“Tell me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Tell me.”

 

“No.”

 

“Please?”

 

“No.”

 

“I promise not to beat him up — only punch him.”

 

“Do your work.”

 

“Pretty please?”

 

“No.”

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“Don’t look at me like that! I’m going to behave today. Here are my three things — first, I once saw a game of Muggle football and actually found it faintly entertaining. But only faintly, mind you. Second, I don’t think I’m the most attractive person ever. I think you are. Third, I really, really want to know who you kissed. Please tell me?”

 

“Doesn’t count.”

 

“What?”

 

“I already know you want to know — and I’m not going to tell you. You need another third thing.”

 

“Please tell me?”

 

“I have the strange feeling we’ve had this conversation before now. Let me see if I can remember my answer from before . . . oh, that’s right: no. Now, what’s your real third thing, or should I go ahead and give mine?”

 

“How about we make a deal?” The boy did not give up. “The last fact you tell me on our last day working on the project will be his name and the facts of the matter. And I promise not to pester you until then. Otherwise, get used to my pestering, Evans, because you’re never going to hear the end of it.”

 

He earned himself another eye roll. “All right, I’ll tell you for my last fact.”

 

“Let’s shake on it. . . . You have a very soft hand, Lily. I bet all your skin is that —”

 

“Once more: don’t even go there, Potter. You’re digging your own grave.”

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“Good afternoon, Lily. You smell very nice today.”

 

“Thanks, I’m trying a new shampoo.”

 

“Very lemony. I approve.”

 

“Since I needed your approval, of course.”

 

“Exactly! I’m glad you’re cottoning on, darling.”

 

She sighed. “Here’s mine for today: I find slugs creepy, my bedroom is painted orange, and I want to have at least three or four children.”

 

“Lily, Lily, Lily,” he shook his head. “You make it too easy for me. I want to have at least three or four children, too! Match. Made. In. Heaven. I’m telling you!”

 

“Give your other two facts, Potter,” Lily replied breezily, apparently unaffected.

 

“Don’t be so hasty, beautiful, you’ll hurt my feelings. Now, then, number two for today: I have a soft spot for ballads. Some people love the rock music, but me? I’m a fan of the sappy ballads. What can I say? They hit the spot.”

 

“Any particular musician?” asked Lily.

 

“The Beatles are my favorite.”

 

“You like a Muggle band?”

 

“The Beatles are wizards, Lily.”

 

“What? Are you kidding? Seriously? How come no one has told me that in the last seven years?”

 

He only smiled. “Well, now you know. Do you like them — the Beatles, I mean?”

 

“I love them, actually.”

 

“You love them do you? So let me get this straight: I love them and you love them and —”

 

“Third fact please, Potter.”

 

“I desperately wish you’d call me James.”

 

“Let’s start in on the second draft of the paper, shall we?”

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“Happy Thursday, ladybug.”

 

“Did you just call me ladybug?”

 

“Yes, I did. It’s my new nickname for you. There’s my first fact for today: I love giving people nicknames. And besides, you have an affinity for ladybugs, as I recall.”

 

“Do not call me ladybug, James.”

 

He grinned so widely she was sure it had to have hurt his cheeks. “Whatever you say, Lily, whatever you say.”

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“So . . . do you want to go first or shall I?” he asked.

 

“I’ve written a list of facts you need to check, and while you do that I’ll polish off our conclusion. There’s no need for us to talk,” she told him sharply, not looking at him.

 

“Aw, come on, Lily, I didn’t mean to —”

 

“Don’t call me Lily, Potter. It’s Evans to you. Always has been and always will be. Now if you will please stop goofing around and check those facts, I would be very grateful. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can stop associating with you.” She began flipping through a book, her nose half a foot from it and her lips tightly pursed.

 

“I’m sorry, Lily,” he said softly, his voice pleading.

 

“I don’t care,” she replied, still not sparing him the slightest of glances. There was silence for a few minutes.

