Chapter 1:
It was cold, it was windy, and it was the last place Lily Evans wanted to be. Gripping her wand tightly beneath her cloak, she strode purposefully down to the Quidditch pitch. She could see the outline of James Potter on his broomstick soaring through the sky so fast he was just a blur. "Potter, get your lazy arse down here NOW!" Lily yelled, but the sound was lost in the wind. Potter wasn't even aware of Lily's presence. If he were, he would probably be doing barrel roles, trying vainly to impress her. She thought about trying again, but knew her attempt would be futile. Instead, she pulled out her wand and muttered a little jinx under her breath, and watched as Potter's broom jerked around. Then, without warning, he fell from his broom at least 30 feet to the ground. "Oh, no!" Lily ran towards James, lying spread-eagled on the ground. As she drew nearer, she could see that he was either unconscious or dead—she prayed it wasn't the latter. She quickly conjured up a stretcher, and with a flick of her wand, his body was placed on it, and the stretcher floated up to the castle.
"Madam Pomphrey, are you sure he's not…dead?" Lily kept a safe distance away from James's bed. He wasn't moving, and, if he was breathing, Lily couldn't tell.
"Of course, dear. He'll be up and at 'em in no time at all. It's a miracle he got away with only a broken collarbone, and leg. You don't happen to know how this happened, do you?" Lily fidgeted uneasily, and averted her gaze to the wall behind the nurse's head.
"Oh, well, after the meeting—you know, the one that all the prefects and Heads are supposed to go to—I went out to the pitch to find out why Pot—er, James wasn't there, and found him lying there. He, erm, must have fallen off his broom." Madam Pomphrey looked doubtful. James Potter, the best Chaser Hogwarts has ever seen, fall off his broom? That seemed highly unlikely, but the nurse didn't press the subject. With one last glance at Potter, she went into her office and shut the door. Just a few minutes later, Potter's eyes fluttered open and once he saw Lily, he cracked a smile.
"Hey, Evans! Finally change your mind about that date?" Lily grimaced, but otherwise ignored his inquiry.
"Why weren't you at that meeting, Potter? That's the third one you've missed—we've only had three!" She exclaimed, her previous irritation returning. James rolled his eyes and shrugged.
"Really, Evans, you should try living a little. Besides, meetings are for lifeless gits, who have nothing better to do than act responsible."
Lily glared. "Oh, yes," she agreed acidly, "because you know so much about responsibility, right, Potter?" With barely a pause, she continued, "and since when does being Head Boy permit you to shirk your duties to go flying?" She stood with her hands on her hips, glowering down at James. He didn't look much happier.
"Wow, Evans, and I didn't realize that the Head Girl had the right to go around jinxing innocent peoples' brooms!" James very nearly shouted. Madam Pomphrey came bustling out of her office, and began poking and prodding at Potter's arm and chest. Lily pushed aside the pangs of jealousy she felt. Why in Merlin's name did she feel jealous of Madam Pomphrey? Lily noticed the way Potter winced and concluded that it must be because the nurse could cause him pain without trouble.
"Okay, dear, you're free to go. Take it easy for the rest of the day though." She patted his arm. Potter stood up, looked Lily square in the eye, and smiled. "Don't worry, my dear Lily flower, I forgive you. It was a pretty clever prank, if I do say so myself." His hazel eyes twinkled, and another smile played at the corner of his lips. "But I'm afraid you'll have to make it up to me…you owe me that much." He stared deeply into her eyes, humor clear in the depths of his, and she couldn't help but get lost in them for a short moment. Then she realized to whom she was speaking.
"I owe you nothing!" she hissed, and turned her back on him and walked out the double doors. He stared after her with intense longing in his eyes, humor fading away and turning into pain.
Lily forced her feet forward towards the Gryffindor common room, wondering why her heart had skipped a few beats when he looked at her like that, and why her stomach did little flip-flops when she stared back at him. She shook the thoughts away. She, Lily Evans, couldn't possibly fancy James Potter. She hated him with a passion. Always had, and always will, she told herself.
At lunch the next day, Potter's best mates, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew—known amongst themselves to be the Marauders—were all curious as to what had happened to land James in the infirmary. Lily heard this, and slowed her pace to hear what Potter would say.
"Oh, I was just pestering Peeves, so he dropped a vase on my head. Knock me out cold, the little bugger." James caught Lily's eye and winked. Sirius noticed James looking at Lily and got up from the table, motioning for James to follow. They left Remus and Peter both shaking their heads, and followed her back to the Gryffindor tower.
Quite loudly, Sirius said, "So, Evans, I hear you and my best mate, James over here, are going out." Lily turned, and her brilliant almond-shaped green eyes were cold, almost as if they had frozen over.
"Do you, now? And I wonder who started that rumor?" She asked, glaring pointedly at James.
Sirius looked shocked. "Rumor, is it? Then why were you in the infirmary with him after his little incident with Peeves?" he countered innocently. Lily turned bright pink, much to the amusement of the others in the common room. As people started laughing, tears welled up in Lily's eyes. James noticed this, and punched Sirius in the arm.
"Hey!" he bellowed. "Shut it!" then he turned to Sirius and said in an undertone, "Come on, Padfoot, sod off. She wasn't even in there for me, she was just…reminding me that I missed another Prefect meeting." He approached Lily and reached his arms out to comfort her, but she slapped his arms away, and pushed him back towards Sirius.
"Don't. Don't even act like you care one bit, because I know you don't. You're just as bad as he is." Her low, menacing tone caught him off guard, and he recoiled as if he'd been slapped.
She ran out of the room, not pausing to look back. As soon as she heard the portrait slam shut behind her, she let the tears fall. Potter's words played over and over in her head, and she couldn't shake the look of his face after she said those horrible things to him. She was wrong. He was much different than Sirius. James knew where to draw the line. But apparently she didn't.