Chapter 3: A Promise
James wasn't going to take this lying down. He had brought some of Zonko's tricks and was about to use them on Lily. They didn't talk much the day of the little moat prank. Now, it was nighttime again. It was James' turn.
James snuck into her room. He began to lie out his little scheme. He began by going over to her wardrobe. Soon all of the clothes in it flashed an orange phrase: "James Potter is my Sexy Boy!" Then, he made his way to her bureau and opened the drawer. Soon, her undergarments, too, bore the same phrase as the rest of her clothes. Then, he went over and bent down low, just hovering over her body. God, she's gorgeous. So angelic looking when she sleeps. You wouldn't expect her to pull that prank she arranged for me during the night.
His final touch was bewitching a wizard picture of himself to wave on her tank top and shorts pajamas.
"Potter, get in here and fix my cloths. This is the stupidest thing you've ever done!" She did have to admit; the picture of him on her top had an absolutely gorgeous smile. WAIT! Don't think such things! She snapped out of it as James entered.
"Sorry, Evans, 24 hour spell. I wanted everyone to know what you thought of me!"
"Well, then it should state: "James Potter is a prick!" 'Cause that's what I think."
She ran downstairs. She hit the living room. She went through another door. Now, she was in the basement. She turned on the switch, which lit up the dark, dank room. She made her way to the corner at her right. There sat the washer and dryer. The washer was empty, but the dryer was full. She pulled out her underclothes, jeans and a sleeveless mock neck top. Then, back upstairs, James face fell when he saw her.
"Darn, forgot your other clothes. Man, that sucks!"
" The spell better wear off. If my cloths stay like this, I promise you!" She shook her finger wildly in front of his bewildered face. "I promise that I will blast your Quidditch playing ass into oblivion," and with that, she turned and left, James mouth hanging open form the shock of being threatened by a girl, and worst, being scared of it
James wasn't going to take this lying down. He had brought some of Zonko's tricks and was about to use them on Lily. They didn't talk much the day of the little moat prank. Now, it was nighttime again. It was James' turn.
James snuck into her room. He began to lie out his little scheme. He began by going over to her wardrobe. Soon all of the clothes in it flashed an orange phrase: "James Potter is my Sexy Boy!" Then, he made his way to her bureau and opened the drawer. Soon, her undergarments, too, bore the same phrase as the rest of her clothes. Then, he went over and bent down low, just hovering over her body. God, she's gorgeous. So angelic looking when she sleeps. You wouldn't expect her to pull that prank she arranged for me during the night.
His final touch was bewitching a wizard picture of himself to wave on her tank top and shorts pajamas.
"Potter, get in here and fix my cloths. This is the stupidest thing you've ever done!" She did have to admit; the picture of him on her top had an absolutely gorgeous smile. WAIT! Don't think such things! She snapped out of it as James entered.
"Sorry, Evans, 24 hour spell. I wanted everyone to know what you thought of me!"
"Well, then it should state: "James Potter is a prick!" 'Cause that's what I think."
She ran downstairs. She hit the living room. She went through another door. Now, she was in the basement. She turned on the switch, which lit up the dark, dank room. She made her way to the corner at her right. There sat the washer and dryer. The washer was empty, but the dryer was full. She pulled out her underclothes, jeans and a sleeveless mock neck top. Then, back upstairs, James face fell when he saw her.
"Darn, forgot your other clothes. Man, that sucks!"
" The spell better wear off. If my cloths stay like this, I promise you!" She shook her finger wildly in front of his bewildered face. "I promise that I will blast your Quidditch playing ass into oblivion," and with that, she turned and left, James mouth hanging open form the shock of being threatened by a girl, and worst, being scared of it