If I ever fell in love with a man, I'd want him to smell like apples.
Not fake, like apple shampoo. Real apples. Real, crisp, cold, icy, golden apples.
I'd want to run my fingers through his hair and pull his head towards me. I'd want to stick my nose into his soft locks and breath deeply.
I am an unassuming girl of seventeen, with pale skin and green eyes. I am medium height and thin. I am quiet.
I stared out the window of the train, resting my forehead against the cool glass. Outside it was raining and windy. My fingers were falling asleep, pressed in between pages of a water-stained book.
I glanced down out of the corner of my eye. I stretched my hands and started picking at a small hole in the knee of my jeans, fraying the edges.
The only man I have ever met, I mused, that smells like apples, is sitting two compartments down and across the hall. He has dark hair and gold-flecked hazel eyes. I could see him—an imaginary reflection in the glass. He's tall, with thin, lithe muscles. He's intelligent. He plays the piano...and Quidditch. His wand is made of dark-stained wood. His skin is smooth, a better shade of pale than mine.
I didn't particularly like James Potter, but only because I didn't particularly know him. He kept to himself mostly. He had a few close friends who were far more outgoing, but still. I'd never really known him that well, and the few times I had spoken to him, he seemed...well, too strange and interesting for me. And a little...stuck up.
I don't like change. It was hard enough accepting the letter I received on my eleventh birthday. What a fine hoax—something dreamt up by my sister Petunia. The fact that a week later a pub called the Leaky Cauldron had appeared before my eyes in Muggle London was proof that I was going insane. Too many years cooped up in a private Catholic school, maybe. But there it was: magic before my wondering eyes.
After that I accepted the truth, but I still wasn't completely convinced. Sure, sure, a secret cult society worshiping magic and the old ways has invited me to attend their best school for educational magical practices. Under the watchful eye of Albus Dumbledore himself, they had crowed in the pub. The finest wizard walking the earth. Dumbledore has brought an era of peace, and I was going to be one of his pupils.
I puffed air out between my lips and it fogged up the window.
Dad was so proud. You're in your seventh year now, Lily! I'm—
Ecstatic? So am I.
The train rattled and my eyes refocused on the upholstery on the seat across from me. A knock sounded at the door. It slid open. I blinked.
"Anything from the trolley, dear?" The woman smiled kindly and swept a hand over the display.
"Yes, please." I stood up. "May I have some sugar quills?"
"One Sickle, please, love." I hand over the coin and took the quills. The woman started sliding down narrow hall as I muttered a small thank you. I looked down out the door and to the left. James Potter was emerging from his compartment, back first. He had a book in his hand. I looked him up and down slowly. He was wearing dark jeans and a black Muggle-style jacket. It fit him nicely. His hair was sticking up in the back of his head, like he had been sleeping on it, and I longed to run my hands through it.
He turned and glanced at me, holding my gaze. He nodded. The corner of his mouth pulled up into a small, lopsided smile. I smiled back and began to retreat into my compartment.
"Hey, hold up!" He jogged to me. He put his arm on the frame of the door and leaned slightly. My hand was only a foot under his, and I could feel my fingers twitch. "How was your summer, Lily?"
"It was very pleasant," I replied, telling the truth. I hadn't done much, but I did enjoy being back in the Muggle world... Why was he talking to me? "And you?"
"Fantastic." He looked around me into my compartment. "Are you sitting alone? Would you like to join us?" he asked quietly before I could answer. I noticed a strange glint in his eyes. They were more topaz today, with navy blue rims.
"Uhhh..." My voice faltered and a light blush graced my cheeks. I looked at my book. It was sitting on the seat with the spine cracked. My small leather backpack sat at the foot of the seat, already packed.
"Come on, Lily. Join us. I promise I won't let Sirius bite you." He chuckled freely. His hair bounced. My blush deepened.
"Well all right. Let me just grab my—"
"No worries, I've got it." He brushed past me, grabbing my shoulders as he pushed me over, and then grabbed my bag. He put his book under his arm before picking up mine. He looked at it for a minute. "Good book."
I followed him to his compartment. Sirius Black sat with his feet up on the seat across from him, tossing an unfurled snitch up and down in his palm. He grinned. Remus Lupin had his nose in the Daily Prophet, but he looked up as I entered. Peter Pettigrew was in the other corner, doodling in a Potions textbook. I edged in meekly after James. He tossed my bag up in the rack and took a seat, patting the space next to him. I sat obediently.
