She smiled at him encouragingly as she made her way across the Hall. He watched her hungrily, as he always did, and sighed heavily as she introduced herself with a smile--his smile. He'd loved that smile for Merlin knows how long, and it didn't seem fair. Why should their Common Room get to see her smile every day?
He looked back at her as Potter made his way up to the stool, and she rolled her eyes amusedly, the universal signal for 'What a prat!' He grinned at her, and turned back to the front, not wanting to get into trouble after being in the school for five minutes. He could deal with Lily being in Gryffindor so long as--
He cradled his head in his hands, watching Potter strut across the Hall from between his fingers. Potter mussed his hair as the Lions clapped politely, and high fived a long row of upper classmen before he reached an empty spot at the Gryffindor table...right next to Lily.
He gripped his wand tightly as he watched Potter lean towards her, saying something undoubtedly arrogant that Snape couldn't make out from his position across the room. He watched the Black boy grin from Lily's other side, elbowing her good naturedly, and he watched, in horror, as Lily cracked a polite smile. His smile.
He stood on his tiptoes, trying to catch her eye, and nearly fell over when Potter put his hand on her shoulder to whisper something in her ear.
He stowed his wand away quickly, but hardly took his eyes off the Gryffindor table as he stumbled up to the stool. The hat landed on his head--this was a historical moment-- but that damned Potter was ruining it. "If only... if only..."
Nearly twenty years later, two young wizards hold their wands aloft above a spare bit of old parchment. "What're you all about then?" One of them asked the parchment, tapping it with his wand. "Oi Fred," the other spouted, putting his hand on the page, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"
Instantly, scripted words appeared across the page, and the redheads nearly knocked themselves out trying to read it.
'Mssrs. Moony, Slithers, Padfoot and Prongs proudly present the Marauders' Map.'
The brothers looked at one another in amazement. "Wicked."