A/N: Contains a very possessive, jealous, homicidal Lily, a very scheming James, and a very clueless girl. All in good humor, though.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it isn't mine.
Lily Evans was Extremely Unhappy. When Lily Evans was Extremely Unhappy, it was best to avoid her. That was why she was currently sitting alone at a table in the Three Broomsticks, nursing a Butterbeer as she glared across the room.
When she had first arrived in Hogsmeade, she had been Happy. That was until she found out that all of her friends had dates. Alice had offered to let Lily tag along on her date with Frank, but Lily had already done that the last Hogsmeade trip. Not only had she felt like a third-wheel, but she had been forced to put up with watching hours of happy, cuddly coupleness. Being alone was much better for her stomach, thank you very much. Unfortunately, she hadn't predicted the vast number of couples happily sipping their Butterbeers right in bloody front of her.
She spotted several people that she knew holding hands across the table and kissing as they leaned towards each other. There seemed to be a Happy Couple at every single table. Her nose wrinkled as she observed double dates and friends-who-obviously-wanted-to-be-more-than-friends sprinkled throughout those couples. Feeling oddly compelled, she checked to sign at the front of the restaurant to make sure that she hadn't accidentally wandered into Madame Puddifoot's. As she settled back into her seat with the knowledge that she was, in fact, in the Three Broomsticks, she didn't find that her mood had taken a turn for the better or worse. Instead, it continued to stay at Extremely Unhappy.
Out of all of the annoying Happy Couples enjoying Butterbeers, there was one in particular that Lily was directing her patented Death Glare at. That couple just happened to be one James Potter and one Honey Moscovitz.
They were the reason that Lily was in her Extremely Unhappy mood.
Why Honey? Out of all of the girls in Hogwarts, why had James chosen to spend his time in Hogsmeade with Honey bloody Moscovitz. Honey wasn't even her bloody name. It was Leesa. But, no, everyone called her Honey.
Maybe Rosmerta had accidentally poured a poisonous potion into bloody Honey's drink. Or her hand had slipped while she had been using arsenic in the kitchen. Maybe…
Lily was well aware of the profanities that continued to run through her head and the various death scenarios that had begun to creep in for Honey's not-so-unfortunate demise, and decided to just accept them. She couldn't deny that bloody fact for any bloody longer.
She bloody fancied James bloody Potter.
Her death grip on her mug of Butterbeer tightened.
Honey leaned over towards James, giggling softly at a joke that he had made. Lily intensified her Death Glare. James was supposed to tell her stupid jokes while she pretended that they weren't funny. He wasn't supposed to tell them to someone who would actually laugh. He was breaking their bloody cycle.
If Honey leaned to the side a bit more, maybe she would fall off her chair and break her neck. She didn't have to die, Lily reasoned to ease her conscience, which was nagging her quite annoyingly. Just become comatose or unconscious until they graduated from Hogwarts. Was it possible to kill someone with your eyes? Maiming could be good, too. If she could pull that off, there would be no evidence…
Before Lily could continue to ponder her homicidal thoughts, Alice Nisson interrupted her Extremely Unhappy Death Glare by cheerfully sitting down next to her.
"Hello, Lily!" Alice chirped, all smiles. "Frank joined up with some other Gryffindors to visit Zonkos, but I decided to find you while they had their 'male bonding'. Ella told me that she saw you in here."
Ella Pemberly. A Hufflepuff. She had a Happy boyfriend, a Happy life, and resided in Happy, Happy Coupledom.
"Why are you Death Glaring?" Alice asked curiously, still peppy, as she leaned over to follow Lily's gaze. Lily groaned quietly at this infiltration of her brooding. Now, she loved Alice, she really did, but Alice was a Happy person, and Lily didn't want to deal with Happy people at the moment,
"Ahhh," Alice realized. "James and Honey. Well, that explains a lot."
"Explains what?" Lily snapped.
"Why you've been Death Glaring at Francesca, Marianne, and Kathleen lately, aka James Potter's last three Hogsmeade dates."
"I haven't been Death Glaring," Lily sniffed.
"Lils, Marianne takes the long route to every single one of her classes just so there is no chance of running into you."
"Marianne is paranoid. Remember that time in fourth year when she walked around for a week saying that the Evil Society of Malevolent Flobberworms was plotting to suck out her brains?"
