James was... annoying, to say the least.

He was always pulling on your hair and whispering in your ears and begging you to go out with him or go see him play Quidditch.

Finally, after months of his bullshit flowers and poems and chocolates- you were a Jellybean person- you agreed.

You two were going to the Yule Ball, Hogwarts' annual Christmas formal.

You had gone out with a group of "friends." These girls were really just tagging along because they wanted to know what it felt like to be the object of the Quidditch Prodigy's affections.

You had picked out something relatively simple- a silk slip-style dress with spaghetti straps. You paired it with heels and a cream, cotton shawl that James thought made you look like a goddess.

He had agreed to meet you on the staircase, and he walked you to the dance.

All throughout, he kept whispering little, sweet things into your ears.

Being a Pureblood, James was quite a profficent dancer.

He was spinning you around and dipping you like mad, and soon enough you were giggling like he hadn't had to beg for your attention.

James, who was enjoying himself just as much, if not more, shot a look at his best mate, Sirius.

Sirius had gone to the ball with a girl named Sylvie Leblanc. She was a pretty French Pureblood with dark, coffee-coloured skin, obsidian eyes, a curvy figure as well as an attitude, and a reputation for witty comebacks and genius in potions.

She was quite the catch, and Sirius smiled back at James as he playfully pinched Sylvie's ass.

The dark-skinned witch produced an indignant noise and swatted his shoulder.

James was glad his mate was having fun, but you snapping in his face with a haughty look on your face at being ignored while in his arms in the middle of the dancefloor.

Well, I'm fucked, James thought as he caught the fire in your eyes. The beast'll have my head for this one.