10 Things I Hate About You - Chapter 3
 
'Evans.'

Lily spun around, nursing her cheek. James Potter had 
terribly good aim, she had discovered, and she now 
sported a long scratch down her left cheek, due to 
having numerous sharp objects thrown at her. She was 
torn between going to Madame Pomfrey (but then she 
might be subjected to numerous 'cures') or, of course, 
she could just plan revenge on James to distract her 
attention from her cheek. 

Revenge sounded awfully appealing.

'What, Potter? And don't come too close or you might be 
badly injured- what am I saying? Come as close as you 
want.'

James stared at her, obviously wondering if she'd been 
to Madame Pomfrey. That nurse (who was actually quite 
new to the medical department) was insane. And now, 
possibly, Lily had joined her ranks. 

'I don't have fleas,' she snapped, getting sick of 
watching him stare at her. 

A new problem to watch out for, James thought ruefully. 
Just when he thought he understood girls, they go 
getting fleas. Ridiculous. 

'Yes, well, I figured that -girls don't get fleas, do they?'

Lily rolled her eyes impatiently. 'No, Potter. What d'you 
want?'

'Just a talk.'

'As in, talk and while we do that you hex me, or as in 
friendly conversation with no side effects involved? 
Because either way, I don't particularly want to talk to 
you, thankyou very much.'

'You don't?'

'No.'

'No?'

'Yes, Potter, no.'

'Is that yes or no?'

'Are you trying to make me go insane? Cause you're 
doing a very good job if it.'

'Oh, good. My aim in life.'

Lily flopped back into the squishy armchair she was 
seated in, blowing her hair off her face tiredly. James 
waited for her to speak. 

'I'm bored.' She said. 

'I have a joke for you then.'

Lily rolled her eyes, but waited for the joke. 

'Ask me if I'm an apple.' James said, already trying not 
to laugh. 

'Are you an apple?'

'No!' He lay back on his chair, cackling. 

'Lunacy,' Lily muttered. 

***

It was the Christmas holidays, and James and Sirius 
were lazing around in James's living room, sipping 
lemonade with James's Uncle Laurie. His uncle was 
pretty cool- he was great friends with James and Sirius 
and by far James's favourite relative. He was much more 
loved than James's aunt, whom James referred to as 
'Madame Monstrousness,' or, in more simple terms, 
'monster.' 

She was one scary aunt. 

'So, James, any ladies in your life?' 

Laurie was extremely interested in 'ladies,' as he often 
referred to them as (it was strange, a word like that in 
such a small, yet overly expressive vocabulary). And he 
was just as interested in everyone else's love lives as 
well as his own, even if the love life was non-existent 
(like his). 

'Nope,' James said listlessly, blowing a bubble. 

'Apart from Lily,' Sirius said cheerfully, half drunk on 
butterbeer- though he probably would have said that 
had he been sober. 

'Lily, eh?' 

James popped his bubble. 'Sirius is the one obsessed 
with Evans.'

'But James is infatuated with her.' 

'Sirius dreams of her,' James retorted, not at all happy 
at the way this conversation was turning out. Why 
couldn't they just have stuck with 'nope,' and then 
changed the topic of discussion to Quidditch, or 
something else exciting like that- and hopefully 
something far less embarrassing.

'James stares at her at breakfast,' Sirius said, sculling 
down yet another mug of butterbeer. He burped loudly.

James, having run out of insults (apart from rude ones, 
but his mother was in the next room and he wasn't 
going to resort to them) chose the more childish 
approach of defence. 'I do not!'

'Yes, you do.' Burp. 

James sighed loudly, and he blew another bubble. 

Laurie smiled, satisfied. Finally, some interesting gossip. 

'And what's this 'Lily'- or 'Evans' -I take it that's her last 
name?'

Sirius nodded, another loud burp (which smelt strangely 
like sausages) escaping his lips. 

'Yes, what's she like?'

James pulled a face, his bubble floating away. 'Horrible.'

Sirius rolled his eyes, dropping his mug on the ground. 

'She is gorgeous, I tell you, absolutely gorgeous...in a 
different kind of way.'

Laurie raised his eyebrows. 

'Is that so?' 

James slumped down onto the couch. 'She's alright, I 
s'pose.'

'But sadly, she's got the hots for Jamsie boy, so I 
thought it wrong to interfere,' Sirius said, somewhat 
seriously. 

James snorted. 'Last time you tried to interfere- not that 
there was anything to interfere with in the first place- 
she slapped you across the face.'

