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James Potter is every wizarding mother’s dream for her daughter. Tall, handsome, intelligent, athletic, charming, and from a good, rich, Pureblood family. Most of these mothers have made a point of drilling into their daughters’ minds from an early age that they should capture a boy like him, to which most of these daughters reply with a dreamy sigh.
Lily Evans’s mother has no relationship at all with the wizarding world. This means that Lily Evans has been free to form her own opinion of James Potter, and, as it happens, this opinion is heaps different than the aforementioned mothers’ one. Namely, Lily Evans believes that James Potter can only be charming when using his wand accordingly. She would much rather describe him as a filthy hypocrite, the kind that opens the door for you, casts you a Trip Jinx when your back is turned, and then rushes to help you up while he blames the unfortunate second-year who happens to be standing nearby.
She has made her opinion of him clear, to his face, several times throughout the almost six years they’ve spent together at Hogwarts. He has mostly ignored her comments.
He much prefers to bask in the admiration their other classmates generously offer him. The boys are his faithful followers, and the girls his adoring public. He doesn’t even have to try. Merely by existing, he garners everyone’s interest and attention; they are given freely to him, and he owes nothing to no one. Lily, however, is certain that were all the attention to his person to be removed, it would upset him to no end and would probably lead him to do whatever it cost to gain it back.
As it is, the fact that she is probably the only Gryffindor who deviates from the norm has never seemed to faze him. In fact, as he told her once, “this should be your problem, not mine.” Logically speaking, he’s right; except that she doesn’t have a problem with not liking him. She hasn’t been brainwashed into liking him and he definitely has never done anything to deserve being liked by her. The situation is clear as crystal.
**
During Potions class, Lily works with speed and diligence. She sits alone at her desk and she’s always the first to finish, which usually gives her ample opportunity to observe everyone else’s efforts.
James Potter sits in the far back and works with the ease of the person who has mastered the art of achieving the best possible result with the least possible effort. Next to him, Sirius Black, looking bored as always, half-heartedly throws ingredients in his cauldron and pretends to be stirring. At the nearby desk, Remus Lupin works slowly, reading the instructions very closely and frowning at his cauldron every so often, and Peter Pettigrew flails frantically as his cauldron spits smoke and fire at random intervals.
Professor Slughorn approaches them after a while to view their progress. First, he stops in front of Sirius Black and stirs the contents of the cauldron a little, nodding with a bit of disappointment.
“Again, my dear boy. Your potion does what it’s supposed to be doing, but why don’t you pay a little more attention to how it looks? It hasn’t blended well. You need to stir more and at a slightly lower temperature. This is very hasty and won’t last long in storage.”
“Yes, sir.”
Professor Slughorn sighs. He knows Sirius Black can do better – his exam performance is always impeccable. But there is no convincing him to work more, or more systematically, when he has managed to prove wrong, time and again, one of the fundamental mottos of potion-making: ‘If it looks wrong, it is wrong.’ He has an unorthodox intuition for potions that defies all the rules, and his reply to every attempt to put him in the standard potion-making box is a simple, “Yes, sir,” which translates as, “You might as well be talking to the wall.”
Professor Slughorn then examines Potter’s potion. Unlike his friend, James Potter is very straightforward in his work; a few quick moves and there you go. His potions are always flawless, although Lily observes with a hint of self-importance that they lack the personal touch. It’s the quality of a good potion-maker to be able to create a potion that looks like it’s supposed to, smells as it’s supposed to, works as it’s supposed to, and still carries a faint distinctive touch that separates it from the work of others. James Potter is not a real potion-maker; merely a good recipe-executioner.
Perhaps that’s why Professor Slughorn has never cared to invite him to the Slug Club. For all his talents and achievements, James Potter looks like there’s nothing particularly special about him. And Horace Slughorn is the kind of person who looks for a certain something, something very distinguishing, in the people he chooses to befriend. A typical overachiever is worth nothing more than a brief mention in his book.
After Lily gathers her typical praise shower from Professor Slughorn, which she accepts with a gracious smile that is trying hard not to be smug, she packs her bag and leaves the classroom. She is aware of Severus Snape’s eyes on her as she does, but she has not spoken to him in almost a year and does not intend to do so now.
She heads to the Gryffindor Tower, her mind lost in self-absorbed thoughts of superiority in potion-making and overall excellence that all teachers can’t help but notice.
**
On Saturday, it’s the Quidditch final: Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. Ravenclaw makes a solid effort, but Gryffindor’s team is unbeatable this year. The match ends 320-150 after three nerve-wracking hours, and Gryffindor are named the year’s champions.
A flood of Gryffindors rushes to the field after the match is over to congratulate the team. Big hugs and triumphant cries overwhelm the players. Nobody seems to notice Lynette Dink, the petite second-year Chaser, standing in the middle of the crowd, her eyes red and her hands trembling; nobody but one person.
“People, people.” James Potter’s voice towers over all the noise and the crowd falls silent as the Gryffindor captain addresses it. “Move over.”
He makes his way to her and puts his arm around her shoulder. She’s breathing heavily, and she leans on him as if her legs were about to give way.
“Calm down,” he tells her. “Breathe. You played well. It’s over.”
