NEVER SAY NEVER ━━━ JAMES POTTER !
summary ━━━ chapter two: in which james takes your conversation in the corridor seriously.
pairing ━━━ james potter x reader (eventually)
content ━━━ no warnings, hogwarts!era, hogwarts rivals, fem!slytherin!reader, second person pov, 2.9k words.
✴︎ masterlist | ౨ৎ this is chapter two | ౨ৎ chapter three
Saturday arrives in a blur of long afternoons and even longer nights pouring over notes and previous lessons.
With your papers now complete and exam done, this potions assignment is the last thing standing in the way of you, and an entire weekend spent blissfully sleeping.
You’re pulling out your textbook when James comes strolling into the library.
The chair next to you scrapes against the floor as he pulls it out and you narrow your eyes as you look up at him.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
James smiles, completely unperturbed by your glare—a gesture you find quite insulting—and plops himself down into the chair.
“Working on an assignment with my potions partner.” He answers. “On the time and day we agreed.”
Your glare intensifies. “We didn’t-”
“Should’ve agreed.” He corrects himself while simultaneously speaking over you.
You have never met a person who makes you tick like James Potter.
Internally? It drives you mad.
You let out a slow breath through your nose, forcing yourself into a calm you don’t feel—and retrieve your quill and inkwell from your bag.
“I compiled a list of books we can borrow from the library for references.” It’s your way of letting him stay without actually saying it.
James looks pleasantly surprised at your words, raising his brows and tilting his head.
The thought floats into your brain before you can stop it, and your quill almost snaps at the sudden strength of your grip.
It’s the sleep deprivation.
“That’s very…proactive. You sure you belong with the snakes? Think ol’ Sorty should’ve put you in Ravenclaw instead.”
It’s a casual response, almost conversational—but you’re too busy staring at the red headed witch that just walked in.
So there’s the real reason he came to the library today.
Looking back at your potions partner, you gesture to your notebook. “You go look for the first five, I’ll go look for the second five.”
That way, when he inevitably gets distracted by Evans, you can at least occupy your time completing half of the assignment.
You duplicate the page, standing up and handing it to James, only to realize that he still hasn’t moved.
“Are you glued to your seat, Potter?” You raise a brow, barely able to contain the sarcasm in your voice.
“Please.” He says, smiling lightly, and you pause.
“You forgot to say ‘please.’” He clarifies.
You feel your eye twitch, and you take a step closer. “I’m sorry, am I understanding correctly—that you, James Potter, are trying to remind me of my manners?”
Oh, how you loathe the way he looks at you utterly unfazed.
“Forgot a ‘thank you’ as well.” He nods.
“You forgot to mention you were even going to be here today.” You shoot back, glaring.
“You asked me to be here, though.” He retorts, pausing to lift a finger. “Without a ‘please’ or a ‘thank you’ that time either, might I add.”
Yes, you have never met a person who makes you tick like James Potter, indeed.
“Go and get the first five books.” You say, smiling sarcastically. “Please and thank you.”
Instead of moving, he tilts his head—an amused smile playing on his lips. “Not quite what I was going for, but that’s a good start.”
Finally, he stands up—his surprisingly warm fingers brushing against your own as he grabs the duplicated list out of your hands.
Gripping your notebook, you nod and disappear into the stacks without another word; ignoring the way your heartbeat is just a little too fast for normal.
It’s the sleep deprivation.
It doesn’t take you long to gather the books, and when you return to the table—you’re surprised to find James right behind you.
Your eyes cut to Evans, who’s sitting across the room; and you swear you catch a flash of her green gaze darting away from your direction.
You have no doubt it’s because the boy next to you has yet to acknowledge her even once since she’s walked in—and it’s been over five minutes.
And when the boy next to you is James Potter and she’s Lily Evans?
You’re confused too; but you’re also too tired to really care. Whatever gets you to your bed fastest.
James puts down his pile of books first as you near the table, before grabbing your own and doing the same.
You furrow your brows in confusion at the helpful action.
He says nothing, wordlessly pulling out your chair before taking his own seat.
You stare at him, expression blank as you slowly follow suit. “What are you doing?”
Much to your annoyance, he just tilts his head and smiles lazily. “We goin’ over this again, love?”
Your eyes narrow. “Don’t play daft, Potter. You know what I’m talking about.”
He holds his hands up surrenderingly, still smiling. “Alright, don’t hex me.” He laughs.
You don’t laugh with him.
Letting out a soft sigh, James leans back in his chair and shrugs, stretching out his long legs beneath the table. “S’just basic manners, innit?”
You’re not falling for his sudden air of nonchalance by any means—but you also don’t quite care enough to press it right now.
Not when your bed is calling to you like a siren, and you can practically taste your next sleep.
Looking down at the worksheet from Slughorn and then your list, you grab the first book in your pile and begin flipping through the pages.
“I already noted which title answers which question on the worksheet. Now all we need to do is find the correct pages.” You explain.
James blinks at you in bewilderment. “How did you already know that?”
