"Oh, this is a complete rubbish," - muttered a sixth-year Slytherin witch. She was very close to banging her head on the table, as a matter of fact. Huddled in a far corner of the Hogwarts library on a Saturday night, Marsha Hobbs, a Slytherin prefect, might as well allow herself a little break. The truth was, she couldn't. Ancient Runes exam was only a week away, and she still could not make sense of the key to the Wooldridge's translation of the Futhark runes. Why in the world did she continue with the blasted class? Marsha's interests never evolved around dusty, long-forgotten Etruscan manuscripts. Instead, her careful analytical mind was always drawn to numbers: number were transparent, they were precise, they made sense, AND they were very likely to land her a career with the Gringotts Bank.

Wizards, Marsha mused, had a very peculiar relationship with numbers. Magic required diligence and talent. Whatever Professor Flitwick might say about "a little push" and "anyone can learn how to master a spell," Marsha determined for herself that nothing could substitute talent. Take Sirius Black, for example. The Hogwarts heartbreaker spend too much time taking out fifth- and sixth-year Ravenclaws to "romantic" dates on top of the Astronomy Tower (as Alvin Kemp, her fellow Slytherin prefect, noted, "the bloody Gryff will soon run out of girls") and never seeing studying. Black also counted his third season on the Quidditch team and was a top student. Not that Marsha was jealous. Jealousy was a useless emotion that didn't pay. She simply mused. Had Black not had a natural knack for spells, he would not maintained his outgoing lifestyle and get top grades.

Arithmancy, Marsha continued musing, was a second-least favorite Hogwarts subject. It wasn't considered a most high-profile, nor did the Chocolate Frog Card collection boast anyone who's been known for being good with numbers. Nonetheless, Marsha would not have been a true daughter of the snake's house if she were not able to turn this to her advantage. Less interest meant less competition. Coupled with her natural knack for math, Marsha very soon identified opportunities in the magical community where she could apply her skills and not worry about going back to the Muggle world.

Runes, however, were an obstacle to graduating on top of the class. Runes were a many-faced monster. Runes were logical, but boring and pointless. And Runes was something she had to bear with.

Marsha sighed and looked around the library. The dimly lit north corner was almost uninhabited but for a few third year students perusing their way through what looked liked Transfiguration books.

And speaking of transfiguration. Marsha was surprised to register a black haired teen staring at her across the room. Once their eyes met, he winked and promptly got up from his chair boldly making his way towards her.

"Just the person I've been looking for," - said James Potter and unceremoniously landed on the chair next to her. She regarded him wearily. Potter (or "pot-head," as she mentally referred to him) was not a complete waste of space. The boy was talented and popular among the student body. She couldn't say the same sentiment spread on the Slytherin house that despised him for leading the Gryffindor Quidditch team to victory 2 years in a row. As a Quidditch commentator, Marsha had to assume an air of candor and not sound angry every bloody time the Lions scored.

A long pause ensued. James didn't seem bothered:

"I said you were the person I've been looking for,"- he repeated slower and leaned closer.

"I heard that," - replied Marsha unkindly.

"Well, aren't you curious as to what I have to say?" - he asked.

"What do you want James?" - she asked back. It was almost midnight and she was tired after spending her Saturday night on Runes.

"You mean what I want right this moment or in general?" - he asked cheerfully.

Then, sensing that his jokes won't work, he continued:

"Look, I was hoping you could help me with something."

Now that was a more familiar territory for Marsha. Underneath her cold demeanor, she was very curious to know why Potter wanted to speak to her. In addition to providing a much needed distraction from ancient scribbles, she didn't have much interaction with the Gryffindor house. Unless you counted Lily Evans. A fellow Muggle-born girl was funny, smart, and, most importantly, friendly with some of the Slytherins. She and Severus were an old curiosity the school gave up on trying to understand. Marsha and Lily became friendly three years ago and maintained regular tea-chats at the Tibby's Teashop every first Sunday of the month. Marsha liked their chats - they provided were different from the usual Slytherin dungeon gossip and warmed other non-Slytherin students toward Marsha in her capacity as a Quidditch commentator.

"I'm all ears, James," - Marsha smiled and loudly shut her Runes textbook. James winced.

"Look," - he continued hesitantly, - "I was wondering if you could talk to someone for me."

"Who?" - she asked, obviously perturbed. She couldn't think of anyone James Potter needed her help with. Unless…

"It's Snape," - he said.

Marsha thought she didn't hear it right:

"I'm sorry, Potter," - she said. - "You want me to speak to Severus? What on Earth about?"

James shifted in his chair and said nothing. He looked very uncomfortable. Interesting..., - thought Marsha, - Potter actually needs a favor. Oh, I'll make him pay for it. With an air of disinterest, she put her elbows on the table and cocked her eyebrow once more:

"So what do you need him for, hm?"

James looked at her somewhat sheepishly:

"I actually want you to make sure he doesn't go to Hogsmeade next Saturday." - he said and looked at her as though he were suddenly expecting to be shouted at.

Marsha looked at him dubiously:

"Excuse me? And what do I have to do with this?"

"Well...," - he began uneasily.

Marsha was surprised. James Potter was a poster boy for confidence who never, never betrayed a flicker of uncertainty. She interrupted him.

"Listen," - she said, - "if it's some hair brained idea to get Lily to go out with you then it won't work. Now, shush!" - she interrupted as James opened his mouth and was about to contradict her. - "Let me say something first."

Marsha leaned back in her chair and gave James a stern look.

"Potter, let me give you a piece of advice: first, don't think I'm stupid and won't see through your plans to get Lily; second, I don't want to be involved in any, and I repeat, any schemes you and your Maradeurs cook up, and third," - she paused dramatically. James held his breath. - "You are seventeen, for Merlin's sake. You are the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, top of the class and are rumored to be a Head Boy next year. So stop fooling around Lily and show her the man you are."

James kept staring at Marsha. He obviously didn't expect to be given a lecture, let alone from a Slytherin with whom he'd studied alongside for six year but never had a meaningful conversation. In fact, he was surprised she would listen to what he wanted to say in the first place. Even though James was a self-confident young fellow, he still could not bring himself to talk to the reserved Slytherin girl and had been sitting for about twenty minutes in the library before she noticed him. He knew she and Lily were friendly, of course, but he also knew who she was…

"Alright," - he said and got up from his seat. He still looked a bit bewildered. It was obvious that this was not how he had planned the conversation to flow and wasn't sure what to make of Marsha's speech as of yet.

"James…," - Marsha said.

"No no, you are right," - he said and ran his hand through his already messy hair. - "As a matter of fact, that's what Remus keeps telling me…But," - he sighed and looked around his shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping, - "I don't know if I can do it."

James himself wasn't sure why he was suddenly confiding in a near-stranger.

" You can," - said Marsha rather cheerfully. Obviously, the whole conversation amused her to no end, - "and I have an idea. As a favor to you, I might give a little push to Lilly."

" A what?" - he asked, confused.

"A push, Potter, a push." - she rolled her eyes. - "And don't ask me any more questions. I've got some Runes to attend to," - and she opened her book looking for the right page.

"Eh," - he said. - "Right… I'll better go then, I guess," - he hesitantly started making his way to the door.

"Run along then," - Marsha didn't look up from the book.

When she was sure he left, Marsha raised her head and stared at the chair James had just vacated. She couldn't think what possessed her to tell him all these things she'd said. What she did know, was that she could easily trick Lilly to go on a date with Potter. The girl was surprisingly blind when it came to romantic interests and they actually made quite a cute couple. Marsha dipped her quill and realized that Potter will owe her b-i-g.

END