Like a Romantic Comedy by cosmopolitan411

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 7
Published: 03/03/2009
Last Updated: 08/03/2009
Status: Completed

they say that life is like a box of chocolates. Personally, though, I don't see it, if
anything, it's more like a romantic comedy.




1. I hate the cliché
--------------------



HELLO, again!

So as I've been promising to do, for much too long now, I've rewritten this entire story
and almost have it complete (about time, I know). This is just a forewarning, though, that you may
want to reread the story as many things have changed, and some are still the same.

Thank you and, again, I apologize for this pathetically extended delay,

Cosmo xx

--

**Disclaimer:** *nope, don't own anything Harry Potter related, not even copies of the
books, and wouldn't really care to, not after that seventh book…*

**--**

**Like a Romantic Comedy**

--

**Summary:** *it's pathetic, and rather disheartening really, how even if you may hate
romantic comedies, you just can't ever escape the, because if you do despise them with a
passion of a thousand burning suns, as I do, your life will just turn into one in spite of you, as
mine has.*

--

**Challenge:** *write a story for the title “Like a Romantic Comedy”*

--

**Chapter I: I hate the cliché**

--

“Wotcher, Evans, you're looking rather fetching today,” James greeted—more like chirped—as
he took a seat by my side.

“Mph,” I grunted morosely as I threw my head into my arms, banging it into them repeatedly—as,
really, it's just stupid to bang your head into a table given the sheer amount of brain cells
you lose with that method. This one's far better, much safer and even has the same calming
effect..

I could practically feel the amused smirk he sent my way, regardless of how irrational that may
have been. “What, no inspirational quote of the day?” he asked, a slight undertone of befuddlement
to his words even as he chuckled at my actions.

*Prat.*

*No, change that to mega prat. In fact, he's just so…* pratty *that I'll slap him
if he doesn't shut up soon.*

*God, I hate that bastard.*

“Adversity is the diamond dust with which heaven polishes its jewels, Thomas Carlyle, how's
that?” I asked as I raised my head to look at him, unable to help retain the slight growl at the
sight of him watching me with those, bloody, amused eyes of his.

*Bastard*.

“Rather depressing actually,” he admitted with a frown.

*Even bigger bastard.*

“Tough,” I grunted.

“You know at the rate you're going I may start to think you don't want me here.”

I rolled my eyes at his dramatics; damn conceited blokes like him was the last thing I needed
then. I was in wallowing mode, why couldn't he just be a good little boy and just get me some
damn ice cream?

“Go to hell.”

At those words I heard a deep chuckle, one that was just a tad bit too deep to be the
arse's, and turned around to see who it was that seemed to be so fascinated by the show James
and I were putting on.

Upon seeing him, however, the only thought that ran through my mind was a rather disappointed
`*figures*.'

“Why are you all everywhere? Can't I ever just get some peace and quiet, is that
*really* too much to ask for?” I asked with a groan before returning to banging my head into
my arms—only my arms started to hurt then, and I had found myself in a bit of an impasse.

*Damn*.

“Come on, Lils, what's got you acting so pissy this fine morning?” Remus jovially asked me
as he took a seat by my side.

*Great, now I'm surrounded by them. Good God, this is just turning out to be one hell of a
morning. Extra emphasis on the “hel”l, at that.*

“I hate you, both of you—you and your morning person…*ness* and—and him and his… well just
all of it in general as far as he's concerned.”

James actually had the nerve to “tut” me upon hearing that. “Now, Lily, where are your
manners?”

“Oh go and find your slag and have some morning fun if you're all jolly, just leave me
alone!” I snapped at him in annoyance, and I immediately regretted the crude remark, but at that
moment I really couldn't bring myself to apologize despite the fact that id desperately wanted
to.

And I think, ultimately, that's what did me in with him. For the first time in… well,
*ever* he was actually offended by something I said, and so with a huff and a puff he was off…
to see his slag no less. I don't think he realized that if he was going to follow with the
movements then the fable specifically required that he actually blow my house down.

But, then again, he always was a tad bit slow…

“Seriously, what's got your knickers in a twist?” Remus finally asked in as low drawl,
effectively drawing me out of my reverie; which, admittedly, probably was for my own good seeing as
strange and scary things seem to go on in my head…

“Well it'd be quite hard for them to be seeing as I'm not wearing any.”

He grinned widely, his eyes flashing with clear amusement. “Duly noted, but unless you'd
care to show me that nice little sight I recommend you get on with the story before I sic Padfoot
on you.”

“That'd just be mean.”

He shrugged, smirk plastered onto his face. “That's life—and those are your words too, not
mine.”

I sighed, grunting again. “You're a bastard, you know that?”

“And you're a right *bitch* this morning, what a great pair we make,” he retorted with
a sarcastic undercurrent to his words that I couldn't help, but scoff at.

*Cor, I hate how quick witted he is.*

“Just say it, Lils, I hate having to put up with you when you get lost in that little world of
yours. God knows what's up there—in fact, I think he'd be a bit too scared to even want to
try to find out.”

“Thanks,” I monotonously responded.

*Look at him acting as if he's some vicar, as if he knows anything about anything, damn
smug bloke.* Merlin*, I hate men*.

“Oh cheer up and tell uncle Remus what's wrong,” he chortled, flicking my chin lightly to
force me to raise my head.

*Abusive*, another thing to add to the long list of reasons I want to kill Remus “Moony”
Lupin.

“Come on, Lils, you know you want to,” he continued to goad me with a slight wink—one that,
despite how attractive he may be, he had never been able to fully pull off properly. There was
always just something about it that made it look like he was having a spasm of.

I never did have the heart to tell him that little truth of life.

Plus, it's a damn hilarious sight.

“Fine,” I stopped him, quickly growing tired of his prying—so much so that I didn't even
realize what I had just agreed to. So, with a clench of my jaw a very irritated glare sent his way,
after all, he had just conned me into doing as he had asked, I finally told him.

I finally told *someone*.

“I'm in love with James.”

His eyes widened, his cheeks slightly reddened, and his jaw went slack. He really did look a tad
bit *fishy* with that look plastered upon his face. Hilarious sight, that was.

“Oh,” he finally managed to spit out, a pathetic one syllable not-even-really-a-word-word that
he had been working so hard on uttering, after a good five or so minutes of staring at me in shock.
*Pathetic*.

“Yeah,” I muttered morosely.

“*Oh*,” he repeated with a little splash of extra emphasis that time.

“Yep,” I nodded, taking a sip of my coffee as I tried to hold back the compulsion to just slap
him upside the head for acting like such a monosyllabic idiot.

“*OH*?!”

“Because I didn't hear you the first time,” I sarcastically quipped, not even bothering to
hide my annoyance that time as I freely rolled my eyes before glaring at him.

*Felt nice, really—being in tune with your emotions like that, anger is such a nice little
thing to divulge in—especially when dealing with dense pricks like him. Men suck… they suck serious
cock.*

Just thinking that had been oddly relieving, stress wise. There was something about vindictive
and bitchy thoughts that was very helpful in periods such as these, wherein aunt flow drops by for
an early visit and your love doesn't *really* realize your existence…

“But… but… *fuck*!” he sputtered.

I couldn't help, but growl slightly as he returned to that state again. It does get a little
boring hearing the same thought repeated over and over again. Change the words or not, it's
still the same sentiment, when will he learn?

“*Yep*.”

He gaped at me, a slight fear making itself present through the tremor of his chin. It was
almost sweet how much he cared for me. “You—you do realize that—that-”

“He has a new—for the first time official, at that—girlfriend? Yes, yes I do. In fact, in case
you haven't already realized, it's why I'm acting as particularly bitchy today you
stupid, stupid, *idiot*.”

