James and Lily, 7th year, graduation ball

A/N: Soooo…. this Lily. It's not how I imagine Lily. She just kind of happened this way. Fair warning.

Disclaimer: Just ask yourself: If I were JKR, would I be a) writing fanfiction b) posting it on a fanfiction website or c) wasting my life away on said fanfiction site?

It's loud. Very loud. Too loud. Not that I have anything against parties – on the contrary, I enjoy them as much as the next person. I am not a fun-killing prude, no matter what those idiots say.

Said idiots (aka the majority of the students in my year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry) are the ones throwing this party. Rather, the staff of Hogwarts is throwing the party for them. For us. In case you are not acquainted with the Hogwarts Class of 1978, allow me to explain:

They are idiots.

Too harsh, you say? Try living with them for seven years straight. Yeah, you heard me. SEVEN FREAKING YEARS. The forty of you, living together, eating together, taking classes together – do you have any idea how much drama is possible in those conditions? That's FOURTY kids who are going on dates with their best friend's ex's brother's ex's current girlfriend's sister, or something like that. And then the whole thing blows up. Literally. This stuff actually happens, people. And I have to live with it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Or I did. Tomorrow, I'll be out of here. Tomorrow, I graduate. Tomorrow, I'm free from Hogwarts, free from these idiots. I'll never have to do a speck of homework again. I won't answer to anyone but myself. I'll be able to actually go out into the world and do something; there'll be no more sitting around and wishing I could kill Death Eaters. I'll be able to fight, really fight. It'll be the real world.

I don't want tomorrow to ever come.

I know, I know. I've just been complaining about Hogwarts. But in all honesty, Hogwarts is, well, magical. I mean, have you been to the kitchens? Best. Food. Ever. And it's free!

And, hello, it's a CASTLE. A freaking castle. Do you have any idea how exciting that it? I LIVE IN A CASTLE. Or I did. Tomorrow, it's back to the real world.

Hogwarts…it's a place to escape. Whatever trouble you have at home, whatever the heck is going on in your life, it doesn't matter here. Sure, Hogwarts has (more than) its fair share of drama, but it actually is rather entertaining. So long as you're not part of it, of course.

I've discovered I'm rather good at staying out of things. Like parties, for example. Seven years at Hogwarts – seven freaking years of living in Gryffindor tower – and this is my first party. Real party, I mean, not like my sister's birthday (for which I haven't been home since she turned 13) or my parent's anniversary (which is now just a super-duper-awkward day for me and Petunia, as opposed to our usual really-really-awkward days) but like a PARTY party. Like a Marauder party.

Which, of course, brings me to the Marauders. I guess it was inevitable that they would show up at some point. Think of Hogwarts as a hurricane, if you will. I'm on the outside, usually, just trying to impose order and keep myself sane. The Marauders are the eye of the storm. To look at them (like I am doing at the moment) you wouldn't think much of them. Four relatively regular looking guys (though to hear them tell it, they're all gods) lounging about in the center of whatever the heck is going on.

EXAMPLE: they are currently standing in the middle of the dance floor. Yup. Standing. As in, not dancing. Anyone else who's not dancing (coughcoughyourstrulycoughcou gh) is considered to be a party-pooper (yeah, that's right, Patil. I heard what you were saying about me). But the Marauders? They're cool. They can do whatever they want and get away with it.

What's that? Oh, yeah. Well… I don't really want to talk about that, to be honest. It's not a very pleasant story. What do you mean, it has a happy ending? What, do Potter and I go riding off into the sunset at the end, or something? Yeah, right. He wishes. Or he wished.

Yeah, see, he hasn't asked me out once this year. It was freaky at first, actually. I mean, after six years of constantly being harassed by someone, you don't really expect them to show up wearing a Head Boy badge and acting... mature.

