Two weeks had passed since her fight with Severus—two weeks since the arrival of the new student. She didn't like to use his name; his appearance, similar to Potter's, gave her a distaste.

Yet there was something else to him. Something… appealing.

It wasn't like he tried to stand out to her. He wasn't one to actively seek attention, nor was he the bold, daring Gryffindor type. There was something about the way he carried himself, how he always seemed to be working something out in his head—quiet, reserved, but with an intensity that was impossible to ignore. It drew her in, tugging at her curiosity like a moth to a flame.

The Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter, but one section of the Gryffindor table remained notably quieter. Harry Potter sat alone, arms crossed, his face taut, and his eyes darkened by a frown. Across the room, Lily's gaze drifted toward him again, as it had done far too often lately.

His banter from a week before, sharp and unfiltered words as he reprimanded the Marauders for their latest prank, were still echoing through her mind. It was a subtle but cutting display of disapproval, different from the Harry she'd observed before—the one who kept his head down and mostly stayed out of the spotlight. It was a pleasant surprise.

And now, instead of joining his friends as usual, he sat isolated, brooding over his bowl of porridge.

What is wrong with me? she thought, twisting a lock of her fiery red hair. She had barely touched her breakfast, too distracted by the thoughts swirling inside her head. Why can't I stop thinking about him? Every day, it seemed like Harry Potter was all she could focus on, despite how determined she was to brush it off.

She didn't understand this fixation. It wasn't just today. No, this feeling had been building for weeks- and it wasn't just his looks, though she couldn't deny that his messy dark hair and intense green eyes had their own charm. There was something deeper in the way he spoke with quiet conviction and stood apart from the crowd even when surrounded by people. He was always in her mind, always present.

Lily shook her head as if that would clear her thoughts. Why him? She didn't get it. It was as if Harry was living rent-free in her brain, and the worst part was that she wasn't sure if she wanted him out. She wasn't obsessed—surely not—but God, it felt like she couldn't go a single day without wondering what he was thinking or why he always seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's just a boy, she reminded herself, tearing her eyes away, only to glance back a moment later. So why does he feel like so much more?

Seeing him sitting alone, looking so disconnected from everyone around, made something twist in her chest. Compassion? Pity? Or was it something else entirely? She wasn't sure anymore, and that uncertainty drove her mad. Lily had always prided herself on knowing her own mind, but when it came to Harry, it was as though her emotions were playing tricks on her. The line between what she felt and what she thought she should feel was becoming harder to see.

From across the hall, Harry looked up emotionlessly, catching her gaze for the briefest moment before looking away. Lily's heart did a strange flip in her chest. She quickly looked down, pretending to focus on her breakfast, but her appetite was long gone.

She looked at him again, but his attention wasn't on her anymore. His gaze was fixated on his plate as he started eating eggs.

She wasn't exactly the best role model lately, especially as a prefect. She was supposed to help him acclimate, but instead, she almost attacked him when she met him. Not to count all the times she snapped at him.

Maybe, just maybe, if I apologise to him, I will feel better. Maybe this whole madness will end…

She stood up from the table determinately and came to his side at a fast pace before she had a chance to change her mind.

"Hi!" She said, startling him. He almost choked on the eggs before turning to her. She raised her hand awkwardly in greeting, smiling the same way. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No, of course not." He answered, though his face was telling otherwise. The grumpy, annoyed look as if it was the last place he wanted to be at.

"Great! Is this seat free?" She pointed to the place next to him.

He looked at her for a longer while. It was easy for her to tell he was fighting hard not to frown even harder. She couldn't blame him, really. What would be exactly the reason for someone who supposedly didn't like him to sit with him now? For someone who was avoiding him? The sudden change surely had to be suspicious.

"Sure," she heard him say and released the breath she didn't realise she was holding.

"I thought so, but it's always good to ask." She said nervously, taking a deep breath. "So…"

"…"

"How are you finding Hogwarts so far?"

"Hogwarts?" Harry asked dumbly, suddenly torn out of his thoughts.

