As I may have mentioned, my pudding prank had cost me a week of detentions. A week of nights curled up in an armchair, chatting with friends and sipping butterbeer. But still, it had been worth it to see him covered in pudding. And, believe it or not, I was sort of kind of half way looking forward to the next detention we'd be forced together. Hopefully, it would be a semi-bearable movie this time.
I started the movie before he got there. He was late, anyway. With a sigh, I stretched out on the couch, crossing my ankles on the other side. Just as opening credits were finishing, he breezed in, hand running nervously through his hair.
"Evans," he acknowledged with a smile.
"Hello, Potter." Ha. I really am more mature than he is—forming full sentences and such. A smug smile perched on my lips.
"Why so happy? Is the movie as great as it was last time?" he asked with a grin, obviously hoping that we would laugh over a stupid movie again. Before I could answer, he plopped down right on top of my feet.
Now, I'm not a wimp, but James Potter is no featherweight. Adding to the fact that I twisted my ankle yesterday running after Alice's frog in transfiguration, it was very painful. "Potter!" I screeched.
"Bloody hell, I'm sorry, Lily. And after you twisted your ankle…" Did I mention he knows everything about me? "Here." He lifted up my feet, and before I could protest, sat down on the end of the couch with them in his lap.
"Let go of me, please." Even as I reprimanded him, he began to remove my socks with gentle hands. A blush rose to my cheeks.
"Lily Evans!" He waggled his finger at me in the best imitation of Miss Pomfrey, the assistant in the Hospital Wing, I had ever seen. "Don't be worried about me touching your feet! We just need to concentrate on getting you well."
I laughed a little bit, and his face lit up. "Don't be mean, Potter," I said, but I was smiling.
"Not at all, not at all, Lily dear. Poppy and I are very good friends, even if I do mock her every once in a while. There." He patted my still crossed ankles (as if I was letting him look up my skirt! Ha!) and I remembered, happily, that I had shaven my legs that morning.
I just rolled my eyes at him, but he looked delighted. "You're not yelling at me yet," he smiled.
"That remains a firm yet, Potter. Don't get your hopes up."
He ignored the rest of my remarks. "Won't you call me James?"
I snorted. "No."
"But why not, dearest? Friends really should refer to each other by their first names, don't you agree?"
I eyed his hopeful face, wondering why I was being so tolerant. "Are we friends?"
"Are you just answering my question with a question because you couldn't think of an answer?"
"Why would I do that?"
He smiled. "Aren't you just trying to confuse me?"
I held a hand over my heart, as if in shock. "Do you really think I would do that?"
He began to rub my cold feet gently. I kicked him. He stopped, and looked at me with a grin. "Do you realize that we haven't been watching this movie at all?"
I sighed, turning my attention to the television. It seemed to be a romantic comedy. I shrugged mentally. At least it was better than a musical again.
The man began to sing. No such luck.
As the relationship of the two characters progressed, I became more and more bored. Finally, it was painful. I took my feet out of James' lap, curling up into a ball on my side of the couch. He shifted next to me, his arm brushing mine.
"I hate this movie!" I exclaimed suddenly.
He looked slightly alarmed, but mostly surprised. "Why?" he asked cautiously.
"Because, well---just look at them! She's hated him her whole life, he's done all this shit to her and her friends, and been really obnoxious and conceited, and then she just starts falling for him because of her god damn hormones! She doesn't even forgive him. She's just too nice to be a bitch and tell him to get the hell away from her. And so then, before he even apologizes, she just wants to tear her clothes off? No! Girls have brains, and they don't like guys who screw them over just because they happen to be attractive!"
He was leaning closer to me, a thoughtful look on his face.
I know, I didn't believe it either.
"You know those pranks in second and third year?" I raised an eyebrow. "You know, I wasn't that good at magic. I never knew that that curse would actually make her hair fall out. I just wanted to give her a scare, because that's what guys do when they need attention from a girl's best friend. Maybe," he gestured at the screen, "Maybe she forgives him because she knows it was an accident—or, at least that he never meant to hurt her. He just wants her to pay attention because he knows that she's the woman that he's going to marry."
I looked at him sharply. "And how would he---or anyone, for that matter---know that?"
He smiled slightly. "Because he's read the script." He leaned closer and closer, we were only an inch apart. I knew he was going to kiss me. I bolted straight up from the couch.
"Detention's over," I informed him prissily. "Do you think this movie is appropriate?"
"What?" He looked shocked. Good. I was glad something could give even the great James Potter a scare.
"The movie," I said, tapping my foot. "We were screening it to make sure that it was appropriate for a second year to watch."
"Oh yeah, that." He was messing up his hair again. It's a nervous habit of his. "Um, sure?"
"Okay, well, I'll go give it to McGonagall then. See you tomorrow night."
"Wait! Lily!"
I was impatient. "What?"
"Hogsmeade on Saturday?"
I sighed. "I told you I'd get back to you, I suppose. I promised Alice I'd go dress robe shopping with her, but I don't know, I guess it'll depend on how picky she's being. So—I'll get back to you. Bye, Potter."
He smiled. "See you tomorrow, Lily."