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“Everyone has a secret they haven’t shared. Everyone has a past no one’s heard about. Everyone has talents that people don’t notice. Everyone has weaknesses hidden inside. Everyone has a story left untold.”
~~~
The Stupid Secrets I’d Rather Not Admit but Have Written Down Anyways
By: (a reluctant) Lily Evans
Oh lovely, leather-bound diary. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever done. Just to let you know.
1. James Potter has lovely eyes.
The very first time I saw him, I believe that may have been the first thing I noticed. His eyes. A beautiful, glowing hazel. I might have even likened them to glimmering chestnuts. Maybe.
Unfortunately, he chose to ruin that particular illusion by opening his mouth and saying something that was most likely horribly arrogant.
Another time, a few year later, I looked into his eyes a
little too long, and felt that chestnut comparison rushing back into my mind quicker than I could’ve said snitch
.
I mean, he had to wave a hand in front of my face, like “hello?” and I immediately snapped out of it.
I think that’s probably when my undoing began.
But I don’t like to dwell on my mistakes.
2. James Potter is secretly nice.
“Hey, Evans, need any help there?” he called out from underneath me. I glared down at him.
Ok, so I felt really stupid. Standing on a ladder, attaching Christmas ivy to walls of the Heads Common room, I probably
looked even stupider. But what can I say? I was homesick.
“Seeing as you are a witch, and all, you could probably just do that with a wand, you know,” James pointed out. I could hear the smirk in his voice. Bastard.
“Well,
James,” I said, focusing my attention back on the ivy I was pinning up. “It just so happens that my nostalgia for Christmastime urges me to retreat to family traditions even if I’m not at home. Hence the
conjured ladder and my
delightful Christmas cheer.” I may have accidently growled that last bit.
James didn’t respond. I figured he’d left, which suited me just fine. I didn’t like him hanging around in the first pla-HEY!
Stupid wizard, he’d climbed up the opposite side of the ladder, a handful of frothy green ivy in his hands, an idiotically foolish smile on his face. “Hi, Lily.”
I rolled my eyes and continued pinning.
And though I hated to admit it to myself, his chivalry made my stomach flip.
3. James Potter has unparalleled talent for Quidditch.
So maybe I’ve been to every single Quidditch match of my Hogwarts career. So what? Is it a
crime to secretly love a sport I’ve sworn to hate in front of even my closest friends?
Well, when I put it that way…
It was awful luck that I was so bad at flying. Because if I hadn’t been, I have to think things might have turned out differently between me and Quidditch.
My yearning to be good at Quidditch...well let’s just say it’s pretty pitiful. I’ve got it all layed out in my head and everything:
Quidditch tryouts on a beautiful, sunny day, my fifth year.
The original team is lined up before me: Chasers Potter, Ashdown and Marwick, beaters Black and Griffiths, keeper and captain Ellis, but no seeker.
Because obviously, since this was my
fantasy, I would get the most respected and pivotal position on the team.
Behind me stand half a dozen other hopefuls trying out for seeker. I scoff at them. They don’t stand a chance.
Ellis blows his whistle, and we’re off. I kick off and soar through the air, not a care in the world, confident with a capital C. I’ve been practicing. The other hopefuls, clumsy on their brooms, struggle after the snitch, trying to avoid quaffles, beaters and their own inability to play all at the same time. I laugh delightfully. I’m too talented for my own good.
Eventually the last contestant still airborne, I get down to business. Like a bullet speeding through the air, I streamline towards the tricky snitch, catching it in a moment of pure genius. Around me, the team explodes with cheers. I hold the snitch in the air, jubilation soaring through my veins. Ellis shouts “You’re in!” and the team surrounds me in glee. They clap me on the back, saying “brilliant, Evans!” or “great catch!”
