A/N: A companion piece to my previous story, "Odd." Basically it's the same thing, except with the even ages, and it's in James's POV. Please review, I would really love some feedback since I'm new to this website!

Disclaimer: JKR owns "Harry Potter."

Even

When James Potter was twelve years old, Lily Evans called him an "arrogant toerag" for the first time. James immediately laughed it off, with Sirius to back him up, but somewhere deep within him – although he would never admit it – the scathing nickname struck a chord.

"You're such an arrogant toerag! That's what you are!"

James laughed. "Come off it, Evans, you don't mean that!" He made to swing an arm around her shoulders, but Lily lunged away.

"Don't touch me!" she snapped, and James froze. "And yes, I do mean that! Your head is just too big for your shoulders, Potter!"

With that, she walked away.

James watched her go, eyebrows furrowing.

When James Potter was fourteen years old, he asked Lily to Hogsmeade for the first time. Before this one incident, James Potter had never had a single complication involving the female gender. To say that he was astonished when Lily refused his proposal would be an enormous understatement.

"'Afternoon, Evans," James called, plunking himself down upon the armrest of the armchair she was occupying, by the common room fireplace.

Lily narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you want?"

"Well, I really want the new Nimbus racing broom," James pretended to contemplate his options, scratching his chin. Then, he turned back to her, eyes twinkling. "But I'm assuming you don't much fancy broom-shopping, eh?"

Lily rolled her eyes. "Especially not for you, Potter."

"Listen, there's a Hogsmeade trip next weekend –"

"No."

"W-what?"

"No, I will not go to Hogsmeade with you."

"You – you didn't even know what I was going to say."

"What were you going to say?"

Pause.

"I – I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade –"

"And my answer is 'no.'"

And that was that.

When James Potter was sixteen years old, he caused Lily to lose her best friend in the entire world. Out of all of the mistakes James ever made, this was the one that he never stopped regretting.

"Evans –"

"Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry –"

"I don't care."

"He didn't deserve you, okay? Anyone who would call you – that – that word doesn't deserve to have you as a fr –"

There was a loud snapping noise as Lily slammed the book she'd been reading shut. "And who are you to decide that, Potter?" she demanded, hands curling into fists. "Who are you to decide who deserves to be my friend?"

James didn't have an answer.

When James Potter was eighteen years old, he proposed to Lily Evans in the same cozy, little Hogsmeade tea shop where he had taken Lily for their first date. His hands shook as he fumbled with the ring box – both from cold and nervousness – but when she said "yes," he was filled with a warmth so powerful that it nearly knocked him off of his feet.

"Merlin's beard." Lily's eyes were as round as saucers.

"Lily Anne Evans," James said, his breathing suddenly very shallow. "Ever since I was fifteen years old, I was pretty sure that you were the only girl for me. I definitely didn't deserve you then, but I have spent the past few years trying to make up for it –" James clicked the little silver clasp.

"Merlin's beard," Lily said again, gripping his arm very tightly.

"Every mistake I've ever made," James continued, voice trembling. "Every time I've ever hurt you … " James got down on one knee. "I want you to know that I am very, very sorry. And I only have one more thing to say …" he took a deep breath. "Marry me, Lil – ?"

"Of course I will, you toerag!"

When James Potter was twenty years old, he carried his son for the very first time. That one, fleeting moment, in which he held Lily's limp palm in one hand and Harry's tiny body in his other was the moment that James would, from thereon out, refer to as the happiest moment of his life.

"Come on, let me see him," Lily rasped impatiently, squeezing James's hand, and James got down on his knees, carefully placing little Harry on the hospital cot beside his mother.

They gazed at him together, both hungrily taking in the details of his face … the exact shape of his small fists … the steady rise-and-fall of his little chest …

Then – "I love him already," James whispered, turning to Lily.

She met his eyes, tears welling up in her own.

"I love him, too."