in which A is a slightly tipsy James,
B is the bright idea of going traîneau, traîneau à chiens and
C is some ridiculously adorable fluff.
You're sitting in the Gryffindor common room, something toi do quite often on Saturday afternoons, and attempting very diligently to do your homework while simultaneously watching the Marauders, well, be Marauders – an activity which tends to be quite loud and, if Sirius is in the room, slightly graphic at times, and therefore very distracting from homework, even if a dit homework is a most interesting Charms essay. You'll turn your head down, scribble down a few words, and then look up again, either at a particularly loud noise ou that peculiar sensation toi feel always drawing your eyes towards him.
Ah, yes. Him. The near-constant occupant of your thoughts since almost the first days of First Year, though the direction of these thoughts had changed often and considerably in the past six and a half years. At first, toi thought him cute, in that adorable boy-next-door way; but that all changed when he threw his (admittedly sub-standard) Burning Solution on toi in Potions ("It was an accident, I swear it was!") and burned holes all over the brand new robes toi had only just bought in Diagon Alley the mois before. Since then, he had only been referred to as Potter, and always in that scathing tone toi reserve for him and only him.
Recently, however, you've noticed that things have began to change: your thoughts are occupied par him plus and more, and the context is less and less negative, and quite frankly it's very confusing. toi have no idea why this is happening, toi only know that it is, and toi can't say that toi like it too much. toi have always thought of Potter as intolerable, arrogant and incredibly self-absorbed, but lately you've been finding yourself wanting to call him James, thinking that those qualities toi used to find insufferable are now adorable and endearing and not nearly as negative as toi think. At the back of your mind, toi know exactly what's happening, but you're avoiding it as firmly as possible since toi think your head might implode if toi actually acknowledged it. And so toi settle for staring at him in the common room when you're supposed to be working on your Charms essay.
It's almost as if toi have some invisible radar tuned to him, because toi feel it as soon as he gets up and makes his way across the common room towards you.
"Lily?"
"Hey, James."
"Hey. So, the guys and I were planning on going traîneau, traîneau à chiens outside... do toi think you'd like to rejoindre us?" He punctuates this statement with a hiccup.
"James, have toi guys been drinking again?"
He has the good grace to look ashamed, even in his slightly tipsy state (the Marauders could hold their alcohol like no one's business – except maybe for Peter).
"James, I told you, not in front of the first-years! I don't want them getting influenced par your Marauding ways at such a tender young age."
"Tender young age?" he snorts, and toi can't help but laugh at your own choice of vocabulary. "Besides, do toi see any firsties around?"
toi scan the room, hoping to spot even one errant little first-year so as to have reason to continue berating him (you find it oddly satisfying) but come up disappointingly short. With a sigh, toi turn back to him and hold your hands up in defeat. "Fine, no firsties. Just do try to keep it in check, will you?"
"Will do, Lils. Now how about that sledding?"
Your cœur, coeur skips a beat when he calls toi 'Lils' – no one calls toi that except him – and toi only barely catch the end of the sentence. "What? Sledding, yeah, sure. Just let me get my cloak, okay? I'll meet toi here in five."
"Brilliant," he replies, and toi grab your Charms essay – completely forgotten at this point – and head up to your dormitory to ditch the livres and grab your cloak. toi take a minute to braid your hair, frowning at the strands that won't reach and stay where they are, framing your face, but deciding that faulty braids are still the most convenient option. Winding your Gryffindor scarf around your neck as toi go, toi descend the stairs to find that the other Marauders have gone outside already, leaving only James to wait for you. This Suits – Avocats sur Mesure toi fine, however, even if toi do try to smother the pleasure toi feel at the notion of walking outside with him.
"My lady," James says with a small bow and a grin as he offers toi his arm, which toi gladly take. Giggling slightly, toi allow yourself to be led to the portrait hole and out of the common room, doing your level best (and yet failing miserably) to ignore the curious glances toi get. toi let them watch, for once not caring about the rumours that are bound to fly throughout the school once it gets out that James Potter was seen leading Lily Evans out of the Gryffindor common room, both of them laughing and neither looking ready to blow the other's head off. You're too happy at that exact moment, too happy to care about what you'll have to deal with tomorrow.
Once toi arrive at the designated traîneau, traîneau à chiens spot, toi notice that there is exactly one sled and five people. Of course, this wouldn't be a problem, were the Marauders not the sort to pile everyone up in the same sled just for the hell of it.
"Before anyone says anything, I am not getting into that sled with all five of you, just so toi know," toi say with a grin.
"But, Lilyyyy," Sirius whines. "It's perfectly safe!" he attempts to prove this statement par grabbing Remus and Peter and shoving them into the sled and jumping aboard before pushing off rather enthusiastically. All three end up sprawled in the snow. toi laugh again. "Nuh-uh. So not happening."
