Disclaimer: I don't own too much, you know what I do and don't. MAJOR THANKS to ~sakura, who did the editing! And here you go

*I had no choice

but to hear you

You stated your case

time and again

I thought about it....*

Lily loved the new device that her friends, Sirius and Remus, had given

her. It was a Potter & Potter product, a Magic Air Waves device, that

broadcast songs from the future, Muggle or not. There was this really

pretty song by a future artist, Alanis Morisette, that perfectly described a certain person Lily knew.

*You treat me like

I'm a princess

I'm not used to

liking that

You ask how my day was....*

That was James, all right. She liked to listen to the song during

study hall, which was when all of her fellow fifth years were in boring

classes, like Divination and Muggle Studies. Lily only took one extra

class: Care of Magical Creatures.

*You've already won me over

In spite of me*

Lily had never gotten along really well with James Potter. The pair of

them were always playing pranks on each other, and Lily had a knack for

performing the longest and most well-performed speeches and insults

Hogwarts had ever seen.

Potter was cute, if you liked the scrawny, messy-haired, playful-brown-eyes type. Tall, dark, and handsome. And he was smart, as even Lily, the school prefect, had to admit. He was also a major troublemaker, who like to turn Snape's hair scarlet and gold directly before a Quidditch

match, ensuring "that he was a Gryffindor supporter." Or so his excuse was. That was always good for a laugh, as Snape hadn't yet learned the counter-charm.

*And don't be alarmed if I fall

head over feet*

Every girl from the third year to sixth year had dated James Potter, even including the feather-brained Bertha Jorkins.

*And don't be surprised if I love you

for all that you are

I couldn't help it—

It's all your fault....*

Every single week, without fail, an owl would flutter down to James's breakfast plate, the worst of all possible letters tied to its leg. Worse even than a Howler. This letter was sealed in a black envelope, and when you opened it, it was charmed to whisper the name of your relative that had died. No one ever explained to Lily why the Potters were always getting killed, but Sirius and Remus would join James in a moment of silence, and the entire Gryffindor table would fall silent as well. Then James would burn the Black Letter, right there at the table, with flames from his wand. The expression on his face was always eluding, unreadable.

Lily was constantly frustrated with James, who was teaching her to

become a better Chaser in exchange for help with his Charms homework. He

always caught Lily off guard. He was spontaneous. She never knew what he

was going to say next.

Lily didn't hate James, as some thought. Their relationship had just

always been a bit strained, and they weren't tight, like Lily and Remus

and Sirius. James just....annoyed her. Not deeply, but in that childish

way, so irritating and yet so lovable.

Recently, James and Lily had reached an unspoken agreement: under no

condition would they speak to one another. Not many people knew the

details. Remus didn't know, the nosy, Slytherin seventh-year Rita Skeeter

didn't know, and thank God Snape didn't know. Even Sirius had no

clue, though Lord knows he tried to wrangle it out of both of them.

* * *

One sunny afternoon, Lily was arranging her outfit for a Hogsmeade

visit later that day. It was comprised of a long, cream-white skirt, made

of impossibly soft material (her friends suspected her of charming it),

a pale, olive green sweater that brought out the emerald in her eyes,

and a thin jacket for protection against the cool autumn air. Lily

dressed neatly, pinned her hair up into a complicated updo, and slipped a

small bag of gold into her skirt pocket, as her candy supply was running

low.

Walking into the Three Broomsticks, Lily found a seat between Sirius

and Remus, relieved that James wasn't present. Unfortunately, he turned

up moments after she had settled into her chair, with Peter trailing

faithfully behind him.

*Your love is thick

and it swallowed me whole*

James and Lily sipped their butterbeers silently, avoiding each other's

eyes, while, in anticipation of a good time, all of the Gryffindor

fifth years instantly flocked around their table. Amid the chattering and

laughing, Madam Rosmerta walked over to the table with a letter from

Lily's mother. It was sealed in a black envelope.

While the messenger owl awaited Lily's response by the door, she tore

open the letter with trembling fingers. The throngs of people

surrounding their table were deathly silent. James's mute, comforting smile

made the realization of what the black letter meant hit her all the

harder.

*You're so much braver

than I give you credit for....*

Lily's father had died.

Like every week in the Great Hall, there was a moment of silence.

Several of Lily's closest girlfriends put a comforting hand on her

shoulder. Lily wasn't aware of them—all she felt was the burning of hot tears.