After all, while he may be sweet that doesn't mean I can deny the truth—such as, say, the
sheer extent of his stupidity. You have to be realistic about things like that; after all, it's
simply idiotic to allow oneself to be deluded in such matters. *No*, that's really not
safe at all.

He cocked an eyebrow, sending me a quizzical look. “Why are you shaking your head?”

“Nothing?” I squeaked, trying to maintain my blush, all the while cursing my genes and how
easily it came as I felt my face slowly heating up.

“*Right*…”

I simply shrugged.

“*So*…”

“You're really annoying then you're like that,” I blurted pout, unable to contain
myself.

*Bloody hell, can't he just get to the point? I mean, really, how hard is it to just ask a
simple question—we both knew what he wants to say anyway. Hell, I even opened the doors for him,
made it easy by doing the hard part… you know, by* admitting *my rather embarrassing feelings,
self-centered prat.*

*Besides, all he really has to do is just open that damn mouth and let the syllables flow out
in a verbal diarrhea that's sure to take place.*

“*So*…”

*But, apparently, he's above diarrhea.*

“Ugh, you're not really going to go with the tentative, maybe-maybe-not route, are you?
That's a bit too pathetic, even for you, Remus,” I groaned, my face contorting with disgust
upon hearing that word.

He chuckled. “Fine then, tell me, how'd it happen?”

“Are you stupid? Who the hell really knows how the fuck they ended up so unlucky as to fall for
their best mate? For fuck's sake, do you think I want to be some walking, talking cliché while
the supposed `love of my life' is off prancing with some *slag*?!”

“Manners, Lily, manners.”

I glared at him. He deserved it, really, who chastises a girl when she's dealing with a
broken heart and is hormonal? Any dolt who's stupid enough to do that really deserves whatever
repercussions come his way.

“Do you really want to go there, Lupin, because you're already treading on rather thin ice?
It's pretty much down to an ice cube at the moment, actually.”

“*Right*, so no laughing at you or correcting you, got it,” he noted, a slight quiver to
his voice. Had I been in a normal state of mind I'd probably be a little disheartened by my
actions and how rude I was being, but given the moment and the less than favorable circumstances I
had to admit to myself that, being the horrible person that I am, I was actually reveling in
it.

Power truly is a scary thing… only thing is that I doubt the whole maniacal bitch thing suits me
very well. Maybe fun to portray, but I doubt it's very sexy for the boys. Ah, what a stalemate
I've found myself in.

“Care to share whatever it is that you *do* know then?”

“I hate that slag,” was my immediate, and rather blunt, retort as I pointed to the damn bint who
was currently throwing a leg over James's lap as she straddled him in the middle of the great
hall.

Really, all she is legs and boobs.

Okay… *maybe* I can understand why he's interested then.

“Men are randy and perverted little fuckers, you know that?”

“Why thank you,” he dryly said.

“Oh you're not included in that,” I waved him off. “You're so angsty and practically
celibate as it is that I've written you off in the `it' category *ages* ago, so
don't worry, you don't apply,” I told him, smiling widely after having basically not only
put his masculinity in question but then made it seem as if it was preposterous that he even have
any.

*I swear, though, at the time I really didn't realize what I had just said and how
offensive it might be, I actually thought I was making him feel better.*

He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at me blankly. “Was that actually supposed to make me feel
any better?”

“I guess it's just a matter of perspective then…” I shrugged.

“So are you ever just going to answer my question?”

“What… tell you how my heart burns for him?—How I want to spend all night making sweet,
*raunchy* love to him and make him my personal boy toy?—Or would you rather hear the part
about how he gives my heart palpitations?” I muttered, grabbing a piece of pie from the table and
finally finding good use for the blasted thing by stabbing it repeatedly.

*They really are very absorbent, take in the knife rather well, allots you more opportunities
to pierce them without having to waste food by getting a new one to mutilate.*

*Plus*, I had always held this secret aversion to pie that made make want to erase them
from the face of the earth

Irrational? *Yes*.

Did I hold a deep-rooted fear for them that made it reasonable in my mind? *Yes to that one as
well.*

He rolled his eyes before pulling the plate away form me. “Talk.”

“Bossy today, aren't you, Remmy-Poo?” I jibed, well aware of how much he hates that
nickname.

He rolled his eyes again at that one, and I could practically see the steam coming out of his
ears. “Yes, I get it, you're great at playing the role of the jilted best mate, and you're
amazing at being a bitch. Can we move on no?”

*It's times like those that I adore Remus, he just understands me so well. He knows just
the right of moping, wallowing, and botching to allot me before stopping me so I don't turn
into a—well, at least, not a* total *crazed, hormonal, psycho bitch.*

“I don't know, and I think that that's what kills me, okay? I don't know, ergo I
don't know what steps I can retrace to erase this whole mess,” I admitted.

“What? Like force yourself to fall out of love with him?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, unsure as to why he seemed to find the idea so preposterous.

“You're an idiot.”

“Or just so brilliant that you can't even keep up with such logic,” I smirk.

He shook his head slowly. “Oh no, trust me, it's the former.”

I shrugged as I returned my gaze towards the happy couple. “I hate them.”

“Them, as in both *individuals*, or *them* as a couple?”

“The couple—or… well, maybe both, I—I don't know anymore. I just—I hate the fact that he can
make me feel this way about him; it's just not right, not normal.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me upon hearing that small, paradoxical rant. “Well I'm not so sure
about that one, Lils, after all, people *do* fall in love every everyday,” he quipped like the
arse that he is.

“They're idiots,” I grumbled.

“And yet a group of idiots that you're a part of.”

“Ugh,” I groaned with a sneer, a rather unattractive pose to take really. “Fine then, I
don't hate him, I just really hate that slag.”

“And I understand that, but you know—” he paused, letting out a deep breath, surely trying to
find a good way to word whatever it was that he had to say, given the state of my temper at the
moment. “Given that, as of last night, she's officially James's girlfriend I don't
think you're quite allowed to refer to her as a slag—at least not when other people can hear
you and it can get back to her.”

I glared at him, forcing a wide smile unto my face, but the intent was more than clear
nonetheless as I muttered, through gritted teeth, “why the hell do you think I'm so moody this
morning anyway?”

“Well-”

I rolled my eyes. “It was a rhetorical question you jerk.”

“Oh… *right*.”

“So, anyway, onto the reason I told you this-”

“*Naturally*, because it can't just be for the sake of getting off your chest.”

“*Naturally*,” I smiled. “Something so preposterous could only be called blasphemous.”

He let out a large bark of laughter. “Your logic is infallible, Evans.”

“Why thank you, now onto how you're going to help me,” I changed the subject, very fluidly
if I may so myself, as I sent him a bright smile.

“Okay, get on with it; I'd rather not prolong this whole thing too much longer.”

“Help me end it.”

He didn't even blink upon hearing those words, and I know I shouldn't have been so
surprised, but seeing that he knew what I was going to ask before I even did it made me feel far
too predictable.

His response, however, was the total opposite.

“No.”

I stared at him incredulously; left utterly speechless by his… well sacrilegious, really, reply.
“What—what the *fuck* do you mean `no?' I mean… wh—where the hell do you get off saying
that to your best mate, of all people, you bloody bastard?!” I screeched like a banshee. “What kind
of a mate does that—you know what, a backstabber that's who!” I continued, albeit a bit
irrationally… but, really, I *was* in a right state.