"Yeah." She smiled a little nervously. "I mean, your transfer, right? It must be... overwhelming. New school, new people… new everything."

"Err, sure," Harry shrugged, "the castle's great. Got a little bit too much attention for my liking, but beside it, it's fine, I guess."

"Good. That's good… sometimes, even after five years, I still catch myself in awe of this place. The way the light hits the water, or how the Great Hall feels at night—it's... special."

Harry nodded absently, returning to his quiet thinking. He wore a frown on his face, and Lily couldn't stop wondering about dilemmas that had to be swarming in his head.

"What about the classes?" she pressed, leaning back on her hands. "Any favourites so far?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts is great," he said finally, after a while of thinking. "Charms, too."

"Flitwick is brilliant, isn't he? He's the best! And you're lucky—Defense is decent this year. Some years, it's been a complete disaster."

"I guess I've gotten lucky then." Lily thought she would burst with pride when she managed to snatch a smile from him. It was very faint but a smile nonetheless. She observed as his expression changed to a slight frown.

"I need to be going," he said, rising from his seat, "See you later, I guess."

Before she could answer, he was already gone. Her mind was instantly sent into a spiral of thinking about where he was going and what he had better to do than spend time with her.

She watched him flick his wand, focusing intently on the goblet before him. Slowly but surely, it shifted, the edges smoothing out and the surface gleaming as it transformed into a perfect silver chalice. Professor McGonagall, standing nearby, gave a small approving nod.

"Well done, Mr. Shunpike," she said, "Your work is precise. Keep it up."

She saw him look around the class. He must have felt her staring at him. Soon enough, he noticed her sending him basilisk glares. When Lily noticed he was looking back at her, she returned to her wand work, glaring at her goblet even deadlier. She waved her wand again, and the goblet wobbled but refused to change shape. Only the possibility of detention and losing points to her house stopped her from cursing out loud. She hated being worse. And now she wasn't only worse than Potter in transfiguration, but also than him.

"Miss Evans," McGonagall called out. Her voice was kind but firm, "You need to focus. Precision is key in Transfiguration. Why don't you observe Mr. Shunpikes' technique? He seems to have grasped the spell quite well."

Harry seemed to stiffen, feeling Lily's sharp green eyes snap toward him.

She flushed, embarrassed by the suggestion. "I'm fine. I'll get it."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Lily's tone. "Nevertheless, a little guidance wouldn't hurt. Mr. Shunpike, would you mind assisting Miss Evans?"

Harry bit his uncertainly, "Of course, Professor," he said quietly, trying to mask the awkwardness. He moved closer to Lily's desk, feeling her irritation radiating off her like heat.

Lily crossed her arms, muttering under her breath, "I don't need help. Not from him," She added even quieter.

Harry chose to ignore the remark, "You're overcomplicating the wand movement. It's more of a smooth arc, not a jab. Watch." He demonstrated the spell again, and the goblet transformed into a chalice. Lily huffed, frustrated.

"Okay," she huffed, frustrated and picked up her wand again. She glanced quickly at McGonagall, only to find the older witch looking at her intently. With a deep sigh, swallowing her pride, she mimicked his movements, but the transformation was only partial—her goblet was still wobbly, and the edges were uneven.

Harry smiled at her encouragingly, or at least tried, because, for her, it looked like a barely camouflaged grimace under the mask of a forced smile. "That's better. You've got the right idea; you just need to keep your wrist steady."

Lily scowled, annoyed by both her repeating failures and Harry's patience. "Easy for you to say," she muttered, "Some of us actually have to try."

"Everyone struggles with something. You'll get there, don't worry."

Lily shot him a glare, "You don't have to be so nice about it, you know." It irritated her that he was so calm while she couldn't keep her cold.

"I'm just trying to help," Harry said, stepping back to give her space.

The rest of the lesson passed with Lily snapping at him a few more times. By the end of the class, she managed to produce a somewhat passable chalice, though it was far from perfect.

