Prompt: Nervously planning a first date

James Potter did not believe in fate.
Fate is for suckers.

Because fate really did not want him to end up with Lily Evans.

James glanced down at the shivering girl clutched in his arms and internally cursed every deity he could think of. How had it all gone so wrong?

It all started when she asked him about his weekend plans for the third time that day, while patrolling. "I don't have any Hogsmeade plans, Evans. Like I told you earlier, I'll probably just hang out with the boys. Maybe pop into Zonko's…"

Evans cut him off with an exasperated sigh, and a light smack on the shoulder. "I'm trying to get you to ask me out, you idiot! How much more obvious does a girl have to be?"

"You– You want me to ask you out?" he responded, incredulous.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, then, "That is, if you're still interested… I'm not forcing you to or anything, and I totally understand if you'd rather not…" she trailed off, sounding unsure and suddenly very interested in the stone flooring of the castle.

"Of course I'm still interested!" How could she think he wouldn't be? "Evans, will you go out with me this weekend?"

A delighted flush colored her cheeks in a sweetly endearing manner. "Yes, Potter. I would very much like to go out with you this weekend. I'll meet you in the entry hall at eleven." With a pleased smile, she turned and headed back to Gryffindor Tower– abandoning rounds entirely.

24 hours before the date

"Thank you," James thanked Boppy as she scuttled off with the list of foods he'd asked for. With a spring in his step, he made his way down to the great hall for a spot of breakfast before classes.

For once, he eagerly anticipated going to class. Not because he was excited about the class itself, per say, but because the sooner classes were over, the sooner the day was over, and the sooner the day was over, the sooner tomorrow came.

And tomorrow he had a date. A date with Lily Evans.

After years and years of chasing her, he'd finally landed a date with Evans– one he almost hadn't even asked her on.

James had just helped himself to a heaping scoop of eggs, when his family's owl dropped a letter down on his plate.

Jamie,

Sirius has informed me you have a date today, darling! I hope you have adequately wooed this witch of yours– since from the tone of Sirius' note, it seems you have been trying to secure a date with her for quite some time. Do be on your best behavior, my dear. I do want to have grandchildren someday. (Don't screw this up for yourself!)

Write me, and tell me how it goes. I cannot wait to meet her soon.

Lots of love,

Mum

P.S. your father would like to remind you not to let Sirius come on a date with you again– since the amount of complaining you did the last time he did drove your father mental.

Oh– and he sends his love.

James finished reading and put down the letter to glare at his friend. "You wrote my parents?"

"This is big news for you, Jamie dear," Sirius intoned in an impression of his mother, mouth still full. "You've been trying to get Evans to go out with you for ages– which means we have had to hear about it for ages. So yes. I wrote your parents to let them know the good news– and so they know why I moved, when this inevitably goes awry."

"What makes you think the date will go badly?" James asked.

"Your track record."

"Harsh!"

"Prongs, be serious," Sirius didn't even pause for the requisite joke about his name, "how many girls have you successfully dated?"

"I–"

"None. That's how many," Sirius cut in before he could utter a response.

"I've had girlfriends!"

"Yeah, and now you have ex-girlfriends. And Evans is THE girl, mate. You really think you'll manage to keep your head with that kind of pressure?"

James hadn't felt pressured about the date before– he'd been practically floating since Evans had said yes. Sirius' question brought him crashing back down. He was right. James didn't have the best dating history. Even his own mum had cautioned him about it! What if he messed it all up? Could they stay friends? Would he ever get over her?

Suddenly the hilltop picnic he'd planned seemed insufficient to 'woo' the girl of his dreams– the girl he'd been pining for for the majority of his time at Hogwarts.

"I gotta go," he mumbled under his breath, grabbing his bag and rushing for the doors to the library.

12 hours before the date

The sun had set long ago, the library closed, but James had donned the cloak to sneak back. His hand cramped from writing, and his eyes felt strained from the hours of focusing on the text. That was how Sirius and Remus found him: hunched over a library table, pouring over every book of courting customs and etiquette the school had to offer.

"See?" he heard Sirius say, "I told you! He's been here practically every free moment since breakfast." The two came around the corner, map out, wearing matching expressions of disbelief and worry– Sirius' tinged with annoyance.

"What are you still doing here?" Remus asked, glancing over the books strewn across the table.

"Just some last minute research."

"Research? For your date?" Remus' brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yeah. I just don't want to mess up anything with Evans. I can't," he stressed.

Remus and Sirius exchanged looks. "And you think you'll find the answers in," Remus paused to check the cover of the book James was currently immersed in, "Courting, Betrothals, Contracts: Pureblood Courting Rituals of the 1870's?"

James gave a half-hearted shrug.

"James, you just have to be yourself. From what you told me, Lily practically asked you out herself! She fancies you, mate– it's what I've been telling you all term."

"Yeah," Sirius chimed in, "I was just taking the mick this morning. Even I can tell Evans has it bad for you. I didn't think a bit of ribbing would end in you immersing yourself in pureblood courting rituals and etiquette," he said, nose wrinkling in disgust at the nature of his study materials. "Evans fancies you, for some reason. If you pull some outdated courting ritual shit, you'll scare her right off."

"I guess," James acquiesced, though still firmly believing that centuries of successful courting rituals might have more sway than his friends' advice.

"Okay," Remus said gently, "then come on. It's nearly midnight. You have to get some sleep or you'll be absolutely knackered for your big date tomorrow." James smiled, and packed his bags– shoving his notes about courting etiquette in the bottom before either of his friends noticed. He shouldered his bag, and together the three made their return to Gryffindor Tower.

Morning of the Date.

It was barely seven in the morning, but James couldn't contain his nervous energy a second longer. He'd already showered and dressed– before changing his mind six times on what top he should wear. He shrugged off the latest option: a purple jumper his mother had gotten him for Christmas a few years ago. Nope. Not unless he wanted to look like someone whose mother picked out their clothing for a Date– the Date (capital 'D').

"That's your seventh outfit change," Peter remarked.

"Can you blame me, Wormy? What do I wear? I've been waiting for this day since we were old enough to even go to Hogsmeade! What do I wear for the Date?"

"What am I? Your fashion consultant?" Peter quipped.

James rolled his eyes, and changed once more– before finally settling. On the first thing he'd chosen: a simple button-up, with a navy jumper and a black coat. He tried to smooth down his hair (an effort made in vain), checked his watch and headed down the stairs. He was meant to meet Evans at Madam Puddifoot's, and he didn't want to be late. And truly, an hour early wasn't too early, was it?