The lake was quiet when Lily got there, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had just escaped an altogether too enthusiastic Professor Slughorn, and she needed a breather. She had been aiming for the common room, but when she passed a window and saw the deserted grounds, she had immediately changed direction. Now as Lily drifted slowly around the waters edge, she lost herself completely in thought. It was because of this, probably, that Lily didn't notice a figure approaching her.

"Hey, Evans," came his smooth voice. She gritted her teeth. So much for quiet. She gave a curt nod in response, but didn't speak. She figured if she didn't say anything, maybe he would go away. He didn't. Unsurprisingly, the question came next. "Will you go out with me?" She sighed. Didn't he ever get tired of that?

"Don't you ever get tired of that?" He looked at her blankly.

"Honestly?" he asked skeptically. "No. I don't."

Lily looked down, examining her toes. She hated the power he had over her, the power to make her feel insignificant and small.

"Don't you ever get tired of saying no?" She looked at him blankly.

"Honestly?" she asked skeptically. "Yes. I do."

And then he kissed her. All the sayings she had ever heard about how a kiss should be: fireworks, curling toes, utter bliss, seemed a little off the mark. Something was off about this kiss, as though it was some kind of mistake that should never have taken place, and she was only just now realizing this.

"So Evans," he asked casually, but with an undercurrent of real nerves. "Will you go out with me?" She looked at him. She looked at his hair, his glasses, his hopeful eyes. She couldn't turn him down but…

"No," she whispered, her eyes flying downwards once more. Apparently they were extremely fascinated in her shoes. He didn't say anything. Lily could tell that he was hurt and confused. He had just kissed her, after all, and she hadn't protested. And yet here she was, refusing him.

"Why not?" he asked, sounding almost indifferent, like he really didn't care any more why she wouldn't go out with him, only that she wouldn't.

"Because, James Potter," she said, suddenly growing annoyed. "You have asked me out every day, usually more than once a day, since the age of thirteen. And every day, I have said no. You have stooped to all sorts of levels to get my attention, at one point even torturing another student just because you were bored! You have always been James Potter, mister popular, and instead of being recognized for anything that I've done, I'm just Lilly Evans, girl whom James Potter is currently infatuated with. And frankly Potter, that's what I am. An infatuation. And in two months when we would have successfully gone out on a date or two, had I said yes, you would get over this infatuation. And then I would no longer even be Lily Evans, girl whom James Potter is currently infatuated with, but Lily Evans, previous conquest of James Potter. And if there is one thing I am not, it is a mat for boys to step on any time they please. You should know that by now. And if you don't, you really know absolutely nothing about me, no matter how many times you claim to love me."

She glared.

He stared.

But she wasn't done yet.

"Because honestly Potter, my reserves are running out, and I am starting to get so tired of saying no that I am dangerously close to saying yes. And if you asked me out again, I have absolutely no idea what the answer would be."

A single tear worked it way slowly down Lily's cheek, but she was too busy trying to burn a hole through her shoelace to notice. James, however, did notice. Hesitantly, as though afraid of death by electrocution, he reached a hand out to Lily's face, and gently brushed the tear away. He cupped her chin, and raised her head up, making it so that she was looking directly into his eyes.

"Lily Evans." He said, looking determined. "I have asked you out every day, usually more than once a day, and every time you have said no. I have stooped to ridiculous levels to gain your attention, and looking back I'm only grateful that you didn't say yes to me years ago, because you would then have good reason to think I am still the same annoyingly egotistical berk I was. I have always been James Potter, pathetic prankster who has ideas above his abilities, and you have always been Lily Evans, caring angel who is too smart to ever associate with someone like me. And frankly Lily, the idea that you are a mere infatuation is simply laughable. I love you, I love everything about you, and I can guarantee you that if I was to date you I would only grow to worship you more, and would most definitely not get over you."

He brushed a hand across her cheek.

"Because honestly Evans, my reserves will never run out, I will never get tired of asking you out on the hope that one day you will say yes. And if I asked you out again, and I will, I will have absolutely no idea what the answer will be, but I will always hope for a 'yes'."

And, having nothing else to do, he kissed her again.

And this time… something was different. Something was right. Lily stretched her arms around his neck, curling her fingers in his tangled black hair, and kissed him back. When they broke apart, she smiled slightly.

"Just so you know, Mr. Potter," she purred coyly. "My reserves have officially run out, so if you were to ask me out again, and I know you will, I know exactly what my answer will be, and I think you will like it."

He asked.

She said yes.

It was James's words by the lake that day that changed everything. Lily realized what she had always failed to see: he really loved her. So she gave him a chance, and lo and behold, she realized something else: she loved him too.

It was three years later, in a cozy little cottage in Godric's Hollow, and Lily was running up the stairs, heart pounding like it never had before. She had Harry clutched in her arms, and tears were pouring down her face. She had heard the thud, heard the laugh, and knew that James was dead. Knew that he would never again kiss her, never again hold her, never again tell her he loved her, like he should. Knew that the only important thing remaining in this world was clutched tightly to her chest, and that she could not let him die.

Lily pulled out her wand, ready to defend herself, and whirled.

He was there.

He was staring at her.

He was coming for her.

"Step aside, girl."

And it was over.