Hey, thanks to those who reviewed the first chapter, you gave me the confidence to write another!
This is going to stay as a two shot though as I'm pretty busy right now and really want to write a Twilight story as well!
Lily wandered through the Hogwarts corridors searching for a place that was both quiet and comfy for her to return to her book. Somehow she found that her feet had carried her to the library, and surprised herself by realising this was exactly the type of place she was searching for.
Inside the library there were several groups of first and second years, not yet old enough to visit the local village, huddled together using the opportunity to finish one essay or another. Lily swept past them, glancing around for an empty table. As she reached the end of an isle containing books about astrology, she found an old armchair. She had seen James Potter sitting here once or twice, and was reluctant to choose this chair to sit in, knowing it would remind her of a certain person she wanted to refrain from thinking about. But as there were only a handful of stiff wooden chairs available, she had no other plausible option. She sat in the chair and opened her book.
After reading the first page of a new chapter several times, and failing to take any of it in, she sighed. Giving in to her thoughts, she stared at the book, paranoid the others in the library would know what, or who, she was thinking about.
Her imagination ran wild, dreaming about a handsome, intelligent, mature young man, who could hold a decent conversation about something other than pranks and gossip. They could talk about books, music, anything of mutual interest. Amazingly, they would share the same likes and dislikes, and would instantly see they would be perfect together.
Lily's train of thought came to a quick halt. Lily Evans, James Potter and the phrase 'perfect together' should never be used unless the words 'are not' play a significant role. She realised that she was not thinking of James Potter. She must have been using the unusual images of him to create in her head a perfect person for her. Not at all realistic. Not at all plausible. Shaking her head as though to remove the images, she gracefully pulled herself out of the chair and headed towards the Gryffindor common room. It wouldn't be quiet, but at least she wouldn't be able to think too much in the noise.
Meanwhile, James Potter remained under his tree, trying to focus on his book. A particular red-headed girl had stubbornly placed herself firmly in his thoughts, preventing him from taking in anything of what he was trying to read.
This happened to James a lot; the same girl always flitting through his mind. To James, Lily Evans was beautiful, smart and popular. He believed that if she just gave him a chance, they would make a great match. He loved to socialise, have a laugh and generally enjoy life as much as possible. He had noticed that Lily Evans also enjoyed partying and hanging out with friends. But he had also seen that she liked to be by herself, just to enjoy her own company. More often than not she read, but she also seemed to write. What she wrote he didn't know but he was intrigued.
For Christmas in fifth year, his father had given him a book of poems that his grandfather had put together before he died. They were both poems his grandfather liked, and some he had written himself. On seeing Lily reading by a tree at the lake, he had decided to take this book out and sit on the opposite side to her. This way she could see him reading and might realise they were more alike than he thought. However, when he had begun to read the book he became enveloped in the meaning and flow of the poems, and when he next looked up, she was gone and it was nearing dark.
Despite beginning by trying to impress Lily Evans, James found he enjoyed reading his grandfather's book, and found other books to read. He found different spots to sit and read them, where he could sit in peace and not be bothered by his friends. James was extremely popular after all, and found it difficult to take time for himself. Sometimes, he couldn't concentrate on his books, so let them fall to his side and let his thoughts process. Mostly, his thoughts turned to Lily Evans, and he soon realised he felt more for her than just a crush.
Sadly, James returned to his poetry. He was reading a poem his grandfather had written, about falling in love with his grandmother. James felt he could relate to this poem more than he had told anyone. He sighed and placed his grandfather's book on the grass beside him, and let his imagination take over and run wild in his own alternate universe where he and Lily would hang out with friends, before taking a quiet moment to themselves to share their favourite books, and he could read what he had seen her writing.