Lily sat on the maroon sofa in the Gryffindor common room on February 13th. She was alone, studying for her O.W.L.s, ignoring the fact that it was nowhere near the end of the year. At least, that's what her best friend Mary Macdonald had told her. Mary was always trying to get Lily to "let down her hair." Lily's response was that Mary's ebony hair was always in a high and tight pony tail while Lily always wore hers down. Always was excluding right now, however. Lily had her fiery red hair in a messy bun with her bangs in her eyes. She was wearing a rather large Gryffindor tee-shirt with a large pumpkin juice stain and a pair of yellow sweat pants full of holes. She didn't really care about her looks when she was studying or sad, and at this point she was only studying to keep her mind off the heavy melancholy permeating her usually upbeat thoughts. She looked down at the wilting lilies and tear-stained letter she had received earlier that morning. The lilies were from Mary, Dorcas, and Emmaline. Her friends gave her the lilies each year on the day before Valentine's Day, hoping to ward off any potential Valentines of Lily's by giving the impression that she already had one. The three girls agreed that Lily was too pretty to be able to avoid any lovesick boys alone, but Lily's opinion differed on who needed protection from the males of Hogwarts. Lily thought Mary was beautiful with her dark black hair that seemed to reflect everything good around it, and her signature smirk that left everyone hanging. She adored Emmaline Vance's natural blonde waves and the melodious voice that she flaunted at every chance. She was jealous of Dorcas Meadowes' ability to pull off hair of many different unnatural colors and the way the girl could look beautiful in a potato sack. Lily's friends were beautiful, and they thought she was too, but they really didn't know the first thing about her. First off, Lily hated lilies, they seemed so sad and droopy, even before they were cut. She had told her friends this thousands of times before the pre-valentine ritual had began, but they never seemed to listen. They didn't care that her favorite play was Othello, or her favorite artist was Norman Rockwell. Lily tried to associate this with the fact that these were things of the Muggle world, but deep down she knew that Mar, Em, and Dor didn't know "Lil" at all. They couldn't seem to listen to a request as simple as a "don't call me Lil, please?".
Despite saying she didn't want a boy in her life yet, Lily would have gladly talked to anyone who genuinely cared and not just about her friends, but the letter she had just received. She had owled Tuni, after years of not speaking, and the reply was not pleasant. Lily had asked her sister, her best friend of years, for help; it was about Severus. Even after what he had called her, Lily still loved the boy who had told her she was not a freak when her best friend was turned against her by jealousy. However, every time he got near her, throwing himself at her feet, Lily would refuse him coldly. Before she knew what had happened, she had turned her back on him and stalked off in the other direction. She knew it was because Sev hadn't treated her right. He had barraged her with insults when they got together, although never anywhere someone else would hear. He even hit her occasionally, but Lily knew it was because of what his father did to him and it had never left any marks. She knew he couldn't help it, so she forgave. She forgave the Slytherin every time he caused her any pain, just reminding herself of everything he had done for her when they were younger. But something snapped when he called her Mudblood, and Lily broke it off. He didn't come and hit her, instead Severus begged to be back in her good graces, apologized for everything he'd done wrong. He said she was smart, beautiful, and everything he'd ever wanted. Perhaps she fell under the last two categories, but she did not feel in anyway smart. A smart person would have changed Severus' name in a letter to Petunia. But Lily didn't, and she paid in heartthrob for it. Her dearest sister had sent a letter back, saying that she didn't care about Lily anymore, she didn't care about the creep from down the road or anything that happened at the freakshow called Hogwarts. Petunia said she had married a nice, normal man and had purposely not invited Lily. Petunia told Lily not to contact the elder ever again unless the younger renounced all her abnormalities. Lily read the letter and sobbed. She locked herself in a stall in the second floor bathroom and cried. She stayed there for all her lessons, later claiming to have had a chest cold. She was now studying Dori's Transfiguration notes that she had missed. She set all her books, parchment on the floor and hugged her knees to her chest. She felt utterly, ridiculously alone as the tears leaked out of her eyes, making the mascara she forgot to remove run. She would have accepted the kind words of anyone now, even-
James Potter tiptoed out of the room with a stuffed lion in his overly large hand. He tried to be silent, even though he knew Remus' snores would drown out the noises of a Quidditch match. He didn't really know why the boys had made him leave his own room, but he did it to humor them. He tiptoed down the stairs to the common room, and, just before moving into the light, checked his watch. 12:02 a.m.
