It was rare for Lily to fume about anything. She could scream and curse and yell with the best of them, but silent fuming was a skill she rarely used. Like strutting: It was something she didn't really believe in doing but when she did it, she did it brilliantly.
And she'd spent all night silently fuming. How dare he? How dare he treat her like some stupid child who didn't understand what she did and didn't want. How dare he presume to know better than her. How dare he presume any damned thing about her.
Four hours of solid fuming did strange things to a person. Firstly, they made that person develop an odd sort of shield about their person that prevented first years from getting within three metres of them. Secondly, their eyes took on a sort of manic gleam. Thirdly, they developed the ability to display bone deep rage in ever miniscule movement and mannerism they made. And last but not least, any capacity for logical thought seemed to disappear.
So the next morning, she got up and got dressed. She got dressed with the specific intent of looking drop-dead-gorgeous, which meant tight jeans and a royal blue top she'd borrowed from Amber. She was allowed to wear it as well, since it was the first day of the holidays. And since Potter was going home, that left her with very little time to get a hold of him and wring his neck before he ran off to his stupid family gathering where he could be happy and warm and at home. Git.
Lily checked the whole of Gryffindor tower, including the boys dormitories. Which had led to Sirius and Remus, who'd been arguing about who owned which book, to staring at her with a kind of terrified awe. Apparently seeing Lily Evans hunting down ones best friends with the intention of ripping him to shreds, put book ownership into perspective.
She checked the Quidditch Pitch (out the window, she wasn't stupid). She checked the Prefects bathroom and had the great pleasure of seeing the fifth year Hufflepuff prefects engaging in some spirited, pre-holiday groping. She checked everywhere she could think of, except the Great Hall.
She'd wanted to avoid the Great Hall because she knew that when she saw James, a scene would be more or less inevitable. But that was the only place left and she only had five more minutes before people would start catching carriages to the Train Station.
Sure enough, she walked through the huge oak doors and was immediately met with the sight of James Potter, scowling at a jug of pumpkin juice and managing to scare everyone away from him. There were at least six seats between him and anyone else. Lily would have normally taken that as a sign he wasn't in the best of humours, but since she certain she could have killed him with a look, she didn't really mind.
She narrowed her eyes and stalked over to him, grabbed the chair next to James and spun it so she could sit facing him.
James sighed in annoyance. "Look why don't you just… Lily?" he asked, looking surprised to see her. The usual flicker of happiness that she saw on his face whenever she actually sat next to him, was still there but this time it was quickly replaced with worry and anxiety. Not that she could blame him. "Is uh… is there something wrong?" he asked.
"You stupid, moronic, condescending, self-important prick." she hissed. James raised his eyebrows and placed his fork down, turning slowly to look at her. Lily had tried to keep her voice down but a few fourth years down the table had stopped their conversation to watch her. She glared at them and they hurriedly returned to their breakfasts.
"May I assume that you're not in the best of humours?" he asked cordially. She kicked him. She knew it was childish but she felt measurably better after giving him a swift kick to the shin. He grunted in pain but didn't comment. "I guess I can assume then." he commented.
Lily reigned in the acerbic retort that rose up in her and sat primly, glaring at him. A tiny flicker of disappointment registered on Potter's face. She decided that she would be nothing short of affable while explaining her reasons. Mainly because she refused to let him dismiss her on the basis of her being 'emotional'.
"I understand what you said last night." she told him in clipped tones. "I understand why you did it and I understand why you thought it was for the best."
James smiled ironically. "Yeah. I sort of figured you would." he commented, in a bizarrely self-depreciative tone before attempting to turn back to his breakfast. Lily grabbed his shoulder and held him in place.
"But the fact that you, you presumptuous little prat, would dare think so little of me. That you would dare think I would throw myself at you for… what? Cold comfort? One-night-stand?" she suggested scathingly. Lily chose to ignore the dawning expression of disbelief on James's face. Not that she really registered it anyway, with the mood she was in. "If you ever suggest such a thing again then I will personally see to it that you can't walk in a straight line for the rest of your life, do you hear me?" she demanded.
An odd sort of light was dancing in James' eyes now. He nodded in response to the question though. "Loud and clear." he agreed.
"Good." Lily got up and glared down at him expectantly. He just looked up at her in awe. With a small growl of irritation she placed her hands on her hips and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Well are you going to ask me out again or do I have to beat it out of you?" she snapped.
James grinned at her. He pushed himself out of the chair and placed a hand on either side of her face.
Lily mentally berated herself for allowing such a simple act to make her breath hitch. In some dark recess of her brain she also realised that, while with other guys in the same position she had been all too aware of their closeness, with James she was almost painfully aware of the distance between them. The same part of her brain balked at the thought. She was sounding like some idiot girl in a romance novel.
"Would you, Lily Evans, like to go out with me?" James asked her, positively beaming at her. Then again, Lily supposed, it wasn't like she was the only one who sounded like an idiot.
Doing her best to continue glaring at him, she nodded. "Yes. I would."
He leant in and kissed her again. This time, however, Lily had some level of warning and so she was able to kiss back and remain completely upright.
She slid her arms around him and balled her hands into fists in his robes. She heard about twenty items of cutlery clattering to the ground as onlookers gaped at the sight of James Potter kissing Lily Evans and managing to live through it. She even heard a glass shatter.
Funny, she thought, how she didn't seem to care.