Jily one shots

Oy, dormitory

Disclaimer: written by Callisto Nicol

A/N I am shook that America doesn't have MOTHER FUCKING CHICKEN SALT LIKE WTF DO YOU PUT ON YOUR CHIPS?! ANSJDJSJKSKDKDK

James Potter stared at his ceiling, completely befuddled by his missing shirts. He'd asked the House Elves if they'd accidentally misplaced them, he'd ransacked the Seventh Year Gryffindor boys dormitory just in case Sirius or Peter actually did steal them, he'd checked his own Head Boy dorm, and even interrogated the Slytherins. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. The missing clothes were nowhere to be found.

And it was incredibly frustrating.

Clothes didn't just disappear! Especially not four pristinely ironed and starched white shirts meant to be the upper half of his Hogwarts uniform. They didn't have a brain of their own to tell them where to hide, they didn't have legs to walk away with, and they didn't have a wand with which to Disapparate. You can't Disapparate in Hogwarts! Lily's voice rang in his head. He grinned. He couldn't escape Miss Evans' corrections even in his own head. Not like that bothered him. He would listen to her any time. Hmm, he wondered if he could get her voice to say his name. James Potter. No-that was Sirius' voice. Curse that Padfoot! Try again. James Potter. Nope-Mum's. At least it was female. James Potter.

"James Potter!"

Hey, he was getting pretty good at this. What else could he make her voice say?

"JAMES POTTER, ARE YOU COMING OR NOT?" Lily shouted on the other side of his door. He leapt off his bed and ran a hand through his hair before scurrying to open the door and meet his beloved.

"Come where, Evans? Finally agree to a midnight snog?" He mentally cringed. Why couldn't something, oh, say, intelligent come out of his mouth in her presence? Such as, Evans, come where? or You look lovely today, Lily. May I help you with something? or even just Yes?

"Two problems with that, Potter: It's not midnight and Hell hasn't frozen over yet. I was referring to the Prefect meeting you scheduled right now."

Oh. Well, at least he got to walk with the lovely redhead, which was in and of itself an improvement in their relationship. At the beginning of the term she made sure to leave long before him-consequently he missed the first few meetings, but hey, he figured he was doing pretty good considering he'd never been a Prefect. It was hard suddenly adding responsibilities to his life. He still wondered if Dumbledore was off his rocker, making him Head Boy. That would be like announcing that Snivellus was the Heir of Gryffindor. Hagrid would sooner eat a dragon than any of that happening. And yet...he was Head Boy.

But he did get a personal dormitory shared with Lily, theoretically the perfect setting to get her to fall in love with him. Hmm...Maybe Dumbledore knew what he was doing after all...

Maybe the dormitory ate his shirts! It was entirely possible. The fake wall on the third floor in the southwest corner ate Sirius' bag back in Second Year, proving the stone walls of Hogwarts could be hostile. And further proof for building hostility was all the fake stairs! Peter stepped in a new one practically every week!

Well, of all the inconsiderate-James took a deep breath. He'd have to have a talking to with his dormitory.

"Are you feeling okay, Potter?" Lily asked, giving him an odd look. James opted on a smooth and suave reply.

"Huh?"

Well, it came out smooth...ish...

"I asked if you're feeling okay. You haven't said anything since we left your room, and for you, that's quite a feat."

"Just thinking."

She gave him a weird look. "That's new."

"Yes, yes it is. Er, I mean-aw, sod it. We're here." He opened the door to the room the prefect meeting was being held in and half shoved her in. One day he would make his tongue say something intelligent! (Hopefully tomorrow...)