A/N: It's been a work in progress since February, but it's finally here. I hope you all enjoy the first chapter of my newest Lily/James fic…

Disclaimer: I will only claim my own creativity on this one. JKR can have the rest.

Roughing It

Chapter 1: High

Knock, knock, knock.

My knuckles rapped gently against the wooden door. I waited for a few seconds before knocking louder. There was no answer. I sighed and let myself through the door. The hinges creaked unpleasantly and I cringed. For a Caretaker, Filch sure didn't do much care taking.

After wandering the perimeter of the room, I took a seat in one of the sturdy wooden chairs that sat in front of the massive, intricately carved desk. I checked my watch. Seven thirty. Maybe they'd already left?

Tapping my foot impatiently, I eyed the tin of biscuits on the desk in front of me hungrily. My stomach gave an involuntary gurgle, and my fingers itched towards the maroon and gold container for the umpteenth time. Merlin, I was hungry. The old grandfather clock in the corner nearest me chimed loudly. I almost fell out of my chair.

Once I had righted myself again, my eyes fell on the tin yet again. It seemed to be calling out to me. I glanced around nervously, looking for those glowing yellow eyes, and pointy ears. Seeing none, I reached tentatively toward the little box.

The door banged open just as the tip of my finger touched the cold metal. I retracted quickly, my hands folding in my lap.

"Where have you been?" I hissed at my fellow Head. "You were supposed to meet me twenty minutes ago!" He needn't know that I was fifteen minutes late myself.

James strode across the room, and plopped himself down in the chair next to mine. "Quidditch practice ran a little bit late, and I figured you wouldn't be too thrilled if I showed up in my practice jersey again," he answered with a knowing little smirk.

"Thank Merlin," I muttered, wrinkling my nose as I remembered the last time he'd come to a Prefect meeting covered in sweat and mud. The other girls in the room had been ecstatic, but being the one who had to sit next to him, I sent him back to the dorms to shower.

My stomach chose that time to give an enormous rumble.

James grinned, and held the cookie tin out to me. "Would you like a biscuit?" he asked, doing his best impression of the strict Transfiguration teacher.

I laughed quietly, and gratefully took a biscuit from the heart-shaped container. It was gone before I had the chance to taste it. I grabbed another, and inhaled that one too.

James was chuckling next to me. I smacked his arm as I reached out to take a third biscuit. "What? I'm hungry!" I insisted around a mouthful. "I skipped dinner to do my Potions essay."

His face paled. In comparison to his jet-black hair, he looked as white as a sheet. "Potions essay?" he squeaked, sounding more like Peter than any seventeen-year-old boy had a right to.

I nodded, and brushed my hands free of crumbs. "Twelve inches of parchment on the characteristics of the Erumpent horn. I added a bit on where to find them, and their disastrous effects for good measure." James looked ready to faint. "Just write big," I advised with a shrug. "I'll help you when we're done with this meeting."

James gave me a curious look, obviously wondering why I was being so kind to him, although it wasn't such an unusual occurrence as of late. In the past few months, we'd been forced together by our Head duties, and after a month or so, we fell into a comfortable rhythm of sorts. I helped him with Potions and he tutored me in Transfiguration. We even started calling each other by our "mother-given" names. Of course, I still wanted to punch him in the face at times, and at night when I'm helping him with his homework, he sometimes gets this longing look in his eyes when he looks at me. That's generally the point where I claim fatigue and escape to my dorm. But other than, we were getting along swell.

James breathed a sigh of relief. "Bloody hell. I think old Sluggy is trying to work us to death."

"He's not trying to murder us, James, only prepare us for our upcoming NEWTs," I pointed out.

"Upcoming? It's April, Lily. NEWTs are still almost two months away."

"And I expect you will be studying for them all of that time, am I correct, Mr. Potter?" McGonnagal said as she walked into her office, half an hour late.

James smiled sweetly at her. "Of course, Professor. You can only expect the best from me."

I had to cough to cover up the laugh that followed.

"Would you like a cough drop, Miss Evans?" the Transfiguration teacher asked politely.

"No, thank you, Professor. I've been fighting a cold for a while, actually," I replied smoothly.

James hastily moved to cover my awful lying skills. "You wanted to see us, Professor?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Potter. Sorry to keep you both waiting," she said, reaching for the box of biscuits. She pried off the lid and pursed her lips when all she found was a few crumbs. I smiled sheepishly. "It seems that Dumbledore has a…proposition."

Oh, Merlin.

James quirked an eyebrow at McGonnagal while I fiddled with the hem of my shirt. What was he going to propose? Knowing Dumbledore, it was either something completely ridiculous, or brilliant beyond words. One year he'd orchestrated a Prefect and professors Quidditch game. Although entertaining for the crowd, too many people students and teachers alike ended up in the hospital for the games to be continued.

"You're going camping!" McGonnagal announced in a falsely cheery voice. She was obviously trying to sound positive about this, but even she could see that it wasn't going to turn out particularly well in the best of cases.

James and I exchanged a wary glance. "Camping?" I repeated, hoping I had heard her wrong.

She nodded, still tight-lipped and disapproving.

"Us?" James asked, gesturing between the two of us. A hint of a smile was tugging at the corner of his lips. Git.

Professor McGonnagal smoothed the front of her robes and took a sip from the tea that sat in front of her. "Yes," she said slowly, bobbing her head. "You two will be there."

"And who else?" I demanded, suddenly getting impatient with her vague answers.

"It's a class trip."

"Which class?" James asked.