When the bell rang, Harry quickly returned to his previous seat to gather his things. He was already near the door before she could even fasten her bag. She suddenly felt a pang of guilt for snapping at him so often. It wasn't fair to him to spill her frustrations on the poor boy.

She practically ran after him, startling her friends. With a bit of luck, she had a chance of catching him before he disappeared who-knows-where. Quite strangely, he learned the castle quite quickly and had a knack for appearing out of nowhere. Another thing that annoyed her - she was a third year until she finally fully learned Hogwarts and all its nooks and crannies.

"Hey! Harry! Wait up!"

He turned to see her jogging toward him, and she suddenly felt her cheeks getting warmer. She stopped a few steps away, fidgeting with the strap of her bag.

"I, uh... I just wanted to say I'm sorry," she said, looking anywhere but at him. "For snapping at you in class. That was... uncalled for."

Harry's unreadable expression became much friendlier; even a tiny smile graced it. "It's fine."

Her shoulders relaxed slightly, though she still felt uneasy. "No, it's not. You were really patient, and... well, thanks for helping me. I just get so frustrated when I can't get something right. And you show up suddenly from thin air and get everything done perfectly…" she blushed, blubbering.

"I get it," Harry said, and she felt another pang of guilt because his voice was understanding. "Transfiguration's tricky. It's not about power—it's about focus. It takes time. It took me almost four years to get it, in fact."

"Is there something you can't do?"

"I have never been particularly good at potions."

She gave him a small, genuine smile. "Oh! It so happens that I'm quite decent at potions. Maybe… maybe I could help you sometime? As a thank you for your help. Only If you're not too busy, of course!"

Harry studied her for a bit, biting his lip. "I guess I would like that. Thanks."

Lily's smile widened. "Great! Thanks again," she said, giving him a quick nod before heading toward the Great Hall. She felt his eyes on her as she slowly returned to the group of her friends who were giggling for some unknown reason.

The Gryffindor common room had been too noisy for Lily's liking, so they ended up in the library. The quiet atmosphere was more suitable than the lively chatter of their classmates. They settled into a secluded corner, with parchment and books spread across the table.

Lily was already poring over her potions textbook. "So," Lily said, breaking the silence, "with what exactly do you have a problem with?"

"Everything?"

"Let's start with the basics then," she sighed and rolled her eyes theatrically. "Without the basics, it's a wonder how you have made it to the fifth year without knowing how to properly prepare a simple Shrinking Solution."

Harry shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm just not good at Potions," he muttered. "I didn't have the right touch, they said."

"Well, I think that's rubbish," Lily said, not looking at him. She paid all her attention to flicking pages of the textbook. "It's not about touch; it's about precision. Potions are like cooking—if you follow the recipe, you'll get it right. Do you like cooking, Harry?"

"I guess?"

Finally, finding the page she was looking for – from the first-year textbook out of everything – she pulled the book out in the middle of the table. The page showed a diagram of a cauldron and its tools on a scrap of parchment. "First, let's talk about preparation. Most mistakes in Potions come from sloppy prep work. You have to chop ingredients properly, measure them precisely, and add them at the right time. Got it?"

"Got it." Harry nodded, and she bit down a giggle as he looked a bit like a confused first-year.

"Good. Now, take a look at this recipe." She slid her textbook toward him, pointing at the neatly written steps for a Shrinking Solution. "What's the first step?"

Harry scanned the page, his brow furrowing. "Peel the daisy roots and slice them thinly," he read.

"Exactly," she said, smiling encouragingly. "And how would you do that?"

"Uh... with a knife?" Harry guessed, earning a snort from her.

"Yes, with a knife," she said, grinning. "But you need to make sure the slices are even. If they're too thick or thin, the potion won't be consistent. Here." She pulled out a small pouch of ingredients and a silver knife. "Try peeling this daisy root."

After a while, she leaned over, inspecting his work. "Not bad, but try holding the root steady with your other hand. Like this." She reached out, guiding his hand gently. He nodded, focusing on the task. This time, his slices were more uniform.

