Lily Evans sat purposefully at a desk in the library, pretending to study but really finishing off the last words to the letter she was writing to her sister, Petunia. Petunia and Lily did not have the best relationship—considering that Lily's sister avoided her whenever possible and openly comment how much of a freak she was for her magical abilities. However, this time things were urgent. Lily needed to talk to someone about James and there was no one else she could turn to. Her Muggle friends back in Little Whinging thought that she was attending an all-girls academy, and her friends here at Hogwarts didn't understand why she wouldn't just go out with James. Petunia was the only person Lily knew that could give a completely objective view of the situation… well, 'objective' considering the skewed facts Lily was undoubtedly giving her.
Miss Evans was no stranger to boys. She had had a few relationships in the past, all tragically ending by James finding out and threatening the boy so badly that he refused even to talk to Lily again. But James Potter was his own species, something despite his constant presence that Lily could not quite figure out.
"What an oaf," she thought to herself, signing the letter in one long stroke of a quill and sealing it shut. She would take it up to the Owlery later that day. Of course, she knew that whatever terse reply she would get back from her sister, it would not arrive for quite a long time, for Petunia refused to use the Owl Post. It just felt better to get it off of her chest.
Lily sighed morosely. Maybe being Head Girl was not the wonderful task she had thought it was going to be. She tucked the letter inside her Charms book and packed up the rest of her books into her side bag, which she had scattered across the table for effect. Behind her Lily heard the soft scuffling of feet. She turned around to find a scholarly-looking boy of seventeen wiping a strand of light brown hair out of his face.
"Hello, Remus," Lily smiled, greeting the only one of James Potter's friends that she could stand conversing with. He was quite intelligent, and had been made prefect along with her in their fifth year. Remus Lupin primarily took to studying, although Lily was certain that he was no doubt in on every one of James and Sirius' pranks, even if he chose not to stand on the frontline. A smart choice if Lily did say so herself.
"Lily," Remus nodded politely. That was another thing, Lily thought to herself. Remus was polite, a gentlemen, something that James could not ever hope to be even on his best day. "What has drawn you to the library this morning?"
"Writing a letter," she said calmly, not afraid to tell him the truth.
"Ah, I see," he answered quietly, smiling. "Well, I supposed all letters have to be mailed at one time or another. I shall see you around, Miss Evans."
"Alright," she replied nicely to his retreating figure, who took the dimly lit table in the farthest corner of the library. That was Remus for you; he knew when enough was enough and didn't force you to give your entire life's story every time you met. Lily frowned at him, for even in the murky light of his corner she could see a premature wrinkle lining his face. She felt sorry that he had to have James, Sirius, and Peter as friends. However, she was no stranger to the fact that that was the company he had chosen, and he was quite capable of removing himself anytime he wanted to. She wondered if Remus was a different person when he was around them.
That night, Lily left Gryfinndor tower to make her way up to the Owlery. It was only a good half-hour before curfew, but it was not her night to patrol the halls so she did not have to meet Professor McGonagall in her office, which was much out of her way. If there were no distractions, she would get back to her dormitory with minutes to spare.
There were still a few students buzzing around in the corridor, friends from separate houses saying their goodbyes as they parted ways to reach their Common Room, students who enjoyed a late dinner making their way upstairs from the Great Hall, and teachers retiring for the night. Thus, Lily went unnoticed as she made her way up to the Owlery. Whenever she had a letter to mail, she always preferred to go at night, for it ensured greater privacy, something Lily considered a right of hers which was constantly abused.
There was no one in the hall, but Lily still distinctly heard the shambling of feet behind her. She turned around quickly on the spot and the sound stopped. She turned her head every which way, trying to find where the noise was coming from. Even in a school of magic, hearing someone or something that she could not see was not a good occurrence.
"Who's there?" she asked with a small voice, craning her neck into the increasing darkness. There was no answer.
Noticing that it was later than she thought, Lily compulsively lit her wand and began walking again. Just as soon as her left food hit the ground, she heard the noise again. Lily shut her eyes tightly and quickening her pace, not even wanting to think about the possibilities of what lay behind her. The footsteps grew quicker and louder themselves, quickly overpowering Lily. Her heart pounded against her chest, as if trying to escape. She could not talk; her throat had gone dry. But as soon as the mysterious footsteps had come, their sound was retreating into the darkness ahead of her, just out of earshot. About this time, Lily was a few yards away from the staircase leading to the Owlery, and stopped to catch her breath—which she had been holding for the entire walk—before making her way into the smelly room with no windowpanes.
"Hullo, Evans," said a jaunty voice that Lily knew too well. She jumped for a second, not believing her ears, and then turned to face the one and only James Potter.
"Do you have no shame?" she asked exasperatedly, arching an eyebrow and thinking that somehow James had known she was going to come up here. Had Remus told him? Had he been holding a stakeout in the Owlery all day? Lily did not even want to think about the odd circumstances which could have arisen.
"You know, they tell me I don't," he said heartily, messing up his jet black hair. He stood by the wall of the Owlery with one leg propped up against the stone.
"Who? The little voices inside your head?" Lily shot back before calling her owl, a regal looking tawny named Circe, down to perch on the side of the nearest windowsill. She made a conscious effort not to look at James, who was inching ever closer. Reaching into the pocket of her robes for the letter, Lily realized with a start that she had forgotten to take it out of her Charms book, which now lay exposed on her four-poster bed.
"And what brings you up here on this gorgeous night, milady?" James asked, reminding her of Remus' greeting earlier in the morning, however much more vain.
"Sending a letter," she mumbled, preoccupied, checking ever possible spot in her robes where her note to Petunia might have gotten to.
"Really now? I don't see a letter," he answered slyly.
"I must've forgotten—"
"I think you came up here to see me."
"What?" probed Lily, clearly shocked.
"What?" James mimicked, feigning confusion. "I think I made myself perfectly clear. I think you came up here because you wished enjoy my company."
"That's absolutely ridiculous on so many levels, Potter," Lily argued. "For one, never have I ever enjoyed your company, and for two, how in the world could I ever have known you'd be up here?"
"Well, they say there are inexplicable connections between and person and their other half."
"You think—" Lily started to ask, and James nodded. Lily looked at him in disgust. "If I am your other half, may I suffer an early death."
With that, Lily Evans marched down the staircase and out of the Owlery, Circe hooting in discord for having not been giving a job or even a pat goodbye. James also seemed to want a word of farewell, for he too departed the room and followed Lily into the corridor, like a dog on her heels.
"Evan—wait!" he called, quickening his pace to catch up with Lily.
She wanted more than anything to let him keep calling her as she stormed back to the Common Room, but the night had grown darker and no matter how competent a witch she knew herself to be, it wouldn't hurt for some company if the eerie footsteps decided to show up again. Therefore, she let James walk with her, and they walked in peaceful silence through the corridor. A few times she thought she heard the sound again, but it was just the padding of James' trainers on the stone floor.