She tries to speak, but words aren’t coming out.
“Quiet. You people,” he then addresses the crowd, which is watching silently. “We will celebrate outside, by the lake. The weather is great for it. Leave the common room and the dormitories for those who want to rest.”
The crowd collectively nods and starts to scatter little by little.
“You need some peace and quiet,” he tells her. “I’ll take you upstairs. Will you be all right on your own? Where are your friends?”
“Back there.” She points to where two girls, as petite and timid as she is, are standing on tiptoes behind the rest of the crowd.
He motions to them. “We’re all going up. Come on.”
**
Lily has watched the whole exchange. Everyone would have thought of her as just another curious bystander.
As James Potter and the girls leave, she remains in place, in silent admiration of his way with people. The whole of Gryffindor obeys his word, and it’s not just because he’s the team captain. In fact, the correct expression might be that he’s the team captain because the whole of Gryffindor obeys his word.
He cares about his people and he steps up to protect them. And he has the ability to do it. She has always seen it happen, but it’s the first time she really, consciously, notices it.
For the first time, she doesn’t want to blame him for favoritism or for having ulterior motives behind his supposed civility. She could, but she won’t. Because she has seen earnest interest behind the way he treated the younger girl. It’s not just the captain taking care of his underling, or making sure she will be all right for the next game. It’s the decent person who looks out for the weak when they can’t take care of themselves.
She had never thought there would come a day when she would call James Potter “decent”.
She should have given him more credit, she thinks. And she vows to pay closer attention to him from now on.
**
Having had this epiphany, it comes as no shock to her to see him in the prefect carriage on the first of September. He is sprawled across two seats as though he owns the train, which comes as no shock to her either.
Upon seeing her, he sits up, scoots aside and pats the empty seat as a way of inviting her to sit. She decides to accept it.
“All right, Evans? Had a good holiday?”
“Sure,” she replies noncommittally. For some reason, she has always felt wary about James Potter knowing stuff about her. She has always thought of him as the kind of person who will use what he knows against her, and she doesn’t like anyone having that kind of power over her.
“I was sure you’d be Head Girl this year.”
She nods. Even though there’s nothing in his tone to suggest it, she understands it’s meant to be a compliment, and she takes it as such.
He leans back on the seat and stretches his arms. “Can’t say the same about me, can you,” he adds with a sly smile.
“I’m not completely surprised,” she admits. She is aware that his right arm is casually resting on the back of her seat, and she leans slightly forward to put some space between them, resting with her elbows on her knees and her chin on the back of her palms. Stray strands of red hair fall in front of her eyes, but she makes no effort to brush them back, instead looking at him through them. “But do you even know what you’re supposed to be doing here?”
“Of course,” he says smugly. “I read the letter. Enforce the rules of the school and set a good example for the students.”
“Do you know the rules?”
He pushes his glasses to the back of his nose. “You have to know the rules to break the rules.”
She smiles in defeat.
The train starts to move, and one by one the younger prefects join them. He greets several of them with a high-five; she waves and smiles at everyone.
When everyone is there and the pleasantries are finished, the both of them start with the typical briefing; minutes later, they are interrupted by the cart lady.
Lily starts telling her to come back later, but James Potter jumps from his seat and approaches her; he speaks to her in a low voice for a minute, and then comes back to continue with the briefing as if nothing has happened.
When the briefing is over and the prefects scatter in the different compartments, they each find an assortment of sweets and snacks in their seat. Lily becomes aware of it much later, after she strikes a chat with a few fifth-years, who think it's a standard perk of being a prefect.
Lily knows it isn't.
**
When they arrive at Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall takes the two of them aside and leads them to a small office on the first floor. There is a large desk with two chairs on opposite sides, and the walls are lined with drawers and bookcases. There is a window in the back wall, covered by heavy plum-coloured curtains, and a large clock hangs over the door.
“This is the Head Office,” she explains. “Everything you need for your Head duties can be found here, including instructions, schedules, and passwords.” She points at a noticeboard next to the door. “You will find updates on your duties here daily. You can also leave your notes and questions for me on the board, and I will respond within the day.”
“Yes, Professor.”
“I will give you five minutes to familiarise yourself with the office, and afterwards I expect you at the Great Hall for the Sorting.”
“Yes, Professor.”
She leaves, closing the door behind her. James Potter starts poring over the books and folders on the shelves and going through the drawers, despite all of them being clearly labelled.
“Did you buy all those snacks for everyone on the train?” Lily asks.
He looks up at her. “I didn't steal them, if that's what you're implying.”
“No, of course not. I mean, I didn't see you pay for them, and yet you must have, because no one else did.”
“I charmed the cart lady into giving them out for free with my smooth persuasion skills and dashing good looks.”
Lily raises an eyebrow in incredulity.
“Fine, I paid for them.”
“We should split the cost, then.”
“Absolutely not. I don't take money from ladies.”
“I'm not a lady; we're partners.”
“You're my partner and a lady, and you're not paying for something that was my own decision.”
He turns his back to her and continues to peruse the open drawer, as if to signal the conversation has ended for him.
Lily sighs in defeat and starts to study the noticeboard, even though there's only one small note with the school year and their names on it.
