Chapter One

It was one of those days.

Fall had cast a cool chill across the countryside and even in the magically warmed castle, cold still crept over her skin; goose bumps littered like the wildflowers she loved to see cascade down the hills and pool in the valleys outside her window. Now she saw nothing but the burnt auburn color of the leaves marking the swift approach of winter. Lily sighed as she looked out the window of the Gryffindor common room, taking a momentary break from her studies. Autumn made Transfiguration pale in comparison and her body ached to be outside before the last rays of sunlight became shadows on the moor. In the distance she could see the Quidditch pitch as her classmates tossed around quaffles and tried to avoid being hit by the brutes of the Quidditch world, the bludgers.

This moment, she realized, had all of the potential to be perfect. The musky smell of age coming off of her borrowed Transfiguration textbook had combined with the pale orange of the room, making this moment an artistically beautiful moment. She knew that all good things must eventually come to an end, but with this end quickly approaching as the orange deepened to a near red, she felt the need to lament. When this very moment was over, it would only mean one thing – she was much too close to having to complete patrols.

Looking up at the clock mounted on the wall, she saw that she was in fact, correct. It was six in the evening, only four hours of sanity remained for tonight.

In the last couple of months since the year began, she had learned more about the irrational behaviors of James Potter than she had ever thought she would have wished to know. With his new position as Head Boy, Lily had hoped that she would be overwhelmed by responsibility ebbing in waves from her fellow seventeen-year-old. She was crushed with disappointment to find that she was wrong.

She really hated to be wrong.

So did James, however; which really seemed to be where most of their problems stemmed from. The stubborn young man had never learned how to take no for an answer, and as Lily continuously pushed him to be a good role model for the younger students in the castle, James found himself torn between doing the right thing and doing the fun thing. Having such a mischievous best friend really tore him in two. At least, that's what Lily liked to pretend was happening. She had heard far too many conversations between the pair, without featuring the slightest objection due to morals or responsibility, which detailed plans she as sure would cause the Headmaster's hair to curl.

Pushing her own hair out of her face and behind her ear, she shut her textbook with a soft snap. She was exhausted from staring at the same words over and over again and she was certain that if she attempted to read another page further, the entire book would cease to be in English. Though, admittedly, a large portion was actually the Latin description of spells.

She set the book down by the rest of her things and stood from the plush chair. As her body stretched to her full height, the muscles in her limbs strained and another soft sigh emitted from her lips. She had no idea how long she had been curled up in that chair, but the protests her body kept making were proof enough that it was time to move on to other things. She cast another glance out the window as her limbs settled from the unfamiliar movement. The sun had completely disappeared from the skyline leaving nothing but the slight shape of the moon beginning to rise from the horizon and a slight dusting of stars beginning to emerge in the sky. She figured she should make her way downstairs to get something to eat for dinner; after all, one cannot verbally spar on an empty stomach.

The hall was bursting with energy. There was a Quidditch match this coming weekend and a Hogsmeade trip the following weekend. It seemed that attentions were drawn more to what Quidditch players stood the best chance and what each person would wear out to the quaint little village.

The familiar face of her roommate, Bertha Jorkins, smiled at her and gestured to an empty spot on the bench beside her. Lily took the designated spot as she made her way through the buffet style plates in front of her. As was usual for fall, she spotted various different types of game hens and some delicious vegetable and potato dishes. If the autumn scenery didn't make her fall in love with the season, the food certainly would.

Bertha quickly engaged the redheaded young woman in similar conversations as the ones filtering through the Great Hall, glazing very cautiously over the subject of patrolling with Potter that night. Yes, Potter. Lily's friends were of the belief that if they did not address him directly by name, then the anger that would sprout from Lily would be decreased tenfold. They were wrong, of course, but it was sometimes humorous to see their faces after they realized they had let his first name slip out. She had disputed the fact that she was trying to treat him more as an equal – her co-pilot, so to speak – but they didn't listen.

As the desserts began to disappear, she frowned. Not because she wished she would have grabbed for the last éclair nestled between some lace containers on the plate in front of her (though now she was thinking just that) but because with the end of the meal, came the reminder that she could now count the hours until patrolling on one hand. Worse than that, she didn't even need all of the fingers on that hand to do so. Patting the corners of her mouth with her napkin before setting it down on top of her now empty plate, she looked smiled at Bertha and the two agreed to chat again tomorrow before class on the status of this evening's patrol. Lily supposed that Bertha was not only curious if any drama with James would emerge, but also if they happened to find any classmates snogging in the Astronomy tower or an abandoned classroom again.