 

“You can ignore me if you want,” James finally tried again, a slight strain in his voice, “But you still have to give me your three facts. It’s what we agreed. Mine are that I have grown up since we first came to Hogwarts,” there was a growing desperation in his voice, a desperation to get through to her, to make her understand, “and I’m not the immature bugger I was in years past, and I’m really working on being better and —”

 

“That’s three, Potter,” Lily cut in tersely. “Here are mine: first, I’m only still doing this inane game with you because I said I would and I never back out on the things I say; second, my good opinion lost once is lost forever; and third, I despise you.”

 

He didn’t reply right away, and when he finally did, she was surprised at how deeply it affected her.

 

“That doesn’t count,” he told her sadly. “I already knew that.”

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When he sat down across from her, she had already been at their usual table for nearly ten minutes. He was late — of course he was, she thought angrily. He was James Potter. She shouldn’t expect anything less. At least they were almost done with this stupid project; Christmas break was fast approaching and the semester would be over soon.

 

She flipped open a book and waited for him to say something, to initiate the three facts game. But he didn’t. She waited and waited and waited . . . and nothing. She glanced at her watch. He’d been there for four minutes without saying a word. She peeked away from her book and across the table at him. He was furiously scribbling away on his paper, studiously working.

 

She bit her lip and said nothing, forcing her attention back on her book. But she couldn’t help herself. She said her three facts silently in her head. First, I lied when I said my good opinion lost once is lost forever. Second, this isn’t the first time I’ve been wrong about you. And third, I hate to cry in public.

 

But he didn’t know what she was thinking.

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He was already at the table when she arrived, which made sense, considering she was the one who was late today. She slipped into her seat, aware that her heart rate had just sped up dramatically. She was going to do this. She had steeled herself for this all morning long; she had spent all night tossing and turning over this.

 

She was going to do this.

 

“Hi, James,” she greeted timidly.

 

“Afternoon, Evans,” he replied tiredly, not glancing away from his book to look at her.

 

And just like that, her temper flared to life. “Damn it, Potter, look at me!” she demanded. His head snapped up in surprise. “I’m sick of you ignoring me. I’m not going to go through a third meeting of not saying a single word. So . . . talk.”

 

He seemed to consider her, and for those few moments, she wished desperately she could read the expression in his hazel eyes. Finally, he spoke. “What would you like me to talk about?” he asked. There was wariness in his voice.

 

“I don’t know. Something. Anything. Just, please, stop treating me like this!” she didn’t realize there was a plea in her voice this time. Once again, he stared at her for a moment before answering.

 

“Treat you like this?” he repeated slowly, his voice low. “You mean the way you’ve treated me for our entire lives? Gee, Evans, I can’t imagine how you must be feeling right now.” He slammed his book down. “It sucks, doesn’t it?” he snapped. “It hurts, doesn’t it? When you feel like you did nothing wrong, when you feel like you’d do anything to make someone understand how sorry you are, when you feel like you’d do anything to make that someone understand how much you mean to them, and they still won’t give you the time of day.”

 

She wanted to say something, she really did, but she couldn’t think of anything.

 

“Wait, no! That was how I’ve spent the last few years feeling. That can’t possibly be the way you’re feeling. After all, that would mean that you were sorry, and Lily Evans is never sorry. Being sorry would mean you made a mistake. Lily Evans doesn’t make mistakes.”

 

He stood up to leave. She opened her mouth to stop him. She closed it again. He left.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She wasn’t sure if he’d come to their next — and second to last — meeting, but he did. They were alone in the library as it was a Sunday night and only an hour short of curfew.

 

“Hello, Evans,” he said gruffly, sitting down. “What’ve we got to do today?” She stared at him, swallowing nervously. “Evans?” he raised his eyebrows at her. Instead of answering him, she unfolded the piece of parchment she had brought with her.

 

She knew she’d never be able to simply say it all to him. So she’d written it down. Now all she had to do was read it. “I’m sorry, James,” she read, taking a nervous breath and staring at the words she already knew by heart. She didn’t need the paper. But it gave her something to look at that wasn’t him.

 

“I’m sorry that I treated you so badly for so long. I’m sorry that when I came across you and Snape in that corridor, I assumed it was you who had started the fight. I’m sorry I didn’t think to consider that it was Severus who started it, even though I know that starting fights is exactly the sort of thing he does these days, even though I know he’s turned to them and that you — you’re one of the good guys.”

 

“Lily,” James started in, but she didn’t let them. She had to finish this.

