First year brought her intense nerves, him a new surge of life. She wore simple single-strap shoes and a neat set of Hogwarts uniform. He was the opposite, his shirt untucked and rumpled from the off, no matter how laboriously the house elves back home ironed it. He exuded wealth and pampering, of well-made clothes and noble blood, whilst she gave off waves of modesty and sweetness, standing beside the greasy-haired best friend who narrowed his eyes as soon as they locked onto the boisterous youth thundering past them into a train compartment.
Unfortunately for the two eleven-year-olds from Cokeworth, passing the boys' compartment was necessary to progress further down the train. She had tried to calm the instant animosity, steer herself and her friend away from the snappy phrases being exchanged, until she finally dragged the hook-nosed boy away after he insulted his adversary's intelligence over Hogwarts Houses.
A scolding and a roll of the eyes was all it took to receive an apology, and then the slate was wiped clean, and she chattered on about the scenery and her excitement whilst he patiently endured her questions and ramblings, a rare glow of warmth lighting his dark eyes. Nobody joined them. Most people took one look at his ill-fitting robes and tattered school bag, giggled to themselves and scurried away, hurting her heart every time. He didn't care. And neither did she, really. Besides, he'd turned down her offer of paying for new robes. Only once did she leave him, melding two trips into one; first she went to get changed into her new, unfamiliar robes, feeling the smooth curtains of fabric and wondering if she had it on right. Oh well. She flipped her long, red hair out of the way of her face and left the train loo, another girl slipping past almost immediately. The second highlight of the trip was running into the food trolley lady, where she bought an abundance of Pumpkin Pasties and Chocolate Frogs, mostly for the malnourished boy sitting alone in their compartment, who claimed he didn't need to eat anything because of the huge feast that would welcome them to the castle. Still, it warmed her heart to see him eating substantial food, even though he'd scowled at first when she'd returned to the compartment, arms laden with food, knowing that it would have cost a fair amount.
Friendships didn't cost money to Lily.
The black-haired, wealthy little prince they'd met earlier had had a whale of a time on the journey to Hogwarts. His new friend, another Pureblood with dark, silky hair and humorous grey eyes, was a perfect match for him; they experimented with spells they'd already been extensively used to at home, Charming people's hair obnoxious shades of purple and sending Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans shooting towards innocent students' skulls, giggling all the while and stowing away their wands with an air of normality whenever they were caught out.
Throughout the year, she shone and he dazzled, both remarkable and blasting their competition out of the water, but in different ways. He was cocky and mischievous, whilst she was straight-laced and disapproving. She didn't much care for the stupid pranks he and his friends pulled, deeming it a waste of time and extraordinary magical potential. She wasn't exposed to his behaviour much, though - the aforementioned best friend made sure that she kept a wide berth of the notorious foursome, always weaving new paths through the castle and creating new topics of conversation whenever her mind wandered onto them. He was paranoid, and she was oblivious.
Classes between the redhead and the bespectacled boy were like an unofficial competition; it was widely known that they were the best magical folk in their year, and without ever having to mention it or state it officially, they started trying to best each other. It soon emerged that he was more gifted in Transfiguration, whilst she excelled more in Charms, the other classes being an even mix. She would never let go of the fact that she'd levitated her feather a full minute and a half before he had.