"That was after Sirius Black put a paranoia spell on her," Alice pointed out gently.
"Still…" Lily didn't drop her Extremely Unhappy expression. "I haven't been Death Glaring."
"Yes, you have. Lily, everyone knows when you are Death Glaring. Professor Dumbledore even avoids you."
"Fine. Maybe I was. But that has nothing to do with him. I just happen to dislike those girls."
"You said that you liked Francesca, and that she was a great partner on the Transfiguration project," Alice said omnisciently. Lily wondered if it was healthy to want to throw a very heavy, sharp book at your best friend's head for being so bloody good at remembering small details. She realized that considering she was not male, it probably was.
"That was a long time ago," Lily disagreed crossly.
"It was a month ago, Lils. You started to glare at her after she dated James."
"I lost all of my respect for her for sinking so low," Lily protested, miffed.
"No," Alice said softly, not wanting to upset Lily even more than her statement would. "You were jealous."
"J-jealous?" Lily sputtered, her eyes wide. "Of her? For dating him? No. No, Alice. Are you off your rocker?"
A small, enigmatic smile spread across Alice's soft features. "No. I'm just observing the painfully obvious."
"Are you…?" Instead of finishing her statement, Lily trailed off, lowered her voice, and glanced at Alice worriedly. "Is it that obvious?"
"It is," Alice confirmed sadly.
"Bollocks," Lily muttered. "Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks."
"It's obvious to just about everyone," Alice divulged. "Except…" She raised an eyebrow, and Lily silently cursed her friend for being able to lift one eyebrow at a time. "…James himself." Alice shook her head disgustedly. "The bloody boy chased after you for years, and now that you've finally realized that you fancy him too, he's decided to try to move on."
"I'd say that he's past trying and actually doing it," Lily remarked bitterly as the corners of James's eyes crinkled up with laughter at something that Honey said. "I want to rip every strand of artificially colored hair out of her scalp. One by one by one…"
She clenched her fist and trained stormy green eyes on Honey as the girl tipped back her head and laughed…and laughed…and laughed… What was so bloody funny?
"Lily, you're scaring me," Alice said, laying a hand on Lily's arm soothingly. "Calm down. You look like you want to eat her."
"No." Lily shook her head vehemently, still watching James and his date. "I would never want to eat her. I bet she would taste disgusting."
Alice let out a heavy sigh and raised two fingers to her left temple when Lily answered Alice's rhetorical statement literally. Lily was a smart, rational girl, but when it came to James Potter, all sense of propriety was lost on her.
"Besides, I'm not a cannibal," Lily continued after a short pause, wistfully moving her gaze to a blank spot at the wall. "Do you think Black is a cannibal? Maybe he could eat her. He usually seems to be licking his lips when he looks at people's…oh." Lily's lips parted in a mixture of surprise and disgust when she realized exactly where Sirius had been looking while licking his lips. She hurriedly shook her head to dislodge the number of disturbing thoughts that followed her revelation. "Never mind, then," she amended quickly.
Alice smiled encouragingly, happy that her friend had decided not to feed Honey to Sirius. It was definitely an improvement, no matter how small it was. Her smile dropped, however, when Lily started on another death plan.
"I could gouge her eyes out with a spork," Lily said thoughtfully, nibbling on her bottom lip. "Yes," she agreed with herself. "Yes, that would be good."
"A what?" Now it was Alice's turn to be confused.
"What's what?" Lily questioned, snapping out of her dreamy, homicidal state.
"A wotsit," Alice supplied unhelpfully. "Started with 'sp-'…"
"A spork?" Lily tried.
Alice nodded. "What in Merlin's name is it?"
"It's a spoon and fork put together," Lily explained to her wizard-born friend.
"Put together?" Alice asked, confusion creasing her brow. "Like, one on either end?"
"No. The spoon has points on the end."
"So…you want to either feed Honey to Black or gouge out her eyes with a pointy spoon?" Alice knew that Lily was mad, but this was just a bit too much.
"I would be perfectly happy if she fell off a bridge, or jumped into a pit of quicksand, or was thrown into a cage of flesh-eating butterflies," Lily replied off-handedly.
"Lily, I think you may need mental assistance with your…er…fixation with violent murder scenarios," Alice told her best friend gently.
