When your Stomach Feels Like a Washing Machine, That's Amore

[A/N at the end]


James Potter is many things.

He's athletic, smart, brilliant, and kind of fit. There's this thing he does with his hair that's kind of mesmerising. And when he smiles, I get this funny tingle in my stomach (probably just a gastrointestinal problem, you know?).

It'd be easy to think that I fancy him - really I'm just acknowledging a couple of the better qualities that he possesses. Hell, a year ago I probably wouldn't have been able to think of one thing that was good about him. Now?

Well, I'm clearly no longer short of superlatives to describe James Potter.

So, maybe that's why my stomach feels like it's about to combust and has been churning like a washing machine for about five minutes? Because, really, I should look away, but I must be some kind of masochist for wanting to look at the horrific scene happening right in front of me.

His hands are on either side of Zuzana Devon's (what the bloody hell kind of name is Zuzana anyway?) hips and hers are tangled in his hair. They've been snogging for five minutes – I know because I've been checking my watch – and for thirty seconds of that I've been staring at them like some kind of madwoman. They couldn't give a fig about the raging party around them.

This is officially the worst quidditch victory party. And I have a feeling that it's because maybe I don't not fancy James Potter.

Halfway up the stairs to my dorm – a tricky and bruising task considering the hordes of Gryffindors I am forced to shove aside - – a hand clasps my shoulder and almost throws me backwards.

"Hey, Evans!" Don't look at him. "Leaving already?" Don't look at him. He'd taken his hand off my shoulder and I couldn't figure out why I was feeling down because of it. But on Merlin's beard, I will not look at him. Because if I do, my stomach will start acting weird again. Plus, I may have developed some murderous thoughts about him since seeing him snog the tits off Jolene. "The party just started!"

"I have a thing on tomorrow." I've always been a shite liar.

"Oh…sure, groovy." I could be mistaken, but does he sound a bit disappointed? "Anyway, I should go back…I'm pretty sure I saw Peter trying to snog a lamp. I don't even think butterbeer's alcoholic."

"Yeah, you should go. You seemed kind of preoccupied before…I mean – " And now I've done it. Now I've really put my sodding foot in my bloody mouth. James' eyebrows furrowed and he squinted a bit like he was trying to figure something out. He doesn't say or give away anything away, which means I can afford to stay alive at least. "Right…well, excellent match James. I…well…Night!"

James Potter is many things:athletic, smart, brilliant, and kind of fit.

And I think I fancy him...just a little bit.

Or maybe a lot actually.


Author's Note

Word Count: 494


Written for the Houses Competition

House: Ravenclaw

Category: Drabble

Prompt: [Event] Quidditch after party


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Until next time, Andy x