A/N: It's been a long time since I've written anything, but as only a part-time student this year, I've gotten bored enough and distracted enough in class to start a few new projects. This one's a bit of a strange concept, but bear with it. As always, please read, review, and enjoy!

(Late October, 1979)

As she woke up, Lily Evans noticed several things at once. Her head felt like it had been in an accident with the Hogwarts Express, wherever she was felt really drafty, and the sunlight coming through the window of the unrecognizable room was really damn annoying. She then realized that she was snuggled up against a man's bare chest and being held there by his arm, which was draped over her - she realized with a jolt - also naked body. Why couldn't it have actually just been drafty?!

Hesitantly, she peeled her eyes open against the infernal sun, and slowly moved her glance upwards along the man's tanned and muscular torso. What the hell, Lily, she thought furiously to herself, you just woke up in the same bed with a naked mystery man, now is not the time to be checking him out!

The instant her eyes hit his unruly black hair, she squeezed them shut again, trying to assure herself that lots of guys had messy, jet black hair that somehow constantly looked windblown. Right?

She resigned herself to the inevitable and opened her eyes again to finally examine his face, and had to hold back her groan. She had evidently just spent a night of drunken sex with none other than James fricking Potter.

Lily stuck a hand out behind her, afraid that moving would wake him up, and willed her wand to come to her.

His soft snoring stopped for an instant, but started up again after Lily had placed him under a mild sleeping spell, which Healers usually used for uncooperative kids. She eased herself out from under his arm and crawled out of the bed to look for her clothes.

After scurrying around the room picking up various clothing items, grabbing her bra from where it was hanging from a doorknob, and summoning her missing shoe to her from out of the closet, Lily apparated back to her little apartment, knowing that she didn't have much time until he would probably wake up.

Where's the damn train when you need it?

James Potter woke up having dreamt that Lily Evans, his long time crush from school, had come home with him the night before. The clarity of the dream made him feel like he was 16 again, and he could practically smell the vanilla that was in her shampoo.

He knew it was a dream though, regardless of how vivid it was. He hadn't seen or heard from Lily Evans in the almost year and half since they had graduated. He didn't know where she lived or what she did for a living, but he did know that the Quidditch bar he was at last night was the least likely place he would have found her at.

No, James told himself, there can't have been a girl in his room from the night before. According to Sirius, girls that go home with professional Quidditch players don't get up and leave in the morning without saying goodbye. And Sirius would know better than anyone.

The only thing James did know for sure was that he had a hangover the size of Britain. Running a hand through his hair, and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand, he headed to his bathroom for a hangover potion and a cold shower. He didn't even realize that the spot of bed next to him was still slightly warm, or that the pillows still smelled slightly of vanilla.