"I know I need mental assistance, Al, but it has nothing to do with the fact that I take particular joy in imagining ways to kill off James's dates. It's bloody James himself!"
"Fancying people is perfectly normal, Lils," Alice reassured her friend.
"Not when that person is James. James Potter, Al. Potter! I can't fancy him. It's inhumane. Unethical. Morally sick, twisted, and wrong."
"And while everything you just said was undeniably true, that doesn't change the facts." Alice took a deep breath and looked Lily directly in the eyes, struggling to fight down her proud, maternal smile despite the surrounding situation. "You're madly in love with James Potter."
Alice could've sworn that Lily's eyes widened to twice their usual size. Her jaw dropped open as she gaped at the utter absurdity of Alice's statement.
"L-love?" Lily repeated. "Me? Potter? Love? No. No. Absolutely not. Love, no. Not good. No, no. Not going to happen."
Alice laid a comforting hand on Lily's shoulder, squeezing it gently as her friend tried to regain some semblance of coherency. Lily managed to stutter her way back to comprehendible speaking.
"I don't love James," she insisted firmly. "I just fancy him. A bit. A very small bit. The bittiest of bits." She used her thumb and forefinger to show just how bittiest she fancied him. Alice shook her head slowly through all of Lily's protests.
"Lily, you've Death Glared at every single person that James has ever gone out with in his life. Everyone in the school besides me, except for Professor McGonagall, is unwilling to come near you. You are a very scary person, and this is all because it finally happened. You finally realized that you fell for James—hard—the first moment you saw him."
"Not the first!" Lily protested. Alice shot her a disbelieving look, and Lily relented unhappily, looking down at the stained wood of the table. "It was the third," she mumbled. "We were in transfiguration. He turned that feather into a carrot before I could, and I did notice that he was kind of cute. I guess I realized I fancied him in the middle of sixth year…and I do not love him!"
"Of course not," Alice said smugly.
"Stop being smug. It's unbecoming," Lily snapped. Alice, unfazed, patted Lily's hand.
"Lils, you've got to tell him."
"Yeah, I'm sure Honey would love that," Lily grumbled sarcastically.
"He's going to keep dating Honeys and Francescas and Mariannes and Kathleens unless he knows that you love—er, fancy a bittiest bit—him. You need to tell him, or else some day an innocent girl will end up with a pointy spoon in her eye, and you'll end up in Azkaban." She playfully prodded Lily on the shoulder with her index finger. "You can do it, Lily."
"I know I can," Lily said sullenly. "I just don't want to."
Alice sighed again. She glanced towards the window where she saw Frank standing, smiling broadly and holding up a bag. Alice snuck a look at her friend and nodded at her boyfriend, mouthing "one minute" as she turned back to Lily.
"I'm coming back to check on you in an hour," Alice warned. "I expect you to either be gone, snogging James, or in Azkaban by the time I come back."
"I prefer option A, but I'll go with C," Lily murmured. Alice looked at her sadly.
"Stay rational," Alice said in encouragement, quickly hugging a motionless Lily before loping out of the restaurant.
Lily sighed, once again alone. She looked over at James's table. Honey was leaning over the table, sipping a Butterbeer and smiling coquettishly. James was smiling too, but his grin wasn't as genuine as Honey's.
Ha, Lily thought. Take that, Honey, dear. He doesn't like you nearly as much as you like him.
Lily felt newly satisfied. She took a gulp of her Butterbeer almost cheerfully while she continued to watch James's date.
Then it all took a turn for the worse. The worst of the worse.
Up until then, everything had been relatively fine. Not very good, but fine. Honey had touched him lightly, leaned over, and smiled. James had returned all of the gestures. There had been no full body contact, or, even worse: kissing.
That all changed in a matter of seconds.
She should have seen it coming, Lily realized a few seconds later. But to her defense, Honey was good—really good. She was skilled at the art of dating. Her lips were already pressed against James's before Lily could detect a movement.
James was kissing Honey, and there was nothing that Lily could do about it.
Lily picked up her knife and began to jab it repeatedly into the hard wood of the table as she narrowed her eyes. Honey was kissing her James. Her James. He had chased after her for three years! That gave her almost exclusive rights to him! But there was Honey, kissing her man. Hers. She didn't even care that she had spent nearly the past six and a half years avoiding and rejecting him. He was hers.
