Dear Lily,

Remus has decided that I've officially gone off the deep end. For the past two weeks I've been dragging him to the library every evening after dinner to "study for N.E.W.T.s"…and by study for NEWTS I mean practice speeches. Speeches intended for you, to put me back into your good graces, or, at the very least, force you to speak to me again. Remus says that if I tell him "I love you" one more time that he might actually hit me, but he's been a good sport. See, he refuses to say the thing that he and I both know is true, even if neither of us will admit it – it's been two weeks, and you're just not interested.

Sluggy sat us together in Potions today and you didn't say a word. I tried to make small talk, asking you how your shift last night was and how was your mum and lovely weather and those sorts of things, but you were dreadfully uninterested and I didn't manage more than a grunt out of you, which was really quite saddening. Desperate to talk to you, I tipped over a bottle of your armadillo bile a few moments before the bell rang. I leaned down to help you clean up and you told me to go, but I stayed until everyone else – even Slughorn – had left the room.

"Lily, about that Saturday…"

"It doesn't matter, James. Just go."

"That's the thing. It does matter. To me, it matters."

"I really am sorry, you know."

"You haven't told him, have you?"

"No." You frowned. "It's not that I don't like you, James, it's just… I'm with Wilkes and Wilkes is a decent bloke and you… I can't have been wrong about you for seven years. I just can't."

Which is when I realized the horrible irony of it all – you refuse to leave Wilkes because in being wrong about me you would have failed yourself, but in refusing to give me a chance I fail.

I wonder what you'll think when you read this and realize that we're the exact same stubborn person.

I'll still give you these letters at year's end, but I want you to know that I've given up on us. In this ongoing, six-year battle, you win. I still love you, of course, but if you're happy, then I'm satisfied.

—James

P.S. As your secret admirer, I received an owl tonight. You asked to cancel our meeting on the train home because of Wilkes, but I convinced you to come, telling you that I just wanted to say hello. I just want to give you these letters, Lily. I just want you to know who I am.