I'd Lie

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot; lyrics go to Miss Taylor Swift and the rest to the brilliant J.K. Rowling.

I don't think that passenger seat has ever looked this good to me

He tells me about his night and I count the colors in his eyes

The Gryffindor common room hasn't changed at all for the whole seven years that I have been attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The red and gold tapestries still hang royally across the stone walls, the plush red couches and armchairs still sit in the same places, in front of the warm roaring fire.

Yet the people in the common room sure have changed, me for example, my views on certain things or people have changed for instance James Potter, he's sitting across from me and talking about something or another, but I don't think that old ragged red armchair has ever looked better.

One year ago we couldn't be in the same room together without ending up yelling at each other, me at him for being a stuck up big headed toe-rag, and he at me for not even giving him a chance. But James Potter has changed, his head has deflated and we tolerate each other, some people go as far as to call us friends.

I'll never fall in love He swears,

as he runs his fingers through his hair

I'm laughing 'cause I hope he's wrong

And I don't think it ever crossed his mind

He tells a joke, I fake a smile

And I know all his favorite songs

I tune back in to whatever he is saying; I believe he's discussing his newest flavor of the week, in which he just broke up with. I come in just in time to hear him say, "I will never fall in love," I close my eyes in fake amusement and force a laugh out of my throat, I miss the wistful glance he shoots at me.

I open my eyes to truly look at him; he sits casually elegant in the old red armchair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his arms resting on the back of the chair. His long fingers were elegant but his knuckles bolted so his hands became more masculine, he runs a hand through his soft ebony locks, mussing them farther to make them look wind-swept. I learned recently that this is not an act of arrogance but merely an acquired habit, and I found that I don't mind it that much.

His long nose sits aristocratically on his face, framed by elegant high cheek bones. His eyes are beautiful, golden brown with flecks of green, blue and grey, surrounding the irises. His mouth lifts in and amused smile and a deep laugh bubbles from his throat as his best friend tells a joke. He looks at me expectantly and I lift my own lips in a fake smile, but he seems satisfied so he moves on.

And I could tell you His favorite color's green

He loves to argue

Born on the seventeenth

His sister's beautiful

He has his father's eyes

And if you ask me if I love him...I'd lie

I know a few things about James Potter, I know that his favorite color is red, a tribute to his Gryffindor house. I know that he loves to argue, a proven fact over the last six years. I know that he was born on the seventeenth of March, and I know that he has a younger sister who is ten, and supposedly a gorgeous little girl. I know that he had his father's hazel eyes and unruly hair.

I do not love James Potter; our past carries to much hate and arguments. Although he supposedly 'loves' me he has shown nothing but platonic feeling this whole year. I have lied and fooled everyone but myself, only I know my own infatuation with Potter, and I want to keep it that way.

He looks around the room

Innocently overlooks the truth

Shouldn't a light go on

Doesn't he know that I've had him memorized for so long

And he sees everything in black and white

Never let nobody see him cry

I don't let nobody see me wishin' he was mine

I continue to watch him, he glances around the room his eyes lingering on a pretty sixth year, I turn in jealousy and I don't notice the look he shoots me. Shouldn't he realize that I stare at him all day, and that I have his face, mood, actions, and everything else about him memorized since the second month of school and its now the forth. Yet he doesn't, and I continue to silently pray that one day he realizes why I have been acting so strangely this year.

He sees everything plainly, nothing can be different or strange, there is good and evil, no grey area. He needs me to show him that my whole life is grey area. Only one person has ever seen him cry, and that's his best friend, I hope one day that I can be blessed with that honor.

No one expects that poor Lily Evans has fallen in love with James Potter, and I hope no one will, I hide it so well.

I could tell you His favorite color's green

He loves to argue

Born on the seventeenth

His sister's beautiful

He has his father's eyes

And if you ask me if I love him...I'd lie

I sigh and run a hand through my long mess of tangled dark red waves, he looks at me in concern but I shrug it off with a fake smile, he grins and turns back to his conversation, he doesn't notice my longing glance.

I glimpse down at myself; short at five three, with short legs and arms and a long waist, thin but with appropriate curves. Long dark auburn waves that fall to the middle of my back, milky white skin, with a few freckles dotting the bridge of my nose and large almond shaped emerald green eyes. I don't think I'm ugly but I don't think I look like Greta Greengrass, that beautiful Ravenclaw girl, the perfect Barbie.

