It was summer in Diagon Alley, and James had left his shopping too late. He was going through that phase that happens when boys are fifteen, when their mothers lament every new inch and they buy the same piece of clothing four times in a year. And Madam Malkin's was the place to go, when you decided to spend half of summer vacation in wizarding London because your best friend never wanted to go home.

So James Potter and Sirius Black were in the impossible long dressing room line for Madam Malkin's, growing more uncomfortable by the minute. "This is stupid, Prongs. Why don't you just wear ratty robes like the rest of us?"

"Because if my mother finds out I look like a house-elf, she'll send me a bloody Howler."

"But there are girls out there. Look. They're all shopping for Hogwarts and it's summer and damnit, James, why are we wasting our time in here?"

"You've been chasing girls all summer, Padfoot. I need clothes."

Sirius muttered something along the lines of "Vain ponce" and James smacked him, earning a disapproving glare from a middle-aged witch in front of them. They turned to glare at her, and when they'd turned back around James felt like he'd been Stupefied. Wandering aimlessly around the window display was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen.

He prodded Sirius furiously. "Ow!"

"Look. Look. Over there."

"Wow, a girl!" Sirius muttered, again.

"Stop muttering and support me."

"Why do you need support for Lily Evans?"

"You know her name?"

"She's in our year! And our HOUSE, you fool!"

"Shhhhhh" James hissed, causing Lily to turn in their direction. He looked carefully at one of the displays set up, near them, realizing too late that it was a set of lacy witches' robes. Sirius snorted loudly and Lily looked at him, frowning. The two boys froze for a moment until she went back to looking at robes. James breathed out sharply in relief.

"The presence of girls causes you to gain an interest in lace! Who knew?" Sirius hissed gleefully into James' ear.

"I am not gaining an interest in lace, I am gaining an interest in Lily Evans."

"Then talk to her."

James realized that yes, in fact, he could talk to her. He was great at talking to girls. Never even got butterflies. He strode confidently over to her and stood a small distance away, waiting for her to turn and see him. She did not turn for a long while, intent on her shopping, and James almost left to reclaim his place in that impossibly long queue. When she finally turned and smiled, fixing him with emerald green eyes, James felt his heart clench.

"Hello. I'm Lily. Are you quite alright?"

And when she spoke, James felt a thousand butterflies lift him almost off the ground.