'Feisty, eh?' His uncle was having a great time. Now he 
just had to let slip to James's mother that her baby boy 
had a girlfriend and his life- or evening- would be 
complete. 

'Ferocious,' James muttered, remembering several more 
painful occasions. 

'I'll give you some advice, James my boy.'

'Thank God for Uncle Laurie,' James muttered, 
wondering if he'd be told to kiss her, send her love 
letters, or, worse- no, there wasn't any worse. 

'Just tell the girl you like her, you've got nothing to 
lose.'

'Except my nose...and my head...heck, Evans'd blow me 
apart if she had the chance.'

'Or you just kiss her,' Laurie countered, looking 
thoughtful. 

'Or not.'

***

Back at school, after Christmas, the Gryffindor Common 
room was once again full. The noise was terrible- the 
first years were a bit behind the times and they were all 
still singing Christmas carols, while the third years 
pelted them with whatever came out of their wands. 

The seventh years, once they'd calmed down everyone 
else (or, in Sirius's case, had joined in the fun) went 
back to studying for their NEWTS. They only had five 
months now, and while it seemed such a long time 
away, they all knew they had to know it all, and 
besides- there was nothing better to do...except blow up 
Filch's broom closet...or paint the Slytherin Dungeon 
scarlet and gold...so many possibilities, yet so little time. 
Well, it wasn't that there wasn't time- there was, there 
was just so much homework in between. 

James was poring over his notes on Charms, looking up 
every now and then to see what Lily was up to- except 
he had no idea he was doing it, though Sirius- being 
Sirius- was in stitches, just waiting for Lily notice. 

She didn't. 

Her long hair looked quite straggled, and James was 
sure she'd been studying far too much, but, as he hated 
her, he couldn't very well point this fact out. 

Lily yawned loudly, stacked her books up in a pile, and 
then stood up, her green eyes blurry. 

'Night.'

She walked slowly off to her dorm, robes trailing loosely 
around her shoulders. She didn't notice a small piece of 
paper fall out of her notebook, and neither did James- 
he was staring at her head- but Sirius (of course) did, 
and he planned on waiting until James had gone to bed 
to read it. Just in case it had some interesting 
information provided in it or something. 

After seven games of chess, the tiny piece of paper still 
lay on the ground, and Sirius was so exhausted from 
losing game after game- James was on a lucky winning 
streak- he'd forgotten all about the little piece of paper 
on the ground. 

Sirius yawned loudly, his head drooping onto the 
armrest of the chair. 

'Checkmate,' James said for the eighth time. 

No answer. 

'Sirius? Yoo hoo?'

Sirius snored loudly; something James was very grateful 
for, as he'd just sounded horribly like his grandmother. 

James rolled his eyes to the ceiling and packed the little 
chessmen away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a 
little folded piece of paper on the floor, standing out 
against the dark carpeted floor. 

He frowned and went over to pick it up, unfolded it and 
smoothed it out gently on his hands. 

It wasn't parchment- unless parchment had suddenly 
become a lot whiter and smoother- and James supposed 
it belonged to a muggle-born wizard.

He skimmed through the writing on it, his heart giving a 
tiny little leap when he saw the second last line. 

It was a poem. 

Quite a nice poem too, he thought, not that he'd ever 
really read much poetry before. 

***

James crept quietly up to the seventh year girl's dorm, 
praying to God that no girl would decide to go for a little 
midnight stroll. He hadn't quite mastered memory 
charms yet. He pushed open the door and winced as it 
creaked loudly on its hinges. He waited for screams of 
'intruder!' 

Nothing.

Well, snores. But apart from that, nothing. 

Now, which bed was Lily's? James couldn't remember, 
so he had to check each bed in turn- Lianne; it 
appeared, slept with a large stuffed crocodile. 

When he finally found Lily, she was lying on her back, a 
teddy tucked neatly under her arm. She looked so 
angelic. Completely unlike her normal self. In fact, she 
looked a lot like one of those paintings by Monet, or was 
it Renoir? Well, it was some dead french artist, and she 
looked like their paintings. James suddenly realised that 
Lily could awaken any second and he was thinking of 
french artists. 

Lily lay cosily in bed, not dreaming, just happy in the 
blissful warmth of sleep. 

She was not at all happy when someone shook her 
awake at two o'clock in the morning. 

'Evans...wake up.'

She blinked her eyes open, staring into the dark. She 
could see two little dots of light hovering in front of her, 
and she swiped at them. 

