BOTH ALIKE IN DIGNITY

By: geekinthepink

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Mine nothing. Sorry.

NOTE: Spark notes are love. Many thanks to the people at Barnes & Noble for Spark notes otherwise I think the conversation between James and Mercutio would have fallen a little flat.

Chapter Four – Act Two, Scenes One Through Three: Slaughtering the Balcony Scene

It was the prospect of going home that propelled Lily into waiting restlessly on the bed of her new suite. She didn't know what she was supposed to be looking for to alert her to James's arrival, surely he wouldn't climb the trellis to get to her in the manner that the original Romeo had. Actually, he would probably shout obscenities at her and demand that Lily climb down the trellis to meet up with his lazy arse.

Playing the part of Juliet down to the wistful glances she was throwing out the window, she cursed James Potter for the third time that day as she realized that no beautiful metaphors would be arising on the pages of the books the play was printed in. Lily's stomach dropped. The play! She hadn't even realized what sort of consequences they would face for meddling with the play. Surely everything was being rewritten and distorted horribly out of the way that things were meant to be. She cradled her head in her hands, her elbows digging painfully into the stone balcony. This was James's fault, and she was personally going to make sure that he drank every last drop of the foul poison in the story.

While Lily was cursing every bone in the boy's body, James was too busy chuckling aloud in a maniacal sort of way as he looked at the ivy covered wall that he was expected to scale. He had finally managed to get Not-Sirius and Not-Remus away from him long enough to get to this point, but the actual idea of scaling the wall had caused a screw to come loose in his mental capacity.

It was a very large wall covered in nothing but slippery ivy. This Romeo bloke must have been mad to scale this over a ruddy girl. He shook his head dismissively; no, this would not do at all. He would waltz right back into the ballroom, ask someone where to find Juliet and avoid the wall altogether. It was just his unfortunate luck that a voice, that sounded eerily like his mum and Lily combined, reminded him that he was labeled a Montague and thus could not waltz into the ballroom asking for the whereabouts of someone who is supposed to be his enemy.

Laughing with dry sobs filled with woeful feelings towards himself, James gripped tightly on to the ivy and pulled the weight of his body up into it. He flung his body over the wall with such a force that he toppled ungracefully to the ground.

"Bloody Quidditch reflexes." He muttered angrily as his words filled with sarcasm.

Getting up and brushing the layer of dirt that now coated his unusual getup he found himself in an orchard. With an exasperated sigh, he wondered wistfully what he had ever done to deserve this. With a long list of apologizes, beginning with one to his mother for not picking up his toys at the age of three and forcibly skipping all apologies made to those of the Slytherin sort, he made his way towards the direction of the balcony.

Unfortunately, a pair of voices stopped him as they were calling out his name. Rather, they were calling out Romeo's name. Ah, Not-Sirius and Not-Remus had found him at last -- took them long enough. He stood silently still and the pair seemed to feel that he simply did not want to be found.

Not-Sirius's laughter filled the air before he began mocking this poor Romeo bloke's love for Rosaline. Instead of rising to the teasing, James responded with a roll of his eyes and a low chuckle. Turning his back on the noise he found the redhead in question just above him, looking more like a part in this play that anyone had right to.

Since finding out that the pretty stranger in the ballroom was Lily Evans herself, the word pretty had been stripped out of his vocabulary, but now it seemed to be the only adjective to describe her in this moment. No, he took that back, she was repulsively beautiful. The moonlight glinted off the auburn strands of her hair and her pale skin sparkled next to the extravagant gown that flowed over her body. This time period suited the hot-headed girl, in looks alone.

Lily's sigh brought him out of his thoughts but she spoke before he had the chance to alert her to his presence. "Why did it have to be Potter? Of all people…" Her words were soft and he almost missed them, but as they reached his ears, his heart noticeably sank. The previous thoughts of her attractiveness were banished quickly.

"Evans!" he called out, pulling her out of her thoughts rudely.

"Keep your voice down!" She demanded in a pointed whisper, surprised at his sudden appearance. "They'll kill you if they find you here and as much as it would make this whole thing easier on me, like I said, I don't have time to condition a new Head Boy!"

"They could not kill me; I have one thing that they do not have." He informed her with the same vile cheekiness that made him who he was. "Magic." He retorted with a grin.

She thought quickly to the wand that she had hidden in the wardrobe of Juliet's room, terrified out of her wits that someone may find it and there would be dozens of new problems unleashed. She sighed at his arrogance and sheer childishness. "Yes, well, don't tempt them." She warned quickly. "Listen, we don't have a lot of time. We need to figure out something to do and I cannot think of a single spell that would transport dimensions."