 

“I’m sorry for all of it, James; I’m sorry for refusing to listen to your explanations and apologies. I’m sorry that I’m so stubborn and proud that I can’t always admit the truth when it means hurting my pride. And the truth is that I was wrong about you, James. The truth is that you’re one of my best friends now, and I miss you.”

 

At long last she looked up from her paper. There were tears pricking her eyes. “My first fact for today,” she told him. “I miss you, James. I really, really miss you.” He was staring at her, and there was a look on his face that she had never seen before now. She felt her nerves heighten. Worry and mortification threatened to flood her veins. “Okay,” she gave a nervous chuckle. “That’s all I wanted to say. You can talk now.”

 

He smiled. “I missed you, too, Lily. There’s my first fact. And my second is that I forgive you for everything. And my third is that you weren’t always wrong. Once upon a time I was an ass — a really, really big ass. But I’ve grown up.” He paused. “I’ve grown up for you.”

 

She scoffed but was unable to hide her soft smile. “That’s corny.”

 

“Doesn’t mean it’s not the truth.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ready for our final meeting? This is the end of the long haul, Evans!” he declared, slipping into his seat across from her.

 

“I’m ready. You better be, too, considering that we’re presenting everything tomorrow,” she responded, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

 

“Why don’t you go first today,” James suggested, grinning as he carried on, “Your three facts, please? Oh, and you do realize what the third one has to be as per our earlier agreement?” The look on his face was one of boyish eagerness.

 

She rolled her eyes, attempting to maintain her usual cool despite the fact that her insides were going crazy, that her heart was pumping wildly and that her mind was spiraling away with thoughts with which it should never be so concerned. “I remember what number three has to be,” she told him. “And I’ve already thought of number one: I’ve decided I want to help fight against Voldemort. That’s what I’m going to do when I graduate.”

 

James smiled, nodding his head. “Good. You’re probably going to end up saving my ass a time or two.” Lily smiled too, and it seemed as if they were sharing some kind of moment. Whatever it was, Lily broke it. “But do you have any requests for number two?” she asked lightly.

 

“You do realize I already forgave you, right? You don’t have to suck up to me anymore?”

 

“Don’t make me slap you, Potter.”

 

“Warning taken into consideration,” he assured. “Alright, if you’d be so kind . . . could you tell me —” he stopped all of sudden, seemingly hesitating over whether or not he really wanted to ask the question.

 

“What?” she encouraged.

 

“If it’s not too much to ask, can you tell me the story with Snape? I mean, what happened with you two? Wait, wait,” his eyes bulged, “Snape wasn’t the one you made out with, was he?”

 

Lily couldn’t help herself: she laughed. “No, Snape isn’t the one I snogged, James. Snape and I were only ever friends. And . . . it’s not too much to ask. Snape only lives a few blocks from me, and I met him before I came to Hogwarts. He was the one who told me about magic — who told me I was a witch.

 

“He wasn’t very nice to my sister; in fact, he didn’t seem to be very nice to anybody. But he was nice to me, and he was the first person who was like me . . . he was proof that I wasn’t a freak.”

 

James listened eagerly, apparently drinking in every word. She wondered how long he had wondered about all of this. “I remember when we got to Hogwarts he was so disappointed when I got put in Gryffindor. We stayed friends, and even though he hated all of my friends and he was so mean to all of them — he was always so nice to me. He was sweet, and he was really smart . . . and just the way he treated me — it’s nice to have someone treat you like that.” She blushed.

 

“But we were really different, and we had completely different circles of friends, and completely different interests, and I stayed friends with him, of course, but sometimes the things he would do . . . and say . . . they just . . . worried me sometimes. He was always calling me his best friend; he was always trying to please me, but in the end. . . . Part of me will always kind of think of him as a brother, will love him like a brother, but. . . .”

 

“Ah, Lily, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but Snape doesn’t exactly think of you like a sister.” She swatted his arm. “I’m just making sure you know!” he defended.

 

“I know,” she blushed again. “But anyway, things kind of fell apart in sixth year after that whole scene right after the Defense O.W.L. Do you remember?”

 

His face darkened. “I remember.”

