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I LOVE YOU


“He just jumped off the bloody balcony and flew away?” Sirius was staring at James in utter disbelief.

James nodded, “Casual as could be. Just…” and he mimed somebody walking with his fingers across his arm and off his elbow. “And…” a wave of his hand to indicate the flying.

Sirius looked around at Remus and Peter. “Alright, blokes, I know it’s Moldy Voldy that’s done it but… that’s sort of ridiculously badass.”

Remus said, “It’s… impressive, that’s for sure.”

Peter trembled, “But he can fly,” he said nervously, “He can bloody fly! Without a broomstick! That’s… that’s…”

“Hardcore?” Sirius suggested.

“I was thinking terrifying to the depths of my very soul, rather,” Peter said, “But sure. Hardcore works as well.”

Sirius leaned back against Remus’s lap on their bed, taking a bite out of a licorice wand, crossing one leg over his knee and wagging the wand as he spoke, “You know, you got to hand it to him, the Dark Lord is obviously horrid and I hate his fucking guts, but blow me and call me Drooble’s Best if he ain’t got style.”

“I may never eat Droobles again,” James announced, throwing a stuffed bear that one of the girls had left outside the Marauder’s dormitory door that afternoon with a balloon and a note asking James to the Yule Ball.

“Throwing your bloody fan gifts at me, are you, Potter?” Sirius snapped, sitting up and grabbing the bear from the air as he sailed at Sirius’s face. He turned the bear over. “Oh gods Evans, this thing is grotty. Look at it’s stupid face. It makes me want to stab it in the heart.”

“It talks, too,” Peter, who had been the one who had found it, said.

Sirius looked over, “No. It doesn’t. It can’t. Does it?”

“Squeeze it.”

Sirius squeezed it.

I LOVE YOU! the bear squeaked.

James was red.

“Fuck me sideways.” Sirius looked over at James. “Please. Give me permission to stab it.”

“I don’t care what you do with it,” James replied.

Sirius grinned and pulled out his pocket knife. He was about to spear the bear in the heart when he paused and said, “NO. Wait. Bloody hell you know what would be marvelous? We fly up to the top of the tower and tie it onto the spire.”

James snorted.

“Seriously, though, they’re getting a mite crazy,” Remus said.

“Siriusly,” snickered Sirius, who was using his knife to cut a seam in the back of the bear.

“Yeah will you please pick someone to go to the Yule Ball already?” begged Peter, “They ask us every time you’re not around where you’re at and if you’ve got someone yet and when you’ll be chosing and it’s just so bloody annoying.”

James snickered, “I haven’t decided yet. I’m holding out ‘til all the prospects are in.”

“The prospects are basically every fucking female in this entire school,” Sirius said, digging about in the cottony guts of the bear and withdrawing the plastic voice box. “And also that Ravenclaw bloke with the bad haircut.”

“Anthony,” said Remus, “His name is Anthony Sparks.”

“Anthony Sparks? Really?” James said, feigning interest, “How about that.” He laid back on his mattress and looked at the ceiling.

Sirius said, “And you haven’t done your annual bid for Evans yet.” He squeezed the voice box with his fist.

I LOVE YOU.

Remus grabbed for the box, “That fake voice is creepy, stop it.”

Sirius grinned and squeezed it again, stretching to keep it out of Remus’s reach.

Accio voicebox!”

Sirius scrambled to keep hold on it. “No! It’s mine!”

I LOVE YOU.

“I’m not asking Evans this year,” James declared.

Sirius looked over and in his surprise, he dropped the box and it went flying to Remus’s fist. “Ha!” Remus looked quite triumphant.

“What do you mean you aren’t asking Evans this year? Of course you’re bleeding asking Evans this year! It’ tradition! You can’t break tradition!” Sirius said.

James said, “I’m sick of traditionally getting my heart shattered, thank you. I’ll just ask one of the fawning admirers. I’m thinking on asking Carly Shaw.”

“Ugh! No! You can’t ask that wildebeast!” Sirius complained.

Remus looked up, “Carly is very pretty. Just because she hits on you doesn’t make her an African ox.”

“Is that what a wildebeast is? I didn’t even know.”

“Read a book sometime, mate,” Remus said, rolling his eyes.

Sirius made another bid for the voice box and Remus held it up over his head, accidentally squeezing it. I LOVE YOU.

James sighed, “The other option is Emmaline Vance, but I don’t know. She’s a Ravenclaw. She might be too smart for me.”

Don’t say it like that, you’re very smart.

Lily’s voice echoed in James’s head and he bit his lip.

“If you like smart girls, then, you know, there are plenty of smart girls right here in Gryffindor!” Sirius said. He paused. “Like Evans.”

“Fucking hell Sirius, leave him alone! He doesn’t want to ask Lily!” Remus snapped.

Silence fell over the dormitory.

Sirius looked up at Remus.

Remus stared down at Sirius.

James sat up. “Annyyyyyway… I’m going to practice.”

Sirius said, “I’d come but… my elbow’s just… still so painful… from my injury.”

James said, “Yeah, it looks it.”

Sirius was still grabbing at the voice box from the bear that Remus held aloft, a grin on his face. “I’ll come next time,” he promised.




The practice went well, though it was cold and rainy and everyone ended up soaked and running off the pitch to the lockers and on to the castle the moment James had called it quits. Lily sighed as she collected abandoned equipment from the pitch and brought it into the locker room, putting it up on the shelves and hooks where it belonged.

She was bundling up, about to go when she spotted James Potter’s Gryffindor scarf laying over one of the benches. She knew it was hit because he had a Doctor Who badge stuck onto it and she picked the scarf up and lifted it to her nose, smelling the musky, spicy scent of him.

He just smelled so bloody good.

She sat down, hugging the scarf to her face.

Suddenly, the showers door opened.

Lily looked up in surprise. She’d thought she was there all by herself. She had no idea that anyone had stayed behind… and yet, there was the door, opening up and a load of steamy air billowing like a great grey cloud from within, pouring out, filling the locker room and blurring up her vision for a moment…

But then she focused.

First on the fact that he held a towel around his waist, his fist around it at his hip… It was a smallish towel. Barely hung over his thighs. His knees were bony, his shins sort of hairy… But his abdomen came up out of the white towel like the carving of a god and his pecs, too, his torso smooth and defined… right up to the dip of his collarbone… his broad shoulders, tanner than his chest was… he had a small scar across his chest by his shoulder, and his biceps were thick with muscle built up from quidditch, just like she’d imagined…

Her breath caught in her throat.

His glasses were fogged from the steam.

He didn’t see her at first. Didn’t see her oogling him.

Then they cleared a bit and he realized she was there and he reacted with shock, “Oh! Gods! Evans!” he jumped backward, tripping on the step up into the showers and fell backward, his hand loosing grip on his towel -- though she didn’t see much but a blur of flesh tone -- and she covered her eyes with his scarf, her jaw dropped. “What’re you doing here Evans?!”

“Oh my gods!” she cried and she jumped up and ran for the door. “I’m leaving! I’m sorry! Oh my gods!”