Summary:Class warm-up. Prompt: Write a light-hearten story about how to get along with an enemy. JL. One-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
How to Get Along with A Mortal Enemy
Lily Evans stared at the blank piece of parchment, tapping her quill absently as she tried to think up on what to write. Of course! She thought she watched her mortal enemy – James bloody Potter walk past her desk. How to get along with him!
That would be near impossible, she thought, wrinkling her nose in disgust. Who would get along with him? She couldn't see how Remus Lupin could. Sirius Black was just another troublemaker and Peter Pettigrew was just in awe of Potter…
Back to the task!
Lily had no idea how to write this essay much less think it out. She couldn't even think of herself talking civilly to Potter. She spat his name even in her head. It was impossible to think that she, Lily Evans, Head Girl and master at Charms, could not even write this simple essay?
This wasn't even a real assignment! Her mind ranted. It didn't qualify. It had nothing to do with… anything!
She looked up from her blank parchment. To her immense relief, she found that the whole class pretty much was having a hard time with this essay. She was not alone.
She looked back at the parchment. Her eyelids grew droopy… Her parchment seemed to mock her…
The bell rung and the professor dismissed the class.
Lily scrambled out.
"Hey Evans!"
His familiar, annoying voice called out to Lily. Lily didn't spare him a glance. Instead, she answers with the familiar, annoying phrase.
"No, Potter," she said, bored, "I will not go out with you.
She turned to see Potter. He looked offended, deeply hurt. His grasp on his bag seemed to loosen. She felt her heart twinge with guilt.
"That's not what I was going to ask…" he started, "just wondering when the next meeting was."
Lily looked surprised. For the first time in six and a half years, Potter had asked her something that seemed… normal.
"Ah, right… Well, we'll decide later, alright?" she answered. She brushed a strand of her fiery red hair and looked away, embarrassed.
Potter shrugged, uncaring. "Alright, see you," he replied. He turned away.
For the first time in six and a half years, Lily noticed something about James Potter she had never known; something she had never seen; something she would later look back and ask herself why she didn't notice it earlier.
Lily noticed his hair firstly. His tousled, dark brown, almost black hair. His hazel eyes filled with mirth and mischievousness. His jaw line, sharp, and just screamed James Potter.
And she noticed that he was sad. He had given up on her.
Her.
Lily Evans.
And then she knew. She knew how to get along with a mortal enemy.
She waved and called, "Hey Potter!"
He turned, spotted her calling, and rose an eyebrow. She smiled, walked over, took a hand and asked.
"So Potter, there's a Hogsmede weekend coming up…"
-end-
-unbetated-