A/N - this is my first ever chaptered James/Lily fanfic, and the first fanfic I'm posting to this website. I have a whole plethora of others that only close friends have seen, but I may post them in the future.

Please review this; it would really help me adapt future chapters as to what readers of this website like. And please be nice – it's only my first one!

There will be a few sexual scenes later on, hence the M rating (also for infrequent language).

Enjoy!

I was determined to start this year anew. No more distractions. No more parties. No more lazy Lily. Only studying. After all, I had just been appointed Head Girl, and if I didn't set an example for NEWT studies, who will? Then again, I guess I could always rely on my fellow Head Boy to do the example setting, but as yet I had no idea who he was. I was wishing for someone smart, sensible and down to earth – Michael Dorson, maybe? He was ideal, but he did have a rep for sleeping around a bit and I wasn't sure I wanted to spend my last year at Hogwarts trying to dodge attempts from Michael's part at asking me out. I mean, a lot of people had complimented me on my glistening green eyes or fiery red hair and I knew I was lusted after by a lot of boys, but Michael? Seriously? He wasn't even that good looking. No offence.

I guess the only person I really didn't want to be sharing the post of Head Student with was, of course, James Bloody Potter. That fucking toe rag hasn't left me alone since that time in Potions in first year when I commented on how good his was brewing, and immediately the smirking and snarky comments came raining down. I guess it finally gave him an excuse to talk to me, rather than keeping up with the sideways glances I'd been getting over the past half year. "Oi Evans will you go out with me?" "Hey Evans! It's Hogsmede this weekend, wanna come?" "If you were a dementor, I'd become a criminal just to get your kiss Evans!" Evans this, Evans that, Evans fucking everything. And the comments shouted down corridors in front of everyone weren't all, either.

As if that hadn't got me a rep for being the angry, dismissive girl who wouldn't go out with the hottest guy in the year, the parcels definitely did. Nearly every day I'd get a box brought to me by my owl Eloise, carrying elaborate gifts from Potter, evidently a means of utilising the copious amounts of money his pure blood, high status family owned, while also attempting to attract my attention towards him. Well that definitely worked. It definitely brought to my attention that if a guy had resorted to buying me expensive gifts in order to glean some amount of affection out of me, I wasn't gonna respond and would, eventually, push him away even more. So after that first day when I ripped open the brown wrapping paper to reveal a crystal studded hair clip (which I kept, actually, as a way of showing that Potter that maybe I just wanted him for his money and nothing else), every time a box would land in front of me I'd give Eloise a small piece of bread (as a thanks for even bothering to bring me useless gifts) and send her straight back to the Owlery, instructing her to return the parcel to James Potter.

And it didn't even faze him.

He kept at it, gift after gift, comment after comment, bump after accidental-bump-in-the-shoulder, until I finally snapped near the end of our sixth year. After half a dozen years of enduring his constant tries of hitting on me, his sarcastic comments, his obvious attempts at trying to get me alone in abandoned classrooms, I decided to show him, once and for all, that I did not like him.

Severus Snape, of course, my best friend, who had kept me sane through six years of madness from Bloody Potter, liked me. Like liked me. But I couldn't return the feelings and he knew that, having accepted the fact in fifth year that I simply didn't see him as more than a friend. I felt I ought to maybe like him slightly better, having been the first wizard I ever talked to. He had even asked me to the Yule Ball in fourth year and was going to say yes – break up my fickle relation with Adam McRawlins later, who was my actual date to the dance – but that Bloody Potter had to walk by in his swaggering gait and lopsided smile that absolutely infuriated me whenever he flashed it in my direction, and break the moment.

"Oh Snivelly. Oh poor, poor Snivellus, asking young Lily Evans here out to the ball, two days before the event? I think you'll find she's already got a date," he had smirked, winking at me. I desperately tried to convey, through my eyes, for him to not tell Severus about Adam.

And of course that git had to go and do just that. And he knew how much it was angering me. I guess I couldn't blame him – after all, four years since we joined Hogwarts and a lot of lustful comments from James later, he had at least hoped I would accept his request to the Ball. I, naturally, had declined him on the spot. I knew he was deeply hurt, but hadn't he seen it coming? Couldn't he see that the 'apple of his eye' (as he liked to call me) was never, ever, gonna go out with him? He was just too damn cocky and annoying and just generally a fucking bastard. Four years of constant humiliation in corridors and aggravating efforts in order to attract me had toughened me up and I knew I wouldn't be seen dead going to a dance with Potter, let alone even hold hands.

