Chapter One:

Pre-word –

As a self-proclaimed Lily and James fan, I have read multiple fan fictions about them on this site. I do, however, find a re-occurring pattern. In most, but not all, I find that it is often James that has to 'deflate' his head, in order to win over Lily's affections. Personally, I am not in agreement to this statement, if their love is true and as pure as it is in the books, I think that both characters should learnt to love each other, regardless. As a gorgeous young man named Sirius Black once said 'We both have light and dark inside us' for me Lily and James need to establish the fact that no-one is not flawless, least of all themselves, and although it may take a while, and several fights, they will come to conclusion of love. But not because one of them has changed, yes James does grow up, but I don't think he would become completely humble, therefore losing one of his particular traits, because it's just him. And Lily should love all of him, like wise with him, personality flaws, or not. If that makes sense?

Rant over, I just wanted to put forwards my views of the couple, and say that this may be a little different to the norm. But, hopefully different is good.

Disclaimer: All characters and anything remotely relate-able to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter are owned by J.K. Rowling, the plot however, is my own.

I check my watch as I gaze out of the scarlet steam engines window. It's 11 o'clock precisely, and time for another year at Hogwarts – my last year. I watch as parents call out to their children, waving and expressing their love, much to the embarrassed students' displeasure. Pulling myself away from the window I adjust my robes, wipe a stray tear and fuss with my shiny new pin that reads 'Head Girl'. I'm being silly, and I know it. And so, to distract myself before the prefects and head boy arrive, I pull out my transfiguration textbook, and start revising the new material – it's my worst subject. After a few minutes of quite reading the door to the heads compartment slides open, what I see shocks me. Standing there, as bold as brass is James Potter. Taller than ever, robes and tie askew, and of course. Hand in his hair. The boy offers me a small, but distracted smile as he flops down into the bench opposite me. He closes his eyes, as he leans his head back and emits a long, deep groan. My eyes narrow in anticipation, as I snap my book shut.

'And just what do you think you're doing here?' I snap, all previous upset forgotten instantly.

'I will have you know this is the prefects' compartment! And as I know you are neither prefect nor head boy, you have no right to be here!'

But Potter doesn't seem to care; he barley acknowledges my speech, merely carrying on running his hands repeatedly through his already messy hair.

'You're so rude!' I reply, flapping my hands angrily. The boy has yet to pay any attention to me; to say this annoys me somewhat is an understatement.

'If you don't leave, right this instant...' I threaten, raising my wand slightly. I place my hand on my hip, and just as I'm about to hex the living day lights out of him, he decides that he is in fact awake, and listening. A wise decision, although it's most probably down to that fact he knows all too well that I cast a wicked bat- bogey hex.

'Oh shut it already Evans.' He groans, finally opening both eyes. I huff, and pointing my wand menacingly I respond rudely

'Sod off Potter! I told you already, this is the prefect's compartment! You don't belong here!' I then receive my very first 'Potter' smirk of the day; it reminds me just how much I hate this boy, as he replies

'You're as sharp as ever Evans, but actually, I do belong here.' I growl in frustration, when a reflection on his chest suddenly catches my eye. My attention is drawn to the two shiny pins that sit to the left side of his black robes. My eyes swell to the size of quaffles.

This can't be.

I refuse, REFUSE to believe it.

James Potter, head boy. No. Dumbledore has gone metal, completely off his rocker. What was he thinking! Then the logic, I'm ever so famous for, sets in, of-course; it's one of the time old Maurder pranks. Dumbledore isn't that mad, Remus did receive the badge after all.

'Jokes over Potter, you've obviously stolen that badge off Remus! Hand it over.' But to my disgusts the boys smirk widens as I reach across the table to snatch the badge back. He casually bats my hand away as he reclines backwards into the seat again, looping his hands around the back of his head loosely. I growl, and I'm about to make a grab for the badge again, when the door suddenly opens with bang, and the prefects slowly file in. They eye us both warily, and I blush as red as my hair, moving as far away from Potter as I can, whilst smoothing out my flustered appearance. I glance at Remus, questioning him with my eyes, but the boy quickly glances down, avoiding my probing gaze.

Realization is beginning to set in. I groan, as my gaze travels from Potters well decorated chest, to Remus's bare comparison. This isn't a joke. Reality crashes downwards. I can already feel that this year is going to be just great fun, absolutely smashing! I wish.

And so, placing my best smile on my face, not before shooting evils Potter, I start the prefects meeting.

Well, I'm hopefully on my way to survival; I've managed to endure the prefects meeting without strangling Potter. Just as I am about to exit, wanting to spend no more time than necessary with the prick, and his insufferable ego, I feel a surprisingly warm hand encircle my wrist.

'Let. Go.' I Demand through gritted teeth.

'A word, Evans.' He smirks, as the final prefect leaves, I catch a glance of greasy black hair, before the door slams close behind him. Potter releases the hold on my wrist and nonchalantly leans against the door frame, effectively trapping me in the compartment. I huff, angrily, the cross my arms over my chest.

'You may not like me Evans' I interject mumbling

'-well that's an understatement to say the least' But he glares quickly silencing me.

'But just because of my, our, past, doesn't mean I'm not taking this job seriously.' He says, hazel eyes locked on mine. 'Get of your bloody high horse for once Evans, we aren't fifteen anymore, so grow up and appreciate that just because we can't all be perfect prissy little anal people like you, doesn't mean we aren't equals.'

'-I'm not perfec-' But he continues as though he hasn't heard me 'That way, we might actually get on this year, and get something done.' After a pointed look he says 'I will see you after the feast' and barges out of the door before I've even had a time to reply.

That has got to be first time James Potter has left me speechless. Completely gob-smacked! How dare he, off all people, accuse me of being on a bloody high horse! I hate him! I HATE him!

James Potter is the one boy I cannot abide. He stands for everything I despise. His arrogance, spite, and cruel pranks that he plays on others for self-satisfaction. The boy vexes me, and always has done, since the first day of my wizarding career we have hit it off on a bad note – to say the least. I angrily sit myself down, and let out a large sigh. The boy is not worth stressing over. I pull my transfiguration text back out, settling myself back down for the rest of the journey, keeping my mind busy, from straying thoughts, until we reach Hogsmede station.

Reviews and constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Thank - you for reading.

Millie.