Socks

Oneshot #14

By: Sunlit Days

James Potter is wearing the strangest pair of socks I have ever seen. They're long and grey, with a thin stripe of green near the top, and dancing diamonds of darker grey arranged in a preppy pattern below the stripe. He's wearing them with green shorts and a black shirt—in my opinion, his two best colors because they emphasize the emerald and jade flecks in his hazel eyes, making them look deeper and even more striking.

"That is a complete fashion disaster," my friend Alice declares. "They look like something Remus would wear."

"They're kind of cute, though," I reply from where I'm stretched out on the soft green grass, tanning—no, burning—in the golden afternoon sunlight. "You know, just because he's wearing them."

Alice stops laughing for a moment to give me the Lily-Evans-you-are-completely-hopeless look that she's perfected over the past few months. "Well, why don't you try taking initiative and telling him that?" she suggests.

"Because then it sounds like I'm looking at his socks—"

"You are," Alice points out. "Just go up to him and tell him that you like his socks. Sarcastically. Or ask him if he stole them from Remus."

I laugh at her, and turn my gaze back to James, who's playing with a Snitch nearby. I can't help laughing every time I see those socks. Alice is right—they really are a fashion disaster, and I don't know what's possessed him to wear them, especially with shorts, not that James really cares about how that looks, anyway.

"No, I've got it," Alice continues. "I'd like to take off your socks."

This only makes me laugh harder as I continue to watch James. Alice constantly makes fun of how slowly he walks, but he has amazing reflexes, and he catches the Snitch with fluid, graceful movements, making it look like an art. His skin is already slightly bronzed from all the time he's been spending outside in the recent stretch of sunshine and warm weather.

"I'd like to take off your socks," I repeat, laughing. "Yeah, that'll work. He'll probably think I'm crazy, or it'll come out wrong, like, 'I like what's under your socks' or something like that."

"Then he'll think you have a feet fetish," Alice laughs.

"Yeah, that's just what I need," I retort.

"Actually, I think it's more of a socks fetish. Or maybe a James Potter fetish." Alice grins, still laughing at me. She has a habit of doing that, or telling me to take initiative every time we talk about James.

"I can't help it," I defend myself as I stand up, red hair swirling around my shoulders in the slight breeze. I squint in James's direction, watching him pocket the Snitch and set across the sprawling green grounds in the direction of the castle.

"You always end up following him," observes Alice. She picks up the book she's finished reading and stands up, walking towards the open doors of the castle with me.

"I don't do it on purpose."

"But your eyes are always following him."

I don't know what to say to this. He's like a magnet that my eyes are instantly attracted to by magnetic force. It's like one of those sappy Muggle romance films—I almost expect romantic music to start playing and for everything to start moving in slow motion as James turns and his eyes catch mine for a moment. But of course he's not looking for me—my luck doesn't work that way.

Alice starts laughing again when we're behind him, looking at his socks. Of course, this catches his attention.

"What's so funny?" he inquires.

"Nice socks," I answer. Alice looks like she's about to go into shock over my actually 'taking initiative'.

James grins. "Thanks. I had to borrow them from Remus—none of mine were clean."

Alice still looks too shocked to laugh, and I have to bite my lip hard enough to draw blood to prevent myself from laughing. At least I know he washes his socks and doesn't dig out the first dirty pair he can find on the floor, unlike people like Sirius Black, who could do with borrowing Remus's socks—it's not as if he doesn't steal Remus's clothes, anyway. And he could get away with telling Remus that he'd like to take off his socks—he probably takes off a lot more than just Remus's socks on a regular basis.

"They, um…suit you very well," I say quickly.

James looks pleased, like he actually thinks I'm serious. "Thanks." His eyes light up; it's obvious he has an idea. I can only hope it's not an idea for a prank on the Slytherins, although he has backed down ever since he became Head Boy this year. He's also managed to become much more tolerable and somewhat more mature lately, which is probably the reason I've cracked after six years of resisting his so-called charms. And it doesn't hurt that he's kind of cute in his own way, if like me, you're the crazy type of person who falls for a guy with messy black hair that he's constantly raking his hand through, hazel eyes with flecks of green and amber, and glasses.

"Your socks are boring, Lily," James is saying, looking at my short, plain white socks. "You need interesting socks."

"I'll ask Remus where he gets his," I quip, making both James and Alice laugh.

"He's got a whole drawer-full upstairs," James offers. "You know, if you ever want to borrow any..."

"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." I smile at him, and my heart starts pounding as he smiles back. I'm suddenly aware of how close we are, how good he smells, how he seems to radiate warmth…

Alice kicks me and I snap out of James-land.

"No problem," James is saying. He smiles again, then begins to walk away, causing my eyes to do that weird following him thing again. "See you later."

--

I wake up the next morning to the sound of Alice's laughter. Rolling out of bed, I rub my eyes and blink several times to make sure I'm not hallucinating.

Dark socks with thin, green outlines of diamonds, socks with green and black stripes, green and black checkered socks, white socks that are for some reason decorated with four-leaf clovers, strangely feminine black socks with green polka dots…every possible combination of green and black socks decorated with various patterns and shapes cover almost every available surface in the room. There's no doubt in my mind as to who put them here. The only question is how he managed to sneak into our dormitory, but he's a Marauder, which, sadly, is enough explanation for everything James and his friends get away with. I'm torn between laughter at how it's almost cute of James to do this, after our conversation yesterday, and annoyance over how he somehow snuck into our dormitory and made such a mess.

"Oh, come on, Lily," Alice says, throwing a pair of socks at me. "You have to admit it's funny."

I catch the socks and put them on absentmindedly, then stand up to wade through the sea of socks carpeting the floor so I can get to the closet. I dress quickly, then go down to the common room with Alice, without bothering to do anything about the socks littering the floor of the dormitory.

James is the first person I see as I descend the stairs—I'm confident now that my eyes are attached to him by magnetic force—and as soon as he sees me, he starts laughing. I hate how adorable he is when he's rolling around laughing, especially when it's at my expense. I kick myself mentally for thinking that, and I think Alice can read my mind, because she takes care of the task of physically kicking me.

"Nice socks, Lily," James laughs.

I glance down and realize that I'm wearing the same pair of socks that Alice and I were laughing over yesterday. The situation is so stupid and ridiculous that I can't help laughing. I look down at James's socks. They're plain and white, like the pair I was wearing yesterday.

"Your socks are boring, James," I say blithely, smiling slightly. "You need interesting socks. I've got plenty upstairs if you want to borrow any."

"I'm getting an odd sense of déjà-vu," James tells me. "Except it's kind of the other way around."

I laugh nervously, and suddenly his lips are on mine, in front of everyone. His lips are soft, and the kiss is sweet and innocent, and the only coherent thought running through my brain is I like what's under your socks, which makes absolutely no sense, and I blame Alice…

"I don't remember that happening yesterday," I blurt out stupidly when we break apart.

James laughs. "Then I'll just have to do it again to make up for it, won't I?"

And he kisses me again, and I conclude that it's our lips that should be magnetized together, not just our eyes, and maybe in the future, that won't be so hard. And unlike yesterday, he doesn't walk away alone; instead, we walk down to breakfast together, fingers entwined.

And eventually, I do get to take off his socks.