The weirdest part? This thing has shown up between the two of us, something that sort of maybe could almost be construed as friendship. I knew I was going to have to deal with him – I mean, we're head students – but he's actually been (dare I say it?) nice. Like, a decent human being. To me. ME. Lily Evans, resident prude/party-pooper/mudblood/whatever-else-those-IDIOTS-like-to-call-me. James Potter, the most popular guy in school, being NICE. To ME.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. The poor guy was in love with me for, like, six years. I never gave him a chance. I should have been nicer, yada yada yada. Lemme tell you, IT'S NOT THAT EASY.

Really. I mean it. The way everyone talks, I should be celebrating. OMG JAMES FREAKING POTTER ASKED ME OUT OMG OMG OMG! Uh, no. It's more like "That-guy-who-I-have-never-really-interacted-with-other-than-to-scream-at-him-to-stop-bullying-my-best-friend-who-hates-his-guts-and-vice-versa just asked me out. As a dare. And he thinks he has a chance why?"

Yuppers. So, yeah. That's me and Potter. Or it was. Now? I don't know where we stand. It's a little complicated.

Actually, no, it isn't. It's pretty simple. He doesn't ask me out, I don't scream at him, he doesn't hex people for the fun of it, I don't stop him from hexing Snape. We work on Heads stuff together and sometimes we help each other with homework. We say hi to each other in the halls. When we need partners in class and he's been forbidden from working with any of the other Marauders, we pair up. I talk to his friends and laugh at their pranks. We're…friends, for lack of a better word.

I don't really know much about friendship. Not that I'm an anti-social loner, but I have trouble getting close to people. I have friends, yeah, but they're my friends like Potter is my friend. Close enough to talk to about classes and dream about what we're going to do once we get out of here, but not close enough to pour your heart out to. There've only really been three people I've been that close to. Let's review how that went, shall we?

Petunia. We were best friends as only sisters can be. You know, the sort of friendship where you bicker and bicker and bicker and pretend to hate each other but the instant an outsider attacks they're dead meat? That was me and Tuney. We fought constantly, but it was sisterly fighting and usually ended in our mom diffusing the situation and everyone falling apart into laughter. Then, of course, enter the next friendship.

Snape. I'm sure you've heard all about him. How he told me I was a witch. How he claimed it didn't matter I was muggle born. How we were best friends. How we came to Hogwarts and even the fact that we were sorted into different houses (Gryffindor and Slytherin, no less) we stayed friends. How he became a Death Eater and called me a mudblood. How I now hate his guts and everything to do with him. Yeah, that went well. Which leaves us with

My mum. Awwww, I know, right? I'm a little mummy's girl. But she was there for me all the time. Summers… they aren't easy for us muggle borns. It's weird to be totally immersed in magic for the entire school year then come home and have to pretend to be normal. Petunia and Snape didn't help either – there were reminders of him everywhere and, well, I had to live with Tuney. And Snape kept on coming around. I spent a lot of time with my mum the summer after fifth year, just getting reacquainted. I'd been gone for so long that we really barely knew each other. But we became best friends that summer. It was just her and me – Petunia had moved in with her (walrus) boyfriend. It was heaven. Until this last fall, when I suddenly was flooded with letters of condolence. I thought they were some sort of sick joke at first. You know, screw with the mudblood, make her think her parents are dead? But I owled Petunia, just to double check, you know? And it was true. She hadn't even told me they were dead. I missed the funeral.

So yeah. I don't do friendship that well.

"EVANS! COME ON, GIRL, GET ON THE DANCE FLOOR!" That horrible scratching noise? That would be Benjy Fenwick. Now, don't get me wrong – Benjy is one of the more tolerable human beings at this school. I'd even say he's one of the most tolerable beings, including the hippogriffs, threshals, etc that I greatly prefer to the humans. But Benjy has made it his quest in life to get me to "loosen up". I don't want to loosen up! I'm perfectly happy as I am, thanks.

