Chapter Two: Introducing Punch and Judy

It was a welcome surprise for Angie Potter when she was greeted at nine thirty in the morning by a knock on the door from Reverend Macdonald.

It was not such a welcome surprise for James Potter when he was woken at nine thirty-four in the morning by Mary Macdonald and Dorcas Meadowes.

(Nine Twenty-Six in the Morning)

"I don't see why we're giving her cake," muttered Mary Macdonald darkly.

"Because she did us a favour, now stop complaining," replied her father, smiling as he scolded.

Though father and daughter, Mary and Walter Macdonald could not have differed more in their dispositions. Mary was the sort who muttered darkly. Walter was the sort of never did anything darkly. It was almost as if Walter Macdonald were composed entirely of lightness, and though this lightness was generally helpful to his position as vicar, he had held said position so long that nobody could tell you if his lightness was a direct result of being a vicar or if his being a vicar was a direct result of his lightness. Such a mystery was important because it left speculation regarding the source of Walter's only daughter Mary's rather more negative attitude.

"We paid her," reasoned Mary. "It wasn't a favour, it was a job."

Reverend Macdonald chose to ignore this particular dark muttering and instead knocked on the door of the woman who had incited such bickering between them.

"Morning, Vicar," greeted Angie Potter, still in her nightgown. "What can I do for you?"

Mary nodded glumly at the cake in her hands. Perhaps the glummest anyone had ever looked whilst being in such close proximity to a cake.

"Oh, that's not for me is it?" cried Angie, smiling widely at the sight of the cake.

Angie Potter was always one to smile at cake. Not that she was incredibly large, but she was stout at the very least. Perhaps her unnatural shortness did not help her in looking skinny. In her youth she might've tried a bit harder to moderate her weight but she was a rather old woman and had practically stopped caring about her appearance. This was evident in the shocking length of her thinning grey hair, which fell all the way down to her hips.

Once Reverend Macdonald had confirmed that the cake was indeed for her, Angie was quick to invite both Macdonalds in for a cup of tea.

Walter nodded down at the aging woman as he passed her, entering her little cottage.

Mary, however, was not able to nod down as she herself was practically the same tiny height.

"Thanks again for letting us use your copier," said Walter.

"Oh, it's not trouble at all."

Just as Angie took the lead and guided her guests towards her kitchen, there was a cry from the outside.

"Mare!"

Mary alone heard this, due to a combination of youthful ears and an inclination towards recognising her own name (or nickname in this case). She turned to see why on earth she was being called at all.

Stopping before she closed the front door behind her, she poked her head around to see the running figure of Dorcas Meadowes.

"Mare!" she cried, practically lunging herself at the door and almost knocking Mary to the ground.

After stopping to catch her breath for a total of four seconds, Dorcas spoke again, "I thought I saw you come in here. I was just across the green with Janine and Polly and I said to them, I said 'Oi, that's Mary.' But then I saw you and your dad come in and so I had to run before you vanished."

"Cas, slow down. I don't have a clue what you're on about."

Dorcas sighed and pushed her matted blonde fringe out of her eyes. "Listen, Mary. I really really need you to do me a favour."

(Nine Thirty-Four in the Morning)

"Absolutely not!"

With a hefty groan, James Potter awoke. He was not particularly happy about being woken by a shrill, unidentified cry.

After yawning and stretching his arms, James propped himself on his elbows and allowed the sunlight to burn his eyes.

"I said no!" came the same voice that had woken him.

Never one to pass up on prying, James followed the voice out of his bedroom and to the staircase. Leaning over the rail he saw two teenage girls.

"No, Mare, listen it's really important!" cried the leggy one who had an abundance of wavy blonde hair and a butterfly clip.

"Well, why can't it wait?" asked the other who was substantially shorter and had brown hair of an unidentifiable length due to it's being stuffed away in a bun.

He thought he recognised the two of them, but was far too groggy to remember where from.

It appeared that the girls were bickering and they continued to do so, unaware of his presence.

"Okay so you know how last night Colin and I snuck onto the Prewett farm?"

"No, I didn't know that."

Dorcas appeared not to have heard this.

"Well, we sort of ended up behind the chicken coops," a faint blush blossomed in her cheeks. "Anyway, he told me that he really really liked me and I said that if he tried hard enough I could like him back."

"Cas, I really don't wanna hear it."

"So then he told me that he thought I was a real stunner. Way better looking than Maureen Baddock which I thought was such a lovely thing to say because, well you've seen Maureen! Not to mention she's got huge boobs. So that sort of got to me and so I let him kiss me."

