A/N:Story 3/5 for andthearrowflies' prompt challenge. The prompt was 'project'.

Project

I wasn't going to get this done in time. Crap. I was out, out for good. If I couldn't get this done, I was going to get kicked out of McGonagall's class for sure this time. There were only so many second chances she could give. She'd done all that she could – offered private sessions, given me extra worksheets, revision books etc. She'd even assigned me a private tutor, but he was never anywhere to be seen. Why did he care if I wasn't going to pass Transfiguration? I'd never met a more selfish Ravenclaw in my life.

I lifted my head out of my hands, deciding that whatever was going to happen, sulking and giving up was not going to help. I took a deep breath and began working on the hardest project I'd ever been assigned. I looked at the expanse of notes and textbooks in front of me on the library table and groaned in frustration.

"Woah, Evans, you look like you're about to kill someone. Chill."

Great. This was exactly what I needed right now.

"Potter, go away," I muttered.

Instead, the arrogant prat just pulled out a chair and sat opposite me.

"Listen," I blocked him out, keeping my head down. "Lily, please, just listen."

I sighed, lifting my head and staring him in the eye.

"What? For god's sake Potter, I have an hour to get this done! I need about six! Just let me try and work, please."

"Lily, stop panicking. I'll help. It won't take that long. Just tell me what the project is about, and I'll try and help."

I pondered. He was about as good at Transfiguration as I was bad. I could do with his help. I didn't particularly like the guy, but I wasn't really in a position to decline any form of help.

"OK. Thanks. It's on household transfiguration, focusing on the Gemino charm, so it's basically just duplication, but I can't get the wandwork right, which isn't great considering I have to do my practical demonstration…"

He worked with me until curfew, when Pince demanded for us to leave.

He was a great tutor. Very patient and understanding, and he knew exactly how to conquer the charm I was focusing on. He was a great help and, just maybe, I might not be thrown out of the class after all.

"You know, you're not half as bad as you think you are. You just need some confidence. You got the O.W.L. results you needed to take this class – it wasn't a fluke."

I sighed. "Maybe, but McGonagall's noticed I've been struggling. She says I need to get my act together, or she'll suggest I drop the class. Aka, kick me out on my arse."

He laughed. "Well, why don't you just drop it? You don't enjoy it, do you? Just drop it and take up something else. It's not too late."

"I wish I could, but I need this N.E.W.T. or else they won't accept me into Auror academy. That's all I've ever really wanted to do, so I need it. If she kicks me out, that's it."

He frowned. "Well, how about you get a tutor?"

"McGonagall gave me one. Callum Jenkins, that seventh year Ravenclaw? Apparently he's really clever. Never shows up though. I've arranged several sessions, sent him notes, but he never shows."

He groaned. "I'm not surprised, Jenkins really is an arse. A great Quidditch player, but a total arse. Hey!" his eyes suddenly lit up, an idea sparking in his mind. "I could tutor you!"

I laughed. We would so not get on. Potter and I were famous for our hatred of one another. But, that session had worked rather well though, hadn't it? Maybe it could work.

"You know what," I said, "let's give it a go. Same place, same time next week?"

"Sure," he smiled, "it can be our little project."

I smiled. "Thanks. For your help, I mean."

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, sure, anytime."

We walked back up to the tower together, chatting as we ambled. Before we knew it, it was way past curfew. We were going to get caught if we didn't get a move on.

It was nice, just walking and chatting. I'd always kind of hated the guy. Ever since we met, we'd constantly fought, but never for any real reason. From day one it was always bickering, and I always made excuses to hate him. Did I ever have a real reason? Everyone else seemed to like him, perhaps it was me.

Maybe I should just wipe the slate clean, give it another chance. Everyone deserved a second chance; I knew that better than most.

With that thought, I trotted up the stairs to my dormitory contentedly, thinking about what great mates James Potter and I had the potential to be. 'Our little project', he had said, regarding my tutoring. Maybe our friendship would become part of that project. Who knew? Anything could happen.