The Marauders: Year Four

Happy Birthday, Potter

Happy Birthday, Potter

Maryrose's hair was deep violet and she'd changed her eyes to match. She laughed as she led James through corridors, holding his hand with hooked knuckles rather than intertwined fingers. They were down by the library in the far end of the castle from the Great Hall, where most everyone else was at dinner. The corridors down this end of the castle were dark, already thought to be empty for the night, and James's wand was illuminated and he held it high for them both to see by. They reached the corner of the corridor and she backed against the wall rather than turning and whispered, "Turn off your wand, Potter."

"Nox," he said and he pocketed the wand quickly, leaning so one of his palms were splayed against the wall, the other still hooked 'round her hand. "When is your birthday, Maryrose?" he asked lowly.

"In June," she answered.

"So I'm older than you," he said.

"Yes, you are," she said.

"I'm dating a younger woman," he laughed.

"Cradle-robbing, practically."

He kissed her nose.

Maryrose giggled.

James moved their hands so they were pressing them against one another, palm-to-palm. Her fingers were almost as tall as his was - she had rather large hands. He wasn't sure why this sort of disappointed him that their hands didn't fit together quite like he'd wanted them to, but he twisted his palm away and went back to their hooked-knuckle hand holding.

"Do you like the lavender hair?" she asked.

"I like all your hairs," he said. She changed it frequently.

"What's your favorite color?"

"Red," he answered without really thinking about it.

"Like Gryffindor red or like... Lily Evans's ginger?" Maryrose questioned.

James swallowed back the burn of blush that was threatening to run up his neck to his face and he shook his head.

Maryrose laughed, "Can't decide?" Maryrose screwed up her face and turned her hair Gryffindor red, the color melting from her hairline, and with it came gold eyes the color of a slightly tarnished Gryffindor crest, "Here's the Gryffindor," she murmured, and then - before James could stop her - Maryrose crunched her nose up once more and her hair turned exactly the color of Lily Evans's, her eyes green - though not quite the right shade...

James stared at her and for a moment he forgot himself and he leaned forward and kissed her, pressing her against the wall with his torso, tilting his head to get good access to her mouth, his hand running up to her hair, fingers moving through the ginger locks... She hadn't expected such an impassioned reaction to the shade, but it was clear that James Potter was into gingers and Maryrose went with it. She ran her hands over his arms and up the back of his neck into that messy mop of hair on his head that every girl in the school wanted so desperately to touch. James Potter's hair was a celebrity all it's own about Hogwarts, always looking as though he'd just stepped off the Quidditch pitch, whether he had or not.

After a few minutes, James came up for air, his eyes closed... He couldn't open them yet. Not yet. He'd had this moment, while their lips were locked and he'd been moving his mouth against hers, that he'd realized that with his eyes only part-way opened in the dark, all he could see was the ginger hair... and he'd caught himself imagining... for just a moment... pretending... He felt guilty for it. What sort of horrible person tells a girl to change the color of her hair to look like another girl and then kisses her, imagining it to be that other girl? It was as though he were cheating on her... in a weird way... and he felt horrible. But for those moments he'd been pretending... Merlin.