“yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe i would.”

It’s at the beginning of her seventh year that Lily Evans looks at James Potter and realizes that she’s seeing not just a boy with messy hair and a penchant for finding trouble, but a handsome young man with enough wit to outsmart an entire army of Death Eaters.

Of course, this illusion is shattered when she steps into the common room, halfway through a post-win party for their latest Quidditch game, and almost trips over his prone body, which is for some reason lying right in front of the portrait hole.

“James?”

At some point, they’d graduated to first names, Lily would prefer not to talk about it.

The body moves, then sits up, and Lily looks down at James’ glasses, askew on his face.

“Hello?” He asks, voice slurring over the vowels even as he sways on the spot. “Where am I?”

Lily laughs, reaching to haul him upward and tip him toward the nearest couch, watching as he tumbles over the back and just lies there.

“Had a bit too much Firewhiskey?”

All she gets for a reply is a blank stare, then he rights himself, looks right at her, and says, surprisingly clearly, “Go out with me?”

She pauses, eyes widening. “What?” Lily glances around, but everyone else is too caught up in the party to even notice their conversation. Across the room, Sirius is attempting to levitate four chairs at once as Remus, and half the party, watches on.

“I think … go out with me? Good idea.”

Lily considers him for a moment, then sighs. “If you weren’t so drunk, maybe I would.”

James doesn’t register her words at all. In fact, it seems like he’s actually managed to fall asleep while sitting up.

She rolls her eyes, pushing lightly on his shoulders so he’s at least lying down lengthwise on the couch.

“Ask me again when you’re sober,” she says quietly, before crossing the room to join Alice and Mary in what looks like a really fun game of Exploding Snap.