*It was official, the day suck! I mean, first I found out that James, that, being the randy
little prick had to find a place to put his “horn” to cure his perpetual horniness, got himself a
damn girlfriend; ergo, in turn, placing me in a perpetual state of jealousy. It's perpetual all
around, not fun at all no matter how amusing it may sound.*

*Therefore, I reserve the right to waving my arms around like a crazed maniac—maybe if I do it
enough I'll gain the power of telekinesis like Carrie… after all, she did have that whole stint
in the girls' washroom at the beginning of the film…*

“Stop it, Lily, whatever plans you're drawing up in your head won't work,” he said in an
annoyingly clipped voice as he pulled me out of my reverie.

*Seriously, I hate him for making me feel as if I'm so predictable.*

“But… how—how-”

“You'll regret it,” he informed me in a sing-song voice—one that compelled you to question
his sexual orientation. He didn't even bother to let me finish my thought… which, admittedly,
probably would have just been a ton of senseless words strewn about, but it's the principal of
the matter. After all, it *is* terribly rude to interrupt someone like that.

“I totally wouldn't… at least not if it worked!”

He sighed, raising his hands to rub his temple. “Come on, Lils,” he bartered, his head still
downcast as he tried to cure himself of what was surely a rapidly growing headache.

*He seems to get a lot of those when with me.*

*I guess some would even go so far as to call it annoying…I, however, call it talent.*

“`Come on' what, Remus? How can you just stab me in the back like that?” I, albeit
irrationally, cried out.

He raised his head, cocking an eyebrow at me in a rather condescending manner that I really
didn't care much for. “Don't be so over dramatic.”

I gasped. “I am not!”

“Oh come on, Lils, this whole bit is not you. You may be irrational at times, but you're not
a bitch. You're just sad that you didn't tell him sooner—that he can't sit by like a
backup choice for you for whenever you finally get up the guts to tell him. Don't be so
annoying and petulant; it's *really* not a color that suits you well anyway,” he snapped
at me, much to my displeasure… mainly because it's true.

I sighed. I hate it when he's right, *not fair*. “It would make things easier though,
you know?”

He shrugged. “Probably would… but, then again, so would have telling him sooner.”

I shrugged back. “I don't like feelings; you know that I find them too messy. Wasn't too
fond of the fact that I might be growing them for him—scared me shitless, honestly.”

“I know,” he told me, exuding empathy as he placed a hand over mine, rubbing soft circles into
it.

*Merlin, I love him.*

“But it's still my fault, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“I hate morals,” I scowled.

“I know, but, them again, you hate many things anyway,” he reasoned, and justly, too—I can admit
that much at least.

“Yeah, but that one's quickly topping the list.”

He sighed, again. “You *could* always tell him.”

“How about a `hell no' to that one?” I smiled, trying to portray the sarcasm through my
facial expression.

I think he got the point, seeing as he let out a bark of laughter upon seeing, and hearing,
that.

“*Ugh*, but what do I do, Remus?”

He let out a deep, desperate, breath. “I don't know.”

“You're useless, you know that?” I asked him with a pout.

“Eh, never claimed to be worth much anyway,” he said, a crooked smile making its way onto his
face.

“I bet Sirius would be able to help me.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, agitatedly blowing at the wisp of hair that had made its way onto my face,
only adding to my annoyance. “I just really don't want to be *that* girl!”

He sent me a puzzled look, and I think that that was the first time in ages that I ever really
surprised him. Felt nice actually, maybe I was capable of going against the grain after all. “What
do you mean?”

“You know, *that* girl. The cliché shite you always see in the films—the girl that's in
love with her best mate while he's off doing the dirty with some other wench. I hate the fact
that I'm part of that whole truism, but at the same time I just… I can't help, but feel
something for him.”

“I'd imagine that that *would* be rather annoying,” he admitted with a nod.

“*See*!” I exclaimed. “God, I just—I don't want to be another chick flick, I want to
feel like I have *some* control over my fate!”

“So what are you going to do then?” he asked me quietly, almost hesitantly.

“I don't know,” I desperately admitted. “I know that I want to break them up. Then again,
though, I also know that I could never live with myself—the guilt of it if I did. I know I want to
admit to him how I feel, but I also know that I just don't have the guts to do it. It's all
so twisted and paradoxical, Remus, so… so discombobulated and I have no clue what to make of it
anymore. I *just* want out.”

“You do realize that there's no out, don't you?”

I couldn't help but wince; it was so much harder hearing that from someone else—having it
affirmed like that made it impossible to ignore it.

“What if there is?”

The look he sent me upon hearing that unreservedly desperate question was just so degrading and
pitiful that I actually had the compulsion to just curl up in a corner and cry my eyes out, and out
of pity for myself no less. *Pathetic*.

“Come on, Lils, you know I can't lie to you—go to Sirius for that one, he's always been
a bit more morally flexible than me.”

“Well I wouldn't really call that as bad of a thing as your tone may suggest,” a deep voice
interrupted Remus with a quip. As Sirius took a seat by me he swung his arm around my shoulders. He
turned my head with his other hand so that I was facing him, cocking an eyebrow as he scrutinized
me—a rather unnerving habit of his. “Why so pissy today, love? You'll get frown lines and,
really, your face is far too pretty to be ruined by such avoidable things,” he told me with a saucy
wink that only he could ever pull off.

“Apparently she's in love with James,” Remus informed him without any hesitation.

“Remus!” I shrieked when he so bluntly and impassively told Sirius that. *Damn thoughtless
bastard.*

“What?i—It's not like you weren't going to tell him anyway.”

“I wasn't!”

“Oi, why the bloody hell not?!” Sirius interrupted, clearly offended by the idea of me keeping
something of that caliber from him. Or anything, actually.

“Because you'll surely mock me for it incessantly.”

“Oh…” Remus blushed a bit. “I forgot about that…”

“Yeah, you think?” I snorted.

Sirius scoffed. “Now you're making me out to be some heartless prat.”

I couldn't help but shift in discomfort upon hearing that. “*Well*…”

“What?!”

“You do tend to mock people when their down, mate,” Remus sympathetically broke it to him. I
don't understand how he could be so nice to Sirius about it, but he couldn't even spare me
the slightest bit of empathy.

“I do not,” he adamantly defended himself. “I haven't said anything to Lily.”

I snorted at the example. “You haven't exactly had time to either, but I can just imagine
what your initial thoughts were.”

He, at least, had the courtesy to blush as far as that one was concerned.

“This is all just *so* screwed up,” I groaned, cocking my head to the side as I tried to
relieve myself of a crick in my neck while considering just how everything had gone to hell. “I
should really just get some girl friends, they'd be able to help me… *hell*, they probably
would have prevented all this from happening, unlike the useless lot that I befriended.”

“Oi,” Sirius exclaimed, “we're right here you know.”

“I'm afraid she does know, mate,” Remus informed him with a sympathetic look before turning
to me. “Besides, you never could, nor will be able to befriend girls. You're very anti-social
and can't handle all the bints, you and I both know that very well.”

“Well maybe I just haven't had a chance to exercise my hand in the blissful world of female
bonds because of you prats.”

Sirius snorted. “Love, you're very hostile—borderline abusive, really, I'm afraid to say
that just like you can't handle them they can't handle you either. Now how about you tell
uncle Sirius about what's ailing you and we'll make ourselves a great, fool proof
plan.”

“And he's a fool, so all you have to do is discount anything he says and you're sure to
find yourself with one amazing M.O.” Remus smirked.

-->



2. I hate that I’m scared
-------------------------



**Chapter II: I hate that I'm scared**

--

“I'm sorry,” I muttered as I took a seat by James in potions, trying to say it as quietly as
possible so I could ignore the fact that I was apologizing—a pastime that I had never held a
particular affinity for.