Ducking away from Benjy, I make my way to the exit. We're in the Great Hall, which looks, well, great (if I do say so myself). It should, after all the time Potter and I put into it. Don't ask me why we had to do it – the teachers are supposed to be the ones throwing this bloody party. But have you ever tried to say no to Dumbledore? One look from him is more convincing than the best puppy-dog-face (except for Black's. I swear that look of his is why he's so dangerous).

But anyway, I head for the great outdoors. I need air. I need space. I need silence. What do I get? Snogging couples. I have seen my fair share of such things – you tend to come across it when you patrol the corridors at night. Thankfully, none of them see me and it's too dark to identify them properly.

I make my way past them, employing every ninja skill I have to escape unnoticed. I'm almost past all the bushes when I hear voices.

"-going to ask her out?"

"Nah, I don't think so."

"It's wrong to lead her on."

"Moony's right. You've been flirting with her for a month now."

Moony. As in Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs? Like, the Marauders? But they were just inside.

"Listen to Pete."

Yup, has to be the Marauders. That's Peter, by the way, Peter Pettigrew. The sanest of the Marauders. In any other context, he'd be a normal guy. But with the others? He's COOL. He's a PRANKSTER. He's a MARAUDER. Etc, etc, etc.

Laughter. "Like you're an example to follow." That would be aimed at Black. He's….well, to put it simply, I don't think he's ever had a girlfriend for more than two weeks.

"But honestly, are you going to ask her out?" That's Remus talking. But that's weird. Who are they talking to?

"No." Wait a sec. That's James. James? They're trying to convince JAMES to ask someone out? They're probably talking about Leanne Turpin. She's the president of his fan club. You know the type: blonde, cares more about boys and perfume than school and the future, would totally be a cheerleader if this were a muggle school and does her best to be one anyway.

But James can't date her! She's all wrong for him. She's dumb, for one, or at least, she pretends to be. She is in Ravenclaw, but she's never had… what is it? oh yeah…. "wit beyond measure". Quite the opposite. She's the sort of girl who, on a date, just hangs on the guys arm and giggles obnoxiously at everything he says. At the same time, though, she is RUTHLESS. I know she slipped Abbot a love potion in fifth year. What she wants, she gets. And she's wanted James a long time. No, he definitely can't date her.

Not that I care who he dates. Why should I? I mean, it's not like he's never dated anyone before. I loved it when he dated people – it gave me a brief reprise. But he never wanted to date someone as dumb as Leanne Turpin. I mean, LEANNE TURPIN. Please. He can do sooo much better.

"James, we just went over this. You've been leading her on."

"She knows I don't mean anything by it."

"She's been telling everyone you're taking her to Hogsmede next weekend."

"WHAT?"

"You see?"

"Just ask her and it'll all be fine."

"But what if I don't want to go out with her?"

Silence for a moment. Then,

"This is about Evans, isn't it?" ME? What do *I* have to do with this, other than, you know, the fact that I'm listening in?

"Shut up."

"Evans? I thought you were over her."

There's a thump that I assume is Peter getting smacked. But I don't quite understand. Of course Potter's over me. He's acted like a (somewhat) sane human being around me. He hasn't confessed his love for me, or asked me out, or stalked me, or completely humiliated/ sexually harassed me since school started again. And I didn't hear from him at all this summer. Normally I get a significant number of owls asking all sorts of "friendly" questions – "Are you dating anyone?" "Don't forget me!" "Here's your daily reminder of how sexy I am!" – stuff like that.

"Don't be thick. Have you seen how he looks at her?" That's Remus. Remus should know better than to be talking like that.

"I'm over her." THANK YOU. See, I told you.

There's a bark of laughter that can only be Sirius. "Which is why you're currently spending your graduation party moping, is it?"

"And why you won't ask Turpin out?" I knew they were talking about her!

"James, give up. You love her."

"And so what if I do?" I don't think I've ever heard that tone of voice from him before. "What does it matter? She's never going to see me like that."

