AN: I've had this written for months, I don't know why I haven't published it until now. Hope you enjoy it. :)

Doctor Who, Chess, and Bad Wedding Food

The house was quiet.

That was my first conscious thought when I woke up. I thought it was odd because I hadn't woke up to a quiet house once this summer. I groaned and rolled over on my side. It was probably ungodly early or something. I pushed the hair out of my face and looked at the clock that was next to my bed. It said it was ten. I had slept until ten! I hadn't got to sleep past seven since I came home in June.

So far, my entire summer had been sucked up by Petunia's wedding, which was yesterday. Today was the first day that I wasn't expected to go shopping with my mum, put up with Petunia's fussing over how my hair clashes with her color scheme, sit quietly while Yvonne muttered about how she really should have been the maid of honor instead of my cousin. I didn't have to lie through my teeth to family who wanted to know more about my schooling, carry boxes of decorations to various locations, entertain family, share my bedroom, look nice, look at Marge Dursley or not strangle Marge Dursley.

Of all the things I wasn't going to have to do today, not having to see Marge was what put a smile on my face. I really don't know how I refrained from giving that woman tentacles or large boils, statute of secrecy be damned. I suppose it's because I'm a very patient person, I have to be after six years of dealing with Potter.

Eh, it's too early to think about Potter. I actually think that it's always too early to think about Potter, though, I may or may not have been thinking of him more than usual lately. If I have, it's only because my sister's wedding made me temporarily lose my sanity.

I rolled out of bed and decided that a celebratory breakfast was in order. I deserved as much after going a whole month without actually hexing Marge.

I walked down to the kitchen, not bothering to change out of my Dragon Fury t-shirt and dark red pajama shorts simply because I didn't have too. My family wasn't home, no one was in the house aside from me so I wouldn't even have to explain that Dragon Fury was a band. I munched an apple while I set to work on my special breakfast.

It was ten thirty when I finally sat down to eat, but the work had been worth it. I had been feeling creative, so my pancakes were shaped like hearts, flowers and stars. Well, the stars looked more like flowers than the actual flowers did, and the hearts were all lopsided, but I was still pretty pleased with myself. I was just sprinkling some sugar over them when I heard a knock on the door.

I glanced out the kitchen window. Both my parents cars were gone, and there were no other cars in the driveway. Whoever was at the door didn't know that anyone was home so I could eat my breakfast while it was still hot. I pulled the curtain closed and turned back to my breakfast.

It wasn't that I wanted to be rude and ignore whoever had come over, it was just that I hadn't got any time to myself in the last month and if I'm being honest, I just didn't want to see anyone today.

There was another knock as I took my first bite, but I ignored it. It was probably our neighbor, Ms. Anderson, here to complain about how our lawn was about three shades darker than hers and it was really upsetting her inner chi. I really didn't want to listen to that today. She would go away eventually. I continued to eat, and after I had finished almost all of my pancakes the knocker, like predicted, gave up and presumably left.

I don't know why I only received an "A" in Divination, I was pretty good at this whole predicting the future thing.

I was washing my dishes when I heard a tap on the kitchen window. My owl, Leela must have noticed that I wasn't in my room and come downstairs to give me the Daily Prophet.

I reached the window, pushed it open and stepped back to allow her to fly in.

Leela didn't fly in right away, so I stuck my head out the window and looked up.

"Wha'cha looking for, Evans?"

I'll admit it now, I screamed. Like a little girl. I also hit my head on the window, so I almost started crying as well. Hadn't I said only an hour ago that it was too early to think about Potter? It was definitely too early to see Potter. But there he was, standing in between my mum's marigolds and chrysanthemums.

"Sorry!" Potter said, putting his hands up in the air. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me." I lied. I wasn't entirely sure why I lied, because it was quite obvious that he had scared me. But I suppose that's what we did, Potter and I. We disagreed on everything, even when we knew the other was right. We fought, we yelled, we even threw hexes every now and then. So what was he doing in my garden?

"Alright, I didn't scare you." He said, grinning up at me. "But I'm still sorry. And I knocked, earlier." Oh, so that's who was at the door. Well, now I'm really glad I didn't answer it.

"And I didn't answer." I said, as I tried to pull the window shut, Potter had grabbed the window and was preventing me from getting it closed.

"I noticed." He said, pretending as though I weren't trying to slam the window in his face. "But I had taken time out of my day to come and see you, so I figured I shouldn't leave just because you didn't answer the door." I rolled my eyes. It was so like him to assume that he was the center of everyone's universe or to act as though I owed him something. I never asked him to come over, I didn't have to answer the door. I didn't do anything wrong.

