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Death To James Potter by Jellyman
Chapter 29 : The Grand Plans of Lily Evans
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 44

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“I tell you, Satan's gonna have no trouble taking over here 'cause all the women are gonna say: ‘What a cute butt.’ ‘He's Satan!’ ‘You don't know him like I do.’ ‘He's the Prince of Darkness!’ ‘I can change him.’”
— Bill Hicks, Arizona Bay routine

The Grand Plans of Lily Evans

“I had sex with James Potter and now he doesn’t fancy me anymore.”

No, no, no, that wouldn’t work. Marissa would probably hex me before I got another word in and Ella would most likely faint.

No, I need something else - something sly...

“Oh, hey ladies! I was just wondering, hypothetically of course, what you would do if say, I don’t know, I said I was in love with James Potter? And had drunken sex with him?”

Okay, so I was about a subtle as a hippogriff in the Charms classroom. But I had to figure something out soon, lest I be at breakfast and my own paranoia makes me blurt “I had sex!”

And you know as well I as do, that is a very distinct possibility

I shifted in my four-poster, unable to find a comfortable position. The walk back from the kitchens had been so horribly awkward, there aren’t even words I think would do it proper justice. I’ll tell you this though - James and I’d been talking about the weather.

At night.

Yeah, it happened. It wasn’t pretty.

After being rejected by the man I was not-so-secretly in love with, talking about the weather on the humiliating walk back to our dormitories had pretty much killed me. We’d given each other and uncomfortable hug - “Well, we are friends,” he’d said - and an even more stiff goodnight, which had practically brought me to tears.

James Potter didn’t like me anymore. See how wrong that looks? It was as obvious as the fact humans had to breathe - James Potter likes Lily Evans.

See? Do you understand?

To hear him say had broken my heart clean into two.

However, lying in bed, awake, at five o’clock a Saturday morning was not my idea of fun. Especially when planning how exactly I was going to tell my best friends that I was in love with a boy who should really be my mortal enemy. Oh, and don’t forget the sex...that because of my own stupidity occurred.

And that I was blind drunk at the time.

Sometime I really do wonder how I get through the days. Honestly, why does everything seem to happen to me? Surely it’s not normal to have this much drama?

I sighed. Basically the only conclusion I can draw is that I am simply a freak of nature. Abnormal, if you will.

Story of my bloody life.

And all that doesn’t even contemplate that fact James Potter has given up on me. And the fact that I don’t even have the courage to tell him the truth: that I was completely in love with him and nothing there was nothing he could do to change that.

Some Gryffindor I am.

I frowned - that’s not entirely fair. I was Lily Evans! I was brave, dammit! Who could put James Potter back in line for six out of the seven (this year being the exception) of being at Hogwarts?

I could!

Who, at the snap of her fingers, could have the entire band of Marauders on their knees, begging for mercy?


Okay enough pep talk. I could do this. If I could pull this off, maybe I wouldn’t have to tell Marissa and Ella...and face a probable death by Marissa’s wand and guilt over Ella’s brain exploding.

Now, all I needed was a confidence boost...maybe a short skirt and a low top? Oh bollocks to winter, I needed to show some leg!

I threw the covers off and leaped out of bed - though I was slightly hindered by the pesky crimson hangings - and scrambled over to my draws. Yanking open the draws, I dug around, trying to find anything that would possibly suit what I was going to.

Which, of course, translates to finding the shortest possible scrap of clothing in my drawers.

After several minutes of desperate searching, all I had to show for it was a short white dress that looked like something those hippy kids would wear around London.

So in short, it looked like an oversized t-shirt - which was not the look I was going for. I had no intentions of associated myself with men’s shirts in the presence of the boy I had had sex with.

I shuddered involuntarily. Merlin, it would be like giving a niffler a treasure chest. Getting ready so soon, Evans?

No, best not risk it. I put the shirt away, opting for jeans and a jumper. Never mind clothes, make up was the key!

Barely containing my excitement, I ran to the bathroom to change. After a quick shower which kinda calmed me down (okay, not really), I threw on my clothes and started to collect my arsenal, amassing a pile from all the girls kits.

Ruby red lipstick, foundation, concealer, blush, eyeliner, mascara, eyelash curler...Merlin, who knew this was going to be so hard?

Whatever. The more make up, in my opinion, the thicker my confidence was.

Shaking my head, I looked at my reflection and regretted it almost at once. My eyes were red-rimmed from crying, sporting dark circles underneath from lack of sleep. My hair looked like a bird’s nest perched precariously in a messy bun on my head. My skin - oh God, my milky beautiful skin! - was pasty and sickly in the harsh light of the bathroom, a testimony to the stress I’d been under the last couple of weeks.

In short, I was a complete wreck. I was honestly surprised the mirror didn’t crack.

Fighting back tears at my poor appearance, I started work. Carefully reading the instructions on the Ella’s concealer, ‘apply and blend’ I attempted to...well, apply and blend. Only having never used concealer, I didn’t really know what blend meant.

And I was pretty sure Ella’s skin tone was a little different from mine. Was she really this white?

