A/N: Written for the Hedley challenge at Harry Potter Fan fiction Challenges.

Disclaimer: The lyrics are perfect by Hedley (all of them in italics)

Perfect.

James Potter belonged to the elite and not simply in the sense of Hogwarts' cliques. He belonged to a high end family, a pureblood and well respected among the wizarding social ladder. At his beloved school, Hogwarts, he was a marauder. And being a marauder was the highest form of respect you could bestow upon someone. Of course, it didn't make sense to bestow honor upon your own self, because he along with his friends had formed the group, but rarely anything that James Potter did made sense. He wasn't built for sense. He was born for impulse.

And it was on an impulse that he said those words, words that he wished to take back the moment he said them. Those words gave him a sound smack across the cheek. He accepted it, he knew he deserved it. Those words, his words were the reason he was in a dark musty corner of Hogwarts, all alone, silently crying. School's quidditch hero, their sweetheart was crying alone in a corner.

It had been a silly fight, something so trivial and he had turned it into a big deal. She had been late for their meeting. It wasn't her bloody fault, she had too much homework to do- bloody hell, and he had plenty himself. She had been in the library studying and she lost track of time. She had been late and they had barely got together three days ago. He had been ecstatic with joy. She had brought him the happiest moment of his life. Did it matter if she had been late?

He knew she was afraid of being with him. He knew she was afraid they wouldn't work out because Merlin knew they had spent six years bickering like three year old children. But they had agreed; they had agreed to give their relationship a shot. He had convinced her that they would work out. He would prove her they were not a mistake.

Making every kind of silence, takes a lot to realize

It's worse to finish than to start all over and never let it lie.

He had finished his practice early, excited to meet her. Their relationship wasn't out in the open yet. She had been nervous about it and he personally wanted them all to himself. He had earned it, having waited for that moment since years. They were supposed to meet in the unused classroom beside history of magic. The only person to ever use the corridor after hours was professor Binns and he wouldn't have spared them a second glance should they have been having sex. Not that they would do anything of the sort. They liked to talk and occasionally indulge in a kiss but mostly talk. He was surprised how much the pair of them could chatter about.

He sat around in the empty classroom, his feet dangling off his desk, his fingers tapping across the wooden seat on their own accord. He glanced at the watch on his wrist every few seconds. She was late and it was supposed to be their first date (if it could be called as one?). The minutes ticked past. She was nearly twenty minutes late. He knew she liked to be punctual. Maybe she wasn't planning on coming at all. She was going to stand him up. He bet she was having a laugh with her friends. Maybe their whole relationship was a façade. He didn't know from where he was having these thoughts, they seemed to be settling themselves in his mind out of nowhere. He was at crossroads. A better part of his mind was telling him that Lily would never do anything of that sort but there were these thoughts and they were filling up his mind.

He had almost given up and was considering going out to the pitch for a ride to clear his mind when he heard footsteps and she came running around the corner. She stopped right in front of him, her hands clutching her stomach, her breath coming in wheezes. So she hadn't stood him up but she had clearly forgotten about them.

"I'm sorry, I was the library, finishing that essay and I lost track of time." She spoke when her breath finally stabilized. "They really should put a clock in there." She smiled, nudging him slightly but he didn't smile. His face was passive, lips forming a tight line.

"What's wrong James?" she asked, biting her lip slightly.

"Wrong! What's wrong? Nothing's wrong Lily, everything is just bright and dandy." He nearly spat at her.

"C'mon James! You're not mad. Don't ruin this." She pleaded.

"Well, you've already ruined it. It was supposed to be perfect, our first date. But it doesn't matter because you didn't remember the time. You didn't care enough." He accused her, all his fears and hurt spilling into words.

"James, I said I am sorry. Why are we fighting?" Tears were threatening to form in her eyes.

"It isn't enough Lily. I was here ten minutes early. I couldn't focus on quidditch because of you and you chose a fucking essay over me." He practically yelled.

