Title: Malum Tractanda
Author: bitcheslovefoldedsocks
Warnings: Some cursing.
Ship: JPLE
Summary: Sirius pull a prank. James Potter suffers the consequences of being pranked.
When James woke up that morning, all he saw was red.
"Ack!" he shouted, pulling a pair of red boxers that was on his face off. "Sirius, you pouf!" He heard a delighted bark of laughter coming from the next four-poster over, and threw the offending piece of pants at his mate, hearing the satisfying thud of it reaching its target. "Ha!"
Taking his time, he showered and dressed, leisurely walking to the Great Hall, even using the pesky moving stair cases instead of the shortcut everyone knew about. He was in a good mood and had been for the past month or so ever since he started dating Lily Evans, and so, predictably, his annoyingly happy grin was plastered onto his face the whole journey down to the Great Hall yet again.
He entered the hall, one hand in his hair, both of his eyes searching for his girlfriend.
She was not there.
He looked harder, squinting a little, and checked his glasses to see if, somehow, the lenses magically popped out or something.
No such luck.
He found Remus and Peter down at the far end of the Gryffindor table, and so he sat with them, not wanting to draw attention to himself and the fact that he was so horribly confused as to why his girlfriend was not there. That would be pathetic, he figured, and James Potter was certainly not pathetic. At all. Nope, never.
"All right?" he greeted his friends.
"All right," they responded, Peter with his mouth still half-full of his breakfast, Remus with his eyes on the Daily Prophet.
James filled his plate with food and, as nonchalant as he could, asked, "Have you seen Lily this morning?"
They both told him no.
"Okay," he replied, trying to sound off-hand, masking his disappointment. Peter shrugged and told Remus that dirty joke about the muggle, the wizard, the elephants, and the Refilling Spell which caused Remus to laugh and snort on his pumpkin juice.
It would be funny if he weren't so preoccupied with trying not to look preoccupied, James reckoned. He forced out a laugh and ate his toast, forgetting about the perfectly good eggs that remained upon his platter, leaving the Hall mere minutes after he arrived.
1234
"Wotcher, Sirius," he acknowledged his mate, moving to sit beside him in front of the fireplace.
"Prongs."
"Want to play a game of Exploding Snap?" James asked, for want of trying to rid his mind of his currently missing girlfriend. He didn't want to resort to the Map yet. Caring too much and being clingy like that was pathetic, he knew. And James Potter was not pathetic. Nope, never, zip, nadda, no.
"You're on," was the answer.
Throughout the game, the two friends talked mindlessly, first about classes ("I could've done the essay on Animagi in my sleep"), then the good-looking birds ("Greta Catchglove, eh? She's certainly gotten easier on the eyes within the term, no?"), and finally, of course—"What do you think about Lily?"
"What do you mean, Prongs—SNAP!" He quickly tapped the card with his wand. "One to zero!"
"Damn—do you like her, I mean? You never talk to her—ah, that really burns, damn it!"
Sirius chuckled, but his face became somber when he answered James. "I don't know," he replied, looking relatively expressionless. "She's okay, I guess. A bit swotty, though."
"I want you guys to be mates," he blurted out.
"What?"
"I take it back!" James said swiftly.
"You can't take something like that back! None of us has ever wanted their bleedin' birds to become mates with us! You can't just take it back!"
Sirius fixed a humourless look on his mate. "I just want you to be on friendly terms with each other is all," James defended. "S'not a big deal."
Sirius looked like he wanted to rebuke James, but he only sighed, laying down another card as James did. "I only think—SNAP! Is this out of five?"
James cursed, pulling at his singed shirt hem, and inquired, "What were you saying? Before the part about the 'out of five' thing?"
"Nothing…it's just…I just don't think you should get so attached to that bird."
"Why?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, Prongs."
"Tell me."
"You don't want to know."
"Oh, I do. Trust me."
"Fine," he looked vaguely uncomfortable, but his lips were twitching slightly upward. "It's because she's in a broom closet shagging some guy."
"You're right," he croaked, "I did not want to know that."
"Or," he said, trying to make James feel better, even though his tone was a bit off, "she might only be snogging!"
James shook his head in disbelief. "She's not, liar! Prove it!" He puffed out his chest importantly. "You can't prank me, Sirius!"
"The Map," Sirius said simply, "and no, this is not a prank, you prat." He shrugged and handed the Map over, a smirk fighting its way onto his face, but James hardly had the time to question his friend because his bleeding girlfriend was apparently snogging the life out of someone who was most certainly not her boyfriend.
Hands shaking, he muttered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," and tapped his wand against the parchment hurriedly, pacing the length of the Common Room multiple times.
At first, his eyes scanned the Map hungrily, searching for the unmistakable "L. Evans" to come into his line of view on the parchment, and then, suddenly, he saw it cramped near a "C. Anderson" on the fifth floor in one of its many broom cupboards.