"Cas, please stop the story," she said.

"We were fooling around for a few minutes, right? It was really nice and everything but then he went and whipped it out! I mean, you don't just whip it out! You've got to wait for the girl to do it. I didn't know what to do, Mare," Dorcas giggled. "So I just laughed, right? Then he got all embarrassed and said we should probably go. I felt really bad after that but I didn't know what to say to make it better so I just told him that he better put it away first."

"Cas!" cried Mary. "I don't wanna be rude but please shut up."

"Don't you want to hear the penis story?"

"Not even slightly."

Dorcas' eyes widened as she whined, "Why not?"

"Because I don't want to hear stories about my brother's penis."

"Yeah, but it's Colin," said Dorcas, as though this changed matters.

"Yeah, but he's still my brother."

"Yeah, but it's Colin so it's not weird."

"It is weird! And anyway what's this got to do with me covering you at the jumble sale?"

"Well, that's the thing isn't it?" she said, with an extravagant sigh. "He hasn't spoken to me since. So I need to go and talk to him."

Mary crossed her arms impatiently and said, "It doesn't start 'til eleven. Why can't you talk to him now?"

"He's playing football and besides, I might want more than three hours with him..." Dorcas trailed off suggestively causing Mary to wince. "So," Dorcas continued with a pleading smile, "will you cover for me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not spending the day selling broken toys and old textbooks just so you can cop off with my brother."

"That's very selfish of you," said Dorcas sulkily.

Mary rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then, noticing something she had not realised was there, she started.

"Uh, Cas," she said, warningly.

"No it is selfish!" cried Dorcas, not paying attention to anything other than propagating her twisted reasoning.

"Cas."

"Because, right," she explained, "If things go well with me and Colin then that makes two people happy."

"Cas."

"You see? If you just sacrifice a little bit of time then you could make two people you love happy."

"Cas!"

"Fine, don't help," she huffed. "But might I point out that it's terribly unchristian of you."

"Cas, could you please stop dribbling on about your rubbish for one second."

Dorcas' mouth hung open slightly, evidently rather offended.

"There appears to be somebody eavesdropping," said Mary.

Dorcas followed Mary's eyeline and found herself staring at a smirking teenage boy.

"Hello," he croaked sleepily.

"Hello," replied the two girls uncertainly.

"Listen," he said. "I don't wanna be rude or anything, but what on earth are you doing here?"

"We could ask the same of you," Mary retorted.

"Not really. I live here," he informed them.

The girls looked at each other, dumbstruck.

"Did Angie get herself a toy boy?" Dorcas asked of Mary.

"No she didn't," answered the teenage boy.

Another shifty glance was shared before Dorcas decided it was better to direct all curiosities to the curious boy himself.

"Excuse me," began Dorcas, "But would you mind telling us who you are?"

"Not at all. I'm James Potter."

"Right, okay, but that doesn't really help," said Mary.

He chuckled.

"I'm Angie's nephew," he elaborated.

"Come for a visit?"

"Yeah, " he said, nodding. "Just a short visit. Two years at the most."

"Two years?" Dorcas echoed.

"I'm staying with her for my A-Levels."

"Oh," said Dorcas.

"Why?" Mary inquired.

"Because my parents have buggered off."

"Where to?"

"To heaven," he said solemnly. "They died."

Dorcas clutched her chest and mouthed the words, "Oh my God."

James cracked a grin before quickly correcting himself, "Just kidding. They went to France, which I reckon might be worse than dying anyway."

"You are seriously disturbed," snapped Mary.

"Quite possibly," he replied.

Both girls still remained thoroughly confused, however they did not get the chance to ask more of the mysterious and nonsensical James Potter as Angie and Walter had just reappeared from the kitchen.

"Dorcas!" cried Reverend Macdonald with a smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Did you need to use my copier for your newsletter again?" asked Angie.

"Oh, no! Nothing like that. I just really needed to ask a huge favour of your lovely daughter," she announced, nodding towards Mary.

"Don't you dare," said Mary through gritted teeth.

Dorcas swatted away Mary's mutterings and beamed up at the vicar.

"What was it you needed my daughter to do?" he asked kindly.

"Well, I feel awful about it, but I really can't help out at the jumble sale today."

"Oh, no," he said.

"I know! It's terrible. But the thing is, I'm taking English Language in September and I really wanted to get a good idea of the curriculum before I start. And, well, your son actually said I could look over the coursework he did last year."

"Did he now?" he asked, beaming at this. He always did light up even more than usual at the mention of his family. "Which son is this?"

