D: I
do not own HP
Jamesness
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a hot-headed Gryffindor under the influence of the stupor-inducing effects of Butterbeer is wont to do incredibly stupid things. And if it so happens that the object of his affections is nearby, it is almost inevitable that the aforementioned Gryffindor will make a fool out of himself.
"Ello Lily…" James slurred as he stumbled into the Heads' common room collapsing onto the sofa. Lily delicately removed his hand from where it had fallen onto her lap and stood up.
"What on earth did you do, Potter?" She exclaimed, almost too concerned to make a sarcastic remark. "Did you get dumped by that girl you were going out with … I always thought she was too smart for you." The keyword was almost.
"I … dumped … her." James giggled. Lily raised a hand to her mouth to suppress a laugh.
"And you decided to get drunk, because…?" She asked in an effort to fill the silence.
"I'm not drunk!" replied James, the ideal picture of indignation. Or, at least, he would be if he weren't slumped over the sofa like a … drunk.
Lily rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to bang her head against the wall. No, instead she compromised by hitting herself in the face with her Potions textbook.
It hurt.
She winced and put the book down. James eyed it with interest.
"Is that a new game?" He asked, picking the textbook up with interest. "I want to play too!" He then proceeded to solemnly hit himself several times in the head. Lily chortled. What? After all, it wasn't as though Potter would remember it the next morning.
"Enjoying yourself, James?" She asked, forgetting to refer to him by his last name.
"I don't think I like this game very much." James replied, still hitting himself in the head. Lily grasped his wrist. Better not let him lose too many brain cells. He had few enough of those left anyway.
James looked at her with bright eyes. Like a squirrel's.
"Do you have another game we can play?" He asked happily. Lily fought the urge to grin maniacally.
"How about you go to sleeeeeep?" She suggested, drawing out the last word.
"No!" James protested, banging his fist on the sofa, despite Lily's firm grip on it. He was far stronger than she was anyway. "I – don't – like – bedtime!" He squealed, drawing out each word. Lily released his wrist, exasperated.
"Well what do you like then!" Lily snapped. James considered thoughtfully.
"I like … Snidges!"
"Snidges?"
"Snidges!"
"Snidges?"
"Snidges!"
"Sni –" On second thoughts it might be better to stop there. That 'game' could go on for quite a while… Lily looked at James and sat down next to him.
"What else do you like?" She asked patiently, with the air of a martyr. Or just the air of a girl humouring a young child. And when I say 'young child' I mean drunk, seventh year git. Also known as James Potter.
James looked confused.
"You mean I can like more than one thing?" He asked, wide-eyed. Lily nodded.
"Yes, James. You can like more than one thing." She assured him.
James grinned.
"I like Q'dditch." He nodded wisely, the effect ruined a tad by his running on the words together. "Do you like Q'dditch?"
Lily paused, thinking. She had always professed to hate Quidditch, mostly because James Potter was the Gryffindor Quidditch hero. But … after a while … she guessed it did grow on you.
"I like Quidditch." She reluctantly agreed, avoiding James' gaze. He sighed happily, and laid his head in her lap.
"I like you too." He smiled up at her.
"We've established this." Lily replied dryly. "Many times in fact. Unfortunately we've also established that I don't reciprocate."
"What does that mean?"
Lily was ready to hit herself in the head. Drunk James wouldn't understand what Sober James would reply only too suggestively to. She decided she liked Drunk James a lot more than Sober James.
"It means that we have an agreement. You like me. I don't like you." She explained quickly. James' face was a picture of hurt and indignation.
"You don't like me?" He whined, sitting up. "Why don't you like me?"
Lily considered explaining for a split second about the times he had humiliated her in the corridor, chased and blackmail her, then –
"It's okay, I like you."
James settled back down again.
"Good." He said, satisfied.
Then, as quickly as he had lain down, he sprung up.
"Dance with me!" He squealed. Lily glanced at her Potions textbook as James put on the radio, abandoning any hopes of studying that night.
James held out his arms to her. Lily stared at him.
One dance wouldn't hurt, would it? And he'd be too hung over the next morning to remember it anyway. But this was James Potter her nemesis she was talking about. Did she really want to degrade herself like this?
Yes, she was stunned to realise, yes she did.
She took James' arms and slowly they danced, a pattern that felt like it had been practiced countless times over. As they danced, Lily decided that she definitely liked Drunk James better than Sober James.
Lily looked up at James and realised how close he was to her. He was getting nearer – was he trying to kiss her? A small part of her wanted to let him, and the other part of her wanted to pull away.
He kissed her.
And as he pulled away she saw his eyes glinting with a faint, triumphant light…
Which led her to believe he hadn't been drunk in the first place.
And James, being James, just had to prove her right by springing away.
"I kissed Lily Evans!" He screamed triumphantly, running towards the door. Lily, face flaming, did what she did best and pulled out her wand…
Memory Charms were by far the best invention ever.
A/N: Thank you for reading my one-shot. Please review and tell me what you think of it and I'll send you virtual cookies. :D
s.a.r.d
