Disclaimer: I own nothing. Except a boy called Ivan.

Yours, Ivan

James Potter reclined on one of the sofas in Head Tower's common room, his arms behind his back to use as headrests. He never once contemplated using the cushions to help him relax, instead hurling them to the ground which Lily Evans would later trip over in the mornings, spill the entire contents of her bag to the floor, and then grumble about being late to Arithmancy.

He was having his usual nap. He was accustomed to naps lately because, frankly, being Head Boy was tiring. Yes, technically Lily did most of the work, and yes, technically he should be in a Head meeting right now with a certain redhead - but who really cares about technicalities?

Tap tap.

Ignore it, he told himself. He kicked off his shoes, a foolish move as the footwear flew across the room and knocked over a lamp. Later Lily would complain at the top of her lungs and clean up after him as usual. James closed his eyes, ready for snoozing.

Tapity tap.

'Ignore it…'

Tap tapity tap tap, tap tap.

That had been rather a comical tune, James had thought.

TAP, TAP-

"Alright!" He opened his eyes and sat up. He looked around for the source of the noise and discovered an owl hovering whilst it knocked its beak against one of the common room windows.

James - rather huffy - stormed to the window and opened it. "Look, owl," he addressed the bird. "Te owlry is back that way, mate. Just take a left back at the Astronomy tower—" he started to give directions, but suddenly let off a wail as the bird flew inside, flapping his wings at his face.

As James tried to shoo the owl away from attacking his head, he finally spotted the letter attached to his leg.

"Haven't you ever heard of arriving in the Great Hall in the mornings?" he grumbled. Once the owl had calmed down, he managed to untie the letter from its leg and the owl flew off out of the window with a furious hoot.

"Sodding birds!" He shook his fist after the creature, discovering the owl had left a lovely present of excrement on his shoulder.

Letting his eyes run over the front of the letter, he found it was addressed to Lily. No happy thoughts entered his mind - typical that the letter wasn't even to him after all that.

He tossed the letter on to the nearest desk and made his way back to the sofa. However, he found himself backtracking seconds later. He picked up the letter again, curious.

A letter from her parents? James thought, examining the scrawl of the address. The handwriting looks quite manly…

He found his fingers unexpectedly make for the seal, until he stopped himself.

Don't open it. It's private. Merlin, you were trying to smell her underwear yesterday and now you're opening her letters? He put the letter back down posthaste and wrapped his hands under his folded arms. Well done. You actually have self restraint! He congratulated himself.

Almost simultaneously, his hands gripped for the letter once more. He made himself miss and toppled into the table.

Bloody hell! James screamed at himself. Just leave the letter alone!

Determinedly, he began his walk over the couch, but found his legs not obeying his brain as he ran back over the table, picking up the letter yet again.

Don't do it.

James dropped the letter to the floor and decided to go the farthest corner of the room away from it.

Open me.

James frowned. Was the letter talking to him?

Open me! Come on, you know you want to. Open my flap and see what's inside...

Well, that was rather a sexual statement made by an envelope.

"Screw it," he gave in, sprinting back over to the letter. He swiped up the letter with a grin and made no effort to stop himself ripping it open, which was pretty brainless if he wanted to seal it afterwards to make it look as if he had never looked at it.

He unfolded the parchment like a shot and started to read.

Dear Lily,

It was lovely to hear about your summer. I-

James instantly skipped ahead. Any letter with a first line of 'It was lovely to hear about your summer' would never lead to anything interesting. He tapped his foot impatiently as he skipped paragraphs, not really paying attention to what was written.

"Blah, blah, blah, my dog called Donka, blah, blah, blah," his mouth formed a large yawn, not finding the small parts of the letter he was reading particularly engaging. "Blah, blah, blah, your Aunt Muriel sounds ghastly, blah, blah, blah - yours, Ivan." He finished the letter and tossed it back on the table, unperturbed.

In the toss of the letter, James quickly registered his thoughts and caught it in a dive to the floor, his eyes wide and incomprehensible as he shoved the letter closely to his face.

Yours, Ivan.

Alright, thought James. Remain calm.

"Who the fuck is Ivan?" a voice shouted.

James jumped at the question and eventually realised it was he who had yelled. So much for remaining calm…

"Where have I heard the name 'Ivan' before?" James paced back and forth in front of the common room fire. "I haven't! Because I don't know who Ivan is! WHO IS IVAN?"

He collapsed back on the chair in a heap. He could imagine Ivan now. He was most probably some French prince (though he had a Bulgarian name, but James was never good at telling the two countries apart) with dastardly good looks; mindblowing intelligence, charm, wit; owned a horse— in fact, he probably own his own castle. His own replica Hogwarts castle, in effect!