**
The school year starts rolling smoothly. Lily enjoys life in the castle, from the classes and her Head Girl duties to spending time with her friends – even though she doesn't have many of them, because she finds most girls in the school vapid, unintelligent and too obsessed with James Potter.
Her best friend is Annie Grant, a sixth-year Gryffindor who plays Quidditch, and as such does hold him in high regard, but doesn't want to snog him, and that's a point in her favour.
“How was practice?” she asks her during dinner, after the first practice of the season.
“Fantastic,” Annie enthuses. “We got new broomsticks!”
“Really? Cool!”
“Yes! McGonagall said they are our reward for winning the Cup last year. They are school property, of course, but we'll be able to use them for both practice and the games.”
“So they're better than yours?”
“By far! They are the latest model. Only James owns such a broomstick.”
Lily's gaze flies to James Potter. He is sitting at the other side of the table, sufficiently far away from her, and he's conversing lively with some boys from the Quidditch team. A suspicion enters her mind, and she wonders whether it's worth investigating.
**
Since she runs into him the next morning in the Head Office, she decides to go for it.
“Congratulations on your new broomsticks,” she says.
“Oh, thanks,” he replies indifferently, his eyes fixed on the noticeboard.
“I wonder who paid for them.”
“They were an anonymous donation.”
“Seems like we're getting many of them lately.”
He finally turns his head around and stares at her over his shoulder. She stares back.
“Aren't you a nosy one, Evans,” he says, pushing his glasses to the back of his nose.
He turns away from her again, and her suspicion has just been confirmed.
**
For their next Transfiguration lesson, Professor McGonagall takes the seventh-year students out to the grounds and has them try to Transfigure the Hogwarts carriages into pumpkins. It's a difficult feat that takes skill, concentration and time. Lily does manage to Transfigure hers after a while.
In the meantime, James Potter has already turned four carriages into pumpkins of various shapes and sizes, and also their corresponding Thestrals into mice – very visible ones, too, even to her who can't see the Thestrals.
“Good, you're showing off again,” Lily says to him without making eye contact, but if side-eyeing had a tone of voice, it would be exactly the one she uses. “I was starting to get worried.”
“When did I not show off?” he asks, amused.
“Yesterday. You were being anonymous and I was being nosy.”
His eyes dart left and right in alarm, then, certain no one is watching them, he approaches her and speaks in a low voice, close to her ear.
“Money is nothing to brag about. You'll see me show off again when we all play on the same broomsticks and I'm still the best.”
He walks away, and she can't help the smile creeping up her lips.
She has to admit, she likes his priorities, and they somehow make his overconfident attitude seem well-deserved now.
**
It turns out that this year, not only will Lily be seeing James Potter every morning at the Head Office, but he will also be haunting her sleep. Because when she walks into the dormitory, Celeste Diamond, who occupies the bed next to hers, has plastered a photo of him over her nightstand.
“Sweet Merlin,” Lily mutters with a roll of her eyes. “Where did you get that?”
“This month's Social Digest,” Celeste answers, apparently very pleased with herself. “It was a photo of him, his parents and the award.”
“What award?”
“The Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers' Lifetime Achievement Award that his father just got,” Vivian Cobbleworth throws at her with disdain from the corner of the room. She has never liked Lily, because she's a better student than her, and she never misses an opportunity to rub information on her face when she can. “And you're supposed to be the best of our year at Potions.”
“At Potions, not gossip.”
“You never keep up with what happens in our society,” Celeste points out. “People like you are the reason some say Muggleborns don't belong with wizards.”
Vivian gasps, and Lily's expression hardens. Celeste's face goes white, and she tries to rectify her words.
“I mean...”
“Just shut up,” Lily spits at her and pointedly turns her back to her.
Celeste silently mouths at Vivian that she didn't mean it that way, but Vivian only answers with a shushing finger on her lips. She knows better than to let her friend tamper with Lily Evans's anger.
**
Some days later, it's the full moon, and the following morning, Remus Lupin appears at the breakfast table worn out and exhausted. By now, there's no doubt in Lily's mind that he's a werewolf.
What she notices for the first time, however, is that James Potter, next to him, is looking quite tired himself. His eyes are red, he's unusually silent and his movements are slow as though he has trouble concentrating.
She speaks to him later in the Head Office, where he appears late and mumbles his goodmornings with much less cheer than usual.
“Rough night?” she asks.
He nods. “Remus was sick. I stayed up all night to keep him company.”
Lily raises an eyebrow at him. Either this is the most blatant lie in the history of lies, or James Potter is that much of a risky idiot.
“You're lying.” She picks the first option.
“Why would I?”
“You can't have been with him. It would have been too dangerous.”
A spark of realisation passes through his bloodshot eyes, but his features quickly harden. “I'm not like most people. I don't abandon my friends.”
She is momentarily stunned by his answer; satisfied with her silence, he turns his back to her to look at the noticeboard.
Lily blinks, contemplating his words, and she briefly wonders if he's a werewolf too. But that would be too extreme, she decides.
He's probably just that much of a risky idiot, to put his friend's well-being over his own.
No wonder Remus Lupin adores him. Lily knows from experience that such selfless, loyal friends are hard to find.
