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Oh, God, there he is.

I fancied him. I never knew why, and I supposed I shouldn’t, but I did. Merlin, I did.

Maybe it was the eyes. His eyes were . . . gentle. Caring and kind and tired, but always with a smile behind them. I would look at him and feel like I could stare into those eyes for ages. And his hair: it looked so soft to the touch. Always a little unkempt, like he hadn’t gotten it cut in a few months. And his lips. I loved it when he spoke (which wasn’t often), just because I loved to see those lips form words. I imagined kissing them . . .

I had kissed a boy once, two summers before when I was at home. His name was Jacob and he lived down the street. I kissed him, and then my sister Petunia told him I was emotionally disturbed and that’s why I spent the school year away. Jacob never came by the house after that, and I hadn’t kissed a boy since.

But I’d have sure loved to kiss him.

“Hello, Lily,” he said, meeting my eyes with his beautiful ones.

“Hello, Remus,” I whispered back.

My eyes searched his secondhand robes for his Head Boy badge. After two years of Prefects’ rounds and meetings with him, I was looking forward to having him around the Heads’ dormitories, but he had no badge.

“Did one of the Ravenclaws get Head Boy?” I asked sympathetically.

Remus shook his head, a tiny half-smile across his gorgeous lips.

“Evans!” called a voice from behind Remus.

I suppressed an eye roll, and Remus’s half-smile turned apologetic. James Potter, loud, arrogant, and irritating, appeared.

And he had a Head Boy Badge.

“Potter!” I exclaimed, unable to help the disgusted tone of my voice.

“Guess we’re sharing a dormitory this year, hm?” said Potter with a sly grin.

“How can they . . .? But, Remus, you were . . .?” I stammered.

Remus shrugged his shoulders. By that time, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew had flanked the pair. The foursome was complete. I preferred it immensely when Remus was on his own.

Annoyed and disheartened, I stormed away to meet my friends. Sliding into the bench next to my former roommates, I could only wonder: How could Dumbledore have done such a thing?

My stomach was churning and a general sense of dread and disappointment had descended on me. Suddenly I realised how much I had been expecting Remus to be the Head Boy, how much I had been looking forward to it. Ever since I’d received my badge, I’d somehow pictured Remus in the Heads’ Common Room with me. Remus meeting with Dumbledore, his expression serious and his lips pursed as he payed close attention to the Professor’s words. I had imagined Remus on the sofa studying, with me on the other end; then, we’d get tired of studying and realise just how close we were sitting . . . his perfect lips on mine . . .

“Have a nice summer, Evans?” Potter said as he sat across from me.

“Fine,” I spat.

“Me too,” he continued, as though I’d asked. “Sirius moved in.”

I looked up to see Black’s mischievous grin, indicating that the boys had certainly gotten up to no good while they were together over the summer. Remus slid in next to me. Next to me. I think my breath caught in my throat when I felt his elbow brush my arm, a ridiculous thing to get excited about, but I couldn’t help it. He smiled at me again and I am certain that I blushed.

The Sorting took place, and Dumbledore made his annual speech. After the Welcoming Feast, I stood to escort the Gryffindors to the Common Room. Several of the First Years looked absolutely terrified. Remus was always very good at calming them down, and out of habit, I looked to my left expecting to find my fellow Prefect ready to help. Instead, James Potter was standing with a superior grin and an eyebrow raised. I frowned.

“All right, come on then, Squirts!” he called.

“Potter!” I hissed.

He gave me a smirk and headed out of the Great Hall, the First Years following closely behind him. I folded my arms in front of my chest and watched the rest of the Gryffindors file out. Finally, with a sigh, I headed toward Gryffindor Tower.

When I reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Remus was waiting.

“Want to walk?” he asked.

I nodded.

Remus and I had become good friends over the course of six years at Hogwarts; it was always when his three friends became a bit too much, Remus found solace in quiet company with me. It started with studying in the library in Third year, and then late night chats after Prefects’ rounds in Fifth. I loved his companionship; finally, someone who would read with me, study with me, laugh with me without laughing at me. Remus was everything Potter and Black were not. And now, he walked steadily beside me, his long legs taking strides that required two of my steps to keep up.

“Are you angry with me?” he asked.

I stopped, turning my head and gazing quizzically at him.

“Angry? What for?”

“Angry that I didn’t make Head Boy,” replied Remus simply.

I laughed and shook my head. Trust Remus to blame everything on himself.

“Of course not,” I answered.

“Good,” he said.

We paused at the end of the hall, and I looked up into his amber eyes. He was smiling gently, as he always did, and my insides melted. The moment stretched on and still we hadn’t broken eye contact. I felt a sudden tension in the air, a sudden desperate wish for him to kiss me. My breath quickened, and I swore I could see his quicken as well. He gazed at me. I wanted his lips against mine more than anything in the world, but I was terrified to make the first move. All I wanted was for him to lean forward, just a few inches, and kiss me . . .

And suddenly, the moment was over. Remus had taken a half a step backward, hardly noticeable, but enough that the tension had broken. I felt disappointed and rejected, even though nothing had actually happened.

I’d only been dreaming about a moment like that for the entire summer, though in my dreams, it never ended quite that way. Remus gave me another of his smiles and turned to walk back to the portrait of the Fat Lady. I followed him, trotting a few steps to catch him. I even let my arm brush against his as we walked the rest of the way.

I, Lily Evans, was hopelessly head over heels for Remus Lupin.

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