Disclaimer: The characters are not owned by me. JK Rowling is the one responsible for them.
James Potter was on a mission. For the first time in a year at least, he was without his usual sidekick, Sirius Black, and the reasonable, logical (though sometimes maternal) Remus Lupin. But this was his mission, one he had to complete without the help from his friends. This was the one time when he would have sole bragging rights and keeping rights, which was exactly what he wanted.
Getting up the slide was easier than he had expected. He'd seen it as a barrier that had to be brought down, because it fenced him off from one place he was curious to see. But simply mounting his broomstick and flying up the staircase until he saw the sixth-year girls' dormitory wasn't as fulfilling as he had thought it would be.
When James landed in the room, he noticed that it wasn't that different from his, except the facts that it was a bit tidier and had brighter colors around the room in the form of posters, comfort blankets, and other various stuff. The thought that this little solo adventure was not worth missing dinner popped into his head, but he quickly repressed it with thoughts about the glorious aftermath of his mission.
It took him a while to figure out which one was her trunk, but in the end, he went by judging which one had the most books sitting on the table beside the beds with the trunks at the foot.
Lily Evans, he decided as he rummaged through what he thought was her trunk, was a strange creature. He flicked through some obviously old letters that appeared to be written by a girl, and he quickly disregarded the bottles that clinked together when he shuffled through it. Then he pulled out the thing he'd come up to this room to steal.
They were pale pink and nothing outlandish. It felt like a colossal achievement now to have conquered the slide, get into this room, and hold this article of clothing in his fingers. Faintly he wondered what it would look like on her body, long white legs forming out of it.
The door opened, and the trunk he'd forgotten about at this point slammed close. Then the voice of the girl who he thought would be eating dinner sounded.
"Potter, what are you doing in here – are those my knickers?"
Lily Evans had unfortunately entered the room, and her green eyes flashed as she saw James Potter with her knickers in hand. He stood in the same place next to her bed for a long moment before he spoke.
"Well, I hope so," James said with a smug grin. "It wouldn't be so daring if I'd managed to steal Remus's shorts, although I doubt his would be pink and tiny."
"Is that the point of coming up here? To seem courageous so girls will swoon?" Her eyes narrowed at him while she walked over to snatch the pink item out of his hands.
"Well, I was hoping that one girl would swoon and agree to go to Hogsmeade with me this coming weekend," James said, standing where he was as Lily stomped to her trunk, opened it, and then chucked the knickers into it before turning back to James.
"No."
"But, Lily, I attempted an extremely dangerous mission just to get your attention." He grinned a cocky smile at her.
"I'm not going to swoon and fall in love with you when all you've done is gone into the girls' dormitories and steal knickers and flash a conceited smirk." She rolled her eyes as James suddenly smiled wider.
"Now, Lily," he said in the tone of a reprimanding teacher, "don't be so cold-hearted and cruel. Should I also steal a bra?" He raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps the one on your body at the moment?"
Lily huffed before marching to her bedside table and grabbing a book from it. She kicked the broomstick that was laying on the floor out of her way.
"James Potter," she began, clutching the book close to her chest, "if I ever fall in love with you, which probably is the same chance of your black hair suddenly and naturally turning neon pink, it would be gradual, and not the result of you stealing my clothes."
She walked back out of the room, leaving the door open. "And get out of there!" she shouted back up to him. James quickly opened the trunk and snatched the pink knickers and his broomstick before vacating the room.
Unfortunately for James's determination to make Lily fall in love with him, he had never learned to be patient, which was what now was expected of him; he was used to getting his own way. But now what he wanted didn't matter anymore.
Everything was in the hands of Lily Evans, the perfectionist, the studious prefect, the girl who wasn't interested in romance.
Damn, James thought as he debated how gradual could still be considered gradual.