Summary: I don't get it. If I've hated him for six years, how could I have possibly fallen for him? That doesn't make sense. The six years should over power the crazy dreams, right? Right?!
Disclaimer: I don't own it.
Logic Doesn't Make Love
a Siriusly Klutzy story.
How is it even possible that after six years of telling myself that I hate him, it turns out that I love him? Is there something wrong in the universe? Did the earth start spinning backwards? Or are the planets just aligning? Because those are the only explanations I can come up with for the impossible to become the truth.
Really though. Six. Years. After six years you'd think I'd know myself enough to know that I was lying to myself. Or at least enough to not lie to myself. It was completely unintentional. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I must have known. I must have. Because you don't just wake up one day and realize that you're over the moon for someone.
Unless you're completely mad, like Alice when she woke up six months ago, owled me, and told me that she thought she fancied Frank- surprise, surprise, next week is their five month anniversary.
But I'm not Alice, I swear to you, I'm not. I'm not- completely, anyway- mad like she is. I don't wake up and decide I fancy someone, particularly someone I previously believed I hated.
But I guess I do. Now.
And, okay, maybe it took more than one morning. But you don't wake up morning after morning with that someone on your mind. You just don't. When you're supposed to hate someone, your mornings should be filled with thoughts of blueberry muffins, and if there's enough pumpkin juice left at breakfast, and whether or not Marlene stole your scarf today.
Not James bloody Potter.
Personally, I blame the dreams.
I dreamt of James Potter.
Something is seriously wrong with me, isn't it?
You don't go from "hating" someone, to dreaming about them, to fancying them. Maybe I should have informed Alice to check me into Saint Mungos once the holidays start. Then I wouldn't even have to deal with Tuney going ballistic about me turning her knickers into handkerchiefs. (Not that anyone would use them, of course, because, erm, ew, but it certainly was fun to see her face afterwards.)
The first dream wasn't the worst. It was relatively normal. I was sitting in front of the fireplace, soaking my hands in butterbeer, and trying to convince Alice that Frank didn't steal her broom and put it under Hagrid's hut because otherwise she was going to get a dementor to come suck his soul (and, for the record, Alice doesn't even own a broom). That was relatively normal. I sit in front of the fireplace. I drink butterbeer- not necessarily soak my hands in it, though. And I have stupid arguments with Alice.
Nothing strange there.
But then James came and told Alice that he had found her broom and it was in his trunk because Sirius had put it there so that Frank would tango with the giant squid.
I don't know. It's Sirius. He makes even less sense in dreams.
Anyway, then James came over to me, put his hands in my butterbeer, and decided to soak them with me, like we were best mates or something! But the weirder part was I was just all, "Oh, hello James. I thought you'd like some butterbeer." And I nodded towards the couch for him to sit next to me.
What the hell is wrong with me, offering to share my butterbeer hand treatment with James like that?
In the second dream, Sirius, Frank, and Alice were all dancing around the Common Room wearing my school uniform- yes, even the blokes were in my skirt, but I was furious because their legs looked nicer in it than mine did- and singing the Chudley Cannons fight song. Or, my dream version of it. Whatever. That's what they were doing.
Anyway, James came out and he was dressed up like the Minister of Magic. He came over to me where I was watching the show, bowed, and kissed my hand.
Minister of Magic James kissed my hand! I laughed and told him that Sirius needed a wax and he said they were getting to it later and that I could help if I wanted.
At the time, when I woke up, I was more concerned with the fact that dream Lily had said it was alright to waxing Sirius's legs with James. Or just waxing his legs in general.
Because, erm, ew.
The third dream was by far the weirdest. I was walking around Hogsmade with Marlene and we were looking at socks because her sister (who doesn't exist) was having a baby and complaining that her socks weren't thick enough. Suddenly, out of no where, seriously, just popping up in the middle of the sidewalk, James appeared holding a huge bouquet of flowers and a top hat.
He grinned at me and threw the flowers to Marlene who caught them with ease, another weird thing since Marlene's hand eye coordination was pretty much nothing. "Those are for your brother," he said, "and the baby."
And even though he said brother and believed that the brother was pregnant, Marlene grinned and thanked James profusely before vanishing completely away.
So it was just James and I in the middle of the sidewalk. And he had a top hat.