"Well, what spell got us here in the first place?" he questioned.

"I don't remember." She admitted softly, hating herself for having gotten so enraged in the first place. "I can't remember what spells I cast on you. Can you remember what you cast on me?"

"No. I cast a lot of spells in a day; it would be hard to pick out the one that I used on you from the one I used on Snivellus." James admitted.

She glared at the demeaning name that he had given one of their fellow classmates but chose to ponder their options for a moment. "What we need is someone skilled in spells or potions or something…"

James was about to make a snide remark about how she had pointed out the obvious when the same voice that had called Lily off earlier in the day broke through their conversation. "I'm coming!" Lily called back through the open French doors. "I don't know what we're supposed to do, in the next scene you're supposed to go meet with Friar Lawrence, he's not as straight laced as he may seem, see if you can get any information out of him."

"And you? What are you going to do?" he questioned, finding it unfair that this was all going to fall onto him.

Nurse's voice broke through again and Lily hurriedly sent another "I'm coming!" in her direction. "I'm going to be looking around here and seeing if I can find any information." She ducked back into the room and James stood staring at the panes of glass as though he could somehow cause them to shatter and embed themselves into Lily's skin. This was not fair. It was not his fault this happened, why should he have to go ask this Friar person for help?

She rushed back to the balcony in a flutter of vibrant hair and swirling skirts. "Nine o'clock tomorrow morning -- don't be late." She paused for a moment as though considering her next words. "Good luck, James." And then she was gone. It took a moment before James followed her example.

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Lily found it hard to get any sleep that night, knowing that time was running out. All Shakespearean plays had five acts signifying the chart of a plot. They had already passed the introduction and were now mounting the rising action. This was the part that was supposed to be a gradual build up of everything but it seemed to whip past her. Everything would be downhill from here and that was what caused her body to fight off sleep. Every now and then she would hustle over to the wardrobe that she had hidden her wand in and look at its spell casting history. But every time, she would find the same answers… nothing. It seemed that in traveling through this dimension, all history of spells had been erased.

A stubborn urge to cry poked relentlessly at her eyes and soon she was batting the tears from her cheeks. It wasn't that she was sad about this whole ordeal, she angry. She was angry at herself, at James Potter, at her wand and even at Mr. William Shakespeare. She didn't want to die because they couldn't find a way to reverse this, but she couldn't see the answers being in any book. Hopefully James would be able to get some answers. She closed her eyes, willing sleep to come and eventually, it did.

When the sunlight filtered through the window in with an eerie sense of déjà vu, James found himself just finishing the act of tying his ridiculous shoes. He hadn't been able to sleep much either so when the reddish hues of sunlight peeked over the horizon, he pulled himself away from his bed easily.

With the hideous trousers and shirt on he found himself feeling more and more out of place every moment. Even with his wand stowed away in a hidden pocket, he still felt that things were horribly out of place. Now wasn't the time for identity crises as he had to go speak with some Friar before nine o'clock this morning when he was supposed to report to the she-devil.

On his way out, he managed to get the Friar's address from one of the poor serving maids who appeared to be startled by the simple question. Perhaps it was the fact that James nearly harassed her for the answers that caused her breath to hitch up in her throat. However, in a move that he was sure that not even this Romeo guy could have perfected, he smiled at the poor girl before thanking her and taking his leave.

The route wasn't long, but it was filled with thoughts of James's own stupidity. Last night he had made a terrible mistake in his own thoughts and he wasn't quite sure what to do about it. It was probably the time period causing him to think like that, causing him to believe that for one moment, Lily Evans could have actually appeared to be beautiful. No! He had gotten it! It was the spell. She had cast some love spell on him to think such horrible and disgusting thoughts and trap them both in this wretched love story. Sure, there were obvious flaws with that theory, but it was the best one he had.

With the sunlight barely illuminating the earth, James found himself standing in front of an older man who was fiddling around with several weeds, herbs and flowers. Filling up a basket full of them, he began rattling off about the properties of each of them. He was speaking just above a whisper, but loud enough that James heard and mused that this man was a complete nutter.

It wasn't soon after James walked in that the Friar appeared to be shaken out of his thoughts and instead rounded on the newcomer. It was quite frightening and reminded James of Professor Slughorn, sans the excess weight.

"You have not slept." Friar Lawrence accused. James silently cursed this period for its lack of mirrors, as well as his own lack of care this morning, the bags under his eyes were probably pronounced. "Is it Rosaline? Did you spend the night in her bed?" The question caused a deep russet color to brighten James's cheeks and he side stepped into the shadows to hide the offending marks. This Romeo person seriously needed to keep his hormones in check.

