Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I'm just purely obsessed.

Author's Note: So I haven't written any Harry Potter fanfiction in a while, but I got this idea from a school project. I'm not sure if I'll continue, I suppose depending on the feedback. Anyways please review and tell me what you think!

Summary: When Lily and James, who still aren't on good terms, are forced to work together on a fairytale, for Muggle Studies Class, one based on love, they find themselves writing about their own love journey, although completely oblivious to it.

Chapter One

The sun was beating against the glass, only reminding me that while others were outside soaking up vitamin D, I was stuck in here, listening to the professor drone on. It seemed silly, I mused. I was muggle-born, and therefore I already knew all about muggle type things, the reason they used electricity, it wasn't really hard to understand, and why doctors worked in such morbid ways. But a part of me, alright, most of me, had insisted on taking the NEWT level class of Muggle Studies. Not only was it an easy grade to obtain, not that that was the only reason I'd picked it, it was the one class I had assumed he wouldn't be in.

I had assumed wrong.

Whether he had picked up the class knowing I had chosen it as well, was still fuzzy to me, not totally clear. But Potter wasn't the type to savor lessons, soak up information and be grateful for it. Oh no, he spent his time being the heartthrob of most of the girls in the school, and could easily be found basking in the glory of it all. It was honestly sickening. His ego was so inflated; it was a miracle that he could even keep his head up. Really, it was bigger than that friend of his, that chubby quiet one.

Despite his school celebrity status, he stuck on me like glue, and when most girls would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he did the things he to me to them, I was different. I found him repulsive, the way he strutted around school, and the way he obtained anything he pleased. One thing he didn't get though and he never would, no matter how many times he'd tell he would, and that was me. I wouldn't let him get to me. He treated me like I was the forbidden fruit of Hogwarts; maybe he was a little stupid, because when it came to being forbidden, he definitely didn't find me to be that.

I reeled my brain back into the lesson and found the professor chatting away animatedly at the bored. I squinted my eyes to find words scattered across the board in a messy scrawl. Fairytales was the main subject, something I knew practically everything about. Being a girl, and growing up in the muggle word, it was hard not to. "…and fairytales have been part of muggle history for thousands of years. Most of which had been remade to fit the modern dynamic of the world today. They are most popular among young girls, although boys can enjoy a few, too."

I shook my head as I heard roaring laughter erupt from that area. There was nothing wrong with boys liking fairytales, okay well not a lot wrong. When it died down, she cleared her throat again, and spoke, "Can anybody name a few?" Her eyes instantly locked onto me, fully aware that i would probably know all of them.

Instead of fighting her desire for me to answer, I raised my hand and said quietly, "Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty are just a few."

"Yes, very good and Lily, could you tell us what the difference is between a fairytale and a regular muggle story?"

I weighed my words hesitantly, making sure I hit every point exactly, "A difference between a fairytale and a regular muggle story is that a fairytale is composed of magical creatures, those imagined by muggles, and often has a moral message. On the other hand, a normal muggle story doesn't necessarily have to have either one, although it can but not be considered an actual fairytale."

"Very good," she praised, a smile etched upon her face, "now, I've planned an assignment based on the study of fairytales, and honestly, I'm sure you'll all be quite favorable of it." I silently groaned; how a fairytale seemed to be a big factor in the muggle world wasn't quite clear. Just throw in a damsel in distress and some noble knight to save her and you would get the clichéd fairytale, enough to drive any young girl in a squealing fit.

I could hear the snickers, even miles away, but this time they were much too close. "Looks like Miss Evans enjoyed fairytales quite a bit, don't you think?" Sirius's voice was burning with intense sarcasm.

I shot my head back, letting a dirty look draw itself onto my face. James grinned before he spoke, his voice reeking of pure excitement, "Lily, your hair looks really pretty today."

I grimaced before retorting, "Shut up, Potter." It was the tip of September, only a few days into the year, but already I knew that it would be much too long of a year. And while my seventh year had drawbacks, my last year residing at Hogwarts, the advantages easily outweighed them, no more Potter was just as good, if not better, than winning the lottery.

I spun back into my seat, knocking several of their papers onto the ground, not minding to any one of them. Perhaps that would shut them up, but knowing Potter, not even a glacier, or something as absurd as a bomb ready to blow him up, would shut him up, especially when it came to me. I focused back onto the professor as she stood at her desk, her hands shuffling through a pile of papers, all of which were neatly stacked in some sort of order.

After retrieving a piece of parchment with messy scrawl upon it, she looked up at the class as she held the parchment close. "Alright, alright," she said, trying to hinder the conversations that flew around the room, most of which centered around the stupid Quidditch game approaching, "you'll be working in pairs."

Eyes around the room lit up, considerably. I glanced at Alice, and she gave me a reassuring look, more than enough to tell me that I wasn't going to get stuck with someone. That someone being a very overzealous adolescent boy. "I will be choosing," she amended breaking everybody's excitement to work on the assignment, all the effort was no long gone on everyone's part, "you'll have one week to complete this story, which should include magical creatures, ones that muggles believe to exist, or used to. We did study this, so it should be no problem. A moral, one that is easy to understand, but certainly not obvious."

