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“I love you. I really do love you. I love the way you run your hands through your messy hair. I love the way your muscles bulge out of your shirt. I love it that you’re just so smart and funny without even trying. I love the way you fly effortlessly when you play quidditch, and some days I wish you’d take me with you. But you know what I’d love the most? If you took me into a broom closet and had your dirty way with me.”

That was what was supposed to happen after I asked out the Head Girl and she said yes. But for the 1047th time (yes I have kept count), it’s been a variation of: “You’re such a bullying toerag Potter! I hate you! Why can’t you just leave me alone?!”

Well of course I can’t leave her alone. She is of course, the wonderfully gorgeous, insanely intelligent Lily Evans. Otherwise known as The Girl of My Dreams.

The beautiful goddess herself has been turning me down since first year. With her creamy skin, lustrous auburn hair and bright green eyes, there’s no one who could even compare to her in terms of sexiness. Except me.

We’d have such good-looking babies. I can just tell.

But I digress. I’ll have to get her to marry me first.

Which will happen. Just wait and see.

The job would be made easier if she agreed to go out with me though, I must admit. I mean, why did she not like me? I was basically every girl’s dream. Tall, good-looking, messy jet-black hair and piercing hazel eyes, I am quite possibly one of the best things Hogwarts has ever seen. Not only am I undeniably handsome, I happen to be a straight-O student, Head Boy, Captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team and a member of that delightful group, the Marauders. Most girls swoon whenever they see me.

But not Lily. I wonder why.

“It’s because she thinks you’re an arrogant conceited prat.”

Why thank you for the reality check Moony. I really needed to hear that. It’s not as if I haven’t been hearing the same thing from Lily herself, practically EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE.

James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat.

Merlin I’ve heard it so many times it’s been drilled into my head. It’s so sad.

But one day, I will prove to Lily that I’m not just any arrogant conceited prat. I’ll be her arrogant conceited prat.

Don’t believe me?

I bet 1000 galleons she’ll be my girlfriend by the end of this year. Yes, I am that confident. And yes it will happen. I’m sure of it.

It’ll make the best story to tell our kids. I can see it already: the guy that Lily’s been refusing to take notice of for 7 years eventually gets her to go out on a date with him. Not only that, he sweeps her off her feet: kissing her passionately before an adoring audience while upbeat whimsical music plays in the background. Me being the guy in question of course.

Every girl loves that cute, mushy, corny crap. It’s the basic storyline of every high school chick flick.

At least, that what Padfoot told me when trying to convince me to sit through a movie marathon with him.

The things I do for that kid.

Anyway, my point is that Miss Evans will finally give in and go out with me this year. I just haven’t figured out the kinks to my marvellous plan yet.

However, Sirius said he had something figured out. He asked if it was okay if he took matters in his own hands.

I guess I should have known to stop him at that point.

However, me being the best mate, I agreed to his demands without a second thought. I mean, Padfoot wouldn’t intentionally try to sabotage my chances with Lily.

Would he?

It was with much protesting my fellow Marauders randomly shoved me in a broom closet. They also stole my wand, forcing me to stay locked up in this confined space for apparently no reason at all. What lovely human beings they are.

“It’s for your own good!” they insisted, their footsteps trailing off into the distance.

It’s for your own good my ass. I’m now stuck with nothing for company but some brooms and old cleaning equipment on a Friday night. What gits.

In an ideal world, I’d be locked up in a broom closet with the charming Miss Evans herself. Ironically enough, the one girl I actually want to love me is the one girl who can’t bear to have me in her sight.

It’s times like these I think about how much my life sucks.

And then the miracle happens.

The door opens as a redhead is thrown into my arms. Reaching out, I unceremoniously catch her, staggering back into the closet. The door clicks shut and I can hear the smirk in Padfoot’s voice.

“This door is going to stay magically locked until you both snog each other.”

Oh sweet Circe. I’m mortified. What’s worse, I can literally feel Lily’s death stare burn through me. She detaches herself from my arms, brushing down her skirt and folding her arms with an expression I know all too well.

I gulp involuntarily. I am going to die. And Padfoot has just pronounced my death sentence.

