She hadn't been disappointed when she found out Potter had been made Head Boy. He wasn't the ideal choice, of course, but it could've been worse. It could've been Avery, who'd made prefect their fifth year after sucking up to Slughorn for months (and she still wonders how much it cost him – and how many bags of candied pineapples and boxes of chocoballs and bottles of nettled wine that translated into). Potter wasn't really Head Boy – or even prefect – material, but if her biggest set back to being Head Girl was being both Head students in essence, she wasn't about to complain. She'd wanted to be Head Girl more than she'd ever dared herself to admit or realize, and now that she'd managed it she wasn't going to do anything jeopardize the position.
She'd set to work immediately once they got to Hogwarts, drafting up schedules for patrolling and writing out lists of rules and duties for the new fifth years, and when it came time for the first proper meeting of the year (because the one on the Train hadn't counted, really – everyone went to it but it was almost more of a catch up session than anything else, prefects of all years chatting about their hols and meeting and congratulating the new prefects and sure there was some talk of guidelines but really they were the bare bones) Lily has parchment after parchment spread across her desk in a very precise and careful order. She's owled all of last year's prefects and the new ones when and where to meet and even ordered a couple packages of licorice wands from Honeydukes.
They wander in, in ones and twos and even the rare group of three, until all the seats are filled and they're chatting mostly amicably amongst themselves. One or two sit sullen at the edge of the room (Avery, of course, is one of them, surely furious that he'd been snubbed despite the galleons he must've had his father spend to send tarts and treacles and fudge to Dumbledore), but for the most part the prefects seem friendly, engaged. After another few minutes just to allow everyone to exchange class schedules and chat, Lily clears her throat.
"All right, then, welcome back everyone! So we're just going to go over all of the rules today and then hand out the schedules, and we'll do questions at the end if anyone has anyway. In case you don't remember from the other day, I'm Lily, the Head Girl…"
She's only just started her speech, is halfway through the welcomes and introductions of new faces when the door opens, and she hasn't really expected anyone else –
And then he walks in – strolls in, really – nodding at Remus who sits near the front of the classroom.
"Sorry I'm late, Evans – business calls and all that, you understand."
His voice is smug, his mouth quirked into some approximation of a grin, but there's something in his eyes that she can't quite identify. As if oblivious to the frown she shoots his way, the wrinkle in her brow, he makes his way to the front of the room and hoists himself onto the desk beside her, as if that was where he's always belonged.
"Continue on then, didn't mean to interrupt," he says, and it's only after he speaks that she realizes she's stopped entirely to stare at him.
"Er, right, then, so the rules –"
The rest of the meeting goes mostly as expected, with Lily explaining rules and handing out schedules and the only thing she hasn't counted on is James standing up at the front with her. He doesn't contribute much beyond snide comments and jokes (and most of the prefects laugh at each and every one, and she can't help but feel a little rankled that they're enjoying the meeting more with him there than they had before he'd arrived), but he's there, standing at the front as if he's half responsible for the whole thing, as if he's done any work to prepare at all. It's only once everyone else has left (and he'd seen everyone out, joking and laughing all the way and finally closing the door behind them, even Remus who he'd promised to find later) that he turns to look at her again.
"Were you just not going to tell me about the meeting, then?" he starts, and it's only once she hears the hard, harsh tone of his voice that she even realizes he's mad.
"I didn't think –"
"Didn't think what, that Remus would mention it to me? That I'd hear about it? I'm Head Boy, Evans – you don't have to be happy about it, but I am."
"But you're not," she interrupts, the words falling out of her mouth before she's even really processed them. He looks surprised for a moment then, before glaring, opening his mouth to respond, and she continues quickly before he can speak. "I mean, you are of course, Dumbledore picked you, but you're not really going to do it, are you?"
"Why wouldn't I do it?" This time when he speaks, though, his words are slower, more careful, and while he's surprised her every moment up until now she can tell that this is the first thing she's said that's caught him off-guard.
"Well, I mean – I mean, you've got Quidditch and all that. You're the captain of the team and you'll be busy with setting practices for that. You won't have time to do patrolling and scheduling on top of all of the early morning runs and late night flying and drills. And you're not going to give up Quidditch to be Head Boy – you can't anyway, I won't allow it, not after we lost abysmally last year to Ravenclaw because I can't face another loss like that again, Potter, and with you as Captain we've really got a shot to win the Cup again –"
He cuts her off then because she's babbling at this point and it's probably for the best really that she stop talking.
"First of all, Evans, of course we're going to win the Cup. You don't need to worry about that. Second of all, it's my business whether or not I'll have time to be Head Boy, so I don't need you deciding for me, yeah? So unless you've got any other reasons you don't think I should do it –"
"I mean you've never really followed any Hogwarts rules – I'm not entirely sure you knew there were rules before this meeting – so I didn't figure you'd be one to enforce them –"
"Dumbledore picked me to be Head Boy –"
"Dumbledore also let Slughorn pick Avery for prefect – not that I'm comparing the two of you!"
She has to shut herself up before she really says anything more, and for a second they just stand there and look at each other and Lily realizes with the slightest bit of alarm that he's still red-faced and worked up, his fingers tense as if they might curl into fists at any moment, and she has to stop herself from reaching out to touch his arm.
"I just meant – well, I didn't think you'd want to be Head Boy, really. I was sort of resigned to doing it all by myself – but if you want to – if you actually want to be Head Boy – well, it'd probably be nice not to have to do it all on my own."
He looks unsure still, as if he's not fully prepared to believe everything he's hearing, but when she sticks out a hand towards him he takes it.
"Partners, then?" she asks, and the look she offers him is nearly a smile.
"Partners."