So like, another one shot based on a song. This is loosely based on Kiss You by One Direction. So yeah, enjoy this. X3

Disclaimer: I don't own Kiss You, Harry Potter, and don't wanna make money off of this, it's just for fun.

So tell me girl if every time we touch,

you get this kinda rush.
Baby say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,
Yeah, yeah, yeah.

If you don't wanna take it slow,
And you just wanna take me home.
Baby say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.
Yeah, yeah,

And lemme kiss you.

~ Kiss You, One Direction

"So what do you wanna do tonight?" said James, racing up to Alice Longbottom, The girl pursed her lips, staring at the ground. Her dark hair fell into her face, hiding her large brown eyes, and her round face.

"What do you mean, Potter?" she asked, her voice quiet. He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head, and crouching down so he was peering into her eyes from below.

"I mean, what do you want to do? It's been forever since we've hung out properly," he said, watching her cheeks fill with color. She adjusted her bag on her shoulders, and turned resolutely away, walking down the hall – slow enough that he could join her if he wanted. Not that she expected him to. But this James Potter was just as determined as his namesake, and raced after the girl.

"James," she sighed, turning to face him, as he caught up to her, "We aren't friends anymore, remember?" He shrugged, shifting uncomfortably.

We could be, he thought, watching her walk away. He didn't follow her, he knew she wouldn't really want him to. "If you wanna hang, lemme know," he yelled after her, "Any day, any night, I don't mind." She nodded, and scurried around the corner and out of his sight.

He sighed – he really only wanted her to be his friend. It's not like he really liked her. He wasn't that much like his grandfather. Plus, it was only second year – much too young to really like girls anyway. They still had cooties in his mind.

"Alice!" he raced down the hallway, following the small girl. "Merlin, Alice, slow down please." A few people stared. He didn't mind – unlike Alice, James love attention. He absolutely adored it.

Alice stopped walking, turning his way oh-so slowly. Really, he didn't know why she was rushing; it wasn't like anything important was happening soon, anyway. Just dinner, and he knew that Alice wasn't particularly hungry come dinner time – she never was.

"What do you want, James?" she asked, glancing up at him. He bent over, hands on his knees, and panted a bit, trying to catch his breath.

"Godric, you're fast, did you know that?" he asked, "I just wanted to know if you wanted to eat with my family and I today – it's been too long, we all love you to pieces, you know?" She shrugged, staring down at the shiny black shoes on her feet. James had always loved that she wore nice, sensible, shoes with her uniform; all the other girls wore either heels or sneakers. But Alice insisted on being different – a small act of defiance in the world of cliques and uniformity that Hogwarts had become.

"James, I wasn't planning on going to dinner today," she mumbled. James smiled a moment, for she always seemed to use his name in every sentence, as though someone else would think she was addressing them. The smile melted into a frown when he realized what she had said – when was the last time that he had seen her eat, really?

"C'mon, Alice," he begged, "What will it take to make you love me?" At her alarmed look, he turned red, and coughed. "I meant like a friend, always like a friend," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck.

Finally she agreed, following him to the end of the Gryffindor table that was reserved for the Weasley clan and their friends. She was greeted warmly – after all, her parents were both close friends with their family. Her stepmother was Lily Potter's godmother, as a matter of fact; meanwhile, her father was Albus Potter's godfather.

James thought maybe he should entertain the idea that he maybe had a crush on Alice Longbottom – maybe. But they were third years; it was obviously just a little crush.

"And I'm telling you, Alice, she was stick thin, no substance to her," James laughed, recounting his latest dating conquest. Alice frowned, staring at the plate in front of her, barely any food having been eating.

"That's really great James, I'm sure she's gorgeous," she mumbled, tugging on the blue tie – stupid Ravenclaw colors, why couldn't she be a Gryffindor? She hated blue – and shoving her sausage to the side.

"No, that's stupid," he said, shaking his head. "I mean, if she was more your weight maybe, but stick-thin? No thanks." Alice frowned again. Why did he have to bring her weight into this? People always brought her into things.

"Listen James, I'm full," she said, sliding her legs over the bench. "See you, okay?" James frowned, for he knew she hadn't eaten much. She never ate much.

"Are you sure?" he said, "You hardly touched your potatoes, let alone the sausage." She nodded, looking a little pale.

"You can have it, if you want," she said, and dashed out of the Great Hall, leaving James in a state of confusion. What had he said wrong? And why hadn't she eaten anything? She hadn't really had breakfast or dinner – he was starting to get worried.

Should he be worried?

He brushed it off, however – there couldn't be anything wrong with Alice. She was perfect – definitely perfect – she wouldn't starve herself or something. Plus, they were only fourth years. Old enough to be in love, (for he had realized sometime that summer that he was madly, deeply, in love with Alice Longbottom), but much too young to have an eating disorder – right?

"Look at Alice, Jamesie," whispered Roxanne, standing on her toes to mutter in her cousin's ear. James turned around, running his hand through his dark mop of hair. His jaw dropped when he lay eyes on the Ravenclaw in her deep blue dress, her hair piled up and out of her face for once. She was gorgeous.