I just smile and say “thank you”, glad I finally got the chance to showcase my fantastically remarkable Quidditch talent. I even feel so happy that I catch Potter’s eye and laugh out loud at the windblown expression on his face, the look of pure amazement, the-
Hmph. That’s usually where the fantasy ended.
I’d rouse myself from the delusional vision and would most likely find myself sitting at a real-life Quidditch game, witnessing the extraordinary talent of James Potter as he did whatever the hell Chasers are supposed to do.
At this point, I’d probably be in a bad mood because he was good and I wasn’t, and even if I didn’t want to believe it, I was unconditionally jealous.
Not that I’d ever admit that to anyone.
4. James Potter has this ridiculous habit of tousling his hair every five seconds. Hmm- scratch that.
4. James Potter has this ridiculously sexy habit of tousling his hair every five seconds.
Seriously. Only an egotistical
fool would think ruffling a hand through his hair constantly in order to make it appear as though he’d just stepped off a broom would make females swoon.
Oh wait. I
know such an egotistical fool.
And, oh, yeah. It
does make most females swoon. The operative word in that sentence being
most.
And…maybe, once in a while, this habit catches my eye and makes my stomach give a little
swoop. But that reaction is scarce. Very…scarce.
Okay, okay.
Fine. So maybe James Potter and his stupidly beautiful messy hair make me shiver when no one’s looking. I mean, so what? That doesn’t mean I
like him. And it certainly doesn’t change anything about anything.
So don’t go telling anybody about this. It’s nothing.
Nothing.
5. James Potter has a way with words.
I looked at him, aghast. “Excuse me?”
James had an indifferent, calm expression on his face, which completely opposed the sunburst of emotion that had just exploded in my mind.
“I said I love waking up early because the earlier I wake up, the more time I have to spend sitting there, thinking about you.” He repeated, almost thoughtfully, chewing on a croissant. “It’s the best part of my day.”
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out; what on earth was I supposed to say to that?
In another time, another place, another life, I know exactly what I would have done. I would have simply melted into a pile of shivery, romantic goo and burst into tears of love, throwing myself into his arms and going on and on about how outrageously sweet he was.
But, of course, this was the now, we were in the Great Hall eating breakfast and he was James Potter. More importantly, I was Lily Evans. Not shivery, romantic goo.
“Um…”
Whoever said eloquence is the best route when stunned? Because as you can see, I clearly choose the smarter path. Stupidity.
Sometimes I hate the way James looks at me. There’s something nonsensically, illegally adoring in his eyes. It’s at moments like this when I question why exactly I don’t like him.
And it’s all
his fault. Making me feel guilty, stupid and shivery. Stupid, stupid,
stupid James Potter.
Have I mentioned that stupid is my favorite descriptor?
Actually, I’d say stupid is my favorite word, just in general. In case you were wondering.
So there I am, gaping opened-mouthed and practically drooling at a boy who may as well have just said ‘I love you’.
“Lily, I think there’s a cobweb growing underneath your jaw,” James joked, apparently not noticing how conflicted he just made me feel. He reaches out and flicks his fingers gently across the underside of my chin, cheerful and completely unaware of my state.
Whether it was his touch or the laughter of the people surrounding us at the table, something made me clamp my mouth shut and look away, swallowing hard.
Yeah, James Potter can be stupid.
But sometimes, I think
I’m the stupider one.
6. James Potter has a fine body.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Wow, Evans, that’s pretty shallow. And yeah, it is pretty shallow. But you know what, journal? You can deal with it. Because this whole diary deal is my thing. Not yours.
And anyways, this, like so many other things, is entirely his fault. If I hadn’t ‘accidently’ seen him half-naked, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed.
Well, okay, that’s a lie. I would have noticed, because of the awful way Hogwarts’ uniforms seem to have been specifically designed to show off that kid’s
finesse. And he knows it.
Why else would he make sure to undo the top two buttons and roll up those sleeves? He knows that damn collarbone of his looks irresistibly kissable when exposed and he knows that the stupid muscles in his stupid forearms flex constantly when he’s irritated.