In truth, you’d simply gone up to Slughorn and asked him which titles he recommended using to complete the worksheet.
He’d laughed, enjoying the duality of both the simplicity and creativity it took to simply approach the professor and ask for the answers.
And then he’d proceeded to give you exactly that—under the one condition that you told no one.
So you just shrug at James’ question. “Read all these books before and the question topics were familiar.” You dismiss.
Is it a form of favoritism? Perhaps.
Do you care? Not when it benefits you.
James might think that you belong in Ravenclaw, but you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.
You can feel that he doesn’t quite believe your excuse, but he also doesn’t push it.
And as you two begin to complete the worksheet—you find yourselves working surprisingly well together.
The assignment is done far sooner than you’d expected, and before you can even put your quill down; James is clearing the table and placing all the books on the re-shelving cart.
He takes it a step further by rolling up the parchment, capping your inkwell, and then grabbing your book bag and holding it open for you to put everything inside the way you prefer.
Wordlessly, you do it, not interested in dissecting why you’re letting this happen at the moment.
It’s the sleep deprivation.
He looks like he’s about to say something, but then his eyes dart behind you and fix there.
“Managed to lose Snivellus in the stacks, did you, Lily-pad?” He smirks.
And there it is. He finally acknowledges her.
The universe is restored. The wizarding world is saved. Hooray.
You can see other students peeking up from their books now, staring at the scene before them—and internally, you sigh, because truthfully?
You’re not the least bit surprised.
Leave it to James Potter’s jealous ego to start up a confrontation in the library.
But when his question is only met with silence for a moment, you turn around to see Evans glaring.
After a moment of hesitation, she lets out a breath and straightens her shoulders. “Snape may have his faults, but there’s no need to resort to petty name calling.”
You feel James stiffen from behind you, and even you are surprised at the witch’s words.
Everyone knows of the infamous day Severus Snape and Lily Evans stopped being friends. The red head had—notably—become more open to James’ advances after that incident as well.
Although, you suppose a few days of forced partnership between former best friends would be a way to mend a broken friendship.
Or at least start to, anyway.
“Are you defending him right now?” James asks, and there’s something in his voice that wasn’t there before.
A mixture of anger, disbelief…and hurt.
Lily’s expression falters, and she looks like she’s about to say something, lips parting.
You don’t stick around to hear it though, simply turning around and retrieving your book bag as you slip past James’ still frozen form—missing the way his eyes follow you, even if his body doesn't.
You hate the way you feel bad for him in this moment—especially because he’d just finished insulting a fellow Slytherin.
It’s the sleep deprivation.
Personal preference aside, it’s in poor taste to sympathize with a person who openly dislikes your house.
And you have both no desire to be a part of that drama, and finally—the time to catch up on all your lost sleep.
With that in mind, you’re out of the library in two blinks.
You let out a yawn just as you’re nearing the dungeons.
“Oh, look at you, dear! You appear in dire need of a nap, darling.” Lady Aveline’s voice rings out, and you turn your head to see the worried portrait frowning.
“Indeed, Lady Aveline.” You murmur, pausing to make conversation.
You are oddly endeared to the portraits.
“Sorted it out with that Potter boy, then?” Sir Reginald walks into Aveline’s frame, peering at you curiously from over her shoulder.
Before you can respond, Lady Aveline tuts in amusement. “So nosy.” She teases.
“Sir Reginald the Watchful for a reason, Linny.” He sing-songs, and she rolls her eyes.
“What’s that saying about curiosity killing the cat?” She raises a brow, letting the question hang in the air for a beat before looking at you again.
“Did you though?” She asks, now both her and Reginald awaiting your answer.
You barely refrain from rolling your own eyes. “If you must know-”
Before you can continue, Barnaby the Bard stutters to life from his painted sleep; looking around wildly.
True to his name; Barnaby speaks (sings) only in rhyme—and promptly returns to sleep after relaying his message.
You watch as Reginald and Aveline furrow their brows in confusion, the knight scratching his head.
In typical James Potter fashion—your potions partner suddenly comes sprinting through the corridor.
“There you are!” He says, voice echoing off the walls as he slows to a halt in front of you.
Furrowing his brows, James tilts his head. “Who were you talking to?”
You mirror his confused expression, turning to look at the portraits—only to see Aveline frozen over one of her vials, totally not staring, and Reginald standing perfectly still behind her.
As if his entire frame isn’t very noticeably missing its portrait.
As if the alchemical study in hers is a perfectly normal place for a medieval knight to be.
This time, you do roll your eyes at the little traitors, and turn to James.
“Nothing. Why are you here?” You ask rather bluntly, the exhaustion you’d previously managed to push away flooding back into your body like it’d never left.
He adjusts his glasses, blinking at you. “…I was gonna walk you back to your common room. Why’d you leave so fast?”
You raise a brow. “Didn’t feel like watching your lover’s spat with Evans.”
“It wasn’t-” James stops short, clenching his jaw for a moment before letting out a breath through his nose.
