I Was Made For Loving You - James Potter

04: handshakes

Potions. Where it all began. James was right about it being on his timetable more than anything, and it drove her mad. Elodie hated potions, it's bored the life out of her. "I told you we should've bunked. But no, under the wise words of Elodie Westwood: 'We'll get detention, James.'" James groaned, resting his head on the desk.

She resisted the urge to touch his curls.

They had been fake dating for a month, people becoming accustomed to seeing them together more often than not. Hell, Elodie even had one of his Quidditch shirts.

"At least it's only an hour, I mean we're already.. 10 minutes in. God, I'm going to off myself!" She cried, joining his head on the desk. It's not even like they were doing anything fun, they were listening to Slughorn drone on about Felix Felices. With any luck, she'd get through the lesson without putting her wand to her head and casting an Unforgivable.

Elodie's hand rested on her chin, acting as a pillow as James fidgeted with one of the rings on his fingers. When it fell on the floor, she shot up at the clanging. "Sorry, go back to enjoying the lesson." His stool squeaked as he pushed it out to grab his ring, sliding it back on his finger. She watched as he twisted it.

"I like that one." She tapped the one on his middle finger, it was a simple ring, with a vine running through it and the initials J.F.P engraved into the leaves. Her face reflected into stainless steel as she messed with it.

To an outsider, Elodie was holding James' hand and looking incredibly invested in the rings that littered across his fingers. To an outsider, James was looking at her with adoration and amusement as his girlfriend showed such interest in how he presented himself.

To every 5th year girl, aside from probably three, it'd be a position they wished they were in instead of Elodie.

"What does the F stand for?" She asked, and if James wasn't listening for it he wouldn't have heard. "Fleamont." He responded. "James Fleamont Potter. After my father."

"Elodie Theta Westwood. After my grandmother." She smiled, looking up at him. "Have you ever considered painting your nails?" James laughed, looking away.

"The answers no."

"Oh, James please. Think of the publicity if anything. 'My nails? Oh, my beautiful, amazing girlfriend Elodie painted them - she wanted to match.' Come on, please?" She begged, dropping their hands under the desk and twisting her body to fully face him.

"What would convince you?" She was not letting this go. One way or another, James Potter was painting his nails. He remained silent for a second, before smirking.

"I will let you paint my nails, if... You come meet my parents for Christmas." Okay, James - fair played, fair played. Was it really worth it though? Meeting her fake boyfriend's parents? Why would he even care about that?

"Why do you want me to meet your parents?" She asked. He just shrugged. "Those are my terms, Westwood. No parents, no deal." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. Christmas break was only a couple days away, so she'd have to owl her parents as soon as she got back up to her dorm if she was going to agree.

Still, James was agreeing to paint his nails for this, so all in all it was a pretty fair trade. She shook his hand slowly, a smile sneaking onto her face. "You can't take it off either, you gotta wait for it to chip off."

"And you've got to stay the whole time."

"Deal, Potter."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Stop moving! You'll mess it up!"

"It's already messed up, that is the wonkiest heart I've ever seen."