To Lily, With Love
By imafeckingstarr

Summary: James Potter has written a poem to the love of his life as an early Christmas present. There's a reason why seekers don't write poetry...

A/N: This poem went round my tumblr dashboard for ages so I thought I'd write a one-shot around it. I've altered the words a little bit; I hope the original author of the poem doesn't mind (whoever they are)! Disclaimer: I don't own the poem or Harry Potter.


A Poem by James Potter

James was gallivanting around the Gryffindor Common Room like a demented hippogriff, a maniacal grinned plastered on his face. He was clearly excited about something. Members of the Gryffindor House pinned it down to Christmas, after all, everyone loves Christmas, oh how wrong they were.

After Quidditch practice, James left Sirius to his own devices by running straight to his dorm (without taking a shower) and grabbed a quill and piece of parchment, scribbling something down as quickly as he could. Satisfied with what he had written, he ran into the Common Room and awaited for his friends, and (of course), the love of his life: Lily Evans.

"Lily, Lily come here. Lils, I've got something to show you, come here quick!" He exclaimed as he saw her emerge through the portrait with her friends, Sirius and Remus.

"What's wrong, James? Please don't tell me its some more hippogriff dung, you need to keep things like that to yourself," She sighed, their friends sniggered.

"No, no, it's not hippogriff dung. Sit, sit, I have a special something to give you, er, say to you,"

Lily sat on the armchair utterly bemused, her friends following suit. Sirius sat next to Beth on the sofa, who tried really hard to ignore the fact that he was there (despite her obvious feelings for him), April sat on Beth's other side and Remus sat next to April, each curious to James' sudden enthusiasm.

James smiled, "I wrote you a poem," he said proudly.

"A... what?"

"A poem, it's a really good poem, and I really want you to listen to it. It's an early Christmas present, you ready?"

Lily blinked and merely nodded.

James cleared his throat, "A poem by James Potter," he began, "roses are red, and so is your hair. At words I'm not very good, I could and I should. There's a reason why seekers don't write, Hooch doesn't allow quills in flight. Bet my broom's quite fast, I'd do anything you asked,"

"That's true," Sirius muttered, causing the girls to giggle.

"I think you're quite fit, and you have really nice ti—uh, legs," James said quickly, noticing Lily's narrowing gaze.

"...Please don't leave me,"


I hope you liked it!

Please read and review.

muchlove,
imafeckingstarr xxx