My silent pleas were ignored by Potter, who looked straight at poor, shaking Severus and said plainly: "She's going with Adam McRawlings, didn't you know? Or maybe she was too ashamed to tell you that she's going with the only guy in the whole year with a dick shorter than-"

Anyway, you can see how it went. Severus didn't speak to me until a week after the ball, saying he couldn't believe I'd sunk so low. I was offended, yes. Disheartened? No. Two weeks after that and we were talking like best friends again.

But whatever. Back to that time last year.

Oh and by the way, I don't really believe in luck you know.

A masquerade ball, very kindly organised by Melanie Bowes – my once best friend but now frenemy after a rather disastrous argument with her over a stupid boy by the name of Remus who was supposedly her boyfriend but had decided to spend Hogsmede with me instead (don't get me wrong – it was just as a friend, nothing more) – was to take place on the last day of June of our sixth year. And who was invited? The whole year. Every single sixth year student, whether we be Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin, each of us received a frilly blue invite at the end of May, containing details about the 'best dance' we will have ever been to. And even if half of Slytherin didn't turn up, there was still approximately a one in seventy five chance that I would not end up dancing with a masked Potter.

And did I have any luck? Absolutely none at all. Of course, being me, I'm hardly at the receiving end of any helpful lucky occurrences.

I'll cut straight to it – we'd been holding hands, swaying to the soft song, blissfully oblivious as to who was our partner. I was actually really enjoying myself – his hard calloused hand stroking up and down my bare arms, the other one held firmly behind my back to hold me in place in front of him. We didn't even say a single word to eachother, the invisible sparks flying through us enough to convey the obvious chemistry and tension strung between the two of us. Our chests were crushed against eachothers, both of us trying to live in this moment as much as we could before having to un mask ourselves and go back to our significant others, who we had actually brought to the dance.

I don't even know how I managed to brainlessly ignore the shock of black hair sticking out behind his mask, the telltale Marauder's tattoo at the base of his thumb. How had I not known this was James? And then the song ended, and all the couples took off their masks, the boys kissed their partner's hand and returned to their dates. Except me and my partner. We were both too engrossed in our small piece of pleasurable heaven to even realise the lights go on, the music stop, and the room fall silent as over a hundred pairs of eyes focused on us. I kept staring straight into the depths of this most romantic boy's eyes, conveniently ignoring Zaria's calls of "Lily! Lily! Song's ended, babe. You can stop dancing with your guy now!"

Oh and by the way, I don't really believe in luck you know.

I eventually, reluctantly, tore myself from his grasp, making a mental note to find out later who he was and whether he was already spoken for, meaning to ask him out myself even if he didn't. I even leaned in, just then, to plant a small kiss on the side of his cheek. My heart was thudding in my ears, by breathing shallow, my –

And then my dream shattered. The mask came off, the glasses were put back on, the sarcastic smirk plastered back onto his stupid face.

"We were enjoying that rather too much, weren't we, Evans?" he winked, speaking loud enough to be heard across the quiet Great Hall.

I was stunned into silence. No way. No fucking way.

Had I just had a good time dancing with James Potter? And no way, out of so so many people, had he ended up being my partner for the final closing dance.

I was shocked, angry, and humiliated. He had known it was me, all along, and I had let my guard down. And now he knew how much I had actually savoured the dance with him, and had managed to last over five minutes without having wanted to hit that stupid grin off his face. And he was loving it. He had finally got through to the steely Lily Evans.

But what did he think? I was gonna give in now? After six whole years of defying his tries, I was just gonna walk straight into his open arms?

No way.

The anger and frustration built up inside me as I watched his grin grow wider and wider. He lifted his hand and ran it through his crazy hair. I tried to ignore the way his beautiful muscles bulged out from under his shirt. Taking up the last reserves of my humiliated strength, I raised my hand.

And slapped his irritating smile right off his face. His free hand flew to cover the burning, red skin my hand had left behind.

A few moments of silence ensued, after which I made to stalk right out of the Great Hall. But he grabbed my arm, crashing me back into him.

