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I want to thank the Guest that reviewed, it's people like you that make me want to keep writing. Enjoy this one xx

Over the next few days, I try to stay as distant from James as possible, but my attempts are useless, as we live practically in the same room.

Both of us are honouring the truce, and we have a kind of routine now. In the morning, I get up at six, and James has already left for his run, always leaving me a hot chocolate on the coffee table, sometimes in different flavours. I shower first, then him, then we go to breakfast. After dinner, I usually go to the Gryffindor common room for a bit, and he goes off with the Marauders. We usually meet around nine, and talk about Head stuff, as we start our rounds next week, before I go up to bed.

He's being strangely polite, occasionally arrogant, and quite secretive. Sometimes, I swear he just appears outside the Heads' Dorm, or the Great Hall before dinner. It's weird, eerie, but I didn't have the courage to talk to him about it until now.

We're sitting the in the Heads' common room, him writing a letter, when I finally build up the courage to ask him. "James?"
He looks up from his parchment, frowning. "Yeah?"
"How do you do it?"
"Do what?" He looks worried now.
"Appear out of nowhere. It's making me nervous."
James laughs loudly and picks up his wand. "I'll show you." Swishing his wand, he mutters under his breath and a thick cloak comes flying down the stairs that lead up to his room.
Laughing at my stunned expression, he swings it around his torso, and I gasp as he completely disappears. I walk quickly over to where he was standing, and wave my hand around. He's not there.
"James...stop it!" I whisper, because I can hear him moving around, but he still doesn't reveal himself. Running over to the couch, I go to pick up my wand, but it's not there. "James... are you there?" I'm panicking slightly now, head cocked, listening for the sound of footsteps.

Suddenly, he barrels into me from behind, picks me up, and chucks me onto the armchair, laughing hysterically. I snatch at the air, and yank off his cloak to reveal him doubling over with laughter, clutching both of our wands. I punch him hard on the arm, so he yowls in pain and drops my wand, and then I point it at him, trying not to burst into laughter.

"If you," I hiss, "if you EVER do that again, I will personally ensure that you do not have children."
He tries to sober up, but keeps laughing. "So you like my Cloak?"
Although I'm still mad, I can't help but laugh at the idea of him creeping around the room with me calling after him.
He's choking, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "The...look...on...your...face...Merlin."
Sitting down on the arm of the big chair that I'm sprawled in, he throws his arm around my shoulders and starts to fiddle with the ribbon in my hair.
It's only then that I notice how close we are.

He seems to notice this too, because the laughter dies in his throat and he looks at me, hazel eyes staring into mine, making my breath hitch in my throat. His face is so close to mine, that if I moved an inch, we would be kissing.
Leaning in closer, he studies my face intently, and I find myself counting the gold flecks in his eyes.
There are too many to count.

He's got a strange expression on his face, like joy, but more, like he's about to scream, or cry, or both. I can feel the warmth radiating off of him, and I just want to be near to him, to touch him, to hug him.
To kiss him.
I want to be with him.
There, I said it.
I want to be with him so badly that it hurts.

The clanging bell that signals the beginning of curfew echoes through the room, and I practically jump out of my skin, falling off the chair and landing with a 'thump' on the floor. James jumps too, off the arm, and puts his hand out, offering to help me up. I take it with a grateful smile, and stand up, brushing non-existent dirt off my robes, trying to hide the blush that only James Potter can send to my cheeks.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

As I skip down the stairs the next morning, I'm surprised to see James sitting on the red love seat, running his hand through his hair. I walk over quietly, and sit down next to him, smiling as he jumps.
"Morning, Petal."
"Morning. How come you didn't go for your run?"
"Didn't feel like it." He sets his wand down on the table and shifts his body around, turning to face me.
"Look, Lily, we can't just pretend that last night never happened."
I sigh, and tuck my hair behind my ears. "Ok."
He blinks, "Is that it?"
"What do you mean?"
"You're the smart one, the one with the ideas. What should we do?"
Ok, Lily, think before you speak. Think before you-
"
We could just carry on as normal."
THAT WASN'T THINKING!
He looks vaguely upset, but nods assent. "Alright then, we will-"
"Or," I blurt out, "Or, we could just see how things go." The happy look on his face tells me that I've said the right thing, and I'm smiling like an idiot.

"Do you want to come with me to get your hot chocolate?"
"Sure."
He leads me out of the portrait hole, through the corridors, down towards a passage near the Hufflepuff common room, where there's a large painting of a fruit bowl. Stroking the pear, he grins at my gasp when the pear turns into a large green doorknob. Seizing it, I turn it sharply and push it open, walking into a large kitchen.

House-elves scurry around, carrying various types of food and calling out to each other.
"Mister James is here!" A small elf, obviously female, runs up to us, an empty mug in her hands. Her huge, light-blue eyes are filled with excitement, and she's hopping from one foot to another.
"What can we get you Mister James and his friend?"
"I've come for the daily hot chocolate, please, Sooky."
"What flavour?"
"Actually, they are for Lily here. What flavour, Petal?"
"Peppermint, please." The house-elf squeaks in acknowledgement and points at the empty mug, which fills with the fragrant drink. Thanking her profusely, we exit the kitchen and walk down the corridor, stopping by a tapestry with a bench next to it. Sitting down, I sip my delicious drink, and place it carefully on the floor, then lean against James, who slips his arm around my shoulders.

"Thanks James."
"It's no problem."
"Except it is. You come down here every morning to get me a drink!"
"You're worth it, Petal."
"Not really."
"No, Lily." He places a hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"You're worth it."

So that's how I know that I've fallen in love with James Potter.

Takk,
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx