Welcome to Faux Pas, what will one day be a happy account of the dating exploits of Lily Evans and James Potter!

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the rights to the Harry Potter series, that would be J.K.Rowling. If I did, I would have more money than I could ever possibly figure out what to do with. A plight I don't anticipate occurring anytime soon.

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Perfection was something commonly viewed to be unattainable by both Muggle and Wizarding communities. In fact, it was one of few views that both magical and non-magical folk alike agreed upon. The second view agreed upon by both communities was the fact that Sunday afternoons were far preferable to any other afternoon on any other day of the week. The third (and by far most important) agreement pertained mostly to the first, in saying that James Potter was as near perfection as anyone was likely to get.

Or, at least, this was the common view of all Wizard and Muggle born youths at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry.

It had been exactly six years to the day since James Potter had taken his first step onto the grounds of Hogwarts School as a slightly timid eleven year old. In those six years James had grown into a loud and nefarious teen, easily becoming the most popular and infamous face the school had seen in many years. Teachers held hushed conversations from their long tables at the front of the Great Hall every year, wishing, hoping, that the Potter boy would stay as far away from their classrooms as he was able. The students however, all but the first years, fought hand over fist for the opportunity to welcome him back before their fellows, shaking his hand, and calling cries of, 'To another good year then, mate!'

James' popularity was due to four main attributes.

The first was the boy's eerie talent on the Quidditch pitch. As many of his Wizarding fellows, James had been playing Quidditch since he'd first been tall enough to mount a broom stick. As an only child, James had first played with his father in fairly one-sided games that had taught him all of the basic ins and outs of the world-famous Wizarding sport. As he grew and made his own friends, James began playing with teams of children who lived round about his home, just outside Godric's Hollow. By the time the Potter boy had reached Hogwarts, he had been the best Seeker in his area and an easy addition to the Gryffindor Team since reaching an appropriate age. The players agreed, unanimously, that James was a good deal of the reason that the proud lions of Gryffindor had brought home the House Cup year after year, and the fans agreed, unanimously, that one day they would see James Potter playing Seeker for Britain in the World Cup. School-wide fame for being a sporting hero was hardly enough for James Potter though, and his second call to glory was a most excellent compliment to his first.

It was as ring-leader of the Marauders that James became equally known. Shortly after meeting Sirius Black in first year, the Potter boy had known they had a destiny far beyond friendship. Sirius and James were not pals, not mates, but comrades. The school of Hogwarts and its inhabitants were their playground, and the fine products of Zoinkos their playthings. With the addition of the brilliant werewolf Remus Lupin, and grunt work of Peter Pettigrew, the four grew close to gods in the Gryffindor common room. From settling scores with Slytherins, to ending school events with an unexpected 'bang', James had beamed his way through detentions and extra assignments with Sirius by his side, impatient for the moment in which he would return to Moony and Wormtail to begin plotting their next charade. Heralded by the students of three houses and disdained by those of one, the four trouble makers made easy history of Hogwarts School.

The third attribute to James's exploding popularity was how abnormally easy-going he was. There was nothing he wouldn't do, nowhere he wouldn't go, and no one he wouldn't see, even for a complete stranger. James was friends with everyone, causing his praises to be sung through every swinging staircase in the school. Though he wasn't someone you'd want to go to get homework done, James could do just about anything else. If you needed someone put in their place, he was there. If you didn't have the courage to speak to the girl of your dreams, he was there. If you needed a quick lift of spirits, he was there (accompanied by a bottle of fire whiskey, of course). If you weren't a slimy Slytherin, James Potter was your go-to man. He was noble, he was chivalrous, and he was nothing short of a hero within the crimson and gold draped rooms he called home.

The fourth and very likely most important (at least to the boy himself) thing that burgeoned his popularity was James' uncanny good looks. There was not a cell on James's body that didn't hum with perfection. From the desirably dishevelled black locks on the top of his head, to the soles of his perfect feet, he was gorgeous. Lithely muscled from regular Quidditch practice, James was built as an athlete, like a wild cat. Draped with graceful sinew, James was strong without being burly, quick without being a featherweight, and sculpted as if he was a Muggle masterpiece breathed to life. Soft lips, hazel eyes, and sun kissed skin suited him well, warranting the fawning fan club of Muggle and Wizarding girls alike who would have followed him to the end of the world for nothing but a flash of his pearly white teeth.

There were many who resented James for his near-perfection, though. Most of these were not people of note—either residents of the dungeon, or jealous males who had never worked up the courage to get to know the Gryffindor idol. There was one person, though, however inconsequential, who James absolutely abhorred, and who abhorred him in return. No matter how many of his peers shook his hands in the hallways, clapped his shoulder after a good game, or offered to assist him in any way possible should ever he need it, all of that could not make up for the fact that Severus Snape was always in the corner of his mind's eye.

