Potter Who?

Very loosely based on the prompt, 'lily slowly realizing that she's started calling him "james" instead of "potter"' which has been circulating around on Tumblr.

Note - For myloveluna on Tumblr. I love you to the moon and back, Clara, and I hope you enjoy this even though it may not exactly be like what you expected. My writing clearly has a mind of it's own!

Also, gracious thanks go out to my beta, Midnight, who is always super helpful and never complains when I suddenly bombard her with chapters!

The weirdness started from halfway through breakfast.

Lily had been happily munching away on her chocolate-drizzled waffle, listening to Mary blather on something or the other about Wendy What's-Her-Face and how she was rumored to have been shagging a different bloke everyday in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom of all places. She was only half paying attention to the absurd story, which was why it wasn't difficult for her to overhear the furious whispering going on a little further down the Gryffindor table.

She couldn't turn her head and look, of course.

You didn't just turn your head and look at people when they were whispering. It was like a law, or something.

Never mind that Lily was quite certain she'd heard her name being uttered by one of the four buffoons who liked to call themselves the Marauders, and who were also incidentally sixth-year Gryffindors along with her.

But no matter how hard she tried, Lily really couldn't concentrate on Mary's retelling of Wendy's wild toilet rendezvous when her attention was clearly elsewhere. Why had they been talking about her?

A quick, sidelong glance told her that the small gang of mischief makers was huddled together; their heads bent as they partook is some serious debate. Remus's face was set in an admonishing expression, and she caught the words 'needs to apologize' being hissed. His frustration was directed at Sirius, who was rolling his eyes in a show of exasperation. As soon as they'd completed their three-sixty degree rotation, his grey eyes caught onto her face and Lily shifted her gaze away, quick as lightning.

A beat later, the whispering grew faster, more urgent.

She bent her head forward, allowing her curtain of red hair to cover her face, even as she nodded absently at whatever Mary, seemingly unaware of her surroundings, was saying to her.

Thankfully, Lily didn't have to drown in her own curiosity for too long, because there was suddenly some shuffling and someone stood up, walking towards their side of the table. Lily kept her head down, even though her peripheral vision told her enough about exactly who was approaching them, because while she might have admitted to herself that she paid an unhealthy amount of attention to this particular person, no one else needed to know that.

"…and Hopkins swore he heard moans, Lily, and not from Myrtle either!—oh!" Mary paused in her story-telling, looking up at the person standing behind Lily. "Morning, Potter. How was your summer?"

"Good thanks! Drove Mum crazy with all the Quidditch I played." His voice had gotten deeper over the break, Lily noticed. It'd been a week and a half since school had resumed for their sixth year back at Hogwarts, but Lily had made it a point to avoid James Potter and his little gang—barring Remus, who was absolutely lovely and had prefect duties with her—after the whole fiasco with Severus near the lake after OWLs last term.

While Lily had effectively closed the chapter on her friendship with Severus, her interactions with Potter had grown so stinted and awkward that they barely managed to look at each other without turning some shade of scarlet or the other. Lily didn't know exactly why this was, because she'd had no qualms about giving him a piece of her mind back at the lake—been quite cruel at it, in fact—and nor did he shy away from anything ever.

So this strange middle-ground where James Potter was neither an enemy nor an ally…Lily didn't like it. Didn't like it at all.

She didn't do awkward. Anger? Frustration? Happiness? Sure. But not awkward.

And if the way he kept shuffling his feet behind her nervously was any indication, it seemed neither did he.

She still hadn't turned around and looked at him, even though, her mind pointed out, she clearly had no problem doing it when he wasn't looking at her.

No one could know that though. Obviously.

"So, did you need anything?" Mary asked when Potter didn't leave. Lily could literally feel him burning holes in the back of her head. "We were kind of in the middle of something."

"Yeah, actually, I wanted to talk to Lily," Potter replied, effectively stunning both the girls into silence.

Lily was quite confident that she'd never, in all of her six years at Hogwarts, heard him call her by her first name while she was right there. Yes, she'd heard him use it when referring to her in third person, or when he thought she couldn't hear him, of course. His crush on her was no secret, and it would've been slightly strange if he'd never called her Lily, but this…

It was like he was breaking some sort of sacred agreement between them.

Didn't he know what it was doing to her mental state?

They weren't friends!

They were ignoring each other!

Or at least Lily was. Outwardly.

He hadn't even spoken to her since September first. So she'd assumed he was ignoring her too.

And then he just comes out of nowhere and throws 'Lily' at her?!

"Lily? Do you mind? It's…uh, important."

There he went doing it again, and Lily just barely kept her jaw from dropping to the floor. Clearly the first time hadn't been a slip of the tongue then.

Mary had no trouble gaping shamelessly though. She looked at Lily with open surprise, the 'what the fuck is going on?' shining in her brown eyes as clearly as if it had been written in bold letters across her forehead.