Lily caught several curious glances directed at her, but most heads whipped around to rejoin an awkward conversation when Lily's eyes met theirs in a Death Glare. Madam Rosmerta glanced over to see what damage Lily was inflicting on her table, but didn't approach the seething redhead. When Lily had battered the table with a spoon during James's date with Kathleen and Rosmerta had tried to prevent the destruction, Lily's spoon had "accidentally" hit her square in the forehead, and she had been forced to cower under a Death Glare for the rest of the day. Nothing could make Rosmerta venture near Lily.
Lily continued to stab at the tabletop. She was no longer just Extremely Unhappy. She was now also Insanely Agitated, Disturbingly Homicidal, and Bloody Jealous. This was not a good combination for the short-tempered Gryffindor.
Honey was becoming overeager now. Lily could've sworn she could detect slobber. Her grip on the knife tightened as she twisted it into the table, pulling the skin on her hand painfully. She ignored it as she continued to watch.
It was like a train wreck. She wanted more than anything to look away, but couldn't. She decided, though, that it was much different than a train wreck, seeing as that you usually didn't want to push a train wreck out of a very high window.
Lily also decided that she must be Scarily Masochistic.
There was slobber. She definitely saw slobber. This was too much. Too much.
Then too much became way too much.
Honey slowly pulled away from James and gave him this small, all-knowing smile. An "I-Know-A-Secret-That-You-Will-Love" smile. Lily didn't like that smile. She didn't like it one bit.
They began to swap spit again.
There were noises. Soft, Contented noises.
Extremely Unhappy went to Tremendously Furious.
The knife made a small, round hole in the table.
And Lily snapped.
She stood up abruptly and carelessly threw her knife onto the table. The pub grew silent as she stalked over to James and Honey's table. Rosmerta ducked behind the bar. Most Hogwarts students slipped beneath the tables to avoid any potential flying hexes, curses, or debris. Poor, innocent bystanders simply watched curiously, clueless to what was brewing.
Now, Lily had an awful, short-fused, red-head temper and usually tried to control it. She could explain the properties of a sleeping draught hundreds of times to her second year tutoring students without clocking one of them over the head with the textbook, although she certainly wanted to sometimes. She could listen to Alice and Karina blather on and on about their perfect boyfriends without suffocating them with the appealing gold-brown rolls just itching to meet her fingertips. She could even listen to Dumbledore's extremely long and pointless speeches filled with cryptically annoying, unneeded wisdom without yelling, "Hurry up, you plonker!" though she had certainly had felt the urges. When it came to controlling her temper around James Potter, though, all bets of any semblance of control were off.
She did have that gut "this is wrong" feeling as she stalked over to James and Honey. Her conscience was anxiously chirping about how Honey was a nice, innocent girl, and that Lily should have taken the chance to date James when it was offered to her. Lily sent a few select words her conscience's way, none of them very nice, and it scampered back into the recesses of her brain. She hadn't been too fond of it, anyway.
This was a make-it-or-break-it moment, Lily realized as she shifted her gaze between James and Honey. She could walk away, and the kissing couple would be none the wiser. Or she could break up the snogfest and feel immense gratification while scaring people, which, she had to guiltily admit, was always a fun bonus.
Unfortunately, the last coherent thought to reach her brain was "make-it-or-break-it". None of the other thinking quite made it. After that, all that came to her was "get her away from him!" She promptly followed that idea, wrenching Honey away from James and pushing her onto the floor.
The whole room was now silent. All of the whispering and fidgeting had completely ceased. Now every occupant of the Three Broomsticks was staring intently at the scene before them, watching the drama unfold with curious looks or winces.
"You—you pushed me!" Honey accused from the floor. She pointed at Lily with a shaking index finger. Lily shrugged, glaring at Honey.
"You kissed him," Lily countered.
Honey opened and closed her mouth as if it would help her process the information. "B-but...he's my date. I can kiss him. Right?" She looked to James for clarification, but her date was suddenly transfixed with his shoes. "Right?"
"No," Lily growled in response. "No. I am sick and tired of Potter picking up his little Gryffindor girls and flouncing around Hogsmeade with them! You have no right to do that, Potter, and you have no right to do that, Honey!"
