A/N: Hello again! It's good to see you back. My AP went quite well, and I'm convinced it was you all that brought me the good luck. I hope all of you did well on yours as well. I've been experiencing serious writer's block these couple of weeks, to be honest with you. So I'm only beginning Chapter 13, when I should be working on Chapter 14 already. It's quite sad. But it's all right, because I have Chapter 10 for you! This chapter is going to pretty fluffy, I think. Hopefully you like it. See you at the bottom!

RR:

thefirstchapter: Ah, this is such a delightful compliment! Thank you so much. I really, really appreciate it. I hope you found the rest of the fanfiction bearable as well.

PenonPaperFingersonKeys (a.k.a. mrsjamespotter): Your reviews (plural!) were just wonderful, as both you and your tumblr are. I find James Potter amazingly attractive and dreamy as well, if I may say so myself. I'm also so glad you appreciate that Lily and James seem a bit different than in other fanfictions—I was trying for that effect, but I'm not very sure whether it was successful or not…. As for food, I have to say that it is my life. Literally. Literally literally, too…. I hope you keep reading!

Doctor Brittana Banana Who: Well, I'm glad you liked it! With respect to her friends, I just adore Marlene and Alice and Dorcas, truly. The truth is that I don't really work well with OCs—I have too many issues naming them, which is something you will soon realize, unfortunately. We don't know for sure that the girls are Lily's original friends, but I'd certainly like to think so, and I'm happy you agree!

shortiegirl: Thank you for the lovely compliment! But I just can't get enough of you guys, you know? I want more! :]

Kaiyan: That's always one of the best things, in my humble opinion, that a Lily/ James fanfiction author can be told—it's such an honor to inspire someone to love L/J more! Thank you for your review, and I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expectations. Be sure to let me know, please!

bookworm527: Thank you very much! Haha, really? Your brother does that too? Actually, I must confess that Lily's obsession stems from my own—I hate it when my food is all mixed up. I think it tastes weird. Wow, that's quite a bit of standardized testing! I certainly hope you and all the people you mentioned did well on them.

mugglenomore: Thank you so much! I'm positively overjoyed that you like James—I quite like him myself. Thanks again for your encouragement. I'll make sure to keep posting as long as you guys want to read what I write!

Thanks, as always, to all those lovely people who have favorited this story and/ or added it to their alert list. Your support means the world to me.

Chapter 10: Charm and Charms

I sit alone in the Heads' Common Room, scratching the side of my nose with my quill and staring out the beautifully large and clear windows at the gorgeous blue sky outside, instead of working on the Transfiguration essay in front of me as I should be. I so do not want to be inside right now, doing homework and waiting to embarrass myself in front of James Potter, my new so-called "friend". I'd much rather be outside, lying on the cool, dark green grass and watching the clouds. I can practically smell the fresh fragrance of grass, mingled with the crisp scent of late September air. Maybe I'll go outside later, after I finish my homew—

"Hey, Lils, sorry that I'm late. First Quidditch practice of the year, you know," James's voice interrupts my reverie as he plops down into the chair across from me in our Heads Dorm, breathless, sounding suspiciously as if he ran all the way from the Quidditch pitch. He shrugs his book bag off his shoulder and tosses it carelessly onto the carpeted floor. A bottle of ink and a few quills roll out, and, with a groan, he bends over while still sitting in his chair to pick them up.

No, Lily, you were not just admiring his flexibility.

"Hey, don't worry about it," I greet him, tucking my Transfiguration essay inside my textbook with a little sigh. I make a mental note to ask James to clarify a question about the page I was reading. Bloody wandwork. Far too confusing. "So, our first official Heads meeting, huh?"

"Yeah," he answers, "I jotted down a few notes about what to talk about today. Do you want to see?"

Oh, Merlin. If James Potter is becoming more organized than me, I really need to step it up.

I laugh nervously. "Sure, but I didn't write any notes or do any brainstorming, just so you know."

"You don't need to," he reassures me cheerfully, rummaging in his bag and pulling out a carefully folded sheet of parchment. "See, I just wrote a few things down whenever I thought of them. It's nothing formal. I just thought I'd forget if I didn't write them down."

"Oh, well, still," I say, determined to whip myself into a better Head Girl, "I should have done the same. I didn't think of doing this, but this is a good idea. I forget things easily, too."

He smiles happily. "I'm just glad you don't think it's stupid."

"Of course it's not," I tell him, pulling the parchment across the desk closer to me. "Let's see… First, you wanted to talk about Hogsmeade weekends, right?"

