Coming Around

Author's Notes: Thanks to my beta Rachel for a job well done!

Additional Disclaimers: The song Coming Around was featured in a movie called Hoot. On the soundtrack, it is sung by Brie Larson. I don't know if it was written by someone else, but there's my disclaimer.

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From the beginning I was wishing that our first impressions wouldn't last...

I can remember the first time I met James Potter. I don't know why it's so clear; perhaps it just stuck there to remind me why I didn't like him. He was the most self-satisfied and arrogant eleven-year-old I had ever had the displeasure of meeting.

I met a girl on Platform 9 ¾ named Bitsy. She later became a Hufflepuff, and our friendship sort of died off. But September first of that very first year, we were wandering the train, searching out a compartment. We had barely gotten twenty feet down the corridor when two boys came flying around a corner, bumping into the walls. One had terribly untidy black hair and the other, two steps behind him, had smooth, thin blonde hair. They stopped about an inch or two in front of Bitsy and me, nearly bowling us over.

I don't understand boys now, and I most certainly didn't then. Such morons, I thought, to be running around on a train for the fun of it.

Potter was, of course, the boy with the messy head of hair. He grinned at Bitsy and me, saying, "Hello, girls."

I'm not sure why, but his tone made me want to smack those dopey rectangular glasses off his smug face. Since I was a reserved young girl, I restrained. He continued, "I am James. James Potter." Here he stopped. I guess he was waiting for some kind of a response. Maybe he wanted us to be in awe? I watched him expectantly, waiting for him to continue or introduce the boy with him, who I later learned was Peter Pettigrew. Bitsy was looking slightly confused at being confronted, her mouth open slightly. Potter must have realized we weren't going to swoon or anything, so he went on.

"Which house do you think you'll be in? Peter here thinks he'll be a Hufflepuff, but I'm a Gryffindor."

"Oh, are you a second year, then?" Bitsy asked him.

Potter laughed in a very condescending manner and said, "No, this will be my first year; I just know I'm a Gryffindor. I mean, it's in my blood, plus, I fit the mold perfectly. Gryffindor turns out the best wizards, you know. I'll be right at home."

This comment made my anger rise again. I've always had a rather short temper, now that I think about it.

"I'm glad you think so highly of yourself," I snapped at him coldly, pushing past him and the friend he failed to properly introduce, Bitsy behind me. I think I heard him say something like, "Yeah. Can't wait to show this school what I've got..."

What a berk. He is miserable at first impressions.

...But then you came to me with something that was nothing

and you kept coming back, boy, you kept coming back...

By fifth year, I was totally aggravated and angered non-stop by his little posse, his group, his gang, so admirably called the Marauders. What kind of stupid name is that, anyway? Yes, each one of them drove me up the wall. Pettigrew, with his persistent, repeated questioning on simple procedures; Lupin, with his lack of action against miscreants when he was supposed to be a prefect; Black, with his odd charm on nearly every girl and his cocky, haughty attitude; and their arrogant captain, Potter.

Oh, God, Potter. He thought he was so cool. Well, so did most people, but he was a bastard, really. He was terrible to so many people! I wasn't bothered too much by them until fifth year, but that was the year when Potter got some new ideas; ideas to fancy me.

I can't tell you why on earth he wanted to go out with me. I didn't see how I was his type at all. I hated sports and feared heights, something sure to interfere with his Quidditch. Also, I didn't fall at his feet and shout his praises evermore, something it seemed he would look for in a girlfriend.

At any rate, he seemed to think he had marvelous character traits, while I begged to differ. I wanted nothing to do with him unless it involved making him serve detention by cleaning out the old cauldrons in Slughorn's storage room.

...Trying to be next to me, I don't do well with flattery...

I had hoped that it would all get better after our fifth year. In some ways, it did. Sixth year rolled around and Pettigrew caught on to things faster, Black was more down-to-earth and Lupin started cracking down on troublemakers. (Well, most of them. He always cut his friends a break.) Potter, on the other hand, got worse, if that was possible. He came to the conclusion that if he asked me out enough times, I'd have to say yes eventually.

Well, I can't count how many times the words "no, Potter" came out of my mouth. He was always there: snagging the seat by me in class, plopping down at my table while I was studying, sitting by me in the Great Hall; he was around so much my friends and I were constantly telling him to bugger off. It took a knee in the gut by my friend Nina to get him to leave us alone at dinner.

He must have asked me out ten times each day, twelve on weekends. It was terrible. He bought me chocolate and flowers and showered me with empty compliments. When his compliments weren't empty, they were either terribly spoken through sickening and embarrassing poetry or equally flattering to himself. It was not very convincing. In fact, some of the poetry he recited, and obviously composed, made me want to fling myself into the lake.

...I'm telling you to stay away; boy, you're really driving me crazy...

It was in April of our sixth year that I finally lost my temper with him in the middle of the common room. Of course, it created a scene, but I had to set him straight.

"James Potter, you are going to leave me alone!" I shouted at him after he asked me to go out with him for the third time in that hour. The common room immediately silenced itself. Potter looked stunned that I shouted something like that; usually I use my calm, exasperated tone. But I didn't stop there.

"Can't you tell that I absolutely will never say yes?! I cannot stand you, Potter. Let me make that clearer to get it through that thick, egotistical head of yours: I CAN'T STAND YOU AND I CAN'T TAKE THIS ANYMORE! You are constantly around me and you'd better leave me alone or I'll hex you!"

I didn't wait for his reaction and stormed up to my dormitory. Later, my two roommates, Alice and Nina, told me that he stood shell-shocked for a few minutes until Black gave him a soft punch in the arm and asked if he was okay.

I felt a little bad, mostly for creating a scene, not for hurting his feelings. Still, I was sure I had done the right thing in laying down the law.

...Still, there's something that you've got inside, and you're trying to show me...

The next few months of school were quiet, but I was in for one of the biggest shocks of my life September first of my seventh year. Potter was Head Boy. I could not believe it. I literally snatched his badge and cast a spell to check for its authenticity. It couldn't be true, yet it was! He was Head Boy and I was Head Girl. And just when I finally had hopes of a mostly Potter-free year...

But...he wasn't the Potter I knew and despised. He was thoughtful, polite and just plain chivalrous. I came to realize that I must have been in a totally warped universe. But I wasn't. Since that day on the train, the beginning of our last year, he was only formal and respectful and kind to me. I started calling him James and stopped coldly ordering him to call me Evans, leaving him free to use my first name. It wasn't a strange new universe at all; it was James trying to prove that he did have redeeming qualities!

...Everything I've wanted, I'm breaking down;

I think I'm coming around...

Coming around, coming around,

coming around...

So now here I am in December, sitting in the common room, seventeen and unsure, just across the room from him. James went from a person that I could never like to someone that I think I might...someone I might like to get to know better.

He behaves better than he used to. He makes a good Head Boy, however much I doubted Dumbledore's wisdom upon discovering James had been given the position.

My friends have been laughing for the past month because I think I might like him as more than a friend... As the thing that he wanted me to be to him before.

Now he doesn't show more affection than is normal between acquaintances. I'm so afraid I ruined my chances by saying no those hundreds of times. I hope not...

...Now I find you're on my mind more and more as time goes by:

All day, everyday; boy, you're really driving me crazy...

I think about him all the time now! I wonder what he'll think of my outfit that day or how he'll feel about the discussion I want to hold with the prefects... I've come to value his opinion. I watch him sometimes, like now. I feel sort of ashamed in a way, like I'm stalking him or something, but I just can't stop thinking of him!

I can't help but wonder what it would be like to go out with him now; this new James.

I've thought about asking him about it, but I'm so scared he'll turn me down in the same terrible ways I turned him down. Some Gryffindor I am, not brave enough to even bring up the subject with him... I feel so stupid for not thinking that I might someday feel that James Potter was worth it all.

...Still, there's something that you've got inside and you're trying to show me.

And every time I touch you it reaches out...

I think I'm coming around.

James has put Black into a silly-looking headlock from behind the couch. As I watch Black and James laugh along with the other two, I realize that I wish James would put his arms around me. He rarely touches me though, perhaps because he thinks I don't want him to, but God, do I, even if it's just a simple pat on the shoulder or grab of the wrist. The kind of contact that once made me gag sends electric shivers through me. I wish that he would touch me more often. If I told him I liked it, he might, but that would be so weird.

Each hour I spend with him makes me see great things about him. His talent, his humor, his ideas...things that I never liked or noticed before. This new James is perfect in almost everyway, and I have finally realized it.

Coming around, coming around, coming around...

Coming around, coming around...

Sitting here in this armchair, I can easily watch James and his friends while appearing to do homework. James looks great when he laughs, as he does so often. His eyes get all sparkly and his face lights up with sheer joy. I wish I made him laugh like that.

Now our eyes meet. I register that the other three guys are also looking my way. It seems as though they have realized I've been watching this whole time. James waves his friends up to their dorm and walks over. My stomach feels a little odd, but other than that, I'm good. I'm cool. I'm smooth.

"Lily, your ears are turning red," James points out to me. I'm so embarrassed, but I've got to act natural.

"Oh, I know." The words stumble out. "Hi."

"Hi. Did you think you were being really sneaky their, spying on us?" His tone is accusing, but his smile tells me he's just kidding around, as usual. "'Cause you may have gotten away with it were we not the Marauders."

I smile at the silly name they dubbed themselves. I say, "I'm afraid I'll never be able to take that name seriously." I suddenly feel more at ease as James grins at me and nods.

"You probably won't. Lily, I wanted to ask you something. I wasn't going to, but Sirius saw you watching us and said it didn't seem like you were making sure we weren't causing trouble, so... Yeah, the guys convinced me to, so if it bothers you, take it up with them."

"What, James?" I say, making sure to say his name, since I heard it's a subtle way of showing you are interested in a person.

"Well, we have a Hogsmeade trip, you know, the last before Christmas, and I thought, well, hoped, that maybe you'd like to, uh, go. With me. Like a date."

I swallow hard, barely believing that it's real. I smile, nod, and tell him, "I think I'm coming around."