Honey gazed up in confusion at Lily. Now, Honey wasn't exactly the smartest person in Gryffindor, but she got by. At this point, though, she was exhibiting many signs of stupidity. The first being: when Lily Evans was mad at you, you ran. You ran far, far away and hid for as long as you could. Honey wasn't running. She was just sitting on the floor, indignant and bewildered, or bewildered why she was so indignant. Either way, she wasn't taking the intelligent road, or, in other words, the safe road.
"But you…you hate him, right?" Honey asked. "You're always yelling at him! And that one week, when you turned his hair pink… You don't hate him?"
Lily groaned in frustration, and James continued to display an unnatural fixation with the floor. As he stared at the ground, he practiced his "I'm innocent" looks so he would have the perfect one to help soften the blow when Lily did something Unspeakably Bad to him, which was, of course, unavoidable.
Lily took a deep breath, ground the heel of her boot into the floor, and attempted a level gaze with Honey. Her annoying Common Sense was kicking in, something that she really wasn't enjoying at this point. It was so much easier to made irrational choices without Common Sense. Sadly, she realized that antagonizing Honey wouldn't help at all. If anything, it would only make the innocent girl more confused. So, shoving the Death Glare that was pushing to appear to the back of her mind, Lily began to speak to Honey.
"Here's the thing, Honey: James is not yours. He's not yours, he's not Marianne's, he's not Kathleen's, and he's not Francesca's. He doesn't belong to any of you."
Now James was hazarding looking up to see what exactly Lily was trying to say. As he rubbed the back of his neck, he felt that familiar surge of false hope rise up. Before he could fight it back down, Lily went on.
"For the past three years, who has he chased after? Me. Who has he asked out continuously? Me. I reckon that makes him mine, not yours, sweetheart," Lily explained, failing to prevent a patronizing tone from creeping into her voice.
"It's Honey," James's date corrected quietly, her long lashes hiding anxious eyes.
Lily bit her lip and looked to the ceiling, trying to regain some self-control. She really didn't want to hurt this girl (in all actuality, she did, and would've if she hadn't started repeating the mantra "I am Head Girl; the Head Girl does not hex daft girls" in her head), but did Honey have to be so clueless?
"Honey…" Lily started, then thought better of it. Attempting to explain to Honey was about as difficult as explaining the concept of decorum to Sirius Black (something that Lily had tried to do and never wanted to relive). Even though visual aids of politeness hadn't worked with Sirius, Lily decided to try using an aid to show Honey why James was her property, not Honey's.
Lily turned on her heel to face James, grabbed his collar, and planted her lips on his unceremoniously. The kiss was sloppy with hints of tongue, and was ended by Lily in a matter of seconds. James gazed oddly off into space for a moment before letting out a loud whoop of joy, pumping his fist into the air.
"Mine," was all that Lily said as she looked down at Honey. The girl finally seemed to get the message. She stood up, brushed off her pleated skirt, and huffed loudly as she stomped outside in unreasonably high boots. Lily was pleased to see that Honey tripped over her own feet twice before making it to the door. She grinned wickedly and turned once again. When her eyes met James's, her grin faded. He carefully unfolded himself from his chair and stood up, looking down at her.
"You fancy me," he said simply, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You really do fancy me."
"Possibly," Lily muttered crossly, unwilling to surrender so quickly.
His face broke out into a full, jaunty smile. "You fancy me!"
"By some mistake of nature, yes, Potter, I do."
"You've fancied me for quite a while," he said knowingly, his grin growing to insufferable proportions.
"So?" Lily countered, finally past lying and covering.
"And you just pushed my date out of her chair in a jealous rage."
"It wasn't exactly a rage…"
"Then you kissed me."
"This recap is very nice, Potter, but—"
"FINALLY!" he howled happily. He grasped onto the edge of the table, planting his feet firmly on the ground. Lily realized with dull horror that he was trying to hold in his James Potter Happy Dance. He wasn't successful, as his feet started his patented jig as he shouted, "Finally, finally, finally!"
"Finally?" Lily repeated impatiently. "Finally? Finally what, Potter?"
"Four dates, Lily! It took you four dates! I thought that you would crack on Francesca!" James said, deliriously drunk on euphoria. "You cracked on Honey! Honey Moscovitz!"
"Wh-what?" Lily stuttered. Then her eyes darkened with anger as realization hit her. She smacked James's chest with her fist. "You bloody git! You went out with all of those girls to make me jealous!"
