A/N: This is just a simple one-shot about Lily finally realizing she likes James. It takes place at the beginning of seventh year, and isn't meant to be taken seriously. Seriously.
Ridiculous Thoughts
The tip of her quill felt good against her chin.
Lily Evans shook her head to rid herself of such ridiculous thoughts.
She was supposed to be finishing up on this Transfiguration essay, not thinking about how the end of her quill felt against her chin, though it should've felt good – it was eagle feather, after all!
She focused her attention back on her essay.
She only needed one and a half inches to go before she was done.
She tapped her quill against the wood of the library table and urged her brain to think.
Think. Think. Think.
How hard was it to think? Honestly.
Any idiot could form a thought.
That made it all the more embarrassing that she couldn't.
"Okay," she whispered to herself, exhaling and inhaling, "Lily Evans, you are a smart and clever witch, you can certainly think of a few more sentences to finish off this essay, can't you?"
It was then that she realized Frank Longbottom was gazing at her as if she were insane.
Well, perhaps she was.
She was talking to herself.
Lily smiled at him, embarrassed blush coming to her cheeks. Looking at her with wide eyes, he slowly backed away and then dashed for the nearest exit.
She shrugged and returned her attention back to her essay.
She'd worry about the consequences of Longbottom thinking she were mental later.
Now – Now she had to finish this damned essay.
Lily put the quill to her parchment and just as she began on a fancy, loopy-form of the letter 'G' something made her jump in her chair.
She looked up to discover it was the worst prat in the world.
Potter.
Even his name sounded stupid.
She glared across the library at him. The git (along with his best mate Sirius Black) had been fooling around in an aisle of books, and had accidentally knocked over an entire bookshelf.
She nodded her head in disapproval.
When wasn't that git doing something idiotic? He was completely stupid.
His entire existence consisted of Quidditch, bragging about himself, flirting with girls, playing pranks, and slacking off.
It wasn't a wonder why she hated him.
James Potter, with those light hazel eyes, and that smug, sideways grin, and – and the way he looked in those Quidditch robes, all hot and sweaty after a good, rugged Quidditch match…
Wait.
Was she thinking of James Potter in an attractive light?
All right, she admitted, perhaps he was attractive. She felt her face grow warm all of a sudden. She swallowed with a gulping noise, and couldn't dare to believe she had just admitted to herself she found Potter attractive.
Okay, so he was. She admitted it. There wasn't a crime in that, right?
It was obvious he was good-looking, but that didn't mean he was a good person, and that certainly didn't mean she liked him any better.
She tore her emerald eyes off of Potter and Black getting berated completely by Madam Pince, and forced her eyes to return to the yellow material of her parchment.
Her essay, that's right! She had an essay to finish…
…Stupid Potter had distracted her.
What a klutz, knocking over an entire bookshelf.
Even if he was apologizing to Pince about it that didn't mean he wasn't a jerk.
What made him a jerk again? He had always actually been nice to her, she realized. A perfect gentleman, in fact.
Sure he obsessed over her till the point of no end, but he was always generally nice to her. He had held doors open for her, had defended her against others, and had greeted her a good morning almost every day of every year.
James Potter was nice…to her.
But that certainly didn't excuse the way he treated everyone else. And how egotistical he was!
Well, she argued with herself, everyone else always praised him. He never actually brings his talents up…he only goes along with it.
And then she realized she did the same. Did she ever stop teachers from praising her?
No.
Everyone liked to be praised.
Okay, so Potter and her had more in common than she thought.
That still didn't mean she fancied him.
Woah. Wait. Where the hell had that thought come from?
One second she was admitting he was handsome and then now she was denying she fancied him?
That's exactly what girls did when they liked a guy.
But she didn't like him.
She was sure.
He was James Potter. Potter.
Ew, she thought, Potter. Yuck! Petooey! Never in a million years!
Yet it was then that she realized her eyes had somehow traveled from her parchment to Potter off in the distance again.
She had been gazing at him for over a good minute now.
She snapped her eyes away and could feel incredulity building within her.
Oh no, she repeated over and over again, Oh no, oh no, oh no! I…I think…no, never. But – But yes…no…I…oh god! I think – I think I fancy Potter.
The thought was so ridiculous she wanted to laugh and at the same time cry from shame and disgust.
Her bright eyes looked over at him again, as he bent down with Sirius and collected the fallen books from the floor.
Not a bad backside either, she found herself thinking. Wait, what did I just think?
She slapped her hand to her forehead and let out a groan.
She must be going mental. Longbottom was right. She was crazy. This couldn't be happening.
She couldn't fancy Potter. It was just against some law somewhere.
It was ridiculous. Utterly, utterly ridiculous.
And yet, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his backside.
When he stood up straighter she almost growled in disappointment.
She liked Potter.
There was no denying it – she liked James Potter.
And she had it bad if she was checking out his butt.
"Oh," she whispered to herself. She was facedown on the smooth, cold surface of the library table. Her face was burning red. "I fancy Potter. It's so ridiculous that it's true. It's so ridiculous that I do. And yet I'm finally tempted to buy one of those 'Sexiest Bachelors of Hogwarts' calendars to hang up on my wall now. Potter's Mr. February. Mmmm. I'll definitely be looking into that."
- FIN -
A/N: Thanks for reading. Reviews are good for the soul. ;)