James Potter was sprinting through the Fifth floor corridor racing against his watch to get to Transfiguration. He had stayed up last night doing an essay (in for this lesson, ironically) and had fallen asleep at nearly four am and so his friends, being the idiots that they are, had elected to go to breakfast without him thinking that he would need that extra half an hour in bed. Except it wasn't an extra half an hour that he spent, it was two hours. Already he had missed Charms and Potions and Transfiguration seemed to be slipping into that pile, hence the sprinting.
As he rounded the last corner of his journey, he checked his watch. He had only missed 10 minutes, thankfully and hopefully this was little enough for McGonagall to let him off. Fat chance he thought to himself. Puffing his chest out and walking with a casual, yet purposeful, walk he strolled into class.
James Potter was one of those people that demanded attention. Not through any self-indulged purpose (not anymore, anyway) but because people noticed him. When James Potter walked into a room, you looked, you gawked and you admired. It was Hogwarts' unwritten rule since he first winked to four separate girls on his way up to the sorting hat in First Year. When he spoke, you listened; when he commanded, you followed; when he played Quidditch, you watched with awe. If you were at Hogwarts during his time there you wouldn't have noticed it because it was subconscious. Everyone just did it; no questions asked (well, everyone except one person) even his best friends adhered to this; even the Slytherins adhered to this.
And how could you not noticed him, standing at 6'2 with crazy raven hair that never lay flat, broad shoulders and an almighty strong build from playing Quidditch morning, noon and night and a brain capable of things that one hundred year old philosophers couldn't do. Later in life, his admirers would say that he had cheekbones that could cut through diamond; they would say that he had a jaw line carved by Adonis himself; they would say he had the lips of a opera singer and the hands of a pianist and that his laugh could charm a unicorn and his smile could charm a happily married woman. He was simply beautiful. And they would all say that it was his eyes that completed him.
They were hazel with green, blue and gold flecks in them. When he looked at you he saw right through you, if you had eye contact with him it felt like he had burned every secret from you mind and taken them for his own and if, very unfortunately for you, you duelled him those eyes told you that he could take you down; they were plotting your downfall in one hundred different ways and his eyes would light up when he found the perfect way to disassemble you. Terrifyingly stunning.
"Mr Potter! Where have you been?" the Scottish voice of Professor McGonagall sliced through the air.
"Woke up late, sorry Minnie!" he announced as he slumped into his chair next to Sirius Black (well-known Hogwarts player and badboy, the disowned and impossibly attractive boy who was James's best friend) and tried to shut his ears as he waited for another tirade from his favourite teacher.
However, she just sighed and told Sirius to catch him up. Shocked, James's head whipped up to see McGonagall shaking her head with a slight tight-lipped smile on her face. Class resumed and Sirius, unsurprisingly, didn't help James catch up so Remus, resident werewolf and third member of their gang, passes James his notes and accepted the smile he got in return as thanks.
The lesson, as per most Transfiguration lessons passed slowly for James. He knew all this. They were learning about animagi and as he, Sirius and Peter (the last member of their infamous gang, the Marauders) actually were illegal animagi, he knew the ins and outs. Remus, kind and well-mannered Remus, was a werewolf and after finding out in second year the pain he goes through every month they decided to help in any way they could and after a year of research and another two years of experimenting they did it and have never looked back since.
Boredom and James Potter don't sit well together. Boredom and Sirius Black also don't sit well together. Boredom, James Potter and Sirius Black, however, were all the ingredients needed to make trouble. As school pranksters, they felt it was their duty to make this lesson more interesting and so when the practical half started James and Sirius shared an identical malicious smile and waved their wands in unison silently, having mastered non-verbal spells last year, and suddenly everyone's hair in the room lifted from their head and swapped with the person sitting next to them. Everyone's except James's, Sirius's, Remus's and Peter's. It didn't take a genius to figure out who did this and Lily Evans was certainly something of a genius.
Lily Evans and James Potter had an interesting relationship throughout their lives. From the moment they saw each other they fell in love; however, they were eleven and he thought she was just an angel and she thought the funny feeling in her stomach was due to the fact that she had just eaten a frog made of chocolate. As soon as he opened his mouth to her on the train later that day, Lily's love flipped was overshadowed by hatred. As soon as she opened her mouth to shout at him on the same train he fell. Hard. It progressed this way for a while, James thinking he would get over this stupid crush and Lily never giving him a chance until one fateful day down by the lake after the Defence O.W.L. when Severus Snape said that word mudblood to Lily and her life got turned upside-down. Her hatred for James moved onto Snape and all that was left was that love from when she was eleven; of course, she didn't tell him this, she couldn't bear the smug look on everyone's face as they realised that after years of chasing, James Potter had finally got Lily Evans so she maintained a stiff indifference to him until now. Sixth year.
Lily turned in her seat and looked at James who had fallen off his chair in his mirth and stomped over to his seat.
"Get up and change it back" she growled. No one mess with Lily Evans's beautiful ginger locks.
"Nah, don't think I will, actually" he laughed. By this point people were backing off, they had seen James and Lily's debacles throughout their years and didn't want to be caught in the crossfire.
"Ugh! Change it back you arrogant, pompous prick! It's not funny!"
"Yeah, it really is" Sirius piped up before being dragged to safety by Remus after receiving a death glare from Lily.
"Exactly, we're all having a laugh, why ruin it?" James's eyes danced with laughter as he asked.
"Only you and your idiot mates are having a laugh so change it back!"
"Nope, still out of the question"
"Why do you have to persist in being a prick?!" she shouted.
