(Fifth Year)
He picked the wrong day.
On any given day of the year, there was a fifty seven percent chance that James Potter would aggravate her, test her, push her to her limits. And that was being generous.
But on this day – this day, of any day of the year – he should have made himself scarce. He should have avoided her like the plague or Filch. He should have backed away for however long she needed, and they both knew she would need quite a long time.
James Potter very rarely did what he should.
And so, in typical fashion, he came up to her not days or weeks later, but a mere two hours. And she was not happy.
"You are the last person I want to see right now," she bit out through clenched teeth, her hands curled into shaking fists at her side.
"Me? It isn't my fault!"
And any given day of the year, Lily would have simply tucked a strand of hair behind her ear (it was a nervous habit) and rolled her eyes, and she would have made a witty remark, and then been on her way. She would have left him without a second thought, except, perhaps, James Potter is an idiot.
But it was not any given day.
She turned around slowly, and her face was utterly calm – too calm, James thought. She was beautiful in the dying torchlight, and the fire in her eyes ignited the fire of her hair. "It's not your fault? How do you figure that, James?"
"I… I didn't say that word! He's the one who called you that, not me!"
"And why did he call me that word that you can't even bring yourself to say? Because you goaded him, like always!"
"Lily," he said, exasperated and beginning to understand that he made a horrible decision in confronting her today, "do you really think that he wouldn't have called you that otherwise? He shouldn't have said it! It shouldn't have even crossed his bloody mind to say it! Because he's supposed to be your best friend."
They both stood silently for a moment. Lily was about five words away from a complete outburst. James was noticing how tight her fists were.
"Besides," James continued, against his better judgement, "I did you a favor."
She stood there, her mouth agape and her heart crumbling (because, of course, he was right). It had been six words. And so she walked forward, and with her small hand, slapped James Potter across the face with impressive power.
At least ,that's what James thought.
The tears were threatening to topple over, and on today of all days, she would not cry in front of him. So she stormed off, her hair flying behind her, and she swore the entire school could hear the sound of her heart shattering like a mirror.
James stayed there for a moment, his hand gingerly reaching up to touch the place where her slap had met his skin. It was sore and red, in all likelihood, and James let out a lengthy breath. If there was one thing he was good at, he realized, it was making Lily Evans angry.
(Sixth Year)
"I just want to know why, Evans."
"Because you are impossible."
"You've used that one before," James countered as they walked along, Lily staunchly trying not to speak to him, and James making that effort futile. "Besides, what harm can one date do?"
"James, I am ninety five percent certain that one date could kill me."
"Ouch."
She sighed. "I'm sorry," she heaved out, and he raised an eyebrow at her.
"You apologize too much."
She shifted the books in her arms uncomfortably. "Just because I am capable of feeling remorse, Potter, and you aren't, there's no reason to be condescending."
He shrugged and ruffled his hair. "I just think maybe you let people walk all over you."
She stopped dead in the middle of the hallway, her mouth hanging open. James shrugged again, giving her an odd look, and Lily laughed out loud. "You are unbelievable. I do not let people walk all over me! I am perfectly capable of handling myself!"
"Oh, I don't doubt that," he said, winking at her. She glared at him. "I'm just saying that you're always so worried about people thinking you're mean or something that you let them get away with all kinds of shit."
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"You are five years old."
"And proud of it, dear."
Lily groaned and began walking again, James falling into step beside her. "Anyways," he began again, "I have evidence."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Let's hear it , then."
James paused for a fraction of a second. Not nearly enough time to gauge whether this idea was good or not (it was not). And then he said, "Snape. You always let him do whatever he wanted. You even talked about being friends with him again this year, after what he did last year." He hesitated. She was barely breathing.
"He treated you like shit and you let him," he concluded.
Lily stopped again. The people filtered around the pair of them, not mentioning it, because it was a regular occurrence that the two fought – mostly in public. Lily's jaw was dislodged, again, and she was positive that if her arms were not laden with books a punch would have been thrown.
"How dare you." Her voice was eerily calm, and it was not raised at all, and James understood the gravity of that. When Lily Evans was exceptionally angry, she did not scream.
"How dare you!" she repeated, a bit louder, and she stormed away. A few feet later she stopped and turned, her mouth half-open as if she was preparing to speak, before she shook her head and closed it.
James watched her walk away from him, and he sighed. As the warning bell rang, and he cursed himself as he sprinted towards Potions, he secretly hoped for a time where he could have a conversation with Lily without it ending in her angry walk-off.
(Seventh Year)
There were multiple words coming into her head at that moment, but the one that overrode all others was that arrogant asshole.
"Alright, Evans, let's not get too worked up -"
"Too worked up? James, this is ridiculous!" she shrieked, throwing her hands in the air.
"You're overreacting!" (She was. Of course she was. But she was angry and hurting).
"I don't care! You can't just bring random girls in here to shag or snog or whatever the hell else!"
"Lily, it really doesn't seem that big of a deal," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. She was fuming, and he knew it, although he didn't know why. Her cheeks were red and her eyes were wild, and she looked so fucking beautiful that it killed him.
"Damn it, James, we have to share this office. I don't want to come in here to find you with a naked girl or something!"
"Lily, why the hell were you doing Head Girl work at two o'clock in the morning?" he asked. She mentally cursed herself.
"Why the hell were you with a Hufflepuff fifth year at two o'clock in the morning?" she countered.
He raised an eyebrow. "She's a good kisser."
Lily's breath caught in her throat. She hated him. She absolutely loathed him. Or, in better terms, she absolutely loathed how much she didn't hate him. Her heart was beating rapidly and she was just so fucking tired of feeling like this every time he looked at her or laughed or smiled. And she was definitely tired of feeling miserable every time he took a new girl to the Head offices.
And so, because she was tired and angry, she slapped him.
And because she was in love with the arrogant asshole, she kissed him.
She grabbed his face in her hands and smashed their lips together, praying to every deity she could think of that he wouldn't tell her to stop. And he didn't. His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, and he kissed back, their mouths pouring every angry thought and emotion back into the other.
When they broke apart, their foreheads touching and their breaths intermingling in front of them, James whispered, "She's not as good of a kisser as you."
Lily laughed.
And as he reconnected their lips again, and Lily's smile broke through each kiss, James thought that making Lily Evans angry sometimes wasn't so terrible after all.
A/N: So, I just sort of wrote this because I wanted to capture both the progression of James and Lily's relationship while talking about the fights they had (because damn it, their witty banter is the best). So I hope you enjoyed it!
Please please read & review! It would mean the world.
xoxo, Hannah