"We need a Sneakoscope," James Potter announced. They were having breakfast in the Great Hall, surrounded by the clattering of cutlery and the loud voices of the other students.

"Okay," said Peter Pettigrew promptly. "Why?"

"Because," said James with a shrug. "They're useful. My dad has one," he added, as if that clinched the matter.

"Where do you even get one of those?" asked Sirius Black, speaking around a mouthful of semi-masticated toast. Remus Lupin made a quiet noise of disgust, which Sirius chose to ignore.

"You can get them at Zonko's," said James confidently.

"No, you can't," said a new voice. James looked up, startled. Lily Evans was sitting across the table, a few seats down, apparently having listened to their entire conversation.

"Evans!" said James indignantly, "are you eavesdropping?"

Lily gave him a very patronizing look. "Maybe if you're so worried about eavesdroppers, Potter, you shouldn't discuss your big, secret plans in the Great Hall where everyone can hear you. Zonko's doesn't carry Sneakoscopes."

"Yes, it does," said James, with perfect certainty.

"No, it doesn't," said Lily, in exactly the same tone of voice.

"Don't you think, Evans, that I might possibly know the contents of Zonko's a bit better than you do, considering you don't go to joke shops quite as often as I do?"

"I go to joke shops," said Lily, bristling, "and anyway, I know they don't have Sneakoscopes, because I specifically looked for one last year, and I couldn't find one."

"Well, you probably didn't look properly."

Lily made an offended little scoffing noise. "I beg your pardon. Look, meet me at Zonko's next Hogsmeade weekend, and I will prove to you that they don't carry Sneakoscopes."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Lily shoved her last bite of oatmeal into her mouth and stood up. Gathering her schoolbooks, she got up to go, her hair tumbling down her back. James watched her go; she walks as if she were dancing, he thought—

Sirius elbowed him much harder than strictly necessary, and James choked and almost fell into his scrambled eggs. "So, Hogsmeade date with Evans?" he asked, and James, wiping little egg bits off of his glasses, said nothing.

It isn't a date, James reminded himself several times a day for the next two and a half weeks, she probably won't even show up—because really, how much did it matter if Zonko's carried Sneakoscopes? They had been having these ridiculous arguments for weeks now, fighting about anything, no matter how small, but neither of them really cared, surely. Still, he couldn't help a little flicker of anticipation as he walked down the Main Street alone, having left his friends at the school gates. ("Oh my god, Prongs is abandoning us!" Sirius cried, clutching at his heart. ) Trying not to seem too obvious, he scanned the street, looking for a flash of red.

Nothing. She hadn't come—she had probably been joking, or she had forgotten, or she had remembered that she hated James—there were any number of reasons for Lily Evans' absence. Maybe she hadn't even come to Hogsmeade—it was snowing hard, and the wind was blowing ferociously between the cottages, gusting under the eaves. She was probably sitting in the common room, warming at the fireside with all her friends, having a good laugh at that prat, James Potter.

He slipped into Zonko's and started to glance through the shelves. It wasn't like he was going out of his way to meet Lily, after all, he had a list of things to buy, and if he glanced out of the window a bit more often than necessary, well, who was counting?

This isn't a date, Lily told herself firmly, peering at her reflected self in the window. She fussed with her hair for a moment, and then, realizing she was in danger of becoming an icicle, she squared her shoulders and walked inside. Her cheeks and nose were red, her eyes very bright and her hair disheveled, falling down her back.

He was there, she thought, with an odd squirming feeling in her stomach. He actually came. He hadn't turned around at the sound of the small silver bell hanging above the shop door, and he had taken a small box off the shelf and was reading the back intently, frowning a little. He had a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck, but his ears were still rather pink from the cold, and his hair was very messy, as though he had just rolled out of bed.

She walked right up to him without his noticing it, and said, almost breathlessly, "Hello, Potter."

He started. "Lily!" he said, surprised, and, she thought, maybe pleased. She could tell she had caught him off his guard—he didn't usually call her by her first name.

She actually came, he was thinking, and then he realized he was staring. He hadn't paid enough attention to her nose before—really, he thought, it was everything a nose ought to be—and her eyes seemed an even brighter shade than usual.

She took a moment to remember why she was there. Not just thinking about James Potter rolling out of bed, no, there was a reason, wasn't there, something ridiculous they had been fighting about—a Sneakoscope.

"Have you been looking?" she asked.

"Looking for what?" he asked in turn, and then, catching himself, "wait, yes. I mean, no."

She looked at him skeptically, with her eyebrows raised and her lips quirked. "What?"

"I haven't been looking for a Sneakoscope, no," he said, regaining his composure. "I thought I should wait for you."

"I hope you haven't waited long," said Lily, mock-courteous, just the trace of a smile on her face.

"Don't worry Evans, I wouldn't put myself to any trouble on your account," said James with a smirk. (Half an hour—that wasn't any trouble, not for her anyway.)

She looked at him for a moment, biting her lip. "Okay, let's go."

They looked through the whole store, combing through shelves, shifting boxes, occasionally upending stacks of merchandise. Simply asking the store clerk, James assured Lily, would be cheating, and anyway he was shooting them nasty looks as they pushed around the carefully arranged displays, laughing like little kids.

"Sorry! Sorry!" said Lily as a tower of Dungbombs collapsed around her, "hold on, wait, I can fix this—give me a hand, Potter—oh no—"

"Okay, you're right, you're always right, fine…"

Lily smiled very smugly. "Yes, I am."

The snow had let up a bit, and they could actually carry out a conversation outside, even though they had to tuck their faces into their scarves and push their hands into their pockets.

"I mean, they could have had one somewhere in the back," added James, "somewhere we couldn't look before we got kicked out."

"Potter! Don't be a sore loser."

"Fine!" said James again. "Hey, can I buy you a butterbeer?"

She gave him a sideways look.

"No," she said bluntly, and his face froze for a split second, before she continued, "but you can sit with me while I buy myself a butterbeer. And, you can, you know, get yourself one."

He let out a surprised huff of laughter, and it appeared as white mist in front of him. "All right, if that's how you want to do it."

She elbowed him, grinning, and then he really laughed.

"Remind me why you wanted a Sneakoscope in the first place?"

"Ah, Evans, I can't tell you all my secrets…"

Lily snickered, but James wasn't any more forthcoming.

"Why were you looking for a Sneakoscope all last year?"

Lily bit her lip again, and James almost tripped over his own feet.

"I thought Petunia might have been reading my letters," she said after a pause. "Petunia's my sister."

James nodded—he knew, of course, she had mentioned Petunia before, but he didn't see the point in bringing up just how well he remembered every conversation he had ever had with Lily Evans. "You don't get along, then?" he asked.

"Not really," said Lily. "Do you have brothers or sisters?"

"Nope, just me," said James cheerfully.

They had reached the Three Broomsticks—it was surprising they had taken so long, really, but then they had been walking along so very slowly—and they stopped in front, Lily turning to look up at James. Snow was blowing in both of their faces, and James' glasses were fogging up. They both hesitated for a moment, and then they spoke at the same time.

"Look—"

"Evans—"

"You go first," said Lily quickly.

James shook his head. "It's not important."

"Oh—neither's mine."

He was watching her with a very strange expression on her face, and it occurred to her suddenly how close together they were standing, the white mist of their breaths mingling, how he had his head tilted forward to look at her—she really was so much shorter than him—and then she could hear her pulse pounding in her ears. Absurd—this was James Potter, of all people, and she must be going mad.

"Sorry," he said quietly, stepping back a little bit, and the moment was over.

She looked at him, wondering, and then she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside the Three Broomsticks.