I wanted a Lily/James story where James was dashingly handsome, Lily was stunningly beautiful and they had a love/hate relationship that didn't take three hundred chapters to resolve. I hope I've succeeded.
Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lily, James, the Marauders, Hogwarts and other various things you may recognize from JK Rowling's Harry Potter series. Please don't think I'm trying to steal her ideas; she's a brilliant woman and I love her writing, I'm just having a little fun.
Lily ignored James the next day. By owl, she sent him a list of suggestions and written note, politely asking him to comment on her ideas – seriously. She made her lettering firm and her words exact and she truly hoped that she would break through his thick skull.
The list came back, with some intelligent answers and a little note:
Lily-Flower,
Thou art my vision of perfection, of absolute beauty. Wilt thou be mine dance for the upcoming ball? I shall not enjoy it if thou doth attend to another gentleman. Thou doest know – thou art required to attend. Fare thee well,
Jamie
Lily crumpled the note up, but it only straightened itself out and the ink only gleamed brighter. Realizing he had placed a spell on it, she stuffed it into her underwear drawer without thinking and went over his list of suggestions.
That evening was rare, for both Heads were in the Gryffindor common room. Lily sat by the fire with a book, beside Hazyl Flaherty, her very best friend. James was on the other side of the room, playing Wizard's Chess with Sirius, while Peter watched eagerly. Remus was making up homework; last night had been the full moon.
"So Dumbledore wants you to work together?" Sirius asked. "Good for you. Maybe you can convince her to go out with you."
"Nah." James sighed. "She's really mad. We're doing this whole ball planning by owl, and she's being really stiff."
"Did you ask her out?" Peter asked.
"Yeah." James grinned. "I worded it funny. Like Shakespeare. But I doubt she'll say yes."
"Second choice?" Sirius asked. "Knight to E-7"
"Probably Clarissa Lobotelle. She'll say yes and she won't get too drunk and she's a pretty good dancer. Who are you guys taking? Oh, yeah. Pawn to D-5."
"I hate you," Sirius said, as the Pawn crossed diagonally to knock out his only remaining Bishop. "Queen to F-6."
"I don't have a date," Peter said miserably, "but Sirius does."
"Yeah." The black-haired boy grinned. "She's a Ravenclaw – Jessica Woolheart. I met her on holiday last summer, in the Caribbean. She's a year younger than us but she's amazingly gorgeous. And easy."
"Nice work!" James said.
Lily liked to study James from afar. Maybe there was something wrong; maybe she wasn't communicating correctly. That seemed highly impossible, but Lily was ready to try anything. The only thing she had come up with, so far, was that James was incredibly good-looking. It was annoying, because if he had been just a little bit nicer, she would've responded to his nice with an emphatic yes and she would've felt really lucky, besides. Except James wasn't nice to her and a date with him would be miserable.
Damn. This was a pretty pickle. Actually, Lily had already received another invite, from Amos Diggory, but he was just a tad conceited and somehow not quite as handsome as James. Did I just think that? No, she told herself resolutely, she would not think about James Potter naked. Oh, god. She was definitely in a place she should not be – even thinking about thinking about the aforementioned Potter naked was absolutely disgusting. How could you hate somebody and daydream about them in their birthday suit? Maybe she was going mad. It happened. Her old Aunt Lulu – perhaps a witch, nobody knew – had gone mad, too, though later in life. She'd hallucinated that some famous movie star asked her to marry him and then she thought she was planning a wedding – the last day of her short life she had been moaning about a wedding and then she actually said I do and fell right over, dead as a doornail.
"Earth to Lily," Hazyl said, tapping her friend lightly on the shoulder. "You're staring at James and I think he's noticed."
He had. He was preening, running his hands through his hair and straitening his robes, all the while staring back at Lily. Quickly, Lily looked away, back toward the fire.
"I wasn't staring," she told her friend.
"Whatever." Hazyl pointed to her magazine. "There's a quiz in Teen Witch this month that you might be interested in."
Lily picked the magazine up. The glossy page was titled, How to Tell if a Wizard Likes You That Way. A short question-and-answer session followed with questions like – "When he sees you, what does he do with his wand?" The answers beneath that were hardly exciting. A) He puts it in the pocket of his robe – smooth move; he doesn't want to risk jinxing you. B) He holds it in his hand, but fiddles with it while you're talking – he's nervous and that means he really likes you. C) He holds it to his side as though he's forgotten about it – the excitement of you is making him forget about it. D) He points it straight at you and yells a curse/jinx – you might want to find a new wizard, sister.
"That's informative," Lily said dryly.
"Well, maybe it could help with James. Let's see…has he ever commented on your robes?"
"No, Hazyl. We wear the same black Hogwarts robes."
"Okay. Um, here's one. Has he done any spells on you?" Hazyl pointed to question eight.
"Sure. He's turned my hair orange, he's killed my cat and he's made several of my potions explode. Oh, yeah – he's jinxed my homework about fifty times."
"Oh." Hazyl's face fell. "That's answer D. 'He only ever curses or jinxes you – obviously, this guy isn't looking for romance. Try again, honey.' Sorry, Lily."
"I don't like him!" Lily shrieked. "Why does everybody think I like him?" She picked up her book, glared at her best friend and walked quickly out of the common room, heading, one might assume, in the direction of her own private Head Girl room.
"Hear that?" Sirius asked. "Good time to make up with her, Prongs."
"Yeah, I'm on it." James pointed to the chessboard. "Sub for me, Wormy."