"Hello, Lily," smiled Remus. I answered back.
"Lily was sitting alone, so I invited her to come sit with us." James looked at my hands, which were clenched around my sugar quills in my lap. "Oh nice, those are my favorite! May I have one?" He reached over, his fingers curling around mine as he peeled one of my hands off the package of quills. I felt the most amazing electric shock go through my fingertips. His hands were strangely warm compared to mine. I felt him flinch slightly. His eyes met mine and I was instantly captured. I felt my mouth drop open a quarter of an inch. "Jesus, Lily, your hands are cold." I snapped out of my trance as he pulled away. I noticed him pout his lips as he looked away from me, as if he were trying not to frown.
"You can have one." I handed him the package of quills, trying not to touch him again. "Remus? Sirius, Peter?" I held out the package. They declined.
"We've got frogs," Sirius said, a cheeky grin still on his face.
"I'll trade you one," I said, trying to barter. "I still have never gotten a Dumbledore. I'm dying for one. My dad really wants to see him."
"Alright, alright." Sirius looked excited as he pulled out a Chocolate Frog box and tossed it across the compartment to me. I passed him a quill, which he stuck in his mouth. He began sucking on it in a very noisy way. I made a face. "Oh, Lily, I know you love it."
"So, Lily? What's the verdict?" James asked. He peered over my shoulder as I began to pull open the box. As soon as it was open he reached over and pulled out the frog, popping it into his mouth before I even had a chance. I frowned at him, but didn't say anything. I pulled out the card.
"Dumbledore. Very sweet."
I was named Head Girl over the summer, an honor I didn't think I was really worthy of. I hated any kind of attention, so I was somewhat terrified when Dumbledore announced during the feast that I was Head.
I was sitting next to James Potter, still hanging out with him and his friends. I was already fidgeting uncomfortably in my seat—the combination of nerves about the inevitable annunciation, and the fact that most of the Gryffindor table was staring at me with wide eyes. People don't just sit with Sirius Black and his crew, his Marauders.
"I'd like to take a moment to appreciate our new Head Boy and Girl this coming year: Lily Evans." I stood up shakily in my seat, my eyes wide and my hands clenched together in front of me. "And James Potter." I looked at him swiftly. He stood up and glanced at me, a grin lighting his face. "Let's give a round of applause for both and wish them luck!" My face burned until I was able to sit down again.
James leaned over to me. "I didn't know you were Head Girl," he breathed in my ear. His breath was like a beautiful mix of strange spices and that sweet apple sent, better than your mum's apple pie, or apple-tinged Butterbeer, or...or... My eyes fluttered closed briefly. His scent was better than sex.
"I didn't know you were Head Boy," I muttered. He studied my face intently. I had my face only slightly tilted towards him, and I was looking at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked down. My hands were clenched around the edge of the table. He chuckled under his breath. He reached out and took my hand in his, then slid them under the table. He rubbed circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, and my hand instantly relaxed. What was he doing? What was I doing?
He must have seen the expression on my face.
"If this bothers you..." He trailed off. I shook my head. "I just want you to relax. You seem so nervous. You get stage fright?" I nodded mutely, staring at him. "Hmmm, curious. I don't."
"I guess that means you can do all the Head duties that involve being in front of people, then," I joked. He grinned before turning back to his food.
After the feast, Professor McGonagall lead us to our Head dorms. The entrance was a painting of a shy-looking girl in a white dress. She curtsied to us as we approached.
"Good evening, Professor." Her voice sounded like bells.
"Good night, Bella. How are you?" McGonagall smiled at the portrait.
"I'm fine, Minerva. Are these the two new Heads?" She peered at me and James.
"Yes. This is Lily Evans." The professor indicated me with a sweep of her hand. "And James Potter."
"How do you do, miss?" James asked. He smiled a sweet lopsided grin at the girl. She chuckled.
"Charmed. The password is Shepherds' Pie." The portrait swung open, revealing a wood door. McGonagall opened the door and gestured for them to go up the stairs.
"I hope you will find your arrangements satisfactory."
"Thank you, Professor."
