AN: Just so you all know, this story is set in their seventh year, rated T for language and some sexual themes… sorta.

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling.

Hypothetically

Lily's POV

It all started when James Potter sat himself down beside me. …Well, maybe it starts a little before that. Alice and Mary had decided that they were going to annoy the hell out of Sirius Black this Hogsmeade trip. I hadn't the foggiest idea why, although I was beginning to suspect it was because Mary swore he was the sexiest man alive. Despite the fact that Alice had a boyfriend, she agreed that Black had a great deal of sex appeal. I just thought he was stupid.

However, nothing would dissuade my friends from a) driving him crazy and b) scaring off the Hufflepuff sixth year (I think her name was Sarah) he was taking to Hogsmeade today. So, when Sirius and his current shag-mate went into Madam Pudifoot's, Alice and Mary followed them… under a disillusionment charm.

As far as I knew, they were planning on doing things such as, though not limited to dumping cream on the poor girl, charming the sugar tongs alive so they'd bite her, and transfiguring the tablecloth into a lethifold… I really didn't think they'd be able to do the last one, but they were insistent they were capable.

I, however, as Head Girl, was taking no part in their plan. And while I didn't stop them, I didn't give them any ideas… because if I had, the girl would have a swarm of bees after her…

But anyways, as they were inside Madam Pudifoot's, probably inflicting some sort of torturous horror on the Hufflepuff while Sirius laughed his brains out, I was sitting on a bench in the cold. Did I mention it was January? Yeah, didn't think so. But as it was January, I was frozen.

The ground was covered in snow, and a sharp wind was blowing. My feet were starting to go numb, and I'd lost feeling in my ears ages ago. And then James Potter sat himself down next to me. "Hey Lily." He said.

"Hi James." I managed to say back through my chattering teeth.

"So what are you doing outside in January?" he asked curiously.

"Waiting for Alice and Mary." I said, gesturing to Madam Pudifoot's.

He winced at the sight of it, then said "Erm, why exactly are they in there?"

"Torturing Black's latest shag." I told him, waiting to see what his reaction was.

He laughed a little and said "Is it that blonde fifth year Ravenclaw chic with the mole on her ear, or has he moved on to the seventh year Slytherin prefect that he's been musing about for a week?"

"Neither. He's with some sixth year Hufflepuff." I told him, "I'm surprised you don't know, though. You'd think a guy would know who his best mate's current shag-buddy was."

James smiled. "With the rate Sirius goes through them, it's almost impossible to keep track." He told me. "We stopped trying around fifth year."

"Ah." I said, "That makes sense."

"Well, we marauders pride ourselves on being sensible." He proclaimed regally, before we both broke down into sniggers. When we'd both caught our breath, he said "However, how about you join me for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Sure." I said, before my natural James Potter hating instinct kicked in and I hexed him. He smiled and stood up, as did I. As we made our way down the cobblestone street, I couldn't help but wonder why I was enjoying myself so much in the presence of James Potter. Then again, I wasn't really sure why I hated him.

We got to the Three Broomsticks, and he held the door open for me. I cursed him in my head for be a gentleman, which made it much harder to hate him… although I wasn't sure if I even wanted to anymore. In fact, I was quite sure I didn't hate him.

We ordered our drinks and sat down at a table, sipping them silently. After what seemed like hours of awkward silence, James suddenly spoke up. "Lily, erm, hypothetically, if you saw a bloke and a bird having butterbeers together, would you think they were on a date?"

I blushed a little, realising what he was getting at. "Well, yes, in that hypothetical situation, I think I would believe they were on a date." I told him.

"And, erm, hypothetically," he went on, "would it be alright for the hypothetical bloke to kiss the hypothetical girl?"

I tilted my head to the side as I thought about it for a moment. "Yes, I suppose it would be alright, hypothetically," I told him, "for the hypothetical guy to kiss the hypothetical girl."

James nodded. "Hypothetically, of course?" he asked.

"Yes, of course, hypothetically." I told him.

We lapsed back into the awkward silence, although James looked like he was thinking over what I had said. I noticed he looked rather adorable while he was thinking, with his unruly black hair falling into his eyes, before I realised what I had just thought… And then I thought that, perhaps, I wouldn't mind being in the hypothetical situation.

I bit my lip, unsure of what I ought to do. "Erm, James," I said. His eyes lit up as he eagerly waited for me to continue. "What if, hypothetically, a girl wanted a bloke to kiss her, but she wasn't exactly sure how to say so?"

A slow smirk appeared on his face, although his eyes showed complete and utter joy. "Well," he said, scooting over in our booth so he was closer to me, "in this hypothetical situation, maybe it would be best is she just kissed him." He leaned closer to me, and I found myself leaning towards him too. "Hypothetically, of course." He murmured, and then he was kissing me.

His arms found their way around me, one on my lower back, the other just resting at my hip. My hands slid up his chest, before looping their way comfortably around his neck. After a moment, however, he pulled away, and searched my eyes for a sign.

I grinned up at him, and he murmured "All hypothetical, of course, eh Lily?"

"Absolutely." I said, before dragging his mouth back down to mine.