**
Lily ends up subscribing to Social Digest, Witch Weekly, and a few more magazines, in order to never let anyone have a reason to look down on her ever again.
She receives the issue that Celeste had already got, which includes a report of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers' annual function, complete with several photographs, and a detailed article on James Potter's father and his career.
She had never known that he comes from a family with a long tradition in potion-making, that he is the inventor of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, or that he is currently the third richest wizard in Britain. It does all sound like information that should have reached her ears somehow.
However, all she has learned about James Potter she has learned against her will, either by others gossiping about him or by him bragging. The gossips apparently consider this information too common knowledge to discuss, and he, interestingly enough, never cares to brag about it. He much rather likes to brag about his own talents and accomplishments, of which, admittedly, there is no shortage.
She thinks back to the way he spends money on other people; on snacks for the prefects, or on broomsticks for the Gryffindor team. All done so discreetly, so in contrast with his usual show-off persona. Once again, it becomes clear to her that there's more to James Potter than meets the eye.
She glances up from her magazine. James Potter is standing over Peter Pettigrew's shoulder, who sits on a table with his Potions homework in front of him. He's explaining, slowly, patiently, in great detail, and Pettigrew listens to him, quill in hand to fix his mistakes. Across the table, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are playing Exploding Snap, their hands black with the soot of the self-combusting cards.
“Gotcha!” Black exclaims loudly, throwing a card on Lupin’s pile; it explodes with a loud crackle and a puff of smoke. He turns to Potter and Pettigrew. “Done yet?”
“Still three inches to go,” James Potter replies.
“Three inches in Wormtail’s handwriting will take you all night.”
James Potter throws a warning look at Black, who raises his arms in surrender and returns to his game.
He was telling the truth; he doesn't abandon his friends. And however insignificant this may seem to an outsider, the gratitude in Pettigrew’s eyes speaks volumes.
**
One day, during lunch, Professor McGonagall approaches the Gryffindor table.
“Potter, Black,” she addresses the two black-haired boys sitting next to each other. “Come with me, please.”
They follow her outside the Great Hall. Lily does not see either of them for the rest of the day.
When she still doesn't see them the next day, however, she starts to wonder where they are, and whether they finally got expelled.
She ends up asking Remus Lupin after first period is over. He seems to hesitate at first, but he reveals the truth to her.
“James's mother died. They were given the rest of the week off classes to mourn and attend the funeral.”
The news hits Lily like a pile of bricks, and she suddenly feels terribly ashamed for even having thought they might have been expelled. “I'm sorry,” she manages.
“Yeah, me too. She was a very sweet woman.”
**
She eventually sees James Potter again on Sunday evening. He's sitting alone in the common room, which is almost empty as by now most students have retired to the bedrooms, and he's going through rolls of parchment that Lily guesses are notes from the week's classes.
“Hey,” she says, approaching him.
He looks up at her.
“I heard about your mother. I'm sorry.”
He gives her a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes; they are glistening with sorrow. “She was old,” he simply says.
“Was she sick?”
“No. Her heart just gave out.” He shrugs. “She didn't suffer.”
“That's some comfort, at least.”
He nods.
“If you need anything, let me know.” She knows he needs someone to tell him this; and she somehow feels he'd tell her the same.
He nods again, and the small smile reappears. “Thanks.”
“Maybe some help with homework?” she asks pleasantly, gesturing towards the parchment in his hands.
His smile broadens and becomes more genuine. “I'll catch up.”
“All right.” She smiles back at him. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
She doesn’t catch the interested way his gaze follows her as she turns her back to him and heads upstairs.
**
From that day onwards, James Potter seems a changed man. His tendencies to prank people had already greatly diminished from the moment he had been named Head Boy; but now he's also silent, serious, almost melancholy. His laughter does not reverberate across the common room and his cheeky comments no longer interrupt the class, and Lily finds she almost misses them.
On the contrary, his friend Sirius Black has become doubly irritating now. Lily isn't certain whether it's the contrast between them that gives out this impression, or he is actively compensating for his friend's sobriety. His usual bitter, scathing remarks now hang in the air unanswered and the pranks he thinks up are more violent than funny.
James Potter is usually next to him, shaking his head, maybe grasping his arm as a signal that he's gone too far, but not speaking up or stopping him. Lily wants to give him the chance to set his friend straight, but he's not taking it, and Sirius Black ends up in detention after detention, from which he comes out with no visible signs of remorse.
Her patience reaches its end when she catches him in a corridor torturing a third-year Slytherin.
She runs to the fourth floor after hearing a blood-curdling scream; and she finds Sirius Black standing across the hall, wand in hand, a twisted smile in his face, while the Slytherin boy is trembling in the middle of the room, surrounded by snakes.
“Make it stop,” the boy pleads, between tears.
“Why? I thought you Slytherins liked snakes.”
Black casts a spell; it makes the boy's knees go wobbly, and he collapses between the snakes, screaming.
Furious, Lily steps forward, wand arm raised, but at that moment James Potter comes running from the other side of the corridor, right behind Black.
“What are you doing!” he calls. “Stop!” He makes the snakes Vanish with a swift move, and then pulls Black in a tight embrace. “Stop. It's not his fault. It's no one's fault.”