"You are quite welcome, Mr. Potter. Goodnight."
The door swung shut, and James and I were left in the dark stairwell. He cleared his throat. "After you, Lily." I head up and emerged into a small common room that looked not unlike the one in Gryffindor Tower. I smiled at the fire burning against one wall. James grabbed my shoulders and pushed me farther in so he could see. "Holy shit. Very nice," he approved. I snickered. "Ooh ooh, my room!" He pranced over to a door with his name on it, pulled it open, and went inside. "Sweeeet," I heard him say. It was muffled through the walls.
I went to my door, hesitating only slightly before pulling it open. Inside was a four poster like my old one in Gryffindor Tower, a desk, and a wardrobe. My things were already put away. I went and flopped down on my bed.
A door opened on the right side of my bed. I turned my head as James emerged.
"Oooh, Lily's room..." He walked over to my desk and ran his fingertips along the books on my bookshelf. "That's the bathroom. It's really nice." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the door.
"I see."
"Can I borrow this?" He held up a book. I squinted my eyes to see what it was. "Great Expectations. This is a Muggle book, yes? Charlie Dickinson..." He looked at the cover again. "Oh, Charles Dickens. Sorry." He looked up with a frown on his face. My fingers tingled pleasantly as I watched him. "So, may I?"
"Sure, sure." I sat up.
"Also, I was thinking..." He walked over to my wardrobe and opened it up. James is a nosy bastard, I thought. It made the corners of my mouth twitch up. "Can I give you a nickname? I think we should be friends now." He whirled around to face me, and suddenly his eyes were boring into mine, liquid copper. "I like you." My cheeks heated up under his gaze, but I couldn't avert my eyes. Truth be told, I have to admit I had a disastrous crush on James Potter, and I had since third year, when he was my partner in Potions class one day. He had spilled acid into our cauldron without thinking, and I, thinking on my feet as usual, had saved him from a nasty burn and an impending explosion. He had thrown his head back and laughed. It surprised me—he had always been very shy, yet still arrogant.
"I mean, really, we should be friends." I snapped out of my reverie when I felt him flop down on my bed. He wiggled up until he had his head on the pillow next to me. "Lily flower," he proclaimed. He smiled at me.
I'm not the kind of girl that goes so gooey over a guy, but James Potter sure had me. I was usually very strong-willed, independent, and though I was shy, I had a temper and an outgoing streak in me that I did show every now and again. My dad called me stubborn, but sweet.
"No, I hate that name." I scowled at him. He pouted.
"Tiger Lily? Or...Lilykins. Lils. Lillian?" I shook my head to each.
"I like Lily, plain and simple."
His eyes burned for a second. "Lily isn't a plain name. I think it's nice."
I had it bad. And it seemed like he might have something for me, too.
No, I told myself. James Potter is a bad can of worms, one that should not be opened. If I want to be in love with a Marauder, I should try Peter, or Remus, I reasoned. Remus is intelligent and handsome. We have gotten along very well in the past.
James seems like he could push my buttons in the wrong way.
Or in the best way...
He reached over and brushed my red hair out of my face. Again I felt the shock from his fingertips. My lips parted.
"I guess we can try being friends," I said quietly. Oh yes, please, yes.
"Good." His tone matched mine. He leaned towards me and kiss my cheek softly. The feel of his skin on my cheek was heaven. I inhaled stealthily, trying to memorize his apple scent. He pulled away. "You smell quite good," he said, reading my mind. "Like..." He leaned over and put his nose in my hair. Oh my god. "Hmmmm...the ocean. The breeze off the ocean mixed with sand on a cold day." His arm had slid around my waist to hold me to the bed. He pulled up and away, now looking down at me. His eyes melted again and he cocked his head. "Why haven't I looked at you before? Really looked..." I felt my eyebrows pull down into a frown. "Wow, sorry, Lily. That was a very creepy thing to say.
He pulled away from me and I exhaled the breath I had been holding. He was on his back next to me again.
"No, I understand." I paused, returning my breathing to normal. "I like looking at people, too. I draw them. I love it..."
"Can I see some?"
"Sure, sure, but not tonight, if that's okay." I brushed my hair out of my face with one hand.
"In return I'll show you the song I've been working on," he whispered, as if sharing a secret.
"Sounds lovely."