Author's Notes: Thank you all so much for the support on the last chapter! I was so shocked when I came home to so many wonderful reviews; I nearly fell out of my chair.


"What!" The screech was barely past Evan's lips before James hand had covered her mouth once more, ignoring her wide-eyed stare momentarily. Two beds down, there was a rustling of covers, and the pair froze. He could have sworn that his heart was beating so furiously it would be enough to rouse anyone, but such was not the case—of which he was glad. He could only guess what someone would assume if they found him in here at night.

Of course, that sort of guess was exactly the thing they were going for, but still…

He shot her a sharp look, and he could see the recognition of the need for silence developing behind those pinpricks of light. Moments later, he was allowing her to breathe once more, and had slid surreptitiously onto the bed beside her.

A quick spell to remove their speech from the world around them, and James was facing her in the dark, hoping this wouldn't take too long to develop—he did want to get some sleep, after all.

"Listen, Evans. Your problem is that Dolohov, he… well, he… bloody hell, he wants you. So you need protection, right?"

She nodded, slowly, but he could see she still wasn't quite catching on. And girls accused guys of being dense—honestly.

"So who is Dolohov afraid of?"

Evans paused, and he could tell she was exhausted by the way that it took her more than three seconds to figure out the answer. It wasn't every day you saw the Head Girl stumped for even the shortest amount of time. Admittedly, she had been through a rather horrid ordeal, but James couldn't help but find it odd anyway.

"Teachers?" Her response was timid, and it was only this revelation that caused him to bite back whatever sharp retort was hovering on his tongue. That was the kind of response one could expect from a former prefect, after all, but he still found it abhorrable.

"How about of the students?"

It was like a light went off and suddenly the dimness of sleep was gone from her emerald eyes, as was the confusion. "Oh—you, of course. And so, if you're going out with me—"

"—Then that means Dolohov has the threat of a duel hanging over his head if he so much as looks at you."

"And the fact that you're known for being overly possessive won't hurt, either." She stated this randomly, ponderously, as though it was a known fact, but James couldn't help but look annoyed. He wasn't possessive—he just didn't like other people taking advantage of his things. Was that so bad?

"How do I explain to my friends that I, quite out of the blue, decided to date you? I don't even really know you."

He paused. This was the part James didn't quite have sorted out, as he had simply raced from his bedroom the moment he figured out the solution. Gazing dimly at the overhanging crimson curtain, he mulled the possibility over in his mind, and found himself landing on nothing. With a slight shrug, he muttered, "I don't know."

Her mouth opened, as though to speak, before it closed once more. They continued on in this way for several more moments, she looking as if she was about to spill forth a spew of information, and he simply waiting. However, when no words came, James was forced to take action. "C'mon, if you have any idea, just say it. I'm up for almost anything."

"Well… what if we just, sort of, told them the truth?" His confused look prompted her onward, and Evans was left to nearly stumble over her words in her haste to get them out. "I mean, what if we just told them that Dolohov attacked me. And then you helped out, and we talked afterward, and we just sort of hit it off. So then—in one of those spontaneous things you randomly do—you decided to ask me out. And I just said yes. Because… because I was feeling a little hurt, and you made me feel happier, and I figured I'd just go for it."

James was grinning by the time her speech finally ended, both because of the fact that she had rambled so incessantly and because it was the perfect solution. Simple, easy, and not really a lie at all—which was good, because he was a terrible liar. That was Sirius's job, not his. "Sounds perfect, Evans. I'll meet you in the common room at seven, then, so we can make this whole routine public?"

He was already moving out of her bed as she spoke, but she was calling after him seconds later, softly. "Hey, wait." James turned, expectantly, with one eyebrow raised—not that she'd be able to see that in the dark. "If we're going to start this whole thing, then it's Lily, not Evans."

He paused, a brightly humored smile adorning his features momentarily, before he swept her a gallant little bow. "In the morning then, Lady Lily."


At precisely seven o'clock, Lily descended the staircase to find James waiting expectantly at the bottom. She offered him a shy smile, relaying her slightly insecure feelings as to the whole situation, and was rewarded by a reassuring grin. He didn't speak as she came down the final steps, and she could find no words to rove past her lips, so for a moment the two stood in awkward silence. Then James was sweeping forward to capture her hand casually in his, and began pulling her out of the room as though the gesture was an ordinary occurrence.