"Why do you have to persist in being a prude?" he replied, matching her volume.
"Oh my Godric! Just change it back! I hate you so much."
"If you hate me so much then why do you keep telling me off for things that weren't just me? What about Sirius-"
"-Hey don't get me involved-"
"-He was in on it too!"
"BECAUSE I DON'T HATE YOU, YOU MORON. You just want me to hate you and I try so hard to like you but you make it so. bloody. difficult." Each of the last few words was punctuated with a poke in his chest.
"It's not my fault you can accept a simple request that would make it all go away!" James smiled sickeningly sweetly.
Her head was screaming Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! What came out of her mouth was a "NO!"
Both were red in the face from shouting and breathing heavily, the only space separating them was the height difference and they both looked ready to kill and McGonagall thought this had gone on long enough.
"Stop! The pair of you! I expected better!" James and Lily spun on their heels, mouths wide open to tell the person that interrupted them to shut up but as they saw who it was they blushed and looked at their feet, ashamed. "Finally. Now, Mr Potter, change the hair of my students back please and then make your way to the Headmaster's office and the rest of you; sit down!"
With a flick and swish of James's wand, the hair returned to normal after an "it looked better as it was" from Sirius. James trudged out of the class and down the corridor and wandered in the general direction of the Headmaster's office. He reached the golden gargoyle within five minutes and tried to remember the password.
"Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean?" No. "Liquorice wands?" Nothing. "Cockroach clusters?" Nada. "Acid Pops?" Bingo! He climbed the staircase and after knocking on the door for a few seconds and waiting a few minutes, he opened the door and stepped inside. Now, James had probably been in the Headmaster's office the most times out of anyone in the whole school history but it never ceased to amaze him. The artefacts that adorned the shelves and desk were all incredible in the own right and the room itself felt like it had a life of its own.
A bird's cry made James smile, he and Fawkes the Phoenix had been friends since the first time he had been in this office when he had watched with scared, young eyes as Fawkes burst into flames in front of him only to be reborn and he let James pick him up and play with him. Fawkes flew over onto James's shoulder and nipped his hair affectionately
A picture on the far wall of the room caught his eye and he smiled at the resident of the portrait, at the bottom of the frame a plaque stated:
Harold Charlus Potter
Order of Merlin, First Class
Chaser and captain of Puddlemere United 1860-1869
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 1875-1901
"What did you do this time then, James?" He asked with a hint of a smile on his face.
"Swapped the hair of everyone in Transfiguration with the person sitting next to them, McGonagall looks marvellous with a mullet, by the way" He winked and Harold laughed heartily. Even Fawkes let out a choking-like noise which James interpreted to be a laugh.
"Oh I'm sure she would look better with a pixie cut, Mr Potter"
James turned so quickly that he almost slipped and Fawkes had to fly for a minute before he landed again once James had regained his balance.
"I, um, I mean, I didn't mean it?" he stuttered.
Professor Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm sure you didn't, Mr Potter. However, Minerva's new haircut is not the reason that I wanted to talk to you."
"Really? So you're not going to punish me?" Disbelief clouded James's features.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he said "Punishment can come in many forms, Mr Potter." At this James became slightly worried. What could that mean?
"Mr Potter, you are finishing your sixth year and in a couple of months you will be entering your seventh and I believe you have accomplished many things throughout these years, correct?" James nodded so he continued "However, you still haven't accomplished one goal that you have worked towards for all your time here." James looked confused for a moment, then frowned, and then maintained a stoic face.
"I believe I know to what you are referring." James muttered sadly.
"James, I am about to ask you a very serious question to which I want you to give plenty of thought and answer in due time, is that fine by you?"
James looked up and straight into his idol's eyes. They were more serious than he had seen ever before so he nodded once again.
"James, you show outstanding leadership skills in Quidditch, throughout the school you have respected, even with the Slytherins. Yes even them." He added as James snorted derisively. "You are one of the most intelligent and talented young man in the school, maybe the entire world, and people like you and so after heavy thought on this matter: would you like to be Head Boy next year?"
A moment of silence passed.
Then another.
And another.
"Um, this is a joke right?" James inquired.
"Not at all, my boy. You are the perfect candidate" Professor Dumbledore responded.
There was more silence as James mulled over the decision. A few minutes passed before the silence was broken by Fawkes. He crooned a song and Dumbledore smiled.
"James, why do you pursue Miss Evans so much?" Dumbledore asked suddenly.
"Huh? Oh I guess I um I quite like her and I, um, I" he trailed off incoherently.
"I beg your pardon, Mr Potter?" Professor Dumbledore was smiling by now.
"I said I er I think I love her, Sir." messing up his hair embarrassingly. He hadn't ever had a conversation like this with one of his teachers before and he was getting quite awkward.
"Yet she has shown no interest in you, James. So I'll ask again, why do you pursue Miss Evans?" He looked deadly serious and James faltered under his look. James took some time in answering this; why did he want Evans? Sure he thought he loved her but after six years of nothing one would think he would have moved on by now.
"I guess, Sir that I believe that happiness can be found, even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light and she is my happiness, Professor, and I think I am hers; she just hasn't turned the light on yet." Getting up from his chair he added, "Also, I'd be honoured to be Head Boy if there are no better candidates."
"There are none, James, thank you." And James left without dismissal because, after all, he was James Potter.
Albus Dumbledore has always said that he never had favourite students but as he watched James Potter leave his office that day through watery eyes, he realised that James Potter was definitely up there with his most loved.