AN- for Nanii- NRC-, who is amazing and beautiful and a truly wonderful friend. Nan-meister, I'm sorry I always write you this pairing, but I just had inspiration and it all kind of spiralled…

But anyways. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, I hope you had a great day. Everyone, you should go spam 'Nii with birthday wishes now, yeah? :)

Carpe Diem

Make her smile, and she'll be your friend. Make her laugh and she'll love you. Make her happy and she'll always be yours.

It's pretty simple, to get Rose Weasley to fall in love with you.

She falls all over the place- for Malfoy, for Scamander, for Teddy. She can't seem to help it. No control, just one huge heart that's intent on being broken.

And god, it makes him so angry, because she'll fall for anyone, it seems. Anyone. But not him. Not him. Not ever.

He doesn't understand it. He's popular, handsome and painfully cool. Why wouldn't she fall for him?

But it's only in his dreams, his happy, peaceful dreams, where they're not related. That's a perfect kind of fairytale land, where they hold hands and laugh and have those slow, soft kisses that surely mean true love.

Does he believe that'll ever happen? No. Or course not.

(Yes)

…He can't fucking help it, okay? Even though he's James Sirius Potter, self-proclaimed King of Gryffindor, and she's Rose Weasley, that nice little nerdy Hufflepuff, his cousin, he can't help it. He figures that, if he feels these things, if they're so wrong and he feels them… then why wouldn't she? She's Rose. She falls in love- that's just her thing.

And it can be his thing, too. With her.

No it can't, though! And it's won't. Never. He's got to stop thinking like this, before he gets hurt.

It's just a crush, right? A stupid little crush, and one that's incredibly easy to get over. What's he feeling is probably just brotherly protective stuff. Cousinly. That's what he's supposed to feel. And that's what he does. Probably. Maybe. Could be.

But it's different from that. He doesn't find himself imagining himself with Roxy or Molly or Dom, or taking their hand and kissing it, working up their arm, then neck and jaw, until he reaches their lips and dissolving into the feeling of kissing them, the pure bliss, the passion in which he flows, the…

James! He berates himself for getting carried away. He forces his mind to Transfiguration. Nice, non-sexual, non-Rose-related Transfiguration. He quite likes Transfiguration. He likes the power, the feeling that rushes through him as he turns one object into another completely different. It's almost scientific, as he images the elements stretching and reshaping themselves in the object. He loves it.

Rose, she hates Transfiguration. She finds it difficult, irritating. She can't find the joy that James can. He wishes they were in the same year, so he could help her and watch as she struggled, her lips pursing in the shape of frustration that she never seemed to notice…

God. He just can't stop it! It's ridiculous, and he's weak and stupid. He could have any girl. He's never had to even go to Hogsmeade alone if he didn't want to.

But when he goes with these other girls… they're all lovely and sweet and funny and beautiful, but they're just not the one he wants, so they leave with a 'let's be friends' and a smile, happy with their date.

While he just pines like a fucking dog after its master.

He can't hold it in much longer. He's buried it again and again for nigh on two years now, and he just has to know. He's a Gryffindor, after all. He should seize the day, grab it with both hands and never let it go in his reckless, brave, Gryffindor way.

"Hey, Rosie." He voice barely shakes as he sits down next to her. "You okay?"

She glances up at him and raises her eyebrows in that simple little quirk of hers. "Do I look okay, James?" she replies, and it's then that he realises there must be a reason for her to be sitting in the Charms corridor at eight in the morning with tear tracks down her cheeks. He was so wrapped up in to talking to her, he never really noticed before.

"Oh," he says, for a moment unsure of what to say. "Of course not." He sits there for a second, terrified, having no clue of how to deal with crying girls. Hesitantly, he puts his arm around her, trying not to shiver with pleasure and nervousness. He figures he must being doing something right, for she leans into him, her head on his shoulder.

After a few minutes of them sitting there, him wondering what is going through her pretty little female head, desperate to ask but worried that it'll blow his chance- what little of one he has, anyway- she whisper something, breath tickling his jaw.

"Scorpius broke up with me."

He frowns, confused. "Again?" he asks bluntly, before he can think. He winces as he realises what he's said. "I mean- what a dickhead! Why?"

She sniffs, and he figures she won't really have noticed his blunder. Probably. "He just said that he thought we were better off not being a couple and walked off. It's all my fault, anyway."

James frowns, confused. From what he can see, it's the dude's fault. He tells her so, and she just sniffs again and sighs. "No," she tells him, "He was right to break up with me. In fact, he shouldn't have gone out with me in the first place. I'm too ugly."

He sits up suddenly, fury running through his body, fury at Malfoy and at her, this girl who refuses to see herself for who she truly is. "Shut up," he tells her, and she looks up at him through eyelashes glistening with tears in a way that's so incredibly sexy that he completely forgets how he was just about to give her an inspiring talk on respecting herself.

He just gives up, gives in. He leans in and kisses her.

So many people would tell him how wrong what he's doing is, how inherently disgusting, perverse, gross. But their lips move in simple synchronisation, and he doesn't know if it's just the moment or he's her rebound guy or whatever, but she's kissing him back and it feels so real, so right that he just can't stop.

He wonders why she's not pushing him off, yelling, revolted with his actions. He doesn't dwell on it too long, though, caught up as he is in this moment, this wonderful, insane, perfect moment. He just flows with it, seizing his day, carpe diem, hakuna matata and all that shit.

But he thinks later, when they've been separated by a shocked Professor McGonagall- who he respects even more for trying not to judge them, even if he can see in her eyes the discomfort she feels- that maybe, just maybe…

Maybe little Rosie Weasley, who loves anyone and everyone, has given him a little piece of her heart.

AN- I'm not too sure, but I hope you liked it, Nanii :)