Rainy Days [James Potter]

Chapter 30

"Oi! Kitten! What d'you want?" James asked, letting Robin lead him through the castle. Their hands were entwined, sending small shocks of electricity up his arm, but her back was turned, so he couldn't see the slight tinge in her cheeks he knew was there.

"I didn't say I wanted anything," Robin replied, feigning a calm reaction to his nickname. It almost seemed comical at this point, because the sides of her mouth were twitching downwards and her eyes were locked ahead of her in determination.

"But you do," He insisted, causing the girl to sigh. Her shoulders slumped.

"I know it seems hard to believe, but I don't always want something from you." she pointed to the portrait leading into the Gryffindor common room, "However, right now, I do."

James shook his head in quiet hilarity, but he couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips.

"You want me to let you into our dorm." he asked, an eyebrow cocked in amusement. She nodded vigorously, her royal blue eyes widened.

"Please? " she begged, "I promise I won't cause too much trouble."

"One one condition."

"Yeah?"

"Take me with you." James grinned mischievously.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

*

Robin picked up a small box off the desk in the boys room. It was polished and plain, except for the handmade carvings on the side of it.

To my best mate, from the greatest person alive.

Robin giggled to herself, and James walked over to her, placing a hand around her waist. To her delight, he was oblivious to her tinted cheeks and her widened eyes.

She ran her thumb over the smooth surface of the box and opened it gently, a smile creeping onto her face. In the box was a small, golden sphere with miniature wings on either side.

"That's so sweet," she said, taking out the contents of the box and placing it into her hand, where she grasped it slightly, careful to not let it get away.

"Yeah. It was the first snitch I ever caught," Robin heard James say into her ear from hehind her, a hint of pride in his voice as he took the object from her. Robin bit her lip.

"I thought you were a chaser," she noted, tilting her head back slightly so that James' face was a few centimetres away from hers. She was nothing if not a tease.

"I am," he said, ignoring her need for attention. "But I still have cought a snitch."

Robin pulled herself away from him, shaking her head and walking across the room. "Well there goes the sentimental value."

She stepped across the room and over to Sirius' bed. "Do you trust me?" she turned back to James.

"Should I?"

"You don't want to know." she spun around on her heel and took out her wand. She muttered a few things under her breath, then, for a few fearful seconds, nothing happened. Suddenly, Sirius' bed basically exploded. The inside of the mattress came out and the pillow pooped, blowing feathers everywhere. Then, only a deafening silence.

"Is this seriously all you came here for?" James laughed heartily.

"Not all." she stepped over to James' dresser and took out a sweater. "This too."

"Hey-- that's my jumper-- Kitten, where the bloody hell are you going with that?" he yelled at her as she ran out of the room.

*

Robin was curled up by the fire in Slytherin Common room in her new stolen sweater, reading a book. She felt comfortable, for once, despite the fact that she was wearing a Gryffindor sweater and everyone was glaring daggers at her. That's just how confidence works: unpredictable and comes in random surges.

She stayed there, basking in the warmth of the fire, for hours, before finally finishing her book. She slammed it shut and, mouth agape, threw it across the room.

"Aggressive, much?" James stood in the doorway, staring at her.

"Creepy, much?" She countered, not in the mood for banter with him. He laughed melodically. "How did you get in?"

"I have my ways." He grinned. "On a completely different subject, tell the prefects to change the password. It's too easy to guess." Robin giggled and suddenly looked around the room. It was empty, no doubt due to the late hour.

"What d'you want?" She asked, picking up her book from the other side of the room. "I bet you didn't break into the common room just for the friendly people."

"I wanted to take you to the Astronomy Tower. Talk about how that plan of yours worked out? Besides, it's Christmas Eve. We should be together."

She tapped her chin gently. "I suppose." She shrugged, picking herself of the loveseat and following James. He tentatively put a hand on the small of her back, a gesture which she was thankful for, but still felt forced.

"So, how did my plan work out?" she asked, as they climbed the steps to get to the astronomy tower. He grinned mischievously in response, and she knew things had worked out as she had wanted.

"Sirius obviously noticed that his bed was blown up." He stated obviously, "And, since he couldn't sleep in it, Remus offered to share his."

She almost jumped with joy. How long would it take the two to get together? She had already been humiliated after losing her bet to James. At least the two had now shared a bed. That was a start.

"Go on," She gestured, desperate to see how this ended.

"When I left the room, the two were all cute and snuggled up. They pretended not to notice me so that Sirius didn't have to move into my bed."

They arrived in the Astronomy Tower, breathless, and sat down. James had already set down a blanket and some food-- marshmallows, crisps, sour candies-- you name it, it was there. It was accompanied by a bottle of champagne, something she had not yet tried, despite it being somewhat of a teen rite of passage. The whole room was illuminated by candles, giving the place an uncanny resemblance to every cheesy first date ever. Her heart almost melted at the sight. She had always been a sicker for a clichée.

"This is beautiful." she gushed, jumping into the pile of multicoloured pillows set out for comfort. He chuckled discreetly, which was an action that didn't seem very James-like.

Was he nervous?

He took a seat next to her, casually draping his arm around her shoulder. He poured out two glasses of champagne, opening the bottle with no difficulty, and offered one to her. She took a hesitant sip, letting the bubbled dance on her tongue. It was unpleasantly bitter, but there was an undertone of sweetness--not unlike herself.

"To a Merry Christmas."

"And a happy New Year."