DISCLAIMER: I don't own James Potter, rowdy 12-year-olds, or fifteen-year-old cousins.
When James Met Libby.
James Sirius Potter has no idea why he's telling the story of how he fell in love. He's not even romantic! Falling in love went against everything he believed in … but it happened. And he invites you to listen if you dare. :James/OC recommended reading with GIR and CGIR NextGen:
Chapter 1: When James met Libby.
So I think you've gathered by now and I am absolute RUBBISH at telling stories. Seriously, if I had my way, this story would go, "I met Libby, we fell in love, BAM, the end!" But, of course, after I recounted my startling dramatic prologue, Rose came crashing into my flat, uninvited like she always does.
And she told me that my version was a bloody useless story.
"C'mon, James," she said with a roll of her eyes. "It's got to have more pizazz! Action, drama!"
"How the hell did you get in here?"
"Libby gave me a key years ago, I'm surprised you don't just leave the door unlocked," she shrugged.
"What, like you do?" I shot her look. "Rosie, as much as I appreciate your trust in the world, I'm not going to leave the bloody door unlocked–"
"Then I'll just have to keep using my key!" Rose said, cheerfully, and I sighed as she threw herself down onto the sofa next to me, her red curls a usual mess on her head. It seems I wasn't getting rid of her, especially when she dumped a whole load of magazines and papers on the coffee table in front of me.
"… oh, good lord, what is that?" I asked.
"Wedding shit," Rose shrugged. "I'm procrastinating. So come on, tell me your story! And start from the beginning this time, not your usual rubbish. When did you first meet?"
"Seriously, we have to go back that far?" I said in amazement.
"Well, you can't start a story halfway through the action," Rose reasoned. "That's like telling the story of your dad saving the Wizarding World by starting, 'Soooo, we've skipped five years of Harry Potter's training to be a wizard and Voldemort is back!' It makes no sense."
"I barely remember meeting Libby," I whined. "It was so long ago!"
But all right, I'll admit that I was kind of lying. I did remember meeting Libby Fletcher. It might have been a while ago – thirteen years, in fact – but the moment Libby came crashing into my life, I swear, was permanently seared into my brain.
It was October, 2017! It was a wet and stormy night, the wind was howling against the window panes …! Er, I mean, I think it was raining. Sorry, Rose told me to be dramatic.
I was twelve years old at the time and I was sitting in the joint common room. It was a huge and cosy sixth floor room at Hogwarts, created during the re-building of the castle in the aftermath of the Second Wizarding War. My dad always said that tension between the Hogwarts houses is what caused a lot of the destruction during the war, so when they started putting their beloved home back together, he had a say in what was built. The joint common room was created as an opportunity to let friends from other houses mix together.
Honestly? I'd mostly seen it as yet another convenient place to simultaneously throw wild parties and piss off the Slytherins.
I was stupid, a prankster, and a joker back then. Rose liked to call me and Fred her 'Idiot Twins' and I would have sworn that she was being stupid at the time, but now I can rather agree with her!
Fred and I were just sitting with our mates, being stupid as usual …
(2017)
"Maaaate!" Fred shoved me on the shoulder, nearly pitching me off the sofa entirely. "There's no way Frida is into you."
"Are you kidding?" I snorted. "She was completely eyeing me up after Transfiguration!"
"She probably had something in her eye," Jared put in.
"She did not!"
"Mate, this is Frida we're talking about," Jared's mate, Henry, pointed out. "With an arse like that, she could have anyone. Why the heck would she go for you?"
"Besides, isn't she in fifth-year?" Fred laughed. "She's about three years older than you!"
I grumbled and huffed at them, refusing to admit that they were probably right. My mates were all blokes and all rowdy. Honestly, I don't really know how to talk to girls (but don't pass that on). Jared and Henry were only two of many different people Fred and I talked to. While Rose had her little tight group of her, Al and Bea, my (stupid) brother and a sweet Ravenclaw like her, respectively, Fred and I simply stuck together and sort of drifted from group to group, around any person we thought was interesting. I have friends in basically every house! I might make fun of them sometimes, but that includes Slytherin, believe it or not.
We often talk rubbish like this. Things like 'Maaate, you're in!' and 'Don't go for it, you still need to reel her,' were often passed between us boys even when, I'll admit, half the time we don't even really know what we're talking about. But hey, I'm twelve, what do I know?
Suddenly, there was a loud burst of laughter behind us, and we turned to see a couple of Rose's mates from Ravenclaw, giggling together at us. The joint common room was packed with people, piled onto the various sofas, cushions and desks, but these two girls were standing behind our sofa, for some reason, still giggling in our direction.