"Yep," he says, twirling his quill, "We still have to plan all the dates. I was thinking that we should have one every month or so, which is a bit more frequent than they were last year, but I sort of like the idea of having a weekend every month that people can leave the school and do something else to get their minds off things. I think it'd lower our school stress level."

"I have to agree, actually," I admit. "I mean, people don't have to go if they don't want to, so I don't see the harm in having a few more. Dumbledore planned the first one for this Saturday, as a welcome-back sort of treat. Should we just make them all the second week of every month, and then reschedule some of them to fit with holidays, like Valentine's Day?"

"That's good for me," James says, grinning. "Shall we move on to the Halloween feast, my lady?"

I smile back. "Yes. I do have an idea for that. I was thinking that we should have a party, instead of a sit-down feast. We could have some music and decorations and stuff. It doesn't have to be anything fancy, but I thought something like that would be a nice change for everyone."

"I like the sound of that," he replies, writing it down on his parchment.

The strange thing is that when James compliments or agrees with my ideas, somehow, it feels more sincere than when other people do. I'll have to ponder that later.

"What music were you thinking of?" he asks abruptly, looking up at me with his quill poised over his paper.

"I was thinking of getting Hera and the Hags," I answer. "I think their slow music would be appropriate for this party; there's nothing scandalous in their lyrics or anything."

"Actually," says James, running a hand subconsciously through his hair. You know, it's sort of cute in an annoying way when he does that, at least when he's not being all a stuck-up, arrogant show-off. Not that he's cute. He'll always be a prat. "I was thinking that faster music might be better, I mean, keeping people's spirits high and all."

Blood immediately rushes to my cheeks.

See? Point proven. He's such a prat. And the nerve of him, too! No one disagrees with the Lily Evans.

Only joking.

But not really.

"Well," I counter loftily, trying to seem as if his opinion is of no worth to me whatsoever, "I would like to respectfully defend my position. We agreed that this would be a dinner party, right? We're going to have tables of food along the walls of the Great Hall, and we'll have some band up front. People are going to be carrying around food on plates, and they'll be socializing or dancing in the middle of the Hall. Fast music gets people too excited, and honestly, just imagine Sirius Black prancing around to fast music while simultaneously carrying two plates of food, one of which his face will be buried in. He could seriously injure innocent bystanders. Not a pretty picture. It's not a dance party, James. It's a dinner party, and dinner comes first."

He considers this seriously for a minute. "I still think fast songs are more fun, but you have a point too, especially with regards to the Sirius point. We can go with slow songs if that's what you would like."

To be honest, I don't really like slow songs that much. I only insisted because I wanted to either force James to agree with me or force him to give me a reason to be angry with him.

Me? Manipulative? Never.

But he doesn't grant me either of the above. Damn you, James Potter, damn you.

"I'll add a few fast songs in," I conclude, feeling guilty for starting an argument and being so mean to him. He doesn't really deserve it. "For you."

He chuckles. "Thanks, princess."

We spend the rest of our time discussing the Winter Ball, which we both think should be a formal occasion. We make a few flyers for the Ball and decide to put them up together in every tower tomorrow night.

I never thought I could be so productive.

After we finish posting all the Hogsmeade schedules and the flyers for the Winter Ball, I walk with James down the long spiral staircase from Hufflepuff Tower. He seems terribly awkward today, not at all like his normal self. He keeps glancing at me secretly, as if he knows something and is too terrified to tell me.

I'm not that intimidating, am I?

Finally, I can't stand it. "What's the matter?" I demand.

He looks taken aback, his eyebrows lifted above his glasses and disappearing behind his hair. "Nothing," he says. "Why?"

"I— You— Never mind," I mutter. "Is something going on that I should know about? You look like you're hiding something from me. Just tell me already."

"Oh," he says, lowering his gaze to stare fixedly at the ground, his cheeks flushing with color, "no. I'm not hiding anything from you. Don't worry. I would never do that to you, Lily, if it would hurt you. I thought you knew that."

"Well, then, what is it?" I ask, determined to weasel this out of him. We stop in front of our portrait hole, an oil painting of a little girl who is leaning her head on her arms, which are crossed and resting on the bottom part of her picture frame. "Hi, Aurelia."

"Hi, guys. Password?" Aurelia asks sleepily, lifting her head a bit to acknowledge us.

