Chapter One

It was late one night, in the middle of summer break. Lily Evans sits alone in her little bedroom, her mind straying to a certain hazel eyed boy with unruly black hair. She hasn't seen James Potter since school got out – which was 48 days ago, not that she's counting – and she hasn't heard from him since. But, obviously, Lily Evans doesn't care. James Potter is just an annoying boy that she cannot stand. Or, that's what she tells people.

As the heat of the summer presses against her, she pulls her long, fiery-red hair back in a pony-tail, so the heavy strands won't stick to her damp forehead. Her mind wanders the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, wishing she was there instead of the uneventful town filled with muggles, where she currently sits. The only other wizard that lives near her is Severus, and right now she is angry at him, because he called her a mudblood.

The word makes Lily's eyes burn. She can't help who her parents are, and they can't help that they aren't magical. She'd always thought Severus understood her – he was her friend. And yet he'd called her… that word, when even James Potter hadn't!

There you go again, Lily; thinking about Potter. She flipped over restlessly on her bed, angry that yet again her thoughts had roamed to him. She does not like James Potter, and she does not want to think about him.

A tapping at her window makes her gasp and jump up, only to see a small, tawny owl drumming its beak against the window. That's odd… Who sends mail this late? She rolls out of bed, her half-crazed from lack of sleep mind eager to find out who would write her.

She pulls the window open quietly, not wanting to wake Petunia. The owl drops a letter at her feet, looking at her with its big eyes. She runs her fingers over its soft feathers, and then quickly tears the letter open. She doesn't recognize the handwriting, and there's no return address, but the note quickly reveals its sender.

Dear Lily,

Um, hi Lily. It's James.

I know this is random, and maybe even weird, and I apologize, but school's been out for over two months, and I haven't seen you, and… Well, in all honesty, I miss you. A lot.

I know I say this to you all the time, but I'm really crazy about you. I think I say it so often that you don't quite understand what it means. So, I decided to write this letter to you, explaining what I mean when I tell you that I love you, and I hope this clears things up.

Lily Evans, you are beautiful. I love everything about you, from your bright red hair, to the attitude you have to match it. I love the way you face lights up when I compliment you, even when you pretend that you don't care. I love it when you sit under the big shady tree by the great lake, how you tune out the rest of the world, not noticing me sitting next to you.

I love how smart you are, and how you're not afraid to pay attention in class, instead of dozing off just to impress everyone else in the room.

You are kind to everyone in school that doesn't give you a reason not to, and I admit that my friends and I have given you a reason to hate us. (By the way, I apologize again for setting your cat on fire all those years ago. In our defense, we didn't kill her, and you have to admit, that counts for something.) But I love how you stick up for the kids no one else would dare talk to, and I wish I was brave enough to do the same.

I could go on forever, listing out every little thing I love about you, Lily, and if you say the word, I will. But right now, I just wanted to tell you, once again, that you're the only girl on my mind, and ask you for the millionth time if you would go out with me, just once? If you don't have a good time, and I'm not a complete gentleman, you never have to look at my miserable face again, I swear. (Except for Transfiguration class, because I sit by you…But I could wear a bag on my head, if it was that awful of a date…?)

Please, Lily Evans?

Go out with me?

-James Potter

Lily could not stop smiling. She felt as if she were glowing; she could practically see a faint outline of white light surrounding her body.

She knew she could not deny James a date after this letter; he had spilled his heart and soul out in front of her, and she liked everything she saw. Lily liked him – and if she was being honest with herself, she would say that she had liked him for a while before.

Many years from this night, when asked when she first realized that she was in love with James Potter, this night was always the memory she shared.