While the other boys all preened and called out, "All righ'?" I narrowed my eyes. I'd learnt from my older cousins that if girls laughed at you, you should probably be worried. And these girls knew Rose. Granted, I'd never spoken to them in my life, but Rose was someone you wanted on your good side!
"I'm sorry, is something funny?" I found myself asking.
The girl with shoulder-length black hair exchanged a look with her friend, who had short blond pigtails. They were only first-years, but heck, they were Ravenclaws; they probably thought they were better than anyone!
"There's no way you could handle a girl like Frida Fletcher," the black haired girl laughed. "You're James Potter, right? Rose's cousin?"
"Yeah, and who the hell're you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" the girl said, eyes sparkling. Oh, dear, that's kind of frightening. Unfortunately, that only made me want to keep talking more. Seriously, James, shut up! She's clearly not your average first-year!
"Aw, Jo," the girl continued, turning to her blond friend when I didn't answer. "I think he's lucking out!"
"Oh, well," Jo teased, twirling a finger around one of her pigtails. "Maybe he'll get her next time?"
"Are you kidding me?!" I snapped back, sitting up onto my knees to lean against the back of the sofa. "I could handle Frida!"
"Mate, she's fifteen," the girl said. "One kiss from her and you would faint!"
"How would you know?" I argued. "You don't even know her!"
"Why, Jo, I think that was a challenge!" the girl said to her friend.
"I believe so!" Jo giggled.
"Fine, it was a challenge," I said at once, never able to take anything like this lying down. I think that's what got me into so much trouble from the professors. Unfortunately, far from pulling me back into my seat like a good mate should, Fred was busy encouraging me, telling Jared and Henry that I was totally going to choke. Ah, well, you have to die sometime! "There's no way she would even acknowledge your presence."
"I bet that she would totally acknowledge my presence," the girl countered, a defiant look on her face. "Even better, I bet I could convince her to kiss you and that you would completely pass out cold from it."
"Deal!" I said at once, sticking out my hand from over the sofa so she could shake it. I had absolutely no idea what I was getting into, none at all. "But first, you tell me your name."
The girl just smirked, before turning and walking across the joint common room, to where Frida sat with a load of her fifth-year mates. Jo perched on the back of the sofa next to me, folding her arms and shaking her head. "Mate," she scoffed. "You're done for."
"What? C'mon, there's no way–"
But the girl was walking straight up to Frida like she owned the place. Frida was one of those girls you couldn't help but take a second glance at; shiny brown hair, big blue eyes, she was freaking hot, every bloke with a pulse knew that! To a little eleven-year-old like the dark-haired girl, Frida would be intimidating and from what I'd heard so far, she often didn't give anyone not in her social circle the time of day.
But the girl waltzed straight up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. Frida glanced up and to my utter astonishment, the two started talking. I could see how the girl was pleading with the older, but there was no possible way she was going to convince a fifth-year to kiss me. A second-year wouldn't even kiss me! Um, not that I, er, wanted to broadcast that or anything.
… if anyone asks, Bridget and I totally snogged behind the third-floor tapestry, ok?
This entire situation was starting to become a bit bizarre. Where the hell had this girl and her friend come from? I knew that they hung out with Rose sometimes, since I'd often see them all sitting together at the Ravenclaw table as Al waved to them from Gryffindor. But I'd never bothered to find out who my cousin's friends were and, as I was currently learning, perhaps I should have. This girl was a bloody wildcat!
I didn't think it was possible, but about five minutes later, Frida was sighing and standing up. Eyes going wide, I panicked slightly as the two started to make their way back over.
"Oh, my god!" I yelped, seeing Frida approaching. "She's coming over! She's actually coming over! Merlin, mate, what do I do?!"
"You made the deal!" Fred laughed, shoving my shoulder. "You have to see it through!"
"Don't pass out, mate," Jared warned.
She wasn't actually going to kiss me, right? There was no way she was going through with this. No way at all –
"Hi," Merlin, there she was. Frida Fletcher. Standing right in front of me, where I was still stupidly leaning over the back of the sofa, on my knees. Gripping the top of the sofa so tight it was almost painful, I tried to look attractive, yet nonchalant as I grinned and flicked my fringe the way I had seen Teddy do it before,
"Hey," I said back.
"I hear you're James and you think I'm hot?" Frida asked, the black-haired girl moving to stand next to Jo, watching this entire scene play out with a look of pure amusement.
"I – oh, um –"
"Because my friend here had an interesting proposition for me," Frida added, nodding to the girl at the mention of her friend. Friend? How the heck were these two FRIENDS?
"Oh?"
"Yes," Frida took a step forward and I tried not to squeak. Buggering Merlin, she was only two feet away! "I kiss you."