"Of course I didn't." he defended himself easily. "I actually I have small problem." When the Friar didn't say anything, James took that as his cue to continue. "You see, something terrible has happened." The word 'spell' would probably not be appreciated by this Catholic priest so he tried to find some other way to word it. "Something strange has transported me and someone else to this dimension and we would like to go home."

"How much ale have you had, Romeo?" The Friar seemed concerned and James sighed heavily.

"None. Is there any potion that you can make that will allow me and someone else to travel to the year 1977?" So much for softening the blow.

"You mention this someone else often. Who are they?" The Friar's question was innocent and justified but it only served to upset James more. He didn't have time for this. He looked down at his wrist where his watch should have been to see nothing but his own skin. He had forgotten; he had loaned his watch to Sirius the day that they had been transported here. That most certainly was Lily's fault.

"Li… Juliet." He corrected himself swiftly. "Juliet Capulet." This was still strange and he was certain that he would never get used to it, and hopefully, he wouldn't have to.

"Capulet?" Friar Lawrence's shock was not unnoticed. "A Capulet and a Montague?" This seemed to be something to ponder about but James sighed once more, wishing the older man would just hand over a potion and he could go home.

"Sir, I don't mean to be pushy but I really need to know. Is there any potion that will transport Juliet and I to 1977?"

"Running away together, are we?" Smarmy, perverted Friar. How could he not realize that James just wanted to go home? That he was only bringing Lily out of obligation. "Young love is impossibly fickle…" He was cut off shortly.

"I do not think that you understand." James nearly snapped, he was fighting to control his temper and this man was seriously pushing buttons that would set the aggravated seventeen year old off.

As if he hadn't heard a word that passed James's mouth, the Friar continued on. "But this Juliet lass, she loves you, does she not? That's better than the brick wall that was Rosaline. Though, there wasn't much intelligence with her at all, she appeared to be rather… thick."

"Do you have the potion or not?" James was getting really tired of hearing about Romeo's distorted love life. He didn't care who this bloody Rosaline was as technically, she didn't exist. None of these people existed.

The Friar seemed to be skeptical, however, he nodded curtly. "Yes, yes, come back later and I shall have something for the both of you." It didn't even register to James that it seemed a little sudden for a potion of that magnitude to be ready in just a day; he was too elated at the thought of going home. With a smile and a quick thanks, he made his way back into the streets hoping that it was not yet nine o'clock.

Friar Lawrence watched as young Romeo Montague left with a new burst of joy. He knew what needed to be done; he must bring together Romeo and Juliet to end the feud between the Montagues and the Capulets. It seemed to make perfect sense; he must marry the couple and force the families to unite over the union.

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"What do you think happened to him?" Mercutio, or as James had taken to call him, Not-Sirius, questioned the boy opposite him.

"I do not know," Benvolio, also known as Not-Remus, admitted. "A servant has informed me that he did not return home."

"It's that wench Rosaline, she had gotten him so caught up in being in love with her that she has convinced him to warm her bed." Mercutio informed his friend with malice. Benvolio frowned at the language, but could not deny the subtle hint of facts.

"Does it not seem strange to you that a Capulet, Tybalt, would challenge him to a duel?" Benvolio questioned thoughtfully.

"It is too late. Romeo is already dead, struck in the heart by Cupid's arrow." Mercutio was pleased with his own pun but grew somber with his own thought. "I do not even know whether Romeo is man enough to take on Tybalt."

"Don't be ridiculous." The more sympathetic of the two announced. "Romeo is as much of a man as you or I."

"But Tybalt… He is a swordsman, perfectly proper and composed in a style that is not matched by any other … And yet, he is also vain and far too worried about the latest fashions. I do despise him, I cannot lie about that."

James spotted the pair just in front of him and hoped that he would not have to face the temper of Lily Evans if these people made him late. He would never admit it, even under pain of death, but he was terrified of her when she was angry. Some of the spells she threw were absolutely vile and it took weeks for those boils to finally fade.

"Ah!" Mercutio called to him. "Fresh from Rosaline's love, let us look. Laura was nothing more than a kitchen maid. Dido's attire was lacking a certain grace. Cleopatra was nothing more than a gypsy. Helen and Hero were sluts and harlots… You are skilled at giving us the slip, Romeo." He teased relentlessly, reminding James instantly why this boy reminded him so much of Sirius.

"What do you mean?" James questioned innocently.

"You deserted us, abandoned… Can you not understand what I'm saying?" Mercutio continued.

"Terribly sorry, mate. I had some things I had to do." Benvolio and Mercutio treated James words as though he was speaking in a different language, and it was almost as if her were. Words such as mate and the easy dismissal of a problem as large as not taking the proper time to bid "adieu", were severely frowned upon.

