"Don't you get it, Potter? This isn't a game, not to me. You can't think that I can just go around following you like a lap dog. I can't keep on chasing on you—I'm giving up, alright? Because that's what you made me do, you can't bloody respond like it isn't wrong that I love you. So I'm giving up. Are you happy now?"
"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I'D BE HAPPY WITH THAT—you, you can't quit on chasing—you're a bloody chaser! And you can't honestly believe I'm going to let you give up! You want a response that makes it seem like your love isn't wrong? Well, I'm sorry, I'm not giving you that. I can't tell you you're love isn't wrong when I think my bloody feelings towards you are too wrong for comprehension! I love you—and it's wrong! Because I'm not supposed to love you, not in this lifetime!"
"You have no right to—WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"
"I love you, Fronsac,"
"Say my name."
"Why?"
"Because I want you to say my name, just once."
"But I don't what to say your name,"
"Why—"
"Because everyone calls you Violet, or Vi—and no one ever calls you Fronsac, and only I can call you that."
"But what happens when I become a Potter too? What will you call me?"
"You're thinking way to far ahead, Fronsac,"
"But I'm just musing!"
"Don't get too cocky, Fronsac, what makes you think you'll also become a Potter?"
"Right, do you want to become a Fronsac?"
"Anything that makes you happy,"
"I love you too, Potter,"
Prologue
She rarely even thought of what she wanted to do.
He resides to thinking of repercussions before he even gets on to doing something.
She had fun to think about, and how to do the next plot that would make the school laugh.
He had school to think about, and advance reading to get to next.
She wanted to show people how far she was from her family—that she was different.
He wanted people to see that he was meant to be in his family—he wanted to belong.
She knew how to act to get what she wanted with a single whim.
He knew that he had to work harder to get what he wanted.
She learned how to become carefree.
He learned how to become tight-wounded.
She learned how to fly.
He learned how to watch.
She learned how to become popular.
He learned how to become a wallflower.
She learned to love.
He learned to remain indifferent.
Because she was Violet Fronsac, and he was James Potter—and those names were enough for people to change their minds. Of course, one moment they were at each other's throats—and the next, the boy found himself entangled with the girl, all figuratively speaking of course. Professors commented that this was a flip side.
Flying. For Violet, it was her life. For James, it was his death. And for the pair, well, it was the reason their paths ever crossed.
"What do you think about flying, James?" Zack Finnigan asked as they walked into the grounds. "I'm sure you're a natural, eh?"
James turned flush slightly, before someone bumped into him, making him turn abruptly—only to see a blur of blonde hair. He didn't really care who that was, but he was buying from telling Zack what kind of a natural he really was when he came to flying. A natural downfall, that's what.
"WE'RE GOING FLYING!" The blonde blur shouted before she turned, and James thought she was looking at them, only then—a small girl rushed over to her, eyes wide.
"Violet, please," She urged as she hurried. "This is my first time with a broom, remember?"
"Your first time?" Zack called as the brunette stopped abruptly, turning around as she furrowed her eyebrows as if to say what's it to you? "James here is a Potter, a natural flyer! Maybe he can help you!" Zack pushed James forward as his eyes widened in surprise. He was going to make a fool of himself—surely.
"A Potter, eh?" The blonde called Violet walked forward to sling an arm around the other girl's shoulder, pushing them both forward to the two boys. "What do you say to a fly?"
"I, I don't really think I—" James cut himself off as Violet raised an eyebrow. "Aren't we suppose to wait for the teacher?" He asked, running a hand across his hair.
"Where's the fun in that?" She asked holding a hand to her hip. "Besides, Rachelle here ought to see someone fly, she's a muggle-born, you see,"
"Go on, James," Zack urged and James hands clenched into fists—wanting so badly to say that he can't fly to save a life.
"Come on then, Potter," Violet threw him a cocky grin, which he returned with a smile of his own, a grimace of sorts.
