very naughty after that.
“Well, we’ve got to fix that, now, haven’t we?” he whispered before eliminating the remaining space between our lips.
His hands made it to my face and down my back very quickly as I placed my arms around his shoulders. I found myself being shifted onto his lap, giggling a little as he did so. He supported the back of my head with his hand and pulled me toward him for another kiss.
That bliss lasted about a full ten seconds before someone rudely interrupted our snogging session by pushing a book from the shelf behind us onto our heads.
“Sorry,” a muffled voice apologized. Then we heard the sounds of scurrying feet and Madame Pince’s sharp reprimand.
“No running in the library! No running or I’ll have Filch make you wish you'd never been born!"
I rubbed my head as Terry did the same. We glanced at each other amusedly. I noticed his lips looked a little red. That made me feel pleased. I put my arms back around him and grinned.
He kissed me again, but this time shorter.
“As much as I do enjoy this and would prefer you stick around for another hour, I know you wouldn’t be happy with me knowing I made you late for detention,” he whispered to my lips, a slight pout on his own.
The good feeling was gone.
“Yeah…I guess…” I made a face and folded my arms around my chest, becoming surly.
Terry laughed, as he said reasonably, “It can’t be that bad. And I’m available to cheer you up once you come out of there. I think I know of a certain something that would do the trick.” He stood up and took my hand, before moving forward to kiss me again.
Well, there you have it, my unknown reader. We have reached the end of the road. That is how my story goes. Adios, my possibly non-existent, dedicated reader. The end! It’s over…hey, wait a minute!
It has just occurred to me that this isn’t a very good ending. There was no ‘happily ever after’. Of course, for that to actually happen, Potter would have to move to Nebraska - or Pluto, rather, Nebraska is not far enough- but still. This can’t be the end! Injustice has prevailed, insanity still roams around, and taking in more and more victims every day and Potter still hasn’t given up on me, even after I threw pie at him. No, this story will continue, I have to make a better ending. Besides, what will I have to write about to occupy my sessions in hell?
It is truly, truly unfair that Potter manages to infuriate me to miraculous extents and all I have ever done to him was provoke an insane attraction towards myself, a situation in which I am the victim. Oh, what I would give to make him pay! Him and his whole stupid tribe of miscreants - all except Remus Lupin, of course, who was not present during the one and only Hogwarts Food-fight, and when he returned back from visiting another terminally ill relative, Tuesday to be precise, he apologized for his friend’s abominable behaviour. I would take them and I would…well, I haven’t really thought about it, but I am sure it would be gruesome, deserving, amazingly organized, mortifying, spectacularly intelligent…basically the product of sheer evil genius-ness.
And do you know what? Why shouldn’t I seek revenge? Surely anyone would consent he deserves it. And nothing would make me happier than to administrate said revenge upon the ignorant criminal. After all, he is the one to blame that I am stuck in this disgraceful situation. I know that he is also stuck here with me, but it isn’t a disgrace to him. He probably greatly enjoys it.
So that’s settled then, I will come up with a brilliant plan to bring upon Potter, Black and Pettigrew - but especially Potter - the same shame and unhappiness they have brought upon me. I’m excited now. I am literally beaming and bouncing upon my chair like a yo-yo. McGonagall and The Pest have turned to stare curiously at me…maybe I should stop.
But I am excited. I can’t wait! All I have to do now is come up with the brilliant plan. I should ask Rich for help. I know Sophie won’t help me to bring anything upon her darling Sirius, as she is sadly under his malicious spell and out of her mind - she actually thought that me and Potter fighting on top of the table was romantic! That just goes to show, doesn’t it…she’s absolutely senile. But Rich probably won’t mind. As long as my plan doesn’t involve a trip either to St. Mungo’s or Azkaban, that is. So if we steer clear of both establishments, I am pretty sure he is willing. Oh, how enthralling!
Potter is sitting there looking absolutely perplexed by my obvious and excessive excitement. I just flashed him one of his trademark mischievous grins. Now he looks to be on the border of terror. The look on his face right now is priceless. I only wish he still carried the bruise my Transfiguration textbook left on his forehead. Or the lemon-meringue pie I spread in his hair. I could just almost die happy.
Lily Evans, Beginner Evil Genius.
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So...dissapointed...satisfied...what! Tell me anything at all!
Also, to anyone who would like to, you can tell me what you think Lily should do as revenge. Who knows...and I'd give you a humongous thanks! And a humoungous thanks also to my beta, the wonderful JC_Cainstone!
I have a dark/angst fic coming up, and if any of you would like to take a break from laughing at Lily and her obsession with insanity to get a little teary...I would love you for it! To be honest, of everything I've written it is what I am most proud of. Granted, I haven't written very much but, well...
Review!!!! Please, of course.
The Epic Tale of the Hogwarts Food-fight by Gin_Drinka
Chapter Notes: So here is some more...I honestly kept thinking something was missing from this chapter, but I guess it's because it seems pretty emtpy after the last one. Well, it has it's importance. Hope you enjoy!