A cheesy little one-shot for Valentine's Day. Enjoy!
Hazel Eyes
He always stared at her.
Back when they were First Years, when they first met on the Hogwarts Express, he wouldn't stop staring at her.
His wide hazel eyes gazed intently at her. Tentatively, she brought a hand to her mouth, wondering if a bit of lunch had clung desperately to the corners of her lips as one last futile attempt to escape. But as far as she could tell there was not a crumb. Maybe her hair was out of whack. Her hands rose to her head and tried smoothing the frizzy locks down. As she did so, the sides of his mouth twitched into a smirk, and she shot him the dirtiest glare she could muster. Still, that didn't keep her from shifting uncomfortably in her seat, doing anything to distract her from those piercing eyes.
That was just the beginning.
By Third Year the staring had developed into borderline stalking.
One Sunday afternoon she was studying in the library. All was peaceful. Most of the students were outside enjoying the last bit of sunshine before the inevitable frost soon to come later that October. He was at the bookshelf right next to her table, flipping absentmindedly through a worn tome but his gaze was fixed on her.
"Do you want something?" she spat out after dealing with half an hour of his staring.
"Course not," he scoffed, "I'm looking for books. Merlin, Evans, it's a freaking library."
"Then why are you just standing there staring at me?" she replied spitefully as she gathered her belongings. If annoying gits like him were going to be there she'd rather study in her dorm room.
"I do what I want," he answered smugly and ran a hand through his black hair. "Why, does it make you nervous?"
"No," she said and slung her bag over her shoulder, "I find it rather annoying."
With that she turned away, leaving him to stare at her back as she stomped out the library.
When Fifth Year came along, he became more eccentric with his staring.
The first Quidditch match she ever attended, there he was, eyes on her even as he somersaulted on his broom. Some girls behind her would start giggling nonstop whenever he'd pass, thinking it was them he was looking at.
"Oh my gosh, Lisa! He was totally looking at me that time!" one girl squealed.
"Was not!" the other girl yelled, "He doesn't even know you exist!"
"He is so hot!" shouted the last girl, close to Lily's ear.
She scowled. Why did she even go to the stupid game anyway? Everyone was yelling and cheering for the team. Colorful banners flew in the air. One red and gold flag was caught in the wind and ripped from its owner's hands. It rippled in the breeze and was sent high into the sky as if it too wanted to be free of the boisterous crowd.
"Number one, James Potter scores!" the announcer's voice rang through the stands. "That's 75 points for Gryffindor and 50 for Slytherin!"
Said Quidditch player took the time for a victory lap and as he flew nearer to the Gryffindor stands he paused to stare and pointed a finger directly at her.
"See that, Evans?" he shouted above the tremulous noise.
She was about to retort with some nasty comment but just then a bludger sped right at him, slamming right into the side of his head. There was blood, lots of blood. Cries- and cheers from the Slytherin fans- echoed throughout the stadium as their favorite player fell hundreds of feet to the ground.
She felt bad, she really did. She was a nice girl and didn't like seeing people get hurt, but he did it to himself. He was a complete idiot. What moron pauses in a game to talk to someone in the stands?
That was the last time he stopped to stare at her during a Quidditch match.
During Sixth Year they began to develop a kind of friendship or rather a mutual respect for one another. As summer slowly crept closer, their group of friends spent the afternoon outdoors on the grounds of the school. They sprawled out on the green grass, enjoying the sunshine and crystal skies.
She was chatting with an old friend and happened to glance over. There he was with his square glasses and hazel eyes fixed on her. She caught hold of them and smiled softly at his broad grin. He then mouthed something to her which she couldn't understand and furrowed her brows in puzzlement. He shook his head in a teasing manner and had just opened his mouth to repeat himself when the friend beside her spoke up.
"Lily, are you even listening to me or is James too much of a distraction?" she replied scornfully.