He turned to me, smiling widely. “It's okay, I've kind of long ago accepted that that
comes with the territory of being mates with a girl—hormones are just part of the equation, besides
you've put up with listening to us constantly talking about birds, I think we can break even
here,” he told me with a small wink, nudging my shoulder playfully.

I laughed. *Damn him for being so disarmingly charming*. “Thanks.”

“So, seriously, what was going on with you this morning, you're never quite so openly
hostile towards me, it's usually Sirius's head that you try to bite off when you're
going through your…” James's voice wavered slightly as he approached the word. “*Period*”:
that one thing that every bloke is afraid of and every girl uses as her excuse for everything.

“Your womanly thing,” he finally said with a cough.

Typical*, though, that he'd blame it on my period even though I didn't even say a word
to confirm something like that, blokes are just far too quick to blame it on “Aunt Flow.”*

Still, I couldn't help but smirk slightly, cocking my head to the side as I watched a slow
blush spread throughout his face. There were only two things that ever could make James blush:
periods and finding me reading *Kama Sutra*—but, really, it's not as if it's a sex
manual, it was intended to be a sacred text on the enjoyment of senses. Bastard still thinks
I'm some pervy little sex obsessed fiend, won't even listen to me when I go off on the
common misconceptions about the text. *Arse*… seriously, though, you'd think a bloke would
appreciate it if a girl read something like that, sex obsessed or not…

“You know, you can say it; if it make it easier for you just think about it as a part of a
sentence when you say it, ignore the fact that you're referring to that bloody womanly cycle
thing,” I said, my smirk growing even wider, if that was even humanly possible, as I watched his
blush deepen.

“You're a bitch,” he coughed, clearly tongue tied after I backed him into a corner like
that.

“Now don't be so hostile, James,” I tutted, a bit patronizingly. “It's for your own
good, broadens your horizons and all that shite.”

He laughed. “That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”

I shrugged. “Wanted an excuse for embarrassing you, figured that's about as good of a light
as I can be put in after putting you through that,” I admitted with a small, shy smile.

*It was moments like those that made me fall for him, the ease of the banter… I felt
comfortable being myself with him, as if I didn't have to be apologetic for being a crazy
psycho bitch. I felt oddly accepted and it was the most comforting feeling in the world, and I
loved him for it.*

He pulled me out of my reverie, though, by chuckling lightly and throwing an arm around the back
of my chair while Slughorne went to the front of the class, beginning his presentation on the
potion we'd be preparing the following day.

I, however, was lost in the sensation of being so close to him—being so close to what I wanted…
to what I was too scared to go after for so long.

*Life's a bitch like that.* It's this whole twisted romantic comedy that makes you
fall for your best mate while he's with someone else. People think that it's a great thing
when they watch the films, think it's terribly romantic and all that, but those stories… those
stories were written, carefully planned out so the good little girl would end up getting the boy.
Well I'm *not* the good little girl; I'm *not* the picture of perfection. Hell,
I'm not even slightly sane, so where does that leave me? What happens to the girls like me when
they find themselves in situations as cliché as this?

--

“I really hate the slag, you know? Coming in and taking something that is so clearly not hers,
completely underhanded and sneaky!” I ranted nonsensically, clearly irrational, as far as my
thought process was concerned. Still, though, I liked it that way—I enjoyed having someone to blame
for my not having him rather finally facing the fact that I should have told him earlier. It was
safe, it was therapeutic, and it made me innocent—all options which I was exceedingly fond of.

*After all, as Oscar Wilde once said: “There is luxury in self reproach. When we blame
ourselves, we feel no one else has a right to blame us.”*

“You do realize that she has a name… it's Adele,” Remus informed me as I sat at the far
corner of the library, watching James pull the slag towards the stacks.

“And what a whorish name that is… besides it's so much easier to just call her by what she
really is, take out all the messy details, like names,” I bitterly spat out, albeit more than a bit
spitefully.

Remus let out a deep and clearly irritated sigh, as he ran a hand through his hair—a clear sign
that he was trying to hold back his pent up aggravation. “You have to get over this, Lily—you
can't just sit around moping like this, it's pathetic.”

“I know,” I sighed, pouting slightly. “But it's just been a day and I *like* being the
jealous bitch—it's a very suiting role for me, to tell you the truth. Plus, it's just so
much fun to play, I'm fantastic at being spiteful… *fantastic*, Remus,” I repeated so
he'd understand the extent of my fantastic-ness at being spiteful.

“Well congratulations,” he dryly quipped. “But that still doesn't change anything, either
you're going to do something about it or stop annoying me about it.”

“Hmm…” I mumbled, admittedly only half listening to what he was saying as, *really*,
sometimes he does have this horrible tendency to go endlessly just berating me for doing something
a *tad* bit irrational… like that time that I hexed little James, and made him peanut little,
for two weeks no less, after James went through my underwear drawer.

“You're not listening, are you?”

*He never was stupid, figures he'd realize.*

“No,” I answered honestly, I never was one for lying anyway.

“Good God, sometimes I hate being mates with you.”

“Don't lie, Remus, without me you'd still be that lost and hopeless little boy that
couldn't figure out that wearing a tie all the time didn't necessarily make you the
debonair Casanova type.”

I couldn't hold back the smirk as I watched him wince at that memory; he truly was pathetic
before me. “Still, the point is you saved me from a horrible fate of perpetual loneliness so I may
as well return the favor by helping you out.”

“And how do you propose to do that?” I asked; my interest most definitely piqued.

“Well,” he said, clearly proud of the fact that he had gained my attention as he brightly smiled
at me—he, clearly, was rather unaccustomed to the idea of having my full, undivided attention
without me interrupting him with some sort of neurotic or off-topic rant. “You have one of two
choices: either just get over him and find yourself another bloke or do something about it, tell
James.”

I cocked my head to the side as I contemplated the options presented to me, not really liking
either one. In truth, I don't like losing, especially a bloke that I fancy, nor am I
particularly fond of the idea of being so forthright in a matter as delicate as that of my heart… I
much prefer having the upper hand in any situation, and both choices would cost me that ability in
some form or another.

I sighed. “Where's choice C, love?”

“There isn't one,” he plainly and bluntly told me.

*Bastard*.

“Then I'm afraid you're a useless prat, and I'm going to Sirius, have fun
reading!”

--

“That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard,” he bluntly told me as I lay on his bed, my
head buried in his pillow as I groaned in an unparalleled anguish.

*They always said that heartbreak was bitch, but I had always scoffed at the thought until
this point, when I was the one on the other spectrum, the one experiencing the terrible emotions,
and it hurt. It hurt like a* bitch*!*

“Go to hell you unsympathetic bastard!” I muttered through gritted teeth and a mouth blocked by
a pillow, all the while as desperately trying to prevent him from seeing the surely unappealing
blush that was spreading across my face.

He sighed; chuckling slightly as he gruffly pulled the pillow out from under my face ,which
resulted in a rather painful and unexpected crash into his mattress, one that I was entirely
unprepared for. “Oi, you prat, your mattress is *hard*!” I screamed, slapping his arm as I got
up, rubbing my chin soothingly.

“Whatever, you deserve to be slapped back into reality anyway. I mean what the hell, Lils? You
want him, but you don't want to be the cliché bitch that steals him from `the slag', as
you've so fittingly dubbed her. You've blocked yourself into this corner and I'm sure
that Remus told you the same thing so what do you want from me?”

“An option three,” I told him, smiling brightly, desperately hopeful.

He stared at me blankly, mouth slightly agape. “You're an idiot.”

