A/N: Okay, I know I said I'd probably get to working on the James and Lily story over the weekend, but I kinda found the file on my computer and decided to finish the first chapter. R&R. Enjoy, everyone!

Disclaimer: I don't own HP

James Potter woke up on a Wednesday morning. He got out of bed, and looked over at the window, where it was a typically grey November day. He walked over to the mirror, where he kept his glasses. But slowly, as his vision adjusted to the dark room, his vision was sharp. Oh well, he thought. Must have fallen asleep in them again.

But when he looked in the mirror, he realized that it was something more than just falling asleep in his glasses. His eyes were a deep emerald green, far different from the dark hazel ones that people saw from underneath his glasses. His nose was smaller, the tip turning up ever so slightly, and his lips were a soft coral pink. His skin was ivory-toned, nothing like the deep tan he had gained from playing Quidditch. And when he habitually reached up to run his hand through his short, always-messy black hair, his hand got lost in a sea of red tresses.

He didn't want to admit it. He thought that maybe Prongs had cast a spell on the mirror to trick him. But then he looked down at his body. James Potter does not have curves. He looked down at the lavender cotton pajamas, and realization set in as he let out a scream.

Merlin's Pants.

I'm in Lily Evans' body.

On the other side of Gryffindor Tower, Lily Evans had just stepped out of bed. She tried to look around the room, but it was fuzzy and she couldn't make out anything. She reached around on the bedside table, trying to find her wand, trying to feel the soft willow. But instead, she came upon a pair of glasses with round frames. She held them up in front of her eyes, trying to figure out why they were there, but as she looked through them, her vision became clear. She put them on, blaming yesterday's Potion's class for the pungent-smelling potion they had to make, in which a lot of steam had gotten into her eyes. She wondered why they were there, and after several minutes of thinking, decided that Alice had left them there after waking up, the same thing happening to her. She walked over to the mirror to brush her long, red hair, but stopped short when she caught her reflection.

In the mirror, her hair wasn't its distinctive ruby red. It was short and black, sticking up all over the place. Her nose was twice as prominent as usual, and her lips weren't nearly as rosy as they had been yesterday. Her eyes were hazel, and her skin was exceptionally tanned, like she'd been outdoors and playing sports all day. As she looked at her body, she noticed the toned arms poking out from the Falthmouth Falcons t-shirt and felt the strain of the muscular legs from underneath the blue striped pajama pants. She touched her face, trying to see if it was real, and after prodding her face and her arms, she was convinced she was in James Potter's body.

What did I do to deserve this?

That was the most embarrassing thing I've ever done, James Potter thought after getting dressed as he walked down the stairs and into the Great Hall. He sat down at the Gryffindor table, where he noticed Alice Bowyer waving him over. He walked over to the table, attempting to put a smile on Lily's face, but it was probably turning out as more of a grimace.

"Good Morning, Lils! How'd you sleep?" Alice was extremely cheery, her spiky brown hair falling over her eyes and behind her ears. "I didn't sleep too well. My period got all over my bed, because I forgot it was coming." Merlin's pants, of all things, period problems. James slumped down in his seat, snatched up his fork and dove into the fried eggs he'd stacked on his plate while pretending to listen to Alice. He looked up, his mouth full of eggs, to see every set of female eyes in the fifth year staring at him. He dropped his fork, chewed, and swallowed. He flashed what he hoped was a sheepish smile at the girls, and made a mental note to take smaller bites.

Lily slouched down the staircase after getting dressed, a process made more embarrassing that it already was by discovering James didn't wear underpants to bed. She had flung open the drawers and grabbed the first sets of clothes she could find, resulting in a mess that was made even more embarrassing when Sirius Black woke up and got out of bed wearing nothing but his boxers. She had grabbed James' robe and tie, and ran out of the room as fast as she could.

As walked into the Great Hall, she tried to remember the way James walked, but all that came to her was "strutting" and "arrogant prat." She ran her hands through her hair, trying to imitate him, took a deep breath, and strutted into the dining hall. She spotted herself eating eggs like it was his last meal before a death sentence. It felt strange to see herself eating, like looking in a big mirror. But she would never slouch like that. But James Potter would, she reminded herself, taking a seat a few spots down from James and taking a couple of eggs. As she was about to dig in, she felt a hand poke her in the shoulder. She looked up, glaring, and saw James standing there in her body, wearing her skirt and her flats, running one hand through the long, tangled red hair that had obviously not been brushed, and rubbing his eyes with the other hand.

"Um, James," he began, his eyes darting back and forth to see who was watching. "We need to talk." James grinned, showing off the shimmering white, perfect teeth that she'd taken care of for three years before getting the metal ripped off last Easter break. And now James got to flaunt them like they were his.

"Whatever. I've got a free period after lunch." Lily turned back and started wolfing down her eggs, realized she was ravenous. She'd had a few minutes to herself before receiving another stab in the neck. She'd meant to cut her fingernails last night.

"What the hell do you-" She whipped her head around and saw little Peter Pettigrew standing there, quivering.

"S-s-s-sorry, Pr-r-rongs. I just wanted to-to t-t-tell you we're sitting over there." He pointed his long, dirty fingernails over in the direction of the other end of the table. She gave a sharp nod, and he scurried off.

She took a few more bites of her eggs, pushed her plate forward, and burped. She thought she'd done a good job playing James, until he glared at her as she walked by the table. Then she realized what she had to do to be believable as James.

You've got to be kidding me.

He loves her, so she has to...

I do not deserve this!