Requited

"At this point, I'd give up, mate."

James glanced up. It was very late, and he and Sirius were lounging by the Gryffindor fire. He stirred his cocoa slowly and held it out to Padfoot, who squirted in some whipped cream with a stab of his wand.

"I mean," Sirius continued, "it was only a matter of time. I think she's wanted to hex you for quite a while." James grunted at this.

"But it did involve Snivelly," Sirius added. "So your actions were, of course, justified." He let out a low whistle. "Still. Evans hexed you pretty good, huh?"

James could only glare. He wouldn't be able to speak again until Sirius found the counterjinx to Lily's silencio curse, and Padfoot was taking his own sweet time in flipping through the pages of the spell book he held.

"Ah," said Sirius finally, propping the book up on a table and almost lazily performing the counterjinx. Upon regaining his voice, James said a swearword and drained the rest of his cocoa.

"I'm not giving up," he said sourly. "I've just hit a rough spot, is all."

"I'll say." Sirius eyed the hex marks up and down James's arms. "The oozing welts she's just given you don't, oh, I don't know, make you like her slightly less, Prongs?"

"She was defending stupid Snivellus."

"And that makes it better?"

"It just means I have to try harder."

Sirius shrugged. "Pity," he said mildly. Especially since this time it was dear old Snape who'd gone after you first, and you were just retaliating."

"Exactly!" James rumpled his hair in frustration. "Exactly. Evans hexed me to kingdom come before I could fight back, and Snivelly's running around unharmed. Not to mention we've got Herbology with the effing Slytherins tomorrow morning, and I won't be able to hex him in front of her; then she really won't go out with me." He thought about this. "Plus, she might hex me again," he added, glancing down at the sores on his arms.

"Well, Prongs," said Sirius, with a yawn and a stretch, "not that it isn't fun, analyzing Lily Evans's every action, but I need a bit of shut-eye."

"I suppose I do, too," said James. "It's going to take every bit of strength I have to keep from jinxing Snape off the face of the earth tomorrow morning."

Once in bed, found that he couldn't sleep, and not only because of Wormtail's snoring. He played with the Snitch he'd nicked for a while, his mind swimming with thoughts of Lily. If only she'd go out with him, just go out with him once, he could show her that he wasn't as big a prat as she seemed to think. If things got desperate enough, he could even lay off Snivellus for a while.

Bet she fancies Padfoot, James thought, flopping over on his side and peeking at his fellow Gryffindor though the bed hangings. He was sleeping with his mouth open and murmured something about pineapple crumb cake every so often.

With every ounce of strength that he had, James forced any thoughts of self-pity out of his mind. He would show Lily Evans tomorrow in Herbology just what a decent sort of fellow he could be.

"What's eating him?"

Remus looked inquiringly at Sirius over his porridge. James had just stomped wordlessly into breakfast, casting dark looks at the rest of the Marauders.

"Moony." Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Why do you even ask anymore?"

"Is he upset about the Transfiguration test today?" squeaked Peter worriedly. "Because I am, too, we're supposed to get our badgers to sprout wings, but I--"

"Evans!" said Sirius incredulously, his eyebrows raised at Wormtail's panic over Transfiguration. "He's upset about Evans!"

As if on cue, the Marauders saw Lily appear in the doorway to the Great Hall and take a seat at the opposite end of the table. The way James's eyes lit up when he saw her was a slightly pathetic thing to witness.

When Lily started out the door for Herbology a while later, James jumped up and started after her. Sirius stood to follow, but Remus grabbed his friend by the back of the cloak.

"Let him go, Padfoot," he said wisely. "This time, let him go alone."

Sirius lowered himself into the chair again, but it was clear that he wasn't happy.

"Evans! Hey, Evans!"

She was marching, shoulders squared, towards Greenhouse Four, and she was also pointedly ignoring him. James sprinted down the steps and across the sweeping Hogwarts lawn to fall into step beside her. He was panting slightly.

"Evans," he said, nodding at her.

"Potter," she replied evenly, keeping her eyes on the greenhouse, which was still several yards away.

