uptown girl

02

HOGWARTS - 1976

James Potter could hardly believe his ears. "She got Head Girl? How? She barely utters a word!" he exclaimed incredulously as he made his way to the Gryffindor common room with his friends. His face was a mix of confusion and frustration, eyebrows knitted together, his voice carrying more than a hint of disbelief. Remus Lupin, ever the voice of reason among the Marauders, shot James a scornful look and shook his head. "She talks, James," he countered calmly. "You just don't pay attention to anyone but yourself."

James frowned, pocketing his hands as he stopped abruptly in the corridor, his confusion only deepening. "I do too!" he insisted defensively, his tone rising slightly as if volume alone could make his argument more convincing. His stance was rigid, and his hazel eyes darted between his friends, searching for some kind of agreement or understanding. Sirius Black chuckled loudly and adjusted his slightly askew dress robes. "No, no, it's him and his 'Lily Flower' that he pays attention to," Sirius joked, his voice dripping with amusement. His remark elicited a hearty laugh from Peter, who clapped James on the back in agreement.

James scowled at their teasing, his expression darkening as he resumed walking up the long, winding staircase that led to Gryffindor Tower. His mind wandered back to Emmeline Lawrence, the girl who had surprised them all by walking into the classroom that morning with the shiny red Head Girl badge pinned proudly to her robes.

He had been certain that Lily Evans would have been chosen for Head Girl. Lily was everything Hogwarts admired: top of her class, fiercely intelligent, kind-hearted, and beloved by nearly everyone. She was popular, involved in every aspect of school life, and a natural leader. James couldn't wrap his head around why someone as quiet and seemingly introverted as Emmeline had been chosen instead. What did she have that Lily didn't?

~

That weekend, as James lounged in the Gryffindor common room, he couldn't shake his thoughts of Emmeline Lawrence. The room was alive with the familiar buzz of chatter and laughter, students clustered in groups discussing the latest Quidditch match or the mountain of homework assigned by Professor McGonagall. The fire crackled warmly in the hearth, casting a golden glow over the ancient stone walls and the plush, threadbare armchairs. James sat slouched in one of them next to Kingsley Shacklebolt, half-listening to the conversation around him. Despite the noise and bustle, his attention was drawn to the solitary figure seated on a couch near the window.

Emmeline was deeply engrossed in a book, its thick, aged pages catching the firelight. Her expression was focused, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration. She seemed completely oblivious to the commotion around her, lost in her own world. James found himself fascinated by her demeanor. There was a quiet confidence about her, a stillness that was almost magnetic. Unlike the boisterous energy that James and his friends often exuded, Emmeline's presence was subtle yet commanding in its own way.

With Remus studying in the library, Sirius off on another romantic escapade, and Peter having dashed to Hogsmeade for a candy run, James found himself at a loose end. Restless and driven by a curiosity he couldn't quite explain, he decided to approach her. "Lawrence, right?" he asked, injecting a playful lilt into his voice as he crossed the room, his footsteps muffled by the thick, crimson carpet. He stood before her, his tall frame casting a shadow over her book, his grin broad and mischievous.

Emmeline slowly lifted her gaze, her large, expressive brown eyes meeting his with an intriguing blend of surprise and subtle annoyance. Although James had seen her countless times before, this was the first time he truly observed her, and the effect was striking. Up close, the delicate intricacies that distinguished her from others became apparent: her long, curly hair, meticulously braided and cascading down her back in graceful waves; and the profound depth within her eyes, a wellspring of intelligence and introspection that drew him in. The freckles that adorned her dark skin were faint and almost ethereal, their presence a gentle whisper of charm that added a singular beauty to her features. In that instant, James was struck by a revelation—Emmeline was a tapestry of complexities and subtleties far richer than he had ever imagined.