A/N: For the Never Challenge at the HPFC forum. My claim was, naturally, Lily/Scorpius…=D Also, here's to hoping my tenses don't suck.

Disclaimer: Whoopsies, I haven't done one of these in awhile. Anyway, anything you recognize is JKR's.

Blue

The sky seems unnaturally blue, like a little kid accidentally finger-painted over the usual grayness of England's surroundings. As though the kid is too young to get the message: life is gray, England is gray, the world is gray. And no one fights against that.

Of course, not many were looking at the sky in wonder. Not many were thinking of young children and their effects on one's affairs.

But then, not many people are Lillian Luna Potter. Not many people are as cynical, as bored, as collected, as Lillian Luna Potter. Not many people can handle being so cool all the time, never accepting defeat but never giving it what it wants: a reaction.

Not many people would try to be Lillian Luna Potter.

In all honesty, Lily is proud of her reputation for "The Girl who Takes No One's Shit". Or at least, that's how her eloquent best friend, Cassiopeia Longbottom, likes to express it.

"The sky's bothering me," Lily says, stepping in stride with Cass on the way to Herbology, one of the many classes they have together.

"Why?" Cass asks, looking up in confusion.

"Because it's too blue."

"You're whacked out," Cass says bluntly.

"Maybe," Lily agrees, "but it is. Gray is the natural color of our sky. Maybe in Australia or America or Asia or whatever, it's blue. But not here. Hello, God? Get the message?"

Cass laughs, but ceases quickly as she looks ahead. "Lil, shield yourself," she says in a low monotone.

Still, Lily isn't an idiot, and follows Cass's eyes.

"Oh," she says, her lips pursing. She turns her back and walks the other way, as Cass continues on her own path.

"See you!" the latter calls, but Lily only raises a hand backwardly.

Scorpius Malfoy.

Damn it, Lily thinks, her face expressionless. I knew the fucking blue would ruin the day.

She walks faster, each stride long and languid. She can be graceful, even when she's half-running. She fingers her wand carefully, prepared for any amount of attacks.

But nothing comes. No snide voices comment on her outfit today, practically begging for a rise out of her. No one laughs with contempt in their voice. No one annoys her halfway to hell and back.

Her shoulders slump as she breathes a deep sigh of relief and turns. She'll be late for class, but who the hell cares? She hurries back the opposite way. Malfoy is in none of her classes, thanks to Merlin, who put them in different years. Christ, she couldn't think of what she'd do if she were Rosie, her cousin, who has to endure him non-stop. They went out for about three months last year, but it had only led to this abuse. Malfoy had chosen to despise all Weasley or Potter offspring, and had executed such views effortlessly and deftly.

Now, Lily just tries to avoid him, and most of the time it fails.

I'll never fall for a fucking Malfoy, she thinks to herself. Rose wanted to commit social suicide. She's weird that way.

By now running, she just barely makes it in. Cass is waiting in the very back row. "How'd it go?" she hisses.

Lily shrugs. "It didn't."

But Cass has no more time to question her – class starts, and somehow, Lily manages to stay her normal self.

By the end of the weirdly blue day, Lily's done being cool and collected. And if Scorpius Malfoy wants to take a whack at her, she'll crack. She'll cry and scream and curse him until he's near death and begging for mercy.

But he doesn't do any of that. Today, he's laying off her. She runs one more time, but when he doesn't follow, she nearly forgets how to. She walks by him without making eye contact, without breaking her stride. She's relieved, and her guard is down, and maybe that's exactly where he wants her. But it doesn't fucking matter, because she's "The Girl who Takes No One's Shit," and she's so damn proud of it.

And after dinner, she tells Cass she'll catch up with her later, and stalks up to him. He's sitting under a tree doing his homework in the fading light, his face focused and strangely vulnerable, something she's not used to seeing out of him.

But she's not going to go easy on him. She's giving him what he wants. "Scorpius Malfoy," she says in a half-pleasant, half-warning tone. He looks up, startled, and locks eyes with her. She smirks. He sits, motionless.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the golden boy of Slytherin – the kid who's chosen not to be a bastard to me today. I know, it sounds like a miracle."

He doesn't move; his eyes only flicker closed, and then open again, fixed on her face. "So tell me, little son of a bitch, what's up with you today? Feeling – nice? How strange."

He opens his mouth, and then closes it.

"Not giving in? Taking my example and running with it? Sweet of you," she says, and her voice is so heartbreakingly sarcastic that his eyes flash, and then soften again. He doesn't defend himself.

"Alright, I suppose you're letting me take a whack at you, considering how much you've fucked with me. Now that is just a noble, noble thing." She rolls her eyes and sits next to him – well, something that could be counted as "next to" but is at least a foot away anyway.

"Where to start? Well, sunshine, let's see. You like to rat on my appearance. A lot. Every time you see me, in fact. Also, you're a huge fan of laughing at me for anything – oh, and everything – I do. You're a complete and total bastard. You broke my cousin's heart. For some random reason, you hate me, while at first, I didn't hate you in the least. You're conceited and pigheaded. You prefer snide comments to just talking about it. You spread ridiculous rumors about me and the rest of my family. And lastly, but certainly not the least of your many worries, you chicken out."

He gapes at her. He wasn't expecting that, she thinks, and smirks.

"Sorry, I had to get that off my chest." She quickly pats the top of his head and jumps up. "Nice talking to you, bastard!" she adds in a fake-bright tone, and hurries off.

Ah, revenge is sweet.

"Lily!"

Well, maybe not.

She turns quickly and shoots him a withering look. "What the fuck do you want? I thought we were done here. Tomorrow you'll be you again, and I'll be me. Okay? Okay. Sounds good." She turns to go again, but he's stood and catches her arm in his grip.

"Lily." His voice is hard, his eyes smoldering. Something flutters in her chest area, but she ignores it as she stares at him defiantly.

"What?" she asks, exasperated, for once not the cool one.

"I'm sorry," he says, and then he takes his books and walks towards the castle, his shoulders bent forward and his head facing the ground.

"Hey, Malfoy?" she calls to him. He stops, but doesn't turn. "Why's the sky so blue?"