Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is a genius. Enough said.


Stolen Glances and Drawing Conclusions

James Potter's glasses are once again crooked, Lily absently notes, sneaking a quick look at the boy as he lays sprawled on the ground beside the common room fireplace. She knows full well that she should instead be focusing on her own Transfiguration assignment but try as she might focus seems foreign to her these days.

A part of her, a very small part, which would crop up at the most inopportune moments, itches to walk up to him and fix his spectacles so that at least she can have some semblance of sanity left within her. Lily glares at the unsuspecting boy for good measure, as if it's somehow his fault that she's finding him so incredibly distracting lately. It has come to a point where she doesn't even bother being unnerved by it. He doesn't notice, of course.

He stopped noticing months ago, a tiny, mean voice tells her. So in an attempt to perhaps demean the onslaught of feelings towards the boy she once so foolishly vowed to never have anything to do with, she starts counting all his flaws. Physical ones, because even Lily Evans, the queen of make-believe and delusion can't deny that James Potter has undergone a remarkable personality transformation (or maybe he's just grown-up, that tiny voice of reason again interjects) and the search for flaws is quite difficult if not impossible.

If Lily were to define James Potter in one word, she'd inevitably say he's 'crooked'. His round-rimmed glasses sit crookedly on the bridge of his nose; his tie although still tied is always, always askew a little to the right around his neck and when he's especially in a playful mood, he grins crookedly. His head of unruly charcoal hair defy all laws of physics and stick up at odd angles yet he remains as handsome as ever.

It is as if doing things the normal way is impossible for this boy who despite being appointed Head Boy still relishes in toeing the line and bending rules and regulations. A boy, who finds great joy in choosing to take the longest route possible to reach first period Transfiguration with his mates, when he knows that he's liable to arrive late, just to see how far he can test his luck.

This beautiful, idiotic, proud, ridiculously charming, reckless prat of a boy, who has firmly lodged himself in Lily Evans' thoughts (and heart, much to chagrin of the red-head) remains miraculously unaware of the poor girl's dilemma and the stolen glances she frequently sends towards him as of late.

Lily sighs resignedly and turns back to her work, mentally berating herself for behaving like a hopelessly love-struck fourteen year old instead of the strong, independent woman she always perceived herself as.

She gets her essay half-written before she senses someone's presence near her and lifts her head to meet a pair of startlingly hazel eyes looking directly at her. Lily yelps at the sudden proximity and then promptly blushes to the roots of her hair.

"'lo Evans!" James Potter greets her sounding highly amused.

"Hello Potter. What do you want?" Lily mutters trying to regain her dignity.

"Well that's a question I came to ask you actually." The Marauder comments lightly, fixing her with a curious stare.

"Stop talking gibberish Potter and spit it out." She snaps because although James Potter may have grown-up and become a decent human being he still manages to get under her skin and she resents him for it.

"You see, Lily-dearest, I was sitting way over there," he points near the fireplace where he was sitting before, "minding my own business when little fourth-year Reggie Davis comes up to me and informs me that our dear beautiful Head Girl is trying to bore a hole in my head with all the staring."

Lily knows that she must be blushing with a colour so bright she had never thought was possible but James continues innocently, "So you understand my curiosity then, don't you Evans? It was only fair I come and investigate."

"Potter there is no reason for me to stare at you. Sending you the occasional death glares, sure, but not staring. Never staring." Lily glares pointedly.

"Believe me Evans I know. Only, Moony and Padfoot assure me of the same thing. Padfoot even informs me that it's become quite a habit for you to and I quote, 'stare lovingly and longingly' at me."

"Merlin Potter I TOLD you I have not been staring at you! I've been trying to send you telepathic messages so that you'll leave me alone!" Lily bursts out, and throwing caution to the wind continues, "I am sick of you occupying my thoughts day in and day out! I bet you gain real pleasure, don't you, knowing that the unbreakable Lily Evans has finally fallen for you, you sadistic little twit! You and your crooked glasses and crooked tie and crooked smile and your CROOKED personality and I just can't get you out of my mind and I'm so, so tired of staring at you from afar and knowing you lost interest in me the moment I started returning it."

Lily throws her head in her hands and attempts to catch her breath after her spontaneous rant. Merlin that felt good! She thinks.

There is complete silence for a moment or two in their corner of the common room and Lily waits with baited breath for James' reaction. After waiting in vain for a while longer, she peeks from behind her hands to find James staring at her with awe and a grin so wide it's in danger of splitting his face in two.

She groans and straightens herself up, getting ready for the inevitable interrogation she knows is sure to come. He doesn't disappoint her.

"So, Evans." He wiggles his eyebrows and grins a little wider.

"Potter." She responds dully.

"Ah come now, Evans, don't go dull on me after you've so eloquently expressed yourself."

"Believe what you want, Potter, but I plead a momentary bout of insanity." Lily says, hoping she sounds composed even as her stomach erupts in a million butterflies.

"HA! Have fun trying to convince even the ickle first-years of this."

"Insomnia? Amnesia...?" She tries weakly.

"Wow! Your creativity knows no bounds." James counters deadpanned.

Lily tilts her head and looks at him properly this time. He's sitting in the chair opposite her, his hair messy and eyes bright behind his glasses and looking at her with wonder. However, if she looks closely, she can see the little vulnerability accompanying the hopeful glances and the careful composure he's built on his face. And suddenly, it clicks.

James Potter is hopeful that she, Lily Evans, truly meant every word she said but is fearful that this may be a part of a huge ploy, a joke, that Lily and his friends have concocted together to make fun of the young, stupid pain he was in fifth-year. The revelation shocks her so deeply that she's visibly started.

Tentatively Lily lifts a hand and cups James' cheek. His skin is marvelously soft and Lily absently strokes the stubble on his jaw with her thumb. This beautiful, reckless boy has proved over and over again in the past that his feelings for her are real and it's about time Lily returns the favour. After all, it is only fair.

She reaches up and places a chaste kiss on his cheek and murmurs softly so that James has to strain to hear,"You, James Potter, are akin to a wart that no matter how hard I try, I can't get rid of and I'm not even sure I want to in the first place."

And with that she grins cheekily at him and turns around to speed up to her dormitory. James dreamily touches the spot she kissed on his cheek and then as if he's received an electric shock, jumps up and calls out, "A lovable wart, I hope?"

Lily looks over her shoulder at his hopeful expression and responds, her voice shaking with mirth, "Sure, why not."

And for the rest of the night the inhabitants of Gryffindor Tower can be heard exchanging gossips and theories as to why matching smug grins were seen on both the Head Girl and Head Boy and why there was such a stark absence of snogging and other related actions that normally induce said smug grins.


A/N Thank you for reading. Please remember to review. Constructive criticism is always appreciated.