"I wanted to apologize about yesterday," said James. He rumpled his hair and cleared his throat. "I think you walked in on that situation at the wrong time, and I--"

"No, you didn't," Lily interrupted. James blinked.

"Aah, why won't you just give me a chance, Evans?" he said. "How can I prove to you that I'm decent?"

She pointed, and both of them stopped short. "You want a chance? You got it."

Severus Snape had already arrived at the greenhouse for class and was immersed in a book called The Dark Arts: What You Never Knew. James's fists clenched and unclenched instinctively. He gripped his wand.

James considered this for a moment. He could use this opportunity to show Lily what an upstanding kind of guy he was. He could show her that he really did know how to practice self-control and that he was good and fair and all the rest of the innocuous adjectives that the Sorting Hat attributed to Gryffindors.

...Nah.

James strode forward towards Snape, wand at ready. He stopped short again upon hearing Lily's voice.

"I'll hex you again, Potter, you know I'll do it."

James turned to look at her; there was a swishy willow wand dangling from his fingers and a dangerous grin on his face.

"POTTER! GIVE THAT BACK TO ME RIGHT THIS--"

"Impedimentia!" Severus Snape had spotted them and was on his feet, book tossed aside. James leaped out of harm's way, yanking Lily with him, and they rolled several feet. A brief struggle for her wand ensued.

"Give--me--my--wand--you--git--"

"I don't have it anymore!" said James in a pained voice. Lily had him around the neck, and Snape was advancing, looking quite amused at James's predicament. A group of four curious first years on their way to Care of Magical Creatures had stopped to watch.

"Well, well, well," said Snape, looking down his nose at James and Lily. James, still in Lily's headlock, made a few futile gropes for his own wand--where was it?-- and let his arms drop uselessly to his sides. "Potter... and Evans. I see your luck with her hasn't improved much," he sneered.

"Hey," said one of the first years, picking up Lily's nearby wand and peering good-naturedly at them. "Is this your--"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" yelled Snape, and both Lily's and the first year's wand flew into his hands. The first year was thrown backwards and his friends stared at Snape in horror. He brandished the three wands at the two on the ground, and Lily released James from her headlock. He could now feel his wand in his back pocket, but feared reaching for it, lest he or Lily get hexed. Snape noticed it as well, and reached over and snatched it up. Four wands.

He began to circle them, hawklike. The first years stood frozen in place.

"Interesting situation, this," said Snape almost conversationally. His voice was as oily as his hair. "There are so many possibilities. I could send you to the bottom of the lake with the squid... or I could knock you out and lock you in the broom shed..." He paused and seemed to consider this. "Never mind, Potter would enjoy that too much." He smirked and continued his slow circling.

"This is all your fault," said Lily under her breath.

"If they rescue us from the broom shed in time, will you go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?"

"That is enough!" shouted Snape. The first years flinched. James looked bored.

"If you're going to hurt us, Snivelly, you might as well go ahead," he said calmly. Snape's teeth were bared into a horrible grin.

"How sweet," he said. "Trying to look brave in front of a Mudblood."

James lunged. A stream of jinxes spilled from Snape's mouth; James ducked and dove for his ankles. He could feel himself sprouting small tentacles--one of Snape's jinxes had hit him--and the knot of first years let out a battle cry and leaped upon Snape's back. Lily scrambled to her feet and plucked the four wands from his grasp.

She distributed them to their owners, withholding Snape's, and the six of them stood over Snape triumphantly.

"How the tables have turned," squeaked a first year in a superior voice. James and Lily exchanged amused glances.

"Yes, they have," replied Snape, "haven't they?" Quick as a flash, he had the nearest first year in a vicelike grip and seized her wand. "If you make one move," he panted, "I'll hex her." His black eyes darted back and forth between Lily and James.

"This is still all your fault," said Lily, shooting James a poisonous look. "Prat," she added audibly. Any trace of the humor in her eyes from seconds before had disappeared completely.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking!" James's eyes left Snape for a moment and he looked at the first year steadily. Her face was filled with fear but she followed James's gaze to the six inches of bare arm beneath her neck, and without hesitation she sunk her teeth into it.

"OW!"