"There you go," Lily said, smiling. "See? You're not hopeless."

"Thanks," Harry said smiling, "You're a good teacher."

"Well, someone has to be," she smiled, leaning back in her chair. "Now, let's talk about stirring. It's not just about moving the spoon in circles—it's about timing and direction. Watch."

She demonstrated the proper stirring technique with precise and deliberate movements.

"Your turn," she said, handing him the spoon.

Harry tried to mimic her, but his movements were a bit awkward at first. She watched closely, correcting him when necessary but always with patience.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked suddenly, stopping the task she gave next.

"That's why I'm here, am I not?" She said absently, not taking her nose out of a book she was reading.

"Why do you hate James so much?"

Her peaceful face screwed up with an ugly scowl, "I do not hate him per se. Just strongly dislike him."

"But why? He doesn't seem like a bad person-"

"But not good either," she interrupted him with a huff, "he's immature and annoying. The things he's doing that he thinks are 'funny' are really troublesome and irritating."

"Maybe if you gave him a chance-"

"I will give him a chance when the hell freezes over." She said curtly, finishing the conversation.

By the time they finished the practice session, Harry had successfully prepared a small vial of Shrinking Solution—well, not exactly a potion yet, as there are no cauldrons in the library, and Pince would rather kill them if they dared to start a fire there—no, it was only the ingredients floating in the water.

"It's not perfect," Lily said, inspecting the vial, "but it's definitely an improvement. Keep practicing, and you'll get there."

"Thanks, Lily," Harry said sincerely. "I really appreciate this."

She shrugged with a playful glint in her eyes. "You're welcome. Just don't blow anything up in class, okay? I don't want Slughorn blaming me for your potion disasters. It would hurt my reputation."

Harry laughed, making her feel a pleasant warmth inside. She felt like he wasn't just learning from her—he was connecting with her.

Lily was quite proud of herself if she was being honest. In two weeks, Harry, under her close supervision, made rather big improvements for such a short period. It appeared he wasn't 'daft' at potions as he once not-so-jokingly-for-her-liking put it. He just lacked a good teacher.

She was heading towards the library for their next study session when she heard shouts from the outside.

She ran out of the small courtyard to see what the whole commotion was about. Not surprisingly, there was a Potter on a broom flying high near one of the towers, flipping something over while the crowd cheered for him. Her brows knitted in suspicion; her eyes wandered over the people gathered on the square. Soon enough, she saw a little girl, not older than the first year, bawling her eyes out. A few of her friends gathered around her in an attempt to comfort her. Lily quickly walked up to her, not only fulfilling the duty of a Prefect and exemplary student but a decent human being.

"Sweetheart, what had happened?" she asked, kneeling before her and softly placing a comforting hand on the girl's back. The girl tried to answer but was choking on her tears. "Take your time; we don't rush anywhere," she said with a warm, kind smile and embraced the girl in a soothing hug. It appeared to help ease her terrifying sobs.

"H…He, He stole my teddy bear!" The girl cried out, pointing to where James was flying on his broom. It didn't take long before the girl burst into tears again.

Lily felt as if her blood started to boil. How dare he! Picking on a sweet, innocent little girl…

"Potter!" She shouted in the air, "Come down this instant! It's not funny!"

"Come get me then, Evans!" shouted back James, making an acrobatic spectacle in the air, much to the crowd's joy. He flew a little higher, close to the roof of one of the towers and stuck the teddy bear behind one of the gargoyles. "Or maybe you chicken out?"

Lily drew her wand and pointed it in the air. The crowd, rowdy seconds before, was now dead silent, tensely waiting for what was supposed to happen.

A most appealing thought crossed Lily's mind. Maybe Potter would learn some respect if he got what he deserved. She even had a course on her lips, but at the last moment she thought better. She had to give an excellent example for her fellow younger students. And no matter how much she desired it, cursing Potter in the air in the middle of the courtyard wasn't exemplary behaviour, especially if it could end up tragically.