Black's wicked expression softens; he starts to gasp, and tears start flowing down his face. Lily has never seen him cry before, and it disturbs her in a way the boy's screams didn't.
“I know,” James Potter is murmuring against his friend's shoulder. Black has dropped his arms and his wet gaze has become distant, as if he's not really there.
Lily shakes herself out of the shock and focuses on the younger boy. She kneels near him. “Are you all right?”
He nods, sniffling, and with her help scrambles back on his feet. He throws a terrified look at Black and flees, without a word.
Lily looks at the hugging duo, her expression troubled. As though he has felt her eyes on him, James Potter turns his head around to look at her.
“Go,” he says softly. “I'll explain later.”
**
Lily goes to the Head Office and waits, alternating between nervously pacing around and plopping down on her chair with a huff. When James Potter arrives, he finds her sitting down, elbows on the desk, fingers on her temples; a headache is starting to form.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
She refuses to answer; she only folds her arms on the desk and waits. He closes the door behind him and approaches the desk, without sitting; instead he leans with his palms on the desk, head lowered between his shoulders, and he looks at Lily.
“Do you know that Sirius has been living with me for the past year?”
“No.” She has never cared about Sirius Black's living arrangements.
He sighs; she's obviously making it hard for him. He pulls his chair close and sits down, leaning towards her over the desk.
“Sirius has always hated his family,” he starts to explain. “His mother was a cruel woman who never accepted anything but her own worldview, and was hateful and violent towards anyone and anything that went against it.”
Lily nods, starting to see a pattern. “Is she dead too?”
“Uh, no,” he replies, momentarily distracted from his train of thought. “It's just that Sirius always speaks about her in the past tense. He left his home in fifth year, and we took him in.” He takes a moment before continuing. “It was the first time he found himself in a loving family. And my mum was more of a mother figure to him than his ever was.”
She runs her hand through her hair, understanding now. “I thought he'd only come with you to the funeral to support you as a friend.”
“No; he lost her as much as I did. More than I did, actually, because it was easier for me to let go; I had her for seventeen years, and I got all the love in the world from her. But he didn't. And now, just as he got it, it was taken right from his hands.”
Her expression has become gloomy. She can only imagine his pain upon losing what little of love he’s ever known; a pain so unbearable it has to get out, to be inflicted on others, if only to make him feel he’s not alone in his suffering.
“I'm sorry. I had no idea.”
“I’m sorry too,” James Potter replies. “It does not excuse what he did. I tried to give him time to reach out, but I guess I should’ve taken action sooner. I promise I won’t let him take his frustrations out on others again.”
Lily watches his earnest expression, and marvels at what kind of a huge heart James Potter must have in order to leave his own grieving aside and concentrate on assuming responsibility for his friend's actions.
**
Sirius Black does not prank any students again. And day by day, James Potter is starting to return to his cheery self, albeit with a heavy dose of introversion.
His smile lights up the common room again, and Lily is constantly noticing it, almost drawn to it. Every time she sees it, it feels like something's going right in the world.
She finds herself smiling back when he looks at her; and then she finds herself wanting it to happen more often than it does.
And she discovers that behind his square, tortoise-rimmed glasses, his eyes are hazel.
**
One morning, when Lily goes to the Head Office, she finds a girl standing outside the door. She doesn't know her; she's younger, and not a Gryffindor.
“Do you mind?” she tells her. “I need to speak the password.”
“I'm waiting for James,” the girl replies.
“Here's not a good place. Do you want to wait at the end of the corridor?”
“No, I want to wait here.”
Lily sighs and puts her hands on her hips, but James Potter is just arriving from down the corridor.
“There you go,” she tells the girl, who perks up at the sight of him.
“What's going on?” he asks, awkwardness in his smile. His eyes fly from Lily to the girl.
“I was waiting for you. You said we'd talk.”
“Now's not a good time, Ellie.”
“It's never a good time! You're always either in class, or at practice, or with her.”
Lily makes to start a tirade upon being called her, but James Potter speaks up.
“If you need to be told in your face that I'm not interested, then so be it. I hoped you'd have figured it out by now.”
The girl's eyes widen; she bursts into tears and runs away, her sobs echoing across the corridor.
“That could’ve gone better,” Lily comments.
“I had meant to be more gentle,” he says, his gaze lost at the far end of the corridor. “Sit somewhere quiet and explain.” He turns to Lily. “But not after she talked with such contempt about you.”
She smiles despite herself, appreciating the gallantry. “Does that happen often?” she asks with a grin.
He glances at the end of the corridor again. “More often than I'd like. And yet...”
“And yet?”
He looks back at her, his expression thoughtful. “Never with the right person.”
“That's a shame,” Lily concedes.
He shrugs.
“Should we go in?”
“Yeah, we're running late.”
She allows him to step forward; he taps the keyhole and speaks the password, and the door opens.
She follows him inside, wondering if he had someone specific in mind when he talked about the right person.
**
By dinnertime, the gossip has spread across all the tables, that James Potter rejected Ellie Carey and made her cry; Lily finds out she's a fifth-year Hufflepuff.
