"Bugger off!" came the agitated cry as he hounded her. He followed her everywhere, like a little lovesick, annoying puppy. He waited for her outside the girls loos; he refused to leave the Gryffindor common room until she had climbed the stairs to the seventh-years girls' dormitories; he wouldn't leave a classroom until he she departed it and, most annoyingly of all, he followed her doggedly around the library, peering at each old, worn book that she was perusing on the shelves, as though he wanted to know and read every single book that she had, on the off chance that she might ever want to strike up a conversation with him. Not that that would ever happen. Not in his wildest of dreams.
Nope, he just gazed at her, hoping that she might ask him why he followed her around, get to know him perhaps. But, alas, that was not to happen either. It seemed that the only words she deemed fit for use on him were swear words or impolite words; words that she kept reserved for him and him only. The sort of words that any other pupil in school would be shocked to hear the angelic head girl speak in her sweet tones. But he was used to them. She had been using them on him for many a month now, and the insults just seemed to slide off of him, he had learned to grow a thick skin when it came to speaking to his beloved.
He never spoke to her, just followed her around silently. He had discovered that conversation wasn't a good idea with her. She didn't respond well to conversation. He still had the scars to prove it.
"Please, for your sake and mine, just FUCK OFF!" she screamed, desperate for her walking shadow to leave her in peace to walk the halls alone. But he kept on walking. She was cracking, he could tell; she had only sworn at him twice today. He was getting somewhere. The walking shadow decided that it was time he spoke to her. After two months of constant silence whenever he was in her presence he felt that now was the moment he should use oral communication.
"Can we talk?" he queried in his deep voice, the voice that she had been secretly craving to hear for the past two months. She stopped dead in her tracks, was he speaking to her? He must've been, the corridor was otherwise deserted.
"Umm, yeah, I suppose we can, umm, yeah sure" came the ever-so-intelligent response as she tried, in vain, to get her breath back. The bugger had gone off somewhere and was refusing to return.
"Lily, can I ask you a favour?" he asked edging closer towards her, a few more inches and he'd been infringing on her personal space bubble. No one came inside her personal space bubble without a seriously harmful jinx being cast upon them.
"If you insist" she muttered, gazing at a scuff on her otherwise perfect leather school shoes. She made a mental note to clean them later. Oh buggery. He was getting closer, mere centimetres from entering the bubble now.
"Well," he said sweeping his hair from his eyes, revealing the glinting silver eyebrow piercing that she secretly adored, "I was just wondering if you'd like to, you know, maybe, possibly.."
He was rambling and she knew it. She decided to find out what on earth he was talking about.
"James, just spit it out, I'm sure whatever you want to say would not be any more annoying than anything you have said..". But she was cut off mid sentence by some surprisingly soft lips capturing hers. Lips, if she wasn't mistaken, belong to one James Potter.
Adding even more to her surprise, she felt herself begin to kiss him back. Her impulses and deep feelings took over as she knotted her hands in his unruly black hair and he did the same in the luscious, red curls of her own hair. They continued kissing for what seemed like a blissful eternity before James pulled back.
"Going to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday then?" he questioned, giving Lily a roguish wink. She grabbed his shirt and pulled his lips back down to her own. James took this as a yes.