Lucky Star... or is it Flower?
A/N Random title, I know, but it's all I had. This is the second request for my lovely cousins who are ardent Harry Potter Fanfiction lovers. This one is written for Mack and I hope it meets all her hopes and dreams! :-) I hope it meets yours as well! Oh and I didn't have much time to edit, so I hope it's okay. Specifically, I apologize for any tense changes. I struggled a bit with that when I was writing this one.
"James!" Patrice Jacobs called to me from across the Great Hall.
Ugh, this is why I hated school dances. Sure, it was a perfect opportunity for me to hit up all the girls, but it was also an opportunity for all the girls to hit up me. Including the girls I had dumped at one point or another. Girls like Patrice. I turned to face her, painting on the trademark Potter grin.
"Hey," I said, nodding casually. "You look nice."
I wasn't lying, honest I wasn't. Patrice was about as gorgeous as gorgeous got. She had natural blond hair that spun down her back, swishing lazily when she walked. And her eyes. Merlin she had the sweetest eyes. Just like hot chocolate including the swirls of cream. That's just on a normal day. For dances... any male in sight would fall at her feet. Except Albus maybe... he didn't do the whole girl thing. I think the pretty ones scared him more than anything.
So why wasn't I under her spell? Well, I was once. That was before I knew what she kept stored under neath that gold hair of hers, which was absolutely nothing. Not nothing... she kept meticulous records of all the girls who might be competition and all the guys worth looking at (I was top of the list), but that was about it. Now don't get me wrong, I didn't mind people less intelligent than I, because that's almost everyone, but this girl was beyond even my tolerance.
"Oh thank you," she said, smiling all sweetly at me and batting her eyes. "You look pretty dashing as well."
Dashing? Okay, so she also had an interesting vocabulary to refer to. I forgot about that.
Anyways, she was just standing there, smiling at me, waiting. I hated it when they waited. They just didn't understand; I wasn't going to ask them to dance. I was seriously considering writing a book call Understanding James S. Potter: An Official Guide. Really, the girls at Hogwarts needed something like that. My life would have been so much easier.
"I'm just off to get something to drink," I lied. "I've been dancing all night."
"Yes, I thought you might have been," she replied.
In Patrice language that meant, yes I've been watching you this whole time. Another reason why I dumped her. Waaay to Observant. When I say observant, I mean stalkerish.
"Save me a dance, James," Patrice said as she left.
Whew. That was close. I was sure I would get stuck dancing with my ex again. Oddly enough, it happened way more than it used to.
I made a hasty retreat from the Hall, determined to have a least a few dances off. I sneaked past the chaperon pretty well. It wasn't that hard, considering old Flitwick was practically blind. It was long way up, but there was no where I liked better than the astronomy tower. And really, the walk wasn't so bad as I kept a broom stored in a near by cupboard. Zipping up the stairs was always a great feeling, and no one was ever around to catch me. Usually.
That night, I dismounted, surprised to see someone else on the tower. Her back was to me, showing off the corset style lacings in the back of her white and gold dress. I liked lacings, especially her lacings. I shook my head. I didn't even know her. Or maybe I did. When she turned abruptly towards me, I recognized her from classes. She was an obscure girl, undeniably pretty, but intelligent and aloof. She had only moved into Hogwarts this year. In that time, everyone had learned to leave her be. She liked to be alone they said. Looking into her silvery grey eyes, I wasn't so sure.
She only met my eyes for a moment, before turning away from me again, tossing her cinnamon hair as she went. The cool brush off was clearly meant to intimidate me, warn me off, but I was only intrigued. There was a world of pain and sadness hiding in those eyes and I was determined to find out why.
"It's...Azalea, right?" I prayed I said her name right. She would likely flay me alive if I hadn't.
She remained silent as stone, so I took that to mean I got it right. Whew. One major hurdle done, only fifty more to go. It wasn't easy to gain the confidence of these shy girls. Trust me, I know. Cocky and proud though I was (No, I wasn't ignorant of the fact) I was in all actuality a pretty sensitive guy. Just ask Leslie Pope. She was by far the shyest girl in my year, and yet she was open with me. So much so, I would have considered her one of my best friends. And she wasn't the only one like her. I wasn't such a hit for nothing. I was well liked because I liked others. If I were all ego and no kindness my cousin, Rose, would have hexed me into last year. Albus and Lily would have too, of course.
