Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Author's Note: Just a little drabble.
just a green eyed girl
(my shoulders ache for want of wings)
It's on the final day of his sixth year that James sees the girl with the green eyes.
She stands on the platform, red hair shining in the light – he can't help but look as the Hogwarts Express pulls into Platform 9 3/4, all but mesmerized by her face. She taps her foot impatiently, waiting in Muggle clothes, and he stares. Her eyes briefly meet his through the window he's leaning against.
"Prongs," Sirius says from his side with a bag in hand, and at the silence follows the boy's line of sight. "Fine bird," he comments with a grin that James can't see, and pulls him away.
.
.
They're waiting on the platform for the Potters and James' head cranes around this way and that, searching for the girl with the red hair. His friends stand with him, amused and used to his behaviour, chatting away about summer plans when he spots her again.
Another girl has joined her, possibly a friend, or a sister – they look almost nothing alike from this distance, but he thinks he recognizes the newcomer. A Hufflepuff, or a Ravenclaw, or something (but definitely not Slytherin, he knows the snakes, or a Gryffindor) a year ahead of him. Named after a flower, Rose or Daisy or something girly like that. She holds a trunk with the Hogwarts crest on it, smiling at the red haired girl. The red haired girl does not look amused, tapping the watch at her wrist with a frown.
His feet take him in their direction before he's even aware of it.
.
.
"Excuse me," he says, and the two turn.
He notices that the Hogwarts student is taller than the girl – he's almost sure it's her sister, now – and her face is narrower, her neck is longer. Her eyes light up upon seeing him and her cheeks darken; he grins, because even though she's now graduated, he's still got it. He remembers her name now. Petunia. A muggleborn, with a boring Muggle last name that he can't be bothered to know.
He turns on the charm and looks at (his) the red-haired girl.
"I couldn't help but notice you two lovely ladies standing here, and just had to ask – could I and my friends request your company for lunch?"
She has green eyes, he notices now. They're brilliant and beautiful and – she's beautiful. He can't stop staring. She is like no other girl he has met before.
Petunia giggles, one hand at her mouth. Her companion does not seem to be as affected, her lips quirking into a wry smile. He can sense the refusal before it even comes.
"I'm sorry, but we have somewhere to be," she says and by Merlin, he swears he's never heard such a wonderful voice in his life. No other girl he's dated, kissed, charmed has ever sounded like this.
"Lily," Petunia interrupts, and James stores the name in his head – Lily. Beautiful Lily. Just like the flower. He feels like he just can't get enough of looking at her.
The Lily flower girl turns to her sister (he can see the slight resemblance now, something in the nose, in the brow, in the way their eyes crinkle at the corners when they smile) and shakes her head. "No, Petunia, we're already late enough as it is." She turns to James, and he's still staring, still smiling, and she opens her mouth—
"James," he says before she can refuse him again, make some sort of apology. "James Potter." They stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, before Lily raises an eyebrow at him. She looks amused, he thinks; that's good, right? She thinks he's funny, that's a start.
"I'm sorry, James," and the way his name sounds from her mouth is like no one has ever said it before, and he wonders – where has this girl been all my life? "But like I said, we have somewhere to be. Thank you for the invitation, though." She nods at him and grabs Petunia's wrist, beginning to lead them away. The girl rolls her eyes but waves at James as they walk, and he falters, and feels that if he doesn't do something that it'll be wrong, he can't let this girl leave just yet, not after barely meeting her—
"Lily!" He calls out the name to her back. The two pause, and Lily glances over her shoulder. She smiles slightly, her eyes crinkling up in the corners in a way he thinks he could love, if he was old enough, if he was mature enough, if he was going to spend the rest of his life with her.
"Goodbye, James Potter," she says.
And James watches the green eyed girl leave, his breath trapped somewhere between his ribcage and his lips.