Disclaimer: JKR owns this shit. I own a dog and a toaster.
First Year
My jaw dropped. Who did this kid think he was, coming in here and insulting Sev like that? How did he radiate arrogance even though he was a couple inches shorter than I was, with messed up black hair and dull brown eyes? He wasn't remarkable in any way, yet he acted like he was Merlin's gift to wizardkind!
Second Year
Man, James Potter really makes me mad. He spent all of last term pranking me with his idiotic friends. Of course, he made sure I saw him on the platform at the start of second year. And, of course, his hair was as messy as ever, and he hadn't grown an inch. I was at least four inches taller than him, and he was still as pre-pubescent as ever. Ha.
Third Year
Okay, now I was pissed off. Puberty was supposed to hit you like a bus, but apparently Potter didn't get the memo. He had grown a couple of inches (Make no mistake, I was still taller than him) and his voice was a deep baritone that was totally disproportionate with his tiny stature. I slapped him when his eyes lingered on my chest too long. (How come Potter and Black were the only guys who didn't get acne?)
Fourth Year
I was so glad Potter hadn't grown any taller. I was by no means a giant, but I was still a couple inches taller than he was. When I pointed that fact out to him, he shrugged nonchalantly and said that he would grow six inches over next summer. 'Potter genes' was his excuse. Pffft. Right. (He still had no acne. What the fuck?)
Fifth Year
Dammit. He was right. He had grown to be at least six feet tall over the summer, his hair was shoulder length (still messy, mind you) and he was still an arrogant prick. In fact, the first thing Potter asked me was if I wanted to go out with him, and when I rejected him, he shrugged and inquired as to how the weather was down there. I promptly slapped him and stalked off.
Sixth Year
Oh my Merlin. What the fuck happened to James Potter? He had to be approaching six foot four at this point. My head still hurts from when I bumped into his chiseled torso on the platform. His pecs hurt! Yes, his pecs. I guess Quidditch finally paid off, because he was, I'll admit, completely cut. To make matters worse, his baby fat had totally disappeared from his face, leaving a masculine and strong jaw line. Of course his stupid messy hair framed his gorgeous hazel eyes perfectly. Wait. Since when did James Potter have hazel eyes? And since when were they gorgeous? As a matter of fact, since when was he gorgeous?
Well, fuck.
Seventh Year
Something is terribly wrong.
There is no more light in James Potter's eyes. His strong jaw line is marked with stubble, (which just adds to his appeal) and there is a small scar that mars his upper lip. He no longer walks with a confident swagger, but the shuffling gait of someone utterly defeated. I noticed that his parents didn't see him off this year.
Oh, shit. His parents.
Why? Why did it have to be James? Why didn't it happen to someone who wasn't brave, loyal, kind, and extremely intelligent? Why did it have to be the young man I had fallen head over heels for at the end of sixth year? He barely noticed me as he stepped on to the train, only allowing a small smile to grace his perfect lips as he saw me in his peripheral vision.
I made a vow, then. I would get my James back.
No matter what.
A/N: Shut up. It was 3:00 in the morning, and plot bunnies in my head kept on not letting me get to sleep. This was only to cure my insomnia.
Reviews are sky-rockets in flight (afternoon delight).