Chapter 1
I was always one of those girls who fell for a smooth talker. Not just any smooth talker would suffice, however. He had to be a smooth talker with class--something that evidently showed that he was more mature than the boys in my year. Someone not like James Potter.
Of course sappy endings (which meant happy endings, in my view) would come automatically with a smooth talker. Everyone but me underrated clichés. I happened to love clichés, and that is probably why I settled for a sappy love life. I even looked it up in the dictionary; it meant “overly sweet or sentimental”. Well, I had a sweet tooth, so how could this be any different? I was hopelessly romantic, though my quick-tempered personality would convince anyone else otherwise. I suppose it was a façade I hid behind; it gave me comfort. I told myself that when Mr. Right came along, I would let that mask drop.
All my friends were currently taking a tutorial in potions, so I had nothing to do but sit in the common room and attempt some homework. I was sitting in a Gryffindor armchair pondering all this when a sudden blast of water hit the side of my face. I screamed and turned to face my aggressor, already guessing who it was. I was right.
“Potter!” I shrieked, jumping from the chair and brandishing my own wand. I did not care that water was dripping down my cheek; all I cared about was getting back at the messy-haired git. On impulse, I sent a flock of birds from the tip of my wand to attack his black locks.
The birds did their job well; soon Potter’s hair was engulfed in yellow fluff balls. Behind him, Sirius Black was barking with laughter. Remus Lupin shook his head apologetically, and Pettigrew tittered.
“Nice work, Evans,” Black congratulated me, still surveying Potter. “I think blonde suits him.”
“Good,” I sniffed airily, wiping the water from my face.
Potter seemed to have finally recovered. “Aww, don’t be like that, Evans. It was only a joke.” He gave me a wry smile as he waved away a couple of remaining birds hovering by his head.
“Everything to you is a joke, Potter,” I growled, narrowing my emerald-colored eyes at him. “And just to let you know, I do not appreciate it at all.”
“Let’s not get the ladies mad now,” Black advised Potter, grinning at me.
Rolling my eyes, I started up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. Honestly. They were seventeen years old and still acted as though they were three. When would they grow up? I found myself wishing that the fulfiller of my desired sappy ending would come soon.
I found myself marching to the boys’ dormitories approximately three hours later, seething the whole way. It just figured that tonight was the night Potter and I were to conduct the Head Boy and Girl duties, patrolling the school. Evidently he had forgotten, but I prided myself on not forgetting anything. Ever.
Rapping on the door, I swept some hair from my eyes and waited for someone to open the door.
There was noise from the other side of the door. Black opened the door a crack, and seeing who it was, gave a little meep-like sound and snapped it shut. I was about to knock again when he re-opened the door, grinning broadly. His grey eyes were twinkling mischievously at me. “It’s you. Can’t get enough of Potter, can you?”
“Yeah. Right,” I retorted, though I could feel my face flushing in the effort of keeping cool. Okay, maybe I admit Sirius Black was a bit cheeky and funny in that way only he could pull off. But I needed to get the message across that his childish behavior was not tolerated by those more mature than him. “It’s more like right now is the time to do our appointed Head student duties.”
Black raised his eyebrows and wiggled them. “And what might those duties be, exactly, Evans?”
“Stop giving me a hard time,” I growled. “Potter!” I pushed through Black, who had been obstructing the door. My eyes instantly found James Potter, who was pulling a shirt over his bare chest.
I groaned and averted my eyes. Potter yelled and disappeared behind his four-poster. “What are you doing, changing when a girl is in your dormitory?” I demanded, trying to rid the image of Potter’s well-developed abdominals from my mind. One would be surprised that such a skinny figure could obtain such impressive muscles.
“Sirius, I told you to guard the door!” Potter complained loudly from behind the bed. I could only see the top of his head, which was covered in his ever-messy black hair.
Black sniggered. “Sorry, mate. It’s just that this girl is so dang headstrong. If she wants something, there’s no way to stop her.” He winked at me, and I glared at him. It seemed that I acted much more childish with this band of boys; they somehow seemed to unhinge that schoolgirl mindset. That is why I found myself glaring, prodding, and shooting snide remarks at them, which was not my nature otherwise.
“Potter, we have to do patrol the halls, if you remember,” I said in an exasperated voice. Why did Professor Dumbledore choose James Potter to be Head Boy, of all people? I had expected Remus Lupin to be chosen; that at least made sense, as he had been a prefect the year before. Shaking my head, I decided I would never understand the male mind.
“Yeah, I remembered.” Potter reappeared from his hiding spot. “Sorry, can’t let ickle Lily see me half clad,” he explained, completely unruffled now. He ran a hand through his hair, making it untidier, as I’m sure he had intended.
I tried to regain my composure and motioned towards the door. Potter turned to his friends. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he told them, saluting. Only Pettigrew saluted back. Lupin rolled his eyes and Black grinned.
“Sure you will,” Black jibed, winking.
“Don’t start, Padfoot,” Potter warned good-naturedly, taking a step towards his best friend.
I sighed and grasped Potter’s arm, nearly yanking him out the door. “Not now, Potter. We have things to do.”
Black took a hold of the doorknob. “Have fun, you two. And behave.”