Angrily, James ran a hand through his hair, wishing that the name was an illusion, a fake, some clever trick Sirius made up and that he would suddenly turn to him and laugh, "Fooled you, again, Prongs! Honestly, you're so gullible," because really, why did Lily have to go and do this now? Wasn't she happy enough, he thought, to at least not cheat on him? Couldn't she at least have had the courtesy to not go off with the next strapping young man she sees?
Honestly, the night before they were laughing! They shared a seat on the chair in front of the fire, doing those sickeningly in love things that only people who were in love found, well, not sickening. She couldn't have given up that fast!
James was dumbstruck.
She gave up that fast. He blinked. No, no, no, no, this was not supposed to happen, he thought. Lily Evans couldn't give up on him, he'd just gotten her to date him. It didn't work that way! They were supposed to fall in love, get married, have cute Evans-Potter kiddies wreaking havoc and reading the textbooks ahead of time! Anything but he going off to snog someone!
"Padfoot?" he said, his tone of voice betraying his cool expression, "Who is that bloke?" while pointed an accusing finger at said person.
Once again, his friend shrugged. "Colin's the name, I think, but I'm not positive. Ravenclaw. Sixth year. Has glasses."
James wrinkled his nose in disgust and said, under his breath, "A Sixth Year? A Ravenclaw?" before running out through the Portrait Hole and into the corridor.
"Fifth floor, fifth floor," he reminded himself after a very nearly fatal mistake ("Lily? I know you're in there!" "Oh God, get out, you freak!" "SORRY! Sorry, MacDonald!"), and quickly made his way to the fifth floor landing.
He jogged whilst concentrating most of his attention on the Map with his ever-changing location. Once he realised he had reached the cupboard, he stood there for a moment, mentally preparing himself.
Breathe. In, out, in, out, he thought, trying (and failing) to gather the courage to open the door. Merlin, she's in there, snogging someone, his brain told him, panicking.
She's snogging someone in there. What do I do?
Deciding to take the safe route (Fucking hell, what if they were doing more than snogging?), he knocked on the door loudly and said, "Lily, I know you're in there," with as much malice as he could muster, which was, apparently, very little.
He heard a shrill, "James is it?" and some shushing, but he figures "it" would mean Lily's boyfriend, because what else could Lily being doing in there with a Sixth Year Ravenclaw boy (whose voice was, admittedly, rather high) except something that was entirely…intimate. There was no other answer! It was a broom cupboard, for Merlin's sake, not a table in the library!
After a few minutes passed, James figured that they must at least be decent by now, because he gave them a whole bloody three minutes, and they couldn't possibly be that far into a state of undress that it took longer than that, right? Right?
Oh hell, his mind was going to explode if he kept thinking like that.
"Erm, I'm coming in now?" he announced, more asking than telling.
No reply.
Shit, shit, buggering hell, he thought.
And then, he reached for the doorknob.
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"James, shut up!" was hissed at him as he was pulled into the cupboard.
"Lily, we're gonn' get caught!" was said in alarm. You ruddy just did, he almost exclaimed.
Confused, James hastily took in his surroundings. Lily was pressed up against one of the walls that didn't have shelves nailed into it, and her red hair was splayed in front of her face, her eyes fiercely concentrated into a death glare at James. The second occupant of the closet, however, was not Ravenclaw. Nor a Sixth Year. Nor even a boy. In fact, the petite girl was a Hufflepuff Second Year, and, most importantly, was not snogging his girlfriend. Oh, thank Merlin.
"What?" he asked stupidly before being shushed rather violently.
"Be quiet," Lily reprimanded. "We're in a game of Hide-n-Seek, you muppet."
"But the map…" he trailed off, bemused. "You were in here with a bloke! 'C. Anderson' or something like that! A Ravenclaw Sixth Year…with glasses!"
Now it was Lily's turn to be puzzled. "What are you on about? There are no Ravenclaws with the last name Anderson, let alone a Sixth Year I'm in this closet with—" she shook her head as if James was completely foolish, practically saying, "What a daft excuse for a Gryffindor," her eyes momentarily forgetting to glare at him "—this is Cassidy Anderson. As you can see, she is a Hufflepuff Second Year. Berk," she muttered the last part derisively, chuckling to herself.
"Erm, well…" James scratched his head, unsure of what to say. "I suppose I'm sufficiently proved wrong, then."
"Yes, you could suppose that. But what I'm thinking, James, is why, perchance, you thought I was in a broom closet with some boy and how you found me, hmm? That's what I'm interested in, James, dear." Her expression took on a tone of sarcasm. "I wonder how you could've possibly had the idea that I was cheating on you after a month of dating you, yes? Well I just would love to know—"
"Lily," he begged, looking at the slightly frightened Second Year hiding behind a pile of old rags.
"No, James," –she mimicked the same breathless voice—"I think we should really talk about this now, don't you?"
"Not particularly, really, no."
"Well I, for one, do."
"Lily, this really isn't the time—"
"I'd have to disagree, James, because this seems like the perfect time—"
James, guessing that there was no way to end their argument other than a highly painful fight for both participants, pulled out the one wild card he assumed Lily didn't know he had: "Sirius told me."