They both walked up to the brooms, with Zack and Rachelle following the pair excitedly. Violet threw her hand out as she walked past, making the broom jump up into her hand.
"Bloody hell, I guess she was born into the Quidditch pitch," Zack commented, making Violet wink at him cheekily.
"Up!" James urged, making the broom jump into his hand. Sure, he couldn't fly, but that doesn't mean Harry and Ginny Potter didn't try their absolute best to help him.
Violet clambered unto hers, and waited until James rode his. She shot up in the air, as fast as the school broom could go. By now, the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs they were sharing the class with watched in awe at the girl who was doing loops.
"Fronsac's amazing," A Hufflepuff said quietly behind him as James bit the inside of his cheek.
"You're a show off, Fronsac!" He called as he shot forward shakily. His broom wavered, making people gasp.
"Oy, James!" Zack called as his broom stooped lower again.
"Potter!" Violet called before rushing over to him, gliding beside him. "What's wrong with you?" She asked, only for him to hear.
"I can't fly!" He whispered urgently as her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise.
"Well, what the ruddy hell were you thinking flying, then?" She asked with a glare, before correcting the grip of his hands. "Lean down forward slightly," James looked at her in panic. "Come on, I'll hold the broom," She urged before he leaned, and they both carefully touched down.
"What happened?" Zack asked once they had touched down. The Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs had crowded around them.
"Something went wrong with the broom," James answered quickly, making Violet raise an eyebrow at him before smirking.
"Yeah, and Potter couldn't control a wild broom, so we touched down," She shrugged her shoulders as James rolled his eyes. She dropped her broomstick along with the others.
"Are you always this bloody arrogant, Fronsac?" James asked before Violet grinned a lopsided grin at him before stepping closer, reaching up to his height.
"I like you, Potter, really," James furrowed his eyebrows at her. "But, I'm not arrogant, I like to say proud,"
"Proud and arrogant git, you are," James retorted with a shake of his head.
"WELL, WHAT ARE YOU ALL CROWDING AROUND FOR?" Professor Wood's voiced called as Violet winked before standing over next to the broom she just dropped.
The snow was sticking to the ground, and it was also sticking to James' bloody hair. Violet was getting distracted.
"Oy, Potter," She called, walking forward to catch him. Rachelle and Rose followed closely.
"What're you going to do, Violet?" Rose asked quietly, voicing like a conscience behind her.
"Hogsmeade weekend is coming up," Violet shrugged her shoulders, combing through her hair with her fingers and resting it on her shoulder.
"And, what might that mean, Fronsac?" James raised his eyebrows at her before Zack nudged him.
"You want to go get a butterbeer, or something?" She asked, throwing a lopsided grin. Rose and Rachelle stared at her with wide eyes, the former particularly unhinged because her best friend was asking out her cousin.
"Are you asking me out, Fronsac?" James asked ridiculously. Zack grinned.
"Yeah, that's a way of putting it," James stared at her before gathering his wits.
"I wouldn't go out with you even if you're the last woman left on Earth," He retorted coolly.
"That's your comeback, Potter?" She let out a laugh, before falling into place with the pair of girls. "You better come up with better ones, I'm afraid you're going to need them," She winked at him cheekily before turning around, Rachelle laughing along as Rose cheeks' turned red.
In the Head Table of course, seasoned professors were already talking of the recently watched asking affair of Miss Fronsac and Mr. Potter.
"It's like James and Lily switched personalities, don't you think, Minerva?" Professor Flitwick said in a quiet tone as Slughorn laughed.
"Just like lovely Lily, James is." Slughorn commented before taking a drink out of his goblet.
"Yes, and Violet is just like James," McGonagall smiled fondly.
"I see a problem, though," Flitwick said with a shake of his head. "We're going to have to endure Miss Fronsac asking out Mr. Potter until he gives in, won't we?"
"An entirely amusing show, if I do say so myself," The Headmistress smiled a smile she had only reserved for those of the affairs of her favorite late Head Boy and Head Girl.