“We were just having a conversation.” He corrects himself, all traces of defensiveness gone now.
You continue to stare at him. “Sure. A conversation I didn’t want to be a part of.”
“It’s impolite to leave without saying goodbye, you know.” He says, ignoring you.
“Sticking with the manners bit, then, Potter?” You ask sarcastically, letting out a long, drawn-out sigh as you resume walking.
James keeps pace beside you easily, face fully angled toward your own as he replies. “As long as you need ‘em, love.”
You hate the way you fall silent at his words, caught off guard by his response.
It’s the sleep deprivation.
Regardless, you don’t sit in shock for long, changing the subject swiftly.
“Why are you walking me back to the dungeons, Potter? The assignment is done.”
Annoyingly, he goes back to feigning an air of nonchalance as he shrugs. “It’s just the mannerly thing to do, innit? Walking a witch back to her common room.”
Finally, you’ve had enough—stopping entirely and turning to face him head on as you glare.
It’s so reminiscent of the last time you two spoke, and you almost have to wonder if there’s something about this area of the castle.
“What is it with you and manners today, Potter?” You question him.
He gives you a lopsided smile, shrugging again. “Maybe I’m just a gentleman, and you’re only realizing that now. I told you I know how to treat a girl right.”
His confidence—or rather, what you like to consider cockiness with a side of character flaw—is truly astounding.
You can’t help but snort, the notion so absurd it’s laughable.
“You are the least gentlemanly wizard I know, Potter. Second only to Sirius Black—your best friend, so not really saying much there, is it?” You say dryly.
James furrows his brows, frustration evident in his eyes.
“I showed up on time, pulled out your chair, put away the books, packed up your supplies, and walked you back to your common room.” He lists.
And there goes that defensiveness again.
“You showed up to a work session I very clearly uninvited you from last time we spoke—and now you basically admit that you only showed up to try and prove a point from said last time.” You quickly retort. “My apologies if I struggle to see anything gentlemanly in that.”
You pivot on your heel and resume walking, sure you’ve finally gotten him to back off.
But that lasts all of ten seconds before James is right back at your side.
You can’t even say you’re that surprised, and that’s the most maddening part.
You remain silent, no words left to give.
The simple statement almost makes you stop, but you ignore it.
Looking at him through the corner of your eye as you continue walking, he lets out a long sigh.
You intend to keep ignoring him, you do—but then his expression opens, his eyes soften—and the way he starts carrying himself actually makes you take a pause.
“I shouldn’t have assumed you were asking me on a date. My brain was all scrambled and I panicked-” he cuts himself off, shaking his head as his shoulders deflate.
“And it doesn’t really matter, because they’re just excuses.” He grimaces, like the admission is painful.
“Point is, I was an arse and I’m sorry. And if you’re willing, I’d really like the chance to start over again.” He looks you in the eyes the entire time—which you can admit, earns him a bit more respect from you.
After a moment of processing—to which James stares at you the entire time with pleading, borderline puppy eyes; you let out a quiet breath.
You like to think you’re a relatively logical person, and your logic tells you now, that whether you choose to forgive James or not—you’re stuck with him.
The only thing you get to decide—is whether you hate this partnership, or hate it a little less.
“…Apology accepted.” You finally say, and he perks up instantly, smiling.
You quickly hold up a hand, not done. “But,” he tenses, “only because it’s less about our previous miscommunication—now, anyway, and more about how you handled today.”
He furrows his brows, and you continue.
“Yes, you showed up on time. And pulled out my chair, put away the books, packed up my supplies and walked me to the dungeons.” You repeat his list of ‘gentlemanly’ actions. “You did everything right, and yet nothing James Potter would do.”
Letting out a long sigh, you shake your head. “And I can’t believe I’m saying this—but I’d rather you just be you, Potter, and not the gentleman you think you need to be in order to prove your point to me.”
He blinks, tilting his head. “You…want me to be myself?”
You nod, brows furrowing. “Yes.”
It’s the sleep deprivation.
He continues to stare at you.
Your eyes narrow. “Don’t make me take it back already, Potter.”
James quickly goes mute after that, but as you near the entrance—you don’t miss the small smile playing on his lips.
“So I’ll see you in class, then?” He tilts his head as you both come to a stop in front of the wall.
You nod again. “You’ll see me in class.”
He laughs at the way you choose to repeat him, eyes crinkling as he shakes his head in amusement.
Letting out a yawn, you turn around to at long last—catch up on some much needed sleep.
“Enjoy the rest of your weekend, yeah? And give that brain of yours a rest.” He calls out.
You wave your hand lazily as you continue walking. “You too, Potter.”
And for the first time this week—as you step into the Slytherin common room, faint glow of the Black Lake glittering on your skin; you’re not entirely filled with irritation when you think about James Potter.
Yeah, definitely the sleep deprivation.
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note ━━━ this chapter may have just been me projecting my sleep deprivation problems lol 🌚 hope you angels enjoy!
