Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me. All rights go to JK Rowling/Warner Bros. I do not profit in any way.

Alright, Potter?

"Alright, Evans?"

It was a phrase that had followed Lily through her last eight years.

In first year, second year, it'd been rather benevolent. She didn't like Potter, but she didn't outright hate him either. He was a prat, certainly, and Lily didn't approve of his stupid rivalry with her best mate, but there was nothing she could do about it. Severus wouldn't want her to get involved anyway.

By fifth year, though, her patience had worn thin. The smiles of their earlier years had turned into stupid smirks from him, and scowls from her. He didn't seem to be growing out of his baiting-Severus habit, and it irritated her immensely. She turned him down five times that year, and twice the following, but James Potter couldn't seem to get it through his thick head that she was not interested in him. She didn't care if he was captain of the Quidditch team by his sixth year, or that he'd rather grown into his lanky body. She didn't care for his easy smile, and the way he messed up his hair was infuriating rather than endearing.

And Lily's friends teased her when she stopped glaring quite so much at Potter, but she insisted to herself that she was simply being courteous, seeing as he'd started to act a little less prattish. He'd left Severus alone by then, and she didn't see him being mean to any of the other students. He won the cup for Gryffindor by the end of their sixth year, through his captaining of the Quidditch Team.

Lily supposed she shouldn't really have been surprised when she was greeted with an "Alright, Evans?" upon entering the prefect's compartment on that first day of seventh year, but she couldn't have quite masked it. James smiled and promised it wasn't a wind-up. He showed her his Head Boy badge, and was serious for a moment when he said to her that he was going to do his very best for the school, that he was going to try not to mess up too much.

And Lily found herself reassuring him that he'd be just fine.

And he was. No-one would have thought it, looking upon the James Potter of fifth-year, but the boy was born to be a leader. He was fair and hardworking, and he did mess up sometimes, but that was alright, because she did too. Together, they managed the headship just fine.

It seemed the only ones who were surprised when Lily asked James to Hogsmeade for Halloween were James and Lily themselves, for their friends had long since prophesied it would happen eventually.

And so they went, and the day was cold, but the Butterbeer was warm, and so was the feel of her hand in his as they walked back to the school.

And now, over a year has passed. Lily walks up the length of the marquee, her father's arm in hers, butterflies in her stomach.

It happened quickly, she knows, but she wouldn't have it any other way. She sees James's wide grin, and Sirius's beside him. Sirius mutters something to James before stepping back a couple of paces, and Lily's reached the top of the isle without realising it. Her father places her hand in James's, and when she looks up at his smiling face, she knows what he's going to say, and delights that soon the phrase will have to have one crucial adjustment.

A/N: A very late birthday present for Clara! I'm sorry it is so belated, but happy birthday nonetheless, and I hope you liked this! x