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A/N: thank you thank you thank you so much to all my reviewers and those who favorited and followed my story :D

Gemma noticed James had corrected himself. He stopped himself from calling her love. She missed it. She really did. But she wasn't all that sure what to make of their relationship. In these past two weeks Gemma had come to despise him, miss him and fancy him all at once. She was a bit confused, a bit disoriented. So after walking in silence for a long while, she was somewhat surprised when she coughed a bit and before she registered the words, she had said to James, "least favorite class."

He chuckled and responded, "I was wondering when this was going to start up again. Ancient Runes."

"Really now?" Gemma said, "I simply adore that class."

"I have no idea how you have the patience to just sit and translate symbols; it's so dreary and boring."

"Oh I forgot, James Potter, always fidgeting," she teased.

"Well I don't need to ask you for your favorite class, now do I?" he retorted.

Gemma hit him across the arm, "Shut up James."

"You know I could just tell everyone that our little miss perfect would not be passing Transfiguration without me," he prodded.

"You're incorrigible. You give yourself too much credit," Gemma laughed.

James shrugged his shoulders, "Eh, if that's what helps you go to bed at night."

"Believe me," Gemma grumbled, "it does."

"Most embarrassing moment at Hogwarts," James said smirking.

Gemma shot him a look as if to say 'are you joking' but settled with replying bluntly, "Third year—mistletoe."

"Gemma I'm hurt," James said feigning disappointment.

"Blimey! It's half past twelve! We should be getting back" Gemma said as she heard the clock tower chime.

The two of them turned around towards their dormitory and James noted, "You haven't offered me an explanation Gemma"

"I honestly don't think it needs one," she said dryly.

"Fine." James conceded.

"Anyways, don't think you're getting off that easy James, your turn."

They entered under the arch and took a seat on their usual loveseat. It was a familiar feeling that brought back good memories. "Must've been back in first year when mum sent me my first howler." James broke her from her train of thought

"I—I remember that!" Gemma said. "I thought you deserved it," she laughed.

"You're so kind."

"Don't flatter me James," she teased. Gemma bit her lip and then slowly asked, "there's something I've been very curious about this year James."

"Oh really? And what might that be love?" he asked.

Gemma smiled as she caught it, once again it felt familiar, and she had grown to like the name that James reserved for her. She then asked, "Why is it then, that I haven't seen the infamous James Potter, the bloke with a girl on his arm at every instant, with a girlfriend this year?"

"Wh-what?" he stuttered, "Well," he scratched the back of his head.

"James Potter, speechless?" Gemma mocked.

"In my defense, that question caught me off guard." James said.

"I didn't think anyone could do that," she said.

James looked at her, "not many people can."

Gemma met his gaze, "then I'm honored." She searched his eyes and saw a sadness and said quietly, "You still fancy her then?"

"Yeah," he said wearily, "I still do."

"Well I never thought I'd live to see the day that you," she pointed at him, "actually fancied someone."

James said, "shut up Bell. Or should we go on to describe this bloke you still fancy."

Gemma turned a bright shade of pink, "how-how'd you possibly know?"

"I can see it in your eyes," James said. "So you do still fancy him?"

Gemma sighed and said, "Well it's a bit complicated."

James nodded, "fair enough. Alright Gemma love, has there ever been a person you've hated for no good reason."

Gemma chuckled a little and said without missing a beat, "you."

"I did not see that one coming."

"James are you thick? That wasn't difficult to assume in the slightest." Gemma shook her head.

"Of course it was! I didn't think you actually hated me, I thought it was more of a strong dislike," James said in disbelief jumping up from the couch.

Gemma followed in suit. "James, coming from the very bloke who made me miserable from the very day I stepped off of the train, I find it very hard to believe that you don't believe that I did not like you at all."

"And do you still hate me?" he asked.

Gemma hesitated and settled for "yes."

"Why may I ask?"

"You drive me absolutely insane." Gemma said.

"Nice to know you think of me," he said with a wink.

Gemma scoffed, "You're an arrogant toerag you do realize?"

James ignored her and said, "But you did kiss me, I don't know, it's hard to believe that someone who hates manages to kiss me."

"James," Gemma said flatly, turning a bit pink in the cheeks, "I did not kiss you by choice. In fact, I had to kiss you, in front of the entire Gryffindor common room. Do you know what that was like?"

James laughed and said cockily, "of course I do, I was the other person. You have very nice lips by the way"

"Oh sod off."

"So you're going to tell me you didn't enjoy kissing me."

Gemma was now approximately the shade of a strawberry, "If I'm being completely honest."

"Yes," James said smugly, "If you're being completely honest."

