James Potter. How to describe him?
He's arrogant. He's annoying. He's snarky. He's the biggest prat I've had the misfortune to meet. He is a showoff, a bully, a toerag. I could go on and on and on about how bigheaded, self-centered, aggravating, egoistic he is.
I hate him.
He loves me. Or so he says.
If you asked me about my thoughts on him, my immediate answer would be the entire second paragraph up there. But, if, say, you simply nodded and asked me to keep going, I would soon run out of words. Yes, that's a lot up there, and I have a big vocabulary, but a girl can only have so many insults to hurl at her sworn enemy, right? If you asked me to delve deeper into his being, you'll find me spewing more answers than I thought possible on James Potter.
He's got hordes of female admirers who would give an arm or a leg or both just to be in his vicinity. He's got blonde girls, brunette girls, leggy girls, chesty girls, tall girls, short girls drooling after him. Yet, out of all of them, he chose me.
Me. Booky, redheaded, freckly, know-it-all Lily Evans.
Me, the only girl at Hogwarts who hasn't fallen under his charm, but can also insult, hex, slap, kick, and punch him at the same time.
I still hate him.
Wait, let me rephrase that. I don't hate him. I dislike him. Yes, there we go, that's more accurate. That dislike is bordering on the line of hate, but not quite. Because, you see, he's matured. His ego isn't as big as before, and believe it or not, even his head deflated a bit. He's still the haughty, smug James Potter I know and hate—I mean, dislike, but he's…changed. And what about me? When I look at him, do I still see the mischievous prankster that was once the bane of my life, or do I see a man who, as he claimed all those years ago, truly loves me?
I don't know. Only time will tell.
AN: Aha! Lily's starting to fall for James! This is probably the middle or end of sixth year, or early seventh. I'm sorry I made it sort of sappy, but finishing sad books always affect my writing style T_T
~Gella
