A/N: I'm in a kind of fluffy mood tonight on account of my music, so please bear with me- and as always, read & review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything below. It I did, James wouldn't be so cute .

Sparks

I looked out the window showered in fresh condensation from the swirling air outside, small crystalline drops snaking downwards. Today hasn't been a good week, and I can't imagine it getting any better.

The triumphant cheers of my fellow Gryffindors in our common room surround me; we've just won the Quidditch Cup this year. As I turn my gaze to the crowd, I find it hard not to spot James. There he is, hoisted up on the shoulders of his teammates. The giant silver cup is in his hands, held like the most precious thing in his waking life.

My thoughts flick back to a summer day last year. I stood alone by the black lake, watching the sun throw its beams of fire into the surroundings. It looked like a painting, every color fitting with its neighbor so perfectly. The reflection on the water was especially stunning.

And then his arms had wrapped around me. We weren't going out- and we still aren't. But still, I let him, pretending he was someone else. Someone unlike the messy-haired boy who asked me out twice a day, someone unlike the troublemaker who showed off for all the girls. No, this James Potter was kind and caring, shy and loyal. Sort of like me, you could say.

For what seemed like ages we stood admiring the scene, me and my improved Potter. He didn't make a sound or rude gesture at all. Fitting, I thought. He was living up to the new model.

But at long last, the sun passed away, and the moon never came out. It was over, and nothing was left to enjoy. So I silently slipped out from under his arms and trotted back to the castle.

I felt his eyes and his heart watching me from the distance until my eyes closed in my dormitory.

I smile faintly as he spots me from atop his friends, brushing a strand of fiery red hair from my face. Some say the color of my hair represents my feisty nature or my temperamental attitude when James draws near.

But he once said, 'It represents nothing, but only adds more beauty to the wonder that is you." I felt my temper rise and my heart stop.

He begins to walk towards me, holding the cup in one hand… almost as though the greatest treasure of his life has been replaced by something else.

James stops a foot away, returning my small smile. For a minute, we simply stand, his soulful brown eyes catching my own.

"Congratulations," I say in a voice barely more than a whisper. Either way, he knew I would say it.

"Thank you," he replies in the same volume, as though the terrible noise around us might shatter the windows should it grow any louder. But by now, the cheering has faded to a dull roar, nothing compared to the loud beating of out hearts.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

To me, it's not; what would happen if we kiss? Would I spend more time with James than my friends? Would my grades fall, my concentrations slip just the way I did from under his arms so long ago?

That's just me, isn't it? Basing my life on what I need, rather than what I want. Preparing for a future that one day may never exist. Wasting a young life for a steady old one.

So, letting my body relax and my shoulders droop, I nod to him. It truly is the simplest thing. I want to kiss him. It won't change anything; and even if it does, I'm prepared for it. James would be by me.

He rushes forwards smoothly, cupping his hands around my neck and pressing his lips deep onto mine. Suddenly, it all fits, like peanut butter and jelly, like sky and clouds. I love him; I really do. I probably always did. Maybe I was just too busy to realize it.

Maybe I will give him a chance, I tell myself later from between his arms in the now empty Gryffindor common room. As I watch his chest rise and fall, resting peacefully on the couch, I gaze out the window. The clouds have broken, emitting rays of strong golden sunlight.

Maybe I really love him. I pause.

I really love him.