'Ow!'

'Potter?'

No, it can't be Potter. Why would he be in my dorm at 
this hour? 

'No shit, Sherlock. Ow...'

Oh God, where's my wand? 

'Stop moaning. Why the hell are you here?' She 
snapped, pulling up her blankets around her arms, 
which were chilly. 

James sniffed, pushing his glasses back up his nose- Lily 
guessed the glasses were what she'd swiped at. 

'Just thought I'd return something to you, before Sirius 
got his filthy paws on it.'

'Huh?'

James tossed the piece of paper at her, and it landed in 
her lap, a tiny scrunched up ball of paper. 

Lily stared at it. 

'What is it?'

'Well, I think it's yours. It's in your handwriting and your 
name is mentioned...' James trailed off. 

'What is it?' She repeated. 

'A poem.' He said simply, awaiting her reaction. 

She turned as white as a sheet. 

'Is it yours?' James said, when Lily didn't say anything. 

'How should I know, I haven't read it yet, have I?'

'So read it.'

Gingerly, she unfolded the paper and read the poem.

She opened her mouth to say something, decided 
nothing was appropriate, and instead slapped him. 

'Hey!' 

Lily crossed her arms across her chess, glaring at him 
furiously. 

'What was that for?' 

All intentions he had of being nice to her for once flew 
straight out of his head. She was a slimy little rat, even 
if she could write poetry. Besides, it wasn't even that 
good. 

'You deserved it,' she said through gritted teeth, the 
paper now a tiny ball in her clenched fist. 

'Hey, you left it out there, Evans, not me.'

'So. You didn't have to read it, did you?'

'Oh, so I was just supposed to look at it, know it was 
yours and return it to you?'

'That would have been fine with me.'

'I can't believe I even came here.'

'Neither can I, why don't you do us both a favour and 
leave?'

'Fine by me.' 

He got up to leave, casting one angry last at Lily before 
he did, and saw that she really did look like an angel.

Her long hair was falling over her shoulders in tumbles, 
the moonlight shining in through the window casting a 
funny kind of halo around her head, making the red 
glow. She wore only a short sleeved top and some 
shorts, and while she looked dangerously close to 
slapping him, all he wanted to do at that moment was 
crawl over and kiss her. 

He sat down again, landing on her knee, causing her to 
yell out loudly.

'Potter! GET LOST, WILL YOU?'

They both heard voices from the other occupants of the 
room, and the Lily stared at him in horror. 

'James, get under the bed!'

James blinked, and did a double take. 'James?'

'Dammit, Potter get under the bed!'

Well, we were almost on a first name basis for a 
moment there...

'Lily? Are you okay?'

'She's probably having nightmares about James Potter 
again,' came Jo's voice. 

James looked at Lily quizzically. 'You have nightmares 
about me?'

'Doesn't everybody?' She hissed. 

'Lily?'

Lily moaned something to herself, and she looked at 
James with wide green eyes. 'Quick, Potter, get under 
here.'

'Under where?'

'How is it that you get such good grades when you're so 
bloody dim witted?' She threw the blanket over his 
head, and crouched under to whisper something to him 
for a moment. 

'Stay here, don't move, don't say anything.'

He smiled charmingly at her. 

'Lily? Who are you talking to?'

Jo pulled the drapes back.

'Lil, are you okay?'

Lily emerged from under the covers. 'Fine! Just fine! 
How are you four?'

Her friends stared first at her, and then at the bed. The 
bed sounded almost as if it were giggling. 

'We're fine,' Jo said slowly. 'What's that?'

'What's what?'

'That lump right in the middle of your bed.'

'What lump?'

Lianne gave a frustrated sigh. 'That lump, idiot.' She 
pulled back the blanket and revealed James Potter, who 
grinned up at them all, his hair even worse than usual. 

Lianne gave a shriek and raced out the room, no doubt 
to tell the entire Gryffindor house that Lily Evans and 
James Potter were in bed together. The other two 
followed, while Jo looked at Lily to James, then back to 
Lily. 

'Um...'
Lily tossed the covers back over James and sat on him. 
'What lump?'

'Ouch.' Jo heard James's muffled groan. 

'Lil, maybe you should get off him...he might suffocate.'

'All the more reason to just sit here.'

James, however, had ideas of his own. He sat up, 
pushing Lily off the bed in the process. 'Hi, Jo.'

'Hullo, James. Night Lily.'