Something about them, drew me to their side. Rose says it's my protective instincts, Albus says it's downright attraction. He obviously knows nothing of my taste. The loud, witty girls were the girls for me, no offense to the quiet, prim ones like Lily and Leslie. Did I mention their best friends now? I orchestrated that. Pretty good, huh?
Anyway, standing on the tower with Azalea I wasn't sure I knew my own tastes. I wasn't even near her and my heart was starting to pound. Something unusual was definitely going on.
"What are you doing up here?" I asked, stepping up to the rail.
She glanced sideways at me, her sleek curls falling in her face. I suddenly had the urge to tuck it behind her ear. That was weird. I've never wanted to do that before. Not even when I was dating Emma O'Leary. Now she had great hair. Black and straight, there never was smoother hair. But Azalea's hair... it was tempting. Weird.
"Avoiding people like you," she retorted.
"No, that's not right. You must be avoiding someone else." I grinned at her, waiting to see if she would rise to the occasion.
"Nope, I know who to keep away from," she replied.
Sure enough, banter came easy to her. A natural instinct. I was sure she was used to this fun sort of teasing. Did she use to do that at her old school, or perhaps with her family. Did she have family?
"Why would you ever want to keep away from me?" Now that was an honest question. Everybody liked me, well... except that blockhead Maclaggen. I opened my arms wide to better show off my near perfect body. Scratch the near. "What's not to love?"
"Hmm, let me think," she said. "Your poor work ethic and laziness, your constant need for attention coupled with an acute sense of arrogance, and that's not even to start on your reputation with the ladies."
I stared at her a bit in shock. She might, emphasis on the might, have been right, but there was no need for bluntness. Hadn't she ever heard of beating around the bush? I had to admit, it stung quite a lot to hear her say that all. Not that I hadn't ever heard it before. Merlin knows I had heard it from nearly all of my friends, but to have heard it from Azalea... I felt like and idiot. A jerk? Nah, but most definitely an idiot.
"That's a little harsh," I finally managed.
She smirked at me. Did I ever mention she had really nice lips? Full and glossed, totally kissable. Except, I thought she might slap me if I did kiss her. Needless to say, I restrained my self.
"It's true though, and you know it."
I shrugged. "What can I say? We all have our faults."
"Most people aren't proud of theirs."
Okay, so she had me there. So maybe I was a little enamored with myself, warts and all. Oh, who was I kidding? I was more enamored with the warts than anything else. But that wasn't really true either. Hadn't I often observed a happier feeling whenever I helped others? Didn't I feel more accomplished after talking with Leslie than when I won quiditch, again. One victory was certainly sweeter than the other. Out of nowhere, I wanted Azalea to know that side of me, to see the good-guy James kept inside. I wanted her to know only the best of me.
I considered this even as I considered her. Her head was tilted up, the stars reflected in her eyes and the moon casting a glow on her. In that moment, she was a star. I wanted to bottle her up and watch her shine all night long.
"Will you dance with me?" I blurted.
Azalea turned towards me, her face utterly incredulous. I was pleased to note the hesitant smile just peeking through.
"You can't even hear the music," she said.
"Then come back down stairs with me. I hoisted my broomstick with a silly grin. "I'll give you a lift."
She watched me carefully for moment, before nodding quickly.
"One dance, and it doesn't mean anything," Azalea said.
"Of course not," I replied. "One dance, no strings attached."
"Good, because you're still a big-headed idiot."
To my disappointment, she really was serious. I got one measly slow dance out of her, and she stood at least three feet away from me, I swear. I think my powerful presence must have frightened her. On the bright side, Patrice stopped bothering me that night. I may have stretched the truth a little, and told her Azalea and I were dating, but hey, it worked.
Everything I knew about Azalea told me she would never just fall at my feet, although honestly, she had to be madly in love with me by that point. So now that I found myself under her spell, I had to do anything to keep her. Or get her in the first place, as the case may be. It wouldn't be easy, the slap I got when I tried to kiss her the next morning proved it. But it would be possible. That I knew, because when a bouquet of azaleas arrived that day in the mail, she turned towards me and smiled.