Things I don't own:

1. Harry Potter

2. A racing broom

There is a Two-Letter Difference Between Obvious and Oblivious

James Potter was exhilarated. That much was obvious.

His hair was disheveled (more so than usual), sweat poured in copious amounts from every pore in his body (he was also quite smelly), his breathing was labored (as if he'd run a marathon), and he had the widest grin on his face (as if he'd won all the gold in the world).

It was obvious that he'd been on the quidditch pitch.

James Potter was also out after-hours.

He crept through Hogwarts castle under his invisibility cloak, stepping lightly and making an attempt to quiet his breath so as not to alert Mrs. Norris to his presence. When he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, she barely acknowledged his whisper of "begonia" before swinging open sleepily. He'd been hoping to steal up to his dorm quickly, but soon discovered he was not alone in the common room.

Lily Evans was asleep in front of the fire.

She was slumped on the couch, a book lying open in her lap, the contents of her bag scattered on the floor in front of her. The sound of her breathing could be heard from the portrait-hole, and James was certain that if he were to examine her more closely that she would still be holding her favorite color-change quill.

It was obvious that she'd been studying.

Lily Evans was also a light sleeper.

At the sound of the portrait-hole opening, she gave a light snort and blearily rubbed her eyes. "Who's there?" she whispered, but she yawned as she said it, so it came out sounding more like "haaaws thar." Her movement startled, the items in her lap, and they fell to the floor with a dull thud. "Oh," she said sleepily.

James stared transfixed as his crush shook her hair free of its sloppy ponytail, and then raised her arms above her head to stretch. It was one of those stretches where she strained every part of her body until the joints popped, accompanied by a jaw-cracking yawn, after which she couldn't help but collapse back onto the couch and curl up with a contented sigh. James waited a few moments before concluding that he should probably make his way up to his dorm before she woke up again, and so began to quietly walk in the direction of the staircase.

As he passed by her couch, she let out another soft sigh. Permitting himself a closer look at her sleeping form, James noticed that there were goosebumps along Lily's arms: despite her proximity to the fire, she was cold. Without a moment's hesitation, he shed his invisibility cloak and removed his outer cloak, tucking it gingerly around her body. Lily's reaction was instantaneous; her fingers feebly gripped at the cloak and she pulled it closer, inhaling deeply.

Watching as she snuggled deeper into the folds of his cloak, James picked up the invisibility cloak and put it on again. After burning the image of Lily Evans asleep on the couch into his brain forever, he turned and continued on towards the staircase.

A murmured, "Thanks, James," stopped him in his tracks.

She'd been awake the whole time.

However, it appeared as though she had no intention to get up from the couch and scold him for his late-night wandering. She seemed perfectly content to lie there with her eyes closed, her face buried in James's cloak, breathing in his scent.

"You're welcome," he whispered back. As he returned to his familiar four-poster and climbed in, pulling the hangings around him, James couldn't help but wonder what people's reactions would be when they saw Lily sleeping with his cloak in the morning.

She didn't hate him anymore. That much was obvious.

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