A/N: This story was written as an entry for The Houses Competition, Year 3, Round 6.

House: Gryffindor

Year: 5 (Head Girl standing in)

Category: Standard

Prompts: 7. [Action] Sneaking out of the house

Word count: 1480 words (written on Google docs)

Betas: Thank you to Shiba (Shibalyfe) for beta'ing and constant support! Xx

Additional A/N: It's now about 3.30am, so it's even more incredible if you understand this story better than the other :') There's probably a lot of errors or nonsense, but to be perfectly honest, I can't blame that entirely on the time haha. Thankfully, I had my wonderful Prefect helping this story make sense, and this idea was floating around my head as a possible idea for my own standard story; getting to use it, no matter how mushy or basic it is, is, therefore, a nice feeling. I hope you like this story; I'm not really that into next-gen characters, or their ages (Lorcan and Lysander may even be younger), but I can see James as being a bit of a bugger.

I hope you enjoyed this nonetheless. Have a nice week!

Because She Cares

Pale moonlight shone through the window, spreading across his brother's face. James held his breath as the boy stirred, cursing himself for not closing the curtains properly. If Albus woke up now, all his plans would be ruined.

Thankfully, Albus soon rolled over, mumbling away about Time-Turners. James breathed out and continued tip-toeing from the room, avoiding the floorboards that he'd learnt squeaked the most.

His pulse raced as he shrugged on his backpack and headed down one lot of stairs. When his parents had first dumped them at his grandparents' place for the summer, he'd been annoyed that all his free time would be taken up by helping his grandmother cook or his grandfather tinker with boring old Muggle items. It hadn't been until the Scamander twins had Owled him earlier to say that they, too, were staying at their grandfather's place down the road that he'd seen a shred of hope. Together, the three boys had planned to explore the forest behind the Lovegood's house in search of werewolves or trolls, or better still, a creature no one had discovered yet.

SQUEAK.

James closed his eyes as he realised he'd forgotten one particularly squeaky stair. In the silence surrounding The Burrow, it seemed to be ten times louder. Slowly, he turned and craned his neck upwards, waiting for the inevitable flicker of lights turning on or the sound of doors opening.

Only the sound of his grandfather snoring could be heard, though, and for the second time that night, James sighed in relief. He had to keep going; Lorcan and Lysander would probably go beast hunting without him if he didn't hurry.

He waited another moment just to make sure his siblings and grandparents were still asleep before turning around.

"Merlin's beard!" James nearly leapt out of his skin.

There, standing on the bottom of the staircase in her nightgown, was his grandmother. She had her hands on her hips, and James knew even before she opened her mouth that he was in trouble.

"And where do you think you're going at this time of night?" she asked, her eyes roaming from his sneakers to his backpack.

James opened and closed his mouth, but no excuses came to mind. All he could do was stutter beneath her fierce glared. "You—h-how did you—but you were asleep!"

The tiniest hint of a smile twitched on her lips and her blue eyes sparkled just a little. "I'm a mother to six—to five boys and one girl. Nothing gets past me in this house."

The sparkle was soon gone as she pointed a finger back upstairs. "Off to bed with you this instant."

"But—"

"One... two…"

He didn't stay to argue, and trudged back upstairs before she hit 'three.' His plans may have been ruined, but he didn't want to find out what his grandmother would do if he didn't obey.

This time, James knew he couldn't be caught. He'd had to wait until three in the morning, but the Scamander twins had promised him they didn't mind waiting. After all, the creatures they were after were probably more likely to be out late at night.

As he stepped off the last stair, he breathed out a sigh of relief and lit his wand. He'd managed to avoid all squeaks and creaks, and his grandmother was nowhere in sight. Even so, he decided to not risk going through the front door and headed to the kitchen, from where he could make his final escape via the back door.

"Evening, James. Biscuit?"

James' heart leapt into his throat as the kitchen flooded with light. There, sitting at the table with a glass of cold milk and a plate of biscuits, was his grandmother.

"N-no thank you," he said, his throat suddenly dry.

