"My first cat's name was Captain Apple."

"I once bewitched all of the knights on the third floor to attack Filch anytime he passed."

"I hate all things 'grape' flavored."

"I've broken my wrist three times."

"I'm left handed."

"I already knew that. New fact."

"Okay," she said, pulling the chocolate frog straight from his hand, "No one else in my family has red hair."

Lily sat across from James, whose eyes gleamed pleasantly as his smile widened in amusement. The rounds schedule lay abandoned on the floor after two hours of work that left the chart still incomplete, and candy wrappers or bottles of Butterbeer scattered the small office they shared as Head students. Lily had raised her eyebrows at James when he pulled the Butterbeer from his bag, but with a wink and a simple "C'mon, Evans," she was laughing as she pulled one down from his grasp and kicked off her shoes. The mid-October weather turned colder than normal this year, so the fireplace in the office roared peacefully beside them from their spots on the floor. The changing light highlighted James' features, causing her to giggle (though she blamed the Butterbeer when he asked).

James pulled another box from the pile and opened it. "Really? No one else? No great, great aunt twice removed?"

"Not that we know of," she shrugged, pulling her hair over her shoulder and looking at it as she twirled her thick ponytail round her free hand. "Dad used to tease that he'd sent me back to the alley they found me in whenever I misbehaved, and Mum would have conniptions over the jumpers I'd wear whenever the colors clashed. She and my sister are both blonde, see?" She tossed the ponytail back, thinking. "The other kids teased me constantly." Her brow creased at the unpleasant memories of her childhood, which had been lonely save for her sister and later Severus due to the odd quirks about her, which could later be explained by uncontrolled magic.

"Kids teased you?" James asked, a hint of anger in his voice. "Why? Your hair is beautiful." Lily felt her cheeks heat up as she tucked a free strand behind her ear.

"Thank you," she mumbled, but then jerked her head up. "Wait! You teased me for my hair too, prat, in First Year!"

He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding her gaze. "Little James is a right prick, who didn't know much of anything." The look he now gave Lily was sincere. "Sorry for that... For all that."

Lily shrugged as well, offering a small smile. "Little Lily didn't know much about anything, either. We're not who we used to be and I'm grateful for that." There was a moment of silence, in which both Lily and James sipped their drinks, trying to ignore the significance of the conversation, of trying to put a lot of their past under the bridge. James looked back at Lily curiously.

"You never told me that you had a sister."

"I would, er, rather not talk about it." She told him, shifting uncomfortably. "These are supposed to be fun facts, not painful back stories." He didn't seem completely satisfied with her response, so Lily changed topic. "Alright, so you won't tell me your middle name," and here James laughed again, his chuckle deep and warm.

"You don't want to know, I promise. Probably as tragic as that sister of yours."

She rolled her eyes, but found that she appreciated his humor on the Petunia subject. Little he knew of Petunia, James knew Lily well enough to know how to both rile her anger and calm her worries. "So give me a fun fact. Anyone tease you incessantly in your childhood as well?"

"Who would have?" James took a swig of his Butterbeer before looking back at Lily. His glasses reflected the fire, the light dancing off the lenses. His gaze dropped, and his shoulders fell. "The only child of well off parents, who were so far into their adult life they didn't know how to properly integrate a child with their old lifestyle and jobs, a kid who was always given everything money could buy, surrounded by stuffy old Pureblood family members. House elves don't tease their masters. I was a loved, but lonely little rich boy." Lily remained quiet, a bit taken aback by James' confession. He didn't need any prodding to continue. "Being able to be with kids my age at Hogwarts was something I had dreamed about. I was a prick- am a prick- because I didn't know what else to be." James focused on the fire, seeing something in the flames invisible to Lily. He had retreated into a shell that she had not seen in James before. It was as if she weren't there, and that killed her.

"You're not a prick," was all Lily could blurt out.

James jumped a little, quickly falling out of his revere. "Sometimes I don't know." But he grinned at Lily nonetheless. "That means a lot coming from you."

She ignored the comment, but could not ignore the giddy feeling she got in her gut that came from what James said. "That wasn't a very fun fact," she pouted.

"You asked, I answered. Besides, I felt like you should know." And Lily didn't think she imagined a red tint to James' cheeks as he continued, but whether it was a blush or trick of the lighting, she couldn't tell. "Fun fact, then- my favorite hobby when I was young was to hide Popping Pebbles in various courses of dinner. " His face lit up with boyish pride at his immature antics. "Should have seen my mother try to stop it. She couldn't keep up with me."

Lily laughed along with him, their voices echoing off the stone walls, coming back to them in a single melody of sound. But something tugged at Lily's gut, a small weight that she felt more and more often when she heard other students discuss their families. She looked at James, biting her lip and weighing her options. She didn't have to kill the mood, really, she didn't. But she had to know... She stopped laughing, but he was still grinning, sipping away at his Butterbeer. She sighed.