"Well, the one who did English Language last year."

"Derek?" he guessed.

"Colin."

"Ah, of course," he said, before turning to Angie and saying, "I lose track of what child does what if I'm honest."

"Yeah, well, he said that he could help me today and obviously the first thing I said was that I was very sorry but I'd made a commitment and I should respect that," said Dorcas so sincerely that even Mary would have believed it had she not known the truth. "But Colin said that he's not going to have a lot of free time so it's now or never really. He was really keen to help."

"Colin is very helpful."

"He is," she agreed.

"Alright then, Dorcas," he smiled. "I'm sure Mary could take your place."

"No I can't!" cried Mary.

"Oh, Mary. Of course you can."

"No," she said stubbornly. "I have other plans."

He furrowed his eyebrows in what was possibly his imitation of a frown.

"What are you doing?" he inquired.

"I'm... having tea... with Polly's family. They asked me weeks ago. It'd be rude to not go now."

"Ah," he sighed. "Well that leaves us in rather a pickle doesn't it?"

"I'm sure James could go," Angie offered.

"Your nephew?" asked Mary.

"That's the one. You've met him have you?"

"Yeah, he was on the stairs," she trailed off as she noticed the staircase was completely vacant of human life. "Oh, he must've left."

The minute the vicar had re-entered the hallway, James had been out of there quicker than a flash. It wasn't that he had an issue with the Church as a whole, he just had a small issue with the way that they were constantly trying to get people to help society.

This did not sit well with James' desire to do whatever he wanted at all times, most of which benefited him alone.

Charity was not high up in his list of priorities.

"James," his aunt called softly from the other side of his door.

"Come in," he replied.

She opened the door a crack and peeped through to see her nephew lying on the bed, reading the kind of magazine that a vicar should not, under any circumstances, see.

"Put that away, the vicar's coming up," she said.

He groaned. "Why?"

"Because pictures of naked women aren't very Christian now are they?"

"No," he pressed, ignoring her comment regarding his magazine. "I mean why is the vicar coming up?"

"Because he wants you to lend him a hand at the jumble sale today."

James did not make any movement other than to turn the page of his magazine.

"James," she prompted.

"Why should I help?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, what's in it for me?"

"James," she sighed. "That's not the point of charity."

"Which is why I don't do charity," he said simply.

"Oh, dear. Who says that they don't do charity?" asked a man with a very deep voice who James could not see because he was still lying on his back and staring determinately at his magazine. In any case, it was not a huge leap of faith to assume that this man was the vicar his aunt had been referring to.

"I reckon that might've been me," replied James.

"Ah, well that's a pity," said the vicar.

Even though he was still not looking, James knew that the man had entered his room.

"Is it?"

"Yes, quite. We could really use your help down in the village hall today."

"Doing what exactly?" asked James.

"It's a jumble sale, see? You'll be unpacking boxes and selling second hand bits and bobs to people."

"Don't you have a charity shop for that rubbish?"

"Well that's an Oxfam," he said, lowering himself to sit on the end of James' bed. "This is on behalf of the church."

"Sounds delightful."

"I think you'd have more fun then you realise."

"Really?" he scoffed.

"It's hard being the new student. This would be a good opportunity to make friends."

James snorted, "I've never had much trouble making friends."

"You might think that now, but this is a very close-knit community. It might be hard to penetrate."

"Fine!" snapped James. "I'll do it if it'll get you out of my room."

Angie was aghast. "James! We don't talk to guests like that!"

The vicar just chuckled.

"Now, Angie, don't be too hard on the boy. I remember I had a mouth on me when I was his age."

James highly doubted that was true but it subdued Angie enough.

"Right you are," she said. "Would you like another cup of tea before you leave, Vicar?"

"That'd be lovely," he replied and, with a loud creak, he lifted himself off of James' bed. "You'll need to arrive at the village hall around eleven."

"That's fine."

"Enjoy your magazine."

"I will."

It was not a long walk to the village hall. Angie Potter's house opened directly onto what appeared to be a green and it was just across this green that the hall was situated.

The inside looked rather spacious but perhaps that was to do with the fact that the only objects within the hall were three tables, a dozen or so boxes, and a weary looking teenage boy.

"Hello," said the boy upon James' entrance. He had light brown hair and weak smile.

"Hi," said James.

"Are you here to buy something?"

"Actually, no. I'm here to help out."

The boy raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I'm James Potter; Angie Potter's nephew," he explained.

"I'm Remus Lupin; Olivia Lupin's nephew."

James frowned and asked, "Do I know her?"