The first year scrambled backwards upon being released and James and Snape raised their wands to strike-- James let out a groan of frustration; the first years were in the line of fire; "MOVE!" he bellowed--

"What's the matter, Potter?" said Snape. "Too noble to hex a first year?"

"I suppose I am," James started to say, but he was already stunned. And crumpled in a heap on the cool spring grass, a trickle of blood creeping out from under his dark hair, was a different James to Lily Evans. It was that day that she began to see this boy in a new light.

"Mr. Potter. Mr. Potter!"

James opened his eyes to see Madam Pomfrey holding a flask of steaming potion. Or, rather, a very blurry version of Madam Pomfrey holding a flask of steaming potion. He reached blindly for his glasses on the nightstand and jammed them onto his face.

"Drink up, Mr. Potter, you took quite a spill back there," she said, pressing the flask into his hands. "Stunned and a head injury to boot!" She surveyed his wounds disapprovingly and straightened his sheets.

As was expected of a Quidditch star, James was a frequent occupant of the Hogwarts hospital wing. He knew the drill. He handed the empty flask to Madam Pomfrey, she checked his injury beneath the bewitched bandage and said "It should be healed in a hour or two; no visitors, young man" and whisked from the room.

James reached into his pocket and pulled out a small mirror. "Sirius," he said clearly, and the view of the inside of someone's cloak pocket materialized. He tapped hard on the glass. "Sirius!"

"What happened to you?"

"Long story," said James. "It involves Evans, Snape, a lot of random first years, and intense humiliation from stupidly playing the Gryffindor stereotype."

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "So what d'you want? You want me to hex Snivellus?"

"You read my mind," said James. He opened his mouth to suggest a few hexes, but a faint cough from the doorway of the hospital wing caught his attention.

"Evans?"

Sirius looked surprised. "Evans?" he said incredulously. "Evans is there? Did Snape get her, too?"

"I don't know why she's here," said James honestly. "Listen, Padfoot, I'll--I'll see you." Sirius gave a small salute and James pocketed the two-way mirror. There was an awkward silence.

"So," said James, eying her wand uneasily. Was she here to jinx him again?-- "why are you here, exactly?"

Lily approached his bedside and handed him his wand.

"You left this," she said. "I thought you might want it back." She bit her lip and looked at his bandage. The next sentence came out rushed. "And I--well, I just wanted to tell you that I respect you for what happened this morning."

James could hardly believe his ears. His stomach was doing backflips, just like they described in the romance novels he sometimes caught his mother reading. The sunshine streaming in through the window beside his bed glinted on her red hair. James found that he wanted to touch it.

"Thanks!" He was grinning like an idiot. James knew he looked stupid, but realized that he didn't actually care. So being the stereotypical Gryffindor pays off sometimes, he thought smugly. Take that, Snivellus.

Lily extended a hand. "Friends?"

He shook it. "Friends." James didn't let go. "Would this be a bad time to ask you about Hogsmeade again?" She paused to consider this.

"Yes," she decided. "Horrid timing, I'd say." She removed her hand from his and crossed her arms, but there was a half-smile on her face. "However, you have a head injury. You are excused. And under normal conditions, I'm sure I'd agree to go to Hogsmeade with you."

Several crazed urges rushed him at once. He wanted to do a victory dance, make a smug remark, kiss her, or open the window and jump out it from shock all at the same time.

"What I hear you saying," said James slowly--he was still making an effort to override the mad urges in his own head-- "is that you will go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend, and not that you would rather date the giant squid, or eat a pair of Wormtail's socks, or stick your head in a toilet?"

But Lily was already on her way out the door, laughing at the astonished look on James's face. "I'll see you later, James," she called, marking the first time he'd ever heard her use his first name. It sounded foreign on her tongue, but he thoroughly enjoyed it.

James didn't know, of course, that that day in the hospital wing was just the start to something much bigger than them. That the short interlude in the hospital wing on a clear day in March was the merest shadow of the beginning of what some would call the greatest story ever told.

It wouldn't have mattered to him anyway. All he could think of was the Hogsmeade weekend ahead, and a redheaded girl called Lily Evans.