"Hogwarts's pudding," I say. "How are you? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay. A bit tired, though. If you guys are going to bed and no one else is coming tonight, I think I'll rest for a while," Aurelia declares with a yawn. She stretches her petite arms above her golden hair—oh, how envious I am of that hair!—and rubs her eyes.

"Go to sleep, Aurelia, dear," I tell her.

"Yeah," adds James, "you've been working so hard for us, letting people in and all. We're going to go to bed, and you should, too."

She smiles sweetly, like the little angel she is. "Okay. Thanks, Lily and James. Good night." She straightens up and swings forward, and we climb through the portrait hole.

I round on James as soon as we enter the Common Room. "What were you going to tell me?"

He looks flustered, prodding the carpet with his toes. "I wasn't going to tell you anything," he mumbles. "Not technically, anyway."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, bewildered. One of us must be going insane: either I'm seeing things, or he's acting especially strange. I've never seen him like this before. "I'm here for you. Come on. Talk to me, James. I want to know."

"I—I…" he stammers playing with the sleeve of his robes. His cheeks turn pink again. "."

"What?"

He takes a deep breath. "I was going to ask you if you… if needed help with Transfiguration. We could have a review day or something. Quidditch practices don't start until next week, so I could stay with you on Sunday afternoon to work on some Transfiguration." He looks up at me worriedly. "If you want, that is. If you feel like it would help."

James Potter, Mr. Calm-and-collected, finding it difficult to ask me that? He must think I'm some species of female dragon. This whole situation is just too funny. I burst out laughing.

Probably not the most sensitive move of my life.

"Don't laugh," James says, even redder now. "You could just say no, you kn—oh, never mind. I'm going to bed." He turns and walks toward the staircase near his room.

"No," I wheeze, running after him. "No." I reach out and touch his forearm lightly. He spins around, surprised. "I'd like to. I was going to ask you to help me with the wandwork for the spells we're learning anyway."

"Oh," he says, sounding utterly confused by the intricacies of female behavior, "then what were you laughing for?"

"I—not at you. I wasn't laughing at you."

His ears turn pink with either embarrassment, pleasure, or some mix of both. "Oh," he says again, beaming, "good. I thought you were, for a second, and I'm just glad that you're not, and I have no idea what I'm trying to say right now."

I laugh. "Next time, don't be afraid to ask. It's nice of you to offer me that." I yawn, and then I remember it's not ladylike to yawn in public, so I reach up to cover my mouth. "I'm really tired, and I want to go to bed. Good night, James."

"Good night, Lily."

"HE ASKED YOU TO SPEND AN AFTERNOON WITH HIM?" screams Marlene, jumping up from the floor and strewing homework all over my room. Thanks a lot, Mermie. My room was messy enough already, with pillows thrown everywhere haphazardly and tubes of makeup cluttering my vanity dresser.

I leap up and clamp my hand over her mouth, and I glance nervously out the window to where James Potter is flying around above the Quidditch pitch on his broomstick. I take a moment to secretly admire how natural he looks when he's flying.

I haven't even told them about the time I cried on James during patrol. If this is already a big deal, telling them about that... Oh, by the way, girls, I forgot to mention that I yelled at James Potter during patrol, and then I cried on his shirt. And then we had a nice little venting session where I told him all my feelings that I've never even told you guys. And after that, he gave me a tissue. Yeah, the girls will take that really well.

"Shh, Marlene," I plead, dragging her back down. "Really, it's not a big deal. Stop freaking out."

"Yeah, Mermie," Dorcas says, laughing, "Lily's never going to tell us how it happened unless you shut up, right, Lils?"

Way to throw me under the bus, Dorc.

"Right," I promise desperately, keeping Marlene's head under my arm with my hand firmly over her mouth and praying that it takes Marlene a while before she figures out that she could easily force me to let go just by biting my hand, "but you have to swear to remain quiet the entire time, okay?"

She nods, and I let go.

She massages her neck gingerly, pouting. "Ow, Lily," she says accusingly. "That hurt."

"I think it was supposed to, Marlene," Alice informs her kindly. "Spill, Lily."

I glare at the three nosy busybodies. "Ugh, fine. I told you it wasn't a big deal, but since you're all so fascinated by my life, I can tell you that nothing happened. James just offered to help me with Transfiguration on Sunday; that's all."

"But that's so romantic," sighs Marlene.

I look at my best friend disgustedly. "How is that even remotely romantic? Were you even listening? He asked if I wanted help with Transfiguration. It's not a date or anything. Besides, if you think it's so romantic, you can go instead. I'll find another tutor."