Remus bit his lip and conceded, "No, but I thought it might make me sound witty and cool."

"Ah, well it did a bit."

"Really?"

"Eh," said James with a shrug.

Bending down, Remus got a sturdy grip on the box by his feet and, very slowly, began to lift it up. By the time the box was on the table, he looked as though he'd had a run in with a large bear.

"So you're staying with your aunt and she sent you to help out?" Remus guessed.

"Sort of," James replied, strictly ignoring the withered appearance of his new companion, thinking it would be unkind to comment.

"Sort of?"

"Well, I'm sort of living with her at the moment," he clarified. "At least until after sixth-form."

"Ah, that's cool," said Remus.

"Yeah, well anyway she sent me here to fill in for someone."

"Who? Meadowes or Evans?" he asked.

"I honestly don't have a clue. She's blonde with really really long legs."

"Meadowes," said Remus, answering his own question.

"So what is it we're doing here?" He gave the room a quick glance, hoping that perhaps an interesting activity would strut out from behind a curtain covered in bells and explosives. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for his day.

"We are emptying boxes," Remus announced, on fate's behalf.

"Glamorous."

"Very."

The two boys received a total of five customers in the following two hours. Due to this, they were forced to otherwise entertain themselves.

At around one in the afternoon, they were both sitting on one of the tables and playing a rather fierce game of snap.

"You know," said James, throwing down a three of hearts. "I think that card games are possibly the most underrated sources of entertainment."

"I might have to agree with you there... SNAP!" Remus cried. "Does that mean I win? Does that mean this is the third time in a row that I've won?"

"Alright, you cocky bastard, don't get ahead of yourself."

Remus raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"You want a rematch then?" offered Remus.

"Nah I reckon you're too good at this game and it's doing awful things to my pride."

"Yeah you're right," said Remus, swinging his legs over the table and hopping to his feet.

James followed suit.

"Besides," said Remus pointedly. "We should really get back to all these customers."

"Is it always this eventful?" asked James dryly, glancing around the near-empty hall.

Remus grimaced. "Sometimes there's a Punch and Judy show."

Just as the two boys had seemed to reach an agreement on the state of uneventfulness the pitiful sale was in, an event took place in the form of an opening door.

Into the hall entered a girl with vivid red hair that had not been brushed recently enough, a ragged-looking daisy chain sitting atop of her head, and an apologetic expression on her pretty face.

James felt his mouth get a little dry at the sight of her. He's seen her once before and she had had much the same effect on him.

"I am so sorry!" she cried, taking little notice of James as she flew over to Remus.

"That's alright," said Remus, very quick to put a halt to any further apology. "It hasn't exactly been thriving to tell you the truth."

"I didn't... think... it would be... busy," she managed to get out between heavy breaths.

"Nah, it usually picks up after lunch," he agreed. "Did you bring the boxes from the Church?"

The girl shot Remus a confused look.

"I thought Dorcas was supposed to do that," she said.

"Ah right," said Remus. "I'll go get them then."

"Why? Where's Dorcas?"

"Otherwise occupied it seems."

"Oh. Is it just us two then?" she asked.

"No. We have help."

It was only then that she looked over at James.

"Hi," she greeted warmly. He responded to this with equal warmth and they solidified this meeting with an adequately pleasant handshake.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said.

"James Potter," he replied.

There was something about his face and voice that felt familiar to her, but Lily was certain she didn't know this boy so she asked, "Have you just moved here?"

James narrowed his eyes at her.

"How'd you know I haven't been here the whole time?" he said.

Remus and Lily both shared a look before laughing.

"This place isn't exactly a jam-packed metropolis of people," Remus explained. "When you see a face you don't recognise you know it's because they're not from around here."

"Fantastic!" cried James, rubbing his hands together. "I'll be getting all the attention then."

Lily laughed.

"Right, you two carry on here," said Remus. "I'll get the boxes that Dorcas was supposed to get."

"Oh, no, you don't have to," Lily protested. "I can go."

"Nah, it's fine."

She looked at him with doubt in her eyes and said, "You sure you can manage on your own?"

"Lily, it's boxes of old toys not a sports car."

"I know but I don't want you to get worn out."

He sighed, "You're worse than my mother, you know that?"

James didn't understand anything that was going on and it didn't sound particularly interesting. He therefore distracted himself by flipping through the pages of a nearby copy of The Catcher in the Rye.

"Alright, alright, go," she said when James had reached the fifth page, raising her hands in surrender.

"Be back in ten," he promised, giving James a quick nod before departing.