I disappointedly shook my head at him, not at all impressed by his words. “And I think
you've said that before… not sure if it was those exact words at the moment, but it was
definitely somewhere along those lines—now you don't want to be repetitive, do you,
Sirius?”

He sent me an incredulous look as he shook his head at me, taking a seat by my side on his bed,
throwing his head into his hands as he groaned loudly.

“Cheer up, ole chap,” I clapped him on the back, an action that only made his cries grow. “Come
on, I can't have you being all bitter and pessimistic like this, doesn't send a very good
sign to the universe, now does it?”

“I hardly see how it's even correlated to the universe in any respect,” he sullenly, and
rather cynically, much to my distaste, muttered.

I rolled my eyes dramatically. “*Association*, Sirius, the deities—or whoever the fuck is
in charge of that whole naughty and nice list, because it sure as hell isn't Santa—will
immediately associate *your* negative comments and glum attitude to *this* conversation
which, in turn, brings them to *my* relationship with James. See, bad karma.”

“You're far too screwy for your own good,” he cried, yet again.

*It really wasn't a very masculine show of masculinity—and I say that for lack of a better
word, as really, regardless of how verbose I may be, I also talk a lot, coming up with synonyms for
all that shite gets rather tiring on the brain.*

*Either way, however, it was a pathetic sight, possibly the most pathetic sight I'd ever
witnessed… at that included my own moments, of all things. What a talent Sirius had there…*

“Ah yes, I think we've covered that one as well, you really do have a thing for running in
circles, don't you, love?”

“And this is coming from the bint who wants a bloke, but won't actually do anything
*reasonable* about it.”

“Oi, I will, just not anything that is incriminating, morally wrong, or could be misconstrued as
so.”

He raised his head to send me a dull and almost witless, on him at least, look. “And what
isn't when you're trying to steal another girl's *boyfriend*.”

“Well, you see, that's where you come in. You see, good ole Moony made a very good point
before, he mentioned how morally flexible you are, I need you to transfer those powers unto
me.”

“And how do you propose I go about doing that one?”

I shrugged. “I don't know, that's where you come in, you dolt.”

He scoffed. “Oh, so *I'm* the dolt in this situation?”

“Well you can't figure out simple concepts like what your role is in a plan… sorry to tell
you the truth, but I've always said that honesty is the best policy,” I smirked.

“Which is also why you told James that you're in love with him,” he quipped.

*Now,* that *was uncalled for.*

“Just give me a plan,” I mumbled darkly, rather put-off by the fact that I didn't have a
proper retort for that comment. *Damn*.

He shrugged.

“That's not a plan,” I tutted him, pointing out the obvious just because I adore how much it
aggravates him to have

“Don't berate or admonish me, it's patronizing and you're annoying enough as it
is.”

I gasped. “Oi!”

“I have a plan.”

That stopped any rant that may have been bubbling, waiting to bur out. “Ooh… that's almost
worthy of forgiveness.”

“I should hope so as I rather fear what you'd do to me in response to my last comment
otherwise.”

“Well you won't have to worry about that if your plan is worth anything, so go on,” I
ordered him, waving enthusiastically as I couldn't help but bounce on the bed slightly as I was
literally wiggling with anticipation.

*Finally*, I was getting somewhere.

“You could make him jealous.”

Sadly, however, “somewhere” wasn't really anywhere.

“You watch too many chick flicks.”

“Tut, tut,” Sirius grinned as he playfully flicked my nose—although it wasn't too playful
for me as it *was* rather painful. Didn't care for it much, honestly.

“Don't *tut* me when you just gave me the stupidest plan ever,” I snapped, pouting
slightly. “For fuck's sake, Sirius, I need a plan, not something that I could get off of any
old teenage romantic comedy. I need something `Princess Bride', not `Gone with the
Wind'.”

He sent me a quizzical look as he slowly, almost fearfully, asked “you do realize that there was
no other girl in the `Princess Bride', right?”

“Yes, but he was *so* hot—even if that whole moustache look really didn't suit him at
all…”

He sighed, nodding slightly in agreement—although reluctant to voice the concord for fear of
protecting his “macho-ness”. It's pathetic the lengths that blokes will go to to protect their
“masculinity” only to then do something to totally ruin it… like the amount of time that they spend
in from of the mirror, or the amount of money that they spend on hair products… although,
Sirius's hair *is* a thing of wonders, even if he does spend about as much money as people
spend on rent in a year for his products. Almost makes that indiscretion forgivable, even if he
does preen much too much for his own good.

“Well then, seems as if you're at a bit of an impasse.”

“I wouldn't call it an impasse, per say-”

“No, you're right, it's more so the world's biggest hurdle that you yourself have
constructed.”

“But I don't want to be cliché.”

“You're already there, Lils, how much of a difference can my plan really make in your cliché
female best mate status?”

I sighed, biting my lip slightly as I took in his words. “So… how does this whole jealousy thing
work then?”

He paused for a second, as if about to go on a long tirade all about our various options in
terms of the plan, but a second later his expression turned crestfallen. He shook his head
suddenly, a frown marring his face. “Lils, don't.”

“Don't what?”

He sighed. “Don't do this.”

“What?”

“*This—*all of this, the plan, the bull shit, *all* of it! I know I said,' he
stopped himself, raking a hand through his hair. “I know I offered the plan, but don't. You
want me to tell you that it'll be okay if you do it, but it won't. You're better than
this so stop it with all of the crap. Whatever you do you're going to end up hurting someone
and as `morally flexible' as I am, I'm also not about to let you hurt yourself. You
don't want to string some bloke along for the sake of making James jealous.”

“Who says?” I retorted quickly.

“I know you,” he shrugged in a rare display of a seriousness that lived up to his given name. “I
know you and I know that despite everything you spew you're a romantic. You want him to love
you, want *you*, and you want this all to happen under his own compulsion. I mean, do you
really want to trick him into falling for you?”

“No,” I begrudgingly grumbled.

*When the hell did he get so smart and rational anyway?*

He eyed me, smiling sadly my way, as he brought up a hand to cup my face, soothingly rubbing it.
“You're crazy you know that, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I can't wait to see all of the crap you and James will go through once you do get
together.”

I cocked my head to the side. “What are you saying?”

“I think he reciprocates the feeling, truthfully. He may not realize it, but you two make sense,
in an odd and quirky way…”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

I bit my lip, my insecurity shining through as I stuffed my hands into my lap, nervously
clutching the sheet. “What if he says no? What if he actually likes the slag?”

He shrugged. “At least you gave it a go, told him… and Remus and I will always be here to pick
up the pieces… plus there won't be any “what if”, think about what a burden that'll lift
from your shoulders.”

“You think so?”

He grinned, nodding. “Yeah, I do,” he breathed out, pulling me to his side, squeezing me
comfortingly.

“You know, you're far more philosophical and sweet than you let people think…”

He shrugged, again. “Helps with the image.”

I snorted. “I love you!”

“You better,” he growled, pinching my side before tossing me onto the bed and tickling me.

*As sweet as he may be, he'll always be a bastard nonetheless, and that act only testifies
that fact.*

--

**author's note***: well i hope you like these changes, I was honestly very bothered by
the previous version because I felt as if Lily was a very one-dimensional character, always bitchy
and vindictive, so I'm trying to ameliorate that fact, hopefully you're all enjoying this
version more, but if not, leave a comment on it.*

*PLEASE REVIEW!*

-->



3. I hate confessionals, too
----------------------------



**Chapter III: I hate confessionals, too**

--

“So…”

I turned to look at the bloke that had just plopped down next to me in history of magic and greeted
me with the rather unconventional salutation… not really charming, honestly, which is also why it
baffled me that it managed to give my heart palpitations nonetheless. *Damn girly heart of
mine*. “So…”

At that quip James threw me a rather nasty and withering look that actually managed to make me
question why the hell I actually liked the bastard. Because really, in all honesty, all feelings
aside, and all of that other preposterous nonsense, at the end of the line he was just an immature
arse who still thought that poop jokes are funny… not that they aren't, but they aren't
quite deserving of the hour long heckling in response that they tend to receive from James.