"Well, Evans, I can't just let you leave after such an... intimate dance, now can I?" His smirk was back on his face, his eyes conveying nothing but humour and amusement. "Did you really think that slap would hurt? Nah, you didn't put enough into it. I can tell how much you enjoyed dancing with me. Wanna do it more often, eh?"

How dare he. He was asking me out in his stupid cryptic way in front of the entire year, and if I refused I'd be forever, irrevocably labelled as the snarky bitch who wouldn't give in to the guy who pined after her, just go out with him even once. And if I accepted? I'd be stuck in an excruciating relationship with the one guy I hated with all my heart.

So it was all I could do to not slap him again; instead, I simply lowered my voice and try to make it as clear as possible to everyone who had bothered to wait around and listen to another pointless fight between Potter and Evans: "I do not like you, James Potter. And no, I will not go out with you."

He only laughed. That infuriated me more. "Of course you'll go out with me. One da– "

"I DON'T BLOODY LIKE YOU POTTER! WHEN WILL YOU GET THAT?"

At least that got the grin off his face. A rather awkward silence later, he just shrugged. And that's when my self-restraining strength finally gave in and my hand seemed to act of it's own accord, slapping him across the face again.

And then I stormed out.

But that was months ago. I'm here now, on the Express to Hogwarts, and determined to start this year fresh. Not many people seem to remember the incident from back in June – everyone I met on the platform greeted me in their usual way, congratulating me on my Head Girl badge. Zaria Glissade – my best friend – was the first to know, naturally. Having only received my badge a week ago, I decided to let her find out when I met her today.

She had freaked. In the nice way, obviously.

"No way! ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod Lily that's aweeeeeesome!" she had squealed, running up to me and giving me a high-ten in the air.

"How about you? Any badges?"

"Just some Prefect thing. Apparently I have to do nighttime patrols to make sure younger students aren't out of bed past 10. I mean, how stupid is that? That's basically giving up precious sleeping time just to impress Professor Dumbledore on responsibilities and shit that I can take up, but I don't fricking want to!"

I could see where she was coming from. Being Head Girl meant attending various meetings and adjusting rules and giving out detentions, even if they were to my own friends. I tried to console Zaria –

"Yeah, but, I'm Head Girl which means I get to sort out patrol shifts, and you can always have shift at the same time as me!"

"Seriously! Oh my god thanks! Oh and Lily?" her face fell slightly.

"What?" I hoped it wasn't anything too serious.

"I um... heard that Potter has been given some Prefect job too so..."

UGH. That meant I'd have to work with him, too, sorting out shifts according to his timetable and giving him advice on how to be a better Prefect.

Or maybe I'd just let Head Boy do that. I dunno, at least him being Prefect wasn't as bad as sharing my post of Head Student.

But wait... "What was Dumbledore thinking? Potter's got way too many detentions and his rep is awful, he never meets deadlines and is practically a model worst student!"

Zaria nodded her agreement. "I know right. But then again, he did get ten Outstandings and one Exceeds Expectations at OWLs, which, I'm afraid to say, is the same as you Lily."

Ugh. Trust Potter to prance around, being the arrogant git he is, but still fucking ace his exams and be appointed Prefect. All the teachers knew of his track record, but he was also so charming to his professors that they decided not to mind. A small rose gifted to Prof Thalia for Charms, a box of crystallised pineapple for Prof . Slughorn in Potions... the list went on. Nearly all the teachers were willing to overlook his detention record and award him the Outstanding he supposedly 'deserved'.

"Yeah... I guess. Well, on the plus side – I can give him detentions now!" and that definitely brightened the mood for both of us.

Potter had, previously, tried to hit on Zaria as well. But being a loyal and perceptive friend to me, she had politely declined, pledging her alliance to my anti-Potter way of life.

Oh, and about Severus. Since the beginning of last year, when that awful Tom Riddle boy started recruiting 'followers', me and him haven't really been speaking much. Especially since he 'accidentally' called me a mudblood last November. For nearly a year now, only small glances and acknowledging glances have been exchanged between the two of us. I miss it. I really do. The days when we were the best of friends and no dark forces were puppeteering him. But now he's been drawn into the shallow, cruel ways of so called 'Death Eaters' and I know there's no going back. I haven't really talked to him today – I only noticed his long greasy black hair disappearing into the Slytherin end of the train when I arrived at the platform. I don't think he even knows I'm Head Girl.