Lily watched Remus leave before turning to look at James, her mouth opening to begin conversation. She was going to ask him what he thought of Sowsworth, how long he was staying, where he was staying, who he'd met, anything really. Lily liked getting to know people. Apparently James did not take much interest in polite chit-chat because he was still flipping through the book with great concentration, discouraging Lily from saying anything at all.

Then, finally, James spoke.

"Nice hair," he teased.

"Sorry, what?" she asked, taken aback by his sudden breaking of the silence.

"Nice hair," he repeated.

Lily frowned and said, "Is that supposed to be a reference to the fact that I'm ginger?"

"No, it was a reference to the fact that you having a daisy chain in your hair."

Her frown of confusion persevered for a moment or so before it was replaced by realisation.

"Oh, shit. I forgot!" she cried, pulling the thing off of her head.

"Is that why you were late? Making daisy chains?" he asked, amused as he snapped the book closed and dropped it on the nearest table.

"Sort of," she admitted.

"Seriously?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not mad!"

James snorted, "Right, you just have a terribly sane affection for daisies."

"Well actually I do rather like daisies." Lily ignored his look of scepticism. "But that's not why I was late."

"Then how come?"

"Well, my friend Janine stopped me on my way to the church. She'd had an argument with her brother again and she needed someone to whinge to."

"And this factors in the daisy chain how?"

"Well, she was rabbiting on a bit," Lily explained, refusing to meet James' eyes as she continued. "We ended up sitting down on the grass. Then I sort of got a little bit bored and ended up making the daisy chain."

"Well it does sound less mad when you explain it like that," he admitted.

"I'm glad."

"There's one thing I still can't figure out, though."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"Yeah," he said. "Why were you on your way to the church?"

"Oh, I was supposed to get the boxes..." she trailed off and turned red.

"Ah, so you lied!" cried James gleefully. "You deceived our poor Remus into doing your work for you."

Lily shook her head frantically, as a child would when they'd been caught stealing from their mother's purse.

"I didn't want him to get them! I would've gone myself. I just didn't want to get in trouble for forgetting them."

"How much trouble would you have gotten into?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, none really," she conceded. "But I just didn't want to look stupid."

"So you thought you'd blame it on poor Dorcas."

She was going very red and still not meeting his eye.

"Oh, don't get all doe-eyed just because I caught you out."

"I wasn't."

"Yeah right," he scoffed.

Silence fell between them for another few moments. There was not much left for them to do, however, so James preoccupied himself by playing an instrument meant for children.

Lily preoccupied herself with staring at James, unable to shake that feeling that she'd seen him before. There was just something familiar about the cockiness he exhibited as he knocked out a very jumpy rendition of what sounded like Mary Had a Little Lamb.

He soon got bored of this and made to turn away from the instrument, forcing Lily to gaze elsewhere in order to avoid the utter humiliation that would no doubt descend upon her if James caught her staring.

"Got bored of the xylophone, did you?" she asked, trying to break the tension.

James gave her a pitying look and said, "Come on now, it's a mini glockenspiel."

"Sorry."

"You should be."

Lily let out a breathy laugh. "

You said your last name was Potter, right?" she asked, redirecting the conversation and stealing yet another curious glance.

"I believe I did."

"Are you related to Angie then?" She thought that perhaps this was why she knew his face and his hair and his voice and his cocky attitude so well (never mind that Angie held none of these qualities).

He grinned. "Yeah, I'm her nephew. I'm staying with her actually."

"For how long?"

"Until I finish school I suppose," he said.

She glanced at him again. "Oh? What year are you in?"

"I'm going into sixth-form in September."

"Oh!" she cried with a smile. "That means you're in my year."

"Cool," he said, smiling too.

As James returned to the glockenspiel and began to play Three Blind Mice, Lily's gaze kept on his face.

"Am I really that attractive?" he said wearily upon ending his song.

"Sorry?" stammered Lily, doing her very best to restrain blushing.

"Well, it's just that you keep staring at me."

"I do not."

"Oh, but you do," he insisted.

"Alright," she admitted. "But it's not because you're attractive."

"But I am attractive, right?"

"I never said that."

"That doesn't make it any less true," said James defiantly.

Lily giggled slightly, unsure whether or not she found him funny or irritating.

"Why were you staring at me then?" he pressed.

"It's just..." she considered lying, but she didn't know what the point would be. After all, her reasoning wasn't embarrassing in itself. Just the staring. "Are you sure we haven't met before? I feel like I recognise you from somewhere."

"I came here back in July to talk to McGonagall. Maybe you saw me then."

