You Called Me Lily by lilymione1203

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 7
Published: 29/09/2009
Last Updated: 29/09/2009
Status: Completed

Written in response to the wildly popular “She Looked at Me.” Not a sequel, but an alternate
version of a really cute one-shot. Originally titled ‘He Looked at Me’, but I decided against it
and the latter is more fitting. Lily’s pov, please read and review!!!!!!!! :- )




1. One-Shot
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A/N: Written in response to the wildly popular “She Looked at Me.” Not a sequel, but an
alternate version of a really cute one-shot. Originally titled ‘He Looked at Me’, but I decided
against it and the latter is more fitting. Lily’s pov, please read and review!!!!!!!! :- )

You Called Me Lily

He looked at me.

Granted, I catch him looking at me every day, but this time it was different. It wasn’t a cocky
look or an ‘I’m going to get you in to bed with me’ look; it was a look of…sweetness.

I took my quill and brushed it against my cheek, in what I hoped was a seductive manner, and set
my gaze sharply to the left, catching just a glimpse of dark, disheveled hair. Inclining my head
ever-so-slightly in his direction, I caught his eye and quickly turned away, feeling the heat rise
rapidly to my cheeks.

Oh, curse this crimson hair of mine. The faintest blush and my complexion compares to that of a
tomato. When blondes and brunettes blush they look quite dazzling, a cute tinge of rose that
complements their dainty features, off-setting the auspiciously neutral color of their hair.

Not *me*. Since when does red go with anything? We can’t wear pink, or any pastel for that
matter, and we burn to a crisp in the sun, freckles blossoming with every ray of ultraviolet
radiation. (If I had said the latter two words to any of the people in this room they would’ve
looked at me as if I’d grown two heads, which sadly would’ve been more normal than saying the words
in the first place).

At any rate, I finally managed to conceal my flush and continued scribbling on my parchment,
trying to soak in every word spewing from McGonagall’s mouth. But it was just so *hard* to
concentrate when a pair of deliciously hazel eyes were searing into the back of your head, causing
your blush to make an ardent reappearance.

‘Deliciously’ hazel? I did *not* just think that, especially when they belong to an
incredibly arrogant prat by the name of *James Potter.* Oh, how I despise him. He struts
around the place like a rooster, ruffling his jet-black feathers every other minute of the day.
Winking at me like the cheeky little wanker that he is.

Then why do I care so much that he’s watching me?

I don’t know *how* he came to be Head Boy, going ‘round hexing Slytherins under every
breath and snatching that stupid snitch of his that whizzes all over the corridors. His juvenile
posse has been the bane of my existence, electing me the target of eighty-four percent of their
pranks, give or take a fraction. Every morning at the breakfast table I can expect to find a dragon
bogey in my eggs or fizzing whizbees in my pumpkin juice.

And *everything* is always ‘Evans.’ *Evans* this and *Evans* that. I *have*
a first name you know. I’m not merely a surname walking around without a predecessor, doomed to
roam the earth as simply *Evans.* I’m not *Cher* you know. Again, another muggle
reference only I would get. I’m surprised I haven’t been stoned to death as an outcast, finishing
my studies as the fifth ghost of Hogwarts. Heaven forbid I solve a math problem, then I’d really be
in for it.

Oh, except for *Myrtle,* but we won’t get in to that.

And Professor Binns, but he doesn’t really count…

Oh, whatever, I’d be a ghost- you get the point!

At that moment I felt a distinct pain radiating from beneath my ribcage, causing me to snap out
of my recession. Apparently Alice, sitting promptly to my right, had nudged me in the ribs (sixteen
times I later learned- is that possible? Can someone *really* have an elbow stabbed in their
sternum sixteen times before realizing it? I think she’s exaggerating, but that’s another story
entirely…).

Anyway, if Potter wasn’t looking at me before, he certainly was now- as was the rest of the
N.E.W.T. level transfiguration class. Alice looked at me with bulging blue eyes, rapidly darting
back and forth between my green ones and her parchment. What was *that* supposed to mean?

“*Miss* Evans (*see,* Evans *again.* *Does no one know I have a name???)* I
will not repeat it again. Would you kindly answer my question?”

My jade green eyes widened in terror as I snapped my head towards Alice, searching her plump
face for an answer. She merely shrugged at me, raising her brows and lifting the corner of her
mouth in an apologetic manner, quickly returning her attention back to the front of the room.

What a lot of help you are! I’ve saved your arse loads of times and you can’t bail me out once?
Oh, Frank is going to hear about this…

“Miss Evans, we’re waiting…” McGonagall said in the sharpest of tones. She looked at me with
stone cold eyes, her arms crossed in impatience.

