The Stag and the Doe

Chapter Tweleve- "Can't Take the Heat? Then Get Out Of the Bloody Kitchen!"

Disclaimer: I don't own anything J. K.  Rowling writes or has made.

Chapter Twelve:"Can't take the heat? Then get out of the bloody kitchen!"

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Black, and Mr. Pettigrew!" Professor McGonagall reprimanded. The rest of the class, including Lily, turned to face the misbehaving boys. Black, Pettigrew, and Potter were fast asleep. Even the ever so studious Remus had trouble from keeping his eyes open. Then again, Remus always looked like he was seconds away from passing out.

The class watched with amusement as Black reacted first. His mane of black hair flew up as his head moved. His gray eyes were wide as he yelled, "I didn't do it!"

Professor McGonagall said, "I'm sure you did, Mr. Black." Pettigrew followed soon after with a fist imprinted on his cheek. His cheeks flamed as he stared at the floor.

Lily could hear the snickers of the class. McGonagall clucked her tongue disapprovingly and rounded onto Potter. "James Potter!"

He slouched back; his head was slightly tilted towards the desk. The only response was the quiet snores that he made.Though it was not exactly snoring, Lily determined. It was just his heavy breathing. His breath went in through his nose and out through his mouth. Lily found herself entranced with those simple movements. His boyish nose moved up and down and his glasses were dangerously close to falling off. His chest was rising and falling. His cheeks puffed in and out with each exhale. Potter's lips flared out after following his rosy cheeks.

Lips she had been snogging almost a week ago... Damn, she tried not to, she really did. However, the memories came anyway. The way he had backed her against the wall. The way taunted her, and the look he gave her. How his head steadily inched towards hers, and the way his eyes sparkled with amusement. They way he carefully caressed her. As if she would slip out of, his grasp any second, and so tenderly. Not like, she was delicate; more of a way that had made her feel special. Almost tenderly, polar opposite from the way he usually acted. He was mostly wild, rambunctious, and unpredictable, although the kiss was unpredictable. Lily could have never predetermined the reaction.

It was soft, tentative, like testing thin ice. It was fragile, cautious, as if the kiss was asking a deadly secret. However, what was that question? Did Lily fancy James? Was it possible to hate someone so strongly and yet, care for them at the same amount? The answer was on the tip of Lily's tongue. The only thing was whether the answer was yes or no?

Suddenly, images of James and her plagued her mind. Them, walking hand in hand throughout the corridors. Scenes of them rushing through Hogsmeade while snow beat heavily down on them, giggling. Lily's head on James lap as she read aloud a book as he contently played with her hair. Studying near the fire, he asks a stupid question, makes her shake her head and smile, and leans over and kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him...

Lily was brought out of her daydream by the sound of snickering. She saw a few students, including Black, noticing her openly gawking at James. The corners of the boy's lips tugged into a knowing smirk as he mouthed 'we all know you fancy the pants off of him'.

Her cheeks blazing, she was about to respond when Potter finally awakened. His eyelids fluttered open and his mouth opened into the perfect 'O' shape. He yawned loudly his arms stretching out as he leaned back. He rubbed his eyes causing his glasses to fall onto the desk and break.

"Ah hell!" James exclaimed.

Without his glasses, Lily could see the difference of his eyes. They are a brilliant mixture of brown and green, an abstract art. With a sigh, professor McGonagall took out her wand and tapped his broken glasses while muttering, "Repairo!"