"It's not like that. I was trying to keep my mind of you by studying. I didn't want to seem too desperate." She said her voice choking.

"So now I'm desperate."

"Don't put words in my mouth James, you're making a big issue out of this. It's not like you're the king of punctuality."

"Whatever. May be you are right, may be this is a big mistake." He said bitingly, his eyes averted to the ground.

What he didn't expect however, was Lily's tears to disappear in a pool of anger. She slapped him across the face.

"How could you?" she whispered, walking away.

When you're caught in a lie, and you've got nothing to hide,
When you've got nowhere to run, and you've got nothing inside.
It tears right through me, you thought that you knew me, you thought that you knew.

Lily Evans was the definition of perfect. Her hair was the perfect shade of red; her eyes were brilliant emerald green. She was kind and helpful, but rude and refreshing. She was smart, brilliant and submitted her essays on time but she didn't suck up on teachers. The only people in entire of Hogwarts to dislike her were Slytherins and only because they despised her blood. They did so, only because of her house. It was obvious, Lily was perfect.

But she rarely ever felt it. She wasn't drenched in insecurity but she didn't feel perfect. She knew she wasn't. She accepted it. She embraced it. It was this quality of hers that James felt made her perfect. It was only one time that she wished she were perfect. She wished she had enough sense to check the time and she wished that she would've thought of reaching their destined location early. She wished she would've have understood that this date held much more expectations for him than her. She wished she were perfect so that he wouldn't have said what he did. No one can resist a perfect person, right? No one fought with perfect people, right?

Was it something I said or just my personality?

She was honestly surprised by James' reaction. She might've expected him to be slightly put out but he was really angry. That was not the James she had agreed to go out with, that was not the James she was starting to fall for. She fell down in a heap across the corridor, not the best place for her to cry but she was devastated. He always said she was perfect. But perhaps, it wasn't that she was perfect but simply that she was perfect for him.

Maybe, a part of her reasoned, he never found her perfect, just perfect enough for himself. And when she turned up late, maybe he realized that she wasn't even perfect for her. She knew she wasn't. He felt she was perfect; he had unrealistic expectations about her that led to their fight.

How could he not know that she wasn't perfect? The closest she had ever come to opening up to someone was him. She was a broken inside, she thought he knew that. Beneath her mask, she was cracked and broken and utterly imperfect. He should've known she wasn't perfect. But she liked him and so she tried so hard for him.

I'm not perfect, but I keep trying
'Cause that's what I said I would do from the start

Utter, absolute waste.

May be you are right, may be this is a big mistake.

How could he say that, those words that she feared so deeply? He knew it was a low blow; she knew he had aimed it as such. She choked back a sob as she heard footsteps. James knew he had to make up for his mistake, he knew he had been irrational, he knew he had to do something to make her forgive him. Would she forgive him? Would she still give them a chance?

And as long as I can feel you holding on
I won't fall, even if you said I was wrong

"Lily?" he asked gently, dropping down on his knees beside her. "I'm so sorry honey." He whispered, placing a cautious hand over hers. Her head, buried in her arms, lifted slowly to look at him. Her green eyes eyed him hesitantly.

I just know we can't be over, I can see it in your eyes

"I'm so sorry." He whispered again, tracks the tears had left across his cheeks visible in the dull light.

"I'm sorry too." She whispered back, sniffling slightly. "I didn't mean to discard our date."

"I know you didn't. I know you care." He smiled slightly.

She smiled back slowly.

May be she didn't need to be perfect after all. May be he knew she was imperfect, even for him and may be, she allowed the possibility, that he liked her all the same.

May be they would fight plenty, may be they would spend nights like these, crying. But he would never again doubt that she cared. He would never again make the same mistake twice. She knew it didn't matter if he did, she would forgive him a million times because she knew he didn't mean it. Because he would always find her and make up for his fault.

Maybe, they would turn out fine.