A/N: This is also from a 100-prompt challenge that my sister made. This is based on prompt number 28: Eyes. (Incidentally, if you're interested in the prompt table, check out crystallicrain's livejournal.)
Lily and her gorgeous eyes, James and his misguided attempts to snog Lily, and the rest of the marauders and Hogwarts are all the intellectual property of J. K. Rowling. No offense is meant by my clumsy manipulation of her world.
( e y e s )
Lily Evans had the most gorgeous eyes that he had ever seen.
He told her this frequently, in ways so poetic and varied that he often had to scribble notes to remind himself of his latest stroke of brilliance. Normally, he was able to restrain his enlightened scrawls to the margins of his class notes, but the occasional genius eloquence did inspire him while in the midst of a transfiguration test or a charms exam. He certainly did have a time of it, trying to explain to Professor McGonagall that no, in fact, he wasn't attempting to bolster his grade by hitting on her (not like he needed to).
But this time . . . "Oh, this time, you've truly outdone yourself, Prongs, old boy," he whispered to himself with a grin and shake of his unruly head. Madam Pince sniffed warningly in his direction; he remembered the time he had written a divinely inspired sonnet on the nearest parchment-- which had, unfortunately, been a part of Hogwarts: A History. Not like anyone ever read the bloody thing. Except Moony.. but he didn't really count.
But yes, he reminded himself. The brilliance. The line that would woo Lily Evans and cause her to immediately snog him in the nearest secret corridor, supply closet, or perhaps even behind the broom shed. He grinned again, and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. This time, it would work, and he wouldn't end up in the hospital wing. Unless, of course, it was from too much snogging. He sobered for a moment. Was it possible to sprain your tongue doing that? Or break it? That was an unpleasant thought. But it'd be worth it, he thought with a huge smile.
He could picture it now. Passing her in the halls, he would place his hand on her arm and say with his most charming grin, "Evans, your eyes are greener than the Quidditch field after the first spring rain. Greener than that Refreshing Draught was supposed to turn out in Potions, despite Peter causing ours to turn a rather orangeish colour. Greener than the merfolk in the lake-- and without any of their unpleasant screeching." And, of course, she'd look deeply into his eyes, blush slightly, and sigh, "Oh, James Potter, we simply must snog behind the broom shed, or, rather, the most conveniently located secret corridor and/or supply closet."
James thought for a moment. Were, in fact, the merfolk green? Or were they greyish? He couldn't remember. He'd have to ask Moony. But no! he thought resolutely. It's artistic, or maybe poetic, license. Hell, he'd invoke both licenses if he had to. Even if the merfolk weren't green, then her eyes would, in fact, still be greener than them. Hah! he thought triumphantly. Victory is mine.
And with that, he confidently picked up his books and headed for the corridor where Lily's next class was. He breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth, shook his shoulders and arms to loosen them up, as before an important Quidditch match. The bell signaling the end of the class period sounded. James performed a quick breath-freshening charm on himself and cleared his throat. He quickly ran his fingers through his hair and fluffed to ensure that it was in prime condition.
Soon enough, throngs of people filled the corridors. He could see Lily's fiery hair down at the other end, and he was in a prime position to intercept her, like a Slytherin Chaser. Well, no, she was rather much prettier than the Slytherin Chasers, who were incidentally all male. Perhaps Ravenclaw? Or there was a cute girl on the Hufflepuff team, but she might have been switched to Seeker... Focus, Prongs! he chastised himself. She was almost next to him.
As Lily passed him in the halls, he placed his hand on her arm and said with his most charming grin, "Evans, your eyes are greener than the Quidditch field after the first spring rain--"
"James Potter," she said, jerking out of his grasp with a look of loathing in her eyes, "I told you to never lay a hand on me!"
"Er, well, yes, yes, you did," he said, his smile flickering for a moment, "but I didn't really think you... meant it." A small crowd was gathering, but for most of them, these scenes between James and Lily were rather commonplace and they gave the pair a wide berth before continuing on to their next classes.
"I also told you that I am currently seeing someone!" Lily said, her gorgeous eyes lit with a fire that only very, very intense frustration can bring.
"I didn't really think you meant that, either! And extra Potions with Slughorn doesn't really count," he added, his most charming grin slipping off his face despite valiant efforts to retrieve it.
"Why wouldn't I mean it? I did mean it-- I do mean it!" Lily cried, stomping a foot in frustration. "Contrary to your belief, Potter, you are not the perfect man!"
"Well, then, who is this 'perfect' guy you're gracing with your presence?" James countered. This wasn't good. He was aiming for playful banter, not a full-out fight.
Lily clenched her jaw and flushed slightly. "I can't tell you."
"Hah, fine! I knew it! You're not really seeing anyone, are you?" James crowed. "You just said that to get me to leave you alone." By this time, the traffic in the corridor had thinned to a trickle of people as the time before the next class drew quickly nearer.
"No, I am," Lily said, more quietly. "He.. doesn't really want anyone to know about it, though we've been going out for a while. I probably shouldn't have even said this much," she added, looking down at the ground.
Bloody hell. She was serious. Either that, or a very great actress. He felt his heart sag, but said lightly, "Now I know you're lying. Any guy at Hogwarts lucky enough to actually date you would want to brag about it. You're not exactly a secret to be kept."
She looked up at him. "Thank you... I guess," she said, an odd expression in her eyes. "Excuse me. I'll be late for class."
He bowed. "Then I'll tell you how gorgeous your eyes are some other time."
Again, that strange look in her eyes. She said with a half-smile, "You know... sometimes simple is best." She adjusted the strap to her bag, then headed for the classroom door. "See you, Potter."
"See you." James started away from the door, hands in his pockets. He knew he'd be late for class as he walked slowly through the various halls and staircases. The bell rang again, and he sighed.
Well, he was right. That last line hadn't landed him in the hospital wing.
He almost wished it had.