Once upon a time, when miss Lily Evans was in first year, an extraordinary thing happened. She fell in the lake. She never could sail...or swim, and felt like she was about to die, when a very wet boy with shaggy black hair and caramel brown eyes saved her from the jaws of death. Or the squid. You never know.
But the one thing she did remember was that she had met this boy. On the train. He was awful to her best friend, Severus Snape. As soon as she regained ability to move, she shoved him away from her. Hard.
That was the day that Miss Evans fell desperately in love with Mr. Potter, and he fell in love with her.
Naturally, he tried to court her, asking her out every day of the year. She said no every time. He was just too desperate.
Soon after, his plots became more elaborate, the simplest being in second year, when her threw a very cold snowball at her head, saying, "Oi, Evans! Go out with me!" and the most compilcated and annoying in sixth year, when he sent her hundreds of red heart-shaped valentines singing some ridiculous song about love, and very pink glitter erupted around her head. It said, Going out with James Potter.
She slapped him.
There was hot pink glitter on his face for about a month afterwards.
His ego was too big for her tastes, so she never said yes.
But next year, he asked her out on a date the normal way. When she was alone in the library, he whispered it. It was the two-thousandth, four-hundredth, eighty-second day he had asked her out. She was so shocked senseless that she said the one word she never regretted.
Yes.
At graduation, he proposed. She accepted. And they lived happily ever after.
At least, so far.