Thoughts of Class

Thoughts of Class

"Preceding the Russian revolution, there was much argument between the wizard Rasputin and the muggle tsar, Nicholas. Nicholas' youngest daughter, Anastasia, was a muggle-born witch and the only magical member of the Russian Royal family to ever be noted, and her survival leads us to believe that she was quite magically advanced for her age, as she was able to survive the Avada Kedavra curse..."

I love his hair.

Aaagh, no, don't think that! Messy horrible, soft...

He just ran his fingers through his hair. I want to ruffle his hair. I want him to ruffle my hair.

No I do. Don't! No I don't!

This is so not good. I don't even like him. Not really. He's arrogant and a show-off and--

He's looking at me. He's smiling at me.

He's really handsome when he smiles. He doesn't look as if he's about to pull a prank at any second. So friendly, so open...

...so beautiful. She's so attractive. What if I smile at her...Christ, she smiled back!

What do I do? What do I do!

Hey, where are my legs going? Lily's desk? No, BAD, my legs are attached to my body for god's sake.

'Oh, hi Lily. Yeah, I jut wanted to say, um...'

Work, brain, work.

What's he doing? Oh, god, is this a trick? Is my hair about to turn green or something?

I love her hair. 'It's red.' Shit! Did I just say that out loud? She's fiddling with her hair...

...I can't help it. It's still its normal colour. Red. Just like he said. God, I feel so self-conscious.

What the heck is going on?

What am I doing? Making a fool of myself, that's what. Remus is giving me a funny look. I must look like...Jesus, where's your best friend when you need him? He's always late for History of Magic on Mondays...git.

'Sorry,' I say, 'I just wondered if I could borrow some parchment?'

That sounded casual. Right? She nods amiably and hands me a roll from her bag. I really try to ignore how cute it is when her hair falls over her face when she bends down, I REALLY do. I take the parchment, thanking her, wondering at how warm and soft this parchment is...wait...

...our hands are touching. Funny, I expected his to be coarser than this, but they're quite soft...not that I ever think about his hands. Much.

'Thanks very much.' Her fingers linger on mine. She doesn't seem embarrassed. Maybe she likes it. I like it; it feels natural, nice even...

...even though it's wrong. Horribly wrong. I shouldn't feel this way, not about him, not about--

"Sirius?"

Who just said my name? Did she?

"Hey, Padfoot!"

It's James.

It's James. Yeah, remember James? Your boyfriend?? The best friend of the boy whose fingers you're fondling???

I turn and walk hurriedly over to James, waving the parchment as an excuse. I try and forget about the gorgeous girl who I'm developing feelings for. She's not available. Unfortunately, that means she's not avoidable. And she's so adorable.

I'm stunned. And I've got a crush. On the wrong bloody guy. Think James Potter. Think how wonderful James is...try not to think about Sirius Black.

Much.