"What are you doing?" His voice cracked as he watched her lean toward him.
"What, Potter?" A smirk caught her lips as she got even closer. "Gryffindor's chaser isn't used to being chased?"
°°°
Wisteria Rose Cresskle has always been a fan of games:...
/dēl/ noun 1. an agreement entered into by two or more parties for their mutual benefit, especially in a business or political context.
"It's a deal, Potter."
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~*~*~*~
To say James Fleamont Potter was persistent would be be the understatement of the century.
He wasn't persistent. He was incessant: continuing without interruption; unending; ceaseless.
Wisteria Rose chewed her food as she glared at the idiot currently standing on the Gryffindor table serenading her best friend into his wand. What a fantastic end to her first week of sixth year. Please note the sarcasm. With one eyebrow raised, she sucked on her teeth in annoyance. The boy had been crushing on Lily Evans since second year. Couldn't he take a hint that she wasn't interested?
The object of his affection was currently hiding her face in embarrassment. "Ugh! Tell me when it's over." Lily groaned while Marlene McKinnon, another sixth year Gryffindor, patted her shoulder comfortingly.
"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you." James swayed on the table, ignoring everyone else in the room except for his beloved. "But in your dreams whatever they be, Dream a little dream of me!" He finished with a dramatic slide on his knees, throwing food everywhere.
While Wisti was quick to block the flying mashed potatoes with the simplest of wandless magic that went unnoticed by her peers, Lily, Marlene and Dorcas Meadowes were not so lucky. "Ah!" Lily's normally beautiful copper hair had turned white and brown, gravy and potatoes dripping from the poor girl. "James Potter! You absolute toerag!" Without another word, the girl ran out with her two equally food covered friends. Well, Marlene appeared to be dragged out; Dorcas was pulling her down the aisle as she shouted profanities at the Gryffindor boy.
The entire hall had erupted in laughter as the girls fled. Wisteria, however stayed exactly where she was, still watching the boy with an unimpressed look across her face. If she hadn't been completely not in the mood for this, she would have found his newest attempt to woo Lily rather amusing. Once Lily was no longer in the Great Hall, James finally realized where he was and who he was actually in front of him. His face flushed. "What are you looking at, Cresskle?"
"James Fleamont Potter." The boy raised an eyebrow at her saying his name. And, though he'd never admit it, he'd always liked how her Irish accent made it sound. "Do you realize your name can create the words 'Lame', 'tampon', 'fetal', and 'Man Smear'? All of which I find to be both embarrassing and/or incredibly spot on." Well, that certainly didn't sound nice, no matter what accent it was said in.
"Prongs!" The other three Marauders arrived, saving James from searching for a comeback that didn't make him live up to the words his name produced. "That was bloody brilliant!" Sirius yelled, clapping his best friend on the back and helping him down.
