Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

James Potter was never particularly clever when it came to Lily Evans. With most other girls, James was witty and brilliant and eloquent, or whatever they wanted him to be, if he's telling the truth.

When he climbs in through the portrait hole after Quidditch practice, he's sweaty and out-of-breath and hoping desperately that Lily Evans (who's finally agreed to go to Hogsmeade with him, after years and years of asking) doesn't see him in this state. So, when he turns to go towards the boys' dormitory, obviously Lily is standing right in front of him with that smirk of hers. Obviously.

"I've got to say, you look fucking brill after Quidditch," that smirk of hers, itdestroys him.

"D'you know what, Evans?" he asks, not quiet and intimate and sweet like he speaks with other girls – because, well, Lily isn't like other girls.

"What, Potter?" the smirk has grown now so that it's almost just the shape of a regular smile.

"I've got to say that you look fucking brill all of the time," he's smirking now, and he's starting to believe that if there was ever a time when they've been on the same wavelength, it's now. Hey, maybe smirking will be their 'thing.'

"You're an absolute prick, Potter, I can't believe I'm going to Hogsmeade with you." (It's a full on grin now, by the way, and James looks like he could just about prance through a meadow.)

"You're still going with me, then, yeah?"

"Well James Potter can't bloody well go to Hogsmeade alone, now can he?" he likes it, this smile of hers. He's always liked it, really, but it's different when she's actually enjoying his company. "And besides –"

"Besides?"

"Besides," she lowers her voice to just above a whisper. "I quite fancy you."

"I should think so, Evans."

"My name's Lily, for fuck's sake, James." He likes it when she calls himJames, too, and he likes it when she smiles because she's pleased with him, and he likes when she talks about fancying him, and he likes it when the banter comes easy, like it always does, because he likes things to be kept interesting, and he likes that interesting and Lily Evans go hand-in-hand.

"You've got a mouth on you, haven't you?" He's not even attempting to hide his grin at this point.

"No," she keeps her voice low, leaning in and positioning her mouth to where it's nearly pressed to his ear so he can hear her above the noise of the Common Room (he could hear her from America, he would swear on it). "I've got a mouth on you."

And then her lips are not on his ear, but on his lips, and she's gone before he can kiss her back, but Lily-just-kissed-him-and-she's-still-going-with-him-to-Hogsmeade-and-maybe-they'd-end-up-together-like-he'd-always-hoped.

Maybe they'd get married in Summer and he could make her smile all the time, and maybe she could fall in love with him and he could meet her parents, and maybe she'd want a family of their own and he could make her the happiest woman in the world.

And maybe they'd argue and scream at each other before the weekend and she'd want to break it off before it even began –

But then, Lily had said it herself, hadn't she?

James Potter couldn't go to Hogsmeade alone.

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