"Was it something so important that you forgot to flex your buttocks?" The words were vulgar, even for a teenage boy from the 1970's.

"What?" James demanded.

"A curtsy, sir." Mercutio was still mocking him.

"Um… well, you see. There's a reasonable explanation for that." He just hadn't thought of it yet.

"I am the pink flower—the master of courtesy and manners." Mercutio said and James realized that this boy, like his own best mate, was completely off his rocker.

"The pink flower…?"

"Right."

"Well then, certain parts of me are decorated in flowers." Matching madness with madness. Besides, who could resist an innuendo?

"Oh, witty friend, this joke has worn out your … pump. The skin is all worn out, the joke is all you have left."

"This is ridiculous." James complained.

"Aren't you going to break this up, Benvolio? I am losing a battle of wits with our dear Romeo."

"Ah, so I have won?" James grinned cheekily at the win with the game he hadn't even known he was playing.

"I am done. You have too much hidden up your sleeve. It is a good chase."

"You are only good for the jokes." In times like this, it was easy to forget that this boy was not actually Sirius, and the same mockery would not work the same. Though, neither Mercutio nor Benvolio seemed to think that the words were odd coming from Romeo's mouth.

"I would bite you for that." Was James the only one who thought that was weird in any way?

"No, you goose, don't bite me." He protested.

"Your joke is bitter."

"Isn't it perfect for a goose then?"

"And once more, you jest. Though I admit, all of the joking is better than whining about love. Now you are the Romeo that we all know and love, you are not looking for a hole to hide your toy in no longer."

"Mercutio, stop." Benvolio warned in such a good impression of Remus that James had to smile.

"But I am not done." Mercutio complained.

"You ramble, dear friend, you are quite done." Benvolio continued.

James drew his attention away from the two as footsteps sounded as Nurse entered, flanked by some boy. She seemed to be ordering the young boy about so James figured that he must have been a servant, he was certainly playing the part of a house-elf.

"My fan please." She demanded of the boy as the sun was now beginning its climb into the sky and the rays were hitting the earth heavily.

"Yes, please give it to her for it is much more beautiful than her face." Mercutio obviously had not finished with his banter and James could see that Benvolio was seemingly embarrassed.

"Get out of here! Who do you think you are?" Once she was finished rounding out her anger on Mercutio she returned back to the task at hand. "Do any of you know where I could find young Romeo?"

"You've found him." James told her.

"If you are, in fact, the Romeo that I am looking for, I wish to have a conference with you."

"Romeo," Mercutio interrupted. "Are you coming to your father's for lunch?" he questioned, beginning off in that direction.

"I'll be there later." James dismissed the pair. With each of them sending him a curious and displeased look, they finally did leave. A sigh of relief passed James's lips, it was tiring trying to keep up with the banter of Not-Sirius, he was a match of wits and it reminded him too much of his own friends. If possible, he missed them more now.

"Sir, if I may have a word. My young mistress sent me with a message for you but I cannot disclose its contents until you promise me that your intentions with her are not a trick. She is young, sir, and I couldn't bear to see her so distressed on your account."

"Tell your "young mistress" that I say hello." He could help the subtle amount of teasing. "I promise you –" he was cut off rudely.

"You're a good man." Nurse told him. "And I'll tell her that too. That will surely make her happy."

"What?" James was thoroughly confused now. "What are you going to tell her, exactly?"

"Why that you're proposing, of course." She said it with such a smile and such a casual grace that James paled considerably and for a moment, felt that he had completely forgotten how to breathe.

"No, don't tell her that. Just tell her to meet me at Friar Lawrence's this afternoon." Breathing was still a little difficult. Why would this absurd woman believe that he would be proposing. He told the woman to tell Lily 'hello', not 'Let's get married'.

"This afternoon?" she clarified.

"Yes, this afternoon. Tell her that everything is all worked out." If possible, the seedy old woman grinned even larger at this news.

"Oh wait! I had almost forgotten. There is a nobleman, sir. One named Paris who wished to make Juliet his wife. Juliet, of course, despises the poor man. Sometimes I tease her by telling her that Paris is more handsome than you are, which causes her to pale to a white more white than a sheet." James had to admit that this must be true, she was probably trying to keep the bile down from thinking that either one of them were attractive.

"Nurse, just tell her. This afternoon at Friar Lawrence's." James was getting impatient, this was the third time this morning that people had just rambled on when there were more important things at hand. He was beginning to think that they just liked hearing themselves talk.

The Nurse and her serving boy left with polite nods and curtsies, leaving James with nothing to do except catch up with Not-Sirius and Not-Remus at the Montague home.