She might as well glow in the dark!

Upon this realization, I noticed I really didn’t know how to use any of the make-up to my advantage. Except, of course, the eyeliner and mascara, the only things there that were actually mine.

Okay, never fear. New plan. Hastily shoving all the make-up back into their respective bags, I sneaked back into the dark dormitory. Tiptoeing carefully across the room, I quietly reached Marissa’s chest of drawers. Opening, I rummaged around through her knickers until I found her copy of A Teenage Witch’s Guide To Looking Fabulous!

When I’d originally confronted her about it after finding it lying in the bathroom back it sixth year, she’d tried to fob it as Ella’s.

I always knew better.

I leaped back onto my four-poster, making a faint thump! and a long creeeeeeeak! as the bed groaned under my weight.

Shut up, I mentally scorned. I’m not that fat.

Okay, I was officially insane. I was talking to a bed.

Shaking my head to ward off any more insanity, I focused my attention on the book, flicking through the pages. It was in a format that showed you a witch’s makeover and then gave you the specific spell for that unique makeover. Quite genius really, though I’d never tell Marissa that. After about twenty minutes of flicking through the pages, I finally found the perfect one.

Dark, mysterious-looking eyes; soft, red lips; hint of blush across her cheeks; and, of course, no belmishes at all.

Lucky I was excellent at Charms, I wasn’t really worried about stuffing it up. I quickly read the instructions; wave your wand clockwise around your face and say the incantation, ‘venustus bellus’

Sound easy. I practiced the wand movement a couple of times and repeated the words a few more times, before I decided I was ready. Putting book away and concentrating on keeping my face perfectly still, I waved my wand around my face and said the words with perfect prounciation, “Venustus bellus!

A tingle of magic spread through me and suddenly my head felt curiously light. Excited I rushed into the bathroom and looked in the mirror -


I was bald; my eyelashes, eyebrows, hair - everything was gone. I looked like my bald Uncle Joseph.

I looked like an alien.

Shock swept through me and it was all too much and everything went black.



“Oh God, what did she do to herself?!”


The voices spun around my head and I opened my eyes to see a blonde and dark-haired figure swimming in my vision.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re awake!”

My head throbbed at the back and I slowly lifted my hand to feel around - on to find the lump was just smooth, bare skin. Tears filled my eyes as my memories came rushing back.

I began to sob as I pulled myself into a sitting position. I noted I was still in the bathroom with Ella and Marissa crouching around me, looking worried, but I didn’t realized much else...other than the fact I was bald. “What have I done?” I wailed. “Do I really deserve this?”

Marissa rubbed my smooth head comfortingly. “Well, Lily, my book can only be used by me...a precautionary spell by the publishing company to stop thieves.”

I wailed some more. Really, life was not fair AT ALL.

Ella looked at me pityingly. “Look, it can all be fixed my a simple Reversal spell, Lils, don’t worry.”

Marissa smiled at me as I hiccuped, brightening slightly at the news. “Yeah, then I can do the spell for you, hun, sound good?”

I nodded feeling like I was five.

I was completely deluded when I said these girls weren’t my best friends. No one and nothing would ever stop me from loving them.

Not even James Potter.


Thankfully, neither asked why I wanted the spell in the first place. They must have noticed my delicate emotional state and decided it wasn’t worth the risk.

Thank God, because I may have had a nervous breakdown.

After an hour or two of restorative magic, I was finally presentable. My confidence had taken a beating with the whole balding episode, but I was going on simple determination now.

I was going to tell James the truth and we were going to live happily ever after.

And nothing was going to change that. Period.

Ella and Marissa kept the conversation light on our walk down to the hall. Ella’s first Quidditch match was next week, so she was terribly excited.

“...and I really want to be prepared so I don’t screw up,” she was saying as we reached the doors to the Great Hall.

I opened the doors quickly, adrenaline pumping and a silly grin on my face. “Don’t be stupid Ella, you’re a fantastic keeper,” I said, scanning the hall.

There he was - but, wait, what was that lump on his lap? My smile turned quickly into a frown and anger began to bubble up. The lump giggled as James whispered in it’s ear, squirming delightedly.

What was this? He only told me last night he’d given up on me and now he had a new toy? Of all the low -

Then I got a good look at her face.

Oh my God. Jane Ceedoor? After six years of constant worship, I had been dumped for Jane Ceedoor?

Oh, no he didn’t. Rage consuming me, I hastened my steps and stomping towards where James and Jane - James and Jane, doesn’t it make you sick? - sat, a look of pure mania on my face.

As I approached, James glanced up from Ceedoor, who was still sprawled gracelessly across his lap, and smiled, looking in no way remorseful. Bastard. “Oh, hey Lily, what’s going -”

I couldn’t help myself. It was so natural to me.

So I punched him. Right in the nose.

Oh yes. Lily’s back.

A/N: The latin is just a combo of ‘lovely’ and ‘beautiful’ I found on yahoo!Answers...which debates whether or not it is correct, but it looks okay, so I’m not fussed :) Oh, and thank you to DarkRose at the forums who helped me out with the new summary!

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