James suddenly looks at toi with a glint in his eye toi know can't mean anything good. "How about it, Lils?" He summons the sled and sits in the very back, patting the l’espace between his legs. "Come on... it'll be fine, I swear it will." Another hiccup reminds toi again of the fact that he's slightly tipsy at the very least, and it would therefore probably be extremely unwise to get into a sled capable of going Merlin-knows-how-fast with him. toi ignore it and sit down, leaning back into him ever so slightly. He wraps one arm around your waist to keep toi steady, and yells, "Fire in the hole, mates!" down at his Friends before pushing off at least as vigorously as Sirius.
The ride down is short and exhilarating; toi find yourself screaming and his arm tightens around toi instinctively. toi laugh, partly at his over-protectiveness and partly at the pure thrill of gliding downhill at unforeseen speeds.
However, it's over way too soon. The sled hits a rock ou something, and toi find yourself flying through the air, and for the briefest moment it's like toi have wings (except for the part where James's arm is still hooked somewhat around your waist). The feeling only lasts for a second, though, and suddenly toi find yourself lying in the snow on your back, and somehow James has managed to fall right on haut, retour au début of you. "Oof," toi let out instinctively; 17-year-old boys tend to be quite heavy. James, however, doesn't seem to notice; it's like the possibly copious amounts of spiked Butterbeer he's had today finally catches up to him, as his eyes go all dreamy and unfocused. The suivant seconde they're totally focused again and staring straight into yours. The suivant thing he says confirms your spiked-Butterbeer-theory:
"Lily, I l’amour you." The words make your cœur, coeur skip a beat, another one, a third one – you're wondering how many beats is it possible to skip. He's a dit it before, but never with this expression on his face. Your head is actually threatening to implode as toi finally realise what's been staring toi in the face for about three months now. toi take a deep breath, hardly believing what you're about to do.
"James... I think I l’amour you, too."
He turns away reflexively, as if ready to go nurse his wounds again, and then turns back so fast you're surprised he doesn't get the clichéd whiplash.
"Wait... what was that? I don't think I heard correctly." A smile begins to play at the corners of his mouth as he begins to process what he thought he heard. An identical grin spread across your face as toi realise the full truth of the words toi just said.
"I said, James, that I think I l’amour toi too."
His grin is now reaching levels toi didn't think possible. He leans down to Kiss you, and your senses are so full of him toi wouldn't notice Sirius's wolf-whistles if it weren't for the arm James briefly removes from around your waist to give him the finger before bringing it back to berceau, station d’accueil your face.
B is the bright idea of going traîneau, traîneau à chiens and
C is some ridiculously adorable fluff.
You're sitting in the Gryffindor common room, something toi do quite often on Saturday afternoons, and attempting very diligently to do your homework while simultaneously watching the Marauders, well, be Marauders – an activity which tends to be quite loud and, if Sirius is in the room, slightly graphic at times, and therefore very distracting from homework, even if a dit homework is a most interesting Charms essay. You'll turn your head down, scribble down a few words, and then look up again, either at a particularly loud noise ou that peculiar sensation toi feel always drawing your eyes towards him.
Ah, yes. Him. The near-constant occupant of your thoughts since almost the first days of First Year, though the direction of these thoughts had changed often and considerably in the past six and a half years. At first, toi thought him cute, in that adorable boy-next-door way; but that all changed when he threw his (admittedly sub-standard) Burning Solution on toi in Potions ("It was an accident, I swear it was!") and burned holes all over the brand new robes toi had only just bought in Diagon Alley the mois before. Since then, he had only been referred to as Potter, and always in that scathing tone toi reserve for him and only him.
Recently, however, you've noticed that things have began to change: your thoughts are occupied par him plus and more, and the context is less and less negative, and quite frankly it's very confusing. toi have no idea why this is happening, toi only know that it is, and toi can't say that toi like it too much. toi have always thought of Potter as intolerable, arrogant and incredibly self-absorbed, but lately you've been finding yourself wanting to call him James, thinking that those qualities toi used to find insufferable are now adorable and endearing and not nearly as negative as toi think. At the back of your mind, toi know exactly what's happening, but you're avoiding it as firmly as possible since toi think your head might implode if toi actually acknowledged it. And so toi settle for staring at him in the common room when you're supposed to be working on your Charms essay.
It's almost as if toi have some invisible radar tuned to him, because toi feel it as soon as he gets up and makes his way across the common room towards you.
"Lily?"
"Hey, James."
"Hey. So, the guys and I were planning on going traîneau, traîneau à chiens outside... do toi think you'd like to rejoindre us?" He punctuates this statement with a hiccup.
"James, have toi guys been drinking again?"
He has the good grace to look ashamed, even in his slightly tipsy state (the Marauders could hold their alcohol like no one's business – except maybe for Peter).
"James, I told you, not in front of the first-years! I don't want them getting influenced par your Marauding ways at such a tender young age."
