I despise Mondays. A Monday morning? Well that's the time for picking up an axe and … well, you get the idea. There's nothing that you can likeabout Mondays unless you're Hestia. A Monday morning for Hestia means waking up early, going to Quidditch Practice, eating toast and snogging her latest beau in the middle of the Great Hall. A Monday morning for me? Dragging myself out of bed early despite my body's protests, feeding my owl, dragging Hestia out of the shower, blagging my way out of going to watch her play Quidditch, slinking down to the Great Hall, drinking orange juice -food is not stomach able until eleven, when there is no food being served so I raid my chocolate stash- and being sent another letter. Why are letters such a bad thing? Two words. James. Potter.

Every Monday morning I receive a letter with the same message written on it, 'Go out with me?', signed Potter and spelled to announce said message on opening whether I like it or not. There is one good thing about Monday mornings of course. James Potter gets detention for the rest of the week for 'disturbing the peace and quiet so purposefully placed in the Hall'. Good old McGonagall. Sometimes I don't know what I'd do without her.

Hestia thinks I'm mad of course. Who wouldn't want a date with James Potter? Cheeky, good-looking, a chaser and a marauder to boot, most girl's dream. Shame I'm not most girls then. Hestia means well, but sometimes I wonder quite why we're best friends. Maybe it's the height thing. Hestia and I stand at a rather meek 5ft (we both claim 5ft 2, no one ever believe of us) so were buddied up in every class. She was a pureblood, so I thought she'd be snobbish and want nothing to do with me. Hestia never spoke to me, so I assumed I was right. How wrong I was! Eventually I realised it was because she was incredibly shy, and we ended up becoming so close we're now 'the twins' of Hogwarts.

Of course, everything changed in fifth year. Hestia came back to Hogwarts minus the frizzy hair, bunches and acne, and had become an absolute babe. She was still short, but she was sexy as hell and had had some kind of confidence kick. Needless to say I was gob smacked, along with the rest of the student body. Thrilled, but surprised. Then she went on a date with a seventh year and her popularity soared. Hestia has taught me a lot, from how to apply makeup without looking like a clown to how to walk so guys notice you. Did I mention how amazing she is?

Back to Mondays though.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-CRASH!

Ah, peace and quiet. Whoever invented alarm clocks needs a good kick up the arse, especially since it isn't needed. The Summer break is amazing, weeks and weeks of sun (theoretically), rain (9 times out of ten), lie-ins (non-existent since my beloved mother likes setting my alarm clock) and Potter-free adventures (whoo!).

"Lily! Lily honey, I need you to get up! I have to go into work early but I promised to take care of the Caddens!"

Ugh, speaking of my beloved mother. She means well, but Rose Evans always takes on too much and leaves me with the mess. She doesn't even try Tuney anymore, her precious Petunia has a boyfriend and a life, so her little Lily-pop has to deal with the fallout. Great.

"Mmmf-hugh-de-floo." That was supposed to be, 'mother, tell them to get a babysitter'. Oh well, it's amazing what a duvet can do to simple English language. I don't normally argue about taking care of the neighbourhood kids when mum has to work -she's a teacher and volunteers at the local hospital- but the Caddens are an exception. Twin baby girls and triplet toddler boys are a nightmare most days, but when coupled with a morning they become unbearable and unmanageable.

A cool hand grasps my left ankle and pulls, leaving me on the floor and my lovely warm duvet on the bed. I cling to it desperately, shaking my head at the red haired woman stood before me. "Later mum, sleep now!" I whine, but she doesn't look all that impressed. One death look and several threats later, I am showered, changed and sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee. At 7. In the morning. Kill me now!

"Remind me why I'm here again?"

"Because I'm your mother and you love me."

"No seriously."

"Because I will make you spend the next six weeks with Petunia unless you do this for me. It's only for a day every week Lily!"

"WHAT?"

She did not mention that part. I thought this was a one off, not an every-Monday-morning thing. Okay, as much as I love my mother I may have to murder her.

A knock on the door interrupts my plans and I groan. As mum goes to answer it, I look for anything I could use for leverage against the toddlers. Maybe that jar of sugar would pacify them until I found a babysitter to cover for me while I returned to my wonderful bed.

"Lily, there's a boy here!"

"There should be three, they're triplets right?"

"No, it isn't the Caddens! He says he's here to talk to you?"

A boy? Here to talk to me? No one knows I live here, we moved out of Spinner's End last June and have had no contact with anyone of the male species aged seventeen since doing so. Intrigue pulls me out of my comatose state on the table, and I move to stand beside mum in the door. He has his back to me, but I can see a glimpse of black hair, pale skin and a very fit body… Mmm, I may not know who he is but I sure am going to soon if I have things my way. He turns around and smiles at me, causing my world to implode.

"Morning Lily."


Authors note: Okay, so this is my first every Lily/James fanfiction, and my first time writing in first person as Lily. I don't have a beta so excuse any mistakes. I wrote this on a whim over the last half hour and thought I could develop it, so here goes! My next update for this story will be ... I have no idea. I will try and do regular updates every Monday (think of them as my way to cheer Lily up) but there may be the odd one during the week as school broke up last week and I have nothing to do until September. This chapter is quite short, I promise my others will be longer. I just wanted to introduce Lily and her way of thinking without giving away my ideas for the plot.