From the first day, Lily Evans was another pretty face that was wasted and tossed into Gryffindor. Lucius swore he would fall in love by his seventh year at Hogwarts, but it wouldn't happen if all the Slytherins were taken before he asked their names. He was /surely/ more attractive than James Potter, the one with the glasses, but why did first years never look past their noses? He saw first years fall in love with first years, and stay with them forever. But what if a first year fell in love with a seventh year? Even more unrealistic, what if a seventh year fell in love with a first year? Although he was a prefect, and a Slytherin at that, girls seemed to overlook him, but he never overlooked them. He knew all their names, but none of them knew his. This year, he was going to stiffen up and actually talk to one.
They started talking, and he fell in love. Lily Evans might've been a Gryffindor, but for some reason, she had captured his heart. Something about her innocence, or the way her hair fell in her face every time she studied, or maybe how her vibrant green eyes paralyzed the breath in his lungs. He would study with her, just so he could talk with her until she fell asleep on his shoulder on the floor in the library. He told her the corniest jokes, just to hear her laugh and see the smile that could illuminate a room.
He's so mysterious. Lily could never read his face, but she knew she was intrigued by his long blonde hair and his piercing silver eyes. He was much older than her, and their houses separated them, but there was something about him that made her want to be closer to him than anyone. She wasn't popular like he was, and he's was prefect, which would separate him from others due to a busy schedule and responsibility, but he seemed to drop everything to spend time with her. He could certainly do better, there were lots of girls that were much prettier than her, but he didn't pay them any attention. He would stay up with her until she couldn't stay awake and then he would let her fall asleep in his lap, or on his shoulder. He made her smile every day, even if all he could manage was a cheesy grin from the Slytherin table. He seemed like a charmer, not someone she should get involved with, but she couldn't stay away from his addicting surroundings, no matter how hard she tried. All it took was a 'hey, freckles' and her heart melted into his hands.
