"Ever since fourth year," James started to explain, when I obviously failed to grasp the humorous concept of ‘the whole picture’, "I’ve had you up on a sort of pedestal, you know?"
"Pedestal?" I asked.
"Yeah," James nodded. "I mean, you…you’re Lily Evans. You’re perfect. You’re smart, you’re nice, you’re beautiful, you’re confident and clever, the professors adore you—everyone loves you—you were a prefect, you always followed the rules, never did wrong…"
I blushed furiously, ignoring the self-conscious flutter in my stomach as he went on and on about my supposed perfection. However utterly and completely wrong he was about mostly everything he was saying, I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t enjoy hearing him say it anyway. I’m only human, after all.
"You," he continued pointedly, throwing me a small smile as I began to resemble a tomato more and more, "were the Infallible Lily Evans."