"You can't just give up!"

"Why not? Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just shove Lily Evans out of my mind and forget that she ever existed. I'll probably never even see her again."

"James…"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I'm getting over her. I have to be over her. I am over her."

There is a moment of silence. Then the master of tact, TLC, and all things related to emotions blurts out, "You're mental, you know that?" Yup, that would be Sirius. Who else?

And then they leave. Just like that. Great friends, right? I mean, you don't just ditch your friend when he's clearly having a crisis. I will never understand the Marauders. Or any boys for that matter.

Especially Potter. I mean, the bloke chased me for years. Then this year, he just gave up on me. And now he's saying… what? That he thinks I'll never see him like that? But he loves me anyway?

No. No, he can't love me. He's getting over me! He said so himself.

But... you have to have been in love to be able to fall out of love. Which would imply that he did love me. That I spent six years scorning and scoffing at a boy who was in love with me.

…

I guess now wouldn't be the best of times to mention that I may or may not be head over heels in love with James Potter.

HEY. Don't look at me like that. What do you expect me to do? NOT fall in love with him? Have you seen him?

I mean… he's smart. Geniusy, really. If he would only do his homework instead of procrastinating all the time, his grades would be as good as mine. Maybe even better. (Don't you DARE tell him I said that.)

And he's nice. Really, really nice. He tutors freaking first years. No one but Remus tutors first years!

And, well, he's James Freaking Potter. The Marauders aren't the most popular boys in the school for nothing. They were bullies, yeah, but heaven knows that some people (coughcoughSnapecoughcough) deserved it and they've stopped with the pointless hexing. Most of the time. But they are smart and funny – oh goodness are they funny; I don't think there's ever a moment when I'm with them and I'm not laughing – and they're so tight knit and loyal that you can't help but feel grateful to be part of their group.

Which is something I always wondered about. Why the others accepted me, that is. I mean, even this year I could sort of understand James' attitude towards me. And Remus, well, Remus is nice to everyone. But Sirius and Peter? Why they don't hate me is something I'll never understand. I mean, I certainly loathed them. And I really was mean to James for years and years and years. Way meaner than he deserved.

But this year, those idiots have become some of my best friends. I honestly don't know how it happened. Two years ago I could barely stand to be in the same room as them. But they changed, or I changed, or maybe we all just decided to finally start acting our ages.

Who the heck knows? And really, who the heck cares? Because the fact of the matter is that we've become friends, and somewhere along the way I was stupid enough to stumble in love with James Potter.

Don't even start. I already know what you're going to say, "AWWWW LILY LOVES JAMES AND JAMES LOVES LILY GO GIVE HIM A BIG SMOOCH RIGHT NOW."

Not happening.

Why? Well, remember that list of all the people I've gotten close to. Let's review how that went, shall we? One of them is now part of a group that wants me dead. The second also would probably like to see me dead, or at least somewhere far away from her perfect little life. And the third is dead. Great track record there.

Like I said: I'm not good with people.

Not that I don't have friends – don't go all "AWWW YOU POOR THING" on me. I have friends. Great friends. (diabolical, crazy friends) But I don't really have a BEST FRIEND. Like someone to have intense heart – to – hearts with. Someone that you trust implicitly. Someone that you really, truly love.

Which is why that James Potter and I are not going to happen.

Yeah, we've made progress this year. We're friends. And we're good at being friends. But it's a delicate balance. Everything that has happened in the last six years (him asking me out, me hexing him, anything to do with Snape) is taboo. We don't talk about our (non-existent) love lives. We stay on safe topics, like school and the war and the usual Hogwarts gossip and what we're going to do when we graduate. The future, not the past.

But dating? No way. No freaking way. It just wouldn't work. The two of us, we're explosive. I don't care how many times Sirius has told me it's sexual tension – it's not. Even now, we argue daily. About scheduling, about how much work each of us should do, about quiddich, about his pranks, about anything under the sun. It's not too much for us to handle as friends, but how on earth do you make a relationship work when you're squabbling all the time?

