Chapter 2

Why did I notice James? WHY? I never did before! I mean, of course I knew he was handsome – as is allowed by best friends' code, which is law, as important and sacred as a blood pact – but he'd really gotten ripped. I mean, there was no other word for it.

Maybe dishy?

Ah well, that's to be expected of an avid Quidditch player, I suppose. There's nothing else to say. Speaking of which, where was that bugger? I craned my neck and looked around the room. Ah, speaking to Ben and Luke! Of course.

"Oi! James!"

His eyes immediately searched for me and he smiled as he spotted me. "Milla?"

I waved my hand. "Get over here. I need help with Ancient Runes. Help me, yeah?"

He strode over and plopped down next to me on the plushy couch. I automatically rested my head on his shoulder in our customary position as he explained how to translate a particularly difficult Rune.

"Ohh, so THAT'S how you do it. Wasn't quite sure."

James moved my hair off his face that had hit him as I spun my head.

"Whoops. Sorry."

He grinned, "Nothing unusual."

"True. And you need to do the rest of your Charms essay! Come on, I'll help you."

He squeezed me lightly. "You're the best. You know I'd fail without you."

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that, but well… yeah. You see, I don't hate you so much that I want you to fail."

That earned me a light whack. "Bloody bint."

"Hey, don't insult me or you'll be getting a T on your next essay," I said with a raised eyebrow.

James looked at me disbelievingly. "You wouldn't do that to me."

"Oh, but I would. I don't help people who insult me. That's not usually how one usually curries favor with a person. There's this thing called courtesy."

James lifted an eyebrow. "Which I have none of."

"Precisely."

"It's nice to know you think so highly of me," he said sardonically.

"Yes, I hold you in highest esteem, O Great One," I injected as much sarcasm as I could.

"Shut up."

"Okay, you dolt, time to focus."

As per usual, I just ended up writing his essay myself because we always got sidetracked and it was too bloody frustrating to teach James what to say.

Later that evening at dinner, I was discussing the wedding of Teddy and Victoire, which I had attended with my family and the Potters. We were, of course, in the middle of a long talk on The One, obviously started by Charlotte.

"It's so perfect. Best friends falling in love," Charlotte sighed and clasped her hands, a dreamy expression on her face.

Miranda wrinkled her nose. "That's so bloody cliché."

Char looked affronted. "It is not! It's the perfect love story. I want that. I can't wait until that happens to me. Victoire is so lucky. Her perfect other half was there… all along. Either that or those stories where the people hate each other than fall in love. Both are so romantic."

Miranda snorted. "In books. And okay, Victoire is a rare exception."

Ah, Miranda, ever the cynic.

I piped up, "Like Lily and James, James's grandparents. They fell in love after Lily hated James."

Char looked wistful. "Hmm, maybe I'll marry someone I hate? Well, as long as he plays for Puddlemere. He needs to fit my list!"

Miranda laughed. "Oh, Char, what am I going to do with you? I don't believe in that shit. You find someone you love and that's it. I don't like the other cheesy stuff. It's pure flummery. It's not real."

I was somewhere in between the two of them. I wasn't a hard-eyed cynic who completely disregarded the concept of a soulmate. I believed in them. But I wasn't the dreamy-eyed romantic – Charlotte – who was so idealistic and I didn't have a list. I just kind of bumbled along, walking a middle path.

Char retorted, "Miranda, when you fall in love, you'll know what I'm saying."

Miranda looked skeptical. "Oh, and you're in love, are you?"

Char glared. "Shut up. It WILL happen."

Ah, dear Charlotte. She really was the eternal optimist. Which, in a world of cynicism, was refreshing.

Miranda looked imploringly at me. "Please, say something before she melts into a puddle of romantic drivel."

Char said bitingly, "If you do, I'll tell James to do make you do laps next practice!"

I said, choosing my words carefully, " Well, I think that we all have that special person. You know I don't have a bloody checklist Char – that is really over the top. But Miranda, I think he's out there."

They both looked mollified. Score!

Char clapped her hands, her brown ponytail bouncing. "So tell us! How are Teddy and Victoire getting on?"

I noticed, smugly, even Miranda looked interested.

"They're good. They had a fab honeymoon, apparently."

Char let out a giggle. "I'm sure they had an excellent honeymoon – have you SEEN Teddy? Bloody gorgeous. And Bora Bora is supposed to be lovely this time of year –"

"Who's gorgeous?" cut in Ben smoothly as he plopped down next to Char.

"Oh, Teddy!" Miranda said, in an imitation of Char's elated voice.

"Be nice," I chided mildly.

I felt someone flick me on the shoulder. "James," I said happily. "Good, I need to talk to you."

He looked concerned. "About what?"

"Well, first, pass me the Pumpkin juice, please."