But anyway.

Me and Zaria happily walked through the cramped but plush corridor of the Hogwarts Express. In our compartment (conveniently chosen to be situated next to the Prefects one so that me and Zaria could easily leave whenever we were required) we met up with Camille Abbott, Joe Finnigan, Frank Longbottom, Alice Huntington, Olivia and Sam Creevey (siblings, not married, don't worry), Elena Prewett... the list went on. My entire group of friends (accumulated over six years at this school) were already seated in the magically enlarged train compartment. Our magic was good enough now that even placing a discreet enlargement charm on an entire compartment seemed like child's play.

We exchanged stories about our summer holidays (including ones about Stinking Sap, rogue Bludgers, exploding fireplaces and flying Sneakoscopes) as the train departed from the station at exactly 11 o clock. Cold, grey towns blended into scenic lush green countryside as we picked up speed and made our way towards Hogwarts. A scrawny young boy from third year came round about half an hour into the journey with a note, explaining that all Prefects and Head Boy and Girl needed to meet in the compartment by the end of the train (which happened to be the next one down from us).

A quick change into our school robes later, me and Zaria, along with Frank (who had pleasantly surprised us with his Prefect post, too) positioned our badges proudly on the front of our robes and made our way over to the next compartment.

Oh and by the way, I don't really believe in luck you know.

Head high and full of confidence, I entered the room with Zaria and Frank following close behind. Already seated were three Prefects each from Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. I took my seat next to a rather kind Prefect from Hufflepuff, by the name of Selena Chandler. She smiled politely at me, unsure of how to act in front of my newly appointed Head Girl status. I merely nodded, turning back to excitedly discuss with Zaria what this meeting could be about. Prof McGonagall, Dumbledore's assistant Headteacher, was seated at the head of the table. I've never seen her aboard the Hogwarts Express before. Maybe it's just the Prefects and Head Students that ever see her for a meeting before she goes back to her private compartment or whatever. Actually, I've never really thought about how any of the teachers get to school. Strange.

The meeting had been planned for 11:45, but it was almost 12 and there was still no sign of Head Boy. I knew this by having observed everybody's robe lapels as they filed quietly into the room. For each one, either a shot of disappointment or a surge of relief had coursed through me as I realised none of them would be sharing the post with me. A nervous knot twisted into my stomach as the room gradually grew quieter, the sound of McGonagall's impatiently tapping shoe loudly resonating through the compartment.

"Surely this boy should have more sense than to turn up late for his first meeting," she said, irritated.

And man, was she right. I felt ready to explode with apprehension, having realised that there could only be one person in the entire school who would openly disregard any time limits set on him despite having been appointed the most prestigious position any student could wish to have in the school. And I seriously thought I was about to vomit, when he sauntered in.

James Bloody Potter.

"Ah, sorry, Professor. Seemed to have lost my way slightly. A long way to this end of the train you know..."

McGonagall was not impressed.

It was all I could do not to scream in frustration at that very moment. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to strangle someone. I was even ready to give up my position as Head Girl.

Why?

Because as Potter had strolled in (over twenty minutes late, may I add) with Remus, I noticed a gleaming badge attached to the front of his robes. Remus had one, too. But I knew, instantly, that my hopes had been dashed. Remus was ideal: smart, sensible, down to earth. But for some unfathomable reason, Dumbdore had appointed him Prefect, and James was now –

"The Head Boy, Mr Potter, is required to arrive on time to all meetings and appointments. Unfortunately, I do not possess the power to take away this position of responsibility you have been assigned, but if I had, you most certainly would be the first I would consider for redundancy." McGonagall's voice rang out loud and clear, but Potter didn't falter.

And odd feeling was boiling up inside me. Nausea, combined with anger, annoyance, and a whole lot of chagrin did not make for a happy Lily. I felt like crying. I seriously did. How was this fair? What was Dumbledore playing at? Breaking any restrain my mind had over my mouth up till this current moment, I burst out with:

"Hey Potter! Shouldn't you be swapping badges with Remus?"

His head whipped round to face me, genuine surprise on his face.

"You too, Evans? Head Girl? That. Is. Awesome." His grin stretched across his face, his eyes lighting up like a young boy who's just discovered a secret stash of chocolate.