But Lily didn't know what was going on.

She frowned, her green eyes darting to the other three Marauders of their own accord, and it really said something about the strangeness of the situation that the usually-suave boys jumped when they noticed her staring. With unsubtle moves that would've given Mary a run for her money, Sirius suddenly found great interest in the bottle of ketchup, while Remus threw a forced punch on Peter's shoulder and let out the fakest of laughs she'd ever heard.

Peter, to his credit, only cringed very slightly, and joined in on the uneasy chuckling.

Lily sighed heavily, and to spare Potter the humiliation—because she'd clearly heard the struggle in his voice—she took a deep breath and finally twisted around in her seat to look up at him. He'd grown taller during the break. Quite a bit, in fact. She'd noticed this change before, what with her surreptitious staring and everything, but up close, she realized just how much.

There was a healthy tan to his skin, his muscles had started filling out in all the right places, thanks to his diligence towards Quidditch, and his jaw-line had become more pronounced, sharper, and the shadow of stubble lined his face.

He suddenly looked more man than boy.

Lily's stomach tightened and she shushed the part of her mind that was utterly hormonal and found this change very very pleasing.

"Sure," she said, standing up and shouldering her school bag. Potter didn't exactly look at her as he nodded his head and walked out of the great hall, leaving Lily to follow behind him.

"I'll see you in class," she told Mary with a wave, conveying with her eyes that she was just as perplexed by this whole situation as her friend.

Lily didn't know what she had been expecting, but when Potter exited the great hall, and instead of stopping near the entrance, continued on ahead without looking back at her, she frowned. She was still meant to be following him, wasn't she?

He led her through first flight of stairs, then the second, and Lily coughed, hoping to remind him that she was still there. But he gave no indication of being startled, didn't even turn around, and she was growing more and more suspicious by the second.

Just as she'd started to wonder if this was some elaborate prank and whether he would suddenly turn towards her with green goo spurting from the end of his wand, Potter stopped in a secluded hallway and faced her.

His eyes rose to meet hers finally, and he honest to God cringed.

"Um…"

"Hi, uh…" he faltered, his shoulders tense and rigid. He ran a hand through his hair, and almost immediately, froze up and dropped it. It was quite comical that now it was Lily who wincing, remembering what she'd said to him to cause that kind of a reaction.

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick…"

"Potter—"

"No, wait," Potter shook his head, holding up a hand, and Lily held her tongue. "Let me speak. I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now, and I just couldn't find the words."

"Okay…?" Lily raised a dubious brow, sincerely hoping that he didn't ask her out because she neither had the will nor the energy to say no again. Even though…well, even though her unreasonable heart always beat just a little bit harder whenever he tossed the question her way with that half-hopeful, half-mischievous glint in his eyes.

Bah humbug, what the hell did hearts know anyway?

Pretentious little shits they were.

"I'm really, really sorry Lily."

Lily. Again.

"What?" She frowned. "Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

Lily fleetingly wondered if it was an apology-in-advance for a prank that was about to come, and immediately braced herself.

"For everything. For what happened after OWLs last term, mostly, but also for…everything else," Potter said, and Lily's mind reeled. "I've always acted like such a dunce around you, been an absolute shit-head. I didn't mean to—you don't—I shouldn't have—" He stopped, took a deep breath, and continued again, "I guess what I'm saying is that you're the only person other than my mom or Sirius to ever refuse to tolerate my bullshit, and that's always made me kinda crazy. And it was wrong of me to ever feel that just because I liked you, you had to like me back as well."

Her face was glowing red by the time he'd finished, and Lily shook her head. This apology of his was putting everything she'd known about James Potter at a risk, and she was having trouble controlling her heartbeat. But she could contemplate on what exactly all of this meant later. For now, somehow all Lily wanted to do was to get rid of that miserable expression from his face.

"You…don't need to apologize," She said at length, but then a small smile slipped across her face, "okay, well, maybe just a little bit."

James chuckled, though even that sounded forced. "I figure an apology doesn't make up for everything I've done. What happened with Snape—"

"Don't beat yourself up over that," Her voice came out harder than she'd expected, "it was a long time coming, and I was just fooling myself thinking he was my friend. Everything he stands for, what his friends do—I'd always made excuses for him, but that was the last straw."

"I'm not going to defend that git, but I shouldn't have been such an arsehole either."

"No arguments there," she said ruefully.

"I'm sorry."

Lily sighed, taking two steps closer, and consequently having to crane her neck up to look at him. "Look, I'm no saint myself, and you're not the only one at fault here. I shouldn't have said what I did about you being like Sev—Snape. I know you'd never, you know, call me a Mudblood."

"Don't use that word."

Lily shrugged, a half-smile slipping across her face. "It's only bothersome if I believe it to be true."

And then he was grinning, a blinding, toothy smile that was so different, so honest and boyish, and unlike any smirk he'd thrown her way over the years. To put it simply, Lily felt her brain turn to mush.