And up until now I was sure that he had never had real feelings for me. So I should be thrilled that he did, right? Wrong. I broke the guy's heart daily for the last six years. I hurt him! And you think he'll take me back now? As if.

But…

He is just sitting there. And he must be lonely. I mean, he just had this huge breakdown and his friends just ditched him! And yeah, I was the reason for the breakdown, but a hug from me is better than no hug at all, right?

(and maybe I'll tell him that he was wrong)

I escape the last hedge in that infernal garden and make my way over to him. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know why I'm doing it. I'm insane. I'm the last person he wants to see right now. But my legs aren't listening to my brain and so I keep walking.

I slow when I reach him. He's leaning against the base of the Astronomy Tower with his knees tucked up under his chest. He's not crying or anything, just staring off at the grounds with a stony expression. "Hey," I say, a little too happily. He starts and seems surprised to see me. That's a good thing, I guess. If he wasn't surprised he might know that I was listening to him and his friends. And that would be just awkward.

"Hi," he says. He doesn't sound very friendly. Well, I was expecting that. I sit down next to him anyway.

"Nice night out," I chirp. Chirp. I DON'T CHIRP. But there is no other word for what I just did. What's happening to me?

"Yeah," he says. Monosyllabic answers. He's really not in the mood for company. But my mouth won't stop moving.

"What are you doing all the way out here?" I ask. I cringe internally. Really, Lily? You know why he's here. To get away from idiots like you! (when did I start classifying myself with the idiots?)

"Thinking," he says. Ooooh, two syllables. Very good, Jamsie!

"About what?" Way to be nosy, Lily. Way too respect his space. God, I'm stupid.

"Stuff," he said vaguely, then suddenly seemed to realize that yes, he really was having an actual conversation with somebody. "What are you doing out here?" He sounded like he was accusing me of eating the last cookie.

"Thinking," I threw back at him. Mental pat on the back for Lily!

He sort of half smiled at that – not really a full smile, more of just a twitching of the lips. You know how people in books are always smiling smiles that didn't reach their eyes? I never got that before now. But this smile of James'? It doesn't reach his eyes. I'm not used to that. It's disconcerting. He has no right to disconcert me like that!

My reaction is automatic and instantaneous (and maybe the stupidest thing I've ever done). I reach out and slip my arms around him, pulling him close into a hug. He's surprised and frankly, so am I. We don't hug. We just don't. I'm not a huggy person. I mean, my best friend for years was SNAPE. Can you see him giving out hugs? Um, no. And then James is a teenage boy. They don't hug. Like, ever. I mean, when they've just won the Quiddich Cup, I guess technically they get hugged, but it's more of a crushing tsunami. And even for quiddich I don't hug him. It would just be awkward. I mean, with our history?

You know, I think there's a definite possibility that I over think things. It's really not healthy.

But it's legitimate! Here, anyway. Because if I had thought about this at all, I wouldn't have done it. Because it is awkward. Really awkard, if you want the truth. He's put his arms around me and it feels nice and all, but that thought is pulsing just under the surface: JAMES POTTER AND LILY EVANS ARE HUGGING. THEY ARE HUGGING. WHY ARE THEY HUGGING? (because they're in love) JAMES POTTER AND LILY EVANS DON'T HUG.

And we're not talking. What do you say when you've just spontaneously hugged someone? What do you say when you have History with said person? Do you acknowledge the fact that he's in love with you and just screamed at his friends that he was trying to get over you? Do you admit that you're becoming more certain by the hour that you're in love with him? Or do you just sit there in the ultimate awkward silence?

Being a genius, I choose the last option. We're not moving, not talking; we're just sitting there, frozen. The moment is stretching… and stretching… and stretching… and it's getting past awkward. I keep waiting for him to move, to pull away from me in disgust, (to kiss me) to do something, anything. But he doesn't. I peek a look, and his eyes are closed, his face tense almost like he's trying not to cry.