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, drifting off for a few seconds. Not exactly a long period of time but long enough for James to get bored.

He cleared his through, bringing her out of her daze.

"Sorry," she said, blinking a lot. "I tend to daydream sometimes."

"I didn't realise I was that boring," he teased.

Lily didn't bite this particular bait and instead directed the conversation towards an area which interested her far more.

"What do you think of Sowsworth so far?" she inquired.

"Well I haven't seen much of it but it doesn't look like it's the most thrilling place in the world."

"It's pretty though!"

James shrugged.

"I've seen prettier. If I'm honest, I'm counting down the days until I can get out of here," he admitted.

"You'll change your mind," said Lily. "The people are friendlier than anywhere else, we all help each other out, we have a good school, we have... we have an amazing Farmer's Market, we have... erm... well, we have locally baked bread."

"Wait, the bread is baked locally? That changes everything."

She gave him a sarcastic smile.

"I don't care what you think. Sowsworth is the best place in the world. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. Why do you think all the rich families come and live here? It's peaceful, it's beautiful, and it's friendly. I bet you couldn't find anywhere else nearly as wonderful."

The way she babbled on about the place made it seem like some sort of promise land, but James knew full well that is was nothing of the sort. Sowsworth was a wasteland that comprised of seven shops, a pub, and the incredibly bored shadows of lonely people. It was not bloody Shangri-la.

Still, her babbling was a tad endearing.

Just a tad though.

"How about you show me around sometime?" he suggested in a would-be casual voice. "You could prove me wrong about the place."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, "But I have a boyfriend."

"Well we both know that's a lie." She made a noise of protest but he continued to speak. "But let's humour this little boyfriend fantasy of yours for a moment. Why would it matter if you had a boyfriend? I was asking you to show me around the village not to show me your knickers."

"Oh, and a tour is really all you had in mind?"

"Jesus, you're quick to judge!" he exclaimed. "It's a good thing I didn't ask for a map of the place. You might've kneed me in the bollocks and ran away screaming."

"Don't give me any ideas," she warned.

"Anyway, what makes you think that I'm even attracted to you?"

"You're not?"

He shrugged before saying, "You've got small boobs."

Eyes widening, she was quick to cross her arms across her chest.

"Also," he continued, "This whole making up a boyfriend thing is putting you across as a bit mentally unstable."

"You are a pig and my boyfriend is not made up."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

"What's his name then?"

"Kenneth," she replied, a little too quickly for James' liking.

"Kenneth?" he cried, as though it was the most absurd word he had ever heard.

"Yes. His name is Kenneth."

"Seriously? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's just that you could've named him anything," he professed. "Why Kenneth? Why not Dave or Charlie? Why did you have to pick something so ugly?"

"I didn't pick it."

"Whatever you say, Evans."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Potter," Lily warned.

"And why's that? Is your boyfriend big?" he asked mockingly.

"No," she said fairly. "But neither are you."

"Oi!"

"What?"

"I reckon that was uncalled for."

She opened her mouth in incredulity. "Are you serious? You haven't stopped insulting me for the past ten minutes."

"Yeah, but I'm trying to get in your knickers so it's not offensive."

She scowled and smacked him very lightly on the shoulder.

"So we did order in a Punch and Judy show then," said a smirking Remus.

Neither James nor Lily had noticed him re-enter the hall and were reasonably surprised to hear his voice.

"We're getting puppets?" asked Lily, unnaturally casual.

"Actually I was referring to you two." Remus nodded from Lily to James. Neither made eye contact. "Alright," said Remus, clapping his hands together as though he had exciting news. "I ran into Benjy outside and he said that he wants to help out."

James snorted, "Right, because with this mass of customers what we really need are more people to help out. Why does he want to help out anyway?"

"His mum's angry with him," he explained.

"Why?" asked Lily. "She didn't find him hanging around the Longbottom's again, did she?"

"I reckon she must've."

"Shit."

"So he wants to do charity work because he had a fight with his mummy?" James queried, his tone mocking.

"Pretty much."

"Sounds like a wanker to me," said James.

There was something about the way he said that word that seemed a little too familiar to Lily. Then it clicked.

"I knew I'd seen you before," she said quietly.

"Sorry?"

"When you had that meeting with McGonagall a while back," she took a pause she purse her lips in displeasure. "You shoved into my friend Severus on your way out, didn't you?"

He grinned a little.

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that. He was an ugly git. Oi!" cried James. "This Severus isn't your boyfriend is he?"

"My boyfriend's called Kenneth," she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah."