Merlin, I hate it.
Because if I hadn’t noticed those things, then maybe encountering such…
nakedness afterwards wouldn’t have affected me so much.
Two things are to blame for the following incident: my lack of ability to function properly in the early morning and the architectural format of the Head’s rooms. I mean, who makes
one bathroom for
two people? I, for one, think that was a pretty stupid idea on someone’s part.
But I will give myself a little credit- I think waking up at 7 AM to study for a Charms exam gave me a right to be sleepy and incoherent- don’t you? And when you have to use the bathroom at 7 AM and you’re sleepy and incoherent, who
wouldn’t forget that they happen to share a bathroom with a male and forget to knock? I know
I would.
Well, that’s probably just because I did.
Yes, I walked right in, eyelids still heavy with tired. And there he was, in all his half-naked glory, brushing his teeth and humming to himself. I might have done a double-take- I don’t exactly remember. But what I do remember is freezing, literally
freezing in my tracks and staring.
You can’t blame me on this one. No girl in their right mind wouldn’t stop and stare. Because, well, it being 7 AM, and me being sleepy and incoherent, and him being totally
muscular by the sink, well. Yeah. I guess it all just added up.
After a few seconds I’m pretty sure the tiredness sort of just evaporated and I came to. He was looking at me a little weird, with an eyebrow cocked. So shaking my head stupidly and spluttering something like “Uh, uh, I’m-uh, well-I’ll, uh…um…” I ran as fast as I could out of the room.
Even hurling myself face-first into my bed and covering my head with my pillow didn’t eliminate the bright-red blush from my face or the searing image from my mind.
In that stupid moment I realized no one- no one- else could have affected me as much as James Potter had, standing next to the sink innocently enough, clad only in a towel round his waist. Don’t ask me how I knew this. Because I have no idea.
But it sure made me shake. It was just him, I told myself. Just a boy who I happened to despise and who happened to have a killer upper-torso.
Yep, I know. It was, indeed, very pathetic. Pathetic that I was pretty much quivering over a
chest. For Merlins sake, Lily! I told myself.
It’s not the first bare chest you’ve ever seen in your life.
Yes, but it might just have been the best one up to this point.
Argh. See what this stupid boy is doing to me? Making me conflict even within my own mind! My own mind for crying out loud! My
mind is supposed to be the sane one in such situations. But not anymore. And all because of some stupid arm muscles- and stupid chest muscles. And stupid abdominal muscles. And stupid little beads of water tricking down said stupid muscles into a stupid little belly button-ARGH.
Must. Stop. Bad. Thoughts. NOW.
7. James Potter is a good kisser.
…how do you know?
That’s a great question.
I assure you. I know against my own will. That is, I was forced into the kiss. Well, it wasn’t violent or anything- there wasn’t even any spellwork involved. And well, okay, it wasn’t exactly
forced, but, well…you’ll see.
It was May of sixth year. The end of the year was close enough to taste, and you could feel it in the atmosphere at Hogwarts. Excitement bounced off the walls of the hallways, classrooms and common rooms. Summer was near.
However, exams were still looming in the future as well, and being the dedicated student that I was, I was off studying in the library that day. Unfortunately, so were the Marauders.
Now, if you are to understand one thing about the Marauders, it’s that
studying isn’t quite what they did. I’d call it more- plotting. Scheming. Destroying. You know. The works.
I couldn’t help but be suspicious of their huddled heads, cramped together around a table in the corner. Sure, there were books opened on the table, but I saw right through their façade. I knew what they were up to. And I intended to put a stop to it.
Purposefully, I stood up, shoving my book, quill, and parchment into my shoulder bag. I paused a moment before pursuing my intent, touching my fingers to my hair. For a weird second, I hoped that the bow I’d used to pull it back that morning was still in place.
But then I caught myself. Was I trying to
impress someone?
