Weakness

It's taken me six years, but finally, finally, I have found Potter's weakness. It's not, as one might think, a fear of spiders or a dependence on others; no, he's perfectly fine picking up arachnids to fling at unsuspecting Slytherins, and has no problem wandering the hallways alone when he should be in class.

Ever since Second Year, I've been determined to find some sort of weakness in him; after all, isn't it impossible for someone to be perfect? Well, other than his rather major character flaw of having an ego larger than Asia. But I won't get into that right now, or you'll be stuck listening for days.

By the closing of Second Year, I'd realized he was intensely loyal, but I didn't see that as a weakness; though I'd never admit it, I saw it as something noble. It was incredibly irritating, having spent an entire year devoted to finding his weakness but nothing to show for it come June. And so I left school determined to find it the next year.

At the end of Third Year, I was almost positive I had discovered Potter's weakness—he was afraid of werewolves. I'd noticed how he had gone pale as a ghost when we began learning about them in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and how he twitched each time a new characteristic of lycanthropes was taught. I was sitting in class, feeling elated by my discovery, when my eyes wandered to Black. I was astonished to see the same worried and uncomfortable look on his face, only in addition, he kept on glancing at Remus. And that's when I figured out why Remus really leaves once a month.

During Fourth Year, it became quite obvious that Potter most definitely did not have a fear of girls; if anything, he feared not being with a girl. There were constantly girls giggling at every other word he said, or batting their eyelids in his general direction; honestly, it was enough to make any sane person sick. Potter, however, has clearly never fallen into the "sane" category, as he enjoyed every minute of it.

In Fifth Year, James missed the Transfiguration lesson where we were practicing how to conjure mice, even though his other three cronies were there—it was unlikely, but I figured maybe he was scared of rodents. That theory, however, was shot to hell the next week, when I saw him trying to coax a rat into attacking a Slytherin—though that didn't do wonders for my opinion of his brain, let me tell you. Honestly, talking to a rat?

Sixth Year I spent too much time studying my arse off to pay much attention to Potter, other than screaming at him for all of his misdeeds, and glaring at him when he was the first to successfully complete a Transfiguration assignment. And in Seventh Year, I started dating him. It didn't happen as suddenly as I'm making it sound; it took three months for me to realize he wasn't quite the arrogant berk I'd always marked him as, it just seems blurred in my mind. And it was only then, after I found myself falling in love with him, that I finally discovered James' Potter's weakness.

We were at breakfast one day in January, and James and Sirius were being particularly quarrelsome, in that special way of theirs. I had been ignoring them and happily eating my jam and toast when, after a moment of silence, James' voiced sounded suddenly angry.

"Oh no, don't you dare—Sirius Black, stop that right this instant!"

When I looked up James was glaring at Sirius in full force, while Sirius was simply lifting one eyebrow in an amused fashion. James was stuttering, apparently too upset to form complete sentences.

"Padfoot you wanker, you know I hate it when you do that—ugh! I despise you!"

At this point I had caught on, and as James looked helplessly in my direction—I'd assume looking for comfort—I merely raised my right eyebrow in his direction. James gasped as though I'd wounded him, before his eyes narrowed into a glare.

"I can't believe you, out of all people, my girlfriend, would do this to me! Taunt me so cruelly! I put a curse on all of you!" James was yelling wildly, oblivious to the fact that half the Gryffindor table was now staring in his direction. Most seemed to be laughing, but contrary to their belief, James was not doing this for the attention.

No, ladies and gentlemen, he was doing it because, despite his continued efforts since the age of five, he was still unable to raise only one eyebrow at a time, and apparently instantly hated anyone who could. And I was elated once again, because not only had I finally discovered it, I also knew that I'd be able to use it against him at any time I wished, just as I always dreamed I would be able to.

Because, ladies and gentlemen, James Potter's true weakness is his sensitivity to his faulty eyebrows.

A/N: You've taken the time to read this, I'd greatly appreciate it if you took another minute to leave me a review—let me know your thoughts/reactions! Thanks