He handed it over, looking expectantly at me.

"Oh, well just to tell you Luke said he couldn't make the match with Ravenclaw in two weeks. He has a detention."

James had a hard look on his face. "WHAT?" he exploded.

I put my hand on his shoulder reassuringly. "It will be fine. The reserve is a good player –"

"He's not Luke!"

"Ellis, the reserve, is perfectly fine!"

"BUT-"

"There's nothing to be done!" I shouted, over him.

He shut his mouth. "Yes, but still. Why! Where is he? We need to speak."

I pursed my lips. "You can later. You clearly are worked up. You and I need to go have a chat. Come on."

"But it's dinner –"

But I firmly grasped his forearm and dragged him from the Great Hall. "It can wait."

I linked my arm through his said the password to the Fat Lady. She let us in and I pulled him by the hand, firmly holding his in mine so he couldn't escape, up to the his dormitory.

I pushed him down onto his bed and sat down next to him. He threw his head onto his pillow in exasperation. I fitted myself snugly in the crook of his arm, lying my head on his chest, my blonde hair splaying out around my face. James fingered it absently, lost in thought.

"James," I said.

He looked at me, his brown eyes worried. "Yeah?"

"You'll be fine. I promise."

He looked skeptical. "I will?"

"I'm your best friend, yes?"

He said slowly, "Yes, of course you are."

"And you trust me?"

"Yes. Obviously."

"Have I ever led you astray?"

"No."

"So listen to me. Ellis can sub in for Luke and everything will be brilliant." I rubbed his arm soothingly.

He looked like he was about to argue, but he stopped. He just looked at me and said finally, "Okay. I suppose."

"I know you're freaking out about the match, but you're a brilliant captain. Everything will work out. You've been working us so hard we know the plays in our sleep."

He smiled weakly. "I know. I'm sorry to have been brutal, but I want everyone ready."

"See? You're good. And Luke is sorry," I added.

He smiled ruefully. "I know. He's my mate. He's such a bloody prankster though."

"That's Luke for you."

He twirled a bit of my hair around his finger. "I know. The bloke is nuts."

"I know."

And we sat in comfortable silence, lost in our thoughts.

Two days later in History of Magic I was sitting in complete and utter boredom when Miranda tapped me on the shoulder.

I eyed Binns (how in the bloody hell was he still teaching here? He was like 4,000 years old) warily and said in a low voice, "What's up?"

"Hayden Stiles is trying to give you a note."

I perked up slightly. "Huh?"

Miranda rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Look over your shoulder!"

I turned surreptitiously and saw Hayden smiling at me. He sent a note flying my way. I caught it by leaning left, almost falling out of my chair. Bloody fuck. I'm such a klutz.

Hobbes,

Can I borrow some parchment?

Hayden

P.S. You look nice today.

I automatically smiled. Well, this was something. Gotta love attention from blokes, right?

Miranda looked over my shoulder and read it, smirking. She would. Bitch.

She whispered in my ear, "That's bullshit."

"Shut up. I don't see you with a note."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly. I quickly pulled out a slip of parchment and another sheet for him (was he just talking me up to get paper? I hoped not. That would be bloody embarrassing.) I penned a response:

Stiles,

Here's your parchment. Bring your own next time! Tsk.

Milla

P.S. Thanks.

Well, that was sufficiently awkward. I turned back and tossed it to Hayden with a little grin. I even flipped my hair a little. Well, this was fun. I could flirt. I could date (FINALLY! James never let me. Stupid overprotective brother-like figure.) I would be sought after by everyone. I would be the talk of –

"MISS HOBBES! Pay attention! This is immensely important! It's the Goblin Wars of 1667!" cried Binns.

My eyes snapped back to look at Binns and I felt guilty. I felt bad. No one paid attention to his boring lectures. I sat quietly as I could, and only dozed off once.

In the last five minutes, Miranda shoved a note in front of me. From Stiles, again.

Thanks.

I owe you one. Maybe I'll let you win the next Quidditch match?

I smiled despite myself. He was so bloody clichéd. I mean, come on, I knew he was one of the most fanatical Quidditch players (he was on the Ravenclaw team – Beater), well, at least besides James. James was as bad as they got. Like Charlotte. Psh.

Suddenly Binns said loudly, ending his seemingly ceaseless monologue, "Class dismissed. See you all Thursday."

I stood up, gathering my books, while discussing the implications of the note-passing with Miranda.

Her sagacious comment: "He fancies you."

Well, no shit, Sherlock.

I really needed to discuss this with Char. She would know the meanings of every little word, every gesture. She was like the fucking genius on these important topics.

I laughed and said, "Thanks. You're brilliant."

She smiled and I turned to James.

He was looking at me, a frown on his face. Bloody overprotective prat of a best friend.