". . . Then he fell across the maiden's body, and died."

With that, James Potter snapped the book shut. He laid it on the floor among a pile of seventh-year textbooks and his jar of ink. He moved the ink away when he noticed that his foot was dangerously close to it. Satisfied, he straightened himself and looked back to Lily Evans, who was staring at him with her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open in disgust.

"That," she said, "is one of the most repulsive stories I have ever heard."

James shifted his feet and gripped the armrest very tightly. It was a miracle he wasn't gulping. This year he had put a lot of effort into changing, and while she'd still rejected his offers to go out on a date, she did consent to helping him with his homework (which, to him, was as good as a date). During their time together, they'd gotten a little sidetracked and started talking. Everything had been going smoothly until they had gotten to the subject of bedtime stories, prompting him to get his copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard and read 'The Warlock's Hairy Heart' aloud. But now that he'd finished, Lily looked quite sick.

Crap. Crap crap crap CRAP, he thought. He seriously shouldn't have picked that one, what made him think that he should? She hated it . . . oh no, what if she thought he was disgusting?

As stupid as it sounded, he couldn't help but fear the possibility. He would need to read a different story, one that would surely win her over.

"You're absolutely right," said James quickly. "I'm sorry for reading it, it's terrible. How about hearing something else? 'The Fountain of Fair Fortune's' good." Come to think of it, why hadn't he just read that in the first place? Lots of girls loved that one.

Lily shook her head, "I think we should get back to our homework."

"Come on, you haven't even given it a chance!"

"I gave the last one a chance and it turned out to be even more outlandish than the stuff I grew up with." The speed of her writing picked up drastically.

Part of what she said caught his attention. "Wait, stuff you grew up with? Do you mean. . . do you mean that there are Muggle bedtime stories?"

"Yes." When James could only stare at her, she continued, "What? It's not as if I grew up with wizarding fairy tales."

Muggle bedtime stories. . . Muggle bedtime stories . . . the concept was simple, so why was it so hard for him to wrap his head around it?

At last he recovered from his shock. "Are there any good ones?"

The scratching of her quill on parchment suddenly came to a halt. The common room was dead silent save the crackling of the fire that illuminated her face in the color of dawn.

James inwardly grinned. That got her.

"Well," said Lily, "I suppose there's one that's decent."

"And that is?" he prompted.

"Beauty and the Beast."

She turned her attention back to her homework, obviously attempting to focus. James continued to look at her. Her lips tightened and she shoved out an exhale. "Oh, what now?"

"How does it go?" he said.

"Pardon?"

"How does it go? Come on, you can't just leave me hanging like that."

Lily's face shifted and twisted, as if unable to decide on an expression. Then she sighed and dropped her quill.

"I can't remember the exact thing, but . . . Once upon a time, there lived a merchant with three daughters. Two of them were selfish and vain while the youngest, named Beauty—"

"Wait, so he named his daughter Beauty?" James said, trying not to laugh.

"For goodness sake, it's a fairy tale! There's a lot of stuff that doesn't make sense. Now do you promise not to interrupt me again?"

"All right. I solemnly swear that I will not interrupt you."

"Thank you. Anyways, her name was Beauty, and she was kind and purehearted, unlike her older sisters.

"One day their father set off on a journey, but not before asking each of his daughters what gifts they would like him to bring home. The older girls asked for dresses, jewelry, the works, while Beauty only wanted a rose, as they didn't grow where they lived.

"While he was on his journey, he was able to find things for the older two, but not a rose for Beauty. Finally he set off home, but in the process he got lost in a huge forest. Tired, cold, hungry and seeking shelter from a storm, he stumbled upon a castle in the forest and entered."

A castle? In a forest? That he somehow didn't notice before? Really? James was tempted to bring this to Lily's attention, but then remembered his promise and subsequently abandoned the idea.

"Inside, the merchant found lavish food and drink on the table and partook of it. As the night wore on, it was obvious that an unseen master was providing for him. He went to sleep while silently thanking him for his hospitality and woke up the next morning with the intent to return to his daughters.

"Just as he was saddling his horse, he couldn't help but notice a rosebush. Remembering his promise to Beauty, he picked a single rose—and that's when a hideous beast jumped out at him and frightened the merchant.

"But as it turned out, the beast was actually the master of the castle. The roses were his most valuable possessions—"

Well, isn't that manly. James snickered to himself, and then his stomach squirmed under the weight of Lily's glare. "Sorry. Go on."

"As I was saying, the roses were his most valuable possessions, and he was quite angry with the merchant for trying to take it after he had been so kind to him. For this, he was to die. But the merchant begged and pleaded, saying that he'd only been picking it as a gift for his daughter. The beast allowed the merchant to live and give the rose to Beauty, but only under the condition that he came back afterward and stayed at the castle forever. Knowing that he was already pushing luck, the merchant agreed to the terms.

"The merchant went back and gave his daughters the presents. Beauty, sensing something was wrong, found out about everything that had happened. That's when she decided to go live with the beast in her father's place.

"Needless to say, the beast was surprised when he saw her arrive instead of the merchant. He took her in graciously and treated her well, being chivalrous and giving her fine clothing. At first Beauty was very sad and stayed away from the beast as much as possible, given his ugly appearance. But bit by bit, as the days went by, she got used to his appearance and had nice conversations with him. As she got to know him, she found that she actually enjoyed his company—and the beast enjoyed hers. Then, one night, the beast asked Beauty to marry him. But she refused.

"Eventually Beauty became very homesick and asked the beast if she could see her family. The beast agreed to let her visit, but only for a week. She agreed, and so she departed with an enchanted mirror that would allow her to see what was going on at the beast's castle.