Marlene looks at me as if I'm the unreasonable one. "Lily," she says, "don't be silly. Of course I can't go. You two belong together."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," mutters Dorcas under her breath. Good thing I spared some of my look of disgust for her, too.

Merlin. My friends have issues.

"Well, sorry to burst all your bubbles and whatnot, but it happens that James Potter isn't in love with me anymore," I tell them.

"Lily," Alice says, "actually, he is."

"Yeah," adds Dorcas, "it's not like you have evidence."

I smile wickedly. I was so prepared for this one. "Oh, yes, Dorcas, I do," I cackle triumphantly. "My evidence is that he hasn't asked me out for ninety-six days." I smile, satisfied in proving them all wrong.

"Oh my God, Lily, I didn't know that you kept track of how long he goes without asking you out! That's so cute. You totally have a crush on him," Marlene says matter-of-factly, clasping her hands together in apparent rapture.

I screw my eyes shut in frustration and rage, and I bury my face momentarily deep into the soft, comforting, peaceful coolness of my pillow. "Aaaaaaaargh. You guys are completely missing the point. The point was that we don't like each other, okay? And I'd like to not spend our entire seventh year discussing James Potter, if you please. I still have a Potions essay to write, you know, and you all have work to do, too."

I pick up my quill and unscrew my bottle of ink again, ready to continue writing. I glance up, and I find the three of them exchanging a silent conversation that probably goes something like this:

Ohmigod, Lily is so hormonal right now.

Yeah, I know. It's probably her time of month.

(Thanks, guys…)

She definitely has a crush on him, though.

Yeah, totally. And he's completely in love with her.

Obviously.

(Alice, you're one to talk; you're totally in love with Frank Longbottom and denying it, too.)

Okay, now she's watching us, so we should probably stop communicating. Awkward.

Good idea.

Okay.

Most people would probably find something like this mildly insulting, but I find it amusing. We've known each other for so long that I know that they'd say the same exact things to my face. To me, there's a difference between talking behind my back and not wanting to annoy me further by saying things out loud.

I just roll my eyes and flop back onto my belly, smiling a little to myself.

I've always thought that the way Professor Flitwick squeaks when he gets excited is adorable.

He's definitely excited today. If the pitch of his voice could get any higher, I'd have to bewitch bats to translate for me. "My dear children," he squeaks while climbing onto his usual stack of books, "quiet down, please. We have a busy day ahead."

Our class immediately quiets down. We Gryffindors love Flitwick. There has never been a boring Charms class with him teaching. The Ravenclaws, who are sitting on the other side of the room, love him just as much; he is their Head of House, after all.

"Ah, lovely morning to practice some of our newest spells," Flitwick proclaims, "isn't it? All right, you will need to pair up with a partner to practice them on a beetle that I will place on your desk. Sirius Black with Marlene McKinnon, Remus Lupin with Dorcas Meadowes..."

I catch Remus passing a hand over his eyes, probably relieved at not having to work with Peter again. Lily Evans sees all.

"… James Potter with Lily Evans, Adam Turpin with Priyanka Patil…"

I turn around in my seat, and my eyes meet James's. He grins at me happily and stands up, grabbing his book bag. He saunters over to me, and when he reaches my desk, his voice half joking, he says, "So sorry, Lily, that you ended up with such an incompetent partner."

I can't help but smile. "I'm sorry that I ended up with such an incompetent partner for the whole year."

He slides into the chair next to me. "Hey," he protests, but his eyes are dancing behind his glasses.

He's sitting awfully close to me, and I can feel his warmth radiating from his body. He watches me, his lips curved into a teasing smile. Again, I notice his eyes, and I'm temporarily hypnotized by the shimmery gold and deep blue flecks engulfed in a sea of hazel. My eyes gradually drift down to the soft little dimple on his left cheek, and suddenly I have a sudden urge to lean in and kiss it, threading my hands into that head of delightfully silky black hair.

Oh my God, Lily. You did not just think that.

Blergh. Even the thought of that is contaminating. I'm going to have to sanitize my mouth later. It wouldn't hurt to clean out my brain, too.

I'm just feeling a little bit odd today, that's all, right? I probably ate something weird at breakfast. I did think that oatmeal looked a bit suspicious.

I tear my eyes away from James's, and he visibly flinches, just as Flitwick levitates a beetle onto our desk. "There you go, Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans. Practice away, my dears."

I manage to smile feebly at Flitwick. "Thank you, Professor."

