Hello again! Well, I guess that I am just on a roll tonight. I've got loads of time, and a lot of caffeine in my bloodstream. For some reason, I feel ultra-creative right now. My English teacher (whom I greatly dislike) would be proud. Now, right after I go take a potty break and finish singing along to Queen, I shall continue writing this spiffy story!
Here's a DISCLAIMER! that nobody will read, but I'd better put here just in case JK Rowling's lawyer has a secret passion for fanfiction, stumbles across this here story, reads about Lily & James Potter, sees that I have no disclaimer stating that I, in fact, am not a literary genius, and goes, "ME, OH MY! WE'D BETTER SUE THIS SILLY TEENAGE GIRL! PEOPLE MAY THINK THAT SHE IS THE GREAT JK ROWLING! FOR, YOU SEE, IT IS COMPLETELY POSSIBLE THAT JK ROWLING, A LITERARY GENIUS WHO IS MEGA-RICH, SPENDS ALL HER FREE TIME ON UNDER A SECRET NAME AND PRETENDS TO BE A TEENAGE GIRL WHO WRITES FAN FICTION ABOUT HER OWN CHARACTERS!" So, DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything. Not even my pants. They're actually my mother's pants.
Notes
Lily Evans rushed into Transfiguration ten minutes late. She had overslept, and hadn't even had a chance to eat breakfast.
"Ahh, Miss Evans, you see fit to join us. Take a seat. There's an empty one next to Mr. Potter." Professor McGonagall told her icily and motioned towards the seat next to James Potter, an attractive black-haired wizard.
Lily couldn't help but groan aloud. She was in her sixth year at Hogwarts. Although she would admit that she and Potter were getting on much better, she still didn't want to sit next to him during class. All throughout fifth year, Potter had constantly asked her out. And she had constantly turned him down. He was a pig-headed, arrogant, bullying, pompous prick. But he had gotten much better this year.
"Is there a problem, Miss Evans?" McGonagall turned back to her at the sound of her groan.
"Oh, err, no, Professor. I'm terribly sorry–" Lily began, but was silenced with a look from McGonagall.
"Yes, Miss Evans, I'm sure you are sorry. But this is not the time for apologies. Take your seat next to Mr. Potter, and get out your wand."
Lily nodded meekly, and slumped into the chair next to Potter. He turned to her and flashed her a bright grin. Glaring at him, as if that would somehow make her feel much better, Lily took out a piece of parchment, a quill, and some ink and began to take notes. She couldn't help but notice that Potter wasn't taking notes at all. He was simply doodling brooms and Quaffles and Golden Snitches on his bit of parchment, but he somehow managed to make it look as if he were paying attention.
Lily turned her attention back to McGonagall, who was demonstrating how to transfigure a whistle into a watch.
Potter suddenly slipped her a bit of parchment with something scribbled on it.
Having fun taking notes, Lily dear?
Lily sighed but scribbled a reply and slid it back to Potter.
Yes, as a matter of fact, I am, Potter.
She saw Potter grin from the corner of her eye.
I'm shocked that you deemed me worthy of your response.
As am I.
Oh, come, Lily, I'm not that bad.
Well, I admit that you've improved. Slightly.
Only slightly? C'mon, love, I'm loads better. Much less prickish
And saying THAT isn't pricky? Please, you've still got a lot of work to do on yourself, Potter.
Touché. That was a bit pricky. But, love, I'll change for you.
Potter. Don't call me love.
As you wish… love.
Don't make me hex you.
Okay, okay. I'll stop. So … doing anything this weekend?
Perhaps. That depends.
On what?
On if I need to make up an excuse to you.
Ouch, Lily. That stung.
Oh, come off it, Potter. We both know that you don't REALLY like me.
No, Lily, I can't say that we both do. For, you see, I was under the impression that I DID fancy you. But, you know, I may be wrong about my own feelings. After all, you do know everything. You're the great Lily Evans.
Look, I don't want to argue with you right now. We're in the middle of class.
So? Do you really think that I don't fancy you?
Actually, Potter, I really don't. Why should you? You can have anyone you want.
But I don't want ANYONE. I want YOU.
But WHY? There's nothing special about me.
Oh, I beg to differ. You're amazing, Lily.
You're just attracted to my looks.
No, I'm not. I mean, your looks don't hurt. But I like you for you. I like the way you smile, and how you take notes every class, and how you like to read. I really like your hair and your freckles. I like that you eat loads of food, really fast, like it's your last meal. It's sort of endearing.
Lily glanced up at Potter. He was staring at her intently. She couldn't help but blush furiously.
"Mr. Potter! Miss Evans! If you could stop making eyes at each other." McGonagall demanded sharply.
"Sorry, Professor." Lily muttered, turning even redder, if that was possible.
"Now, as I was saying, a three foot essay about the different techniques of transfiguring a watch into a whistle due by Thursday. That gives you three nights. Good day." McGonagall dismissed the class.
Lily stood up with Potter and walked out of the classroom, towards Charms while Potter was off in the opposite direction to Potions.
"Lily?"
Lily turned to see Potter looking at her with that same intent, serious look. She began to turn pink again. "Yes, Potter?"
"Just… just think about what I said, okay?"
"Yeah, I will… James." Lily blushed and practically ran to Charms.
As she scampered away, Potter grinned brilliantly, his whole face lighting up. She called me James...