Work Text:
When: February 1977
James wasn’t sure of what he was supposed to think of all this. In reality, the answer was quite simple, or at least it was from an objective point of view. The decision was practically made for him.
Then why on earth did he insist on debating it?
In one corner was the girl of his dreams, the beautiful, insatiable, vivacious Lily Evans; in the other, a girl of admittedly lesser consequence – still pretty, still nice and kind of funny – but who possessed something Lily did not.
For you see, James may be head over heels for Lily, but this other girl, she was head over heels for James.
It hadn’t occurred to him that maybe that might happen; that, in his quest to woo his fiery siren, he might accidentally court the attention of another. It was unexpected and sort of unwelcome, though he had enough of a conscious to feel bad about that; he didn’t want this girl’s attention, no matter how pleasant she was. He wanted Lily’s, and no one else’s.
He didn’t even understand it himself. Why did he keep torturing himself with the chase, a chase that not even his best friends thought he would ever close in on? Lily didn’t like him. It was clear in the way she looked at him as if he was something stuck on the bottom of her shoe, in the way she said his surname as if it was an epithet, in the way that she would never, ever inquire about anything – even if he walked into the classroom with one of the giant squid’s suckers on his face, which had happened once, actually. She had absolutely no interest in him – in fact, some would say she might even loathe James – and yet, James couldn’t quite let go, no matter how much he was starting to think he should.
She was glorious, Miss Evans; it was enough to make the Gods sigh. She was more than a conventional beauty, more than just a pretty face; no one could deny that every day she would uncurl another pedal, show another side of her that was even more coveted than the last. She was strong, independent, driven, and didn’t take any crap from anyone. (Oh, James knew that fact well.) Lily didn’t lie unless it was necessary, never cheated or stole anything, and had a sense of justice so strong that James could easily see her being Head Girl. She inspired him every day he saw her.
She also tore him down and made him feel like absolute shit every day he saw her, too, which is why he was having this particular debate in the first place.
The other girl was sweet, a little plain but not ugly, with a sincere heart and shy smile. She was cute, and James could see that she wasn’t without her suitors, though granted they weren’t exactly the highest selection Hogwarts offered. They had a few things in common, and she was easy to talk to in class whenever Sirius was off being stupid or Remus was sick or Peter was taking up everyone’s attention by blowing something up. She was a nice match, and would suit him well.
But she wasn’t Lily.
She didn’t make James want to become a better person, though she did make James feel like he was a prince among peasants at times. She wasn’t the one he wanted to turn to in times of need, though he knew she would listen. She also didn’t make his heart jump, his head feel dizzy, his palms sweat whenever he saw her. He would be glad to see her if he saw her, but nothing more than that.
She wasn’t Lily.
But she did like him.
She didn’t make a face and turn her head every time he opened his mouth. She did always encourage him to do his best, even if she didn’t stretch his limits the way Lily tended to do.
And she didn’t make him feel like shit. That point was very important.
Oh, the heart of a young boy, so easy to fall in love, so easy to swoon! How was he supposed to choose? His Goddess, or his worshipper? It was enough to make Shakespeare’s heart break, he was sure.
Well, granted, James still had quite some time to learn how to woo Lily – if he wasn’t lucky enough to just get over her first. And in the meantime, was he really expected to just wait around for her to notice how awesome he was? That was just masochistic. (Never mind that liking Lily at all was a rather masochistic cause.)
Yet…even though his arm was around this girl’s waist, even though she blushed whenever he smiled and followed him around like a puppy, something was still wrong.
She didn’t make him fight.
She didn’t make him stumble over his words (or his feet).
She didn’t make his heart stop.
And so, the debate continued.