It was as though she had an alternate identity, like the superheroes in those old black and white moves, as she was one person on vacation, relaxing at her parents' house, and another the second she boarded the train. Dual personalities, both competing behind her carefully blank expression, knowing her parents loved her and that her classmates hated her. Part of her cursed the day that she had been accepted to the school, wishing for blissful ignorance, but a wild, dark side of her craved the adventure and mystery of her new life.

Staring out the window, the girl pushed a strand of her auburn hair from her face, her green eyes glinting in the pale light that shone in through the windows, staring at the sun reflecting off lakes that the train whizzed past, glancing at the rays of light illuminating the fields and woods that the her compartment thundered by. Voices were muttering outside of her compartment, and for a second the girl assumed they were talking about her, but the thought was pushed into the back of her mind as they walked past her without so much as a sideward glance.

After a while, a knock came at the glass door. It slid open to reveal a young man, staring with careful hazel eyes at the girl who was sitting alone, staring forlornly out the window, which was frosty with the approaching night.

"Hey, Evans," he called carefully, "We'll be arriving soon." The girl, Lily, blinked at his voice and turned. "You'd best be getting into your robes," continued the young man.

"Well look who's talking, Potter," responed Lily, glancing over the boy's muggle attire. "You'd best take your own advice, or McGonagall'll already have Gryffindor in the negatives."

"Didn't know you cared, Evans," responded the boy, with a superior grin while carefully running his hands through his already messy brown hair. At his primping, Lily made a disgusted noise and rolled her eyes.

"Thought about my offer over break?" he asked. Lily recalled his question, asking for a date, when he had been dangling a helpless kid by his ankle in the air. James saw Lily's tiger eyes narrow.

"I'd better go change," she responded icily, flashing her eyes angrily. Even James knew that he should leave, and he did, sliding the door back and walking back to his comparment, his swagger a little exaggerated and defeated.

✴ ✴ ✴

The compartment door opened to reveal three young men, one lounging, one twisting nervously to look at James as he opened the door, the other reading a ancient-looking book.

"How'd it go?" asked the one with the leather book gently. James sighed.

"I think 'horrible' right about sums it up," he muttered, flinging himself into an empty seat with a look of disgust on his handsome face.

"Told you," murmured the only who was staring indifferently out the window.

"Way to rub it in my face, Padfoot," responded James angrily.

"I don't understand why–" began the one who looked around nervously.

"It's alright, Peter," responded the young man, closing his book.

"Yeah," said the attractive one, "he was just having girl-trouble."

"I was not–" fumed James.

"We'd better get into our robes, you know, school policy," responded the tired-looking boy, stowing his leather-bound book in one of his trunks.

"Well, just because you're Dumbledore's favorite, the Prefect, it doesn't mean that you won't always be Remus to us, and forgive us for not taking your orders," responded James acidly, adding, "And since when did you care about school policy?"

Remus knew that there was no use in arguing with James; the situation with Lily had combined with James's ego to create a horrible mixture. His aching pride reflected in his hazel eyes and made all this friends feel as totured as he. It was exasperating, Remus knew, to watch your friend make the same mistake, over and over, but there really was no use reasoning with James. He didn't have ears for his friends' advice, and had eyes only for Lily.

✴ ✴ ✴

Hogwarts seemed to be the same every year. For some reason, Lily had imagined, for her seventh and final year, banners strewn across every doorway, and hundreds more candles replacing the torches, all glittering romantically in the stone hallways. But the castle remained the same old, gray stone, the same torches flickering sparse light into the hallways, yet in some way, it felt better than false graduer and meretricious ornaments; it was comforting, and felt more like home than Lily's true house where her summer alias lived.

Like every year, Lily walked to the Great Hall, and watched the first-years as they were sorted into their Houses. Every year they seemed to get smaller, their scared faces reflecting the Great Hall's night-sky ceiling, their eyes wide, absorbing all the mystery and splendor.

Over the years, Lily did acquire a few friends, people to talk to behind teachers' backs and in the halls. But the fact that she had lived those eleven years in the dark, as a muggle, that fact alone segregated her from the rest, a barrier that some could not ignore or surmount. She felt as though stuck in her life, without anywhere to go or anything to look forward to.

The future was scary to Lily, the unsure life clouding the horizon and hiding the sun. Where would she go after Hogwarts? To her, it seemed as if school would never end, the perpetual beginning and end of classes and lessons. She could not go back to her parents, to her old life. Lily could not pretend that she did not know of wizards and witches, of spells and charms. Trying to live in two worlds, Lily and locked herself out from both of them.

