Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Harry Potter (although I did make up Bran Studwick).

He gazes at her as she sits on the floor. Fingers tracing designs onto the cold ground; he smiles as he makes sense of a pair of initials. She thought they were oblivious to her wandering gazes and secret smiles. But Lily was like James when it came to matters of the heart, it only made sense that the only person she was actually fooling was the one who believed he too was managing to hide his true feelings.

His eyes scanned her face, noticing as her typically brilliant green eyes appeared uncharacteristically dull as she glared at the wall. Ignoring his presence even as he sat besides her, she continued in her occupation; he wasn't going to force her to talk if she didn't want to–not yet anyways, he had always had a difficulty being patient.

They remained silent for another twenty minutes before she finally shifted her attention to him with a question. 'What's wrong with me?'

'Where do we start?' He contemplated in faux seriousness. 'Your temper.'– 'You're one to talk.'– 'You care what Slytherins think.' Lily rolled her eyes at that, letting out a small groan as he smirked. 'You're in denial about having feelings for Prongs.'–'Am not,' she mumbled, a blush covering her face.–'You're dating Bran bloody Studwick.'

She sighed, 'We broke up.'

'All right, you didn't break up with someone named Bran Studwick sooner.'

She let out a soft laugh, the hint of bitterness becoming evident towards the end. 'Actually, he broke up with me.' JP, she traced once more before placing her hands on her lap.

'Oh?' He raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she avoided looking at him.

'He wanted me to sleep with him; I told him I wasn't ready.'

'What else?' He asked as tenderly as he could muster, placing his hand on top of hers.

'I told him where he could put his wand.' She let out a snort, leaning her head against his shoulder. 'He wasn't amused.'

'Probably bruised his ego, love.' His fingers reached for a lock of her hair, pulling on it gently. 'Are you upset?'

'No.' She looked up at him. 'I've been dating the tosser for the past four months, and you would think I'd be at least a little bit upset, right? But I'm not, I feel relieved if I'm being honest. So again, what's wrong with me? I thought I liked him, but how do you like someone and not care when they break up with you (even if they're an arse)?'

'Interesting. Maybe you didn't like him then.' He aimed a smirk her way, 'Perhaps you're more into bespectacled prats and just misplaced your feelings somewhere else. But if you're looking I know someone who fits the criteria and wouldn't mind taking you out for a butterbeer–probably wouldn't mind a nice snog either.'

She shoved him lightly, 'Shut it, Black.' But she was laughing as she said it, so he knew there were no harm done.

'You fancy him, it's only a matter of time.'

She nodded, 'Yeah, I do. But you can't rush these things. James is something else.' A smile illuminated her face, reddening her freckled cheeks, 'Someone special. I don't want to mess it up by rushing into it, so I'll wait.'

'Stubborn minx.'

'Persistent arse,' she teased before standing up and beginning to walk away. 'Come on, I think I'll have to settle with getting a butterbeer with you.'

'You're lucky I like you, Evans,' he said after her.

She shook her head, a grin settled on her lips as she turned back and winked at him playfully, 'I suppose so, but I'm pretty remarkable.'

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