"You never did know how to take, 'no' for an answer." I said, giving up on the window. He was stronger than I was; I wasn't going to get it closed with him trying to keep it open. "To what do I owe the intrusion?" I asked, maybe if I got him to say whatever he wanted to say, he would leave faster and I could get back to my day of relaxing. My day of not dealing with people I don't like. And before I met Marge, Potter was at the top of the list of people I don't like.

"I came over to see you, of course." He said, running his hand through his hair. Though he was smarter than I usually gave him credit for and kept his other hand on the window. If he had moved it, I probably would have attempted to close it again.

"I'm terribly busy today." I lied. "I've got loads to do, and I don't need you getting underfoot." I did have loads to do I supposed. I was fairly sure that there was going to be a Doctor Who marathon on all day, which would suck up a lot of my time. And if not, I would rather stare at a wall all day than be in Potter's presence.

"What do you have to do?" Potter asked, drumming his fingers on the windowsill. "Maybe I could help."

"Why would I want you to do that?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. Was he actually trying to be helpful, or did he just want to come in my house so he could sneak into my room and steal a pair of my knickers? I was inclined to believe the latter. It was the kind of thing he would do. He actually did try to sneak into the girl's dormitory fourth year with that exact intent. "I have to put up with you ten months out of the year as it is, why would I want to put up with you during my holiday?"

"Put up with me?" Potter asked, putting a hand over his heart and looking much more serious than the situation called for. "I am a joy." He said enunciating each word carefully. I rolled my eyes.

"You're a pest." I said. "I'm doing chores today. Nothing fun, but my mum wants them done."

"I could help." He said sounding rather sincere. I narrowed my eyes.

"Why?" Potter didn't really seem like the kind of person who would help out with household chores. I actually couldn't even picture him cleaning anything. He was a master at breaking things and making messes, but at cleaning them up? I don't think so.

"I came over here to see you." He repeated. Then he shrugged and added, "If I have to help you clean first, that's fine."

"You could just go home." I said.

"Or you could let me in."

"I don't really want to."

"Well, you could."

"I really don't want to." It was his turn to roll his eyes, which he did ever so dramatically.

"You're just flipping words around now."

"So, you're just saying the same thing over and over." I tried to close the window again, but he was still holding it.

"I came all the way here to visit with you."

"You did visit with me." I said. "Now leave."

"That's not very friendly, Evans."

"I don't have to be friendly today."

"You're Evans." Potter said, taking a step closer to the house and resting his elbow on the windowsill. He was now fairly close to me so I took a step back. He smirked. "You're always friendly."

I sighed. I was usually friendly to people, not to him, but to everyone else. Mostly everyone else. I don't go out of my way to hold open doors for Avery and Mulciber or anything. It wasn't even that I had made a conscious decision to be mean to Potter, it was just that he got me so angry that I didn't know how else to deal with him. "Not today. This is my summer holiday and I can be as mean as I want."

"You don't know how to be mean." Potter said, looking at me like he knew something I didn't. I didn't like it. And what did he mean I didn't know how to be mean? Has he not been paying attention for the last six years? I've been plenty mean to him in the past.

"I do too." I snapped.

"Nah." He said lazily. "But it's cute that you think you do."

"Potter," I almost used his first name because it's easier to draw out in exasperation. "Please leave me alone. I've had to put up with unpleasant people for the last month and today is my first day to be alone." He looked up at me wearing an odd expression on his face.

"You think I'm unpleasant?"

"Yes." He flinched slightly but then shook his head.

"Why did you have to put up with unpleasant people all month?" He asked, choosing not to comment anymore on the fact that I called him unpleasant. That's probably why he thinks I'm such a nice person actually, he chooses not to think about all the mean things I say to him. It's a shame, because some of them are really rather clever.

"My sister got married yesterday." I sighed.

"And there were unpleasant people at the wedding?"

"She married one of the most unpleasant." I said dryly. He snorted. I was going to tell him that I really wasn't joking, but I wasn't in the mood to discuss Vernon right now.

"Why are you really here?" I asked, because I was done talking to him now. I just wanted to go watch the telly and forget that he stopped by and forget about yesterday.

"I fancy you." He said simply. I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, probably resembling a fish. The way he said it, like that was something that people just say to each other on a daily basis. "Looks like rain, don't you think." "Oh sure, and I fancy you, just so you know." People don't say things like that.

"You do not." I said finally. He'd been saying that for a few years now but I didn't believe him. Boys don't throw the girl they fancy into a lake, or tug on their hair, or put dung bombs in their dormitory, or steal her book bag and hide it so she's late for class or generally do any of the things James Potter does to me.

"Why else would I be here?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders. "I could be off practicing Quidditch or teaching my house elf's how to play poker." I snorted at that mental image and Potter smiled.

