Heavy Lids
Lily stepped through the Gryffindor entrance into the empty common room with a sigh. Why did Severus have to be so insistent? She had always loved him, but like a brother, like a friend. Now and again her mind would wander back to the happiness of those days; of the contentment that came with finding someone who was similar to you. But now, he was taking it all too far. His friends were cruel and mean, and she feared he might be going the same way. On top of that, all her school work was getting behind – her mind strayed further and further from her schooling each day and severely impacted on her education. Professor McGonagall had actually taken her to the side today and asked her if anything was wrong. Lily loved the teacher, but knew that this was not a common occurrence, and was only reserved for drastic situations. The warm reds and golds of the common room provided a welcome, slightly happier feeling in her stomach. But once more, her memory pushed the thought of late homework into her head and she sighed again. If she was even going to pass this year, she was going to have to work overtime. Her good reputation with the teachers would only get her grades so far. Lily dropped her bag on one of the empty armchairs and landed with a thunk next to the small table in front of the fire, commonly used for studying. The flames had died down now, but a warm heat radiated from the smouldering coals. She retrieved her Herbology homework from her bag and set to work.
For almost five minutes she was uninterrupted, save for the sighs she let loose every few seconds. Then: a creaking from the direction of the boy's dormitory. She hoped it wasn't Remus; he could be rather snappy late at night sometimes, and so she continued to focus on the yellowed parchment in front of her. She'd always loved writing with a quill – it was so different from the ball point pens she used at home. But it wasn't Remus, it was James Potter; the handsome, slightly arrogant boy in her year that constantly made fun if Severus. But she couldn't be angry; at either of them. She could only feel saddened by their juvenility and the discord which they seemed intent on injecting into each other's lives. The tall Gryffindor smiled crookedly at her dishevelled hair, tired eyes and mountains of paperwork.
"What do you want?" she asked, sharper than she meant. He shrugged, still grinning.
"I heard the exasperated exhalations of a damsel being attacked by her education." She snorted.
"Well, this 'damsel' does not need your rescuing, thank you very much. You may as well go back to your dormitory. You know, where you're meant to be?"
"Shouldn't you be there too then?" he asked, almost all his teeth showing. She gave in, too tired to argue.
"What do you want, Potter?" she asked again, softer this time.
"I want to help." he said. And there was such truth and earnestness in his eyes that Lily felt no choice but to pat the floor next to her in invitation. The sixth year seemed to be filled with contained joy. He almost skipped over to where she sat and took sat down a little less gracefully than was necessary (assumedly for Lily's enjoyment). She cleared her throat and began to read her textbook quietly. James sat looking expectantly. After about five minutes of this awkward silence Lily asked, "Are you going to teach me or what?" He was flustered, nervous and shy, but James Potter steeled himself and told this beautiful red-head all that he knew about the subject. They studied well into the night (she actually got a lot done) but when dawn started sneaking through the ancient window, the Lily realised she didn't want this boy to go. Years later she still wouldn't know if it was attraction or sleep-deprivation that caused her to kiss him, but she did. And Lily Potter knew that it was the best decision she ever made.