At that moment Benjy arrived, although not alone. He was accompanied by none other than Dorcas Meadowes who was talking rapidly to him.

"And I haven't been able to find him since," she finished. "You haven't seen him have you?"

"Sorry. Last I saw Colin he was running off to the Prewetts with you," he said.

Dorcas pouted at this.

"You were my last hope!" she whimpered. "If I can't find Colin then I suppose I'll have to die of boredom here with you people."

"Cheers for that, Cas," said Lily, but she was glad for a distraction from James Potter who had very quickly become someone she didn't particularly want to interact with.

"Hiya!" she flashed a smile and made her way to stand beside her friend. "You haven't seen..."

"Colin? No sorry."

Dorcas let out a heavy sigh.

"Well, I suppose I really am stuck here then."

"What so we have five people helping out now?" questioned Remus. "I feel like this is a little overboard."

"Well I'm a late comer so I'll go," said Benjy.

"No I think you're one of the few people who actually want to be here."

"James can go," Lily volunteered at an incredible speed. "I mean, it's obvious he's not enjoying himself."

"That's fine by me," said James, leaving abruptly and defiantly not giving Lily a smile.

"Remus, you can go with him too if you like," Lily's voice had become much kinder in James' departure. "You've been here the longest and I'm sure there's stuff you'd rather be doing."

"You sure?" asked Remus.

"Yeah."

He grinned and thanked her before following James out of the hall.

Lily turned to look at her blonde friend, who was still pouting.

"Cas, I'm surprised you didn't volunteer to leave."

"Well I was just thinking that maybe Colin might come in," she said hopefully.

"Not if he's avoiding you," muttered Benjy.

"Wait, Cas, why is Colin avoiding you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she sighed.

Benjy echoed her sigh in relief, "Thank God for that."

"Basically," she began, in direct contradiction with her previous reluctance to talk. "Colin and I decided to go for a walk 'round the Prewett farm because there's hardly ever any other people about."

"Right?" encouraged Lily, ignoring the warning look Benjy was giving her over Dorcas' shoulder.

The sunshine had increased substantially while they had been inside, and so, upon exiting the village hall, both Remus and James removed their jumpers.

"Where are you off to?" asked James.

Remus shrugged. "Home, I suppose."

"Oh," said James, disappointed.

"Why?"

"I dunno." He turned to look at Remus. "I just thought you might want to hang out."

"With you?"

"Unless you've got better friends to hang around," he said quickly.

"Actually, I don't," said Remus.

"Well that's sad. I'm a terrible friend. Just you wait a see."

Remus just grinned at him.

"What?" James questioned. "I'm serious you know, I am a terrible terrible friend. Awful."

"You're not really selling yourself to me, are you?"

"Well, I reckon I don't have to try very hard."

Remus frowned, asking, "Why's that?"

"Because I feel like we've established an acquaintanceship now that I can utilise for the next two years."

"How so?"

"Simple," said James. "You are obligated to hang around with me whenever I need someone to hang around."

"Well, while that sounds fun..."

"Not fun," corrected James, "More like a mediocre way to pass time."

Remus chuckled, "Right right, of course."

"And your objection was?" asked James, as the boys strolled across the green.

"What if I don't want to hang around you?"

"Too bad," he stated simply.

"Brilliant."

It was just then that Remus and James' paths were obstructed by three rather well dressed boys.

"Oi, get a load of this," sneered the one to the left who had dark hair and very big eyebrows. "It looks like Wheezer has got himself a little friend."

James turned to Remus.

"Wheezer?" he questioned in a whisper.

"It's nothing," said Remus. "They're better off ignored."

"What? No clever comment today?"

"What would be the point? You never understand them," said Remus before fumbling to stuff his hands in his pockets as he walked past them, head high the whole time.

"You're not even going to introduce us to the new Mrs. Wheezer?" one of them catcalled.

"Oi! Mrs. Wheezer!" cried another.

"Yes," responded James, smiling contently. "Although you should know that I generally go by James Potter. Mrs. Wheezer is strictly for dinner parties and Christmas."

The boy with the eyebrows knitted them even further together in a frown which may or may not have been an attempt at intimidation.

"What have you got to say for yourself?" he asked of James.

"Plenty," said James. "Do you have any topic you'd like me to focus on, Eyebrows?"

"It's Bernard. Bernard Mulciber."

"Well, while that's a very fine name, I'm afraid I shall have to hereafter refer to you as Eyebrows."

Eyebrows rolled his eyes. "Listen, smartarse, I'm trying to do you a favour here. Trust me when I say that hanging around with Wheezer isn't going to do you any favours."

