Average Afternoon

Found this in my old drafts file. Not exciting in the least, but I was very impressed that I wrote this when I was thirteen. I'm so proud of little me. :D

Disclaimer: If the Harry Potter books were this boring, Jo wouldn't have made a cent, and she'd be in my financial situation.

James sat in the Common Room doing his homework. Well, he was supposed to be. Something seemed to be distracting him.

Pretending to read the assigned Charms text in The Domestic Application of Essential High Magic, he looked over the book toward the fire. In what was undoubtedly the most comfy armchair in the tower sat Lily Evans, the girl who had caught his heart on that first train ride that had, in contrast, led her to hate him in return. Her waist length auburn hair rested on the back of the chair, her brilliant emerald eyes invisible behind The Peacetime Application of Practical Wizardries. Lily scratched her nose, a movement that made James sigh contently.

Sitting across the table, Remus Lupin closed A History of Basic Enchantments, making an "ugh" noise in the back of his throat. Sirius Black, playing a game of Exploding Snap with Peter Pettigrew, who rolled his eyes at James' hopelessness, said the thing they were all thinking.

"You are so whipped, Prongs."

"Well, he has been since our first trip here, and I don't think that will be changing soon," Remus remarked. "Remember what he said as soon as she left with Snivellus?"

"I'm going to marry her," the three young adults chorused. Every girl in the room besides Lily and her friend Mary MacDonald swiveled around, looking hopeful. All four Marauders slunk down in their seats, James hiding his beet red face behind his book again.

"You don't need to proclaim it to the entire Common Room, mates," James insisted. Remus nodded wryly, immersing himself once more in his text, and Peter's winning streak went on when Sirius' eyebrows suddenly vanished behind a violent eruption of cardstock.

Just another normal day in the exciting Gryffindor Tower.

I just liked the complacent feel of this little anecdote.