My Favorite Gryffindor
Disclaimer: Last time I checked I was a sixteen year old girl from America, not the wonderful and most talented J.K. Rowling. And no matter how much I wish I owned the Harry Potter series, I don't and will forever be upset about it. So that having been said, I'll just go sit in that corner over there and mope while you read this.
I was studying alone in the library, at least until I was unexpectedly interrupted. Normally I didn't mind the sorts of things James got up to, but when it disrupted my work… let's just say he needed to watch his back.
The eldest Potter slid into the chair next to me and rested his head on his hand. I let out a heavy sigh and looked up. I waited for him to say some sort of arrogant, sardonic comment but it never came. He just sat there watching me.
"Is there something I can help you with?" I asked. My tone disclosed my annoyance but James just ignored it.
"Can I not spend a little time with my favorite Gryffindor?" He replied with a smirk that usually only a Malfoy could pull off, but he managed.
"When it comes to you? No. If you don't want anything from me then I don't see what reason you have to stick around. I'm sure that your presence would be much more appreciated elsewhere," I said. I was of course referring to the group of fourth year girls that were sitting a few tables over. They were staring at him as if he was the greatest thing they had ever seen. I recognized the group as the one that followed James around like lost puppies; they were pathetic and James relished in it.
However, I did have to admit that I could see why. He was attractive. He had dark brown hair that was always messy paired up with even darker brown eyes that seemed to hold all the secrets of the world. Plus he had a wonderful body thanks to six years as a chaser for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Oh and did I mention he was the son of two war heroes? His whole family was basically made of them.
"Oh come on Char, surely you don't think that lowly of me? But I suppose if you are too busy to take a break from," he paused and lifted up the front of my textbook, "History of Magic," he continued, " to talk to me then I'll just have to wait until you're done." He smirked again. Honestly, I wanted to smack him but I knew that would only provoke him more. My friends had this ludicrous idea that he was in love with me and me him. The only problem with their theory was that they were wrong. They insisted that I was just being stubborn but I think I would know if I was in love with someone.
"Don't call me Char. It's Charlotte, and I would really prefer that you leave but I know that's not going to happen." He did a small victory dance at my concession. "Just don't bother me," I said. He mocked a look of hurt.
"I cannot believe that you think I am willing to do such a thing. Honestly Char." He shook his head as if disapproving my earlier statement. I ignored his use of the nickname and returned my attention to the textbook. I had an exam in three days and hell would have to freeze over before I would let James Potter affect my performance.
To my surprise, James actually stayed quiet. I however was no longer studying. I could see from the corner of my eye that he was watching me. I wasn't sure why. I knew I wasn't that interesting. I wasn't uncomfortable though which was new for me. I used to always hate it when he looked at me for extended periods of time. Now, I actually kind of liked it. I suddenly looked up at him. He didn't look away. We held eye contact for what felt like hours before the silence broke.
"Why are you staring at me?" I whispered; he smiled. He didn't even seem troubled by the question.
"Honestly?" He whispered back. I nodded slowly. "Because you are the only thing in here worth looking at." That caught me off guard. He had never said anything like that before, anything so real. Although I guess we had never actually been alone long enough for him to have a chance.
"James, please don't go there," I begged. I didn't want him to get all sentimental or anything like that. I was used to his cynical attitude, I hadn't prepared myself for anything else.
"Why not?" He asked. I couldn't think of a reason that made any real sense. Everything I thought of was stupid and I knew that he would just dismiss it. I stumbled for words but none came. I just kept opening my mouth like I was about to say something only to realize they wouldn't do any good.
"See? You want me to go there you just won't admit it to yourself." He had this look on his face like he had made the greatest discovery of the century.
"What? No. I – I just…"
"Just what? Don't want to believe that there is something you like about the idea? I like it. I like it a lot," he said. I couldn't believe the things he was telling me. He had never said anything like this before. "I mean really Charlotte, think about it. Think about what it would be like if we were together."
"I have thought about it," I admit. My words surprised me. I had never even realized that I thought about it. But looking back at every time I had ever imagined myself in a relationship his face was the one that would pop up, even if only briefly. "And I like it, but we can't."
"And why is that?"
"Because you're James bloody Potter and we just can't." I snapped. I knew that it wasn't a real reason and so did he but I was getting annoyed with the conversation.
"That's not a real reason," he said. He was staring at me like I had lost my mind and by that point I think I had.
"I don't know, you just – you have dozens of girls pining after you and I know that you know about them and I just don't get it. I mean why, out of all the girls at Hogwarts, why me?" I asked. He tucked a lone strand of hair behind my ear. I stopped him from moving his hand away.
"Why you? Because you, Charlotte Elizabeth Finnigan, are the most stunning creature I have ever seen walk the Earth. You are beautiful and smart and sarcastic and just utterly – amazing. You're amazing and I love you." Before I could process what he said his lips were on mine and it was in that moment, the moment he kissed me, when I discovered that I loved and hated my friends at the same time. I hated them because they were right about me and James and I was never going to hear the end of it. But then again, I loved them for being right about me and James.
Eventually we left the library for the comfort of the common room. It was late so there were only a couple of fifth years studying in the corner. I knew that by lunch the next day we would be the talk of the school but I didn't care. James sat on one of the large armchairs and pulled me to his lap. Sitting there with him, I realized three things: one - I had never been happier in my entire seventeen years of life; two - it would only get better from there; and three - I was completely in love with James Sirius Potter.