Nah…*gulp*.
Shaking my head as if to physically rid the thought, I marched towards where the Marauders sat in the corner. As soon as I reached the edge of their table, their chatter immediately stopped. All four of them looked up at me.
“Hell-o there, Evans,” chimed James, a smile plastered across his face. “Would love to chat, but we’ve got important things to discuss, so…”
“
So,” I glared at him openly. “I have all the more reason to stay and warn you
lot that if this chattering results in some horrible prank on an innocent student, I will make it a
point to give you all detention. So if I were you, I’d save yourselves the trouble and study for exams as you should be doing anyways.”
The Marauders continued to stare at me for a moment. Then Remus spoke up. “Um, well, thanks for the advice, Lily.”
All four of them then looked at each other significantly and promptly burst out laughing.
I guffawed. “Well, I don’t see what’s so funny about this!” I stuck my hands on my hips for emphasis. This probably just made me look stupider. “Because this certainly is
not a laughing matter.”
James’ laughter died away a little bit, and he sobered, standing up. “May I talk to you alone for a moment, Evans?”
I looked suspiciously over his shoulder where Peter, Remus and Sirius were still doubled over in laughter. “No.”
I whirled on my heel and walked heatedly out of the library, angry that even my authority as Prefect couldn’t control the Marauders. Fearless jerks.
I was also completely aware that James had not heeded my request and was indeed following my exit, thank you very much.
So I led him through what I hoped was labyrinth of hallways until I finally stormed into an empty classroom, turning around and hoping I’d lost him somewhere along the way.
Remarkably, he’d kept up. A silly smile was etched onto his features as he sauntered over to where I stood, hands in his pockets. I crossed my arms across my chest for good measure.
“What do you want?” I snapped.
James couldn’t seem to quit that dumb smile. “It’s just, it’s really quite funny, what happened back there.”
“Well, I don’t think it was funny at all.” I responded.
“Then I’ll explain.” Hazel eyes sparkled with amusement. Very stupid amusement, of course. “Well, for one, we
were studying. Which is odd, I know. Very odd. But we were.”
“Okay, sure.” I rolled my eyes.
James took a step closer to me. “And don’t you realize, Evans, that no matter how much
authority you have over us, we’re not going to stop pulling pranks just because you threaten us with detention?”
I was appalled at my own lack of argument. It’s just…something about the way he was standing
right there and the fact that that stupid sparkle in his eyes kept making my heart beat faster and faster was making my thoughts sort of just disappear.
Yeah. It was really stupid.
So was my dignified reply. “Um, well- you should…um…feel threatened.”
Mm. Very fluent, Lily.
James laughed out loud. Maybe he sensed the weakness in my knees. I don’t know. Maybe he’s just suave.
“No!”
Yeah...I definitely said that out loud. Not one of my best moments.
James’ brow crinkled, and he stepped closer to me yet. “What?”
I bit my lip. “Nothing.” It sounded like a squeak.
James eyes roamed my face for a second. We were way too close. “You know, you’re really cute when you act weird.”
What a charmer.
But before I had a chance to say something even stupider, he got up in my face. Like,
in my face. And then everything around me was gone- it was just his eyes. Just hazel…sparkling hazel.
I felt his breath on my chin and I didn’t even have time to hate him before he kissed me.
It was a simple kiss, really. Just lips against lips. A second without breath, without sight, without identity. Just him and me, kissing.
Yeah, I know. Crazy.
Somewhere in the back of my head, Normal Lily was screaming “What are you doing?! Why are you letting him kiss you?! Why is this feeling actually okay and not totally gross?! What is going on?!”
And I guess Normal Lily got the better of me, because then I pulled back and we weren’t kissing anymore. We were just standing there, wide-eyed and staring.
And I had nothing to say, because, I mean, what do you say? So I did the second most natural thing. I ran.
And have fiercely avoided discussing the incident ever since.
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