 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t like the things he was doing, the people he was spending his time with, and he didn’t try to deny anything, and finally during Christmas break of our sixth year we had this huge falling out. He tried to apologize afterwards but . . . I just couldn’t get past it. I was kind of a bitch, I know, but . . . yeah. That’s it. That’s the story.”

 

James was silent for a moment, before, “Thanks for telling me.”

 

“Of course,” she answered, smiling shyly. “So, number three, then?”

 

James grinned again, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “Number three,” he repeated. “Tell me everything.”

 

“His name was Clark,” Lily said. “Clark —”

 

“You snogged Clark Tomlinson?” James exclaimed, standing up in outrage. “He was in the year above us! And he was in Ravenclaw! Ravenclaw! And he was blonde. Blonde, Lily. And he was short and rutty-looking! Didn’t you think so? And Merlin’s toe, the boy had halitosis, I swear!” he blustered. “Lily, how could you?”

 

Lily only laughed.

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Cassie bit down on her quill, aware that most people in the class probably thought it was a Sugar Quill. It wasn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. Charms was a dreary class, and she needed some mindless task. Kate Hugh and Grant Stevens were finishing presenting their project on The Lord Marvin of Kent, and she was horrifically bored.

 

She glanced over at Lily, expecting to see her taking notes. After all, they were going to have a test on all of the information everyone presented next class. But to her astonishment, Lily was glancing out the window, her chin in her hand. “Lily!” Cassie whispered, elbowing her friend.

 

“What?” Lily asked, looking surprised. She’d spoke louder than intended, and the professor glared at them from across the room. “What?” Lily whispered a moment later to Cassie.

 

“Why aren’t you paying attention?” Cassie asked.

 

Lily scoffed. “It’s Marvin of Kent, Cas, I already know all about him. Besides, James and I are going next. I’m a little too nervous to be paying attention.” Cassie gave her a skeptical look. She certainly didn’t seem nervous.

 

Suddenly everyone was clapping, and Cassie joined in as if she had been paying attention. “Thank you, Miss Hugh, Mr. Stevens,” the professor nodded at the two students as they sat down again. “Now, then, next we’ll hear from,” he glanced down at the paper in his hand, “Lily Evans and James Potter on Sir Oscar O’Reilly. Lily, James, are you ready?”

 

Lily slipped out of her seat as James did the same across the room, and the two came to stand in front of everyone. James handed their ten foot parchment to the Professor and then turned to face the class with a self-satisfied smirk.

 

“Sir Oscar O’Reilly was born in 1328,” Lily began, “as the only son of Lord Tomas O’Reilly and Lady Catherine O’Reilly in Bristol, England.” She looked over at James. Apparently they had planned it all out.

 

“First and foremost, we’d like to tell you about Sir Oscar O’Reilly’s greatest accomplishment to date,” James grinned. Lily frowned. Cassie was confused. They might have had it all planned out, but it looked like James had already left the script.

 

“Which is?” the professor prompted when James only stared at Lily and Lily only glared back at him.

 

“This,” James answered, and before anyone had time to react, he’d grabbed Lily and dragged her to him, pressing his lips to hers. The whole class broke out into murmurs and exclamations. The professor looked too shocked to do anything. Lily tore herself away from James, shoving at his chest. No, Cassie thought with a smirk, Lily had not been planning on that. Lily looked up at James with eyes wide as saucers.

 

And then she slapped him. “James William Potter!” she shouted indignantly.

 

“Lily Lenore Evans!” he shouted right back.

 

The professor stood up and started towards them, sighing. “Miss Evans, Mr. Potter, now is not the time to —” But he was cut off mid-sentence as Lily reached forward and grabbed James’s tie, yanking him down towards her and slamming her mouth to his.

 

Cassie could only smile and shake her head in disbelief as the two began to snog in front of the entire class, as James literally lifted Lily off her feet and up into his arms, as Lily buried her hands in James’s hair and curled her fingers around fistfuls of it, as the two completely ignored the stuttering of the professor and the wolf-whistles of their classmates.

 

When James slipped his tongue into Lily’s mouth, Cassie decided Charms wasn’t nearly as boring as she’d previously believed.

A/N: There it is. Just a quick piece that I couldn't get out of my head until I wrote it. Please review :)