"I'm sorry, correct me if I'm mistaken. Are you trying to seduce me into being your friend? Because I've got to tell you that while your eyebrow action is attractive enough it's not exactly getting me hot and bothered."

Eyebrows made to lunge for James but his two companions held him back, while Remus grabbed James' forearm and tugged him.

"Come on," he muttered.

James conceded, but only because (not that he would ever admit this) he didn't see himself coming out on top in a fight against three angry teenage boys with his only back up being a boy they referred to as 'Wheezer'.

Eyebrows and Co. did not follow them, and so when they turned down a road named Church Street (quite possibly because of the church not ten metres down it) and seated themselves on the graveyard wall, they felt comfortable enough to resume conversation.

"They were right, you know," said Remus, squinting in the sunlight and fiddling with a loose thread on his trousers. "Hanging around me isn't going to do you any favours."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm not exactly the kind of bloke people want to be mates with, that's all."

"Rubbish," dismissed James. "Do you have murderous tendencies?"

"Well, no but..."

"Are you likely to fondle me?"

"No."

"Do you steal from people?"

"No."

"Do you touch yourself in public?"

"No!"

"Then I can't see what's so offensive about you."

"I'm just not very cool, that's all," he said.

"What?" cried James. "You're very cool. I mean, I've only been here about a day and so far you seem like the only sane person."

Remus frowned, but didn't say anything. Instead he appeared to have found a terribly interesting piece of moss between two bricks in the wall.

James didn't seem to notice, to Remus' relief, because James was now staring at the roof of the church.

After a while, he mused, "You know, there's a football up there."

Remus allowed his eyes to follow James' gaze until he saw the football in question, sitting quite comfortably in the guttering of the church roof.

"Indeed there is," said Remus.

"And nobody's thought to get it down?"

Remus didn't really know what to say to this, partially because he had never really thought about the roof of the church, but mostly because he'd never had to retrieve a football in his life. In fact, even conversations about footballs made him queasy.

"I'm hungry," said James finally.

"Me too."

James leapt off of the wall, announcing he was off home for lunch and asked Remus if he'd be interested in joining.

"I better not. My mum's making toad in the hole."

"Well I would judge you eternally for missing out on that."

"I'll see you around then?"

"Yeah."

"Wait!" James called after him.

"Yeah?"

"Which house is yours?"

"Number seven."

"Which road?"

"This one!" and with that, Remus disappeared into a little blue cottage not far away.

The blue cottage on Church Street, James noted. He would have to remember that.

Eyebrows and Co. were not happy. In fact, their not-happiness incited them so far as to relay their unfortunate encounter to their peers.

In turn, these peers were equally displeased. Thus, chaotic conversation ensued.

"I reckon he's one of the locals," said Eyebrows.

"How come?"

"Because nobody new's moved in around here as far as I know."

"He's not moved into the Dearborn house then?"

"Nah that's still empty," confirmed Eyebrows.

"Also he was hanging out with Wheezer. That's just a major indication of grottiness."

"What did he say his name was?"

"Potter, I think."

"Must be related to Angie."

"She's a local if ever I saw one."

"We can't let gits like that get away with talking like that to people like us!"

"What are we gonna do about it?"

"We ought to teach him a lesson!"

"Do we know where to find him?"

"I know where Angie Potter lives."

"Good. Let's go get him."

"What? All of us?"

"What about your brother?" Eyebrows suggested to the boy whose house they were conversing in.

"Yeah... " said the boy thoughtfully. "My brother would flatten him. Oi Pettigrew, go and get my brother."

The boy called Pettigrew whimpered, "Do I have to?"

"Why? You're not scared of him are you?"

"No! Why would you say that?" he cried.

"Oh, don't be a pussy, Peter. Just go and get him."

"Why do we need your brother?"

"Because," he said proudly, "My brother could do him."

Which was true enough, but the boy was unaware that he was putting a little too much faith in his relationship with his brother itself.

James had once told McGonagall that Angie Potter was an excellent cook and he hadn't been wrong. At least not about that.

"Smells good," he said appreciatively, entering the kitchen.

"It'll taste better," she replied.

James grinned and leaned over her shoulder.

"What is it?"

"Chicken stew."

Before he could beg for an early taste, there was a knock on the door.

"Can you get that while I lay the table?" Angie asked him.

James did so and made his way down the hallway.

Upon opening the door, he was greeted with the appearance of a very handsome teenage boy with black hair and grey eyes.

"Hello," said the stranger, flashing an unnervingly toothy grin. "I'm here to 'do you.'"