No. It’s not possible. This is not happening. He cannot be Head Boy! I cannot share a Common Room and dormitory with him! It’s impossible, undoable. He’s so… insufferable, despicable, intolerable, excruciating… yet so devilishly handsome… oh my, I did not just write that! James Potter – handsome!? Well, half the school seems to be hypnotised into thinking that his horrible hazel eyes… his cute, sticky up, long raven hair… his well defined Quidditch muscles… STOP IT!!! ARGH!!! James Harold Potter – you MUST die! Argh! Your making me INSANE!!!
See, I’m falling victim too! I cannot fall victim! Lily Evans CANNOT fall victim too James Potter! It’s impossible! Not after six years of ignoring his flirtatious attitude! James Potter is the lowest low life on the face of the Earth! Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah – I am the Head Girl. Good. But James Potter is the Head Boy. Bad.
“I have to go the Head carriage,” I muttered to Halie Danby, Claire Curling and Jimi Ruby– my three best friends – when we boarded the Hogwarts Express.
“Oh, Miss Head has to go and boss firsties about!” Claire said loudly, and Halie and Jimi grinned.
“Oh, be quiet. See you later!” I called, disappearing down the end of the carriage, waving goodbye to my talkative friends.
As I squeezed through the chattering students, I wondered… who would the Head Boy be? Will I know him? I knew practically everyone in the school…
I found the Prefect and Head carriage and entered.
I saw eight fifth years, but no seventh year. I shrugged it off; he mustn’t have found the carriage yet. As I was telling the fifth years what to do, the carriage door slid open and… he walked in…
“Lilyflower! What a surprise,” James Potter smiled slyly, closing the compartment door and standing beside me.
“What are you doing here?” I groaned, turning away from the tittering fifth years and facing the arrogant face of Mr Potter, who was smirking happily at me. The fifth year girls blushed and fixed their hair. James winked at them, causing them to swoon pathetically in their seats.
“Um…” James said, looking sarcastically down at his feet, “Standing?” he suggested. The fifth years started laughing louder.
“I can see that,” I said angrily, “I mean what are you doing here?” James smiled, and pointed to his chest. There, glinting on his chest was a Head Boy badge. “Who did you steal that from?” I demanded immediately.
“…The envelope?” James answered after a moment. I snorted disbelievingly. “What? You don’t believe moi, the one, the only, super smart, super sexy James Potter can’t get a simple Head Boy badge? I am disgusted!” Potter held his hand to his chest, feinting being hurt.
I almost collapsed in shock. This had to be some kind of sick, twisted joke. “I’m serious,”
“Ah, so am I!” he said after a minute and – before I could prevent this – he kissed me.
James Potter kissed me. On the lips.
Of course, I couldn’t do anything about it, being Head Girl. I just pushed him angrily into the wall and turned back the laughing fifth years, and furiously addressed them and instructed them what to do. James just stared at me the whole time.
“And, finally, our new Head Girl and Boy is Lily Evans and James Potter!” Professor Dumbledore announced to the Hogwarts Students. Several people laughed, and there were one or two wolf-whistles at this announcement. James standing on the table and doing a great bow – persuaded by his fellow Marauders – didn’t help me. Lily – the girl who hated (but not completely…. ARGH STOP IT!!!) James – and James – the boy who ‘loved’ Lily – had to share a Common Room together. Hogwarts was looking forward to twice as much curses and wall shaking arguments this year between the famous Marauder and the most popular girl.
“James is Head Boy? James Potter! Dumbledore’s lost his nut!” laughed Halie, shaking her long, corkscrewed blonde hair as food appeared on the golden plates. It had of course, ahem, slipped my mind that James was Head Boy.
“Oh Merlin help me,” I muttered, putting my head in my hands as James winked at me from across the table.
“Lils, he’s really not that bad…” Jimi whispered, looking at James, who was chatting and laughing with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew, with a slightly glazed look. She twirled her brunette hair in her fingers, still gazing.
“Just because you have a crush on him doesn’t mean I do,” I muttered angrily, stabbing my steak with my fork. Jimi’s head snapped up.
“WHAT? I do NOT have a crush on him!” she squealed, looking at me, “Is it that obvious?” she added quietly. Rolling my eyes, I returned to venomously stabbing the poor steak with my fork before Claire took it off me and gave me some truffle. I don’t think it was because she felt sorry for it but, as she had barbeque sauce all over her face and hair. Whoops…
I told the prefects to lead the first years to the Common Room and show them around. I had important business to discuss.
I walked past my students alone (my friends had gone off – yawning) and up to the Headmaster’s table, where he was chatting with a house-elf. As I approached, the house-elf Disapparated and Dumbledore smiled up at me.
“Miss Evans, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he smiled, sitting in his grand, gold and purple chair.
“Sir, why did you make Potter Head Boy?” I asked as politely as my furious state would permit.
“Well, seeing as making Mr Lupin Prefect didn’t help, I thought making him Head Boy might permit him to… deflate… his head a bit,” Dumbledore stated carefully. I almost chocked on my own saliva.
“Deflate his head? The only way to deflate Potter’s big head is too stick a pitchfork in it!” I screeched. I then realised with a start who I was talking too, “Sorry sir! I just mean…”
“That’s quite alright Miss Evans. Well, we’ll just see what happens, eh?” Dumbledore winked at me. I nodded and walked off, blushing furiously.
“Gobbledegook,” I said as nicely as I could to the Fat Lady.
“Lily Evans! Welcome back. I hear from Violet you’re Head Girl! Well done!” the Fat Lady congratulated me. I nodded thanks and asked to get in. “You do know you have your own Common Room and Dormitory?” she asked me.
“What?” I said, thoroughly startled. I had my own Common Room?
“Yes – the Head’s Lounge. Just down the hall there – Vincent’s portrait – he’s the one surrounded by the Hippogriff’s!” the Fat Lady directed me.
“Brilliant, what’s the password?”
“I think James named it already… ask Vincent – show him your badge,”
“Thank you,” I thanked the Fat Lady and sprinted the Hippogriff portrait. Vincent was a very tall, thin man with long flaming red hair down to his waist. His face was rough yet the features soft, and his blue eyes had Dumbledore’s sparkle. “Um…” I stuttered, wondering what to say. Vincent turned away from the black Hippogriff he was feeding and looked at me.
“Oh, are you the Head Girl?” he asked. His voice was crisp yet reassuring. I nodded. “Let me see the badge… yes, you are Lily I take it?”
I was taken aback. “How’d you know my name? Where you told or-”
“No, no, no!” Vincent reassured me, “The young Head Boy… James Potter! He named the password after you! Very enjoyable to watch him actually…” I groaned. “Anyway, he named the password Lilyflower!” Vincent announced grandly.
“Can I change it?” I asked desperately.
“Once a month only, sweetheart,” Vincent winked at me, and then swung open. I crawled in and, as soon as I saw who occupied the room, I had the biggest desire ever to back out again.