James Potter watched Lily Evans throw her hair up into a messy ponytail. She licked her lips (James stifled a groan) before throwing herself head-first into her essay. From what James could tell, she had only a few sentences left to go.
He looked at his parchment, empty except for his name.
"I'd watch it, mate."
James turned to find Sirius Black beside him working diligently on his homework. James winced. The piece was due in a few hours time, but he couldn't concentrate.
It was all Lily's fault, for sure.
"I wouldn't mess with her, Prongs."
James shook his head, ignoring his friend. If James wanted advice, he'd ask for it.
He tapped his quill against his parchment before turning his attention once more to Lily Evans.
Just what did Sirius mean? He was James Potter. He didn't have to watch anything. He could mess with anything he bloody wanted. And it wasn't like she had a boyfriend or anything. She wasn't years younger than them.
There was absolutely no reason for James to stay away.
Sirius glanced at his friend. "James, I mean it. She's one messed up chick."
"And just what do you know?" James fired.
Sirius only raised his eyebrows. "Much more than you, obviously."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Sirius shook his head without responding. "Just what I told you. I think half the school knows the shit that's going on with her, but you remain blissfully ignorant."
James sputtered.
"Pathetic, really," Sirius mumbled, before signing his name to his parchment with flourish. "Finished. Plan on doing yours sometime before class?"
"What kind of shit?" He couldn't--wouldn't-- let it go. How could James not know what was going on with Lily? She was his girl.
Sort of.
Sirius clapped James on the shoulder. "Sorry, mate. Not my story to tell." He heaved himself off the couch and headed toward the staircase. "I'd finish the essay if I were you."
"Since when can you not tell me things?"
Sirius didn't respond. James sat, wondering just what was wrong with Lily Evans.