"Evans," he said loudly, stepping into a bright beam of light.
"Potter!" said Lily, jumping off the couch and looking self-consciously at her old pajamas.
"Sorry," James said, more quietly than his greeting. "I didn't mean to scare you."
He noticed her red nose and the black, shiny streaks on her face. "Er… is something wrong?" he asked, perplexed. He still had the lion behind his back.
"Here," he said, holding the gift out in his hand. "It's for you; Happy Valentine's Day."
Flustered, but glad to have the subject changed, Lily replied .
"But, Valentine's Day is tomorrow… unless I've studied through the night? Oh no, we have a Potions quiz tomorrow!"
"Relax," said James, plopping himself down on the couch, setting the lion she hadn't taken on his lap. "It's only a few minutes past midnight. Besides, you're a natural at potions."
"That's still too la-" Lily stopped, registering what he had just said. "What did you say?"
"You're a natural at potions, Evans."
Lily blushed a vibrant red and muttered a hurried "thank you."
"Come on, sit down. We've got time."
Lily sat down cautiously, although the sofa was far too small for two people to sit without touching. Lily felt her face flush again, although she wasn't quite sure why.
'She's beautiful even in these ratty old sweats,' thought James, hoping his mouth wasn't agape as it usually was when looking at her. Of course, the open mouth usually was flapping open and close and creating more hostility between him and Lily. He really didn't mean to blabber so obnoxiously, but words were harder to work with around her.
"Here," he repeated, composing himself. He set the lion on her lap. "I'm not sure why, but I thought you'd like him."
Lily picked up the maroon and gold lion. "Thank you. I think I'll name it… Harry. I've always liked the name." Or because it was normal...
Her thoughts changed track but pretended not to notice when James casually placed his arm behind her neck on the top of the couch. She tried to ignore the blush spreading through her body like electricity.
"You're very welcome, Lil."
"Er..." she began. Should she correct him? She didn't want to be rude. However, she really couldn't deal with the feelings associated with the shortened form of her name. "Could you, er... not call me Lil?"
"Oh," said James in surprise. He was under the impression that she had been warming up to him, but he apparently was wrong. Again. "I've heard your friends call you that, so I just th-"
"It's not you specifically!" exclaimed Lily rather aggressively. "Er... I don't really like it when they call me it either, so..."
"It's fine, no need to explain yourself," said James, wanting to get back into the comfortable swing of the conversation. "So, do you want to talk about whatever's bothering you?"
James had asked what was wrong, although none of her friends had. Lily turned to face James, her emerald green eyes filling to the brim with tears as his warm brown eyes searched hers for a sign of what was happening. They reminded Lily of the hot cocoa that she and Tuni used to make after playing in the snow so many years ago. At the thought of her sister, Lily burst into tears and buried her face in James' nearest shoulder. She pointed at the letter on the ground.
James picked it up but only read as far as "Dear Lil," because Lily had snatched it from his hand. She had been jolted back to reality, remembered who's shoulder she was crying on. James Potter didn't care about her, she knew she was just a prize to be won. She was the only girl in the whole school to reject his advances, and James didn't give up so easily. He'd been trying for two years or so now, and Lily would have none of it, no matter how much she needed a friend. Lily tried to smack James squarely across the face and run up the stairs in a huff, letter and lion in hand. Instead, she missed and only sort of boxed him in the ear and tripped on the bottom stair.
'What the bloody hell did I do?' thought James, covering his stinging and ringing ear.