They both thought that they knew everything to know about the other and neither realised how little they truly knew.

She knew that he was an arrogant toerag, that he was vain to a fault, that he was forever hexing Slytherins without provocation, that he could never stop fiddling with his hair and making it worse, that his eyes were a unique shade of chocolate and deep enough to drown in, that those eyes flickered whenever she rejected him and perhaps – but she knew that there was no chance of that. She knew that sometimes she would look for him, but that was simply a survival instinct; if she knew when he was near, she would be braced when he inevitably approached her.

He knew that the sound of her laugh was the most amazing sound he had ever heard, that he wanted her to laugh like that with him, but he would take what he could get, at this point. He knew that he loved the way her hair frizzed everywhere, that she was smart, almost as smart as him, that there was always a hint of annoyance in her eyes whenever she noticed his advance and maybe – but if he gave up now, then he would never have anything to do with her. So he would continue to ask her, and thrive off what little she gave in return.

As he approached, she sighed internally. Such a great day, and of course he would appear. Her smile faded as she waved her friends ahead, promising to catch up to them later. It was past time, she decided, that she deal with this problem once and for all. Perhaps she could finally get Potter off her back. Perhaps he would finally back down from the challenge. Perhaps he would finally realised that his ‘feelings’, which were most likely imagined and a front for his need to conquer her, would never be reciprocated.

“Look, Potter,� she said before he could even draw breath to proclaim his love, “I don’t fancy you, and I doubt I ever will. I will not go out with you, now or ever, so stop ruining my days and go snog someone in the closet.�

He doubted that she had actually expected a result, but as she walked away, he closed his mouth and used his head rather than his heart for the first time in regards to her. Maybe this tactic really was never going to work. Maybe ‘one more time’ really wouldn’t do it. Maybe it was time to throw in the towel. But though he loved her too much to abandon her completely, he loved her enough to let her go. He had to be something to her, and if it was never going to be ‘boyfriend’, he’d try to be something else. In that moment, maybe, he grew just a little bit. He looked up to call out to Lily, but she was long gone.

He hadn’t bothered her for a while now, and she was definitely glad of it. There was absolutely no reason for her to miss their sparring matches, and of course she didn’t. So as she sat in the Common Room, why did her gaze sometimes drift towards the table where the Marauders were huddled together? Why did she have to force herself to tear her eyes away from the messy-haired boy in order to concentrate on her transfiguration essay? Why, when his voice called her name from a point just to the right of her, did she jump and immediately wonder if her hair looked alright? But, of course, he must be breaking this streak of his, so she forgot her musings and frowned as he took a deep breath.

“Evans, before you shout at me, I’m not asking you out. Or proclaiming my love. I mean, it’s not that I wouldn’t like to, but you’d say no, and I didn’t come to ask you that and so I’m going to give up and,� here he took a deep breath, interrupting his uncharacteristic tirade. “Thing is, Evans, I know you don’t want to go out with me, but I was sorta hoping we could still get to know each other, as friends, you know, if that’s alright and I won’t – Ah, Merlin. You wanna try to be friends, Evans?�

An expression he had not seen before adorned her face, and he waited for the inevitable refusal. Only a misguided sense of hope kept him from fleeing as she no doubt considered the best way to refuse. Suddenly, her expression cleared and a wide smile brightened her face. He was thinking about just how beautiful she looked just then when she spoke that one word to him for the very first time; “Yes.�

It was remarkably easy to laugh with him, she found during the months that followed. His knowledge wasn’t limited to pranks, as she had once thought. Most it was, in fact, dedicated to quidditch. He looked adorable when he got started on it, she decided. When Professor McGonagall asked to speak with her, she missed the worried look he sent at her back after she promised to be right back. That was the day her world came crashing down, and all she could think was that she needed to find James. James would know how to make this hollow feeling go away. She needed James, because being with him would somehow make it better.

The portrait was flung open, and he looked up, startled to see that Lily was standing wild-eyed, tears streaking down her face. Without a word, he put down his book and opened his arms for her. She barrelled clumsily into him, burying her face into his sweater. He did not ask what had happened, but he could guess. The Death Eaters were getting more and more daring by the day. So many had already died, and he knew that some in other houses had already lost family members. He did not speculate as to who he had lost. Instead, he allowed her to cry herself out until her body-racking sobs turned into sniffles and then into silence. He did not press her as she emerged, apologising for ruining his clothing. He told her that he didn’t care and she forced a smile in return. She thanked him, for what he did not know, and climbed the stairwell with a mask of calm. He wondered when their relationship had changed as he watched her leave. He wondered how much more it would change as he too went to his dormitory.