McGonnagal cleared her throat, and sat a little straighter. "The class of '77."

"The entire class?" James and I demanded in unison.

"Yes."

My jaw dropped to the floor, and this time, I really did topple over the back of the chair. I didn't even bother to get up; I lay on the floor, contemplating the many ways this trip will go wrong. The possibilities were endless: drowning in a lake, cutting off a hand when chopping firewood, getting mauled by bears, and Severus and James will most likely end up killing each other before the first day is over.

"Are you high?" James demanded, pushing his chair back as he stood.

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. As James pushed himself up, the chair tipped backwards. The front legs left the ground and seemed to balance on the back two for a moment before collapsing onto my body, effectively knocking the wind out of me.

The universe definitely had it out for me.

I let out a strangled cry as one of the wooden legs crushed my fingers, and pinned me to the ground.

James looked back when he heard my groan. "Oh, Christ. Lily! Are you all right?" He glanced down at my mangled set of fingers, and immediately looked away. "Bloody hell."

"Mr. Potter! Language!"

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was conscious that the Head of Gryffindor house was within earshot, but all the same, a near constant stream of obscenities flowed from my mouth. James muttered profuse apologies as he lifted the heavy chair from my body. In the process, his circular, wire-rimmed glasses fell from his nose and hit me in the eye. More swearing and apologies followed, but now, James couldn't see a thing.

McGonnagal stood behind her desk, trying futilely to overpower both of our voices with her own, but not bothering to help.

Once his glasses were back in place and the chair was fully removed, James helped me into my previously occupied chair, which had somehow remained on all four legs throughout the chaos. McGonnagal conjured up an icepack and set it on my fingers.

"An icepack? Her fingers are broken!" James exclaimed, gesturing to the icepack. "Can't you fix them?"

She gave James an exasperated, tight-lipped look as she tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk. "I'm the Transfiguration teacher, Mr. Potter. If Miss Evans would like her bones turned to needles, I'd be happy to oblige."

I shook my head exuberantly. "I quite like my bones the way they are, thanks."

James made to grab his wand, and I grasped his forearm tightly. "Really, James, I think I'll wait until Madam Pomfrey can help me," I assured him quickly. He'd never been the best with Charms.

He replaced his wand, slumped down in his chair, and mumbled something unintelligible. Professor McGonnagal smoothed the wild strands of hair back into their bun. "Now, where were we?"

"A class camping trip," I replied curtly, trying and failing to keep the doubt from my voice.

"Ah, yes, of course." She tapped a stack of parchment on the desk although they were perfectly lined up already. "It seems that Dumbledore thought this would be a good bonding experience for your class."

James snorted. "Brilliant."

Both McGonnagal and I ignored his sarcastic remark. "And does Professor Dumbledore think that after sitting around a campfire and roasting marshmallows for a few days, we'll all be the best of mates?"

She looked hesitant. "I believe that's what he is hoping for."

James leaned forward in his chair. "This isn't just about strengthening inter-house relationships, is it?"

McGonnagal looked down and began to straighten that same pile of papers again. She didn't say anything for a while. Finally, "It is true that Professor Dumbledore often has ulterior motives…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, half not wanting to hear the answer.

James's face darkened slightly, and he wore a scowl when he turned to explain to me. "Dumbledore "

"Professor," McGonnagal interjected.

"—Is hoping that a little bonding time between the Slytherins and the rest of us will help to convince them to join forces against Voldemort. But surely he must know that a class camping trip isn't going to change anything except perhaps make them hate us even more."

"It only takes one person to tip the scales," McGonnagal said in a confident sounding voice.

I thought about Snape, and how he admitted to joining the Death Eaters without ever having to say anything. Could he be the one to change things? I made a mental note to talk to him soon.

"But is this really safe?" I asked timidly. "Letting all of…them out into the wilderness? It would be much easier for the Death Eaters when we're all out in the open."

It was hardly safe to go walking around the castle at night anymore, especially being me. The Slytherins weren't too happy to find that two Gryffindors had been made Heads. Add a Mudblood and a Potter to the equation, and suddenly red targets were painted on our foreheads.

McGonnagal raised her chin defiantly. "There will be a teacher with you, of course. But I'm counting on the Heads to lead their class with the dignity and bravery I know they are capable of."

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. Was McGonnagal trying to butter us up? There were so many things wrong with that circumstance; my mind immediately rejected the idea.

"Who's the teacher?" James asked suddenly. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a grimace as he prepared himself for her answer.

"Professor Slughorn has volunteered himself."

"Sweet mother of Merlin," I muttered, rubbing my temples. Really, Universe, is this necessary? James glanced up at the ceiling as if he too was cursing whichever higher power was currently looking out for us.

Slughorn? The Head of the Slytherin house? Sod it all.

James and I stood numbly, making for the doorway without another word. This meeting had gone as bad as it could have. When we reached the door, McGonnagal called after us. What more could she possibly want? I turned wearily, thinking it couldn't get much worse.

"Oh, Evans, Potter? Just one more thing."

I gave her a sickly sweet smile. "Yes, Professor?"

"No magic."

James fell down the stairs.

A/N: So, if any of you read those updates I put on my profile, you'll know that this story has been a pain in the ass. I have to apologize, though, for the lateness. It's been six months since I last had a story out. Unbelievable. But anyway, I siriusly hope it was all worth it. I'm pretty optimistic so far. What do you think? Leave a review for me, please! Reviews are stimulants for my fingers! Thank you so very much!

Much Love,

Jessie