She blinked, and tried to rein in the awe she felt, but wasn't sure how successful she was because James Potter honest-to-God looked…beautiful.

"You really are something else, Evans."

"Lily."

"What?"

"What?" Lily breathed, and then immediately frowned when she realized—much to her mortification—that it was only she who could have spoken other than him. She distinctly did not remember giving her mouth the permission to do so. Oh, Merlin. Clearly there was no going back now. "I mean…um, you called me Lily. Like, before. Twice."

"I did."

"And just now, you called me Evans." She was pretty sure her face was on fire.

"Yeah." His grin was transforming slowly into a smirk again, and though Lily missed the openness of that previous smile, she couldn't dislike the mischief of this one, Merlin help her. "That's your name, isn't it?"

"Well, technically, it's my last name."

"What exactly are you saying?" There was definitely laughter shining in his eyes now.

Lily tried, but couldn't summon any feeling of affront. "Why did you? Call me Lily, I mean?"

"Would you rather I didn't?"

"No!" She replied, way too fast and way too vehemently, and immediately berated herself when his eyebrows shot up and his smirk widened. Clearly, one of them was having the time of their life because of this conversation. "I mean, that's not what I meant."

"No?" He leaned against the corridor wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Lily tried; she really tried to not let her eyes linger on his broad shoulders and strong-looking arms. "Then what did you mean?"

"It's just, I'm glad we're putting things behind us, and I don't want to read too much into it, but you calling me Lily—does it by any chance mean anything?"

"Do you want it to mean something?"

Lily frowned, shifting her weight onto her left leg. "Why do you have to be so insufferable?"

"Just so I can hear you call me out on it."

"I—" She blushed, realizing she had no answer for this, and backtracked. "Well, I want it to maybe possibly mean that we could become friends? Perhaps?"

"Think you could fit in a couple more adverbs for uncertainty in there?" He chuckled, and then pushed off from the wall to stalk even closer to her. Lily was acutely aware of the measly distance remaining between them now. "Maybe? Possibly? Perhaps?"

Lily took a step back then, her blush refusing to fade as her heart thundered away against her rib-cage.

He exhaled heavily, ran a hand through his hair and smiled sheepishly. "I think we'd better head to class soon. Slughorn loves us, but I doubt he'd be so lenient as to allow us in after only five minutes of class remain."

And then he was off, brushing past her and down the corridor. He'd taken about two steps before Lily was able to find her voice. "Wait! You didn't answer—"

"I'd love to be your friend, Evans," He turned around, walking backward with a smirk etched onto his face. "For now."

Lily's pulse skittered, and for the first time ever, she didn't have a lightning-fast retort ready on the tip of her tongue to crush his hopes away. She reasoned that he hadn't technically asked her out, though she doubted she fooled anyone from the way his hazel eyes lit up. What he didn't know, however, was that she would've actually considered it if he'd asked her properly now.

But Lily just smiled softly and started walking too, and she laughed at the thought of how the pair of them, James Potter and Lily Evans, with one walking backward and one walking forward, would have looked to someone making their way past them.

"What?" He asked, smiling as she laughed.

"Nothing," Lily shook her head and hiked the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. "Just wondering what chaos being friends with you will bring along."

"Are you concerned?"

"Alarmingly, not as much as I should be," she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. "Although, what concerns me is that if we're going to be doing this, it'd only be proper for you to call me Lily rather than Evans."

"Aw, but I quite like Evans." He chuckled. "Not even sometimes?"

"Oh well, fine then, if you insist."

"I do," he grinned, "And I also insist that you call me James, then. It's only fair."

"James," she tried, the name rolling off her tongue softly, effortlessly, like she was meant to use it all along. It didn't accompany the usual derision or exasperation, just an innocent sort of curiosity and tenderness, and Lily had never truly appreciated just how nice of a name it was, how the grandness, timelessness of it suited the boy in front of her. "You've got yourself a deal."

His face was something of a marvel to behold. James's eyes crinkled at the corners, a small dimple forming as his boyish smile returned with full force, and Lily was completely exposed to the phenomenon, a poor unsuspecting target. "Alright then Lily, I'll see you in class."

He nodded, waved, turned around, and then he was gone. There was a noticeable lightness about him, a bounce to his steps that hadn't previously been there. Lily gathered he had to go meet up with the Marauders and assure them—especially Remus—that he hadn't royally fucked up.

"James," she repeated quietly to herself, biting her lip around a grin as she remembered his honest smile and sincere apology. And if her heart fluttered a bit and she felt happier than she had in a while…well, no one had to know that.

No, he hadn't fucked up at all. But she was well on her way to being screwed.

With a final sigh and a shake of her head, Lily Evans headed off to her Potions class, and consequently towards an adventurous year of everything that constituted being James Potter's friend.

And a teensy bit of something more.