Lily stopped mid-rant and spluttered, "W—what?"
"He must've passed the, um, the closet when you went in and assumed—"
"Oh shut up, that's obviously a lie." She looked hurt. "How else would he have known who was in here by name?"
"I'll," James sighed, looking at their third wheel, "tell you later. Once we get out of this cupboard."
"This more important than an 'I'll tell you later but actually I won't, bye' thing, James." She checked her watch, courtesy of her parents for her wizarding coming-of-age. "We have time until dinner," she decided, talking mostly to herself, "so I figure we can escape the cupboard without being caught if we run about," she pressed her ear against the door, "—no footsteps—about now." And, quite spectacularly, she grabbed his hand, gave Cassidy a hurried "bye!", and opened the door, shutting it just as quickly, and dragged James down the corridor for a full minute before turning right, and opened another door to an empty, abandoned Transfiguration classroom. She shoved him towards the ground, a bit more aggressive than what was considered normal.
"Lily," he started.
"Explain," she demanded, sitting on the ground, looking up at his astounded face.
"Well, sure, okay," he replied, putting a hand in his hair. He launched into a dramatic story of his day: "So, this morning I went down to breakfast in the Great Hall, and you weren't there, so I was a bit curious, but I didn't question it because everyone misses breakfast now and then." She gave him an encouraging nod. "Then, I kind of just hung around in the Common Room for the day, and then lunchtime rolls around, and you still aren't there—" ("I was with the younger years!") "—shh, well I thought you weren't there, and so after lunch I asked Sirius, 'Mate, do you know where Lily is?' and he checks this—" James pulled out the map. "Which something all four of us—Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I, that is—made. It can show you everyone in the school and where they are. We call it the Marauders Map. It's kind of top-secret. I only got permission because they figured I was in deep shit with you when we saw you on it with what Sirius told me was some bloke, which was what we figured actually happened." He looked sheepish, but Lily hardly had the time to show her amazement towards the Map, because James quickly murmured, "Mischief managed," and put the Map in his back pocket. "I saw with the guy Sirius told me was a Sixth Year bloke—I'm going to kill him, by the way; he's probably laughing his arse off right now—and what did you think I would think? It was a ruddy broom closet, come on." He looked at her, and she laughed a little. "Well, yeah, that's basically all," he ended awkwardly, thrusting a hand into his messy mop for the umpteenth time that day,
Lily stood up, leaned against one of the many tables, and let out a low whistle. "That's quite a tale you've got there, James. And that map. . ." She shook her head. "But I digress because, James, you're quite daft. I mean, I thought my mates were daft, but you—well—you are, quite possibly, the most daft person I've ever had the misfortune, or fortune, depending on my mood, of meeting. But—" she laughed, eyes crinkling in something that looked like joy, "—for all your faults, you're pretty sweet, so I suppose I can forgive you for your daftness."
She glanced at him, idly playing with her hair. "I wouldn't cheat on you, James, honestly. If I got of bored of you (which you better hope won't happen), I'd break up with you. (After all, you're hardly worth keeping a secret from, anyway.)"
He lightly punched her arm and asked, his eyes wide as saucers, "Forgiven?"
"With those eyes? Of course. No lady can resist." She rolled her eyes, and he enveloped her in a bear hug.
"Sorry," he whispered into her ears, but before she could respond, he twirled her around in the air and fell to the floor, Lily landing atop him.
"You're heavy," he grumbled.
"Should I be offended?" she giggled. "You're a Quidditch Captain, after all. You should be able to lift several hundred pounds at a time, yeah?"
"Oy, shut it," he said, but he was laughing too.
They lay, their heads on the floor, limbs entangled with other limbs, giggling and cackling and snorting, their breaths relaxed in time with each other's, a mixed cacophony of rising and falling chests and inhaling and exhaling filling the silent classroom.
Without warning: "Mister Potter…Miss Evans…what the devil are you doing?" Professor McGonagall's harsh voice rang out as the door creaked open. Both students sprang up from the ground, Lily hastily pulling her skirt that had, embarrassingly, ridden up quite high during the day, and James merely grinning.
"Nothing, Professor," they responded.
She only gave them one disapproving look before exiting the classroom with a small smile, leaving the two to laugh and giggle and snort and fall in love once more.
James knew falling in love was considered sickening, for pansies, for saps, and utterly pathetic, but he thought it was rather enjoyable. No, James Potter was not pathetic, never, nope, zippo, nadda, but he did have his moments, and really, they weren't that pathetic after all, if he thought about it.
a/n: Thank you! While this being my first story on this account, but not my first posted ffnet story, so I'm pretty familiar with the process of this. So please review. Reviews are good smelling things, like chocolate and strawberry shampoo.
By the way, if I have some Americanisms, point them out. I'm all for constructive crit.
P.S. The title is latin, not gibberish! (Because that's what all the fanfic titles are, amirite, amirite?)
Edited slightly: 7/3/12