Sirius and Remus had no idea what to do, or say. They glanced over at

James expectantly, but were disappointed. The only person who could

comfort Lily—who really understood how she felt— refused to speak to her.

* * *

Gradually, the pain began to subside. Life at Hogwarts returned to

normal. Just a few short months later, James and Lily were once again at

each other's throats. Professor McGonagall's in-tray was piled high

with notes complaining about the two prefects, and one of them read as

follows:

Minerva:

Now, I know that James Potter and Lily Evans are the "pride of

Hogwarts," according to Dumbledore. But I think this record of my afternoon

Charms class must be taken into consideration as well.

9:00—James turns Lily's hair pink

9:02—Lily retaliates by turning James's hair green and silver

(Slytherin colors)

9:05—All hair is restored to its natural color

9:10—Lily discovers that sucking on her quill will produce a mouthful

of purple ink

9:13—When James attempts to speak, nothing but orange bubbles issue

from his mouth

9:24—Lily's now bright blue hair is adorned with yellow polka-dots

9:25—James's hair is replaced by a Slytherin flag

9:27—Lily's blue and yellow hair becomes a banner, reading, "I love

Severus Snape"

9:35—James's every other orange bubble is punctuated by a belch

9:40—"I love Severus Snape" is replaced by "I love James Potter"

9:45—James is sent to the hospital wing with a black eye, a Slytherin

flag for hair, and trailing belching orange bubbles. Ms. Evans joins

him, wanting to be rid of her "I love James Potter" pink and purple hair.

I really would have taken away points from Gryffindor, but James's

progress in color charms was very encouraging, and Lily's

orange-belching-bubble charm was a sight to behold. I tried to point this out to my

class, but they were too busy crowding around Sirius Black, who had tried

to intervene and emerged with numerous boils on his face and arms.

—Professor Flitwick

"What on earth compelled you to start that?" Lily Evans screamed at

James Potter, as he lay in the hospital bed beside hers. "Why are you so

mad at me?"

She waited expectantly, but her only response was a belching bubble.

"Oh, yeah." She waved her wand in James's direction, and heated words

spilled out.

"Mad at you? Why are *you* mad at *me*? You didn't even come to talk

to me when...er...you got that black letter. Instead, you went to

Peter, of all people! And—" James hesitated, as if he thought he might be

going to far, "—and you couldn't even answer a simple question!"

"Well, excuse me, but that question was just a bit personal! You

thought I would be able to answer straight out? What is your problem?"

"My problem?!? *You're* the one with a problem. Sheesh, I never knew

the girl I fell in love with would play hard-to-get! You can't answer a

simple yes or a simple no, or even a simple maybe?! You want to just

keep me wondering, eh? I knew you were a control freak before, but...."

"I'm not a control freak! And I don't hate you, I just—" Lily stopped

pulling out her blue and yellow hair. "Wait, did you just say—?"

"You know what your problem is? You hate me because you can't control

me. You can't predict me. You don't have control over anything about me.

You were able to control your family life, your schoolwork, Sirius and

Remus, and all of Hogwarts. You have them all under your spell, but you

can't take control of the person I am. I am what I am and that's why

you hate me.

"When your father died it wasn't just hard on you because you lost him,

it was even worse because you were no longer in total control. You

couldn't bring him back. And now, you look at me and discover I'm not

something that you can control either. And I never will be. So deal with

it."

Lily just sat there, speechless, as James, who realized what he had

just said, tore from the room. He ran down a random corridor, not quite

knowing where he was going. His only thought was to get as far away

from Lily as possible, so it was a bit of a surprise when he found himself

skidding to a halt in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Codswallop," he panted, and the portrait swung forward to admit him.

James climbed through, spinning his wand aboved his head and muttering

a counter-charm. His hair was instantly restored to normal. He

plopped down into a chair in the empty common room, and ran his mind over the

events that had just transpired. Man, Lily Evans was something out of

his world. As his American uncle had once put it, true love was a

reach-for-the-stars, over-the-moon, world-series kind of thing. And now

that he was in love, James understood what he had meant.

*And don't be surprised if I love you

for all that you are

I couldn't help it

it's all your fault*

Meanwhile, Lily was pacing in the astronomy tower, too preoccupied to

even correct her "I love James Potter" hair. Control freak? Her? Yeah,

right. Okay, okay, maybe she was a little bit controlling. Okay, maybe a

lot. And she *had* said once that she didn't like the fact the James

was unpredictable....