He notices my movement (shoot. I was being so careful!) and slowly pulls away. "What was that for?" he asks brusquely.

Oh, goodness. He's mad at me. Of course he's mad at me! I start babbling, "Well, you looked really sad and like you needed a hug and so I thought I'd give you one and I really had no clue what I was doing. It was just kind of a spur of the moment thing, you know?"

He turns away from me, his face screwed up as if he's asking the gods for the strength to keep from killing me. "Merlin's beard, Lily," he whispers. "What is it about you?"

I stare at him, nonplussed. What on earth is he talking about? What is about me that makes me so stupid? The question ought to be asked is what is it about him that makes me go insane! I swear, my thought process gets all messed up whenever he's around. Case in point: my response. "Uhhhh…"

"I mean, when you're not around I can think straight. Then you show up and it's like my brain just flies out the door." He runs his hand through his hair in frustration. What on earth is he talking about? "Look, I can't keep doing this, okay?"

Doing what? Is he breaking up with me? Ohmysweetgoodness, he's breaking up with me. He can't break up with me! We're not even dating!

"I'm sorry," he continues. I'm pretty sure my jaw is about at my knees by now. "But it's just too much. I can't keep pretending."

"Pretending what?" I blurt out. My mind is going a million miles an hour but it's not getting me anywhere. What on earth is he talking about?

"That we can be just friends!" he cries, jumping to his feet. I stand up as well. "Look, Lily, you know I've been in love with you for years. I thought I could get over it, deal with it, work with you as friends, but I can't, okay? I just can't!"

Meanwhile, I'm just standing there like an idiot. He loves me? He still loves me. And he's been trying to get over me, but he can't. That means he still loves me, right? He just said he loved me.

So I do the only thing I can think of. Not that there's much thinking involved, of course. I'm an impulsive person, always have been. This is no different. I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms around his waist and landing my lips on his. Or trying to, anyway. They end up on his cheek, but I think he gets the idea because pretty quickly his lips are on mine.

Turn away now, children. These details are not for you. They're all mine, and I'm never going to share them with anyone, because I don't think I've ever been this happy. I'm kissing James Freaking Potter and he's kissing me back and…

Let's just say I'm very happy.

But of course, privacy is something that simply doesn't exist at Hogwarts. It's only a moment or two later that we're interrupted by none other than Sirius Black. I've mentioned how much I hate him, haven't I? Because I hate him. Really, really hate him, with every fiber of my fibrous being. He should be expelled from Hogwarts. Only I guess James wouldn't like that that much.

"PRONSIE AND HIS LILY SITTING IN A TREE!" he's yelling at the top of his lungs. "S-N-O-G-G-I-N-G! FIRST COMES LOVE, THEN COMES MARRIAGE, THEN COMES THE BABY IN THE BABY CARRIGE! I CALL GODFATHER!"

James and I pull apart – I mean, hello, Sirius is LOUD and I at least pull away only because it would be difficult to murder him with my lips still attached to James' – and look at each other. "Can I murder him?" I whisper, because, after all, the sight of his best friend's mangled body might shock James enough that his sense will return to him and he'll realize he doesn't love me after all and that would just be bad.

"No," he whispers back, that familiar smirk spreading across his face. I love that smirk. Ignore everything I said over the last six years about how insufferable it is. It's not insufferable, it's adorable. "That pleasure is going to be mine."

I pout even as I feel my smile growing in response to his. "Can't I at least help?" I whine.

"Always," he whispers.

A/N: This has absolutely nothing to do with the song it was in theory going to be a song fic for, Wallflower by Etta James. But I had no idea what to do with that song, so it turned into just being a school dance, which turned into this. But hey, it worked!

I will love you forever if you comment. :D

Wallflower by Etta James