“I can help her out, professor. You see, the box turtle, the majestic creature that it is, has
only sixteen squares on the apex of its shell, whereas the snapping turtle, in all its swampy
glory, has twenty-two. Isn’t that right, *Evans.**”*

I could’ve killed him. Right then and there. If Alice hadn’t had a death grip on my wand arm he
would’ve been toast in an instant. Then I’d *feed* him to that glorified swampy snapping
turtle.

“Well, *Potter,* I’m sorry to inform you that that is, indeed, incorrect. The *wood*
turtle has sixteen squares, ideal for transforming into tea kettles, *not* the majestic box-as
you so delicately put it.”

“No, *Evans,* I’m fairly certain green turtles are ideal for tea kettle transformations,
the box turtle more adept for plates and silverware.”

“I beg to differ! Leatherback turtles are best suited for forks and knives and spoons,
considering they don’t even have a shell at ALL, *Potter.”*

“Actually, the-“

“ENOUGH!! That is quite enough from *both* of you. *Mister* Potter and *Miss*
Evans can finish their invigorating turtle discussion after class, in *detention,* might I
add. As for the rest of you-“

At this point the bell rang for dismissal and a rather worn-looking professor threw her hands up
in exasperation, releasing an audible groan of frustration.

“Everyone out!” she barked, mechanically pointing at the door. “*Not* you two,” she added
as she stared me straight in the eye, looking rather vulture-like in my opinion.

I can’t believe she gave me a detention. *Me!* Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry. What was she *thinking?* Granted, I wasn’t paying the least bit of attention,
but still. It’s all *Potter’s* fault. Correcting me and using my surname like that. He knows
exactly how to push my buttons, and I think he *enjoys* it.

“Now, I want the pair of you to scrub these tea kettles lining the wall; the fourth years will
be arriving to turn them into-” she pursed her lips and rolled her eyes, letting out a deep sigh,
“*turtles…* in an hour. Not a *hint* of magic, do you understand?”

We both nodded our heads- I *assumed* Potter nodded because I was still refusing to look at
him, but she left muttering something like ‘teenage angst’ under breath, so I guessed he
articulated that he understood. How anything gets through that thick head of his is beyond me.

I turned without a word and daintily picked up a filth ridden kettle, covered in years of slime
and ooze. As many detentions as Potter and his *marauders* have gotten you’d think these
things would already be spotless. I held it between my thumb and forefinger, holding it as far away
from my body as I possibly could. How could a tea kettle stink?

I heard a chuckling voice behind me; apparently I was being *watched* again by the Potter
prat. I give one slinky look back in seven years’ time and this is what it gets me?

“You know you don’t have to act so high and mighty all the time. I could’ve answered that
question myself you know.”

“Ha! You’re one to talk- and I was doing you a favor today, Evans. If anything you should be
grateful.”

“Grateful for *what?* You landing me in detention?”

“Well if that pretty little mouth of yours would just stay shut sometimes we wouldn’t have a
problem now, would we?”

“You insufferable prat! McGonagall didn’t call on *you* to answer, no one asked for your
input on the matter.”

“You didn’t even know what the matter *was!* Your mind was as far from here as
Azkaban-“

“How would *you* know? You should have been paying attention to the lesson and not the back
of my head-“

“Well, Lily, I was sure paying attention to it far better than *you* were, consideri-“

“What did you call me?”

“What? I didn’t call you anything, I said, ‘I was sur-“

“No, you called me Lily…”

“Well that *is* your name, isn’t it? I’ve only been scribbling it on the corners of my
parchment for four years now and th- mmmmmmph”

But he didn’t have time to finish. I was across the room in a flash, covering his mouth with
mine. Why did I do it, who knows? I just did. Impulse really isn’t in my vocabulary, but neither
has been kissing James Potter in a classroom full of dirty tea kettles.

We stayed like that for quite some time, his warm lips sending chills up and down my spine with
every passing moment. I reveled in the sweetness of the kiss, the pure delight of his tongue
tangling with mine. I wrapped my hands around his loosened tie, pulling him closer to my wanting
mouth. I felt his hands delicately trace the curves of my back, stopping finally to intertwine his
fingers in my mane of strawberry hair.

After what seemed like hours we finally came to, my face surely taking on its now frequent
‘tomato-like’ appearance. He grinned at me that famous Potter grin, and softly swept a crimson curl
hanging above my brow, gently tucking it behind my ear. My green eyes crinkled and, for the very
first time, I gave him a genuine happy smile.

“Alright, Lily?” he said with a wink, taking my hand in his.

I blushed at this and turned away, glancing back with twinkling eyes, “You can call me
Evans.”

A/N: Just a ficlet I wrote to take a break from my chapter fic, “Strangers in the Night.” I like
doing one-shots better than anything else : ) Anyway, hope you liked it!!! Please review, lemme
know what you think!! <3