I waved, completely not awkward and he put the hat on my head before snogging me until I woke up.
My point for all of that is that you're not supposed to have those types of dreams! Unless you're mad like Alice. Which we've already decided I'm not. If I'm mad at all, it's in my own little way.
But how can you break all of your own rules and suddenly fancy a bloke you were convinced you didn't? Just, try on my shoes for a moment, alright?
Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, love.
Seriously, what the hell?
And it's just getting more and more awkward.
I'm trying to act like I don't fancy the pants off of him, but that's hard because whenever we start arguing about something, I stop while he's saying something back at me, and just stare.
Again I say, awkward.
This one big lie to myself is throwing me off. I can't handle it.
"Are you even listening to me, Lily?" he asked, cutting me off from my inner monologue and staring at me like I was, you guessed it, completely mad.
"I-I'm sorry. What?" I stuttered, ignoring Alice's eye roll and Marlene's snigger.
"I asked if you were even listening to me," James repeated, a small smirk on his face. "Listen, Lily, I know it's hard to try and listen when my good looks are so obviously distracting, but if we're going to be working together this year you've got to make an honest effort at it. I have."
I laughed. He grinned. "Right. Sorry. You know how it is. Being completely absorbed in good looks." Shut up, mouth. Shut up, shut up, shut UP! "Couldn't help it. Sorry, sorry."
It was difficult. The majority of my mind was screaming Yell at him! Call him names! Hex him! Give him detention! Do something! While one very miniscule part was saying Nah, don't do that. After all, look how lovely he looks. And he isn't even doing anything annoying. And, oh yeah, you fancy him, remember?
See? Do you see how difficult it is for me?
Between bloody dreams, my rampaging mind, and having conversations with the bloke, there's no way I can't go mad.
If only life were actually like dreams and then I could just poof away at will. Or when someone gives me flowers for my nonexistent pregnant brother.
"Sweet Merlin, Evans, what are you thinking about that's distracting you from coming up with this prefect schedules?" James asked, once again disrupting me from my long, annoying, intruding, completely incomprehensible thoughts.
And, of course, seeing as my brain was so occupied with what it was doing, there was nothing there to control my bloody vortex of a mouth.
"Merlin, Lil, I was only kidding when I said that before," he responded with a grin, looking a bit smug if I do say so myself.
Before my hand, which thankfully sided with my brain but wasn't quick enough, made it up to my mouth to keep it from spitting out stupid, useless, and completely embarrassing information, I said, "I know but that doesn't mean it's not true. I mean… oh Merlin. That's not…"
I bet it was the whole planets aligning thing. Maybe somewhere in the universe there's a black hole that would suck me in and take me away from all of this insanity.
If only I were so lucky.
But like I said before, my bloody mouth was completely detached from my brain, so while I was wishing for a black hole, it was rambling on and on about how I didn't really hate him because he turned out rather nice for a mad bloke and how I was stupid and completely blind these past years, even though he was a raving lunatic.
However, sometimes I am glad that my brain and my mouth could be doing two different things at once, because in the midst of my "… so I don't really mean most of the stuff I say now…" apology, he tossed his quill behind him, expertly caught by Sirius, might I add, and lunged at me.
So my mouth shut up, but my brain kept going. Thankfully, fortunately, it wasn't rambling to me about how not viable it was for me to possibly be enjoying this when the ratio of hate to love was six to one, seeing as logically, hate should overpower love.
Of course not.
Not in my mad little mind where weird mate dancing, top hat wearing, and butterbeer soaking were what filled up my dreams.
Sure, I was still thoroughly confused, but I was completely happy with the fact that James had shut me up and kissed the life out of me. I didn't mind that one bit.
I just wish I knew how this happened.
It was either something scientific, like crazy planets or gaping black holes, or just plain fate.
Fate makes more sense than science any day.
A/n: Completely random, I know. But I was thinking about it, and can you even imagine how that must have been? I mean, I would have been pissed at myself for losing the game of proving I wasn't going to fall for this guy. Obviously that doesn't matter to her because she's like OhMyGodILoveJames and I'm sure if something like that happened to me, I would be, too, but from my point of view now, I can't even imagine that.
It's very rambly and doesn't make sense because I was rushing so that I could go to bed, but here it is. : I hope you liked it.
Much love and a top hat,