Chapter One
The One Boy who Drove her Crazy
Lily Evans was thoroughly frustrated. She felt as though someone had randomly begun to pound as hard as they could upon the top of her head with a very large, very painful blunt object.
It was not a good feeling. No, not at all.
She was so sick of homework. Utterly, completely, one-hundred percent sick of it. She had spent most of the day writing troublesome essays, her head complaining bitterly throughout it all. Honestly, at the moment she didn't care whether she flunked out of school and was forced to live with her parents for the rest of her miserable, pathetic life.
Well, no, she did care. A whole lot, actually. She figured that it would be a rather sorry situation for the Head Girl to flunk out of Hogwarts and run home with her tail (figuratively speaking, of course) between her legs.
All she needed was a break, she had decided. Without a word of explanation, she stormed up to her dormitory, snatched her cloak and wrapped her scarf about her neck, and then stomped back down and out the portrait hole of the common room.
The early evening air was violently chilly. It bit at her exposed face, and she drew her scarf up across her chin, wrapping her cloak more firmly about herself. Nevertheless, it was refreshing. Her mind was cleared, thoughts of which potion would kill and which was merely a harmless replica - or which wizard had smuggled a load of this killing potion across the borders and, please, describe how, where, and most importantly when in massive amounts of detail - were swept into a small, dusty corner of her mind.
The grounds were empty. She wandered down near the lake, pausing to skip a few flat stones across the murky surface. Her hands quickly grew numb. Darkness fell swiftly across the land, swallowing things in shadow. The swollen overcast promised snow, and she eyed it expectantly as she slowly turned to head back up towards the castle.
Then she stopped, a feeling of revulsion washing over her. She had no desire to go back to the common room and attempt to finish up her essay amidst the noisy roar of weekend commotion, only then to retreat to bed and wake the following morning (which would be Sunday) and do it all over...
Lily turned instead and headed towards the Quidditch pitch. Truthfully, she had absolutely no idea of where she was headed; she simply wanted to walk.
And so she did. She strolled across the darkening grass, ignoring the way her eyes stung as the frigid wind crashed into them, or the way the numbness from her hands began to spread throughout her whole body. She ignored the ghost of a longing for the warm fire in the common room, convinced that she did not want to return and give herself another headache...
A long figure was slowly walking from the Quidditch pitch, hands shoved deeply into his pockets. Lily paused, startled to see someone else, regarding the figure curiously. Her bet was that they were returning from flying, as she could see no other possible reason for being down here at this hour when the weather was this bitter.
Without really thinking about it, she angled her path towards the person, intending to discover who it was. It was relatively difficult to see in the gloomy evening, and she hastened her pace, feet skimming across the long tangles of matted grass beneath her.
It appeared the other person didn't know of her rapidly approaching presence. Instead, he gazed off in the complete opposite direction. As Lily drew closer, his features sharpened. He was tall, and sported a head of messy dark hair and a pair of glasses... roguishly handsome and with a ghost of arrogance surrounding him...
Lily groaned loudly. Of all the people, it had to be him.
James Potter.
The one boy who she could absolutely not stand. Head Boy of Hogwarts.
The one boy who had bothered her countless times to go out with him since fourth year and would simply not give up. The one boy who thought pulling pranks was funny,skipping class was something to brag about. The one boy who had...
James had apparently heard Lily groan. He turned, and a large grin lit up his face. It was almost pathetic, really, Lily marveled to herself. He hastened to close the distance between them.
"All right, Evans?" he asked cheerfully.
"I was better a few seconds ago," she retorted, hoping he would get the hint. He didn't. Or else he chose to ignore it.
"Any reason you're out at his hour?" he went on, squinting at her through the falling dusk. She surveyed him a moment before answering. Dancing brown eyes looked down gleefully at her as he mechanically ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it to make messier. His cheeks were tinged pink, and he, like her, had his scarf pulled up high and his cloak drawn tight.
"None that's any business to you," she retorted coolly. She turned at walked briskly up the lawn towards the castle. James hurried to fall in pace beside her.
"I was just flying," he offered as an explanation to why he was out. Lily didn't answer, so he plunged on. "Bit chilly, really, but I missed last practice because I was in detention, so I figured I should..."