"Those sound like excellent pastimes, why don't you go and do one of them?"

"I've already done both of them. And I told you, I want to visit with you."

"You taught your house elves to play poker?" I asked, sounding a bit too impressed for my liking, so I quickly added a derisive, "Why?"

"Why not?" He shrugged. Well, he shrugged as much as anyone can while they're using one arm to prop a window open and leaning on the other.

I was starting to think that he was never going to leave. He was just going to stand in my garden talking me in circles forever. I couldn't have that, Mum and Dad would ask some awkward questions. I could walk away from the window, but who knows what Potter would do if left unattended? "If I let you in," I said slowly, regretting it as a smile jumped onto Potter's face. "You have to leave in an hour. I have a very busy day planned out, and-"

"Yes, alright." He said, pushing himself off the side of my house. "I'll leave in an hour."

I pulled the window shut, and watched him jog towards the front door.

I took a deep breath. I wonder what he would do if I just didn't let him in? He wouldn't come in on his own, would he? I could hide from him. Apparate to Mary's house or something.

He knocked on the door, I took another deep breath. I was still in my pajamas, I hadn't showered, and I wasn't in the mood to entertain a guest. Especially not Potter. He knocked again, probably getting impatient with me.

"About time." He said, stepping inside almost as soon as I opened the door, as though he was afraid I would change my mind and slam the door if he didn't. I might have, if I had thought of it. "I thought you forgot about me."

"I wish." I muttered. Forgetting Potter would be as easy as forgetting your own name.

"So this is what a muggle home looks like." He said, taking in the foyer. I watched as he smiled at an old picture of me that was hanging up near the stairs and squinted at a dog leash that was hanging on the coat rack. His eyes dart around the floor looking for the dog. He wasn't going to find it though because it wasn't our dog. Marge had left the leash here. His eyes glanced over our muggle newspaper that was lying on the table near the door. I wonder how weird it is for wizards to see a muggle newspaper, with pictures that don't move.

He then walked over to the telephone that hung on the wall near the bottom of the stairs and picked it up. "This is a felly-phone, right?" He looked pleased with himself, so I took immense satisfaction in telling him he was wrong.

"No, Potter." I said. "That's a telephone."

"I was close." He said, shrugging it off. "There's something called a felly, right?"

"There's a telly." I said.

"Do you have one? Can I see it?" It was almost cute how fascinated he seemed. It would have been cute, if it weren't Potter. But it was, so I rolled my eyes.

"Sure." I said, walking into the living room. He followed close behind me. "That's a telly." I pointed to our television set in the corner of the room.

"What does it do?" Potter said, looking at the lifeless box doubtfully. "Remus said they are supposed to have moving pictures on them."

"Well, the telly's off right now."

"Can you turn it on?" To avoid an unnecessary argument, I grabbed the remote off the couch and pressed the power button. And guess what was on? Doctor Who. I sighed. He really shouldn't have just showed up out of the blue like that. I hate it when people come over unannounced.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing at a Dalek. "Is that a muggle contraption?"

"No, it's a science fiction character off this program. It's called a Delak. It's an evil robot." I shrugged. I didn't really want to try and explain to him the entire premise of Doctor Who because the only thing I would accomplish is making myself sound like a loon.

"What's a robot?"

"A machine that can think for itself. Sort of. Not really. It's a machine that is programed to do certain things. Like butter toast or something." I sat down on the couch and turned up the volume. Potter sat down next to me, looking enthralled by the telly. Maybe we didn't have to talk anymore, I could watch my show, and he could- well, he could sit there quietly.

That didn't last. At least he waited until a commercial break came up to talk.

"What is going on?" He asked, looking at me in utter confusion. I started laughing because that was a good question. I didn't even know what was going on in the show and I'd seen the episode before.

"Everything usually comes together in the last few minutes." I explained. "Until then, you just watch."

"I don't like it. We should do something else." He said, standing up. I sighed. Of course he doesn't like Doctor Who. I looked at the clock. I had given him an hour, and there was still forty-five minutes left before I could kick him out on the street. The show would still be on then, and I didn't really like this episode anyway. "We could play chess or something." He said.

"I don't have wizard's chess." I said. I wasn't the biggest fan of it either. It was violent. All the pieces went around smashing each other to bits, which is completely unnecessary.

"Muggle chess is the same though, isn't it? You just have to move the pieces by hand." That was the only good thing about wizard's chess. You didn't have to move the pieces yourself.

"I suppose we could play." I said, standing up. I flicked off the telly and walked over to the cupboard in the hallway. The chessboard was buried beneath Scrabble, a box of who-knows-what and Monopoly. I reached up to grab the chessboard, but like most things on the top shelf, it was a bit out of my reach. I looked round for the stepping stool, but Potter beat me too it.

