Watching
Fifth year
She was beautiful.
James Potter had known that from the very moment he had set eyes on her. At eleven years old, four years ago, searching for a compartment to sit in, he had been struck by those eyes, those bewitching eyes, which had been sparkling with tears. She had been crying about 'Tuney' at the time; he now knew that she had been talking about her sister, Petunia, a Muggle.
They all knew he liked her. Sirius, Peter and Remus, that was. So did the entire school, most probably. He wondered if she knew. But even if she did know, he knew she would not act on it. She despised him. He had made a stupid mistake, bullying Snape. Bullying? He could not bear to think of himself as a bully, but that was what Lily called him, amongst so many other things. Unnecessary… horrible… arrogant… Those were three more. But it was his – he winced – bullying Snape that had made her hate him, really hate him. He wanted to stop, so she would like him. Of Snape, he did not care too much, but Lily made him yearn to be different.
So why was it so hard to stop?
Why was it so hard to bring himself to back down, apologise to Snape and befriend Lily Evans, the girl of his dreams?
True, the befriending he had attempted countless times, but every time she had coldly rejected him. To the other Marauders, she was perfectly civil – less so to Sirius, and more so to Remus, who was, of the four of them, considered the kindest and the most intelligent. Although, he thought, it was definitely his kindness that she valued, more than his intelligence. Remus had always been reluctant towards their treatment of Snape, and Lily must have sensed this in him. If only she could see the kindness in him, in–
"MR. POTTER!"
James sprung to attention, tearing his gaze away from the back of Lily's head. He grinned sheepishly at the woman rapping at his desk.
"So sorry, Professor," he said. "I didn't quite catch that."
"Perhaps listening might help, especially as your O.W.L. examinations are looming ever closer," suggested Professor McGonagall. "Now who would care to answer the question that has failed Mr. Potter here?"
Snape's hand rose slowly into the air.
"Mr. Snape?" said Professor McGonagall.
"The incantation is Fera Verto, Professor," he said.
James had known that. It was the incantation used to turn an animal into a goblet, and he had mastered it two weeks ago.
He turned his attention back to Lily's red locks, not too bothered about Snape's answer and Professor McGonagall's brief frustration with him. He was good at Transfiguration. It was his best subject. He knew, without being arrogant – as Lily liked to call him – that he could pass the exam, if not achieve an Exceeds Expectations or even an Outstanding result.
He sighed, thinking of Lily Evans again.
His want for her to like him was almost verging on desperation. It wasn't only her beauty that had made him – dare he say it? – fall in love with her, but it was all of her. She was kinder than anyone he knew, witty, engaging, with the sweetest dimple in her right cheek when she smiled, which was often. However, these traits he only noticed when watching her, as he did now, when she was talking to others. With him, however, she had an utterly different temperament. She was fiery and quick to speak, inflamed by her hatred of him, and although this should have been a negative, it only drew him closer to her, made him fall deeper in love with her. He wondered why.
He had always watched her out of the corner of his eye. Wherever he was, if she was present, she would draw his every attention and he would be powerless to keep himself from watching her, from yearning for her, and from loving her, Lily Evans, the girl of his dreams, with all his heart.