Warning:
This is so perfunctory, but I'm assuming that the readers of this story are not of such delicate sensibilities that the cussing that occurs in this chapter would offend them. But you never know with the invisible moderators who lurk around, so here's a warning, loud and clear.
So far:
James, with gentle prodding from Sarah, has his first real conversation with Lily – one which doesn't end in complete disaster – which is a real accomplishment in Sarah's eyes. (She also thinks her sitting through one of Sluggy's lunches is a real accomplishment, but no one seems to agree with her.)
On the other hand, the rest of Hogwarts seems to be forming the impression that James and Sarah are an item to stay for a while, as evidenced by Marlene's nosy cousin's not-so-gently enquiring. Sarah has many words to describe Ava McKinnon, and her favourite adjective to use regarding Ava is one that rhymes with witch, hitch, pitch, ditch, etc.
Oh, wait, when did Ava start fancying James? What?
PLAYING PRETEND
CHAPTER 6
September 28th, 1976
"So how do you think I'm doing?" asks James, running a hand through his hair. I'd had reason to believe that that was his nervous tell, but now, I'm not that sure.
"How you're doing in what?" I deflect, as I swing my legs up and down. We're sitting on the parapet wall of one of the arched windows on the ground floor, and I like how my red trainers look in the moonlight.
"Sarah," James whines, and I turn to smirk at him. It's pretty easy to get James worked up by pretending to be oblivious – something I've realised over the past couple of weeks.
"Alright, fine. I think you've made progress," I tell him.
"Really?" he asks, surprised, and there's so much hope shining in his eyes that I want to lean over and kiss him.
Actually, disregard that. I think Marlene and Alice have penetrated my subconscious with their not-so-witty remarks and hints.
"Yeah," I say, trying to control my blush at my earlier thought. It's not so much the act of kissing – it's the very fact that that thought's struck me.
James is still looking at me with that expression, so I continue. "Ever since the weekend, Lily hasn't excused herself from a conversation when you join in – that counts as progress."
"True," he says, stroking his chin, and I imagine that he's stroking a nonexistent beard.
"I thought you'd be more excited by that?" I prompt.
"I am," he says, turning around to look right into my eyes. The look on his face, though thoughtful, is serious. "It's just – I don't know– I should be thanking you, but somehow a mere thank you would feel meaningless, you know?"
This is it, Sarah! This is the moment when you can ask him to help you with Transfiguration!
I only got an 'A' this week in a surprise test McG truly surprised us (me) with, but being the Gryffindor I am, I ignore that voice in my head, and instead tell him, "That's what friends are for."
He smiles at me so cutely that there's this dimple in his cheek. He's absolutely adorable.
"You know what I think you should do next?"
"What?"
"I propose you next butter up Janice Thicke. It's always important to get the friends of the person you're dating on your side. Thicke is Lily's best friend, so when you get together with Lily, it'll help."
"Huh," he says, his face going through a variety of expressions before settling on a grim smile.
"I like it," he says firmly, before continuing. "But what do I talk about?"
"You have a match against Ravenclaw this Saturday, right?" I ask. The question's almost rhetorical, because the match and James' unreasonable training schedule are all that Marly can talk about at the moment.
"Right," he answers, flexing the muscles in his shoulders. I don't roll my eyes, though I want to, so badly.
"Well, I know for a fact from what Frank told Alice that Janice likes to come up with Quidditch plays. Maybe you can ask her to look over some plays you've planned, talk general Quidditch? And don't do this in front of Lily," I finish with a warning.
"Wait, Thicke likes talking Quidditch?" asks James, and I shrug. I'm offering him second-hand information, so it's not like I really know anything.
"Oh," he says, and it's that inflection he gives the syllable that makes me perk up my antenna.
"What 'oh'?" I ask him, my eyes narrowing slightly of their volition.
"That explains why I saw Janice and Fabian arguing very heatedly in the locker rooms yesterday."
"Oh?" I say, so he rushes to explain himself better.
"The thing about Fabian Prewett is that he's pretty set in his views about Quidditch. Like what's an ethical move, what isn't. He's just not innovative enough. Gideon, on the other hand, is a real star. He's smart, unorthodox, and loves looking for loopholes. Gideon–" he lowers his voice conspiratorially, so I lean in to hear better. "–was meant to be captain this year. That's what McGonagall wanted. But apparently, Dumbledore argued, said that it would strain brotherly relations if one twin was chosen over the other."