So why do I like—*love* him? What the hell is it about him that makes me swoon? Fuck, even I
can't figure that out.

“No need to be sarcastic.”

“No need to be monosyllabic,” I retorted, smiling, I always do enjoy our rather less than witty
battle of the wits. In reality they're just filled with pitiful insults that even a four year
old would most likely mock incessantly. But, then again, I suppose James never was the brightest
crayon in the box… he's more so the eye candy… even if he is in the top ten percent of our
year… that's beside the point if he still laughs upon hearing the word “duty” because of its
striking resemblance to the word “doodie”.

He chuckled lightly as he snaked an arm across the back of my chair and turned to me, intently
ignoring the professor. “So I haven't seen you in ages, but Remus and Sirius seem to be
spending all of their time with you, care to tell me what it is that's going on.”

“I have no idea what it is that you're referring to,” I feigned innocence.

He arched a brow my way. “*Oh*, really?”

I nodded enthusiastically, lips pursed. “Yep.”

“Lily, what's going on? What aren't you telling me? why does everyone seem to be in on
whatever it is that you have going on, *but* me, one of your best friends?!” he asked, spewing
question after question, his gaze growing more heated with each.

*I had honestly never even entertained the possibility that my choosing Sirius and Remus's
company over his might annoy him, but the fact that it did was rather invigorating, I must admit.
At least my feelings aren't* totally *one-sided, he clearly* does *care for
me…*

“What do you care?”

That question seemed to throw James for a loop as he immediately withdrew his arm to run a hand
through his hair as he fidgeted in his seat… actually looked like he was dying to go to the loo,
not a very striking sight.

*I think I offended him with that slightly uncouth question, actually.*

“You just look… I don't know… calm, I guess. It's sort of scary—actually… more so
disconcerting.”

I cocked my head to the side as I sent hi a puzzled look. “How so?”

“You've never been this calm… makes me wonder if you're planning something,” he slowly
admitted, scrutinizing me curiously.

I laughed at the irony of it as I nudged his shoulder with my own, playing it off as a joke in a
desperate attempt to detract away attention from my increasingly sweaty palms. My body always just
seemed to “go asunder” when around him. “And what sort of a plan could possibly ever include
avoiding you? You're the master of mucked up plans, I highly doubt that I would ever avoid
enlisting you for one of my, admittedly, usually catastrophic plans.”

He grinned as he raised his hands in defeat. “Just saying that you went into that `cat caught the
canary,' eerily normal mode and it was scaring me… besides, love, I happen to like your crazy
self, it's oddly endearing in a `Merlin I wish you'd just shut up already' way.”

I hate to admit it, but I giggled then. I *giggled*, I actually giggled. I swear I sounded
like some Jane Austen fanatic, hopelessly romantic tart. Honestly, it was pathetically
embarrassing, it went against all my principles, as ridiculously feminist as they may have been…
but at least I wasn't about to burn my bra, *right*?

Still… I hated him for being able to bring me to such lows, it was just cruel…

“Cute,” I drawled, trying to ignore the affect that he had on me. “So I'm planning something,
huh?—What makes you think that?” I raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

He shrugged, and damn him for that trademark move that was so manly-grunt-esque, as I had aptly and
none too fondly, named it. “I don't know… in fact, I don't even think I want you to tell me
if I'm right or wrong.”

“And why's that?”

He shrugged again.

Honestly*, what the hell is it with blokes and shrugging?!*

“Well, on one hand, your plans *never* fair well, and then on the other… well, the idea that I
was able to suss out the fact that you're planning something… that would mean I'd actually
understand you, and entering that realm of terrifying logic doesn't sound much better than
falling victim to your catastrophic plans. In fact I think I'd prefer my sanity to—to the other
possibility.”

I scoffed, throwing him a glare. “You're such an arse!”

He smirked, smugly crossing his arms across hiss chest and casually leaning back in his chair. “And
yet you love me anyway.”

*And I hated the fact that that there was truth to that statement… it just wasn't fair…Damn
prat.*

--

They say that there are two things that you can always expect in life, two sureties in it if there
are no others, and that's death and taxes, well that's bull.

*I* can think of a thousand other shitty things that you can add to that morbid list, like
heart break… now *that*, that's a big one there. In fact, I'd be willing to bet
everyone can at least attest for *one* that they had to bear through—be it that boy you were
totally in love with when five but then he pulled your braid and you never really forgave him
after, may Jeremy Bancock rot in hell for eternity, or the best friend, i.e. James here, who just
can't seem to realize that *yes*, you do have breasts!

I suddenly felt a rather hard shoulder bump with mine and I scowled at the interruption in my, in
my opinion, rather stunning and revolutionary tirade. “What?!” I spat, whipping my head so fast
that I was surprised that my neck didn't crack from the sudden movement.

Sirius, however, being the prat that he was, merely smiled at me like an idiot, which he was. “What
are you contemplating now?”

I shrugged. “Death and taxes,” was my morose retort as I cocked my head to the side, turning my
attention to trying to guess how many papers were on that massive pile atop my desk, making it look
like Mount Everest, almost.

“That's rather morbid, don't you think?”

“I was comparing it to love.”

“Scratch my previous statement then, that's *very* morbid.”

I shrugged. “To each their own,” I replied in a sing-song voice.

He chuckled, nudging my shoulder with his own. “What's going on up there, anyway?” he asked,
knocking on my head with his knuckles. *How rude*! “Far too many cogs seem to be working in
overdrive for that to be the extent of your worries.”

“I don't know… it all just seems so stupid and folly, I guess.”

“What?”

“*This*, the plan, my actually liking James-”

“Loving,” he amended like the insufferable prat that he is.

“Right,” I rolled my eyes at the pesky reminder, “*that*.”

“So tell me, my dear,” he began, shifting his body so that he was lying on his side and facing me.
“What is it that seems so pointless?”

“Forcing a bloke to love me… I—I don't want to like—*love* James anymore. It hurts, it
hurts like a fucking bitch and I hate it because it makes me that vulnerable weak girl that I
promised myself I'd never be, but because, naturally, karma's a bitch, I am her! And then,
to add insult to injury, no matter how much I piss and moan about—which, ironically enough, only
adds to the whiny girl image I'm trying to escape—nothing ever changes. I'm not doing
anything to ameliorate this whole *fucking* mess!” I ranted, admittedly not too coherently as
each of my arguments came in a tangles mess of unrelated clauses. “I just—*ugh*!” I groaned,
hitting the comforter in aggravation, a rather amazing display of my unparallel strength, if I may
say so. “Just… *ugh*… what the fuck?!”

And like a prat, Sirius merely chortled in response. “Then fix it.”

I guffawed. “Oh, and just like that it'll all be better, peaches and roses, right?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Well, I don't think so… since I don't really know what the hell that
saying means, but can only guess, I can't be a hundred percent sure if the answer is
`no'-”

“Sirius,” I stopped him, “going off on a tangent there.”

“Right… well what I'm trying to say is that you don't know what'll happen, but if you
want him then you have to take the chance.”

“Hm… I don't like that, too many if clauses there,” I decided, tactfully might I add.

