4 Little Words

Disclaimer: HP is not mine and will not ever be mine.

Chapter 1—James' Dilemma

Sometimes life hit you in the most unexpected moments.

Sometimes life was confusing.


What was confusing was finding James Potter sitting inside his flat on a beautiful warm sunny day, reading and writing.

You heard correctly.

Many people who did not know James would shrug and say 'Big deal.'

However, it was a big deal because James didn't read and write on his own free will.

No, this had to be something important.

Piles of books were found everywhere. Sonnets from Elizabeth Barrett Browning and William Shakespeare were to name a few.

A long piece of parchment lay in front of him with various inkblots on it.

James paused his writing for a moment and looked up, obviously thinking.

Suddenly, with a strangled "BAH" he threw his quill down and clenched his messy jet-black hair as if he wanted to rip it out any second.

How hard was it to compose a poem stating that he was proposing to his girlfriend of two years?

The answer: it was very hard.

He didn't eve know why he even thought of writing a romantic love poem to his girlfriend, Lily Evans. He must have had too much Firewhiskey to drink.

Damn alcohol.

James thought it would be easy to compose a poem. All he had to do was think of some sappy shit, write it down and read it to the girl.

Not only did he realize it was difficult to write a poem, but whatever he wrote it didn't make any sense.

So he decided to head on over to his parents home where he asked his mother if she had any poetry on romance or love.

Margaret Potter had definitely been surprised to hear that her son wanted romantic poetry.

An hour and thirty books later, James started to work on his poem again.

However, he still did not know what to write! Damn his lack of creativity! He used that all up on pranking!

He thought of asking his friend Remus Lupin to help. Remus would know about this crap. However, once James thought of it, the more he realized how stupid it sounded. In addition, his damn pride was in the way.

James definitely was not going to ask his other friend Sirius Black. Knowing Sirius, he would probably give James a book of dirty limericks.

There was also Peter Pettigrew, the last of James' close friends. But, the minute he thought of it. He laughed. Peter wouldn't know anything about poetry! They boy barely read! James always had a feeling that Peter did not know how to read either)

On the other hand, there were always Lily's friends, but James dismissed it. Most of her friends were giggly and to James, they sounded like a pack of chipmunks.

However, there were two of Lily's friends that actually had a mind; Tracey Edwards and Theresa Hudgens.

Tracey was in Spain now, so that left Theresa.

James chuckled. Theresa was Quidditch-obsessed and probably had no clue what poetry was!

James was definitely screwed.


He sighed and looked at his feeble attempts at a poem:

Your eyes are like green fields of grass.

Your hair like a ring of fire.

That's all he had come up with in the three hours he had spent working on this blasted thing.



"Beautiful day outside!" Sirius Black said jovially.



"Nicest day so far this year." Mused Remus Lupin.

Double shit.

Just what James needed.

"It is so nice outside! You know, maybe I should take a long hike through nature, a jog down a path, a stroll down a lane or maybe—" Sirius' eyes darted at the TV Remus had purchased months ago, "Maybe I'll just watch some porn!"

"Don't hex the TV again if it doesn't work!" Remus warned.

"I won't."

Remus' brown eyes darted towards James.

"Oh, hello there James."

James looked at his friend and thought quickly in his head:

Should I tell Remus about my problem?

"Prongs? Why are there sonnets by Elizabeth Barrett Browning sitting at your desk?

The cat is out of the bag now!


A/N: Okay everybody, I'm BAACKK! Did you miss me? -hears crickets in the audience-

Guess not.

Anyway, this little plot has been in my head for the past couple of days or so and I REALLY missed writing too.

I know the first chapter isn't very long, but bear with me. It's two o'clock in the morning.