"Hey Lily." She didn't bother to look up from her textbook as she heard him say her name, but she did sigh.
"You're calling me that again."
"…Is it not your name?" He asked eyebrow raised in an amused fashion as he sat down in the empty seat next to her.
"No, it is. But not usually for you," she said, her eyes still scanning the pages of her book.
"Well, no. My name is James…"
"Ugh, Potter! You know what I'm getting at here." She was nearly frustrated now, though that might've had something to do with the fight she and her jumper had gotten in just prior to her trip to the library; the sweater just wasn't warm enough for the December air.
"No, Lily, no I don't." He adjusted the chair so that it was facing her, and turned all his attention to her.
"There it is again! What do you think you're playing at, Potter? Why are you calling me Lily all of a sudden? I've always just been Evans."
"And do you like being called Evans better?"
"Well…" A pause. "Yes, because then I don't have to feel badly for calling you Potter."
"You feel badly for that?"
"Not when you call me Evans."
"Well what about now, Lily?" He was greatly enjoying the conversation, and there was a shadow of his old smugness lacing his words.
"Now, I think you're infuriating," she snapped, and he laughed.
"Touché." Another pause. "Ah, getting in a little Transfiguration, I see?"
"I would be, if you weren't here."
"Ah, I'm that distracting, am I?" Six months ago she would have smacked him for his sass, but now she merely shook her head at it.
"What do you want, Potter?" A long pause. "Well?"
"I'm trying to decide how to answer," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"I wasn't aware there was more than one way," she said, giving him an incredulous stare.
"Of course there is," he said, leaning back in the chair. "The first is, y'know, my automatic answer from last year; that…question. But I'm skipping past that answer," he said hastily, before she could interrupt, "And going with the second option."
"And that is…"
"You interest me," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders. She seemed to forget exactly who he was just then, as her head tilted to the side and she looked at him in genuine curiosity.
"I interest you? I'm the coursework-obsessed Head Girl, and you're the brilliant, popular, Quidditch star…yet I interest you?"
"Hey, I'm a Head Student too," he said, before laughing. "And is it really that hard to believe you're interesting? Honestly, you don't give yourself enough credit." He paused for a moment, but after realizing she wasn't about to interrupt him, he went on. "For one thing, you're smart as hell; and it's not just that, you're actually dedicated. That's something that I'm still trying to understand. And for another thing, you've got this wicked temper than can be set off at any moment—no offence—but at other times, you're the nicest person I've ever seen."
"I think," she said, trying to keep a smile off her face, "That you could make anyone seem interesting, if you really tried."
"Maybe, Lily. Maybe," he said, smiling and winking at her. Her automatic response was to frown, but her face softened as she realized this wink and grin seemed to be different than the ones he used to send her in the hallways.
"You aren't going to go back to Evans, are you," she asked, looking down at her blank parchment.
"I don't think I will," he replied, his arms crossed over his chest. "Is that going to be a problem?" She merely grumbled in response, as his grin widened. There were a few moments of silence before she spoke again.
"You know what, you haven't been harassing many younger students lately," she commented, pretending as though it wasn't something she'd been noticing all year. His eyebrows rose.
"You've noticed?"
"Of course I've noticed, there's been far less Yelling-At-Potter-For-Hexing-First-Years moments this year than other years," she said, with a tinge of amusement in her voice. He just smiled at her, merely looking and not saying anything.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, slightly self-conscious.
"I'm thinking about how maybe you don't hate me nearly as much as you think you do."
"Hmm," she said, finally putting down her quill in surrender. "Maybe. Hate is a rather strong word."
"I'd settle for greatly despises," he said, a wicked grin on his face as he picked up her quill and began twirling it between his fingers.
"Don't push it," she said, giving him a look that caused him to gently place the quill back on the library table.
"Well, I'm off to Quidditch practice—Captain mustn't be late," he said formally, before standing up and winking at her once again. "Maybe I'll see you at dinner, Lily."
"Yeah, maybe. Bye…James."
A/N: Short, yes, but I was about to go on rambling, trust me. Thanks for taking the time to read this—I'd really appreciate it if you took another minute and left me a review with your thoughts/reactions. You're lovely