He trailed off. Lily felt him looking at her almost hopefully. She scowled. So far, he had yet to ask her out this year. In fact, he had barely bothered her at all. She had been hoping to keep it that way.
"You look rather cold yourself," James said cheerfully a few moments later.
"I'm fine," Lily growled. She doubled her speed. James, with his long legs, easily kept up.
"No, you aren't," James reasoned. "Here, let me help." His hand found hers, and he grasped it firmly. In Lily's sudden shock she found she couldn't respond, and during this time he laced his fingers through hers. Lily swallowed, suddenly feeling very angry. She pulled away from him savagely.
"Don't touch me!" she hissed, taking a few steps sideways. James shrugged indifferently.
"I was just trying to help," he said.
Lily found, with mounting displeasure and rage, that her hand was much colder than before. "Potter," she growled through clenched teeth. "When will you get it through your head that I am not interested?"
He awarded her a politely confused look. "Interested?"
Lily whirled to face him. "You know what I mean! I do not want to go out with you! You've been pestering me at least once a week for three years and the answer is STILL no. Just because you're too big of an arrogant prat to realize that a girl actually turned down the Mighty James Potter -"
"Lily," James cut her off suddenly. Lily, confused by the use of her first name, fell silent. "I didn't ask you out. I just held your hand."
Lily gaped wordlessly at him. "Well - you - I-" she sputtered.
"I won't ask you out," James said firmly. "Not anymore." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Well, not much."
Lily found her voice again. "Not much?"
"Things are different now, Lily," James went on as though he hadn't heard her. "Moony told - er, I mean - I've realized that asking you out repeatedly isn't going to help matters, is it?"
"Nothing gets past you," Lily muttered sarcastically. She turned and started walking again. James caught her arm and pulled her back.
"Look," he said seriously. "I promise I will only ask you out once more. If you say no, than that's that. Okay?"
Lily glared at him. "No," she spat.
"I haven't asked yet," James explained patiently.
"Doesn't matter, the answer will be no."
James merely smiled. "We'll see when I ask, won't we?" he said cheerfully.
Lily let out an angry sound and turned once more. James still had his hold on her arm and didn't release her. "Lily," he said again.
Lily spun around. "What now?" she demanded.
"I promise I'll leave you alone if you say no next time."
Lily eyed him skeptically. "Really?" she questioned tentatively. James nodded earnestly.
A slight smile traced her lips. "Oh, well," she said, at a lost. "Thanks, I suppose."
James smiled. Then he leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers, savoring the spilt second it lasted before she reeled back and slapped him.
"You prat!" she hollered, running her sleeve across her lips.
"What?" James demanded.
Lily let out a disgruntled shriek and turned and raced back towards the castle. "What?" James yelped again after her. "What did I do?" His only answer was her retreating back. He groaned, tenderly rubbing the place she had slapped him.
"Girls."
Remus had said she would respect him for not asking her out anymore (well, except once more, but that was besides the point - he intended to ask her only after he proved to her he wasn't a prat and she fell madly in love with him), but he never said he shouldn't kiss her.
This was all horribly confusing. As he started back towards the castle, James wished for the millionth time that he hadn't fallen for a girl like Lily.
Lily Evans: the only girl who could resist his painfully obvious charm.
At first he had been convinced it was a fleeting attraction. Her flaming red hair and intensely green eyes had caught his attention, but he had been a firm believer in the fact that it would pass.
That was in fourth year. Roughly three years ago. It hadn't passed. It had only grown stronger.
Meanwhile, his passes and attempts to get her to date him by asking her out numerous times ("Do you think that one day she'll wake up and go, 'Oh, I've changed my mind! I will go out with James Potter!'?" Sirius had demanded of him) only drove her to dislike him more and more.
Well, there had to be some small part of her that liked him.
And he, James Potter, was going to find that small part and feed it insanely until it grew and her love for him practically oozed from her pores.
He would just have to fight back his extreme attraction towards her by ignoring her dreadfully powerful alluring nature until there.
Well, James supposed it would be fine just to hold back some of it. An occasional kiss couldn't hurt... could it?
I'll ask Moony, James told himself as he entered the castle at last. He'll know.
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TBC
Sorry this chapter is a bit boring and, well, predictable with the whole "James likes Lily but Lily hates James" thing, but I promise it's going to go a completely different direction once we get into it. Anyway, please review and let me know what you thought!
