poetry ; james potter

- 08

Isla had met up with Alexander that afternoon, and borrowed his book.

The Ravenclaw had given her some insights about the story that she is about to read, and she gave him her thanks before returning to her dorm to relax her free period away, and maybe start reading the book.

And also to ready the school books that she'd be using on the next subjects after her free period.

Although, that was her main plan. What she did was otherwise. Isla sat on the soft yellow duvet of her four poster bed, in the empty girls dormitory. In her hands were the poems that contains so much hidden meaning,

Isla wonders that moment if James Potter was really telling the truth. Or was he just playing with her? But it couldn't be...

After all, everything seems to connect like dots in her mind. Green eyes.... and ladylike features. It seems all familiar.

While Isla likes to think the poems were talking about her, it was actually talking about another lady. Lily Evans.

Isla knows Potter was lovesick, but not this lovesick. She likes it though. His persistence.

His desperation. Although Lily seems to be annoyed by the attention James was showering her, Isla wonders...

Wouldn't it be nice to have someone pursue you in such romantic ways? Especially from a young charming man as James Potter?

Certainly is. That would be a dream come true.

But this was spoken from a hopeless romantic herself. Isla was no realist. She lives on movie dates, hand in hand walks, kisses in the rain and chasing each other on the snow. She lives on fantasy, fiction and most important... true love.

She lives for handwritten poems and composed sweet songs, the morning peppered with kisses and the evening's word of goodnights. She lives for them.

But as Isla sat back on the headboard of her bed, she contemplated...

Would James Potter and Lily Evans really work?

And did James really went his way to write these poems?

Itched with desire to satisfy her curiosity, Isla stood up her bed and throw on her robe. She trudges down the staircase and exited the portrait hall out the Hufflepuff common room.

It took sometime of searching but she finally found James. In a place she expected him to be, but was still caught off guard with her guess.

Isla saw him sat with one leg on the sill and the other hanging down, the window was close though.

He was sat on where she expected him to be. Because when she turned on the corner, she spotted James sitting by the same window sill she had found those two poems in, on the second floor corridor.

Shock was written all over her face when she saw that he was scrawling something on a piece of paper, glasses askew, and he keeps on threading his fingers through his hair.

Frustration, she first notice on his face.

She was stuck frozen in place. This part of the corridor wasn't busy as such time in the afternoon especially when lunch time is soon to be starting.

But slowly, she approached him with cautious steps. And when she was finally beside him, James notices her presence and looks up.

He was surprise to say the least, as he blinks at her. Isla blinks back,

"Oh, uhm... Hi." James scratched the back of his neck awkwardly,

"Hi." she replied back with a small smile as she went and sat on the window frame across him.