✴ ✴ ✴

James surveyed the Great Hall with steady hazel eyes. His vision skimmed over the Ravenclaw table to his side. A few girls smiled and giggled when he met their eyes, others straining to look over him as the youth James had called Padfoot, who was sitting casually on the bench of the Gryffindor table. James shook his head as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts, switching his gaze to the Slytherins who were sitting haughtily, exchanging gossip and harsh stares, to the Hufflepuffs who seemed to be talking animatedly about their summers, while their buddies guffawed noisily. A few young men at the Gryffindor table hailed James, grinning and chatting, as they sat down next to him. Some were sixth years, who seemed awed by James's popularity, others were fellow seventh years, having stayed loyally by James's side through pranks and jokes in all the years.

Finally James's eyes sought Lily's sharp green ones. Their glance locked for an instant, giving James's heart a sudden hopeful leap. But then the cynical slant of her lips and gleam in her eyes had returned, and she rolled her eyes slightly towards the gleaming sky-ceiling. It was strange, James realized, how he could find so much hope and light in a glance, to have it taken away by a mere expression to be replaced with a horrible sinking feeling.

As Dumbledore rose with another of his speeches, and James vaguely heard laughter and whispers rolling through the hall in their own times, his eyes searched for Lily's as he glanced sideways at her upturned face, staring at her eyes that were glinting in the candlelight as she watched, almost reverently, the Headmaster. James knew how idiotic he must have looked, glancing every moment at the one face in the Great Hall so stolidly ignoring him. But somehow, no matter how foolish it may seem, James hoped that at least once, he would get a glimpse of those green eyes staring at him, wishing his hazel eyes were staring back at them.

✴ ✴ ✴

Lily's green eyes flicked quickly to the Potters' boy, as he walked, or rather, sauntered dejectedly, from the Great Hall. He was staring at the ground, and something made Lily's heart soften. Remus, standing beside him, appeared to be comforting him, soothing the prankster's broken pride. But that thought just made Lily shake her head in scorn – that was it. Her dismissal and his sudden pursuance of her, the only reason for all those glances and flirtation was to comfort his wounded ego. Lily did not realize that she had rolled her eyes, but James did, as he left the Great Hall.

A few girls trotted over to Lily, pulling at her hands to try and capture her attention, but her eyes kept drifting to the forlorn figure of James Potter, now shuffling his feet a few yards ahead as the group of Gryffindors made their way to the Common Room. Curiosity, that's all she felt for him. It was simple, pure curiosity that made her eyes follow him as he made his way to the Common Room that evening.

✴ ✴ ✴

Morning brought the beginning of classes and the academic year. Lily left her Common room and went to her first class of the day – Potions. Lily was one of the few students left to NEWT level Potions, having received and "O", or "Outstanding" on her OWL examinations. She neared the room, dreading and, at the same time, expecting the adulation from the potions master, Professor Slughorn. He took Lily's gift in potions as a combination of his own personal victory as a teacher and her own innate talent. Lily never knew how to react to his pompous and exaggerated praise. She neared the Potions door, checking her parchment schedule to confirm the room and class.

Pushing open the door, Lily saw one thing she had never expected: James, talking to Marietta. Lily's friend glanced over James's shoulder with something trapped in her liquid-brown eyes, but once the door had swung shut, James had leaned forward and kissed Marietta, causing a gasp to escape Lily's astounded lips. At that, James turned to survey her with cold hazel eyes.

"I–Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt –. . ." Lily stuttered, then turned and ran out the door. When it closed behind her, she leaned against the stone wall a few feet from the doorway, sinking into a desperate sitting position, running a hand through her auburn hair as if to clear it of unwanted thoughts, as if trying to erase the picture of James – the boy who she had thought followed her, not Marietta, with longing – and her friend snogging in the Potions room! Something seemed wrong and alien.

Lily was confused; she had believed, truly taken as fact, that James Potter liked her. The mere possibility that Marietta had been the object of his affection, the simple idea was so strange and unreal that Lily was stuck with a sudden feeling of dread. She had scorned James for his ego and his conceit, Lily realized that she had become conceited, believing that a few words and glances from a boy was a sign of his love of her.

James's affection had been one things that Lily had accepted, if with disfavor, to be a fixture in her life. The glances in the hall, the flirting (for that's how she saw it) in the train and between classes. All had been arguments – passionate arguments.

Lily had not realized it, but the love had been there. She had just been to blinded by her judgement of James to realize.

But some part of her mind registered the same feeling she always felt towards James: strong dislike. This anger pushed all other thoughts and feelings from her mind, giving her strength to stand. Lily could not understand if she was angry at James for kissing Marietta, or angry at James for making her angry at Marietta, but Lily was furious with the Potter boy. Her green eyes were slitted, as she recalled all those times, with him torturing those innocent schoolmates. Nothing could make her ignore his almost vicious pleasure in controlling others.