"Woah," he breathed. Fred laughed, throwing the arm that wasn't wrapped around his girlfriend over James' shoulder. The three cousins stared at the shy girl crossing Slughorn's office, as crowded as it was with the many Slug Club members and their guests.

"What are you doin' mate?" asked Fred, shoving James forward a bit, "Ask her to dance!"

James made his way across the floor, towards the refreshments table by which Alice now hovered. When he reached her, she looked up, relief painted across her round face.

"Alice, do you wanna um," he froze when she looked up at him, her face painted with only the slightest bit of makeup, unlike some of the bimbos in the room. "What I mean to say is, uh," he stumbled over his words, looking like a fool, but Alice only giggled and waited patiently for him to continue speaking.

However, he couldn't. He was anxious, scared – yes, he would admit it, to himself, he was terrified – and painfully aware of his cousins positioned around the room, ready to cheer him on… or laugh at his failure. The feeling of fear on worsened when he spotted Lorcan and Lysander, Alice's older step-brothers, eying them protectively from across the room. The two tall, blonde, and vaguely threatening seventh years were ready to jump to their sister's aid if they thought she was being harassed or threatened.

"James," she said, "Do you wanna, you know. Dance?" He nodded meekly, annoyed at himself for being a coward.

At the end of the night, the two fifth years were giggling like mad, and the words slipped out of James' mouth before he could stop them.

"Will you be my girlfriend, Alice?" he asked. She smiled widely and nodded, throwing skinny arms – too skinny, though James didn't quite notice – around his neck.

"This is Alice," he announced jokingly, an arm wrapped protectively around her waist, "Isn't she lovely?" The Weasleys, though they all knew Alice, cast fake critical gazes on James' girlfriend of seven months. They whispered faked criticisms to each other, their grins giving away that they meant nothing by it, and called out compliments.

"She's a beaut, Jay," laughed Teddy Lupin from the couch nearby, winking at Alice good-naturedly.

"Lovely," chimed in Dominque, sticking out her tongue, and laughing at the small, shy smile on Alice's face.

"Is she related to the Neville Longbottom?" begged Hugo, the youngest to bear the Weasley name at the age of eleven – three weeks older than Lily Potter, youngest in the clan altogether. "The real, live war hero?" (A joke, as he not only knew Neville, he had him for a Herbology professor.)

"She's a bit larger than the girls I fancy," muttered second-year Louis – who had no girls he fancied to speak of – to Rose, who shook her head, and swatted at him lightly. His eyes twinkled with mirth, he didn't really mean it, but Alice heard. Her mind zeroed in on his words, and she frowned.

"I'm just gonna, um," she mumbled, sliding free from James' grasp, and running unsteadily out of the Children's Sitting Room in the Potter Residence (12 Grimmauld Place.) She raced to the bathroom, but fell on the stairs. Unable to will herself to keep going, Alice wrapped her arms around her legs, curled up by the banister and began to sob – loud, painful, racking sobs that shook her body violently.

"Alice? Alice, love, what's wrong?" asked James, sitting next to her and tugging her tiny body into his chest.

Too tiny, he thought, Has she always been this tiny? Something in his told him that she was healthier before, that she didn't used to be that small. Something in his mind screamed at him to look back at the hints that something was wrong, if not in the past four years, then at least in the past seven months.

"You're cold," he said, as she cried into his chest. Her hands were cold and clammy, so much colder than a normal person. Cold, dry skin, never eating, skin and bones practically, and she was so tired all the time. How in the name of Godric did he not notice?

"I'm sorry, James," she cried, "I just wanted to be pretty enough to have you, and when I got you –" she had to pause as she let out a loud sob; James was surprised his family hadn't come running – "I had to stay pretty enough to make everyone jealous. All your friends, I wanted them to be jealous of you, I wanted them to drool over me, but not be able to have me, because I love you."

"Alice," he admonished, pulling away to stare at her pretty brown eyes, "I love you, and you're beautiful. I want them to drool all over their chins over you, because you're gorgeous – but they can't touch you, you're mine."

He hugged her for a long while, whispering comforting things into her ear. Silently, he promised himself that his goal for the upcoming sixth year would be to save her.

"Hey James?" said Alice, leaning over to her boyfriend. He raised an eyebrow at the seemingly innocent girl in front of him, who was smiling wickedly.

"Yes, my dear Alice?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Let me kiss you," she breathed, leaning across the couch in the Room of Requirement in which they were settled. Around them, students from all houses got drunk, danced, played games, and ate food to celebrate the seventeenth birthday of his cousin, Dominique. But her eyes were on him and him only.

"Gladly," he whispered, and she pressed her lips to his.

It is worth noting that Alice's lips tasted of the birthday cake she had devoured a few moments previously, and that James' hand resting on her waist did not feel the skin and bones sensation it had felt for several long months the previous year.

When they pulled away, James smiled lazily, gazing at Alice's lips with half-lidded eyes.

"Every time we touch, I…feel a kind of rush," Alice admitted.

"Yeah," whispered James, "Now let me kiss you."