Hogwarts broom closets are infamous for providing the perfect hideout for all hormonally-driven teenagers to have some hot and heavy action with their respective girlfriends/boyfriends. Not only do they provide the couple with some much-needed privacy after hours, they give them the excuse to be pressed up against each other in many different pleasurable and wonderful ways.

Believe me, I know from first hand experience.

But this situation is different. Not only is Lily not my girlfriend, I’m probably the last person she wants to be stuck in a broom closet with.

It’s times like these I think about how much my life sucks.

“Errr Lily…do you just want to get this over and done with?” I ask tentatively.

Bad move James, bad move.

“Well you’d LOVE that wouldn’t you Potter? What a brilliant idea, get your friends to ambush me and shove me in a broom closet so I have to kiss you, you arrogant conceited prat.”

Ah, there it is again. Sweet music to my ears.

James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat.

Some things just don’t change.

“I swear I had no idea about any of this,” I say anxiously, running a hand through my ever-messy hair. Can’t she see I’m uncomfortable? Can’t see she that she makes me nervous? Can’t she see that she makes me giddy? Can’t she see she’s the only one for me?

Apparently not.

Lily snorts in derision, distancing herself away from me. “Like I’m going to believe you, Mr I-will-steal-your-clothes-so-you-must-go-out-with-me-Evans-please?”

What? It seemed like a good idea in fifth year. Now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t the cleverest of things I’ve ever done.

As Moony would say: Stupidity 1. Prongs 0.

Balling up my fists, I lean back against the closet wall. Deep breaths James, deeps breaths. One, two…

“You should believe me,” I say, hurt creeping into my voice. “This isn’t how I wanted things to work out.”

Lily shakes her head, still disbelieving. “Really? Then how did you want things to work out Potter?”

She looks at me with such a blazing intensity I swear I’ve lost all coherent thought. How the hell does she even do that? How the hell does she make my insides turn to mush, melt my heart and leave me weak at the knees all at once?

There’s no other explanation for it. Lily must have some special superpower. I think I’ll name her superpower the flower power. Get it? Since her name is a flower and flower rhymes with power.

I am such an idiot.

In the meantime, Lily looks at me impatiently, waiting for a response. Well she better prepare for the verbal diarrhoea that’s heading her way, because she’s majorly screwed up all my internal processes. In an effort to maintain concentration, I drop my gaze to the floor.

“First of all, I would never tell my friends to shove you in a broom closet just so you’d talk to me. I never imagined my first kiss with you to be like this. I never wanted my first kiss with you to be like this. I don’t want to force you to kiss me. I want you to kiss me because you like me. And since that’s not going to happen anytime soon…”

I trail off and look back up at Lily. Her stern expression has been replaced with one of slight bewilderment, as she bites her lip.

Sweet Circe. Does she not understand what she’s doing to me here? Does she not understand that biting her lip is possibly one of the most alluring things ever? It’s bad enough I’m already finding it hard to restrain myself by just being locked up in a broom closet with her. And now she bites her lip?

Back to deep breaths James. Back to deep breaths. Three, four…

“Things would work out if you liked me Evans. And if we went out. Do you know want to know why? Because you’re the only girl for me.”

Lily shakes her head incredulously, but I swear there’s a hint of a smile on her face.

James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat?

“Every time I see you, I swear all my normal functioning processes shut down. And for some reason that I can’t explain, my palms get sweaty, my heart beats faster and my legs start to shake. My serotonin and dopamine levels go into overdrive and I think I’m going to burst with happiness. Then you smile and it’s like the sun has risen. Your eyes light up, your pearly whites are on full display and you just have this contagious zest for life I just can’t get enough of.”

Merlin I sound like a freaking pansy. The boys would gag if they could hear the corniness I’m churning out now.

I hope they can’t hear me.

I know I’m not using the most romantic language. I’m definitely not using the most eloquent language. However, I think Lily gets the point I’m trying to make and that’s definitely the most important thing. And guess what? For once, she’s actually listening to me.

Deep breaths James. Five, six...

“The saddest thing is though, I can’t help but act like a complete idiot every time I see you. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve conjured up flowers for you. I’m sorry I’ve always distracted you in class with crazy pick-up lines, especially when I know you want to concentrate. I’m sorry for teasing you incessantly, even though I know you hate it. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hexed your Hogsmeade dates because I thought you should be going with me instead. I’m sorry for never stopping to ask you out, even though I know you’re going to say no. Most of all, I’m sorry for loving you.”