James Potter had chased me for the past six years, but that's all it was to him, a chase. I was the one girl who refused to get her heart stomped on by the class player. I am ashamed to say I fell for him along the way, although I would never say it.

He stands there, then walks away

My God, if I could only say

I'm holding every breath for you

He gets up and stretches yawning widely, he sends me a wave as he walks with his friends up to the boys dormitories. If I only had to guts to say it…

"James!" I yell suddenly, he turns to look at me from the top of the steps, he raises his eyebrows and I know I never can tell him the truth, "goodnight." He smiles and replies, "you too Lily," before disappearing around the corner. I head up the stairs ignoring the cries from my peers and friends, I just smile as I pass telling them I'm tired. I get to my room and close the curtains around my four-poster bed. After an hour of aimless staring I finally fall asleep, hazel eyes and unruly hair haunting my dreams.

He'd never tell you

But he can play guitar

I think he can see through everything but my heart

First thought when I wake up isMy God, he's beautiful

So I put on my make-up

And pray for a miracle

I'm shaken wake by my best friend Alice and I gently smile at her before heading into the bathroom. As I put on my make up his face floats into my mind, 'he's beautiful.' A random memory makes its way into my mind and I pause as I savor it.

I couldn't sleep one night, again James' face was haunting my dreams and I made my way down to the common room to stare into the fire. As I got closer I heard a slow melody, I peeked around the stairs and down into the common room. James was sitting on the couch and an acoustic guitar sitting in his lap, he was moving his elegant fingers along the neck as his other set of fingers picked at the strings, together creating a slow melody that sent shivers racing down my spine. I doubt many people know that James Potter plays guitar, but I feel honored that I know.

I continue to fix my hair and clothes, as I take a fleeting glance in the mirror I pray today will be different and that he will notice that I'm finally ready for him.

I sit at breakfast staring moodily at my plate as my friends discussed teenage drama next to me. None-other than the Marauders swagger in and make their way to sit next to my group of friends, and just my luck James sits next to me. My breath seems to catch in my throat as his spicy masculine sent wafts over to me. I reach out to grab a muffin at the same time he does and our hands brush softly, he mumbles and apology through a mouthful of muffin and I nod as my hand continues to tingle all through breakfast.

Yes, I could tell you

His favorite color's green

he loves to argue

Oh, and it kills me

His sister's beautiful

He has his father's eyes

And if you ask me if I love him...

James seemed oddly quiet all during breakfast, but I shrugged it off trying not to get my hopes up. Suddenly he turned to me and stated, "Can I talk with you outside?" It was Saturday and we didn't have classes so I mumbled a shy, "sure" and followed him out.

We didn't speak as we made our way over the grounds to the birch tree at the edge of the lake, it was a monumental spot for a lot of Hogwarts students, and I was slightly nervous. He turned to me and he began to speak it was all fast and I only caught a couple words,

"Lily-like-you-but-you-not-me-so-I –can't-friends-if-want-something-more,"

That's when I realized it was now or never, and if I didn't do it now then I would regret it for the rest of my life. So I took two steps forward and I reached up to grab his face, he stopped in mid-rant his mouth open in surprise. I lifted my head and reached up with my tippy-toes as he came down to meet my mouth and when we were a centimeter apart I whispered against his lips, "James, shut up."

He smiled against my lips before crashing his mouth upon mine. It was soft at first, loving, tender as if we were testing the waters, but it was amazing. He rested his hands on my hips and pulled my flush against his form, and I wrapped my arms around his neck playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. I licked his bottom lip silently asking for entrance and he quickly granted. The kiss became steadily more passionate but we soon pulled away, fire still raced through my veins and my heart was beating a tattoo against my chest, he rested his forehead against mine and looked into my eyes.

"So when did you fall in love with me," he asked his breath tickling my lips, a grin tugging up his.

"I didn't" I replied with a slight grin before pressing my lips to his lightly in a swift kiss. I pulled back and put my feet fully on the ground, he laced his fingers with mine, and we made our way back to the castle. It was the beginning of a long journey, but love always conquers all.

if you ask me if I love him...I'd lie

A/N: Review for late Christmas love…?