This wasn't supposed to happen. This was The Yearwhere James was supposed to woo Lily and make her fall in love with him.! She wasn't supposed to have a secret boyfriend with a Bulgarian name who was actually French and ate caviar for breakfast, lunch, and even brunch! James had only just got Lily to be friendly with him and call him by his first name, for Merlin's sake!

"How to solve this…how to solve…" James mumbled to himself, stroking his chin in thought. He looked at the common room fire for inspiration.

Burn it.

"What?" James answered out loud to his devilish thoughts.

Burn the letter! Burn Ivan!

"No…No, that would be too evil!"

You're James Potter.

James nodded. "That is true," he agreed with himself.

Stuffing the letter back into the envelope, he kneeled by the fire and hung the letter by his forefinger and thumb above the flames hestitantly.

Drop it.

James bit his lip. "But…"

Just do it, dung brain.

Just as he was about to drop the letter, the portrait to the Head Tower opened and a girl's wail was heard with an accompanying thud.

James shot up straight, and said, not very brightly, "I wasn't burning your letter from Ivan!"

Lily appeared behind the couch from her embarrassing fall with an infuriated expression, not paying attention to what James had said.

"Have you been lobbing cushions on the floor again?" Lily held the guilty cushion she had tripped over. "You've been napping again, haven't you?" Her eyes wandered to the fallen lamp. "What have I told you about kicking off your shoes, James?" she yelled like a moody housewife.

James was about to apologize but remembered the letter that was clenched tightly in his hand. Cheeks glowing red, he said rather rudely, "Who the hell is Ivan?"

Like wildfire, Lily stopped dusting herself off from the fall and let the cushion drop to the floor. "W-what?" she murmured.

"Ivan!" James stormed towards her. He waved the letter in his tightened fist.

"You read my letter," Lily said, barely above a whisper.

"Yes," James answered her sombrely, letting her taking the letter from his hand. He watched her sit on the couch with a hand covering her mouth, looking pale as she read over the letter in question.

James tried not to get mad by the fact that she was reading it right in front of him. "So who's Ivan then, eh? Some French prince? Does he buy you countries for presents? Do you own Alaska?" He got more provoked as she ignored him. "Hey!"

Once Lily had finished reading, she looked up at James with a bemused expression. "Though it's none of your business who Ivan is, did you actually read the letter?" she asked exasperatedly.

"That's beside the point! The point is who the hell Ivan is—"

"He's my penpal from Bulgaria, alright!" Lily cut in. "But answer me this: did you read the entire letter?"

"I…er…" James was still trying to comprehend Lily's revelation that Ivan was only a friend. "Well, er, no, not all of it…"

Lily handed him back the letter. "Fourth paragraph; second line," she told him, not able to meet his eyes.

Frowning at her, James grudgingly looked down at the letter and followed with his finger until he was at the point Lily said. "Your Aunt Muriel sounds ghastly?" he read the line, confused.

"Second line, James."

He realized he'd read the third and cringed. Moving his finger up, he read, 'James is a lucky guy.'

"So you've been slagging me off to this guy Ivan, have you?" James said defensively, jumping to conclusions.

"Carry on reading," Lily mumbled, still focused at looking at the floor.

James moved his finger along. "Sorry to hear," he began reading in a patronizing tone, "that you're…" He stopped suddenly, his throat tight. "That you're…" he read again, his voice softer, "…falling in love with James Potter?" He found himself forgetting about the letter and wanting Lily to look at him. He wanted Lily to tell him this wasn't a joke. He wanted to ask her what her favourite insult was for him just in case she was a Death Eater in disguise or Sirius under Polyjuice potion.

She sniffed. "That's right! Ivan is my personal pen friend who is my agony aunt who I moan about you to!" She poked him in the chest. "Go on, then! Rub it in my face!"

James had never looked so openmouthed in his life. "I was never going to rub it in your face, Lily. I'm pretty much speechless at the moment."

"Well, er, let's just forget about it, then!" Lily yelled, fairly hysterical. She was pretty aware she was shouting but it seemed as if she couldn't stop. "Good night!" She kicked off on her heel and made her way towards her dorm, but James stopped her in a flash, holding on to her arm gently.

"Lily…"

She whipped round. "What?" she whispered, her lip quivering.

"If you want to tell me something, don't tell Ivan. In fact, don't tell anyone other than me, just… just tell me. Okay?"

Silence stretched as they stared at one another, until at long last Lily nodded, and James thought for a second as she rose on her tiptoes and placed a hand on his shoulder that she was going to kiss him. Instead, she merely whispered in his ear, "In due time," and with a warm smile and a pat on the back, escaped to her dormitory.

Six months later, a puzzled Bulgarian boy stared at the letter from his penpal, Lily Evans, who had promptly told him that she couldn't write to him any more due to her boyfriend James Potter's jealousy.