She gave him a small smile. "Are you sure? You'll need the energy for tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow morning?"

"Oh yes, when you'll be helping me de-gnome the garden."

James sighed and turned around to head back upstairs. "Night, Grandma."

"Goodnight, James," she said, and he could almost hear the amusement in her voice.

James' heart raced as he slowly lowered his foot onto the ledge outside the attic window, followed by his other foot. His palms were sweaty, and as he gripped the drainpipe running down the wall, he worried he would slip. Mustering up all the Gryffindor courage within him, he made himself shimmy down the pipe and forget about his earlier plan of using one of his Uncle Charlie's old brooms instead.

When his feet hit the ground, he sighed and took a look around. Bright, silver moonlight illuminated the lawn. Deciding not to waste time, James crept around the side of the house and past the brick pig pen. His heart skipped a beat every time something made a noise, whether it was him treading on a twig or an owl hooting as it swooped by. He eventually made it down the dirt driveway, though, and he started to relax.

Lorcan and Lysander had told him they'd meet him at the gate, and as he approached, he could see one of their outlines waiting for him. He'd done it; he had finally managed to sneak out!

"Oi, Scamander, you might want to hide before my grandmother—oh for Merlin's sake, this is bull—"

"Watch your language, young man," his grandmother said, stepping away from the gate.

She looked fairly tired, but James didn't care for that at the moment. How could she possibly have found him now?

"Why won't you just let me go out?" he yelled, throwing his backpack to the ground.

Rather than yelling back, his grandmother rubbed her temple. "One day, you'll understand. Now, back to bed with you."

James kicked the ground and stormed back to the house.

"Good morning!"

James glared into his porridge as his Uncle George came into the room. "What's good about it?"

It was bad enough that his grandmother had stopped him from sneaking out, but discovering that his uncle hadn't brought his favourite cousin, Fred, to visit with him made it even worse.

George clapped him on the shoulder as he sat down at the table. "Why the long face?"

Rolling his eyes, he turned his glare to his grandmother, who was bustling about at the stove. "Why is she so strict? She could cut me some slack; midnight adventures are hardly a stretch from anything you lot go up to. Doesn't she care?"

James had heard of the many times in which his uncles had gotten the wrong end of his grandmother's wooden spoon because of their mischief. He waited for his uncle to give him some advice as to how to get around her.

To his surprise, however, the man raised an eyebrow. "Looks like she cares to me," he said, summoning over a cup of coffee.

James stared at him incredulously, but as George nodded at the stove again, he looked back over. His grandmother still looked tired, the bags underneath her eyes larger than they had been the previous night. A smile lit up her face as she got everyone's breakfast, however, and she even made sure to cut Lily's toast into the triangles she liked.

"Look, mate, I know it's tough—believe me, I do—but she does it out of love. I'm sure she just wants to make sure she doesn't lose another family member, you know?"

He felt his cheeks burn as he watched his grandmother work. He hadn't really thought about why she was so intent on keeping him in, or the stress it must've caused her.

James held his breath as the light drew closer. He was sure that she'd discover him at any moment and made sure to hide in the shadows as much as possible.

He could hear his grandmother sigh as she entered the kitchen, and soon, the room flooded with light.

"James, how many times must we go through this—what?"

"Biscuit?" James grinned and held out the tray of cookies he'd helped Lily bake that afternoon. Admittedly, they were slightly burnt and certainly not as good as his grandmother's, but they were all he had.

"What's going on?" she asked, taking a seat at the table.

He gave her a small smile and poured her a glass of milk. "I just wanted to tell you that I won't try sneaking out anymore."

His grandmother raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

He didn't blame her for probably thinking it was some trick of his to gain her confidence, but this time, he was telling the truth.

"I've realised my adventures can wait, especially when all I need is right here," he said.

Her eyes were a little watery as she pulled him in for a hug. When she pulled back, she wiped them and said, "Now, how about those biscuits?"

James smiled as she held one out to him. "Thanks, Grandma."