Fourth
James Potter is fourteen, lanky, and on top of the world. Gryffindor is celebrating its victory over Slytherin, and James is the star. His captain claps him on the back, his teammates pump his hand, and his classmates congratulate him on a game well played. He glances around the common room, not knowing who he's looking for until he sees her fiery hair making its way up the girls' staircase. He calls out to her without thinking.
"Hey, Evans!" he says. "That was some game, yeah?"
Much of the activity in the common room stops as they wait for her response. She fixes a cool glance on him and says, "I wouldn't know, Potter. I wasn't there."
"Ah, what a shame! You missed the star of the show!" he responds with a radiant smile.
"Yes," she replies. "I hear Marlene did quite well."
A few people giggle at the exchange, and Sirius laughs outright as he places his hand on James's shoulder and says, "Tough luck, mate."
As he stares at Lily's retreating back, James wonders how she could befriend a slimy git like Snape and still think himself repulsive.
