The door swung open, and Lily's eyes twitched towards it irritably. She couldn't imagine who would be coming into the sixth-year girls' dormitory at this obscure hour, especially when she had expressly warned her roommates that she needed the morning to catch up on her history of magic homework. On a Hogsmeade day, no less!
"Morning, Evans," sang an alarmingly deep voice. Lily looked up and laid her eyes questioningly on none other than James Potter, Gryffindor's resident toerag. How he had managed to enter the girls' tower she had no idea. That boy never ceased to amaze her. Actually, she wasn't surprised in the least. Of all the immature, trouble-making teenage boys attending Hogwarts, James Potter was king. He would be the one to find a way around ancient school rules.
"Potter...?" Lily asked; it was more of a vocalized thought than a fully-formed question. For an instant, the briefest of seconds, Lily let her guard down, and the look of tense disapproval on her face was replaced by a combination of dismay and wonder.
James slid through the half-open door, balancing a breakfast tray precariously on his left arm. He grinned, ruffled his hair with his unencumbered hand, and sat down leisurely on Mary's bed.
"Enjoying your date with Emeric the Evil?" he smirked. "No? Well I brought you some breakfast. I hope you like eggs. Or waffles. Or croissants. Or anything you can possibly imagine, really."
Lily frowned at him, confused. Since when did James do things for her? Especially out of sheer kindness?
"Thanks, I guess. Croissants are great. Yum... Dat'sh goob. Why arn't you in Hogzhmeade wif erryone elshe?"
James held back a snort. Laughing at Lily now, when she wasn't snapping or yelling at him, was clearly the wrong tactic. He calmly explained that Sirius had gone to visit his cousin Andromeda and her family over the Easter holidays, Remus was once again sick and in the hospital wing, and Peter was on a date with Bertha Jorkins, a chubby but bright-eyed Hufflepuff fifth-year.
Having finished eating, Lily was suddenly back on alert.
"You have the entire castle and grounds to yourself on a sunny April morning, and you chose the Gryffindor sixth-year girls' dormitory for your mischief?" she quizzed, a critical spark back in her eye.
James as sharp as ever, replied that there was just too much food on his tray, and that he needed someone to share it with. As hard as Lily tried to prevent it, she could not help but let a hint of a smile slip from between her lips; she had never heard the usually witty James Potter make such a lame attempt at a joke.
James was leaning over to see Lily's sad excuse for an essay, so he missed her silly half-smile. All he heard was her standard irritated retort.
"Well, it seems as though I'm finished eating. Perhaps you should find someone else to clear your tray, hmmm?"
James pulled his hand back from Lily's unfinished homework and stood up to leave.
"All - all right then. I guess I will. Bye, Evans."
"See you 'round, Potter," Lily replied, a look on her face that James had never seen before. He nodded, stepped outside, and shut the door quietly. James was disappointed in himself. Today's conversation had gone as badly as ever. He was getting nowhere.
On the other side of the door, Lily was in a panic. Had she really just had a civil conversation with James Potter? The James Potter? Had she really just laughed at a lame joke and maybe, just in the slightest way, enjoyed herself? It wasn't possible. And yet, it was true. It wasn't possible, but it had happened.
Although James would never know and Lily would never tell him, her strong dislike for him began to crack long before seventh year. In fact, it was one sunny April morning in 1976 when Lily began to realize that maybe, just maybe, James Potter wasn't so bad after all.