I'm not exactly the happiest with this oneshot. Personally, I think it seems a little girly to me, and I'll admit that I'm not the best at capturing the male psyche. I'm sorry if James seems like a bit of a wimp to the readers, but you can always tell me so in a review. As always, reviews are welcome, even if they are particularly brutal flames.

She is coming, my dove, my dear;

She is coming, my life, my fate;

The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near;"

And the white rose weeps, "She is late;"

The larkspur listens, "I hear, I hear;"

And the lily whispers, "I wait."

"Come into the Garden, Maud" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I have waited for so long. I waited for her opinion to shift to the point where she could stand to look me in the face without a scoff forming behind her lips. I waited for the tim when she could finally nod at me as we passed in the corridor. I waited until she could hold a somewhat pleasant conversation without any biting remarks as to the level of my arrogance. I waited for the moment when she didn't recoil in disgust at my touch. I waited until she finally said yes.

And now, as I attempt to flatten my unruly hair, the slow wearing down of her defenses seems so strange. It felt as though her hatred of me would only increase as the years went by, but it seems a fortunate accident that it weakened. In our first year, I thought even the strongest spell couldn't loosen her resolve, and now, in our seventh, I don't know what changed.

I look at myself in the mirror. The same hazel eyes partially hidden behind thick frames, the same black hair that stuck up in the back. None of my features had changed whatsoever, except perhaps to gain a more mature look about them. And Lily, she was still as pretty as that day by the lake when she dipped her toes into the water and proceeded to spit fire at me. Her long red hair and green eyes still burned with wit and intelligence.

We are still fundamentally the same people on the outside, but what of the personalities we exhibit? I don't feel any different; I don't feel as though I've suddenly become a new man who is worthy of Lily. She has softened in some things (mainly in her treatment of me) but yet has hardened in others. She has become so devoted to fighting Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters-it has almost become her personal crusade. I see nothing that has changed in extreme measures.

Except perhaps one thing.

I look at my reflection in the mirror and shake that thought out of my mind. Their once friendship and now his pronounced absence in her life means nothing. Lily's friendship with that whelp was doomed from the start-they were too radically different. Bridging the river Styx between the light of life and the dark of death is too difficult, even in times of peace. Their Houses indicate deeply entrenched values that do not mesh well as a rule.

Lily's former friendship with Snape means nothing. I try to convince myself of that as I straighten my collar. She said yes to me, I think and reassure myself. She did not say yes just to spite Snape and see the look on his face. And as far as I know, he does not even know that we are spending the day together in Hogsmeade (he has not looked at me with more than his usual hatred). I haven't even bragged about it much, except to the other Marauders.

My thoughts wander to meeting her down in the common room where we agreed to meet. Undoubtedly, the day will be filled with necessary conversation. After the inevitable hellos, what will I say to her? 'You look beautiful'? I do not want her to think that I am shallow enough to take her out just for her looks. Merlin's beard, I'll just wing it, though what I did naturally got me in heaps of troubl for seven years of interacting with her. I'm not Sirius-I'm not smooth. I clear this out of my mind as well; five minutes before a first date is no time for self-deprecation.

I've been waiting for this day for what seems to have been a century. I've kept a strong enough hope alive to keep asking even after so many resounding rejections. It seems strange that I kept my ridiculous fancy for as long as I have, even though every arrow pointed me in every possible direction but that of Lily Evans. And thank Merlin, I didn't have to resort to a love potion because I've never been much of a potion brewer. I left that to a slimy git.

In the mirror, I keep finding errors in my appearance. My robes look slightly off-center, so I attempt to tug it back into a more suitable position. My hair looks to be a little too flattened like I'm trying too hard to impress her, so I fluff it up. Why can't I just show up as Prongs?

I need to get my head on straight before I go down to meet her. It's Lily, and I've been waiting for this. I straighten my glasses one last time and close the dormitory door before heading down to the common room and the flower.