I hate James Potter.
I think that's pretty obvious to everyone around me… except James himself. I don't know why he won't leave me alone, why he won't stop bothering me.
I hate the way he's always ruffling up his messy hair, I hate the way he's always smirking at me. When his mischievous hazel eyes meet mine, acid burns in my throat, and my hands shake with fury. I have never felt so much dislike toward someone, that urge hex him everytime I see him and his little friends.
There's something about James…I don't know what it is. All the girls fall for his good looks and cockiness, the same reasons they fall for Sirius. James acts like he's so hot—he knows he is. Last year, as a prefect, I'd always caught him snogging some girl in a random place. And every time, the girl was different from the one before.
"Hello, Evans," he would drawl, pushing the girl away from him. "Care to join us?"
Ugh.
James Potter is such a womanizer, such a playboy. I'm probably the only girl in our year that hasn't gone out with him, and I'm proud. I mean, even my two best friends—Jessie and Emma—have gone out with him. And they enjoyed it.
Why do I care so much about James?
He's asked me out so many times, and I just rejected him. He's mean, he's mischievous… but he's also kind of nice. Kind of. He talks to me a lot, and I try hard to ignore him. But James…James is just un-ignorable. Girls swoon when they see him! I've got to admit it, he is quite handsome. He and his always messy black hair, his lean muscles and his gold-flecked eyes.
But I still don't like him. I never will.
He's a complete bully to my ex-friend, Severus, and he's one of the four famous pranksters at Hogwarts: The Marauders. James is constantly causing trouble, charming girls, and annoying the shit out of me.
Pardon my language.
I just don't understand that boy. If he really wants a date, why ask me? I've only had a few boyfriends in my life; I'm not very experienced. I think he just wants to bother me, to make me angry.
James Potter. I can't say those two words without retching a little.
Nothing he'll do will ever impress me. I'll never accept his invite on a date—I'd rather go to one of Professor Slughorn's awful parties.
He treats me like a friend, but I treat him like an enemy.
This year—my last year at Hogwarts—I am NOT going to let him get under my skin. I'm going to stay away from him, that terrible black-haired, hazel-eyed troublemaker.
I will eternally dislike him.
I hate James Potter.