Just a cutesy little one-shot I wrote about Lily and James. Not one of my best works, but I was bored, so I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

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James Potter had quite a nice life.

In his seventh year at Hogwarts, he had good grades, great friends, was Head Boy, and Captain of his quidditch team. He was good looking, popular, and after several years of perseverance, had managed to get a date with Lily Evans (i.e., me). Not only that, but he'd made it through that date (and several more) without doing anything remotely stupid, so he'd managed to make me his girlfriend as well. He would be quite perfect, actually, if he wasn't such a klutz.

That's right. James Potter was easily the clumsiest person I'd ever met.

James has always had a slightly underfed look about him. He's kind of long and skinny, although he's not terribly tall like Sirius (who I'm sure is still thankful for that growth spurt he got in third year). James also has fairly large feet and hands.

Not that I'm complaining.

It is because of his extreme lack of coordination, of course, that we ever got together in the first place.

James tried to change. He really did. He tried to be more graceful, or at the very least able to stay on his feet. Sirius always made fun of him for it, too. I think it used to hurt his feelings, but later he was able to laugh at himself. I think he gave up on trying not to be a klutz around the same time he gave up trying to keep his hair down. That, too, was a lost cause.

We met way back in first year. We were eleven and not even remotely interested in each other. At least, I wasn't really interested in him. I'd seen him and his friends in the common room, usually goofing off or causing mayhem. He'd probably seen me in classes, too. My hair (which James is constantly telling me he loves) is as bright red as hair comes, when it's not from a bottle, so I'm kind of hard to miss. My hair was always a constant source of embarrassment for me: Madame Pomfrey gave me pepper up potion in fourth year, and Sirius asked if my head had caught on fire.

I really wasn't fond of Sirius back then.

Back to the point. We met in first year. I believe it was November. I was in the library, working on an essay. He walked into the library, quite confidently, if I remember correctly, and proceeded to trip over his own feet.

That's right. There was absolutely nothing on the ground that he could have tripped over. Just himself.

And, of course, he fell right into me, causing me to spill ink all over my nearly finished essay.

Needless to say, I was very, very angry.

"I'm sorry!" he said, trying to pick up the ink bottle, parchment, and books that had been knocked over.

"That's okay," I said. It really wasn't, but I didn't tell him that.

After helping me clean up (and receiving a long lecture from Madame Pince, the ancient librarian), he said, "By the way, I'm James Potter."

He offered me his hand, which I took warily. "Lily Evans."

"Nice to meet you. Sorry about your essay."

The rest of the conversation went much like that. The amazing feeling of deja vu overcame me when, six years later, something very similar happened.

We were in our seventh year, and although I'd disliked him for the past few years (there was an incident at the end of second year involving an "accident" in potions), we were on friendly terms. I was Head Girl, he was Head Boy (to this day, not a single soul knows why), we were calling each other by our first names, and had even had a few polite conversations. Although he'd asked me out a few times in fifth and sixth year, he had stopped. I'd found myself liking James Potter (and by liking, I mean not despising).

It was November again. I was in the library, working on an essay again. This time he was running at a breakneck speed, so it really shouldn't have been surprising when he once again tripped over his own feet and fell into me.

"James!" I shouted, and was promptly shushed by the librarian. I whispered, "James, what are you doing?"

"I was looking for you," he said, acting as if he hadn't just knocked over all of my things. He began picking everything up, and realized that (once again) ink had spilled all over my finished essay. "Sorry about that."

"That's okay," I said, this time meaning it. With a flick of my wand, the ink stains were gone, and my essay looked just as neat as it had before Hurricane James had hit.

"Nice spell."

"Yeah, well it becomes really necessary with people like you around," I said, offering him a hand up from the floor. He took it, although I'm sure I did very little in helping to lift him up. "What did you need me for?"

James however, didn't answer me. He was far too busy laughing. I couldn't imagine why the Head Boy of Hogwarts was laughing like a complete lunatic in the middle of the library for no apparent reason, but he was.

"James? James, stop laughing!" He finally did, and I asked, "What on earth is so funny?"

"Don't you remember? This is exactly how we met six years ago."

I stopped to think, and when I realized he was right, I started laughing too. It really wasn't that funny, but I laughed nonetheless.

As James and I were walking out of the library (Madame Pince was not very fond of all that laughter), he said, "When I saw you that day, I remember thinking you were the prettiest girl I'd ever seen."

I was probably blushing when he said that.

"You know, I still think that."

Okay, by that point I was definitely blushing. "You do?"

"Yeah." I have to admit, I was impressed by the amount of confidence with which he said that. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Only, to him, it was.

I don't remember what we talked about next, but somehow the conversation brought us out to the grounds, around the lake, along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and all the way back up to the Gryffindor common room. He was incredibly easy to talk to, and I knew he was listening the whole time. You could tell, because he looked directly in your eyes when you spoke.

And he didn't even trip once.

That night led to many more like it. We could spend hours talking to each other about absolutely nothing and be perfectly content with that. So finally, right around Christmas break, James came up to me in the common room and said, "Lily, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," I said, putting my book down.

He sat down and took a deep breath before finally saying, "Lily, will you go out with me?"

I was a bit surprised. Not only because it had been more than six months since the last time he'd asked me out, but because of my immediate response of, "I'd love to."

"Really?"

"Yes."

That's when James and I started dating. And somehow, I fell completely in love with him, in spite of his occasional arrogance, and pride, and clumsiness.

So when, two years later, he asked me to marry him, I said yes, of course.

As I was getting ready for the ceremony, Sirius came in and asked if I was ready.

"Almost," I told him. "Oh! Would you give this to James for me? Tell him it's about when we walk down the aisle together."

"No problem," he said, taking the slip of parchment from me. "See you in a few minutes."

I have to admit, I was really nervous. What if something were to go wrong? But I had no reason to worry. The wedding was just as I'd imagined it. As James and I walked out together, and I could see how concentrated he was on staying balanced. Once we were outside he asked, "How'd I do?"

I smiled at him. "Perfectly."

"I got your note," he said, pulling out the little paper I'd sent him. On it were only two words:

Don't Trip.

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A/N: Hope you liked it. You can review if you want, and I'm assuming you all know how.

By the way...

Disclaimer: Nothing you read is mine, except for the basic idea. The characters and such don't belong to me.