Someone should really shut me up. I’m literally beyond help at this point. Words just keep spewing out of my mouth.

“I know you think I’m joking, but I swear I’m not.  I love the way your hair falls in the sunlight, highlighting the faint golden streaks. I love the way your face screws up in concentration when you’re trying to solve a problem. I love the way you laugh. I love the way you care about things. I love the way you put everyone else before yourself. I love the way you’re not scared to stand up for what is right. Most of all, I love you Lily Evans. I LOVE YOU!”

Meanwhile, Lily’s jaw has dropped open in shock. I think this is the longest she’s been in my presence without yelling at me. I must be setting some sort of record here.

James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat. James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat?

“But you know the worst thing is? I know you don’t give a damn about me.”

The realisation hits me like a ton of bricks as I take in the enormity of what I’ve just said. It’s all so painfully obvious to me now, right when I’m spilling my guts out to Lily. The irony of the situation is almost too much to bear.

“You don’t care whether I'm dead or alive. You just want me out of your sight. But I don’t care. I’d still die before I’d ever let anything hurt you.”

The sad thing is, I mean every word of what I’m saying. Every single word.  

“I bet you don’t know the gut-wrenching feeling I get, when I know you don’t love me back. I bet you’ve never stopped to think that my feelings for you aren’t a joke. I bet you’ve never stopped to think that I’m actually crazy about you.”

I’m such a mess. I don’t even know what I’m going to blurt out anymore. All I know is that I can’t stop myself from talking. Because asking me to stop right now is like asking Snivellus to use shampoo – it’s not going to happen anytime soon.

“I’ll try my best to forget about you Lily, if that’s what you really want. I’ll – ”

“Just stop James.”

Sweet Circe. Lily just used my first name. She’s never done that. Ever.

Surely I must be doing something right.

I have another look at Lily and all I can see is a mixture of emotions on her face.

And that’s when the words that surprise both of us slip out of my mouth.

“You should go Lily. This is wrong. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I’ll try calling the guys.”

I can’t believe I just said that.


I’m giving her a pass to get out of this scotch free. I’m giving Lily Evans, the love of my life, a chance to get out of this situation without kissing me. This is possibly the closest I will ever be to her in my whole life. And I’m willingly going to pass up on the opportunity.

But my guilty conscience is telling me it’s the right thing to do.

I hate my guilty conscience.

My fists pound the closet doors as I shout at the top of my lungs. Meanwhile Lily looks on with an unreadable expression on her face. I wonder what she’s thinking.

James Potter is an arrogant and conceited prat?

“Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot? Come on, let us out!”

I can literally see the snicker on Padfoot’s face. 

“Did you snog dear Lilykins?”

I give Lily a swift look before answering him. Great. She’s gone back to biting her lip again. There goes my self-control.

“Yes I did.”

From my peripheral vision, I can sense something strange happening. Lily looks at me perplexed, considering the lie I just told my best mate. Suddenly, she begins closing the distance between us, her hands wrapping around my neck. I freeze.

Oh sweet Merlin.

“I heard no action in there!”

Always looking out for my well being, Sirius is. Have I ever mentioned how much I love him? In a strictly non-sexual way, of course.

To my utter disbelief, Lily yells back, “Well you’re about to hear some.”

Somebody pinch me. I must be dreaming.

Before I can even process what’s going on, Lily puts a finger to my lips, whispering softly in my ear.

“I don’t want you to forget about me James.”

And that’s when it happens.

Cue imaginary adoring audience. Cue chick flick storyline. Cue upbeat whimsical music.

Lily Evans stands on her tiptoes and kisses me.

Lily Evans is kissing me. LILY EVANS is kissing me. Lily Evans is KISSING me. Lily Evans is kissing ME.

No matter how many times I tell myself, it still sounds so good.


Maybe James Potter isn’t such an arrogant and conceited prat after all.


Author's note: This is my first ever one-shot! Please be nice and let me know what you think! Reviews are welcomed and I promise I'll respond back to each and every one of them!  Once again, thanks for reading guys, hope you enjoyed it :D    

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