She passed the parchment off to a brunette who seemed deep in thought, probably concerned about who her partner would be. She squealed in delight as she passed it to the girl sitting beside her. I sat there idly playing with my quill, trying not to dwell to much on whom my partner would be. It could just as easily be Alice, as it could be Potter. I threw that away from my mind and turned to her. "What's yours going to be on?"

"I don't know, I guess I'll have to discuss with it my partner," she replied, not fully paying attention, but craning her neck to see where the parchment was, "maybe something loosely based off of Cinderella, after learning about it, I particularly enjoy it. "

"Yeah, me too," I mumbled turning back to the front of the classroom.

I let my mind wander around for a moment, making a list of what needed to be done, in my head. I still had several NEWT practice papers to complete, a letter home to my mum, and I hadn't finished the prefect patrolling schedules. Although the NEWTS were a few months away, it still seemed like there wasn't enough time. On top of my intense study sessions, of which I was proud of having the discipline of doing so, I had to keep Alice in track. I had to make sure she wasn't too busy gushing over Frank's picture.

It was sickening the way she stared at his photos for literally hours, how someone could feel that intense was still a mystery. I had always seen the way my parents acted with another, the way my dad made sure my mum was alright, that she was comfortable, but honestly, most men today acted more like boys. I never exactly criticized love, never said that it wasn't real, but more of so never quite believed it to be that great. I couldn't imagine the feeling some people felt, the feeling knowing you could spend forever with one person, and never get tired of them. Surely, it had to wear off sometime.

My racing thoughts were soon interrupted by the parchment flying at me. Alice was glowing, pure ecstasy painted across her pretty face. I grasped it in my hands, and ran my eyes over the list. "Lily Evans, Lily Evans," I muttered, more to myself than anybody, as I ran my finger down the list for my name. During the expedition in searching for my name, I saw that Alice had been paired with Frank, and knowing Alice she'd play it off as she really wanted us to be partners, but sometimes things just happened. What a load of bull.

I found my name, illegible writing that made it look more like Lila Evers, but quickly ignored that and pushed my finger along the horizontal line that connected my name to my partner's. Most of the students were bustling about, meeting up with their partners to discuss their fairytales, only a few left sitting down waiting for the parchment.

As much as I wanted to study who was left, the paper was snatched out of my hands before I could see who my partner was. Sirius grinned, "What's taking so long, Evans? Did you forget how to read?" His snickers, in some unfathomable way, were still enough to make a girl's head spin. Any girl, except for me.

He looked silently at the paper before roaring into a pit of laughter, as if the names or who partner was worthy of laughing, of wasting breath. Sirius, still holding his stomach from the laughter that was erupting throughout it, threw the paper back up in the air, before running off to the brunette who had squealed in the beginning. Her face grew redder by the second, as he merely touched her hand. I almost felt bad, felt bad that she'd fail this class because of him.

I seized the paper, before anyone else could, and found my name again. Hastily, I ran my finger along the line to the name of my partner. And then it seemed like the world had stopped, like I couldn't breathe, like I'd rather die than work with this creature. My held was bubbling with a plethora of thoughts, all of which contained vulgar words.

My hand trembled uncontrollably as I set the paper down, my face redder than my hair. If I wasn't in a classroom full of people, I'd be hyperventilating. I peered at the professor, and I could feel more obscene thoughts rush through my mind, how, why did she have to put us together? Perhaps he had bribed, no, persuaded him with the charm some people believed he had, to put us together.

Before I could regain composure, he was by my side, grinning like a gorgeous fool. "Hiya, Lily," he chirped, full of excitement.

I glared at him, pushing my chair away, he was far too close. "What?" I retorted, my voice acidic.

"Now, don't be like that," he murmured, -did he honestly think he was calming me? - "we get to be partners."

"You say that like it's a good thing," I muttered.

"Because it most certainly is," he flipped a few pieces of parchment out of nowhere that I could see that was, and grabbed a quill, "I was thinking we could do a montage on our love story."

"You mean hatred, right?" I answered glumly. There was no point in throwing sardonic phrases at him, nothing seemed to faze him.

"Always the charmer," he scribbled a few phrases onto the parchment and turned back to me, "what were you thinking?"

"I don't know," I muttered.

He ignored me and perhaps he had some sort of creative burst. His hand ran wildly across the parchment, smearing most of the ink, but that was the least of his worries. And all the while, he looked so gracious doing so, as though he could be bleeding from opening of his body and still look gracious. Was that even possible? I wanted to set my thoughts on fire, James Potter was most certainly not gracious, and he was the farthest thing from that.

He was egotistical, a arse, a jerk, so many things that it would take me a month, maybe even a year, to name them. A week, I had to endure a week of Potter filled hell. Oh dear Merlin, this was not the way to start my seventh year. I glanced back at him, to see if he was done torturing the parchment, only to find him babbling, again, to himself. "…and the princess should have red hair, definitely, we want her to beautiful, and oh! The prince shouldn't be a frog, but a stag that you have to kiss!" I looked at him in disbelief, was he really that into this, as to change a frog into a stag. What difference did it make, and what was so special about a stag?

"And he should have black hair, no doubt," he finished, a smile plastered across his face. This was going to be the end of my life, no doubt, I concluded.

A/N: Lily doesn't know James is a stag, just incase that part was confusing. Anyways please review and tell me what you think! Should I continue?