"It's alright to ask for help you know." He said, reaching over my head and pulling the chessboard out from under the pile.

"I didn't need help." I said. Again with the arguing. It's like a reflex. We have to argue with each other. Though, come to think of it, he's not fighting back. I waited for him to tell me I was wrong, but he didn't. He just shook his head and smiled. What was that about?

"Where should we play?" He asked, tucking the chessboard under his arm.

"The kitchen." I said. We walked into the kitchen and he put the board on the table. I pulled the little drawers out from the side of the board and started setting up my pieces.

The chess match ensued and I realized chess was actually a really good idea. We didn't have to talk to play chess, it was taking up a lot of time and I was winning.

"Check." I said, smiling smugly.

"Checkmate." He said, looking not at me, but at the board.

"I wi- wait. What?" I looked down at the pieces, but it was true. He had my king checkmated. How in the world? "Did you cheat?" I asked, glaring up at him.

"No." He said, cool as anything. "You were watching the whole time, how could I have cheated?"

"But I was winning." I protested.

"And then you weren't." He didn't sound smug, he sounded like he was just stating the truth. I wanted to hit him again. He wasn't acting like he was supposed to. He was supposed to fight with me, he was supposed to be smug and annoying. He wasn't doing any of those things. He was being… I don't know. He wasn't being Potter and it was throwing me off.

"I want a re-match." I said, resetting the board. He shrugged and began to set his side up as well. After the first few moves, he decided to talk.

"Was it any fun at all?" He asked. "The wedding, I mean."

"Why do you care?" I asked, not really wanting to talk about it.

He shrugged. "Just making conversation."

"It wasn't fun." I said. "My sister and I- well, we're very different. The wedding was full of her friends and her husband's family."

"Wasn't your family there too?"

"Sure. But I never see any of them anymore. I'm the odd-ball at family gatherings. The girl who's at boarding school all year long. They try to be friendly, ask me about school, my plans, but it's awkward. I have to lie to them. I can't tell them what I'm actually planning on doing." He didn't say anything right away and everything I had said caught up with me. Why did I just tell him that? I looked up at him, his brow was crinkled and his mouth was pressed into a thin line.

"That would be difficult." Potter finally said, moving his knight. I nodded. "What are you planning on doing after Hogwarts?"

"I dunno. I'd like to work in the ministry I think. Maybe in the legal department."

"You'd be good at that." He looked up at me and smiled.

"Thanks." I bit my lip. This whole situation was all very strange. I was sitting in my kitchen, playing chess and talking about my future with my sworn enemy. Well, I suppose he's not my enemy. But like I said, he's second on the list of people I don't like. Actually, to be fair, he's probably third. I don't like my new brother-in-law too much. And that was probably the reason I was talking to him. I hadn't had a real conversation with anyone all month. Everything had been about my sister's wedding and I wasn't allowed to bring up anything relating to magic. I was craving conversation, and Potter was here.

"If the circumstances were different, I think I would have wanted to play Quidditch." James said while inspecting the board. It was no secret that he was a bloody fantastic Quidditch player. I'd seen him play, and he liked to bring it up every chance he got. Now he was acting like the Potter I knew. "I just really love playing Quidditch. It's completely exhilarating and always challenging, you know? You never know what's going to happen when you're up in the air. You could get lucky and score ten goals in one game or you could get git with a Bludger ten minutes in and wind up in the hospital wing for a week. You have to be ready for anything." Okay, maybe he wasn't bringing Quidditch up to brag. Challenging? Potter never admits to something being challenging. Nor has he ever admitted that some things that happen on the Quidditch pitch are simply luck.

"I can't even fly, so no. I don't know." I said bitterly. I was really annoyed with him, because he wasn't acting annoying. I am a sad sorry soul.

"Well, that's sad." He frowned. "But there must be something you love to do. Something that makes you- You know, something that you always love to do. Something that- When you're doing it, it just makes you feel-" He fumbled for the right word, "-complete." He grimaced. "No, that sounds cheesy."

"A bit." I thought it over. "But I think I understand. That's why I want to go into law. I want to help people who can't help themselves. I want to make sure that people are protected."

"That makes you feel… complete?" He tilted his head.

"It makes me feel like I have a purpose." I said. Then I remembered something he said. "Wait, if things were different you'd want to play Quidditch?" I'd always pictured him going on to play Quidditch professionally. If anyone had the talent to do it, he did. It didn't even pain me to admit it that much. It was just true. It was just something that was him. His hair is black, his eyes are hazel and he's a brilliant Quidditch player.

