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If fifth-year Lily Evans could see seventh-year Lily Evans right now, she would most likely scream at her older counterpart until her voice was completely gone. She might vomit, too. There’s always a chance, (seventh-year) Lily mused.
The reason for this probable screaming was due to the fact that Lily Evans was sitting at the Gryffindor table, next to James Potter, (which was horrible enough), and she was talking to him. Willingly! And smiling, and laughing, and definitely not looking at his rather fit arms. Nope. Not at all.
And if she was, it's not like it was a crime. James was fit, really, really, fit, and it was more of a fact than anything else. Lily is not blushing, thank you Marlene.
Even if James had rather matured and become less of an annoying, arrogant toerag, he was still, well, James Potter. And Lily Evans hated James Potter. She hated his stupid laugh and his stupid smile and the stupid way he mussed up his hair cause he thought it looked good. (It did.) She hated his stupid arms and his stupid abs and his stupid heart of motherfucking gold, and she hated him, hated him, hated him.
Sirius told her, after staying up all night with him in the common room, that he doesn’t think he loves anyone more than he loves James. Not even Remus, even though that love is different and special for only them. Lily told him that she thinks she’s the same. Sirius looked up at her and grinned in that awfully charming way of his and said that he knew she’d come around eventually. Lily replied that she had no idea what he’d meant.
Now, she sat next to James Potter and he told a joke about Nearly Headless Nick and the Bloody Baron getting it on, and she’s sure fifth-year Lily would have called him a disgusting brute, but seventh-year Lily nearly fell out of her seat from laughter.
Across the table, Sirius caught her eye and wiggled his eyebrows. He looked fucking ridiculous, and she made sure to tell him so. After saying a quick Lily-Flower, you wound me! Sirius got up from the table, Remus, Peter, and Marlene in tow.
Leaving Lily and James alone.
Sirius was a fucking asshole, Lily decided. However, she didn’t get up to move. Instead, she asked James about his Quidditch game this Saturday. Marlene would call her a loser. Remus would call her in love, which was arguably worse and much more offensive.
It was just…well, James was so James, and Lily was so Lily, so she had to ask! She would never ask him just to hear him keep talking. Or so that she could stare into his eyes longer.
Godfuckingdamnit, Sirius was right.
But they needed to get to class, and it wouldn’t be such a horrible idea for them to walk together, seeing as how they both have Transfiguration, and they could pick their seats this year, so maybe she could sit near him, and maybe…
That was enough daydreaming, fifth-year Lily said stubbornly in her head. Hurry up.
So Lily stood up to go walk to class, but something stopped her, almost a tether. A tether attached to her hand. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Sighing, Lily traced her eyes along the line of her arm until she reached…another arm?
The ones she had recently been dreaming about, in fact.
Meeting the eyes of a rather baffled looking James Potter, Lily Evans realized with horror, (and some sort of extreme glee) that she had been holding hands with James for most of, if not all, of breakfast.
It was a warm, almost comforting weight that wasn’t unwelcome. At all. He grasped her thumb a bit tighter, almost like he was asking her not to let go.
Well. Too late to stop now, she supposed.
Tugging his arm, she grinned at him. Hurry up, Potter, or we’re gonna run into the Bloody Baron and Nick doing something I’d rather not see.
James laughed. It was a beautiful sound.
Grasping each other’s hands, they ran all the way to Transfiguration, and Lily privately thought to herself that she hadn’t been quite so happy in a very long time.
Fifth-year Lily began to scream in the distance.