*You are the bearer

of unconditional things

You held your breath

and the door for me*

Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, James's head was in his hands.

*Okay. I admit it. I blew up. When Sirius started those rumors about me

liking her, I panicked. And now she probably hates me, because she

finally knows. I love her.*

* * *

Three months later, a spring picnic was organized, and many couples

were looking forward to the occasion. The day of the picnic was

beautiful. The Hogwarts gardens were blooming magnificently, and the scent of

flowers and freshly mowed-grass drifted pleasantly across the grounds.

Spread across the grassy bank of the Lake were soft, purple chenille

blankets, with small, glowing lanterns surrounding them. House-elves were

running about, taking meal orders. Couples were spread across the

blankets, chattering happily, some with intertwined hands.

Lily was looking down on them from her dormitory window. She had been

debating with herself for the past half hour about whether to go or

not, and now she finally made her decision. She dressed quickly in the

outfit she had worn the day her Black Letter had come, and as she hurried

down the stairs and into the common room, she just caught a glimpse of

James climbing through the portrait hole in front of her. Apparently

he too had just made up his mind.

They made their way down to the lake, Lily walking a careful distance

behind James. When they reached the picnic, there were no blankets

left, and so Lily watched as James climbed up into an empty tree, a tall

one with thick branches.

James, perched in the tree, looked down at his many admirers. He

called to some, and smiled down at them, but one face further back stood out

particularly. It was a very pretty face, surrounded by long, dark red

hair that was fluttering gently in the breeze. The two big, emerald

eyes glanced up at him, and the red lips curved into an ironic smile. It

was Lily.

Everyone else was instantly forgotten.

James beckoned to her, wanting her to join him, and he saw her

hesitate. But the next second she walked forward, and began to climb the tree

as well. He smiled as she settled down next to him in the tree branch,

looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

He waited until she looked up to speak. "That's all right," he said

finally, gazing into her eyes. "I'm sorry too."

*I've never felt

this healthy before

I've never wanted

something rational*

Lily and James sat in the tree until well past midnight, talking,

making up for lost time. At one point, James slipped his hand into hers.

Lily blushed, looked up into the night sky, and wondered if she'd died

and gone to heaven.

*I am aware now....

I am aware now....*

He jumped from the tree, and extended an arm to Lily, helping her down

as well. Soft music was wafting in the night air, coming from a

balcony above them, and they began to dance. Lily wrapped her arms around

James's neck, breathing deeply. She felt his arms slip around her waist.

Once again, the night took on that impossible, dreamlike quality.

*And don't be surprised if I love you

for all that you are

I couldn't help it

It's all your fault*

Above them, on the balcony, Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and

Flitwick were gathered. They had been star-gazing, but a far more

beautiful sight had attracted their attention.

"They make such a nice couple, don't you think, Professor Dumbledore?"

Gazing down at the dancing pair, Dumbledore smiled sadly. He knew that

dark days were coming, that Lord Voldemort was gaining power rapidly,

and happy moments such as this would not last much longer.

James and Lily knew, too, that this was a special moment. It was the

moment they fell in love with each other all over again. Something

inside Lily told her that difficult times were approaching, but nothing

could make her sad right now, while she was in James's arms. I may have a

war to fight, she thought, snuggling deeper into James's embrace, but I

know now that I won't have to fight it alone.

"No, Padfoot, they'll hate us!"

"They'll thank us later, Moony. Trust me, they want this on film."

"Oh, all right. But you take horrible pictures. Give me the camera."

* * *

Years later, Harry Potter was in his dormitory, lying on his

four-poster bed, and mulling it all over in his mind. The hard times were at

their worst. Half of the Gryffindor House had either received Black

Letters or had been the cause of them. Faces were swimming behind his closed

eyelids; Ron's numb shock as he learned that his father had been

killed, Malfoy's satisfied leer, and Professor Dumbledore's constant, worried

frown.

Wondering how he was going to cheer himself up, Harry suddenly leapt

out of bed and opened his trunk. After a few moments of searching, he

dug out the photo album Hagrid had given him in his first year. He

flipped to a picture of his parents, one he particularly liked. They were

dancing on the bank of Hogwarts' Lake, beneath the stars and the full

moon. Underneath, it said:

"They'll hate us, Padfoot."

"They'll thank us later, Moony. Trust me, they want this on film."

"Oh, all right. But you take horrible pictures. Give me the camera."

And below that, in Professor Lupin's tidy script, it said: "James and

Lily fall in love, Fifth year, March 31, 1975."