"Yeah." He said, playing with a pawn of his that I'd killed. "I mean, I still could, but I'm not going to. Not with everything that's going on with Voldemort," I flinched. "and the Death Eaters. I'm going to fight them."

"You're going to be an Auror, then?"

"I think so." He said, smiling and looking at me over the top of his glasses. "Someone's got to do it." And as soon as he said it, I could picture it. James in his Auror robes fighting Death Eaters, it was as easy as it was to picture him playing Quidditch.

"You could die." I said, realizing that that thought bothered me more than I thought it should. "Doesn't that worry you?"

He was quiet for a moment, still fiddling with the pawn. "If I don't fight, someone else could die in my place. What was it you just said? You want to help people who can't help themselves? That sounds about right." I tilted my head to the side and looked at him. He was acting so different. He wasn't acting smug or like he was some hero for wanting to save people's lives and it was making me uncomfortable. I had got used to James' behavior and I had adjusted my behavior accordingly and now it was like I was meeting someone new with a familiar face. It was unnerving.

"You're acting different." I said.

"Not really." James said. "You're acting different."

"I am not." I said. Then I crinkled my nose and added, "Am I?"

"You're talking to me." He said, spinning the pawn on the table.

"You're not being a git."

"Am I normally?"

"Yes."

"When's the last time I acted like a git?"

"I don't know." I said mockingly. "When I was leaving the train station and you ran into me."

"That was an accident." James sighed. "I told you, Benjy Fenwick shoved me. Well, to be fair, he tripped into me. He's a klutz."

"Okay, the last time you asked me out in the Great Hall." I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I was still a bit upset about that incident. He had asked me when the entire hall was quiet, so everyone heard. It wasn't the first time I had to publicly turn him down, but it was still uncomfortable. Plus, McGonagall had given me detention for pouring my pumpkin juice on his head.

"Asking you out makes me a git?" He asked, looking amused.

"Asking me out in front of the entire school just to embarrass me makes you a git."

"I don't ask you out to embarrass you." James sighed, dropping the pawn onto the table.

"Right, you fancy me." I said sarcastically.

"Right." He ran his hand through his hair. "It's your turn." He said, nodding at the chess board. It was then I noticed that we hadn't actually been playing chess for a while now. I glanced at the clock. He had been here for almost two hours.

"It's been an hour." I said, moving my rook anyway.

"I know." He moved a pawn to block my advance.

We played in silence now.

After about ten minutes of listening to nothing but the soft scratching sounds of the chess pieces sliding over the board I had to say something. I don't know why it was uncomfortable now, we had played the entire first game without speaking. "I'm sorry." I blurted out.

"For what?" He asked.

"I don't know." I started chewing on the inside of my cheek.

"Then why did you say it?" He asked, looking down at the board.

"I upset you." I said quietly.

"I upset you all the time." He said with a shrug. "I don't apologize."

"I guess."

"You guess?" James laughed humorlessly. "Are you telling me you weren't upset with me when you poured your pumpkin juice on my head during the end of term feast? That you just did that for the hell of it?"

"Of course I was upset. But you didn't hurt my feelings." That shut him up. His hand went to his hair and his face turned a bit red. The atmosphere in the room went from uncomfortable to extremely awkward, but that didn't stop me from talking. "You wind me up." I said. "You get me angry, but you don't hurt me." And it was the truth. He had never said anything with the intention of hurting me. I hadn't realized that until now, because before I had wanted to dislike him. But honestly, everything he did was in jest, he was just having a laugh. But when Avery called me a 'mudblood' or Yaxley pulled his wand on me in the corridor outside the potions classroom, James was always one of the first to stand up for me. He picks at me until I burst, but he never said anything that made me feel bad about myself, or belittled me. He had drawn a line and he had never crossed it.

For once, it seemed as though James had nothing to say. He just sat there waiting for me to take my turn.

"Did I embarrass you?" I asked, smiling a bit simply because the possibility that I might have embarrassed him was pretty funny.

"What?" He asked, glancing up at me and then looking back at the chessboard. "No. Of course not."

"I did, didn't I?"

"You didn't embarrass me, Evans." He sighed. "Now would you go already. It's your turn."

"No." I said, flicking over one of my pieces. "We're talking now."

"I got the impression that you didn't want to talk to me earlier." He muttered.

"That was like an hour ago." I said, waving away his comment. "You tell me you fancy me out of the blue, you ask me out all the time, but what I said about having hurt your feelings embarrasses you?"

"I'm not embarrassed." He said, running his hand through his hair. "I just want to finish our game."

"Your red ears say otherwise." I laughed, moving a chess piece at random. He leaned forward to contemplate his next move. I watched him as he pretended to concentrate on the chess pieces and then I was hit with the realization of what his embarrassment meant.