I guess he sees that both my eyebrows have shot up, because he chuckles.
"Who told you that?" I ask, curious. It's best I know everything about Fabian, of course. If Marlene's long-term plan works out, then Prewett will be my brother-in-law, of sorts.
"My uncle. He's close to Dumbledore. He trained under him in alchemy," James replies, and I nod, pleasantly surprised.
I'm about to ask about alchemy, when I a tiny thing that James had mentioned moments before makes me sit up.
"Why was Janice Thicke in the locker rooms?" I ask, doubly curious.
"I have no clue, honestly. She had some parchment scrolls in her hands. That's why when you said she's a Quidditch strategist, I thought it could be that..." he peters off.
I nod my head, distracted.
;;
"I suppose you'll be attending the Quidditch match tomorrow," says Lily to me, as we take a break from practising, ironically enough, the Aguamenti spell.
"Of course," I say pleasantly glad that Lily's finally talking to me again. After Sunday's intellectual argument which I'd butted myself into thoughtlessly, Lily had been giving me the cold shoulder.
"All for Potter, I suppose," she says snidely, and now, I'm actually offended.
"Marlene's on the team too, you know? I always attend the matches. I've never missed a single one before," I tell her equally coldly. "James told me he might use one of Thicke's plays. Maybe you should come as well, to see how it goes."
"Oh. Right. Sorry," she says, her face turning pink.
She talks a lot more freely with me after that, but my good humour hasn't been restored. I'm still really annoyed.
When Sirius corners me outside the classroom and loudly asks, "Hey, will you attend tomorrow's match, seeing as you and James are a thing?" I reply equally loudly, "Yes! Anything to support James!"
It's with a weird sense of satisfaction that I see Lily turn pink, look down, and hurry away.
Of course, Marlene ruins the moment by glaring at me for what I've said, and that restores my mood. I'm smiling again before we even reach Greenhouse No. 5, as I try to ruffle Marlene's hair just to annoy her further.
;;
October has officially started, as evidenced by how chilly it is at the moment. And up here in the Quidditch stands, it's colder than usual.
And what's more annoying than the chilly wind which persistently tries to unwrap my scarf is Ava McKinnon, annoying the fuck out of me. She shouldn't even be sitting here – she should be at the other stand, where people are wearing blue and bronze.
"Do you feel insecure, knowing that James will probably stop dating you if Lily asks him out?" asks Ava in that shrill voice of hers, just as Sirius saves the Quaffle rather spectacularly. I ignore her and cheer with the rest of the Gryffindors.
"Shouldn't you be elsewhere, midget?" asks Alice, turning around in her seat. She's sitting between me and Frank up in the fourth row, while Ava's managed to insert herself between two Fourth Year boys who look very happy to have her sitting there.
Did I ever mention how the McKinnons are a family of unbelievably good looking people? You should have seen Ava's older brother, Aaron, who graduated three years back. I might have had a teeny-tiny crush on him for a month or so.
Frank gives me an amused look over Alice's shoulder, as Ava turns her nose up at Ali.
"Does it bother you, Alice, knowing that I snogged Frank before you did?"
I can feel my jaw drop. A quick look at the Head Boy shows that his face is turning a horrid shade of crimson. Alice, on the other hand, has gone pale. Super pale. I'm no longer paying attention to the match.
"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" she asks menacingly, her voice almost a growl.
Ava looks smug, as she smirks.
"Why don't you ask dear Frankie here, who kisses better? Me or you?"
Alice stands up, and I stand up with her, just to restrain her, in case she decides to throttle Ava, even as the announcer announces that Gryffindor's new Seeker seems to have spotted the Snitch. I assume Frank has stood up to stop Alice as well, in case things get out of hand.
Three things happen at the same time, of which I notice only one. The other two, I notice only because people are first cheering, then yelling. A) Alice slaps Ava; B) Jonathan Finley catches the Snitch; and C) a stray Bludger hits Sirius.
But as I said, I notice only Alice slapping Ava.
If I'm to be really really honest here, I didn't really make an effort to stop Ali.