"The reunion with her family was a happy one. But then Beauty lost track of time and, before she knew it, a week had passed. She felt very guilty for breaking her promise to the beast and looked into the mirror to see how he was doing—and saw the beast lying down on the ground, dying."

James's breathing abruptly hitched.

Stop it, he told himself. It's a fictional character. In a bedtime story. Of course everything's going to be okay.

But still. . .

"Beauty left her family and rushed to the beast's castle as fast as she could. When she got there, sure enough, the beast was dying of heartbreak. She knelt by his side, confessed that she loved him and began to cry. And that's when it happened.

"A light began to surround the beast, and before she knew it, not only was the beast very much alive and well, but he had also transformed into a prince."

His eyes grew slightly. So all of that time, and there had been something hidden under that grisly appearance.

"The newfound prince explained that he had been cursed by a witch after he had refused to let her in from the rain. The only way that the curse could be broken was if he found true love—which Beauty had given to him. He and Beauty were shortly married, and, of course, they lived happily ever after."

James was silent, taking a moment to let it all sink in. He honestly hadn't expected the story to be that good. There was just something about it he really liked . . . something about both the beast and Beauty . . . what was it?

"There you have it," Lily said. She relaxed, sinking deeper into the couch now that she had finished. "I guess it's really far-fetched—"

"Oh no, I liked it," he said. "I thought the beast turning into a prince was a nice twist."

"That's not really a twist."

"Not for you. You said you grew up with it."

Lily shrugged. "That's true."

There was another pause, in which Lily turned back to her homework again. But not James. He could only look at her, removing his gaze every once in a while as to not get caught. He watched as she tucked a bit of her fiery red hair behind her ear, analyzed her perfect face and noticed the way her eyes were scouring her book.

Those eyes . . . oh man, those green eyes. They were the most beautiful things he'd ever seen—no, she was the most beautiful person he'd seen, inside and out.

Then he realized why he liked the tale of Beauty and the Beast so much.

"I wonder," James said slowly, "why didn't Beauty marry the beast the first time he asked?"

"Marriage is a big step," Lily said, not looking up. "And it was simply not one that she was ready to make with him."

"But she loved the beast, didn't she?"

"Not straightaway. The first proposal was at least a week before her confession. The beast probably still had a ways to go when it came to that."

"I don't think so." James scooted to the right, just a little bit closer to Lily. "I mean, he'd done a lot already. He was kind to her, gave her a lot of awesome stuff and proved himself courteous . . . what more could she have asked for?"

Lily opened her mouth only to wind up hesitating. "Well. . ."

"Was she really that put off by first appearances?"

"I doubt she was put off by his appearance—"

"What else could she have been put off by?"

Lily's lips became as thin as a sheet of paper as she brought her eyes up to meet his hazel ones at last. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it was the way the beast was ready to kill her father, or the way he ended up tearing her apart from her family—"

"It was her choice to go. I think the beast admired her for that, and then came to love Beauty just for the person she was."

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding like a drum. "So just imagine how much it meant to him when she finally decided to get to know him in turn." His throat tightened. "And . . . just imagine . . . ho-how happy it made him when she decided to do homework with him."

Lily didn't say anything.

He took that as a prompt to continue, and before he knew it, the words began to spill out like a rapid, uncontrollable waterfall. "Look, I know that the beast really didn't make a good first impression with his random hexing and his showing off and his arrogance—"

"And the way he frequently bullied her childhood friend."

James winced. "Yes. And that. But then he became Head Boy along with his crush and saw that it was about time he took a word of advice from Moony—to, you know, begin shaping up. He's stopped his hexing, his showing off and his arrogance . . . well, okay, he's still working on that."

He closed his eyes and put his hands on his lap. Great, now he was making a fool of himself by using the fairy tale as a metaphor, wasn't he? Lily was just seeing that as another attempt to win her over . . . he shouldn't have done that . . . she was sick of him annoying her; he really ought to have taken that into consideration—

Something soft, smooth, and tepid rested on his hands.

James allowed himself to reopen his eyes and saw Lily's hand on his. He followed it up to her slender ivory arm, crossing the distance between the couch and his armchair, skimming over her Gryffindor robes and finally found himself meeting her green pools—and, much to his surprise, a smile.

He could count the amount of times she'd actually smiled at him on one hand.

"I've noticed," she said. "I have for a while. And so far, I think you're doing a great job."

Was . . . was she for real?

She was. He could feel it.

Lily retracted her hand. "Also. . ." her cheeks became rosy, "I'm sorry. I should have told you that you were doing a good job."

James lifted his eyebrows. She was apologizing for that? Compared to all of the things he had done? "Erm—it's okay."

She stole a glance at the bulletin board, then back to him. Bulletin board, him. Bulletin board, then her eyes settled on him for the final time. She took a deep breath. "Um. . . there's a trip to Hogsmeade next week."

"Yeah, I know. What of it?"

"Well, I was sort of wondering . . . would you—see, here's the thing. . . I kind of want to . . . oh boy, how do I say this?"

James's eyes became the size of plates. Wait . . . was she seriously . . . the idea was so grand, so large and high, that it was hard to wrap his mind around.

But somehow he was able to voice it. "Lily Evans, are you actually trying to ask me out?" Her. Asking him. Out on a date.

Lily's cheeks, once the color of a rose, were now the same shade of her hair. "Well. . ." she cleared her throat. "Well, if you happen to insist on putting it that way, then yes, James Potter, I am asking you out."

He felt a flare of happiness erupt from the pit of his stomach. He wanted to sprint up to the boy's dormitory, tell Sirius and Remus and Peter what had just happened, tell that to the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, to the teachers, to the heavens, that at last she trusted him, that all of his efforts had added up to something—

But no. He wasn't going to do that.

James found himself dipping his head briskly. "Sure. That sounds like it would be wonderful."

And wonderful it was.