He fancies me. He honestly likes me. And I had openly mocked him about it. Twice. In the last fifteen minutes.

I still stand by what I said earlier, boys don't treat the girl they fancy how James treats me, but maybe James didn't know that. Maybe he had missed the memo that said if you fancy a girl you shouldn't throw pudding on her or steal her homework or- shit. Maybe I had missed the memo.

What is the one thing all mum's tell their daughters when they come home crying because a boy had pushed them down or pulled their hair? He's only doing it because he fancies you. It was just, most boys grew out of that stage once they realized that doing things like that didn't make the girl fancy you back. James, who is stunted on the maturity scale as far as I'm concerned, must have never grown out of it.

James actually likes me. As soon as I had worked through all of that, I felt my face heat up and prayed to Merlin that James would continue to avoid looking at me. Things would get even more awkward if we were both sitting here all embarrassed.

Unfortunately for me, James did look up. "What are you blushing for?" He asked. The way he asked though, sounded like a confession. It sounded more like he had meant, "Why are you blushing too?"

I decided to use his technique and pretend to be completely captivated by the chess game now as to avoid answering his question. He waited until I moved my knight and, with his arms crossed over his chest he then waited for me to answer his question.

"You're right." I said. "I don't want to talk." It was a feeble attempt, I know, but I had to try. I couldn't very well tell him that I had just come to the oh so late conclusion that he had feelings for me. That just wasn't a conversation that I wanted to have.

"Well, that's just too damn bad." He said, raising his eyebrows. "I don't recall you having any sympathy for me a few minutes ago."

"If I tell you why I'm blushing, then you'll start blushing again." I sighed. "It will be a never ending circle of embarrassment."

"Try me." He challenged. I scoffed.

"You got embarrassed when I apologized to you!" I really wasn't that embarrassed anymore, I just didn't want to admit that I was completely thick seeing as how most people were under the impression that I was fairly intelligent. Plus I hated being wrong, or admitting that I had been wrong.

"I wasn't embarrassed!" He said, throwing his hands in the air.

"You were too!"

"Why were you blushing? Were you were picture me without-"

"Stop." I warned, glaring at him. I didn't even let myself think about what he was about to say, I was blushing enough as it was. "No."

"Then what was it? Tell me why you were blushing!"

"Fine!" I shouted. "You fancy me!" He stared at me for a moment. Just looking at me, like he was waiting for me to say I was joking and tell him the real reason I was embarrassed. But I had told him the real reason, so I just sat there looking back at him. Then he started laughing. He didn't stop either, he just kept laughing like he thought what I said was hilarious. I don't know why he found it funny.

"You're a loon, Lily." He said, when he finally stopped laughing. "A complete and utter loon."

"I don't think you're in a position to call anyone names right now." I said. "What's so funny."

"Did you honestly just work out that I fancy you?" He asked, smirking at me. I crossed my arms and grumbled.

"Maybe." He chuckled a bit again.

"Apparently I haven't made myself clear in the past. Even though I've came right out and said, 'Lily, I fancy you.' Apparently that doesn't mean what I think it does." I wanted to embarrass him again now because he was having way too much fun with this for my liking.

"I don't mean that you think I'm pretty or that you want to shag me," He tried to interrupt me but I just spoke louder. "But you actually have feelings for me." He froze with his mouth open and just stared at me.

"Yes." He said finally. He had his arms crossed again and he looked like he was trying to gauge my reaction and that made me blush again. This plan to embarrass him again was really backfiring on me. "I fancy you, Lily. I have feelings for you." And my cheeks got even hotter. He had said this all before, I don't know why I was acting like this. Well, I do. I had never actually believed him.

"I've worked that out." I said to the table. I couldn't look at him right now.

"Took you long enough." He said. I could hear the smile in his voice but I wasn't looking at him so I couldn't be sure.

I was so confused now. How are you supposed to act around someone who you had always thought was teasing you but it turns out he wasn't and that he actually fancies you? When someone who you always thought was a prat turns out to be this guy who you find out isn't really that bad of a person and he was probably just trying to impress you when he talked about how amazing he was all the time and when he was showing off in the corridors and stuff. How are you supposed to act? Because I have no clue. Apparently I didn't know James at all.

"This is all your fault." I said. He laughed.

"Of course it is."

I looked up at him. "I mean it. I thought it was all just some big joke." The smile he had been wearing fell off his face. "I thought you were just teasing me and giving me a hard time."

"No you didn't." He said quickly. "Why would you think that?"

"What was I supposed to think?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. "You were never very nice to me. All you did was ask me out in ridiculous ways and you never acted very upset when I turned you down. You would just laugh it off. Like it was a joke, which I thought it was." He thought it over and nodded.

