"Hey, James."
A Gryffindor first-year stopped James Potter, now in his seventh year, who was sitting on the library windowsill reading.
"What?"
"Can you teach me how to pronounce this spell?" The first-year held out the book in his hands to James.
"Why should I teach you?" James asked, baffled.
"You're a prefect. Aren't prefects supposed to have the best grades?" the first-year said as if it were obvious.
Many athletes did not wear glasses, but James was an exception, though he personally found them rather troublesome when searching for the Golden Snitch.
James did not send the first-year away. Instead, he impatiently took the book the boy offered him.
However, he seemed to have run into trouble.
How difficult could a first-year's question possibly be?
Pomona shook her head to herself.
"Let me see."
Lily suddenly appeared behind James and snatched the book from his hands.
The first-year looked blankly at James, then at Lily.
"Her grades are much better than mine," James said indifferently, picking up his own book again.
Then the first-year chased after the female prefect to ask his questions.
Before long, his problem seemed to be solved, and he ran off with his book.
Lily walked over to James. One hand rested on his shoulder while the other flipped through the book in his hands. She looked as though she was both fooling around and explaining something to him.
"Finally." Pomona heard a girl at a nearby table say unfriendly, "She still ended up with Potter."
"I told you Sirius wouldn't like her." Another girl at the table wrinkled her nose as if she smelled rotten garlic, though there was a smile at the corner of her lips. "At least she has some self-awareness."
"That's what a truly clever person does." The third girl scribbled