She's thirteen and innocent and she loves the library.
She loves the smell of old books, polished wood, and the silence.
It's a Saturday and she looks out the window to where the Gryffindor Team is practicing Quidditch and smiles, thinking of James Potter and how he's out there twirling around in the air.
So she is shocked when the chair across from her is pulled away from the desk and she sees his hazel eyes in front of her.
"Fine, yo- shouldn't you be at Quidditch practice?"
"Phillips knackered his arm; I had to take him to Pomfrey."
"What are you working on? You should be outside, it's wonderful out there!"
"Can't, McGonagall's Transfiguration essay is brutal and I'm nowhere near finished."
"I can help you if you want."
She notices how he shifts his seat around the table so he is sitting next to her. He looks over her notes and the silence is comfortable.
"The second line down is incorrect. It should read...the proper procedure to transfiguring a shoebox into a teacup is flicking your wand to the left twice, then right once."
Before she knows it, half an hour has passed and her completed essay is on the table before her.
"There, all done." She looks up and sees him grinning at her.
She blushes and says, "Thanks a lot James, you saved my life!"
"It was nothing, but I've gotta go, Sirius will be back from practice by now."
"Oh, alright, see you later then."
She sees something in his eyes and before she knows what has happened,
James' lips brush against her cheek and then he's gone, headed out of the library.
She's thirteen and innocent and she loves the library; but she loves James Potter more.