"Okay, but I told you that I fancied you."

"I could tell you my eyes are blue." I said. "That doesn't make it true."

He flinched. "You really thought that it was all just a joke."

"I really did." I said. "In fifth year I actually thought that I had done something to upset you and that you angry with me."

"Oh Merlin." He put his head in his hands and sighed. "Oh Merlin." He said again. "Lily," He said quietly, when he looked up at me he looked as though someone had slapped him. He looked shocked and sort of panicked. "Lily I am so sorry." I tried to interrupt him but he held up his hand. "Let me finish. I never meant to make you feel embarrassed or anything like that. And I especially never meant for you to think that my fancying you was a joke. I mean, I know that I was caviler about your rejections, but I didn't really want you to know- I mean I wanted you to know that I fancied you, I just didn't want you to know how much I fancied you. I just- I didn't think that- I'm just really sorry, Lily. I'm really really sorry."

I wasn't upset about it, not really. It was something that I had kind of got used to after the last three years of him constantly asking me out. I was more upset about the fact that I thought he had been pretending to fancy me and still chasing off all the boys who wanted to ask me to Hogsmeade. But I didn't think telling him that would make him any less upset. "It's okay." I said quietly, hoping to mollify him.

"But it's not okay!" He said. "You went around thinking that I was some dreadful human being for who knows how long?" He grabbed a fist full of his hair and stood up. He started pacing back and forth. "No wonder you never said yes. It used to drive me crazy all the time. I would ask Sirius and Remus and, I even asked Peter but they just kept saying stupid things that didn't help any. But this whole time you thought I was just kidding! You thought I was joking!"

I was starting to see why he was so upset. He thought that if I had taken him seriously I might have said yes. But I wouldn't have. I would have been a lot nicer with my rejections. For example, I wouldn't have told him that I'd rather date the giant squid. But I wouldn't have said yes. I still thought he was a prat even when he hadn't been acting on his feelings for me.

"Lily!" He turned towards me, both hands were in his hair now. "Lily-"

"James, listen." I said calmly. His eyes snapped to mine quickly. "I know where you're going with this but I think I have to tell you something." He nodded slowly. "James I still would have said no. Even if I knew you weren't kidding." He dropped his eyes to the ground and pressed his lips together.

"Why?" He asked. And it sounded so heartbreaking that I felt my throat tighten up and I couldn't believe that this was the way this afternoon was turning out. I had let him into my house after making him promise that he had to leave in an hour and three hours later he was pretty close to making me cry, or maybe it was the other way around.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. "Sit down." I said. He dropped into the chair across from me and started tapping his fingers on the table. "Everything else I said is still true." I said. "You weren't very nice to me, you still stole my things and gave me a hard time. You bullied people and you gloated about everything, whether it was your grades or some new Quidditch move. I didn't think you were a very nice person, regardless of what you did to me." I was half way through talking when I realized that I was using past tense. He seemed to notice too.

"I did most of those things to get your attention." He said, trying to smile.

"About that," I said, leaning closer to him and tilting my head. "Why did you think it was a good idea to hex people in front of me?"

James let out a short breathy laugh. "I haven't done that since fifth year." He said. "But I wanted to show you I was good at magic or something like that. That I was better at magic than anyone else." I shook my head.

"You didn't really pick opponents that proved you were the best."

"I know." He said.

"And you still hexed people last year." I pointed out.

"I know." He said again. "But last year was different. I didn't do it to impress you."

"Why then?"

He looked at me and shrugged. "Who did I hex?"

"Avery, Mulciber, Yaxley, Se- Snape, Rosier… Should I go on and list out the rest of the Slytherin house?"

"What redheaded prefect do all of those gits have a problem with?" He asked, raising his eyebrows.

"See, if you wanted to impress me you should have told me something like that. That you were hexing Slytherin prats into leaving me alone."

James narrowed his eyes and tilted hid head towards me. "That impresses you?"

"No." I said smiling. "But it's sends a much clearer message than anything else you did." James snorted, and then he sighed.

"Lily?"

"Yes?"

"Can we be friends?"

I looked over at him and smiled. "If you asked me that this morning I would have laughed at you. Or ignored you." James nodded.

"I know. That's probably why I didn't ask this morning."

"Because you've been oh so worried about rejection before." I said, before remembering that I really shouldn't make jokes about that anymore seeing as how he actually does like me. He didn't seem to mind thought. He just shook his head and smiled. "I think we might be able to be friends."

"You think we might be able to?" He laughed. "Why don't you try and sound a little more uncertain."

"Alright." I smirked. "I sort of think there might be a possibility that we may be able to form some kind of friendship. Eventually." He laughed again and ran his hand through his hair.