Jo followed the other three out the door, to hear what 
they'd been telling the sixth years. 

Lily sat back up on the bed, looking at James, her green 
eyes filled with something that could only be described 
as hatred. James looked innocently back at her, except 
something completely different was shadowed in his 
dark eyes. 

Lily looked away, now uncomfortably aware that she 
wore only her pyjamas. 

'Get lost, Potter.'

'Nah, I was thinking I might stay awhile.'

'What?'

'How come you hate me?'

'How come you hate me?'

'I asked first,' James said stubbornly. 

'I asked second.'

'Who ever said I hate you?' James said easily, lying back 
on her pillows. 

'Let's see...You've called me Evans almost my whole life, 
you're always insulting me, you're always trying to curse 
me,' Lily started ticking the different things off her 
fingers. 

'Okay, okay. But I haven't done anything like that 
recently, have I?'

'You've been on holidays.'

'But I still haven't done anything.'

Lily threw up her hands. 'You haven't had the chance!'

'So?'

Lily mouthed wordlessly. 'You are- you're- why were you 
here?'

James grinned. 'To give you back your poem.'

'I've got my poem now.'
'You do.'

'So you can leave.'

'I could,' James said slowly. 

Lily looked at James. He lay back on her bed, watching 
her, waiting her reaction curiously, and even she was 
surprised when she lay down besides him, staring at the 
canopy above her. 

'I hate you,' she muttered. 

'Good thing I never take your insults to heart.'

Lily turned over and buried her head in the soft pillow. 
'Leave me alone.'

James thought for a moment. 'Okay. Goodnight, Lily.'

He left, closing the door behind him quietly. 

Lily rolled back onto her back feeling inexplicably 
confused. Something tiny pricked her arm, and she 
raised her other arm to the spot automatically, feeling a 
tiny spot of blood. 'What on earth-'

A small red rose lay next to her, one of its thorns red 
from her blood. 

She wiped the blood away and felt a surge of anger rush 
over her, and in her fury she threw the rose across the 
room. It smashed into the wall, one of its petals drifting 
to the ground, the stem bent.

Without thinking, she climbed out of bed and picked it 
up, ignoring the thorns that were ripping her skin, 
cradling it her in her arms, one thought ringing through 
her mind.

He called me Lily. 

***

'Did he kiss you?'

'No.'

'Did you kiss him?'

'No...yuck.'

'Then why was he in bed with you?'

'He wasn't.'

'It was your bed, and he was in it.' Lianne explained, in 
case Lily had missed something. 

Lily put her head in her hands, sitting down on the steps 
abruptly, causing the students behind her to quickly 
either detour or trip over her and break their necks. 

'Because he's an idiot.'

'What one earth does that have to do with anything?'

'Everything,' Lily said dully. 

Lianne took a deep breath. 

'Do. You. Like. Him?'

'No.'

'Are you sure?'

'Yes.'

'Are you sure you're sure?'

'Yes.'

Lily turned away, and was completely oblivious when 
Lianne left, no doubt some sort of romantic rendezvous 
scenario running through her mind. She didn't see 
James sit behind her. 

'You're sure you're sure you're sure?' He asked 
teasingly. 

'Look. Potter is- he's-'

'In love with you?'

Lily snorted. 'No. I don't know what's wrong with him, 
come to think of it...I'd say he's been eating Madame 
Pomfrey's plants again.'

'Why's that?'

Lily shrugged and turned around. 

She suddenly felt extremely light-headed. 

'Potter?' She whispered weakly. 

'Hullo...why do you hate me?'

A million thoughts flew out her head. 'I don't remember.'

James smiled. He sat for a moment, deep in thought, 
while Lily silently screamed at herself. He grabbed her 
hand and dragged her into an empty classroom, pulling 
her close to him.

'What're you doing?'

He shrugged. 'I don't really know.'

Lily tried to struggle free, found she couldn't and glared 
at James, her green eyes full of resentment. 'Dammit, 
Potter...why d'you have to do this to me?'

'What do I do?'

'I don't know,' Lily said helplessly, as James pulled her 
even closer. 'You just-' he was so close she could feel his 
breath on her face. 'Make me go crazy...'

James cocked his head to one side. 'Crazy? As in, 
insane, or just kind of dizzy feeling, like you want to fall 
over?'

Lily saw the mischief in his eyes, saw that he knew 
exactly how she was feeling, opened her mouth to yell 
at him, and found that she couldn't because he was 
kissing her and she was so dizzy she couldn't pull away, 
and even if she hadn't been feeling dizzy, somehow she 
knew she wouldn't anyway. 