The worst part about the hours between patrolling and dinner were that Lily had nothing to do, and no desire to return to the homework she had been working on earlier in the day. She could go back to the common room and join the gossip, flip through magazines charting the latest trends and styles, or even write in her journal – a hobby she had been severely lacking on for … years. None of it seemed appealing at all. Instead, she opted to return to her dormitory and change out of her uniform, something she had neglected to do earlier in the day. Sometimes, the familiarity and the comfort of having her attire chosen for her far overshadowed the fun of putting together her own stylish outfit.

After setting aside a pair of camel colored pants with wide openings near the feet and a cream turtleneck sweater, she called it good enough. Pairing her outfit with a small gold necklace of a lily of the valley that her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday, she made one final look into the mirror. She looked pretty. Brushing her long red hair over her shoulder, she straightened out her necklace, hiding the clasp beneath the back of the fold of the sweater and tugged the hemline down more firmly over the waistband of her pants.

But then she froze.

She wasn't getting dressed for James Potter, was she?

No, she shook her head and laughed at herself, drawing the attention of the two girls who had been in the room, rifling through their own clothing for the perfect Hogsmeade outfit, though the trip was still two weeks away. Lily looked at her reflection again. She was seventeen, it was only right that she was concerned about her appearance when she was about to step out of the dormitory into a room full of classmates that had almost entirely ever seen her in her uniform. With a curt, final nod, she told herself to shut up. Grasping her wand in her hand she smiled at the girls in the room and said her goodbyes before walking back down to the common room to wait out the last hour or so.

The time went by quickly as she had not hesitated to engage herself in conversation with the female, seventh year Gryffindor prefect about how patrols had been going before being reduced to conversation about how cute Lily's outfit was, which regressed into the trends of the year – both magical and muggle. She was laughing when James cleared his throat quite loudly, smirk perched on his lips.

"Head Girl, dear, it's nearly five-past, don't you think we should be on our way?" The way that he stood there, looking at her as though she had done something wrong, was already beginning this night of patrols off on the wrong foot.

Lily smiled at the prefect, excused herself and made her way over to the smirking Head Boy. "I'm sorry I'm tardy to walking over to the other side of the room, but you could have interrupted sooner, as you saw it fit to do so just a moment ago."

"Ah, yes. I could have," he was still smirking, an annoying, pretentious trait of his, "But I was not here sooner."

She shook her head before blinking up at him. "Shall we?"

"We shall," he nodded and then held an arm wide to his side to gesture that she should lead the way out of the portrait hole.

Once they were outside, they fell into silence. It was far more comfortable than shouting at each other, though it was also very strange. Since when did James Potter have nothing to say? Since when did Lily Evans bide her time beside him by staring off into space and surrounding herself with thoughts of why James Potter wasn't talking to her?

She opened her mouth to speak but found no words forming, opting to stay silent herself. They made their way up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower and Lily paid more attention to the artwork lining the halls that ever before. It was a portrait of a familiar scene that actually caused her to stop for a moment, however, as James continued down the hall to the stairs without even noticing. The painting depicted six people, three couples. The first couple she spotted was engulfed in light, edging away from one another but both still spying upon the other two couples. The two couples in the center appeared to be playing some sort of game, with the women being shifted from one man to another and the men chasing after the women they must have chosen as their own.

A Midsummer Night's Dream, Lily smiled at the thought. She was going to direct the men to the correct women, as detailed by the play, but there was no sense in breaking their fun. After all, in the time that the painting had been there, she could not have been the first person that thought of giving them directions – and here they were, still chasing after the wrong women, or rather – the right women, depending on how one looked at it.

"Lily! Come on, keep up!" James' voice called down the corridor and she hustled to catch up with him. "Get lost, or something?" The familiar smirk appeared on his lips.

She shook her head, "Just looking at some paintings. There are some here I hadn't noticed before. I didn't know we had muggle stories on the walls."

James did not seem to care and instead continued through the rooms at the top of the tower. When they found no one and nothing out of place, they turned to make their way back down the stairs. It was then that Lily's legs became entangled in the spare fabric around her feet, the bell shape of the pants, she had heard it called. She felt everything move in slow motion as she knocked James over like a pair of domino chips. They tumbled from stair to stair before hitting the bottom and causing James to face plant right into the very painting Lily had been looking at just moments before. The painting fell on top of them, giving the pair only seconds to try to catch their breath before the feeling of falling took over them again.

Wait – Lily thought, There aren't any stairs here.

But they were falling, and falling, and she thought of the tales of Alice falling into Wonderland before her body smacked something hard. Please be James, she hoped, as explanation of her landing. She wiggled her fingers a little, to inspect the fabric beneath her. Her fingertips didn't graze cotton or any other fabric she knew how however, instead what she felt was … grass?