"… and then what?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Frida shrugged, grinning now. "And what, indeed?" she said. "Why don't you tell me, if you're still conscious?"
"But I–"
I would have continued that statement with something, but it was almost a good thing that she cut me off with a sudden kiss, because I had no idea what that something was. My brain shorted out completely because, hell, I was being kissed! Someone's lips were touching mine, softly, almost playfully, and I could barely even think. I don't think I even moved.
Oh, my god, I was being kissed by a fifth-year!
She pulled away with a laugh, probably at my expression. I most likely looked like I'd been clubbed over the head. "Owl me if you dare!" she said lightly, before turning and walking away back to her friends, head held high and hips swinging, in perfect position to show off her arse.
I think I fell backwards onto the sofa. Oh, my god, that actually happened, didn't it? Frida Fletcher kissed me! She kissed me in front of the entire joint common room! Oh, my god, I can't breathe, I'm hyperventilating–!
"… is he going to be ok?" a girl's voice came from far away and I suddenly snapped back to the present. I had about five faces staring over me and I realised that three of them were my mates, the other two being the girls I had just met.
"I did not pass out," I insisted at once, accepting Fred's hand and letting him help pull me up.
"Maybe, but you did zone out for a good ten minutes," the girl teased, her blue eyes sparkling once more. I stood up hesitantly to face her, as she still stood behind the sofa with her friend, Jo. "I totally won!" she added.
"You … who the hell are you?" I insisted, trying not to sound as weak-kneed as I felt.
The girl gestured with a finger before resting her hands on the back of the sofa, letting her body lean across and towards me. I found myself leaning closer to her despite myself. She was in my face when she answered.
"My name's Libby Fletcher," she said with a smirk. "and don't you ever forget it."
Then, she was pulling away and dancing across the joint common room less than five seconds later. It only took that amount of time to put the pieces together and I ended up yelling,
"Fletcher? Are you and Frida RELATED?"
"She's my cousin, you idiot!" Libby called back.
For several seconds, I just stared in shock. Then, I sprang into action and did the only sensible thing I could think of:
I ran after her.
(2030)
Rose was sitting next to me, looking almost riveted. Which was, um, weird, because my entire recounted story, she kind of didn't say a word.
"… am I really that bad at telling stories?" I asked, tentatively.
"Are you kidding?" Rose said, grinning. "You could talk in a monotone voice and I wouldn't care! What happened after you ran after her?"
"It's kind of embarrassing," I admitted.
"More than what had already happened?"
"Fair point," I snorted. Trust Rose to call me out on that. It was kind of a struggle to think back to so long ago – and so much had happened since then – but I thought I remembered the parts that mattered. "Basically, I ran after her and complained that she had cheated a win out of me. I believe I even called her mean, at one point!"
"Mean? Really, James?"
"Hey, I was twelve!" I reasoned. "At twelve, 'mean' is almost on the same scale as 'cold, heartless bitch'."
"I'll give you that."
"So, well, we sort of ended up bantering back and forth for a bit," That part was clear in my mind: the spark in her eyes as she teased, the remarks cutting enough to bruise my ego, but not enough to hurt. I wouldn't have admitted it at the time, but it was sort of what I needed. It wasn't hard to figure out that I was far too cocky for my own good when I was younger, so for Libby to suddenly waltz in with her smirk and her popular older cousins, it had struck me hard.
Extremely hard.
"After a while, Jo pointed out that she and Libby needed to go meet their friends somewhere, so they left," I concluded. "Sorry the ending's so boring."
"Every single story can't be non-stop action, James," Rose pointed out for me. "If it were, we might just go mental with the overload! Besides, not every story is non-stop action, not matter how much you might like it to be."
"Like endless Quidditch!"
"Only without substitute players," Rose joked.
Oh, dear. I'm so very sorry, my imaginary audience, if this story does gets boring at points. And no doubt it will, just like Rose said! But I'll always swear something else big and drama-filled will be heading your way.
As we all know, I'm all about the drama!
See, for anyone else sitting in that joint common room, that day probably would have been completely insignificant. But for me, it kind of changed my life.
Because that was the first time I had ever run after Libby Fletcher and, honestly … I don't think I ever stopped.
A/N: This story will move between 'present day' (October, 2030, when James is telling the story from) and 'then day' (various years, the part of the story that James is telling). Line breaks are used between scenes, and I will always add the year to indicate that the story has gone back to James telling the story (and vice versa). Each chapter will always start with James in present day.
So this was how they officially meet! I apologise now that these first couple of chapters are shorter than normal. They do get a bit longer further in, I swear.
Thank you so much for all your support! Please, keep telling me what you think! I hope you all liked it. :)
Until next time -
- Moon. :D