"You are quite welcome, Ms. Evans," he answers as he beams at me.

When I turn back to James, he's still watching me. "Forever everyone's favorite," he says with another nonchalant grin, but, strangely, his voice sounds slightly wistful and a bit strained.

I have no idea what that was supposed to mean or how to respond, so I use my favorite (and most commonly used) line. "Uh, okay…?" And then I realize that sounded really stupid, as it always does (not that that prevents me from using it), so I change the topic. "Ready?" I ask.

I'm such an awkward child.

"Yeah," he replies, glancing at the beetle. "What spell are we supposed to be doing?"

"Oh, I don't really know," I confess, "but I would assume they're the ones written on the blackboard." I gesture vaguely toward the front of the room. "First, we start off easy with Wingardium leviosa. You try first, James."

"Oh, bugger," he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I never was much good at that." He rolls up the sleeves of his robes and points his wand at the beetle. "Wingardium leviosa."

The beetle rises a few inches off and then plops decidedly back onto the desk. It rolls onto its back and gives James what I interpret as a withering glare. It's a good thing beetles can't do magic; otherwise, James would probably be turned into green slime mold by now. "Sorry," James groans. "I told you I wasn't good with that spell."

I laugh. "That's why we're working on it. Here, you want to move your wand like this." I swish my wand, demonstrating for him.

He copies my movement, realizing his issue quickly. He's a fast learner; no wonder all the teachers think he's so talented. I watch him quietly as he practices the wand movement gracefully, his exposed forearm muscles flexing and relaxing in a soothing rhythm.

You know, if muscles could be sexy, James Potter's forearm muscles would be. Quidditch does have some benefits, apparently.

The same does not go for the rest of his body, okay?

He looks up, and my eyes jerk back up to his face. I feel heat flood my cheeks, and he smirks. Thankfully, though, this time, he knows enough to keep his trap shut, which is not something James Potter has ever been known for before.

I clear my throat. "So, what do you want to do now?"

"Hold on," he says, and he promptly levitates the beetle into the air, making it zoom across the room and hit Sirius on the cheek, just as Sirius leans toward Marlene to whisper something in her ear. (Can I just reinforce my point that they are totally and obviously in love?) Marlene giggles hysterically as Sirius leaps away from her and slaps his own cheek in an attempt to get the beetle off. In fact, his hand connects with his cheek with such force that it leaves a pink mark.

"Quick," murmurs James urgently, "turn around!"

We pretend to be engaged in our work when James yelps. "Ow!" He bends over, rubbing the back of his neck, and picks up a sharp little ball of crinkled parchment from the ground, where it presumably fell after hitting James. He unfolds it and reads: "I'll get you back for that, you lovebirds." In the middle, we find our very disgruntled beetle.

James turns around and winks roguishly at Sirius.

They are simply impossible.

After a few more beetle battles between the two of them, James says tentatively, "Lily?"

"Hmm?" I ask absentmindedly, making use of the time and James's distraction to mentally go over the subtle differences in wand movement for Hovering Charms and Summoning Charms.

"It's nothing serious or anything like that, but I was going to tell you—I have Quidditch practice tonight. Normally, we'd finish before it's time for patrol, but you know, with the big game against Ravenclaw next Saturday and all, we're going to be practicing a bit more. Is it okay if I'm fifteen minutes late for patrol? I promise it won't happen often. Is that all right with you?" He sounds endearingly uneasy, unsure of how I will react.

Silly boy. I don't bite. (Often.)

"Of course it's all right. I want Gryffindor to win over Ravenclaw just as much as you do. Besides, I really don't think it's going to be a huge problem if we're a few minutes late for patrol. I'll wait for you; I have to do some homework, too," I tell him.

I watch his dimple deepen as he smiles. "Okay, thanks, Lils."

A/N: So, how'd that go, guys? How was the fluff? Did you like it? Please do a huge favor to me and leave a review. I love reading your feedback. Keep in mind that next chapter—Chapter 11—is going to be the big chapter! Are you as excited as I am?

These chapters just keep getting longer! I think Chapter 11, without Author's Notes and Reader Responses, is already around 4500 words. So far, Chapter 12, which I just finished, is ever longer, over 5100 words! That's pretty long for an amateur writer like me, you know!

Well, I'll see you (hopefully) when you review, and again in THREE weeks for Chapter 11. I like to update on Fridays, and I have a national math competition to attend, so I sadly cannot update on June 3rd.

Thank you all!