“He didn't make her cry,” she tells Celeste, who is sitting next to her. “He was just a little blunt because she couldn't take a hint. Apparently she’s been after him for a while.”
“She and half the school,” Celeste comments.
“But she’s the one who came looking for trouble,” Lily says with a shrug. “Half the school doesn’t show up butting in our business and talking about me as if I wasn’t there.”
Celeste’s expression brightens with enlightenment. “Ah, that explains things. I wouldn’t expect him to just sit back and watch someone talk dirt about the girl he fancies.”
Much as Lily agrees with the general sentiment, there’s a glaring flaw in Celeste’s words: the fact that she subscribes to the most ludicrous theory that has ever emerged regarding James Potter’s love interests. “He doesn’t fancy me. This is just something some of you have invented in order to justify it in your heads that he doesn't like you.”
“I was there when he asked you out.”
Lily scoffs. “The fact that you take James Potter seriously will be your downfall.”
“You wouldn't know a boy hitting on you if he did it with a club over your head,” Vivian mutters over her plate from her seat by Celeste’s other side, without looking at Lily.
Lily hears her, however; and she's pretty sure she was supposed to. “I beg your pardon?” she asks, her tone of voice dangerously rising as she leans over the table.
Vivian stands up and turns to Lily, her expression haughty and harsh. “You think you're something special, with your top grades and your Head Girl badge, too good to be hanging around with us, too smart to be bothering with boys and crushes! But make no mistake, you're no better than any of us, you're just a clueless, self-absorbed, conceited misanthrope.”
Lily rises in protest, but she has no words. She stands in place, gaping, as Vivian takes Celeste by the arm and together they leave the Great Hall in decisive strides.
From the far end of the table, James Potter – along with most of the school, really – has watched the spectacle, and he runs over to her across the other side of the table as though he has sensed his role in all this. “What happened?”
“That's what I get for trying to defend you,” she says, and she's not angry, because it's not his fault, but it's exactly what happened.
He seems to understand her state of mind; he actually looks touched. “You were trying to defend me?”
“Yes, I was telling them it wasn't your fault Ellie Carey started to cry. And somehow...!” She gestures to the general direction of the exit.
He frowns, his eyes cloudy, troubled. “Is there something I can do?”
Lily shakes her head and, with a hasty move, picks up her bag and leaves without another word.
**
Unwilling to go anywhere close to the Gryffindor Tower, Lily goes all the way up the castle and sits on the staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower.
Vivian's words still sting. And she realises that they sting because they're true.
She has really always looked down on everyone, taking too much pride in her grades and silently mocking the other girls for fawning over James Potter or whomever. She's never bragged out loud, but somehow it's obvious to everyone. Vivian is right even about that; Lily is clueless, socially inept, unable to comprehend what her behaviour looks like to others. They don't like her, no one does, and she's always been too far up her high horse to notice.
She has been judging everyone, and she's wrong about all of them. Vivian may be a little jealous of her grades, but she is clever and reasonable. Celeste may be a little naïve and clumsy, but she's kind-hearted and dedicated.
James Potter may act like an arrogant bullying toerag sometimes, but he will always step up whenever someone needs him, whether that is a nervous teammate, a lonely werewolf, a classmate who needs help with homework, a grieving friend, or Lily Evans who's being told off by one of her classmates.
Something's weighing in her chest, and yet, she feels empty. She thinks she should be wanting to cry, but she doesn't, because there are no tears inside her, not enough emotion.
She wonders if she's even human.
“There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you.”
It's Annie.
She sits on the step below Lily and looks at her, waiting for her to speak first.
Lily looks at her; Annie is her best friend, and she's managed to underappreciate even her. She is so much more than just a girl who has more sense than to spend her day daydreaming about James Potter. She's talented, hardworking, but most of all, she's the quiet presence Lily needs next to her to draw encouragement and support from.
She feels immensely guilty, because she thinks that she has done much less for Annie than Annie has done for her.
“I'm here,” Annie says, as though she's heard Lily's thoughts and decided to cross them out. “Tell me what you're thinking.”
Lily is thinking too many different things at once.
“Why do the girls think James Potter fancies me?” she decides to ask. “Is there something I'm missing?”
Annie ponders the question. “If you're asking whether he's been hitting on you and you've been too dense to notice, no, he hasn't.”
Lily lets out a heavy breath. “Good.”
“But the fact remains that you're the only one he's ever asked out.”
“That was over a year ago, and I maintain he was pulling my leg,” Lily says indignantly.
Annie chuckles. “We may never know.” She pats Lily's knee. “Come on, we have to go back to the common room.”
“I don't want to go,” Lily grumbles. “Can't we at least wait until the girls have fallen asleep?”
“How are you gonna know when that happens if you're here?”
“We can wait until 2 in the morning, then they'll certainly be asleep,” Lily says, her lip slightly curled upwards.
“I'm not sitting out here until 2 in the morning.” Annie gets up and grabs Lily's hand, pulling her up despite her light-hearted protests. “Come.”
**
When they return to the common room, only a handful of students are still there. Vivian and Celeste aren't, and Lily allows herself to hope that they may actually be asleep already.