The Gryffindors around me all stand are start cheering, and I join in on the cheering, even as Frank is holding a shaking Alice tightly against himself. I am very loyal to my house, but at the moment, I'm cheering at how Ava's sitting down on her seat, looking shocked, clutching a hand to her cheek.
And then the tenor of the cheering changes, and I finally turn around to face the pitch, to see that there's a figure next to the hoops, lying on the sand. It takes me a moment to realise that it's Sirius.
"Oh God, that looks nasty," says one of the Fourth Years from somewhere behind me, and I can't but help agree.
All the players have flown down to the ground and they're standing in a circle around Sirius, and I'm wondering what I should do, when I see Remus and Peter run across the pitch – they must've climbed down at record speed.
Moments later, I can see James arguing with Madam Hooch and the Ravenclaw captain. It looks like James is yelling, so I lean out and grab the shoulder of the Third Year in front of me.
"What happened?"
"Oh, didn't you see? Just as Jon caught the Snitch, the Ravenclaw Beater, Johnson, sent a foul shot at Black. And now Potter's arguing that Ravenclaw be penalised. But the match is already over, so Ravenclaw can't be penalised. Look, they're taking Black to the hospital wing!" she squeaks excitedly, and I nod my head.
"We won, right?" I ask her, because Hooch seems to be talking with both captains very seriously.
"That's what Piques announced, but Madam Hooch hasn't announced it yet," she tells me, her eyes narrowing.
After five more minutes of complete angry yelling from the audience, nonchalant shrugs from the Ravenclaw captain, sagely nods from Hooch and wayward hand gestures from a furious James, Madam Hooch announces the result.
"Gryffindor wins."
As the cheers fill the stadium, Third Year I'm sort of holding hostage starts smiling coyly.
"What's wrong?" I ask her, because she's flushing like crazy. I think she needs medical help.
"Nothing's wrong. I knew my Jon could do it," she says breathily.
"Your Jon?" I ask her, with some trepidation.
"Yes, don't you know? He's my boyfriend," she tells proudly and I sit down promptly on my seat, my head light.
What is the world coming to? Thirteen year olds now have boyfriends? What the actual f –
"Do you think James would rather bang Sirius than you?" comes a snide voice from my left side, and without even turning, I push Ava away.
;;
I try to stifle a giggle, as there's a loud hiss and the picture is captured. People aren't supposed to be up to no good in the hospital wing, but this is what you get when you hang out with these four, I guess. Or rather, these three, seeing as Sirius is still busy sleeping.
James had managed to persuade Marlene and me into braiding pink ribbons into Sirius' hair, as he slept. And now, Peter is taking pictures from different angles. Remus wants to title the series 'Sleeping Beauty'. It's pretty funny.
I mean, I'd thought James would be really worried about Sirius, seeing as they're like Damon and Pythias, but apparently, James wants to get back at Sirius for saying something stupid, or something along those lines – I'll never understand how teenage boys work.
Normally, I would have left with the other Gryffindors some two hours back, but Peter had implied that being the girl James is dating, I need to be here for moral support. And being the supportive best friend that Marlene is, she'd volunteered to stay back as well.
And Alice? Probably off confronting Frank somewhere.
"So remind me, why are we doing this again?" asks Marly.
"It's called getting back, love," says James, sitting right next to me on Sirius' bed.
Let me set the scene: Sirius, the poor thing, sleeping peacefully on the pristine white hospital bed, with a pale blue coverlet; Marly and I, the two amoral friends, sitting on the bed on either side of the poor boy, taking a break from being hairdressers; and James, the Quidditch Captain, sitting next to me, right next to me, so close to me, that his leg is flush against mine.
I eye how close he is to me, and I feel my face flush – I probably look like a tomato.
It doesn't help matters that he's now put an arm around me, around my waist in particular, and my face is frozen with the smile I had earlier. It feels awkwardly delicious – oh Merlin, am I even making sense?
If simply proximity makes me feel this way, how would a kiss feel? How would something more feel? I can feel my cheeks flaming – warmer than before.
Remus clears his throat noisily, and I turn around to catch him throw me a mischievous grin.
Whatever.
"He's going to get back at you as well, you know?" says Marlene, bringing my head out of that daze I'd thrown myself into.