I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster. Real, real, dirty. Have I mentioned before how much I hate him?

"Yes, Potter, me too. And now kindly swap your badge with – "

"Actually, Evans, I think you'll find this badge is mine and – "

"Stop this nattering! Potter, come up and sit here," McGonagall commanded. The seat she was pointing to was directly infront of me, across the table. Remus sat next to him, an apologetic expression on his face as he looked at me sympathetically. Zaria nudged me and gave me the same look.

At least some people understood. A horrible knot had settled in my stomach at the prospect of spending – oh god – a whole year working cooperatively with bloody Potter. I was seriously contemplating suicide at this moment.

Through the entire meeting, I avoided every move on Potter's part. On a side note, he seemed to have forgotten the fiasco at the dance last year. Atleast he wasn't insulting me with that anymore (yes, throughout the last month of sixth year I'd had countless letters posted to my dorm door with stupid puns about dancing and the two of us).

I tried absolutely everything in order to avoid eye contact (hell, any contact) with Potter. I focused on every grain of wood in the table. On the intricate pattern embroidered into the curtains. On every raindrop sliding down the window, mentally racing different ones. I absent-mindedly made notes on inconsequential (or so I thought) things McGonagall was saying. I didn't absorb most of the duties she said I'd have to do, only realising them once the meeting had ended and we were free to go (and I was free from Potter's infuriating presence).

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

I didn't even notice Zaria was speaking.

"Lily?"

"Yeah, sorry?" I looked up from my notebook.

"It sucks, what she said about the Head Students' duties, right?"

"Er yeah, um..."

At that point, Potter brushed passed me, accidentally-on-purpose hitting my shoulder.

"Hey, Evans. Looking forward to the best year of your life?" he had the cheek to wink at me again. I opened the door to my compartment, ready to walk in, but he grabbed my arm.

I rolled my eyes, my teeth clenching, mentally making a note to learn zen this year and find my 'inner peace' so as to not be affected by Potter anymore.

"We're gonna have so much fun you know..." with a loud laugh, he rushed away with Sirius, back to his compartment further down the train.

God, I hated him.

Just as I was about to close the sliding door behind me, I heard Potter shout out.

"Hey, Evans?"

Mentally reprimanding myself for bothering to stick my head back out to listen to him, I said:

"What now?"

Then his tone turned serious. "Congratulations, by the way. For, you know, Head Girl," he said sincerely. I was surprised. I hardly ever saw this side of him. I was taken aback, not fully aware of what I said next.

"You too, Potter." He looked as if he'd just won the wizarding lottery. Lily Potter had actually said something nice to him! I couldn't help but laugh as well, but quickly cut it short. I wasn't gonna laugh at a shared thing with Potter. No way. He turned and ducked back into his room, and I stepped back into mine.

"How'd it go?" Alice asked, stroking Frank's arm lovingly as he sat back down. "You know, I'm so, so proud of you darling." They leaned in for a kiss, and I turned my attention to Elena, who was asking to see my notes. I handed them over.

I watched with growing unease as her eyes widened. Every one of my friends (hell, everyone in the whole school) knew of my loathing of Potter.

"Um, Lily? You do realise what McGonagall's said you guys have got to do?"

I snatched the diary from her hands and read my notes back to myself.

Night patrols 9-12 head+head, prfcts other flrs.

Prfct advice sessions

Meet w dumbledore every last day of month

Private discussion meetings, head+head, once month

Private discussion meetings. Just me and Potter. Once a month, meaning at least 10 times this year (not including December, hopefully, for Christmas). And night patrols? Together?

How bloody long was I gonna have to spend with him this year?

Fuck.

A/N

sorry for no Sirius in this chapter. I just had to get the whole Lily-is-annoyed-at-James stuff. More Sirius in the next one!

reviews are a girl's best friend

(and encourage them to write more chapters)

:)

A/N UPDATE 17th MAY: I'm so so sorry I haven't updated yet, but thankyou to all the awesome people out there who've already put my story on the alert thingy! my temporary (and extremely annoying) absence is due to the fact i've got important-for-life GCSE exams next week, then a Duke of Edinburgh expedition next weekend (these two things will make sense to people from UK) so I don't actually have much time to write :(

but I promise you (I won't go too far and make the Vow but anyway) the next chapter will be longer and better!