He rolled his eyes. “Don't be so pessimistic, Lils.”

“I'm not, I'm being rational here.”

He guffawed. “Really, how?”

“He has a girlfriend,” I reminded Sirius. “You know how rare that is for him… if she means
something to him and I come and tell him about all of my feelings, well where will I be then?
I'll lose a friend-”

“No you won't!”

“Yes,” I argued. “I will, Sirius. It's not as simple as you paint it out to be there, even if
we say we'll stay friends there'll always be that undercurrent of awkwardness and you know
it!”

“But is all of this crap you're going through now not worth the chance? Don't you want to
stop being *that* girl?”

*Ooh, bringing that up was downright cruel of him. He knows my abhorrence for that cliché, cheeky
bastard; how dare he turn the tables on me like that?!*

I sighed, clinching my jaw. “You suck,” I informed him.

He beamed. “You know I'm right.”

“No, I know you're a prat.”

“Whatever,” he waved me off carelessly. “So long as you tell him…”

“I'll think about it… *seriously*, this time I actually will,” I reassured him upon noting
his disbelieving look.

--

“You should do it,” Remus advised me as we sat huddled together in a far off corner of the library
where no one else could possibly hear or happen across our conversation.

“Ugh,” I groaned, throwing my head into my awaiting hands. “You're joining the bandwagon as
well?!”

He laughed, most probably at my act of utter petulance. Oddly enough, however, I wasn't too
bothered by that, but more so with how the universe seemed to be so against me…

Remus sighed, bringing a hand to my back and rubbing it comfortingly. “Come on, love, it'll all
be okay, you'll see.”

“Oh, honestly, do you even believe the shite you spew?!” I hysterically screeched, far from the
prettiest sight at that point… I imagine that I must have sounded much like a mangled cat.

He softly smiled my way. “You don't have to be so scared, you know.”

I rolled my eyes, scoffing. *Preposterous*!

“No… you don't, Lils-”

“I'm not going to lose him over some muddled up feelings that I may or may not even be having,”
I informed him through gritted teeth, back stiff and all.

He cocked a brow. “So now you've moved on to denial… or should I say reverted back to?”

I shrugged.

“You want him, Lils, you're in love with him,” he informed me in return. “Don't play games
anymore, it's juvenile and pathetic,” he spat out, his distaste biting.

“What if he says no, Remus? What do I do *then*? Where am I left *then*?... Why can't
you and Sirius see how terrible of an idea this is?!”

Taken aback, he paused for a second, but soon he regained composure. “Because… because sometimes
it's worth it isn't it?”

*And* why *does that make sense in a terribly illogical way? Fuck me.*

--

“I… um… James, can we talk?” I asked him, interrupting him from what appeared to be a riveting bout
of staring at the ceiling as he lay in bed.

“Yeah, sure, take a seat,” he told me, patting the spot right next to him.

I plopped down onto it in a none too ladylike manner, and not the least bit bothered by that fact
either. “I have to admit something.”

“What?” he asked me, eyebrows stringing together as he turned on his side to face me, sending me a
quizzical look, clearly perplexed by the obviously serious nature of the conversation, a rarity
with me.

“I… well… ugh… it's—it's like this…” I stopped, tired of my incoherent stammering and
rather angered by the amused look on James's face. *Fucking arse*.

“Yes?” he goaded.

I let out a deep, frustrated breath. “I… okay, here's the deal, I like you—actually, no…
scratch that, I think I'm sort of in love with you… and I also sort of hate you for that, come
to think of it, actually. Weird, right?” I rambled on nervously, plastering a big, fake smile onto
my face when I finally finished with that last, lackluster, rhetorical question.

And I think his jaw may have very well alchemist hit the floor upon hearing that rather
unorthodoxly put admission.

“Oh,” he *finally* responded, his tone lost.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a harsh nod or two… or God knows how many. “and I mean to add to it all,
I'm hormonal because “aunt flow” decided to pop in, or out really, for an early visit, and—and
I have to watch you go off with your little slag when all I really want to do is just grab you and
throw you across that desk behind you there and do dirty, *dirty* things with you!...
And—and,” I sniffed helplessly. “And I think I'm going crazy from all of this, well
crazi*er*, because I'm on the verge of tears here and I *don't* cry, I just
don't, I was never *that* girl… well until now, apparently.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah!” I cried out, hysterically too. “And I honestly think I'm on the verge of going mad with
all this crap just piling atop of my shoulders, and all… so… *yeah*…” I weakly finished.

“Oh.”

“You're saying that a lot.”

He nodded again, expression lost.

I bit my lip.

He continued nodding, jaw still slack and bobbing, rather unattractively, with every nod.

“So…” I ventured.

“Um… I—I have to go,” he announced before hopping up off his bed and blazing out that room like a
human speedy Gonzales.

*Well fuck me.*

--



**author's note:** *so this is actually much more like I'd originally planned the
story out to be like, before everything just went haywire with it after I started second guessing
myself with it, and I hope you're preferring it.*





PLEASE REVIEW.

-->



4. but, darn, I do love him.
----------------------------



**Chapter IV: but, darn, I** **do** **love him.**

--

“Are you sure that he just left?” Sirius asked as he rubbed my back.

I sharply flinched upon hearing that question, though, and immediately backed away, letting his
hand drop. “no, Sirius, I just imagined him running out of that room as if I was the devil
incarnate or something,” I retorted, glaring at the tactless prat.

*I mean, really, did he think so little of me that he* *couldn**'**t*
*even trust my judgment on such a clear and concise matter as this?*

“Sirius, shut up,” Remus saved the day by slapping the bastard upside the head.

*HAH**, suck it, jerk*!

“Lils, do you want us to go talk to him, find out why it is that he left like that?” Remus
asked, taking my face in his hands and gently rubbing away the tears that streaked my face, a
surely frightening sight as I was wearing mascara. It amazed me that they could even look at, me at
that moment as I truly must have looked something along the lines of the general muggle perception
of the appearance of a witch.

“No,” I shook my head, my voice meek. I pouted a bit as I made a loud sniffing sound—terribly
unattractive, that was.

Remus smiled at me, and very gently so. “Are you sure? Don't you want to know if it was a
misunderstanding?”

“He ran, Remus, hightailed out of there as if I was the fucking black plague, there's
nothing to misconceive!”

“I could always beat the shit out of him for being such an insensitive arse…” Sirius offered and
the dangerous undertone to his words assured me that he really would.

“No,” I shook my head, my voice coming out like a croak. “It's just that… *urgh*, this
is exactly what I was so afraid of, you know? I don't want to lose him; he means the world to
me, he's my damn best friend!”

Remus winced. “Lils, I'm sorry for pushing you… I honestly thought that James liked you, but
just didn't realize it…”

“I just thought they'd be pretty attractive together…” Sirius bluntly admitted with a shrug.
“Plus, figured it'd be nice to see Lily smile…”

*I* *didn**'**t* *know whether to be flattered or repulsed by those
two reasons—one so sensitive and the other so…* vain.

Remus just turned to Sirius with a look of utter incredulity, but before he could say anything I
stopped him with a loud sigh.

“It's okay,” I reassured them, taking a large gulp to *try* and get rid of that growing
lump in my throat. It didn't work. *Damn*. “it's better this way… at least the truth
is out of the way… at least there are no what ifs or anything of the sort…” I said, more so for my
sake than theirs. Maybe, just *maybe*, if I kept repeating those words I'd actually begin
to believe them, too!

“Do you *really* believe that?” Sirius asked, entirely missing the point of that
monologue.

