Lily Evans had the idea of a prince in her mind. She had Prince Charming in mind. The man she married would fulfill all requirements and she would have nothing less.


He must call her by her first name. Lily. Really. But it couldn't be that hard, could it?

James Potter called her Lilypad or Evans. Or Darling. Or Honey. He also referred to her as 'his' or 'mine' or 'the girl I will marry someday' or 'the woman to bear my children.'

Needless to say, Lily did not like James Potter that much.


He must be responsible.

James Potter, responsible? Lily scoffed at the thought, remembering a certain occurrence in Seventh Year.

Lily stared at the clock impatiently, tapping her foot, waiting for Potter to show up. He came screeching into the Meeting Room, nearly crashing into a Ravenclaw Prefect in the process. "I'm here!" he declared triumphantly. "And I'm only twenty-three minutes late."

"Lovely, Potter," Lily said dryly. "However, we were all here at the supposed meeting time. That was precisely at ten thirty. What's your excuse for being late this time?" she sighed.

James thought about it. "I don't have one. But," he grinned mischievously, "I do have something to tell you."

"What is it now, Potter?"

"I love you," James said triumphantly.

Lily blinked. What was one supposed to say to that?


He must be studious and work hard.

James Potter did not study (at all) and he did not work hard for his grades… or for anything. That was probably because, being a genius, he hardly had to work to get excellent grades. Quidditch was second nature to him. He was naturally popular and naturally good looking.

Lily found this highly unfair.


He must shower her with roses -- something Lily considered quite the ultimate romantic gesture, where flowers concerned, at least.

James Potter showered her with dung bombs in Second Year and lewd innuendo from Fourth Year onward.

Lily did not like this at all.


And he must show her undying protestations of devotion.

James Potter asked her out on a daily basis of at least three times a day. He said I love you at the most inopportune of times and loved to show off his devotion.

Lily found this highly irritating.


He failed all the requirements. He had met none of Lily's Prince Charming standards.

So, Lily wondered, why was she walking down the aisle to marry this annoying, infuriating, mischievous, playful, witty and prank playing young man?

Then her eyes met James' hazel ones which were sparkling with happiness and triumph… and she knew why.

Because he was annoying, infuriating, mischievous, playful, witty, prank playing and he loved her.

And as if that wasn't enough, there was one other reason why Lily had thrown the list of standards into the trashcan and burned it with encouragement from her best friend, Alice.

Lily Evans loved him, too.

Screw Prince Charming.

James Potter was so much better.