"I forget that you're Pureblood sometimes." The smile fell off of James' face quick as a Snitch.

"I'd rather everyone forgot. My family isn't like what you might think, Lily, I swear- not my parents, and for God's sake certainly not me." His voice was urgent, like she had to understand. "Blood means shit to me. It doesn't matter where a witch or wizard came from, only what they become."

"I know that." She whispered. "It's just strange, you know? People I've been friends with for years- equals to- now only see me for my blood." She hadn't told this to James yet, nor to anyone else. She didn't know why she hasn't told him- they were both Head students, and Dumbledore had specifically warned them to deal with these issues together. Lily had just never expected to actually face these problems. She locked eyed with James. "Last week I caught Fleta Fawley skipping class. I threatened to take points from Ravenclaw, and she said that a Muggleborn had no right to tell her what to do."

James' face grew dark, his eyes hard. "She did not."

"She did." Lily shook her head. "We've had Arithmacy together for years, and that's how she sees me? So I told Fleta that I had every right as Head Girl, her superior, to report her and docked fifty points from Ravenclaw. I told Flitwick she was skiving and he gave her a detention."

"You should have told me. You should have told Dumbledore," James scowled.

"She didn't call me any other name."

"I don't care. No one has any right to say anything like that to you." He sighed, an attempt at releasing some of the anger he felt, then offered a small smile. "It's a good thing we play Ravenclaw on Saturday. Fawley's Keeper, she'll get hell from me."

The fire continued to crackle.

"I'm terrified of the war," Lily confessed. She wrapped her arms around herself though the fire provided more than enough warmth.

"So am I," James said in turn.

"Every day there's something else, some raid or massacre. My dad's already gone," she refused to let any of the tears threatening her eyes to spill, "but Mum and Tuney aren't. I'm safe here until May, and they're the ones in danger." Guilt ate away at her, nasty and confusing. She chanced a glance at James, who sat watching her steadily. Why was she talking to him about this? She'd avoided these thoughts for months. There was no need to open them up and let them become and even bigger reality... yet here she was. And strangely enough, Lily felt better. She held his gaze, continuing. "I haven't told them. I haven't told Mum that You-Know-Who exists, or what he means, and I certainly have never told her that I plan on fighting in the war. I haven't told Petunia that I can't stand to be at odds with her when I know this is how we could end forever."

James moved his focus to his bottle, staring at it yet not seeing it. "I still have my mum and dad," he said quietly but clearly, "Both too old to fight this war themselves. So here I am, the last of the Potter's- we've been dying out for a while now- praying for once that we don't go out with a bang. Don't get me wrong," James said, facing Lily once more, "I'm ready to fight and die trying if I have to, but Christ, I want to live. For them, you know? Be the model son for once on that front, keeping up the family tree after they're gone."

"I have every faith that you will," Lily told him. She really hoped he would.

"And I have every faith that you'll talk to your sister again. Siblings fight all the time- hell, I'd like to punch Sirius more times than the acceptable norm. You and your sister will be okay."

If only Lily could bring herself to believe that.

There was a moment of silence before James continued. "There's family against family out there, fighting and killing, with thousands of innocents in the middle. All because of idiotic, medieval notions that being magic makes us superior. Muggle or magic, we're all the same. All human, all with the right to live and love and be happy."

It was stupid, really, for Lily to scoot herself closer to James. Stupid to want to stare at his face, at his far too pointy nose and far too silly glasses and far, far too messy hair. Lily Evans was a bright witch, after all. She shouldn't want such stupid, silly things.

But she did. She wanted all these stupid things far, far too much.

The thing about James Potter, however, was that he was a bright wizard. He shouldn't believe the stupid notion that Lily laughed and smiled because of him, or believe the stupid notion that she scooted closer and was staring at him, and he really shouldn't believe the stupid notion that her lips were close, so close, waiting.

But he did. She used to call him stupid, anyway. Life works in funny ways.

Their knees were touching.

"Do you want another fun fact?" James asked, his voice low. "The day we became friends was one of the best days of my life. And each time you say my name, my first name finally after years, it drives me mad." And, stupidly, James cupped her cheeks in his hands, bringing her closer, so much closer. He heard her breath hitch. "But I need more than that. I need something like this."

He brought her lips to his (and she more than helped in that effort), moving in sync, hands in hair and bodies touching. A brilliant move made by brilliant people, each in their own search for life and love and happiness.

By the time they broke apart, Lily's hair was no longer in its ponytail from earlier. Slightly out of breath and more than a little light headed, she smiled, a bright beam of light to James' eyes.

"Fun fact," she said, watching his face glow with delight, "I've needed something like that for that for a while now."