"Fine then, if I'm being honest, I can easily say that I didn't enjoy that kiss in third year," Gemma said to him.

"I find that hard to believe, but I'll play along."

"Will you?" Gemma said amusedly. "And why is that?"

James stepped closer to her until there was a distance of barely a foot between their faces. "That's because love, you didn't say anything about the one we had this Christmas."

Gemma caught his eyes, the wonderful shade of chocolate brown, nearly hazel but not quite. She couldn't really mutter anything coherently and settled for "Uh-huh," or something equally intelligible.

"So I take it you don't deny that fact."

"You're full of it! James, I swear, I don't know how many times I've told you but your ego is larger than all of Britain and you have such an over inflated sense of self, you're too arrogant and I don't care how bright you actually are you flaunt around the school as if you—"

It was James' turn to catch her off guard. He had promptly moved his hand to the small of her back and lessened the gap between them. James brought his lips to hers and gently brushed them. Gemma's mind was literally screaming at her to stop but instead she proceeded to kiss him back. It was a sweet kiss, one that made butterflies rise in her stomach. She was well aware of James' hand on her back and his touch left electric sparks where he held her.

James pulled away and Gemma said to him in an airy voice, "own the place."

They were still in close proximity to each other when James said to her, "Is that so love?"

Gemma, in the process of regaining her senses simply nodded.

"So I know we only have one more Hogsmeade trip this February," he said softly, "and I was wondering if we might go together."

"Hold on James. So you're telling me that I'm that girl that made you look miserable this whole year?"

"I was not miserable."

Gemma looked at him and said, "You've got to be mad. I could see it in your face."

James opened his mouth to speak but he didn't get that far.

"And wait, that means—that—means—you—me. You fancy—oh!" Gemma connected the pieces.

James' face, for the seven years that she'd known him, turned a cherry red. "Gemma, yes, now if you don't mind, I'd really appreciate an answer."

Gemma's eyes widened. "So you mean as in a date?"

James scratched the back of his head. "Generally that's what is qualified as two people going out into town together, yes."

She sat back down on the couch and fidgeted with her hair. "I—I don't know."

"It's that bloke, isn't it," he whispered.

"Huh?" she asked confused. Then she laughed a little, "No, no, that's not it. James," she said suddenly, "What are we? What is this?" She looked up at him.

He stood next to her, steely eyed, expressionless. Gemma looked down again, studying the pattern on the rug. She then heard a faint, "I don't know."

The words hung in the air until Gemma managed to muster enough emotional strength to meet his eyes again.

"Just one thing," she said treading slowly, "that week. Why'd you do it? One entire week."

James smiled wearily. He looked tired, almost as if he'd given up. "Stand up Gemma, and conjure me a patronus."

"What?" she said taken off guard.

"Conjure a patronus, I promise it'll all make sense."

Gemma let herself think of James, just as last time, but this time she accepted the fact. He made her happy, so why was she so hesitant with her proposition? She had no idea. A bright light erupted from the tip of her wand and formed an elegant doe. James had also drawn his wand and murmured the spell as Gemma watched an animal erupt from his wand. Out came a beautiful, majestic stag that pranced across the dormitory along with her doe. A perfect pair. Gemma gasped.

"Do you think," James said in an even voice, breaking the connection, "that it's easy to see a patronus appear out of the wand of the girl you fancy, which matches yours completely? And not to mention, she's hated you for nearly seven years."

She put her hand gently on his arm. "It might not mean—"

"It might not mean what Gemma? Do you know how I know it means something?" he said with his voice rising.

"My grandparents, Lily and James Potter," he said to her.

"Is it the James—"

"Yes it's the James I'm named after." He said it bluntly. "My grandfather's patronus was a stag and would you like to take a wild guess as to what my grandmum's was?"

"So you're saying…" she started.

"Yeah, that's what I'm saying Gemma, that's what I assumed. I don't enjoy being toyed with Bell, now I've made myself clear about my intentions. I'm not saying you have to be my girlfriend or anything; I just want to make sure you know. I fancy you Gemma, despite how much you aggravate me. Let me know tomorrow morning."

"Wha—what? James, tomorrow morning, are you daft?"

He looked at her, she could tell he was serious. "One date."

They both headed towards their bedrooms in silence as Gemma finally conceded and said, "Fine."

As Gemma was about to step into her room she heard James call to her from the other side of the hall. "Quick question Gemma."

"Sure James."

"What was the third thing you smelled in your amortentia?

She hesitated before saying in barely a whisper, "You."

He nodded solemnly.

"And yourself?"

"Those stupid sugar quills you always carry around, the caramel smell, the ones from Honeydukes."

Gemma smiled. "You'll get your answer in the morning." And with that she went in and shut the door.