James Potter is there, however, sitting alone at a table. He looks at her as though he wants to ask if she's all right, but doesn't dare.
She purposefully walks past him and tells him goodnight before she heads to the dormitory; he murmurs a goodnight back, and goes upstairs himself.
**
The girls may or may not be asleep; but they have drawn their curtains, and that's good enough for Lily.
She undresses, puts on her nightgown and slips under the covers, drawing her own curtains. She lets out a sigh as her head rests on the fluffy pillow, and she gratefully closes her eyes.
The events of the day replay in her head; the morning incident, Vivian's accusations, Annie finding her at the staircase, James Potter sitting alone at the table.
With a jolt, Lily realises he must have had a very difficult day himself. She can only imagine the number of people crowding around him to ask what happened, Ellie Carey's friends throwing him dirty looks, the unnerving feeling of being the subject of gossip in everyone's mouths.
And it didn't even occur to her to ask him if he was all right.
Self-absorbed.
Vivian is completely, painfully, devastatingly right.
**
The next morning, when Lily wakes up, Vivian and Celeste are already dressed and ready to go. They exchange looks with her, but leave without saying anything.
Lily gets ready quickly and goes to the Great Hall, where Annie has saved her a seat away from them.
After breakfast, she goes to the Head Office; James Potter is already there.
“Hey,” she greets him upon entering.
“Hey.” He looks at her and smiles.
“How are you today? I was thinking you must have had a tough day yesterday.”
His smile broadens. “Nah. I think it might work in my favour after all. No more girls pestering me all the time for dates if they're afraid I'm going to be mean to them.”
Lily raises an eyebrow. “But what about the right person?”
He shakes his head, and his gaze drops to the floor. “She's not coming anyway.”
“Are you sure?”
He looks up at her. “I think so.”
There's no eagerness in his voice, no acknowledgement in his eyes. Lily is sure she's not missing anything.
“Maybe that's for the best,” she says with a shrug. “I mean, I've always thought asking someone out in this school is a bit pointless anyway. Where would you even go?”
He laughs. “Good point.”
He allows her space so she can look at the noticeboard. She walks over to it and picks up the note with her assignments for the day. After reading it over a few times to mentally plan her schedule, she picks up her bag and stuffs it in its front pocket.
Her hand is on the doorknob when she hears James Potter's voice again. “Hey, Evans...”
She turns to him. “Yes?”
“Since the right person isn't coming, do you maybe wanna go out with me sometime?”
He's side-eyeing her over his shoulder, and there's just the slightest hint of a sly smile on his lips.
She didn't miss it.
“As long as you're sure I'm not ruining your chances,” she replies.
The hint of a smile becomes more obvious. “I'll take that risk.”
“All right, then. Let's see what going out in this school might be like.”
The obvious hint of a smile becomes a full-fledged grin. “I'll meet you here on Saturday after breakfast.”
“Excellent.”
She leaves the room, and only then does she allow herself to smile.
Two can play this game, and the prospect of playing it with James Potter is starting to look most exciting indeed.
**
Lily only tells Annie about the date on Saturday morning.
“What!” Annie's voice comes out as a strained exclamation, the word barely recognisable inside it.
“Yeah.” Lily speaks in a whisper, not wanting anyone else to hear about it until it happens. “He asked me out the day after the Ellie Carey incident.”
“And you agreed?” Annie sounds half-incredulous, half-delighted.
“Yeah.” Lily thinks back at the moment, and it brings a smile to her face. “It felt right.”
Annie studies her friend's face. “Still does, apparently.”
Lily looks down at her plate, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks. “We'll see how it goes.”
“As long as you don't get mobbed by his admirers, it should be fine.”
**
Lily finds James Potter waiting for her in the Head Office; they aren't usually given assignments on weekends.
“Ready?” he asks her.
“I think so,” she replies. “Where are we going?”
“Well, since the idea was to go out, I figured a walk by the lake would be a nice idea. The weather is good for it.”
“Sure.”
He stretches his hand out to ask for hers; she eyes it for a moment and decides to oblige him.
He leads her out of the office and down the corridor. His hold is not romantic or awkward; they're just walking together like any two good friends. He's in a good mood, his step almost skippy, and she keeps up with him, obviously more reserved, but content.
He walks her to the main entrance and opens the door, releasing her hand and gesturing for her to get out; she does, and he follows her.
The sun shines brightly, the air is fresh and smells of grass; her step slows down as she walks, taking in her surroundings, and he walks behind her as though not to disturb her.
They reach the waterside; she stops and looks at him, and she gives him her hand again. He takes it, and they start slowly walking along the bank of the lake.
“How are things with the girls?” he asks her.
“They just don't talk at all around me anymore.” She shrugs. “We've never been friends anyway. We just share the room.”
“Why?”
Lily's gaze drops to the ground as she takes some moments to think. “Just because we happen to be in the same House and the same year doesn't mean we'd make good friends. I guess it would be nice if it had worked out, but it never did.” She looks at him. “It's not anyone's fault.”
“I didn't say it was.”
“No, it's just...” She looks down again. “I've spent these few days wondering whether it was my fault. Whether I've been too much of a snob to hang around with them. But I never felt like they wanted me around, either. They just sort of stuck together from the beginning.” She looks up at him. “They knew each other already, you know.”
“And you had your friends in Slytherin.”
Lily blushes slightly. “Yeah, that didn't go so great.”
“It was to be expected,” he says airily, “but you wouldn't believe me unless you experienced their cruelty yourself.”
“You just have to brag, don't you.”
“It's not bragging if you're right.”
“I'm pretty sure it is.”
She grins at him, and he grins back for a moment. Then his expression becomes serious.
“I only wanted to protect you.”
Her gaze drops once again. “I know now.”
They continue walking slowly, hand in hand still. Lily watches the reflection of the sun on the water, she takes note of the wildflowers and the reeds, and she feels his eyes on her as she looks anywhere but at him.
She's not being shy, and it doesn't feel awkward; she just likes to enjoy nature while having him there, holding her hand. His presence is warm, and she feels protected.
She doesn't know how to put it into words for him.
“I like it here,” she ends up saying.
“Wanna sit down for a while?”
“Sure.”
He leads her a bit further away from the lake, where the ground is dry, and gently helps her down. Then he sits next to her, close enough but not too close, their arms at a distance comfortable enough to move without touching.
More students have started to make their way outside; Lily watches them as they scatter across the grounds, picking out the sunniest spots. She hopes none of them will think to walk all the way up to them.
A red butterfly comes fluttering around her legs; James Potter perks up, and his eyes start following it around.
“Seeker instincts,” she says with a chuckle.
He grins at her. “I can play Seeker. I'm just as good. But Chaser is more fun.”
“You play for fun, or for the win?”
“The win is worth nothing if you don't have fun.”
“What about having fun but not winning?”
“Where's the fun in that?”
She likes his playful grin and the gleam in his hazel eyes when he's teasing.
“I like to fly,” he continues, his eyes shooting up to the sky; a flock of Goldgulls is passing over their heads. “I love the sense of freedom and adventure.” His hand reaches up to his hair, mindlessly tousling it; she watches his movement for a moment, then she becomes focused on his face, his dreamlike expression. “It's like nothing can touch you when you're up there.”
“Aren't you ever afraid?”
He turns to her. “Of what?”
“Of falling.”
“I only fall when I want to.”
As if to demonstrate, he lets himself fall back, landing with his back on the grass, his eyes at the sky. He puts his hands behind his head and closes his eyes as the sun washes over him.
Lily doesn't feel like lying down, but she leans back with her hands propping her up and faces the sky, closing her eyes herself to share the warmth of the sun.
“Your hair is tickling me.”
She opens her eyes and turns to him. The tips of her red hair are playing close to his nose; he's still lying down, unmoving, without so much as flinching, only staring at her with a broad smile on his lips.
She does not apologise.
**
They stay outside together until almost lunchtime; some of their time spent talking, some teasing, and some in silence, and Lily finds all of it equally enjoyable.
He insists that as a gentleman, he must drop the lady off where he picked her up; so he takes her to the Head Office, opens the door and gestures for her to go in.
“Thank you,” she says with an exaggeratedly polite nod, and walks inside; he follows her and draws the door without completely shutting it.
“So, what did you think of going out in the school?” he asks.
“Much better than I would have imagined.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?”
“I think you will, regardless of what I say.”
He smiles, and she realises that, for all the time that they spent together this morning, she hasn't got enough of it.
“Next Saturday there's a Hogsmeade visit,” he says, substituting the smile for a show of nonchalance. “Maybe we can try going out for real, this time.”
She pretends to consider it. “As long as your right person doesn't come along until then.”
“You still think she will?”
“Why would she miss the chance to go out with the great James Potter?”
He scratches his chin thoughtfully; his eyes, gleaming golden, are fixed on hers. “Maybe because she thinks I'm an arrogant, bullying toerag.”
“Well, you can't blame her if she does.”
He shrugs.
“But she may go out with you nevertheless.”
“I guess that's a possibility.”
She throws him an enigmatic smile. “I'll see you on Saturday, then.”
He does not reply, instead he stares at her intently, as if trying to figure her out.
She turns around and grabs the doorknob, and that's when she hears his voice.
“You'll see me every day, Lily Evans.”
She is sure he can sense her smile as she opens the door and leaves without a word, because the feeling of euphoria overwhelming her is so massive, it cannot possibly be contained within her body.
She really had misjudged him; James Potter is pretty great. But not because he's tall, handsome, intelligent, athletic, charming, and from a good, rich, Pureblood family.
He's great because, even though he's made mistakes in the past, he's caring, generous, loyal, protective, and chivalrous. She’s seen all of it first hand by now, and it has touched her in a way she had never expected he was capable of.
His image is that of arrogance, his presence naturally commands attention, a few words is all he usually needs to get his point across; and yet he can spend a whole morning trying to earn her affection with his subtle teasing, his playful side-eye, and the way he smiles.
And he's great enough to get his way; because through her flaws and shortcomings, through her doubts and unease, through her prejudice towards him, he has seen his right person hiding underneath, and he's had the good sense to wait until her feelings had changed.
She was once again mistaken where everyone else was right, but this time, she is more than happy to admit it.
She will be seeing him every day, and she's looking forward to it.