"I don't like your attitude."

Ever since he'd walked in, she hadn't given him a second of her day. No matter how many times he said hello or tried to get her attention, she was giving him a frigid cold shoulder. Not today though. He was going to get her to talk to him.

"Excuse me?"

He could hear in her tone she was miffed now. That was better than nothing."I said, I don't like your attitude Evans."

"And I don't like your face, Potter." He chuckled.

"Well now, that's just a bit harsh, don't you think?"

He smirked crookedly at her, plopping down on the chair that sat opposite her at the table. The library was quiet and they were far enough back that Madam Pince shouldn't hear their bickering. It was a good spot. Almost as if she picked it accordingly.

"Actually I think it's just harsh enough."

"What don't you like about my face? I'm pretty damn handsome if you ask me," he said, stroking along his jaw line as she huffed and looked up at him.

Her green eyes were alight with a fight. It was a beautiful thing. "First it's that arrogant smirk you always wear."

"That's just my natural sex appeal, I can't do anything about that."

"Secondly," she continued, thrusting her quill at him and jabbing the feather against his chest, "your nose is crooked.

He looked at her like she was insane. "Bludger to the face, I should be lucky I have a nose. You're just fishing for things."

"Your teeth are yellow!"

"Yeah, well, I have a fag every now and again. Your freckles have no distinct pattern."

This seemed to stop her in her tracks, her eyebrows knitting together as if thoroughly confused by what he said. He loved it when he did something she didn't understand, it was like watching her discover something new. It was always intriguing to watch.

"My – my freckles have no distinct pattern?" Her voice was high pitched as if accusing him of something. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"I mean, that they're kind of just dotted on there. Like someone shook their quill and all the ink splattered across your cheeks."

"Who has a distinct freckle pattern?"

He dropped her smirk and watched her glare, giving her a wink he slouched back in his chair more. "Holly Finnigan."

"Holly Finnigan? How would you know?"

He thought back fondly on a day in the middle of last winter. He had approached the brunette Ravenclaw after a snowball fight and they'd snogged for hours warmly in a broom closet on the second floor. The fair Irish girl's freckles traced across her nose and cheeks in a pattern he remembered seeing in Astronomy class. A constellation. And then when he undid the buttons on her blouse there was a small cluster of them in the shape of a heart on her collarbone. Irish beauty.

He'd love to know how many hearts Lily had under her blouse.

"Let's just say I've been closer to her face than you have."

"You are a prat," the red in her cheeks was delightful as she blushed and went back to her work. He just smiled kindly, leaning across and putting his fingers under her chin. "What are you doing?"

"Let me take a closer look." He lifted her face, his nose almost touching hers as he felt her gasp quietly surprised by his closeness. "Maybe I missed something."

"I don't like you this close Potter."

"I've been this close before."

"Yeah, when Sirius pushed you so hard you fell on top of me and knocked down about five hundred other people."

"You exaggerate."

She pouted out her bottom lip. "I do not."

"Hush, I'm trying to find a pattern."

"I thought I was just splattered with ink."

"Nope…I've found it!"

"What?" She actually sounded curious, the smell of her perfume making his hands sweat as he kept one under her chin.

"Right there," he grazed his thumb over one cheek."It looks like a…"

"A what, Potter? Spit it out for Merlin's sake!"

"A cow."

"A COW?" The screech practically deafened him. She swatted at his hand so quickly that he almost toppled out of his seat.

"Oh come now Lily, cows are gorgeous creatures. You just have a little cow right under your eye, it's adorable."

"I cannot stand you."

"Come now, just because you have a tiny freckly cow –"

"I DO NOT!"

He grinned, biting back a laugh at her obvious irritation. "I guess I could call it a freckly sheep if that makes you feel better. Or a bear…do you like bears?"

She huffed, trying to get all her books into her bag and once and awhile looking up like she was going to say something. When she turned to leave, she stopped in her tracks and looked back to him with the prettiest blush he'd ever seen.

"Holly Finnigan is a cow. And you are an arse."

"But you never finished telling me how much you hated my face. You can't leave now!" She put her hands on her hips and looked at him in a way he knew meant he was in trouble. He didn't mind though.

"Your face looks like a cow."

He laughed so loud he was sure Pince would be running back to swat him on the head with a particularly heavy book."Oh come now, that's not even original Lily. You've got to mean it."

She looked at him hard, as if deciding something and he waited with baited breath. "I can't believe you said I have a cow on my face."

"I didn't realize you'd take it so hard," he laughed a little, her shoulders sinking as if in slight defeat. "I promise never to list whatever other animal patterns your freckles make."

"You're weird, and a total prat."

"I can live with that."

"And you have terrible hair."

He stood up, shaking a finger at her and the fire burning under his skin. "I do NOT have terrible hair. You're just trying to hurt me."

"I only state the truth."

"You are a mean vindictive creature."

"My cow and I are going to lunch now."

"Yeah…you better. Before –"

"Before what?"

She was smiling at him, really smiling at him. Like she was having fun. He stopped for a second, smirking at her, "Before I rip my clothes off and show you how much I really love cows."

"Oh Merlin's beard."