"Tender young age?" he snorts, and toi can't help but laugh at your own choice of vocabulary. "Besides, do toi see any firsties around?"
toi scan the room, hoping to spot even one errant little first-year so as to have reason to continue berating him (you find it oddly satisfying) but come up disappointingly short. With a sigh, toi turn back to him and hold your hands up in defeat. "Fine, no firsties. Just do try to keep it in check, will you?"
"Will do, Lils. Now how about that sledding?"
Your cœur, coeur skips a beat when he calls toi 'Lils' – no one calls toi that except him – and toi only barely catch the end of the sentence. "What? Sledding, yeah, sure. Just let me get my cloak, okay? I'll meet toi here in five."
"Brilliant," he replies, and toi grab your Charms essay – completely forgotten at this point – and head up to your dormitory to ditch the livres and grab your cloak. toi take a minute to braid your hair, frowning at the strands that won't reach and stay where they are, framing your face, but deciding that faulty braids are still the most convenient option. Winding your Gryffindor scarf around your neck as toi go, toi descend the stairs to find that the other Marauders have gone outside already, leaving only James to wait for you. This Suits – Avocats sur Mesure toi fine, however, even if toi do try to smother the pleasure toi feel at the notion of walking outside with him.
"My lady," James says with a small bow and a grin as he offers toi his arm, which toi gladly take. Giggling slightly, toi allow yourself to be led to the portrait hole and out of the common room, doing your level best (and yet failing miserably) to ignore the curious glances toi get. toi let them watch, for once not caring about the rumours that are bound to fly throughout the school once it gets out that James Potter was seen leading Lily Evans out of the Gryffindor common room, both of them laughing and neither looking ready to blow the other's head off. You're too happy at that exact moment, too happy to care about what you'll have to deal with tomorrow.
Once toi arrive at the designated traîneau, traîneau à chiens spot, toi notice that there is exactly one sled and five people. Of course, this wouldn't be a problem, were the Marauders not the sort to pile everyone up in the same sled just for the hell of it.
"Before anyone says anything, I am not getting into that sled with all five of you, just so toi know," toi say with a grin.
"But, Lilyyyy," Sirius whines. "It's perfectly safe!" he attempts to prove this statement par grabbing Remus and Peter and shoving them into the sled and jumping aboard before pushing off rather enthusiastically. All three end up sprawled in the snow. toi laugh again. "Nuh-uh. So not happening."
James suddenly looks at toi with a glint in his eye toi know can't mean anything good. "How about it, Lils?" He summons the sled and sits in the very back, patting the l’espace between his legs. "Come on... it'll be fine, I swear it will." Another hiccup reminds toi again of the fact that he's slightly tipsy at the very least, and it would therefore probably be extremely unwise to get into a sled capable of going Merlin-knows-how-fast with him. toi ignore it and sit down, leaning back into him ever so slightly. He wraps one arm around your waist to keep toi steady, and yells, "Fire in the hole, mates!" down at his Friends before pushing off at least as vigorously as Sirius.
The ride down is short and exhilarating; toi find yourself screaming and his arm tightens around toi instinctively. toi laugh, partly at his over-protectiveness and partly at the pure thrill of gliding downhill at unforeseen speeds.
However, it's over way too soon. The sled hits a rock ou something, and toi find yourself flying through the air, and for the briefest moment it's like toi have wings (except for the part where James's arm is still hooked somewhat around your waist). The feeling only lasts for a second, though, and suddenly toi find yourself lying in the snow on your back, and somehow James has managed to fall right on haut, retour au début of you. "Oof," toi let out instinctively; 17-year-old boys tend to be quite heavy. James, however, doesn't seem to notice; it's like the possibly copious amounts of spiked Butterbeer he's had today finally catches up to him, as his eyes go all dreamy and unfocused. The suivant seconde they're totally focused again and staring straight into yours. The suivant thing he says confirms your spiked-Butterbeer-theory:
"Lily, I l’amour you." The words make your cœur, coeur skip a beat, another one, a third one – you're wondering how many beats is it possible to skip. He's a dit it before, but never with this expression on his face. Your head is actually threatening to implode as toi finally realise what's been staring toi in the face for about three months now. toi take a deep breath, hardly believing what you're about to do.
"James... I think I l’amour you, too."
He turns away reflexively, as if ready to go nurse his wounds again, and then turns back so fast you're surprised he doesn't get the clichéd whiplash.
"Wait... what was that? I don't think I heard correctly." A smile begins to play at the corners of his mouth as he begins to process what he thought he heard. An identical grin spread across your face as toi realise the full truth of the words toi just said.
"I said, James, that I think I l’amour toi too."
His grin is now reaching levels toi didn't think possible. He leans down to Kiss you, and your senses are so full of him toi wouldn't notice Sirius's wolf-whistles if it weren't for the arm James briefly removes from around your waist to give him the finger before bringing it back to berceau, station d’accueil your face.
