I am dedicating this to JilyEvotter19 for three reasons: To apologize for not being there as much as I should have, to show her that I care about her, and to let her know what to do in case she got caught by a certain H named person in the middle of the night. ;D

And as usual, Reviews are warmly welcome.

ESSAYS CAN WAIT

The marble stairs felt unwelcoming and cold as she cautiously tread on them, clutching onto her quills, parchments, books, and that precious Quantomius Qolour-Changing Quill-Ink. Stepping forth into the Gryffindor common room, she carefully glanced around, her brain calculating the amount of safety that floated in the air that night.

Eighty-five per cent. Good.

She sat onto the fluffiest, most stuffed love-seat next to the fire, splaying her stuff out around her; she grabbed a long roll of parchment and a heavy book - Transformation: A guide for NEWTs. Inking her quill to the fullest, she bent down onto her parchment, neatly writing down her name.

"Oh, come on now ..."

She rolled her eyes, glaring at the rainbow-colored Lily Evans that glittered on top of her essay-to-be.

"Not the rainbow-glittery one tonight ... this is for McGonagall, for God's sake!"

She pulled out her wand and began to tap her name rather harshly, her eyes transfixed onto the ink's instructions for help. And just as she was going to put the bottle down, her eyes landed onto a small, rather unpleasant script:

Bonus! Once a color is applied, it will not be changed!

"Stupid Quantomius with his stupid grammar and stupider ink ..."

"Writing me a love letter, Evans?"

Lily jumped, turning to face the only one who'd dare interrupt her when it was almost midnight.

"Excuse me?" She glared at the devilishly smirking James Potter, hastily covering the parchment with her hands.

"Because you will end up doing so, trust me."

"You wish, Potter."

"I know, Evans, for a fact."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever ..."

James sat down next to her, grinning as he casually crossed his legs and leaned back.

"So, what are you doing then, Lils?"

"Trying to write McGonagall's essay ... it's due tomorrow, you know ..."

James seemed to be surprised. "You mean to say you haven't done it till now? Midnight?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her. Lily snorted.

"I - I had other things on my mind ... I couldn't get myself to do it."

"What things, young lady?" James wriggled his eyebrows again. "If I am not mistaken, you look a bit love-struck."

"Well -" Lily began immediately, but cut herself off as soon as his words sunk in. "What? Of course I'm not love-struck, what do you mean?"

"I mean -" James gave her a knowing look, leaning a bit more forward to examine her features " - look at you. You look ... love- struck! Your hair is falling around you and you've got the hint of a blush on your cheeks - very pretty, mind - and your eyes are blinking faster than a fly batting its wings! And you're biting your lip." He added the last sentence smugly, crossing his arms and wearing the kind of expression he wore after checkmating Remus in Wizard's Chess.

"Maybe." Lily shrugged. "But I am not love-struck. I'm sure of it."

"So you admit it, then?"

"Admit what?" Lily mumbled, sounding quite annoyed as her neat handwriting now grew into a fast, absentminded scribble.

"That you're in love!" James boomed and threw his arms open.

"Quiet down, James!" Lily rushed forward, leaning into his chest as she anxiously pressed her hands on his mouth. "You'll wake up the whole castle!"

And then she sensed the soft fabric of his jumper under her bare elbows. Gasping, her hands flew back, her face looking flushed and mortified, but James was quicker. Before she knew, he was wrapping his arms around her waist and shoulders and relaxing her tensed muscles against his chest, and she just didn't know what to do, because Merlin's beard, he felt so warm and soft and smelt of soap and brooms and grass, and she was positively freezing with the sleeveless old dress she wore and the snow that fell down from the endlessly dark night sky.

"The thing is," James spoke, his voice sounding rather low and husky, "I am in love, too; have been, if you want the truth."

"Oh - really?" came the girl's slightly high-pitched voice. "With - with whom?"

"Oh, Lily ..." he sighed, pulling her closer.

Only seven inches. Seven inches ONLY.

"You know that I love you."

And his lips landed on hers, fluttering her eyes shut and drowning her in a very, very pleasant numbness. He was moving his hands to her hair and her face and Lily had absolutely no control over her throat and the sigh that escaped it ... and he softly, yet too early, pulled away. Lily could protest.

"Lily," James breathed, his nose touching hers as he distanced his face from her crimson cheeks.

"Hmm ...?"

"Your essay ..."

"My e- oh, right ..." Pausing, her lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Do you think you can borrow Remus's for me? I mean, I could go ahead and do it myself but ..."

"Are you the same Lily I kissed right now? Because you don't really sound like -"

"I am, and actually, you haven't gotten to know the real me yet."

"Right," James Potter smirked, reaching to pull her back to himself. "Essays can wait."