Professor McGonagall walked briskly along the corridor. 
Why was it that whenever you needed someone- or 
some people- they were nowhere to be found? She'd 
been looking for Potter and Evans all morning, though 
none of their friends had any clue where they were. 

She sighed. Potter was no doubt incredibly smart- it all 
just came naturally to him, but he was such a trouble, 
sometimes she wished she could just expel him and be 
done with it- though she knew she never would. It was a 
wonder his ego hadn't flown right through the roof, 
considering the amount of girls who threw themselves at 
him. She frowned, thinking of the rumours going around 
the school. Evans and Potter? It just didn't fit. Lily was 
as talented in James- maybe not as skilled in 
Transfiguration, but by the sounds of it she was genius 
in Charms. 

They were completely different, they hated each other. 

Evans, while she had a temper, was sweet, Potter was 
kind but a nuisance, Evans studied, Potter didn't. They 
were as different as black and white. 

Besides, James had so many girls falling over him he'd 
never choose Lily over them all, not when she'd rather 
throw a curse at his head then kiss him. No, the most 
likely reason she couldn't find them was because Potter 
had probably locked her up somewhere to torture her. 

Why did Dumbledore have to put them as Head boy and 
girl? Why? It just made more trouble. 

The professor was snapped out of her problems when 
she heard a thump from a nearby classroom. 

A ha. 

She stepped through the doorway, and opened her 
mouth in shock. Obviously, Evans was either under the 
influence of a love potion or she didn't hate Potter as 
much as she said. 

Neither teenager notice their Transfiguration teacher 
staring at them with horror- she was too surprised to 
speak. 

The thump had most likely been the chair, which was 
now on the ground falling over, or Evans' shoe, but it 
probably wouldn't have made such a loud noise. The two 
of them didn't seem to want to let go of each other- 
Lily's knuckles were white, her hands gripping onto 
James's robes, and it looked as though they were only 
breathing when it became urgent for oxygen. 
McGonagall was surprised more furniture wasn't broken- 
they were most definitely not standing still, it was more 
like they were spinning around in a circle, Lily standing 
on her tip toes so she could actually reach James's lips. 

It would have all been very romantic had they not been 
her pupils, not to mention her head students- imagine if 
one of the first years had walked in on this, they'd have 
been corrupted for life. 

She cleared her throat.

Lily leapt away from James like he was poison, breathing 
hard, her cheeks very pink. 

James turned around slowly, looking much like Lily did. 

They looked at Professor McGonagall sheepishly. 

'Dumbledore's office. Now.'

'But-'

'We didn't-'

'I will speak to you both about this incident later. The 
headmaster wants to speak to you about something.'

They breathed identical sighs of relief and left the room, 
avoiding the professor's glare. 

Potter and Evans...next Pettigrew would manage to work 
a spell, just to completely stop her poor heart. 

***

A few mornings later at breakfast, James's owl brought 
him a letter. On the envelope it simply said James, but 
the writing was familiar, and he glanced at Lily. 

She gave him a tiny smile and then looked away quickly 
before Lianne could accuse her of staring. 

He opened he envelope and a piece of paper fell out, 
folded numerous times. 

On the top fold it said open this later (or else).

James shrugged, shoved it in his pocket and left after 
telling Sirius he just had to get something from the 
common room. 

Lily watched him leave and followed him silently outside 
into the snow. 

James sat underneath a tree and unfolded the 
parchment. It was another poem, this time written in 
emerald ink which still looked as though it was wet, 
shimmering in the cold sunlight. 

 
James-
You said you like my poetry
 
10 Things I Hate About You
I hate the way you tease me
They way you brush your hair
I hate the way you mock me
And how you're always there
I hate the way you laugh at me
I hate your big brown eyes
I hate the way I'm so confused
I hate it when you make me cry
I hate the way you fool about
Like you're never gonna fall
But most of all
I hate the way I don't hate you
Not even a little bit
Not at all

Okay. Well, that might be the last part- unless all you 
peoples really, really want more. I'm on holidays now, 
so you'll probably be seeing more of me (he he he). 
Hope this was okay- it didn't quite turn out the way I 
wanted it to. 

Thanks to my lovely Beta reader, Eve/Tanager, 
whatever she wants to call herself- if there are any 
mistakes, blame her. Muahahaha. *grins*

Nothing's mine.