He had seen her around the shops in his town. She also wore the same red shoes, that seemed totally unsuitable for the bike she rode.

The first time James Potter saw her was in the summer holidays, just outside the library, one arm holding a pile of books as she stood one of pedal of the bike, gliding smoothly down the road. He had been staring at the ground and it was her colourful cursing that made him look up in surprise.

Her books were sprawled over the floor, the cover of one dangerously close to a puddle, leaked from the broken gutter, the last rain they had was three days ago, and the sun had more than made up for it.

Lily had dropped to her knees, and began picking the books up, muttering under her breath, words that sounded an awful lot like 'Stupid idiot' and 'If that one gets wrecked, I'll smash him over the head with Jane Eyre' and 'I'd like to see him deal with four hundred pages of doomed love,'

James blinked hard, looking at the girl's bent head, before rescuing the book nearest the puddle.

"Uh, sorry." He said, handing her the book, 'Jane Eyre' splayed across the cover. She was right, it was heavy.

She looked up at him, a lock of hair hanging over her green eyes. She took it from him and flicked through the pages, smoothing a crumpled one out and secured it between the other pages to crease back into a normal position.

She put the other five books in her front basket and stood, James scrabbling to his feet after her.

"You're James Potter." She said it confidently, and James had a feeling he would like this girl.

"I am." He confirmed even though the girl hadn't asked. "Who're you?"

The girl tilted her head back, ever so slightly, to properly see his face. Her hair glinted golden in the sun, and she smiled suddenly, her hands clutching the handlebars of her bike.

"Lily Evans."

As the sun shined on her, and she grinned up at him, James Potter fell in love with Lily Evans.

He walked her home that day, sharing sherbet lemons from the bag in her basket, after spending an entire afternoon, on the swings in the park, racing each other to the top, their stomachs leaping every time they reached the peak of a swing, or even looked at each other.

They grinned easy, laughing at the awful jokes James would say and Lily's sarcastic replies. The sun was setting as he said goodbye to her outside her house, arranging to meet outside the library two days later, James promising to bring his iPod ("What? You haven't heard of AC/DC? What about Fall Out Boy? Where have you been living, Evans?") and Lily agreeing to leave '400 pages of doomed love' at home.

They did not just fall in love for that summer, nor just for the mortal years that passed.

Their love spanned decades, from that moment outside a library, to smiling at each other from across a church, shining eyes as they repeated their vows, to cradling a green-eyed baby in their arms, as he chewed on his thumb and waved his free hands at the people smiling down on him.

And unlike Jane and Mr. Rochchester, theirs was not a doomed romance.

I may be studying too much poetry at school, them last few paragraphs? Jeez, far too much... Is there even a word for that much cheesiness and fluff? Yes, its called eleven at night and I want to sleep but look Jily.

Happy Christmas Eve, and if you don't celebrate Christmas... Hope you enjoy all the cheap chocolate that will be sold afterwards.

Fez.