Lily Evans was so completely totally displeased that it was nearly beyond comprehension. And, unsurprisingly, there was one easy to pinpoint source of her misery.

James Potter.

"Potter, what the hell do you think you are doing?" she hissed, and kicked him in the ankle.

"Ow! Damn it, Evans, what was that for?"

"Three guesses, you prat, and the first two don't count."

James sighed, and ran his hand through his hair. "Okay, sorry, it was Sirius's idea and I guess it didn't exactly turn out right-"

"You kidnapped me." Lily's eyes were crackling with indignant fury, and it looked like any minute a bolt of electricity could shoot out of her eyes and vaporize the boy standing next to her.

"Uh...yes. Sorry."

"Sorry doesn't cut it." Lily smiled, but her face looked more homicidal than happy. "Want to let me go now?"

"No. Not really."

She narrowed her eyes, and flicked her foot upwards in an odd twisting motion. Her wand flew out of the leg of her jeans, and she snatched it out of the air, then leveled it coolly at the Potter boy's neck. "Changed your mind yet?" she asked cockily, snapping the string binding her wrists together with absolutely no effort.

He just gulped.

"That's what I thought." Lily responded smugly. "God, I love winning!" And with that, she shoved James into the wall.

Where he promptly disappeared.

Lily blinked. "Uh...what?" She heard a faint squeal coming from the innocuously blank stretch of stone. "You okay in there?"

She heard a girls voice say, "Oh sweet Merlin!"; she heard a male voice that was decidedly not that of her nemesis swear bitterly; and heard James say something, very pathetically, murmer "Ouch."

That was it.

She was going in.

Ginny Weasley was so completely and utterly contented she couldn't even believe that it was her life she was living. The Saturday afternoon was raining heavily, with flashes of lightning...

But not even that could dent her mood. She was sitting comfortably on her favorite couch in the Gryffindor common room. She'd finished her Potions essay. And, best of all, Harry Potter had his arm around her. Yes, today was a good day.

"Ginny?" Harry muttered into her ear. She smiled and turned to look at him.

"Yes?" she replied.

"I'm bored." he said languidly, but the glint in his eyes signified something else. "Want to go take a walk with me?"

Ginny smirked. "But it's raining outside. I don't want to get wet, silly!"

Harry sighed dramatically. "I suppose we could just walk around a few corridors. They're bound to be fairly empty at this time of the day. So, what do you say, love?"

Ginny appeared to be mulling the decision over carefully. "Well, I suppose I could go."

"Fine, then. It's settled." Harry stood up and stretched, his shoulders popping as he rolled them behind his head.

Ron snorted. "I know what you're doing, guys."

Ginny widened her eyes in a most impressive act of feigned innocence. It had never worked on Ron, but she'd pulled more than a few successful heists over on her father because of her acting skills. You'd think that after the twins he would have gained a significant ability to detect lies but Ginny figured it was a girl thing. Everyone doted on her because she was both the baby of the family (a perpetual source of excuses and opportunities to be spoiled by relatives) and the only girl in the family for generations. In short, nobody knew anything about how to deal with teenage girls except her mother and Ginny was intelligent enough to never even entertain the thought of attempting to pull a heist on Molly Weasley. No, Ginny was a bit spacey sometimes and certainly wasn't a straight O student (straight E's and A's she could do) but she was far from a moron. She was damn good at combat magic to go along with that, too, but that wasn't the point.

The important thing here was that even though her most innocent look wouldn't gain any cred with her youngest older brother, he'd finally eased up on her and Harry's relationship. Ever since he'd hooked up with Hermione at the final battle a little less than a year ago, Ron had really cut the two of them more slack. He'd still chop Harry into little tiny pieces if the eighteen-year-old savior so much as contemplated harming a hair on Ginny's head, but since the two had been cultivating a solid relationship ever since Voldemort was gone for good, she had nothing to worry about.

And so Ron rolled his eyes, returned to his conversation with Hermione and Neville, and so Harry and Ginny ambled out the portrait hole, arms wrapped around each other.

"So..." Ginny purred as soon as they were a few floors away from the common room. "Why did you want to come out here again?"

Harry didn't even deign that comment with a reply; he simply found the simplest and most entertaining way to cut off her air supply and keep Ginny quiet for a few minutes.

In fact, they were standing in the middle of the corridor for quite a while, completely occupied with each other, until Ginny felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She disentangled herself from Harry and turned around, slightly aggravated to have had such a delightful experience interrupted.

"Yes?" she seethed.

But there was nobody there. "Wha....." she said, confused, and then somebody tugged on her robes.

"Hey!" she shrieked, but looked down and found the source of her displeasure. It was easy to pinpoint: a third year Ravenclaw girl. She looked, however, tiny enough to be in the third grade and thin enough to slip between the stones of the Hogwarts hallway. "What is it?" Ginny rolled her eyes.

The girl wrinkled her nose. "I hate to be rude, but can you guys please take that somewhere else? You're making me nauseous."

Harry flushed. "Sorry." he mumbled, but Ginny saw the hint of a smirk twitching around the edges of his mouth. "We'll just slip into this room over here."

He cracked open the door, tugged Ginny in behind him, and with not even a look around the room the two began snogging instantly and rather deeply.

Ginny heard someone drop something behind her. Breaking contact for a few seconds, she peeped over Harry's shoulder...

...And met the eyes of one Minerva McGonagall.

"Oh, sweet Merlin!" she said, and shoved Harry off her. He turned around, saw his former head of house and current headmistress standing there with a disapproving look on her face, and swore bitterly.

"Mr. Potter!" she scolded, but her eyes looked softer and more amused than usual. In fact, she went so far as to wink at them and walk out the door, leaving the couple blissfully alone.

For a few seconds, that is. Because immediately after the aging woman exited the room, a boy slightly younger than Harry but looking practically identical to him toppled through the opposite wall and fell onto the classroom floor with a thump, whacking his head on a desk as he fell.

For a few seconds he just lay there pathetically, and Harry and Ginny just stood there staring at him, then he sat up, rubbed the back of his head, and said loudly, "OUCH!"

There was dead silence for a few seconds. Ginny was perplexed, but Harry's heart was racing as he wondered if it might possibly be who he thought it was.

And then someone else came through the wall (though with considerably more grace) and Harry's heart skipped a beat or seven.

Yes, Lily Evans (and there was no doubt in anyone's mind of her identity, the name on her Head Girl badge made that clear enough) was standing right there, in the flesh, her red hair tumbling around her shoulders, her legendary green eyes flashing curiously as she assessed the situation in this room.

Yes, Lily Evans was here, and judging by her stance (feet planted wide, head turned, arms crossed across chest) she was PISSED.

Ginny was apprehensive (and confused).

Harry couldn't feel anything but shock and then delight and then nothing at all as he passed out.