"I have to leave." Lily felt her stomach lurch, butterflies creeping up towards her throat. It was not a good feeling.

"What?" Marlene responded drowsily, having just been shaken out of a nap by the anxious redhead. She lifted her head up from her arms, locks of wavy blonde hair haphazardly settled into a sleep-induced nest. "Why?"

"I just… I just need to, Marlene. Seriously." Lily turned deathly pale, glancing worriedly behind her, green eyes flickering to a cluster of desks at the back of the classroom.

Oh, Merlin. Oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin, oh bloody Godric Gryffindor's smelly underpants. Oh crap oh crap oh crap. Lily's frantic mind frazzled every thought that tried to make itself known, invoking within her a plethora of emotions; fright, an odd sense of knowing, a weird feeling of being aware that she'd really stepped in it this time… more and more conflicting emotions piled up on top of each other, making her groan and lean forward, her head landing on the wooden desk with a dull thud. Professor Flitwick continued to explain the theory of 'natural magic' charms, not even registering that a smacking sound had sounded across the attentive silence of the classroom. Well, the almost silence of the classroom; James Potter and Sirius Black were giggling and whispering every so often, as usual.

"Lily?" Marlene sounded more concerned this time, sitting up straight and yanking her fellow sixth-year into an upright position. "Do you need to see Madam Pomfrey?"

"I need to see a mental specialist." Lily breathed, looking dazed and shocked, a perpetual surprised deer in headlights. "Marlene. Marlene."

"What?" Marlene hissed, starting to worry about Lily's psychological state. "Lily, what's wrong?"

"Everything." Lily croaked in response, still sounding as if her head were stuck in a faraway dreamland. "Oh dear Merlin. Oh dear. Oh no."

"Did someone slip something into your pumpkin juice this morning?!"

"I have to go."

"Where?"

"Anywhere! I need to leave." Lily suddenly sounded pleading, desperate, her eyes once again flickering agitatedly behind her.

Before Marlene could open her mouth again, Lily had abruptly pushed her books into her satchel, slung it across her body, mumbled a quick apology and an unintelligible excuse to the surprised Professor, and bolted out of the classroom. Yep, Prefect Lily Evans, the supreme advocate of education, the little Miss Goody-two-shoes who had never stepped a toe out of line in all her six years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, had picked up and left halfway through a lesson, not speaking a word of sense.

Marlene was in a bog of confusion. What? What? What? She twisted around, searching for what Lily's eyes had so edgily glanced at, and saw nothing of interest. Only a blank stretch of wall, a few empty desks and the two present Marauders, laughing among themselves-

Oh.

Oh.

28th March, 1977 - the day Lily Evans realised that she had fallen for James Potter.