Lily Evans was studying in the library and James Potter was watching her.
She was writing her charms essay, an extra quill tucked behind her ear. He liked that her hasty ponytail was unintentionally off-center and he noticed how she fingered the time-worn reference books with care, rubbing the dust out of the creases in the page. She dropped her quill onto the parchment and stretched her arms out in front of her, eyes never leaving her workas she formulated sentences under her breath. When she picked her quill back up, he saw that her fingers were stained with ink.
He was very nervous.
She looked up from her essay with a swift tilt of her head as she checked the great clock hanging over the south window. After she deciphered the 24 ancient numerical runes and dozen ticking arms to mean approximately 5:26, a small smile danced its way into her expression as she looked around expectantly.
James wasn't spying. He had to remind this to himself even as an oddly familiar feeling crept up inside. Things were different now, but it was a little harder to get used to than he'd thought.
He glanced back at her and saw her slip off her hair-tie and shake out the red ponytail, running her fingers through it a few times; unconscious grooming that took no thought. And it awed him.
James could tell she was growing impatient. She looked down at the parchment in front of her with blank eyes and shifted in her seat, glancing up at the time every few seconds. Her hands fidgeted with the spare quill that had come out of her hair, separating the plume, ruining it. Two minutes later, she sighed. A very tiny noise that wouldn't be heard unless someone was listening very closely.
The light in the library had subtly changed and now the beginning of a blazing sunset was visible through the windows, casting a glow on the stones of the building. James watched silently as it set her hair on fire.
Soon the torches in the hallways and each of the common rooms would burst into life, the moment the sun dips past the horizon. Nothing in the world could interrupt this daily harboring ritual, and nothing had for centuries.
A slowly clanging bell could be heard throughout the school, signaling five minutes before supper. Through the library window, distant silhouettes above the quidditch pitch descended from a fly in the sky. There was surge of chatter and laughter as students made their way to the great hall in groups. Lily looked out the window with a slight air of suspicion.
Before the last chime of the bell softly died away, James found himself standing behind where she sat. He lightly touched her left shoulder. Lily didn't immediately turn around, but he thought he could hear her eyes flutter close.
"What are you doing here Potter?" she asked when she finally turned around and saw that it was him.
"Just passing through," he grinned.
"Really?" she raised one eyebrow, "You aren't here because you're - oh, I don't know - supposed to be meeting someone?"
"Not that I'm aware of," he shrugged innocently.
"Oh Potter, you prat," she said. But she was smiling
He laughed out loud and pulled Lily out of her seat. Lifting her off the ground, he spun her around once, making her squeal before pulling her securely into his arms.
"Sorry Lily. Quiddtich ran long," he explained to the top of her head, "I'm not late am I?"
Lily peeked over his arm at the wall clock. 5:31. She sighed with contentment.
"I was waiting for you."
A/N: Don't ask me where this came from... It's short, but I guess I indulged my writerly inclination of over-describing things. ;) Probably bored most people away! Well, if you made it all the way down here, thanks for reading and let me know what you think.