Her head snapped back to her friend and she could feel heat creep up her cheeks. "I'm sorry! I was listening but James was… Well, being himself."
"Whatever, Lily. I'm starting to have and inkling that there's something going on between you two."
"There's not!" she almost shouted bringing the attention to most of the people around her. "There's not," she repeated in a hushed tone.
Her friend leaned in closer and whispered, "If there's not something now there will be later."
From then on she couldn't look James in the eye again. Instead she would tuck down her head in an attempt to hind her blushing face.
As Seventh Years, their friendship kindled into something more and the staring intensified on both sides.
One night, during Professor Slughorn's annual Harvest Hop, she found herself in the company of someone rather peculiar and not with whom she wanted to be with. She glanced around distractedly as the conversation drawled on. Then her stomach back flipped when in strode the boy she had been looking for. In black dress robes and adorned with a burgundy bow tie, she couldn't help but stare.
He paused a moment at the door to scan the crowd. His eyes caught hers and with a brilliant grin and a hop in his step, he strutted over to her.
"You look beautiful," he said upon reaching her.
She shuffled with embarrassment and smoothed down her dark green dress. "Thank you. You look very nice as well."
"Thank you, Love," he replied. The pet name he gave her caused a bright blush to rise in her cheeks. "I think I look dashing myself."
She laughed and shoved him away playfully. "Of course you do, you prick."
He caught her wrist and pulled her into him. "Dance with me," he whispered in her ear sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.
"But no one else is."
"Who cares? There's music, a floor and a beautiful girl in front of me. What else is a bloke to do?"
She smiled up at him, so close their bodies were brushing against each other. "And what's a girl to do when a handsome fellow comes along and interrupts a pleasant conversation?"
"I'll take that as a yes," he said in a hushed tone and tugged on both her hands as he walked backwards to the center of the room. Eyes fixed unblinkingly at her. It was enough to make her heart race.
He pulled her into him and to a dancing position. One large hand in hers and the other far too low on her hips for their current surrounding- which was a room full of teachers and other respectable people (according to Slughorn). The music was a bit too fast for a slow dance but James was never one to follow the norm. They swayed to their own rhythm, and he swung her out to a twirl and brought her back even closer to him. She glanced around in embarrassment and noticed that all eyes were on the two of them.
"Everyone's staring at us," she mumbled.
"Because they're jealous I'm dancing with the most beautiful girl in the whole world," he whispered as he pressed his face to her hair.
"You're flattery, Mr. Potter," she cooed, "Will get you everywhere."
Abruptly, he stopped dancing and stared intensely at her, and she stared right back. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Until he dug his fingers in her hair and pushed her face to his. And he kissed her in the middle of a crowded room full of Slughorn's groupies and other respectable people.
Now she was standing arm in arm with her father, about to walk down the makeshift isle in the Potter's backyard.
"Are you ready, Baby Girl?" her father asked gently and squeezed her hand resting on his arm.
She only nodded, not trusting her voice. The jitters were getting to her, making it almost impossible to speak let alone breathe. The reality of the moment hadn't hit her until she put on her white gown and took her bouquet. She was getting married to her best friend and love of her life. No words could adequately describe the burning happiness she felt in her chest.
The music started and the door slowly swung open. All eyes fell upon her as she glided down the row, but her gaze was on the young man at the front. He had been fidgeting nervously up until that point. When he saw her his eyes sparkled and the most glorious smile appeared on his face. Their eye contact never wavered until her father handed her off to her very soon to be husband.
He took her hands as the preacher began the ceremony.
"Do you, Mr. James Potter, take Miss Lily Evans to be your wife?"
"Hell yes I do."
"Do you, Miss Lily Evans, take Mr. James Potter to be your husband?"
"I do."
"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."
That being said, James lifted the veil from her face and they kissed like the sun would stop rising and the moon would cease shining and the stars would never twinkle if they didn't. As if the universe depended on it.
And it all happened because one boy couldn't stop staring.