Disclaimer: if you recognize it, I don't own it.
James Potter swore. It should have been a great day. He had quidditch today. The game was in an hour, and against Slytherin. A great prank on Sirius would be done today. It was beautiful outside. It was a full moon tonight. It was his birthday. It wasn't a Hogsmeade day, and Professor Dumbledore still had his invisibility cloak, but he wasn't even in detention. It would have been a great day except for one small thing.
His enemy was sitting on his bed.
Now, one thing you must understand dear reader. James Potter doesn't have enemies. He just…doesn't. It's something about him. People may think he is a big headed arrogant git, but he doesn't have enemies. Except for Snivelus. But he is a special circumstance, and he didn't, doesn't, and will never count on the enemy list. Anyways, there was no way Snivelus could have been up here, for not only did Snivelus not know the password to Gryffindor tower, there were no grease marks on his bed.
No, this was a different sort of enemy.
The sort of enemy that had given James a paper cut. The letter-from-Lily-Evans sort of enemy. It hadn't actually given James a paper cut yet, but once it was picked up, it surely would. And the blood would fall, and he would have no blood and therefore die, unable to play quidditch.
As said, it was his enemy.
However, if James leaned over ever-so-slightly he might just be able to read the parchment without actually touchi-
Damn.
He had fallen on his enemy.
Although, it wasn't hurting him. No heart attack, he was still able to breathe…he didn't even feel a warm pool of blood underneath him. James propped himself up slowly…nope. His enemy hadn't ripped his robes. Or done anything at all actually.
Enemy?
Maybe this enemy was weak. HA! Triumphantly, James got into a standing position to the left of his bed, swiftly grabbing the parchment, before dropping it quickly and sticking his pinky finger in his mouth.
Stupid enemy.
Because of course, if you don't know, James's pinky finger is his favorite finger. The best fighter finger. Therefore, James had taken a big hit. 1,000 points for the letter. James however will not give up. Nope, while James did indeed lose his fighter finger, he had 9 others. And 10 toes. And a mouth he could use to rip up the letter if he so desired. Getting to his knees, James pulled his trunk out from under his bed. Hurriedly, he began to search. Unfortunately they were sure to be at the bottom of his trunk. This made sense of course, because he hadn't expected to use them. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
That enemy was going down.
When James had reappeared from the left side under his bed, there was a rather large grin on his face. And gloves on his hands. Latex gloves for that matter. You know the ones you can use to wash dishes; they are all yellow-ish and such? Yes, those gloves. James stood, picking the letter up from his bed.
James,
I just wanted to say Happy Birthday! Many happy returns, and may all your wishes come true.
Sincerely,
Lily Evans
P.S. Will you go out with me next Hogsmeade weekend?
James grin got even larger.
Ally, not enemy.
A/N: Ok, that was a bit longer than I thought it would be, and looking over it, I absolutely hate the first paragraph, but please tell me if you liked it! In advance, I'm sorry if I misused any British words/grammar/slang.
