A/N: Okay. So. I'm starting another long-ish L/J fic -sounds of wild applause- No, kidding. Anyway, I got this idea from a book I read a while ago, where the entire story was told through emails, letters, etc. So I thought I'd try to do the same thing with Lily and James. We'll see how this works out. No promises that I won't just scrap the entire thing in the middle of it. And I know not everyone will be into this sort of format, so I promise I won't be offended if you hate it.

Oh, and James is in bold and Lily in italics. Also, whenever there is a hard return (or whatever the hell you call it when you hit 'enter'), that's a new note. Er, hopefully that will make sense as you read.

October 16, 1976, 9:30am

History of Magic

All right, Evans?

Potter, you really have to stop writing me notes in class.

Well, you really have to stop answering them, then.

I—well, fine, fair point. All right, silence is all you'll get from me from here on out.


But for the sake of my own sanity, I'm going to keep writing you.

Merlin, History of Magic is boring. I've often contemplated why that is, seeing as it's about wars and people discovering spells by accidentally blowing their own arms off, and generally interesting things like that….and I've concluded that the lack of actual spell-casting is what does it. At the end of the day, there's just nothing exciting about being lectured at if you don't get to hex someone when it's finished.

Not that I hex people just for the fun of it, despite what some people may accuse.

Potter, just sod off all right? I'm about ready to hex you, and believe me, I'd have a reason.

Knew you couldn't resist writing back eventually.

Do you hear yourself? Honestly, I imagine that if you'd just stop for a moment and think, you'd see just how annoying you really are and it wouldn't come as such a shock that we never get along.

So it's all my fault, then, is that what you're saying?

Right now? Most definitely.

Fair enough.

I shouldn't have made that hexing comment. That was low.

No, you shouldn't. But thank you for acknowledging that.

Right. Well, I've had about all I can stand of Binns's droning—think I'll skive off the rest of the lesson. See you in Herbology.

What? Potter, you can't just leave in the middle of class!

Relax, Evans, Binns won't even notice.

That's not the point! How're you going to study for exams if you haven't been to—oh, never mind, you're not going to listen to me, anyway. Go on, get out of here.

Don't mind if I do.

You're mad.

You're madder. See you, Evans.

October 16, 1976, 11:00am


I can't believe Binns didn't notice. I mean, I know he literally never turns around all lesson, but I thought for sure when you knocked into that desk…on purpose, was that?

'Course it was on purpose, Evans. I'm naturally graceful and poised, you know.

You mean like that time you jumped on Gryffindor table in the middle of dinner to wish me a happy birthday, accidentally stepped right in the mashed potatoes, and ended up on the floor with the bowl flipped over your head? Or when you went to jump out of that tree on the way to the greenhouses in what I can only assume was an attempt to surprise or impress me, but ripped your robes from knee to armpit on the way down? Or the day you forgot to skip the trick step on the stairs by the Charms corridor because you were walking backwards to talk to me? Come to think of it, that's happened several times, actually.

Always quick to prove me wrong, aren't you? And I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that you were involved in all of those incidents? I think that says something.

What, you're trying to blame me for your clumsiness? No, no, I think you're just not quite as 'poised' and 'graceful' as you'd like to think, Potter. Except perhaps on a broomstick. I'll give you that one.

Evans, was that a compliment?

Don't get used to it.

How could I, when this is the first time it's happened?

Well, all I'm saying is, don't—

Sorry, got distracted by this bloody—

Merlin it's hard to write notes in Herbology, what with all the—

Okay, honestly, this is ridiculous! Hang on.

There, Tentacula successfully contained. Now, what was I saying?

Can't remember. Too busy fighting off an attack from this sodding plant.

Like I said, it takes a certain talent to pull this off.

That it does. In fact, I think it should be considered an Olympic sport.

What do you know about Olympic sports?

Took Muggle Studies for two terms in fourth year, remember?

Oh, that's right. And you actually paid attention? I'm impressed.

If I'd know that's all it would take….No, but I'm afraid I only studied as hard as I did because I was hoping I might—somehow—learn something that would get you to go out with me.

It wasn't a dating class, Potter, what did you—wait, d'you mean because I'm Muggleborn? And you, what? Thought we came with special instructions or something?

Maybe. I never said I was proud of it, all right?

I should probably be offended, but I'm laughing too hard to manage it.

I can see that.

Oh, come on, Evans, cut me some slack. I was fourteen!

Seriously. Stop laughing.

I'm sorry. Just…Merlin, you really were desperate, weren't you?


Okay. But you know, if you hadn't tried so hard, if you'd just gone about it all like a normal person….I don't know.

Oh. Really? All right, then. Go out with me?

Are you—Merlin, Potter, that's not what I meant at all!