"Well I think we might have already fulfilled that." I nodded. We weren't exactly friends, I mean just this morning I couldn't stand thinking of him. It had most certainly been an interesting day. He looked down at the chessboard. "You still want to play?"

"Not really." I looked over at the clock on the wall and I heard him sigh.

"I know you only said an hour, but I figured you changed your mind. But I promised to leave so-"

"Shut up." I said. He raised his eyebrows at me and I smirked. "It's almost three. I don't know about you but I'm starving." I stood up and walked over to the fridge. "If you are hungry, I hope you like crap wedding food." I glanced back at him and he was smiling tentatively.

"You're sure?" He asked, standing up. "Because I can leave if you'd prefer."

"Sit down, James." He sat. Quite quickly, I might add. "We've got loads of left overs."

"Alight. What exactly is crap wedding food?" He asked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. It didn't even bug me all that much either. I just shook my head and opened the fridge.

"Well, my sister thinks she has to prove that she's better than other people through her possessions and apparently her food as well. So we've got a bunch of fancy French stuff that I'm not even going to try to pronounce," I stuck my hand in and tried to move some of the containers around. It proved to be much more difficult than it should have been because they had so much food at the wedding and people didn't eat it all and we got all the left overs. The fridge was literally bursting with leftover food.

"Why don't you just get something out that you like." James said. "I'll have some of that."

"You'll blindly eat whatever I put in front of you?" I asked, catching sight of a gelatin that had bits of fish in it.

"I didn't say that." I laughed and continued going through the contents of the fridge.

"You called me James."

"What?"

"Just a minute ago. You called me James."

I turned around and looked at him. "We just decided to be friends, shouldn't I call you by your name? I mean I know you and your mates have cute little nicknames for each other, but-"

"You did it before that." He interrupted. "You called me James before you agreed to be my friend." I raised my eyebrows and nodded slowly. This boy needs some serious help.

"Okay." I turned back around and got some plates out of the cupboard.

"I liked it." I paused what I was doing for a moment and then sighed.

"Don't get all weird on me. I was actually beginning to believe that you were a real live person for a while there." James laughed.

"A real live person? Whatever gave you that idea?"

"I don't remember anymore." I said. I put all the lids back on the food containers and then stood in front of the fridge trying to remember how they had fit in before. I had to say something now I suppose. If we were going to be friends, he couldn't be saying things like that all the time. He would have to just be my friend. "And you can't do stuff like that." I said as casually as I could.

"Do what?" I turned around to face him and gestured with my hands, somehow trying to convey what he couldn't say by swirling them around near my face. I knew that wasn't going to help.

"Say stuff like that."

"Stuff like what?" He smirked. I put my hand on my hip and sighed. He knew exactly what I was talking about, the prat.

"You're being deliberately difficult."

"So."

"So, stop." I turned around and got back to preparing our late lunch.

When I finally got everything put away and our food heated up and I brought it over to the table. I noticed that James had put away all the chess pieces and moved the board itself off the table.

"Thank you for that." I said, nodding in its direction.

"Thank you for this." He said, nodding at the food.

"And I mean it." I added. "If we're going to be friends…"

"Yeah, alright Lily, I know." James said. He was nodding his head as if he was patronizing me, but he was also avoiding eye contact.

"Do you?"

"Yes." He laughed, looking up at me briefly. "No hitting on you, or asking you out all the time. We're friends."

"Exactly." I smiled. "Good. Okay, dig in."

"What is it we're eating?"

"I told you, I can't pronounce any of the food. It's just pretty decent, alright?"

"Pretty decent is my favorite kind of food." He said with a wink. I rolled my eyes. I should extend the list to no flirting either, but I don't know if James knows how to hold a conversation without flirting. I mean, the boy probably flirts with his broomstick for all I know. "Did I do something wrong already?"

"Nah." I sighed, pushing my food around my plate with my fork.

"Good."

We ate in silence, and I tried to use the time to make sense of what had happened today. James had showed up at my house this morning, and refused to leave until I let him in. Then he had somehow convinced me that he could stay over all afternoon instead of the one hour I given him. And then I agreed to be friends with him. I laughed, because, what else was there to do in this situation?

"What?" James asked, a smile forming on his lips already.

"It's just," I took a deep breath, trying to stop giggling. "If you told me yesterday, how today was going to go, I would have thought you were off your rocker." I laughed again. James chuckled a bit.

"I don't think I would have believed it either." He said. "It's been a hell of a day."

"You can say that again." I said.

He picked up his glass of water and held it up. "To our newfound friendship, may it come easier than our past six years of interaction."

"Much easier." I said, lifting up my own glass and clinking it to James'.