"Accio teddy bear!" She shouted the summoning spell instead of a course. The crowd looked almost upset; sights of disappointment could even be heard. The people wanted some action. But the spell didn't work. She looked at her wand, surprised, not knowing what was happening. Was she too weak for the spell to work at such a distance?

"Pathetic!" James laughed.

The nerve!

Not wanting to give him more satisfaction from mocking her, she ran to the castle.

"Where are you going? Running away? I knew you were lame, but a coward? Disappointing!"

She didn't give time for his words to sink into her mind; she just ran through corridors, sometimes even not making the turn and recoiling from the walls. Once she got to the stairs, she ran into a student carrying a stack of books, making them drop. The books spilt on the stairs while the student tripped and slid down to the mezzanine on their bum. She didn't have time to apologise appropriately, so the student had to settle for a half-hearted, quickly-thrown 'Sorry!'.

She didn't slow down until she reached the seventh floor. Her chest heaved as she tried to steady her breath. The sweat annoyingly prickled the back of her neck. She glanced around, realising the only way to get to James—and the teddy bear—was not through the usual castle pathways. He had stuck it behind one of the tower gargoyles, the very tower that was closed from the student's reach. She frowned when she realised she would have to take a more... unconventional route.

Her eyes darted to the nearest window. The cool wind from the high altitude brushed against her flushed cheeks, and the sight of the stone tower just meters away solidified her decision. It was reckless, yes. Dangerous, definitely. It wasn't about the teddy bear any more; if it were, she would have gone to the nearest teacher. No, she wasn't about to let James Potter win.

She pushed open the tall, creaking window and swung a leg over the sill, gripping the edge tightly. Below her, a loud cheer from the courtyard rang out, reminding her about the cheers Potter was getting at Quidditch matches.

"You're insane, Evans," someone shouted from below, voicing her exact same thoughts.

With a deep breath, she carefully reached for the narrow stone ledge running along the tower's wall. Her fingers dug into the uneven rock as she began to climb. The wind that whipped her hair and whistled into her ears made her grip unsteady. The cold stone stung her hands.

As she slowly reached the gargoyle where James had stashed her teddy bear, she sighed, relieved. She was sure she would slip if it were any higher – her arms were already exhausted and shaky.

"Got you," she whispered, "You're finally safe, little guy."

She smiled as her fingers clasped the teddy's paw and sighed with relief that blissfully washed over her. Feeling high from success, she dared to look down and immediately regretted it. Her vision started to blur and spin, making her grip on the gargoyle loosen.

Her head snapped up to James; his hazel eyes were wide, and his smirk was gone, replaced with something that looked suspiciously like panic. She might have glared at him if she wasn't busy with panicking herself.

Below, seeing what was happening just after arriving in the courtyard, Harry sprung into action.

"Accio!" He shouted, pointing his wand at Sirius' broom. He jumped on the fountain and took off, mounting the broom in the air before anyone noticed anything. Mare seconds later, he was flying straight to the collision with Lily. He yelped when she crushed against his chest, barely keeping his hold on the broom, which dangerously shivered.

When he finally managed to tame the turbulence broom, Harry adjusted Lily in his arms before he looked down at her to check if she was alright.

She was looking at him strangely, as if she was seeing him for the first time in her life. Her green eyes were wide.

"Harry…" she moaned before her eyes closed, and she went limp.

A/N: Yes, Lily's going to have a crush on Harry, but be assured, there won't be any incest. Harry won't be interested in his mother, even if she's not his mother yet. Lily's attraction could be explained by an interesting theory called genetic sexual attraction. It basically says that people are sexually attracted to those genetically similar to them, often separated at a young age or have never met. There was a case where a mother met her son years later after giving him up for adoption, not knowing him to be her son at the moment, or siblings who weren't raised as a family, not knowing about their relations, fell for each other while being grown up. So yes, in this story, Lily falls for Harry because of his personality and unconscious attraction to the genes he shares with her and James, not knowing that they're related.