Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything to do with it.

I glanced at the clock again, sighing when I saw that we still had four minutes left of class. Time seemed to pass so slowly in Charms- my last class of the day. It was my best subject, but certainly not my favorite.

"All right, class. I'll see you tomorrow!" the professor finally dismissed, and I smiled to myself as I gathered my books and made to stand up.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans, may I have a word with you?" he added, not looking up from organizing his desk. At my worried look, he glanced up and smiled, saying, "You're not in trouble, Ms. Evans. Not to worry." I nodded in response and crossed the room to his desk, not missing the fact that Potter stood a bit too close to me once I reached it.

"Mr. Potter, I know you are a quite bright young man," he began. I suppressed a snort at his statement, though I knew it was true. "But your marks in this class are not reflecting your intelligence." He turned to me, and then continued, "Lily, I was hoping you would be so kind as to tutor him until his work improves."

James turned to me with a cocky grin, knowing me well enough to realize that I wouldn't disagree with a teacher. Knowing I was stuck with him. "But, professor, I have exams to study for, and homework. I just don't-" I started.

"But, Lily, please. I'm very concerned about my academic success. Only you can save me from a future as an unsuccessful muggle. Help me, Lily," James pleaded dramatically, trying to hide a smirk.

"Ms. Evans, he really could use your help. Just an hour or so a day. If you have any trouble keeping up with your homework in this class because of this arrangement, please see me." He said it with such finality; I knew that the topic was not up for negotiation. So I simply nodded. The professor smiled, satisfied, and then left his classroom without another word to either of us.

Potter turned to me, smiling. "Well, now that's settled, shall we take a stroll to the common room and begin our very important studying?" He held out a hand for me to take, which I didn't, of course.

"Let's just get this over with, please," I muttered, walking past him and into the corridor, making my way to the common room. I could hear him behind me, jogging to catch up and then falling into step with me.

"This doesn't have to be miserable, Evans," he informed me casually as he walked alongside me.

"That's true. You could just start trying to do well, and then you wouldn't need a tutor," I agreed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked me, almost sounding offended.

"It means you could do better, Potter, and you know it. You're not stupid. If you'd just put some effort into this class…What in Merlin's name are you bloody staring at?" I challenged, uncomfortable with the look in his eyes. Almost humorous, and too admiring.

"The thing is, that class would be easy if it weren't for the fact that I'm always so distracted in it. It's your fault, actually." With a goofy grin on his face, he lightly tapped my nose with his index finger.

"It's not my fault that you're doing horrible in charms, Potter," I disagreed.

"Sure it is," James replied as we arrived in the common room and sat down opposite each other.

"How?" I demanded, eyebrows raised.

"Lily, there's a Hogsmead trip on Sa-"

"Don't change the subject! This is counting toward your hour for the day, you know," I warned him.

"Fine. You and I both know that I don't need help in Charms. If only I wasn't so distracted during class…" he trailed off, his expression annoyingly smug.

"It's not my fault!" I insisted.

"It is," he countered.

"How?" I challenged.

"You just sit there every day, acting like you're not aware that the light is hitting your hair so perfectly. And you're constantly taking notes, and your eyes shift from your paper to the teacher and your eyelashes are just so long. And you're just listening to the professor so closely, and you never listen to me like that, and it's the only time I'm ever jealous of a teacher, but Merlin, am I jealous." And then he just stopped talking.

"James, all of the girls sit and take notes and look at the teacher and listen to him closely. I'm not sure how that's an excuse for your failing this class," I said condescendingly.

"It's different with you, Lily." He's whispered, and he had moved closer to me somehow, without my noticing. He was sitting on the same couch as me, in fact.

"How is it different?" I asked him quietly, staring at his eyes and trying not to move closer to him. A piece of his hair stuck straight up, and I resisted the urge to run my fingers through it and pat it down.

"It's different because I'm not in love with any of the other girls," he replied, smiling gently and taking my hand. I couldn't find the strength to snatch it back.

"You don't love me, Potter," I laughed, reminding my self to breathe. He was so, so close to me. I silently thanked his faulty genes for making him need glasses. If his eyes were this hypnotic now, I could only imagine how dangerous they were alone. My hand itched to reach up and take those lenses off, but I decided against it. My left hand was still in his, and I couldn't help but notice how attractively large and soft his were. What an odd thing to notice…hand size.

"Actually, Lily, I do love you. And you love me, too; you just won't admit it. To yourself, even. It's quite sad, really," he was still whispering, his voice smooth and calm. His pink lips were curved into a knowing smile. He knew he was finally getting to me.

"You love me, Lily, and I love you," James repeated, getting closer to me so that all I could see were his eyes. "Am I right?" I shook my head stubbornly, though I knew that he was wearing me down. So did he. "Lily, you are in love with me. I am in love with you. And it's good, okay?" He had his eyebrows raised, expectant.

I nodded, helpless. It was true, of course, and I knew it. I had known for quite a while, actually. "Yea," I breathed, watching as overwhelming joy filled his eyes. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, perhaps in disbelief. His black lashes contrasted beautifully against his light skin.

"Say it, then," he suggested, his voice so quiet I wouldn't have heard him if I wasn't so close to him. To his mouth.

"You love me, James. And I love you," I murmured.

"You've finally got it, haven't you?" he mused with a smile.

And then James Potter, who loved me, leaned forward and captured my mouth with his. And I, Lily Evans, kissed him back, because I loved him, too.

XXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOOXXXOOO

I'm not so sure about this one. Tell me what's wrong with it, please. Or, if you liked it, tell me that, too.

Thanks for reading, and thanks a million if you take a moment to review!