A/N: Just a short, fluffy oneshot. Sorry for all the clichés, but you gotta love 'em! Thanks for reading!!
Disclaimer: Characters and places you recognize don't belong to me.
Acknowledgements: Thanks, as always, to Jo Rowling for these wonderful characters and for leaving so much open for us to write fanfics about.
Dedication: For anyone who thinks they may be in love with James Potter.
.o.o.o.
Falling
in Every Way
by Katey Lou
.o.o.o.
You've probably heard of me. I'm Lily Evans, Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, top of my class in every subject except Transfiguration, and one side of the infamous Potter-Evans rivalry.
In the past, James Potter has been the most annoying and bullying prat I'm sure this school has ever seen. He's the ringleader of Hogwarts' biggest group of pranksters, also known as the Marauders. He and Sirius Black, his second-in-command, have broken nearly every rule in the school and have long held the record for most detentions.
James was on my nerves from day one, when he pushed me into the lake on our way to the Great Hall for the sorting. Ever since then, he's enjoyed tormenting me in every way imaginable, whether it be pulling pranks or asking me out. Yes, during years three through six, he asked me to accompany him on every Hogsmeade visit, and no amount of declining could get it through his thick head that I didn't like him. Notice I didn't include year seven in that.
Actually, it's nearly December, and James hasn't asked me to Hogsmeade yet, even though two of the annual visits have come and gone. I was certainly surprised, to say the least, when I found out Professor Dumbledore had made him Head Boy. But it was only a few minutes into the first prefect meeting before I realized that James Potter had changed. He'd dropped the better-than-everyone attitude, and though he was still arrogant, it was on a much lesser, even cute, level.
That's right, I just admitted I think James Potter is cute. And I hear you saying "Join the rest of the female Hogwarts population." Yes, James Potter and Sirius Black actually both have official fan clubs. However, I'm proud to say that I haven't let down my defenses enough to join the JTPOFCH (the James Tristan Potter Official Fan Club of Hogwarts), which meets twice a week in the far corner of the Gryffindor common room.
It took me a few weeks to get used to the more mature James Potter who took his Head Boy duties somewhat seriously. It helped that we now share a private common room, but eventually we became so comfortable with each other that it'd be safe to call us friends.
Erm, comfortable on the outside, that is. Because James had suddenly gotten rid of all the traits I despised in him, my feelings for him were changing. It took me a very long time and a lot of long talks with Alice for me to realize my feelings had taken a nearly one-hundred and eighty-degree turn.
And now here it is, nearly the beginning of December. I've been on good terms with James Potter for about three months now, and I have to say, these have been the best three months of all the years I've spent here.
So all is well in my safe world of Hogwarts, except for one slight thing, that is. I've recently acquired a nasty habit of falling, for some reason usually only when I'm in the presence of one James Potter.
I fall over something every time I'm around him these days. Chairs, tables, rugs, my own feet, other people's feet, non-existent bumps in the floor -- the list goes on and on. But the worst way I fall when I'm around him is into his eyes. It's just so hard to pick myself up and come back to earth from that place where the inside of his eyes lives.
I wonder if he's noticed me falling into his eyes recently? I absentmindedly stare at him as I make my way over to the fire to sit across from him in our common room. It is late at night, and I've just finished the Charms essay due next week. Not surprisingly, given my supreme ability to fall over invisible things in his presence, I trip, apparently over my own feet, and land rather ungracefully in the armchair adjacent James. He's been staring into the fire, but looks up at my clumsy entrance.
He grins at the cross look on my face. "Walk much, Evans?"
He's only joking, I know, as we haven't called each other by our surnames for months now. Still, I'm rather cross at myself and once again take it out on him. "Stuff it, Potter." And I'm not joking about the surname bit.
A small look of hurt and worry crosses his face, but in true Potter fashion, he supports his side a moment longer, though he's finally learned not to cross the line too far with me. He holds up his irresistible Marauder grin for another moment, long enough to mischievously say, "You seem to be falling an awful lot recently."
I stare moodily into the fire for a few minutes, contemplating whether or not to say what's running through my mind. He probably won't get it anyway, I muse, so better to just say it and have it off my chest.
I look up, staring straight into warm hazel eyes. Now is not the time to fall into his eyes! Must…look…away… But in a second I'm looking back at him, this time willing myself to stay on the surface of those lovely hazel orbs. "I'm afraid of falling," I murmur, already feeling myself lose my resolve not to fall into his eyes again.
To my extreme surprise, he seems to understand the meaning of my statement. He must know me better than I think. What's more, he must have noticed my apparently-not-so-secret staring fests over the last few months. His face softens, and he looks at me lovingly as he whispers what's probably the sweetest and most romantic thing I'll ever hear. "I'll catch you, Lily."
He does catch me, both metaphorically and literally, when I fall into his lap a moment later, attempting to gracefully walk over to him but failing miserably by tripping over yet another invisible bump. Not only does he catch me, but he kisses me right then and there, which is just as sweet.
.o.o.o.
Finite
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