A/N: Hey everyone, I'm really sorry I've not written in a while, I've been really busy. Since it's the new year I've had a day or two to write and finish another chapter, and I'll be planning and hopefully writing another very soon.
I hope you guys like this chapter, I structured it a little differently at the end, but you know, whatever. Enjoy the chapter ^^

Lily pressed her back against the wall of the corridor as a large group of fourth years pushed past her, eagerly chatting about and predicting the turnout of the Quidditch match that was due to begin. Lily was however moving in the opposite direction to the crowds and the pitch, and towards the library. Yes, she enjoyed watching a good game of Quidditch, but not when it was Gryffindor against Slytherin. She couldn't stand the loathsome comments and jeers from the two sides of the pitch. She knew there was nothing wrong with a bit of healthy competition, but the insults were genuine and harsher than usual. She refused to be surrounded by it, and anyway, she had better things to do.

As the crowds began to thin out, she continued on her way, moving less cautiously now as she had a much smaller change of being elbowed in the side. As she neared the library, she checked her watch. Great, she thought to herself, it should be about empty by now. She smirked to herself when she saw that only three other people occupied the room: a couple of third years completing what seemed to be overdue homework, and a seventh year, head buried deep in a book.
She dumped her bag on a table at the very back, unpacked her books and equipment, and began her potions essay in peace.

An hour or so passed, and Lily was half way through her essay, feeling thankful that the Snitch had not yet been caught.
She put down her quill and rested her head in her hands, taking a few moments rest. This rest was interrupted though, by a sharp whisper right inside her ear.
"Hard at work?"
Lily gasped loudly and physically jumped out of her seat, sending textbooks flying in all directions and splattering ink across her cheek.
"What the fuck? Sev, you total arse-" As Lily turned around, stood before her was not the slim, tall figure of Snape, but a set of drenched and muddy red and gold Quidditch robes, clinging to the body of none other than James Potter.
"Oh, expecting somebody else?" He smirked smugly. "I think that's the first time I've ever heard you swear, Evans!"
Lily scowled, her relaxed mood ruined. "I-what? Leave me alone, I'm trying to study! And, what, swear? What? What are you – Why are you even here?"
James looked puzzled for a moment, and then realised what Lily had meant.
"Oh – oh the match, you mean, I'm playing today. Broken wrist." He waved a freshly bandaged arm proudly. "On my way back now, I have to. I mean, they can't win it without me, can they?"
Lily's jaw dropped in disgust. Such egotism.
"I meant here. The Quidditch pitch is in the other direction. Why are you in the library?"
"Oh," James raised his eyebrows and smiled. "I came to say 'hi'". He leant against the table, a proud smile on his face.
"I – How did you know I was here? Did you search the whole school just so you could show off your bandage?"
"Ah, that's for me to know and for you to… not… find out." He tapped the side of his nose and winked. (A/N: Perhaps James has been consulting the Map?)
"So, Evans," he leant in, (uncomfortably close, in Lily's opinion), "Why are you sat in here, and not out in the stands, watching me grace the pitch?"
Lily smiled sarcastically. "Quite frankly, Potter, I'd rather stick my head up a Hippogriff's arse than watch you do anything, let alone go out of my way to give you the satisfaction of having my attention, even for one minute."
James smirked. "Isn't that what you're doing now, though?"
Lily let out an angry sigh. "Look here, Potter. I don't like you, at all. I don't care how talented you are, how popular you are," Her voice became a threatening whisper. "I don't care how… how good looking you think you are, stay away from me. You're an obnoxious fool, Potter, and if you don't keep your distance, you might find that precious broomstick of yours shoved through one of your eye sockets."

Unfortunately, James didn't seem as offended as Lily would have liked; instead he leant in closer still, so close in fact that their noses were almost touching.
"I don't think I like your tone, Evans. I think you need to remember who you're talking to!"
Lily laughed spitefully. "I'd show more respect to a dung beetle."
James stood up abruptly, forcing Lily backwards into a bookcase. She winced: her spine had hit the sharp edge of a bookshelf. She tried to push James backwards so she could get free, but he stood his ground; he was stronger than he looked. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them by her head, preventing her from pushing him or trying to wriggle free.
She eyed James viciously. "If you don't move right now - "
"You'll what? Get Snivellus to hex me?" He jeered.
"Don't call him that!" Lily hissed.
"I heard you're going out with him now, hm? You're to good for him, Lily, you should be with me, soaking up all the glory…"
"I would never, ever, go anywhere near y-"
"We'll see," James whispered softly, and swiftly dropped her wrists, turned around and left the library, as if nothing had happened.

Minutes later, Lily was still stood squashed against the bookcase, anger and shock pulsing around her veins. She slumped to the floor, massaging her spine, not quite sure if she should be worried or not.

Snape hated Quidditch. He couldn't see how watching or playing a game based around throwing and catching could be appealing to anybody over the age of twelve, and so, like every school match, Snape hadn't attended today's.
He'd remembered that Lily had wanted to start an essay today, and so he'd assumed she'd be in the library, taking advantage of the peace and quiet. He made his way up to the third floor, hoping to catch her before she left the library, knowing she'd appreciate the company and assistance.

What he discovered, though, when he got there, was quite the opposite of what he had expected. He'd expected to see Lily sitting alone, pouring over text books and scribbling away. Instead, he found Lily sitting at a table, face to face with James Potter.

They were just casually talking, it seemed, and sitting a little too close to each other as Snape would have liked. He stood by the entrance to the library, watching and attempting to listen. They were too far away to hear, but Snape heard snippets. "Good looking…. Talented."
It then dawned on him: Had Lily mistaken her loathing for Potter for something else? Did she actually like him? Why else would she call him good looking and talented?
Lost in thought, Snape failed to see Lily being forced backwards into the bookcase, but did happen to see both of James' hands rise upwards, perhaps to her face. He couldn't see their faces, but noticed that their bodies were practically pressed against each other… Were they kissing? He couldn't think why they would be, why Lily would do that… She wouldn't lead him on if she really liked Potter instead… but they were putting on a pretty convincing show in Snape's opinion. Why else would they be pressed against each other, out of sight and in a corner?

Disgusted with the images his mind was creating of Lily, his Lily, with that bastard, he turned on his heel and left the third floor, anger, betrayal and confusion consuming his thoughts.

A/N: What did you think? It might come across as a bit confusing as to why James did what he did, but it'll be explained better in the next chapter. I hoped you liked it, please review and anticipate :D