If it had been a cheesy romance novel, Lily suspected there would have been nonsense about how her hand fit perfectly in his and that she knew, in that moment, that she would be in love with him for all of eternity. However, she found his hand to be slightly callused and rather rough, and that it was so large in comparison to hers it simply swallowed it up. But the comforting squeeze he relayed with the slightest amount of pressure was nice, and the relief that perhaps this little ruse would work out all right cheered her greatly.

There were people staring. James noticed the looks of more than one gossiping girl, and several who were not of that genre. He tried not to grimace at their chatting, but an expression of resolute calm was the most he could manage. After all, as Head Boy and one of the most renowned students of the school, he was used to having eyes on him. He just wasn't used to the alarm and disapproval in them. After all, no one cared when he chased after a lovely Ravenclaw—she was one of them—but having Lily on his arm was a whole new idea.

"Is it really that surprising?" He had leaned over to whisper in her ear, attempting for a light tone. She offered him the tiniest of smiles, though no spoken response, just before they entered the Great Hall.

This would be the greatest test, of course. Antonin Dolohov would be waiting just past those doors, and James would be rather shocked if there wasn't some form of confrontation. One thing he knew about the slimy Slytherin was that he wasn't one to give up quickly—especially when he was being challenged.

More stunned gazes met their entry into the Hall, though for the most part it was simply passed over. Another one of James Potter's girls—no surprise there. It was only those who truly knew that the pair had hardly spoken in their life that found it strange.

And, of course, among them was Dolohov.

He had stood up almost the second Lily entered, and James could feel his eyes trailing over the two of them. The sharp gaze was prone first on their closeness, and then on their intertwined fingers, as James immediately drew his knew 'girlfriend' nearer to him. Antonin, giving up on this game of follow-the-leader with the eyes, marched swiftly from his chair to their position halfway to the Gryffindor table, a sneer on his features.

"Potter." The name was uttered crudely and with obvious derision, an emotion that was quite contrary to the drawn out syllables of his next, "Evans." Dolohov had turned her name into a sexual perversion with just the right tones of darkness and suggestion, a fact which set James off immediately.

"Dolohov." Lily remained silent behind him, but the smoldering gazes passing between the young men could not have been missed by anyone.

"Stolen a new play toy, Potter?" The crisp, silvery eyes were assessing the Head Girl as if she were a piece of meat or, at best, a prize horse. The glance didn't even flicker toward her face, instead choosing to remain locked upon everything below her neck, and causing Lily to flinch involuntarily as he ran his tongue along his lips.

"Actually, Lily is my new girlfriend." Just the right touch of arrogance, and just the right authority to enforce the idea that she was his—and that such a thing made her off limits. To anyone.

"Really?" The tone was skeptical now, and James almost wished Lily would speak up, just so she could rid herself of this meek nature. "And when did that come about?"

The half-truth rolled smoothly on his lips, and he didn't so much as bat an eyelash, despite the fact that half the hall was watching. "Last night, in fact. We were talking, and we just really hit it off." Enough information to keep him satisfied, and not enough to tell him too much. Besides, the story would now be around the school before dinner, a fact that Lily and James were counting on.

"Ah. Well, congratulations, Potter. When you get done with her though, I'd love to have a go." One last leer and Dolohov was sauntering coolly back to his table, doing his best to appear just as standoffish as always. Yet James could tell he was, truthfully, supremely angered. And that, if it was any choice of Dolohov, Lily and James were going to see as little as possible of each other.

Which was something he would just have to remedy.


"No, no, no. C'mon Lily, I know you know this stuff—it's not that hard. Difindo. Not difendo. They're just pixies, don't worry."

This was Lily's fifth lesson in self-defense, and James was beginning to get very, very frustrated. Despite the fact that so far they had done nothing but practice on either extremely spiteful pixies or objects he charmed to move, she always seemed to freeze. And when Lily did manage to so much as try a spell, it tended to just fail altogether.

"Look, I'm just not good at this, okay? I don't… I just don't know how to stay focused. Maybe if you would help me with that instead of just scowling like that, this wouldn't be so hard. It doesn't help my self confidence to see you looking so disappointed!" She paused for breath, and his eyebrows lifted behind the curtain of his dark hair. It was the first time he had ever heard her yell and was rather impressed with the tone of her voice and the intimidating picture she made. "I'm sorry."

"No," he rushed to correct her. "It's fine. We just need how to channel that anger into something more effective—like your wandwork. Hold on."