*At times, he could be one o the smartest individuals I ever met… at others, however… well I
doubt such a caliber of density has ever been surpassed.*

“No, you prat, of course I don't, but what else am I supposed to say to try to assuage my
broken heart now, huh? What do you expect from me, Black?!” I screeched, none too self-conscious
about my blatant display of anger, he deserved what was coming, I figured.

He moved back slightly, fear evident on his face. “Sorry… didn't realize,” he sheepishly
admitted.

I didn't hold back the urge to roll my eyes. “I'm going to go to my dorm… cry a bit
more, maybe wallow some with chocolate, too…”

Remus took the safe route with me by simply nodding in reply.

--

I let out a deep breath as I roamed the halls. I had thought I'd go straight to my dorm to
mope a bit more, but found the dark and dreary tone of the dungeons to be much more appeasing. I
never thought I would so willingly and gratefully enter the area, but suddenly it was a very nice
companion. So perfectly reflective of my mood, I found it to be my best friend at that moment,
intimate or not.

My fingers ran across the grooves of the walls as I slowly, aimlessly walked around.

“You look rather depressed,” I heard a voice say from behind me.

I winced, immediately recognizing it. “Sirius, I told you, I'll be fine,” I assured him, not
bothering to even turn to face him as I spoke. “I'm Lily; indestructible is usual term in
describing me after all, right?”

He released a deep sigh. “Don't bull shit, if you need me to leave you alone I will, but
only if you're alone in your dorm where it's safe.”

I nodded. “Okay, I'll head back now… I promise.”

“I'll be watching you on the map, if you don't go I *will* track you down again,”
he promised me and the words made me smile. Despite his all around pervert and ass-ness he's a
total ace as a mate.

“Will do,” I waved as I walked off, never turning to face him so he wouldn't have to look at
my tear streaked face and I wouldn't have to see the struck look that would definitely mar his
face. I don't think I could take pity on top of it all.

--

I walked into my room, not even paying attention to anything as I threw myself onto my bed. I
then learned, however, that that wasn't the smartest thing to do as soon after I jumped off the
bed, letting out hysterical screeches when I heard a soft, whispered “Lily” from beside me.

When I finally regained my sense I turned to the bloke sitting on my bed. “James, what the hell
was that?—What are you even doing here?” I sprouted off questions like there was no tomorrow.

His nostrils flared slightly as he looked up at me from his position on the bed and I
couldn't help but note the way that his leg was nervously jiggling up and down.

*How odd, he looked* *genuinely* *terrified.* *It was r**ather empowering,
actually.*

“You had no right, you know?”

Well that was certainly an unexpected reply. “I… I don't expect you to break up with Adele,
James… I realize that you're with her and didn't think you'd just drop everything to be
with me. Honestly, I just had to tell you… I don't know why, but I did. I hope that we can
still be friends, though.”

He groaned as he ran a hand through his hair, roughly pulling on the strands in his aggravation.
“You're… you're unbelievable, you know that?”

I bit my lip, trying to keep it from trembling in my state of utter humiliation. “I'm
sorry.”

He rolled his eyes. “You remember what you said to me back at the end of fifth year?”

“No… not really…”

“You said that we were better off mates and that there was no point in my continuing to pursue
you because nothing would ever come of it, but a failed chance at friendship.”

I winced. *Ouch**, that* *had* *been callous of me.*

“I'm sorry,” I murmured.

He shook his head. “I didn't know what to make of what you said at first. It confused me;
I'd never thought you might change your mind… not on that.”

“Well… I did.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, albeit dully.

“I… I'm sorry, James, I didn't want to confuse you or make you feel awkward around me.
Really, there was no hidden agenda, I promise.”

He nodded slowly. “I know.”

“Good…” I said, not knowing what else to say after that proclamation.

After a silence that felt like it had lasted for *ages**,* James finally spoke up
again. “It really confused me, you know? I mean, I'd *never* expected to hear those words
come from your mouth and I just… I needed space, I guess.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“Good,” he nodded in reply, and I couldn't help but note how there was a lot of nodding
going around. How awkward.

“So… anyway… well, after, I just walked around for a while, went to Hogsmeade and had a few
pints-”

*Ugh**, men really are just hopeless drunks,* *aren**'**t*
*they?* *Is* *it even possible for them to deal with a dilemma without the dizzying
effects of alcohol to stumblingly steer them through it.*

“No, James!”

He sent me a halfhearted smile, flushing a bit—surely knowing what was running through my mind
at that exact moment. “in my defense it was only three or four… but *anyway*, I couldn't
think of how I was going to deal with it all, how I'd be able to face you after that-”

“You shouldn't have worried, it's not like I'm going to jump you now that you know…
I just wanted to be honest.”

“I know that, but it takes some time to realize truths like that, first reaction is generally
the insane,” he shrugged.

I couldn't help, but laugh a bit at that. “And then what happened?” I asked, finally
allowing myself to relax a bit as I took a seat in the chair across from the bed and him. “I mean
it's been over eight hours since you and I last spoke, surely you must have done more than have
a few pints… unless it was more than a few, that is.”

He chortled. “It wasn't, and I realized something then.”

“What?”

“You're a bitch.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “And am I supposed to thank you for that now? I mean I give you a
proclamation of my undying love and you tell me I'm a bitch… not too chivalrous there, James…
though they *do* tell me that it's dead…”

He rolled his eyes at my tirade. “That's not my point here, Lily.”

“Then, *please*, do share because I'm praying that it gets at least a bit better than
that.”

“I—well I haven't really considered us in ages, not since you gave me that little ultimatum
of yours, I figured it'd be smarter to just forget any what ifs…”

*Great**, so* *I**'**d* *screwed myself over then. God, I was an
idiot!*

He continued: “and I've moved on, I really have. I've dated other girls, had fun, let go
of you-”

*Ouch*, I winced. *It really* *wasn**'**t* *getting better at
all!*

“And then you came out with this out of nowhere-”

I didn't know how much more of his blasted speech I could take as I turned my face away from
his, thanking the deities for leaving the room dark so, under solely the light of the moon, I could
hide the tears that were slowly wreaking havoc upon my face. I always just looked disgustingly red
and blotchy whenever I cried.

“And it shocked me… I didn't know what to think, Lily. I thought I was over you, that it was
just platonic, but I don't know… as I thought about it more something changed. At first, I
thought that I really didn't reciprocate those feelings at all; I mean I have Adele, after all.
Then, though… well six hours in something changed.”

My neck almost snapped as I turned back to face him. “What?” I weakly gasped in surprise.

He released a shaky breath as he got up from his seat and moved towards her, slowly lowering
himself to kneel before her so that they could be at eyelevel. “I realized that maybe things
hadn't changed as much as I thought they did.”

That earned a gasp and a heavy gulp from me as he brought up a hand and cupped my face.

“So I came back… went to see Adele… and I ended things.”

“Really?” I asked, shakily, afraid that maybe my imagination was playing tricks on me or
something equally cruel.

He smiled full. “Yeah,” he whispered before pulling my face towards his.

The kiss was hot, heady, and overpowering as I allowed his tongue to push its way into my mouth,
his muscle quickly melding with my own in a fluidity that scared the bejesus out of me in its utter
perfection.

“Wow,” I breathed when he finally pulled away as air became of the utmost importance.

“Yeah,” he gulped.

I bit my lip as I looked up at him. “Want to move to somewhere more comfortable?”

**Fin.**

--

**author's note***: well the end had to be sappy and utterly cliché as the
challenge* was *to write a story to the title “Like a Romantic Comedy”, and what are those if
not cliché? I do hope, however, that it was enjoyable nonetheless.*

*Please drop a review!*

-->