"Of course I did!" James answered, his voice still loud and jovial. "Did you really think that after three years I was going to give up on you?"
"One could only hope…" she muttered, but hated that she didn't hate that she didn't mean it, then hated that her train of thought faintly resembled James's.
"It was Moony's brilliant idea, and I just had to do it!"
Since she had long ago figured out which peculiar nickname belonged to which of James's friends, she questioned with a frown, "It was Remus's idea?" Remus was one of her friends, and she had to admit that she was a bit perturbed that he had taken part in one of James's schemes to date her.
"Well, sort of, but not really. He had the idea, then told me not to do it, so I did it anyway," James admitted. "It was better than Sirius's idea, though. He wanted me to throw you off the Astronomy Tower and forget that you had ever existed. I don't think that he likes you much." Lily rolled her eyes at the understatement. She and Black had a mutual loathing for each other. "Peter's was a very long, detailed plan having to do with many slices of toast, but I got hungry and couldn't listen to the rest. He didn't speak to me for two days after I ate his toast, though." He frowned, reminiscent.
"Although listening to your tale of Pettigrew's obsession with toast is oh-so-interesting, can we just discuss why you didn't listen to the voice of reason, aka Remus?" Lily asked irritably.
"Oh, he's really not that reasonable," James said with a wave of his hand. "Just five times more reasonable than Pads, Wormy, and I put together. Which, you know, isn't really all that impressive. Maybe ten times…"
Lily rolled her eyes and turned so she could start towards her table. "I'm leaving," she said over her shoulder.
"Wait!" James yelped as his fingers enclosed around her wrist. She looked at him irately when he sharply spun her to face him once again. "You can't leave."
"Why?" she asked.
"You kissed me. You were jealous of Honey. You fancy me." James looked at her desperately. "Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that?"
"I'm guessing somewhere along the lines of three years."
"Three years, eight months, and four days," James answered promptly. "That's how long. And now that you've admitted it, there is nothing that will convince me to ever let you go."
"So I'm yours now, am I?" Lily asked sharply.
"Well, according to you, I'm yours, so I figured that it would only be fair if you were mine," James said in a tone far too logically to belong to him. His logic was smothered when he leaned down to press his lips to hers. This kiss was slightly less awkward, and more of what they had both been wishing and waiting for.
"I fancy you," Lily said daringly, mockingly, as she looked up into his eyes. She hated—no, loved—that James's cockiness had somehow spread to her. It must be a disease, she realized, then suddenly didn't care. "What are you going to do about it?" she asked in the same tone, finding herself loving this moment more than she had ever imagined she could. She smiled when James's confident arrogance spilled into his hazel eyes.
"I'm going to take you to every single Hogsmeade weekend from now on, parade around school with you, and take every chance possible to retell the story of your unquenchable want for me and the jealous rage you launched into in the middle of The Three Broomsticks," James answered smartly.
Lily's limbs felt heavy with a contented languor. She smiled up at him, desperately, happily lost in everything that had just happened. "Sadly, I wouldn't want it any other way."
As James and Lily kissed once again, Hogwarts students crawled out from underneath the tables, and Rosmerta slowly stood up. Employees of The Three Broomsticks gathered in awe at the edges of the room. In the corner, Alice Nisson and Frank Longbottom started a slow, deliberate clap that was soon joined by everyone else in the room, even the people who had never seen James or Lily in their lives and were curious to why everyone was so amazed that the anger management-challenged red-head and the cocky, messy-haired boy were kissing.
"I think that it is possible that I might be madly in love with you," Lily admitted as she pulled away slightly, surprised that she was relinquishing this fact now, but loving that she was at the same time.
"Good," James replied. "I'm positive that I'm madly in love with you, too."
"I said that it was possible," Lily corrected, out of habit.
"You said it, but what you really meant was that you are completely, truly, wholly, one-hundred percent madly in love with me," James said confidently.
Lily let out a breath and said, "I hate it when you're right," as he kissed her once again.
As the clap around them sped up, James's arm snaked around Lily's waist, and she smiled against his lips, letting out a perfect, undignified giggle that reverberated from her body to his.
Lily Evans was Extremely Happy. When Lily Evans was Extremely Happy, all was right with the world.