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Four: Pulling out all the stops

James Potter was prankster extraordinaire; master of his craft, principle of all things big, bold and beautiful. He had perfected the profession of making huge statements, using brash actions. He knew how to paint a rose tinted hue over almost any situation; he was excellent at buttering just about anyone up like a slice of warm crisp toast.

He had perfected the art of wooing, the art of beckoning to him anyone he pleases. He knew just what to say, how to say it; he knew what shade of praise he needed to use to achieve his goals. He knew how to compliment a person, how to lure them into his victorious grasp. He understood well the rules and he acquired the tools to trek his way into a person's heart, he knew well how to leave his unique mark on a person; stamping them with his individual charm, his suaveness, his chilly attitude.

In the eye of his many admirers, James could do no wrong; he was an infallible being, worthy of nought but their attentions, their lustrous gazes and infectious smiles.

James Potter pulled out all the stops. He did his utmost to ensure that he was wanted, loved and adored by only one person.

Unfortunately, the one person his heart truly desired seemed to be immune to his natural charm. Maybe even allergic to it. Lily Evans, a fine specimen of a woman; perfect in his eyes in every way. She was infallible to him, she could do no wrong. She was beautiful; striking green eyes that pierced right into his very heart. His body ached for her, physically, emotionally, mentally. He craved her, he craved her smile, her warmth, her mere presence.

But Lily Evans did not succumb to his ways. She held her stand, she left him nose in the air; disdainful, superior. She showed him no mercy, no emotion save spite.

James Potter would stare at her wistfully day after day, each time planning out a new plan, a plan that he hoped would break through her barriers and reach into her heart.

He pulled out all the stops each time, but each time he was denied. Her heart did not grant him access; his tactics were lost on her.

If only James Potter decided for once to change his technique, to swap boldness for subtlety, to exchange his cheeky charm for manners of a gentleman, he would undoubtedly realise a shift in Lily's behaviour. Her disdain would slowly turn to interest, her spite would merge into intrigue and the walls that she had effortlessly built would begin to crack, then break apart, then crumble until they would be virtually non-existent. James would then be granted admission, he would then be allowed to follow her carefully traced path that would inevitably lead him to her heart.

Their relationship would be like the calm after a particularly brutal storm, it would be like the cold sips of an exotic drink after a hike in the strong afternoon sun; it would be blissful, refreshing and well earned.

Such are the lives of Lily Evans and James Potter. It was just up to him to realise that he was pulling all the wrong sort of stops.

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