Snape was the bane of the Potter boy's existence. Being Slytherin, it was easy to see the different ideals which marked the separation between them. Snape was eerie, slimy, alone, and sour. James was noble, adored, jovial, and courageous. The two were born to be arch enemies, wands meeting at every turn, sneer meeting determined frown in clash after clash between two titans of the Wizarding school. Snape was the victim of many a Marauder plot, whether at James' direction, or that of Sirius, who shared his best mate's disdain for the greasy dark-haired dungeon dweller, and Snape retaliated in a way that was far worse than cheating.

He told Lily Evans.

Lily Evans, the only girl in all of Hogwarts, perhaps even in the entire world, who would not accept an invitation to dinner from James Potter. The only girl in whom James found even the slightest challenge. The Prefect with the auburn ponytail and emerald cut eyes, whose glare sent shock waves through even James' rock hard stomach if he so much as smiled at her. Lily Evans, as he had been telling his best friends, who he wanted more than anything.

"She's too good for you, mate." Was Sirius' expert opinion. The dark haired Gryffindor was lounging luxuriously in one heavily-padded crimson armchair by the common room fire, large black army boots resting on the coffee table without so much as a thought to the effort that went into cleaning it. James often found occasion to be jealous of his best friend, who, despite James' best efforts, managed to equal his handsome charm in a more ruggedly masculine way.

"She is not too good for me."

Remus seemed to decide his input was warranted at this point, previous silence in the conversation being driven away in light of the tone of James' voice, one likely to end with a fist in Sirius' mouth. "I suppose it depends on which way Sirius means it. I'm almost certain that he's implying that Lily is a very responsible, intelligent girl, who would rather deduct house points from you than agree to go with someone who spends most of his effort in pranking, not grades." Looking to Sirius for approval, Remus nodded his own sage head in time with Sirius' agreeing head bob.

"Oh." James' quandary became more internal as his perfect brow creased in thought. It was possible that they were right. Lily Evans was very good. She was top of her class, prefect, certainly in line to be Head Girl, and had often deducted House Points from James rather than look at him. When she was not deducting house points, she was often frowning at him, scolding him, or cursing him. All things that hinted at Sirius and Remus being more correct than James would have liked to admit. Pulling a face at his unwanted revelation, James tuned in to the conversation just as Peter was finishing a verbal thought.

"...quite possible. I don't think Lily turns him down because she's too good for him. Lily's very nice you know, she's helped me with my homework more often than I do it myself. I think it's probably just that she doesn't realize that James can be nice too."

"Yes, exactly!" James cheered, finding his feet in his excitement; beaming at Peter for all that he was worth. "It's only because she thinks I'm a pompous, arrogant prick, who gets some sort of sick pleasure out of making Snape's life a living hell." Peter fluffed himself with pride at being right, while Sirius sent the short rotund boy a sidelong glance that clearly outlined how insane he believed the boy to be.

"Perhaps that's because you are a pompous, arrogant prick, who gets some sort of sick pleasure out of making Snape's life a living hell."

James snorted scornfully, but collapsed, defeated, back into his armchair. "Alright. So I do enjoy causing Snivellus a little grief now and then. Who could blame me? That doesn't mean I'm a total wanker. I can be perfectly gentlemanly thank you very much." Crossing his arms across his broad chest, James sulked, much to Sirius' amusement.

"You're my knight in shining armour, James, dear."

It took approximately half a second for James to launch a crimson pillow at his best mate with a sigh. "You, Sirius Black, are a total ponce." This seemed to charm Sirius rather than offend him, and the dark haired Black simply winked handsomely at James in way of response. Getting once more to his feet, James began to pace a familiar path back and forth in front of the hearth, hands clasped behind his back, thinking face on.

"Don't hurt yourself, mate." Serious drawled, receiving only a short scathing glare in return, as James marched a path to and fro, making furrows in the carpet with his socked feet. Finally, after many minutes of consideration, and making his friends considerably woozy from tracing his repetitive path with their eyes, James halted before the fireplace, the warm orange glow of flames issuing from behind him as if he were deigned of god.

"Well gentlemen, I don't care if she is too good for me, and I don't care if I am a bloody jerk. This year I will have Lily Evans, if I have to give up all that I hold dear to do it!"

This sent Sirius into a bought of uncontrollable laughter, a barking sound that neatly covered Remus' attempt at politely laughing into his hand, and Pete's squeak of surprise. James, off in his own world, heard none of it, instead standing before the fire, hand on his narrow hips, with the determined but pleased look of an early European explorer stamped across his face.

After all, he was going to have Lily Evans.

If it was the last thing he did.

Only, he had no idea what he was getting himself into.

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I realize that this is rather short, but having never written fan fiction before, I was rather hoping to get some feedback before continuing.

So, constructive criticism is appreciated, pleaseandthankyou!