She's giving him that look - that look that he loves, with her nose scrunched and her eyes squinting. She looks slightly cross-eyed, and he tells her that, too.

'You know that I'm right, though.'

'I know that you think that you're right,' James Potter answers, not even trying to hide his smile. He nudges Lily's foot beneath the table, with his own. 'If that is any consolation.'

Lily kicks back, harder. 'That's utter baloney, Potter. Marcie Moggs has been making sheep's eyes for ages. Look at her-'

'Sheep's eyes, Evans? How old are you?'

She sighs in utter exasperation. 'For the past hour and a half, Marcie has been watching you. Gazing at you. She's a predator.'

'We're discussing Marcie Moggs,' James says, grinning. 'I thought we were studying-'

'Studying the behaviour of the womenfolk,' Lily presses on, earnestly. She props her elbows on the surface of the table and widens her twinkling eyes. 'Marcie has been asking me about you,' she continued, flicking her gaze towards the Ravenclaw gaggle of girls.

James turns around in his chair to face the throng of his alleged admirers, and almost topples to the floor in shock - Merlin, Evans is right - on one of the tables perches Marcie Moggs, with her legs crossed elegantly and her friends huddling around her. Gulping, James turns back to Lily, who is smiling, the tips of her ears red.

'Studying womenfolk? Evans, they're going to eat me!'

Lily laughs, and James momentarily forgets what they were speaking of. Lily's laugh always disconcerted James - he is still not used to the idea that he, James Potter, can make Lily Evans laugh so hard that she'd spit out her pumpkin juice. (She has done that quite a few times, and James views it as a personal achievement.)

'They just want a little taste,' she chuckles, almost hiccupping - James notes that Lily does not giggle or titter - she laughs, a deep laugh that erupts and bubbles out of her lips, uninhibited and contagious. James finds himself smiling harder, too. 'And - well, Marcie wanted me to put in a good word for her. Since, you know - we do spend a lot of time together.'

'Marcie wanted you to advertise her to me?'

'Well, you haven't dated anyone for a while - not since Karen, and that ended months ago.' Lily shifts uncomfortably in her hair. 'And Marcie fancies you. You just never notice that kind of thing.' Lowering her gaze, she continues to study her piece of parchment intently.

'You're not friends with Marcie, are you?'

And then the normal Lily is back again, wrinkling her nose and squinting her eyes at him. 'Not particularly, no. But Marcie's nice, isn't she?'

'Flitwick is nice,' James says. 'Doesn't mean I'd invite him to Hogsmeade and snog the living daylights out of him.'

'Are you sure?' James glances up, and Lily's neck is flushed. She impatiently pushes her hair back from her shoulders and ties it up loosely at the back of her head. 'Filius is quite the charmer.' Though her face is still slightly red, her lips curl into a wide smile, and James pretends to fall off his chair in agony.

'You kill me Evans; you really do...'

'My pleasure, Potter.' And perhaps the words would have stung a few years ago, but they are accompanied by a smile and warm eyes and James couldn't care less about Marcie Moggs - he really couldn't.