I don't own Harry Potter.
A/n: I don't know where this came from, because I generally don't read much L/J fiction. I hope it's fairly good.
Every fiber of Lily's common sense was screaming at her to abandon her fruitless patrol of the corridors and return to the Gryffindor common room, which was comparatively much more comfortable than the drafty corridors of the castle. And Lily, though a girl of strict practicalities, couldn't force herself to climb to the seventh floor and enter the portrait hole. Not when there was a chance that he was still awake with his friends. Stupid, stupid, stupid, Lily thought, scowling in self-exasperation. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him a million times before, been utterly furious with him and his smug face as he asked her for the umpteenth time to go out with him. Stupid, assuming git! He thought his money and popularity could have any girl scrambling to be the one to snog him senseless in the Astronomy Tower at midnight. Well…not this girl!
But why did he have to be so damn attractive?
Lily hated the way he made her feel; because she knew that he was completely insufferable. (Well, not really anymore, he's gotten better, a voice in the back of her head had reasoned but she'd chosen not to listen.) She was not a girly girl, she couldn't stand being out of control with her own feelings and most of all, she abhorred it when she got all…hormonal. There were times when she caught sight of him and considered taking him up on one of his constant offers. But then the practical part of her brain would butt in and she would remember why exactly she wouldn't sink to accepting James's query for a date. She absolutely refused to be like all of the countless girls who had come before her—arm candy for one particularly handsome Gryffindor Head Boy. She just wasn't like that—she was the studious sort of girl who rarely went out with anyone, let alone James Potter. Now all she had to do was remember this very thought pattern the next time he smiled in her direction.
"Bit keen, aren't you, Evans," said someone behind her, making her gasp and whirl around. Damn, damn, damn, she thought, because there he was, and she was completely unprepared (and possibly not entirely able) to curb these—these irrational attractions towards him.
"What do you want?" she asked briskly, turning her back on him, all the while internally reprimanding herself for feeling like this.
"Nothing, really," he said offhandedly, and she felt a stab of frustration.
"Then find someone else to bother," she snapped. "I'm busy."
"Oh, c'mon, Evans, no one's out tonight."
"You're out," she returned and quickened her pace, trying to get ahead of him before her self-control began to crumble. He sped up too, much to Lily's annoyance, matching her stride beside her, which made her stop abruptly and face him. "What do you want?" she asked again, glaring at him.
He stopped and matched her green-eyed gaze with his hazel one, making her feel rather uncomfortable. "To talk to you."
"No, Potter," she said scathingly. "I will not go out with you." Now he looked slightly perturbed, and he put his hand in his pocket and withdrew his wand, raising it. He's not going to hex me, is he? Lily thought indignantly, slipping her own hand into her pocket to pull out her wand. But instead James sent a spell past her, and quite unexpectedly, pushed her backwards. "What are you doing, Potter?!" she shrieked, finding herself in an empty classroom with a very determined Gryffindor. He chose to close the door behind him before turning to look at her again. Oh, damn. All it took was him to look at her and she would find herself with a fluttery stomach and rapidly beating heart. No, no, no, she had to get out!
"Listen," he said shortly, not moving his gaze from her face. "I want to ask you something."
"Let me out!" she demanded instead, not meeting his eyes. He plowed on, as though he hadn't heard her.
"Why won't you go out with me, Lily?" Not my name, don't use my name, she thought. It was so much easier to be impersonal when they were going by surnames.
"Because I don't like you," she said agitatedly, uneasily aware of the little voice in her head screaming, Liar!
"That's not true," he said impassively, making Lily's insides turn to ice. Was he bluffing, or did he, god forbid, realize that she was attracted to him (on a purely physical level, of course, she reassured herself)? "Really; tell me. I want to know. I ought to know."
"Because I can't!" Lily exclaimed without thinking, and then cursed herself as she stole a glance at his face, which was now contorted into a mask of confusion. And she acutely knew that she was coming close to losing it altogether. "I just can't," she said heavily.
"Why not?" James asked lowly.
"It wouldn't work!" she expended suddenly. "I'm not like that—I'm not the kind of girl who just does that sort of thing! I couldn't ever become your 'girl of the week'—it's too degrading! I'm not one for seven days of snogging or—or whatever else you like to do with your girlfriends. I couldn't do it just for frivolity, because then I'd feel cheap and miserable and I won't do it!" She was breathing very hard by then, waiting for his reaction to her rather brash outburst.
"It's not like that!" he countered quickly.
"Isn't it though?"
"Look, Evan—Lily, this isn't what I want. I don't want you just to have you. I want you because I like you. And I don't just want you for a week," he added on an afterthought. Oh, God, she wanted to believe that, she really did.
"You won't feel that way in a month," she said softly, then moved towards the door. He blocked her way out.
"Don't tell me what I'll feel in a month," he said, then, more desperately: "Can't you just try it?" He was close, too close, no, get away…
"I can't," she said, without conviction, her heart going double, moving around him, to get to the door. She had just touched the doorknob when he gently pulled her around to face him.
"You can," he said, and he was moving closer and part of her was screaming for him to get away, while the other, stronger part of her was begging him to get closer. And when his lips touched hers gently at first, then stronger, and she couldn't think of how wrong this could turn out. All she could concentrate on was how he felt against her, of how badly she needed this. When he pulled away hesitantly, she wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her again, to make her feel like that again.
"You can," he said again, staring at her.
She met his eyes, and said, flustered, "I just don't know." Then he kissed her again, curling his arm about her waist and pulling her closer to him, pushing her gently against the wall. And she'd never wanted anything like this.
With some difficulty, it seemed, he stopped and backed away, waiting for an answer. And even though it was against all proper judgment, even though it was the biggest risk of her life, Lily couldn't bring herself to flat out refuse. "I'll try," she conceded, and he pulled her to him for that one last confirmation.