PLEASE READ MY AUTHOR'S NOTE.

A/N: Well this is the last chapter! Probably one of my corniest, sappiest, and worst written, but I wanted to finish this story before summer ended. Well I hope you guys enjoyed this story.

Now I'm not really that proud of this chapter, at all. I tried to put myself in Lily's position for why she might hate James so much in the books, and I tried to come up with a reason. The reason I came up with is really…opinionated. As in, it would depend on your personality whether you could agree with it or not. I happen to get hurt really easily so I tried to make it something that would hurt me. But I'm sure there are people out there who'd agree that Lily wouldn't hate James because of something like this…

Well like I said I'm not entirely proud of this chapter.

And NO I'm not making a sequel.

Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter.

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James looked at the blond girl standing beside the couch. He immediately recognized her as the girl who had cornered him the Friday morning before the Quidditch game. She had stormed off when he admitted that she was a stranger to him.

"Who are you?" he asked, feeling deja vu.

"That isn't important," she coolly replied.

"Who in bloody hell are you?" he scowled.

"It doesn't matter."

James's scowl widened, but immediately disappeared when she pushed his shoulders back, climbed on top of him, and forced her tongue into his mouth.

James was too shocked to respond, and primitive instinct took over as he moved his tongue with hers.

What am I doing?
And, though both his heart and mind revolted, he made no effort to push her off. Their tongues kept dancing, even when he heard the portrait hole open and heard a familiar voice squeak a gasp.

He could picture the look on Lily's face; envision every single line of betrayal. Of course, she'd be hypocritical, but she had been the one to admit she wouldn't wait forever.

And she'd hate him now, assured that if he could sweet talk her one moment and French kiss some blond the next, then he didn't truly love her.

Of course, that was EXACTLY how Lily felt. She knew she was being incredibly hypocritical, but only minutes before he had shared an intimate moment with her, where more was said non-verbally than had been spoken. Only minutes before, he had implied that he loved her and wanted to be hers.

Yet she chased after him to find some other girl on top of him, kissing each other passionately.

The girl finally pulled away, looking at the pale-faced Lily with raised eyebrows.

"Your girlfriend?" the girl laughed. "Well looks like your boyfriend's been straying. He didn't even TRY to stop me."

The worst part was that James couldn't deny it. He hadn't tried to stop the unknown female, and instead had taken advantage of the moment.

The girl didn't say anything, but smirked egotistically all the while she stood up and left the common room.

At least clean up the bloody mess you made, James thought.

Lily didn't say anything, or more couldn't say anything, and James automatically knew that the pain she must be feeling was worse than what he had felt.

But Lily didn't cry. Instead, she regained her composure, adding more ice to her voice.

"You must have been amused this past month," she said, only spite heard in her voice.

"What does that mean?" James asked feeling suddenly enraged with her hypocrisy.

"Tell me, did you REALLY ever love me, or when we figured out what had happened between us in the past did you feel nothing, and only saw an opportunity for another girl in your bed?"

James didn't reply, stupidly enough.

Lily took it as a chance to continue. "So there were no real feelings between us. After all, I never felt anything for you, EVER." It was a lie, obviously, but James didn't know that.

"I DO like you, Evans," James said.

"Well that's a pity, because I don't like you, at all, not in the least bit."

"I'll keep bothering you until you admit you do like me."

"So be it."

Unsure of exactly what had happened, Lily walked out the Portrait Hole and back to the ball while James walked up to his dormitory. All she knew was that she hated James, hated everything about him. But what she hated more was the stabbing feeling in her heart; what she hated more was that she understood what James had felt for her, but had thrown it aside, and her pride wouldn't let her dig through the garbage and get it back.

Maybe someday, she thought. Someday, I'll put this behind me, and we won't be Lily Evans and James Potter. We'll just be…

Lily and James.

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James looked critically in the mirror, from his untidy black hair to his long and muscular legs.

He hadn't changed at all.

Of course, he was taller, better built, and more mature. But a little bit of that 14-year-old boy still thrived in his 20-year-old body.

Lily stood next to him suddenly. James looked at the petite body of his wife, who had grown only a few inches in the past six years.

There was one noticeable difference, however. Her waist (once tiny and invisible) was now expanded to signify the five-months along unborn baby inside.

"What are you thinking about, Potter?" she asked.

"How I finally managed to get you to the alter, Potter," he responded.

"Everyone who asks will be told that you fed me a love potion until it was too late for me to turn back." She put her arms on her belly for emphasis to what she meant. James scowled at her.

"Woman, you are impossible."

She batted her eyelashes innocently at him. "Temper, Potter."

"That's Mr. Potter," he grumbled. "After all, I can't call you Evans anymore, and if we both called each other Potter…well that'd be odd." He wrapped his arms around his wife. "Sometimes I wonder if you're worth the trouble you've caused me all these years."

"The trouble I'VE caused YOU? Excuse me, but aren't YOU the one who daily tortured me, just to make me go out with you?"

"Yes, and that daily torture took a lot of trouble!" he replied, tickling her as he said it.

When she managed to get away, she said, "To put an end to those treasonous thoughts of yours, I'm worth MORE than the trouble I've caused."

"Why, we're definitely full of ourselves."

"I have a reason to be. After all, I captured the heart of the most handsome 14-year-old at Hogwarts."

"As well as 11-year-old…and 15…and 16…and eventually 40…"

Lily smiled sweetly at James. "Why DID I finally say yes?"

"You don't remember?" he sulked. "I had to bother you into it for three years…and the one time everything changed, I kidnapped you and took you on a broomstick flight, only the second one you ever went on."

Lily sulked. "You and your pathetic attempts at romance."

"It worked, didn't it?"

Lily laughed, hugging her husband. "How could you have put up with me for so long?"
James dropped his voice to a whisper. "Once, I told you I'd wait for you, Miss Evans. And I meant it Mrs. Potter. I honestly meant it."