Wasn't it? You're blushing fairly hard. I can see it all the way over here.

That's because I'm angry with you, you prat!

Bloody hell, I was joking, Evans.

Why doesn't that surprise me.

Although you never did answer the question.

Go away, Potter.

I can't. We're in class.

Well, that hardly stopped you before, did it?

But Alder will definitely notice.

Fine! At the very least, then, will you stop with the notes?

October 16, 1976, 2:13pm

Lily: Ancient Runes

James: Common Room



I shouldn't have shouted at you earlier.

Well, technically you didn't. You just wrote very forcefully at me.

Right, well, I shouldn't have done that. The poor parchment didn't deserve it.

I think it will forgive you.

It does tend to do that.

Which might make it a bit of an idiot, but there you go.

To be fair, it has done many far more idiotic things. Not that I'm going to list them, but it should just know that I could.

Oh, it's painfully aware of it, but thanks you for sparing it the embarrassment.

Don't mention it. Well, Professor Dunstan keeps looking over here—I think he suspects I'm not actually writing his notes—so I'd better get back to that.

Wait! Before you go, just…what I said, earlier…well, it was a stupid thing to joke about.

No, it's fine. It was a stupid thing for me to get mad about.

Truce, then?


November 1, 1976, 7:48pm


It's you!

Hello, Evans—yes, please do have a seat.

Yes, hello. But it's you who's been tapping their quill so annoyingly for the past half an hour!

Have I? Hadn't noticed.

Well, you have.


That's it? You're not going to apologize? I've been going mad trying to read this Transfiguration chapter and it doesn't help that I have to continually start over because I'm distracted by your infuriating tapping!

Merlin, calm down, all right? Your hand is actually shaking, and aside from making your handwriting hardly legible, it's starting to scare me a bit. I'll stop with the tapping, I promise. Just…don't have a fit. Pince wouldn't like it, for one, and—

Oh, don't lecture me, Potter, I've half a mind to—

Excuse me, but I do not appreciate you reading over my shoulder and then rudely snatching the parchment away before I've finished my—

That's because I don't care what you've got to say unless it's—

Well, then why did you write me in th—

To get you to stop it with the tapping! What else d—

Can I at least finish a—

No, you may n—

How did you even know what I was going—

Because I—



Don't laugh at me, you prick, that was embarrassing! I've never been yelled at before in the library, and all because we were behaving like children…

You might have been. I was just sitting here innocently doing my homework until I was interrupted by some mad bird going on about a quill.

You've never done anything innocent in your life, Potter. And if you'd just admitted you were tapping your quill with the sole purpose of bothering me, things wouldn't have deteriorated as they did. Which, all right, I did technically start by stealing your parchment away.

I'm just surprised it took you so long to realize it was me doing the tapping.

Git. Now, will you let me finish my homework in peace?

Probably—no, I mean definitely! Hands off the parchment, Evans!


Actually, hold on—what are you even doing in the library, anyway?

Um…studying? That's what one does here, if I'm not mistaken.

No, I mean, I don't think I've ever seen you here.

Ha, ha. I come to the library sometimes, Evans. Perhaps you've just been doing so well at avoiding me you haven't noticed.

I'm serious! Although you're right—I am good at avoiding you. And see, I was right to do so, because the moment I let my guard down, you showed up with your irritating quill!

Don't bring my quill into this, Evans. I'm the irritating one, remember.

Oh, I'm not likely to forget that in a hurry, seeing as how you're always reminding me, whether intentionally or not. But answer me, Potter—you, library, explain.

Well, this place is quiet, which is usually what turns me off it, but since I've been scheduling Quidditch practices every afternoon, I've fallen a bit behind on homework. Even for me, which is saying a lot. And I know I won't actually get anything done in the common room. So…here I am.

But you're the Captain, so couldn't you just…not schedule practices?

If I wanted us to lose on Saturday, yes. But I'd really rather that didn't happen. Especially since it's Hufflepuff, and I hate losing to them. Ever since Stebbins somehow got Captain their team has frankly become an embarrassment to the sport's good name.

Hmm, yes, I suppose that would be a bit shameful. Well, for what it's worth, and based on my very limited knowledge of Quidditch, you aren't cause for similar embarrassment among Gryffindors.

I thought you said not to get used to compliments from you. Moreover, I thought you detested my love of Quidditch and flying? Made you sick, wasn't it?

Evans? Your hand's shaking ag—

Why do you always have to do that? Why do you always have to bring THAT up?

I—no, hang on, Evans, don't—dammit.

That went well. As it usually does. And now I'm talking to myself. Or writing, to be more specific. Not that the specifics matter, as I'm the only one who will—Merlin, just shut up, Potter.

A/N: Well, there's the first chapter :) They'll probably all be short-ish like this one, because that's how I roll.