He had an idea. It was, again, a bit rash. But such things had a way of working themselves out. "Turn around." She obeyed, her back to him, and James quickly grabbed his previously discarded tie and transfigured it into an ebony scarf. Moving behind her, he draped the cloth casually over her eyes, noting the sharp intake of her breath. "Look, the thing that's going wrong is that you're getting distracted, right? So we're going to take away your distractions—make you rely on instinct. We'll start with just some charmed pillows again, okay? Is that too tight?" The slight shake of her head signified her comfort, and his hands dropped calmly to settle on her shoulders. "Just breathe Lily. It'll be fine." Another poignant nod and James stood back and quickly charmed a few pillows to begin their slow circle of the girl.

"Listen," he coaxed gently. "Act on what you feel, not what you see. Difindo."

He saw her begin to regulate her breathing, deathly still so as to discover even the slightest change in the air. Her wand was at the ready, and James could already see she was beginning to pinpoint the slow turning of the pillows. This might actually work.

A swift flick of his wand, and one pillow was edging towards her, making its way from the left. He saw her pause, the slightest moment of hesitation, and then she was moving into a cool, "Difindo."

James nearly applauded as the object was ripped in half, but settled for words instead. "Excellent. Now the next ones, please…"

Nearly an hour later, Lily collapsed on the sofa beside James, grinning heartily. With only a few minor slipups, she had moved effortlessly through various different spells, and the remains of several slaughtered pillows littered the floor.

"You have a feather in your hair," he chuckled, his smile broadening as she tried hastily to seek it out and failed miserably. "Here, hold on." Nudging her fingers aside, he gathered the ivory object from just behind her ear, feeling utterly satisfied.

She promptly giggled at the feather and plucked it from his fingers, before depositing it into her pocket. "It'll be my good luck."

"If you keep that up, you won't need any luck."

Lily studied her nails from beneath lowered lashes, shrugging. "I don't know. It was only pillows. I think Dolohov has a bit more attacking power than a bundle of feathers—however lucky they are."

James laughed, looping an arm nonchalantly around her shoulders. "Naw, you really did good. A couple more weeks and you'll be better than me."

"Why James Potter," she demanded, jade gaze twinkling playfully, "when did you get so nice?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lied, adopting a snooty air. "I'm always nice. Or at least, to those people that have a brain."

Lily slapped him lightly on the chest, and he captured her fingers within his own, now shaking his head. "Ah, ah, ah. Is that any way to thank me?"

"Oh, and how would you like to be thanked, Oh Great and Might James Potter?"

He was tempted to tease her, to beg a hug or a kiss or some form of sensuality, but she was too innocent for that. There was something about her nature that sang of a naïveté, and while it might have been ludicrous in anyone else, it only made Lily all the more endearing.

"C'mon," he stated standing and offering her a hand. "If we're gone too much longer, someone might actually miss us."

"Miss me, you mean," she toyed. "I don't know why they'd miss you."

"You do realize, Miss Evans, that that is twice in two minutes you have insulted me?"

"Mhmm."

"And you do realize that such an act deserves sever punishment?" The corners of his lips were being drawn once more into a wicked grin, but Lily no longer stood down.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really." And with that, he promptly attacked her with his fingers, tickling her sides mercilessly. She practically fell onto the sofa once more, her giggles ringing with insane clarity as she gasped for breath. "Say it," James demanded, fighting from bursting into laughter himself.

"Say… what?" She was begging, gasping, and he was as cool as a cucumber.

"That I'm the nicest person you've ever met, and you'd miss me terribly if I was gone."

"You—" she panted between breaths "—are the—nicest—nicest—person that I've—I've met. And—and—and I'd miss you—loads—if you were–gone."

He completed his tickling match, grinning down cheerfully at Lily. "Good girl."

"Better than you, you rotten little unloved boy," she cackled, before twisting past him to begin her way down the hall. Chasing after her with all the speed of his Quidditch reflexes, the sound of the Head Boy and Girl's laughter rang throughout the hall for some while yet—and no one doubted that they were together.


Thank you all again so much for the reviews. I'll answer any questions, and I wish I had space to reply to you all, but unfortunately, I hate taking up room to do that. Do you all think I should have a livejournal I can post responses at, like Sarinileni? Do tell.

And to Leaves of Autumn: This really isn't intended to be much more than very short, so don't expect loads of character development. I will do my best, but I'm not a big fan of flashbacks and stuff, so there probably won't be any. I'm sorry.