"I'll be ready for it," James says confidently, leaning sideways and planting his head on my shoulder.
I sit still and try not to explode, and try not to think about all those hard pectoral muscles pressed agaisnt me.
;;
"Frank and I are taking a break," Alice says, dropping her head back onto her pillow. The three of us are sprawled on Ali's bed, thanks to an expansion charm.
"But wait, I don't get it. You said Ava and Frank kissed before he started dating you, right?" asks Marlene.
"Yeah, but it's time we took a step back and revisited our priorities."
Okay, what the fuck is Alice blathering on about? Honestly, I don't understand. Revisiting priorities, seriously?
"But–"
"No buts, Marlene," she says sternly.
"Ali, Frank didn't cheat on you. You get that, right?" I ask her slowly, as if I'm speaking to a two year old.
"It doesn't matter!" Alice screeches, in a manner typical of her.
"But it does. It's great that you guys are pausing your relationship or whatever, but you can't hold Frank accountable for whom he dated or just snogged before you."
"Yeah," chimes in Marlene. "You're being so unreasonable. I can't believe the fact that I'm even supporting that guy, but seriously, he hasn't done anything wrong."
"I don't care. And this topic is closed from further discussion," she says in an icy voice, and I rub my face into the pillow, trying to smell the faint jasmine scent further. Alice has the house elves clean her sheets in special salts her godmother imports from Turkey.
"Fine, so how did I do in today's match? Who's your favourite Chaser?" asks Marlene, changing the topic completely.
"You, of course, Marly darling. You're the most brilliant Quidditch player to ever grace the hallowed halls of Hogwarts," I coo exaggeratedly, earning an eye roll from Alice and a snort from Marlene.
"As long as you come to the matches for me but not that part-time boyfriend of yours," mutters Marlene almost too quickly for me to hear her.
"Part-time how?" I ask.
Let it be known that I have pretty sharp ears.
Alice sits up a little, resting her head on her palm, facing Marls and me sideways.
"It's just that, okay, look at it this way. Everyone knows how James used to ask Lily out every other minute, right? And he was so undeniably head over heels for her. And then all of a sudden, he just asks you out, without any preamble. I mean no one else even knew that he liked you, right? Liked you in that way, Rah."
Marlene pauses and takes a deep breath. Alice is now looking at Marlene with wide eyes, and in the fading torch light, Alice looks creepy.
"I think he's just using you to get over Lily," she says, her voice dead serious.
I open my mouth to say something, not necessarily to defend myself because I don't want to lie, but to generally misdirect her, but Alice beats me to the punch.
"You're just bitter over Gideon not trying to woo you," Ali says snippily, her nose turned up in that way that only Purebloods can, especially those of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
It takes a moment for my brain to catch up with what Alice has just said, because I'm too busy secretly celebrating over how without my having to lie to them, the conversation has taken a turn for the different.
"You mean Fabian, right?" Marlene asks slowly, enunciating every word.
"That's what I said," Alice says.
It's not what Alice said, but I'm not going to argue.
"It isn't, it really isn't," Marlene repeats her ears turning red as she glares at the other girl. I'm pretty much trying to turn invisible and camouflage with the displaced coverlet.
"You're a bitch in heat," Ali says calmly, as though she's talking about the weather.
"And you're a thoroughly fucked cunt who doesn't know her arse from her tits," replies Marlene just as calmly, as though someone has just asked her how many sugar cubes she has with her tea.
If my mother were here, she'd probably have rinsed both their mouths with Qwikeasy Kitchen Cleaner, and then Obliviated me or something. I think the orthodox Purebloods, like the Rosiers, look down upon swearing and cussing and such. I guess you can take the witch out of the Pureblood society, but not the Pureblood society out of the witch. Unless, of course, you're Alice on PMS.
Anyway, when I zone back into the conversation, Alice is saying, "You slither in into Slytherin's bed just to give his snake some head," with a maniacal grin on her face.
The grin on Marlene's face is just as maniacal.
"You lick Merlin's soppy, saggy, hairy balls as a hobby."
I wrinkle my nose and quietly roll off the bed to leave the dorms, so that those two can make up in the weird way they do.
I sometimes feel I'm the only sane person around.
;;
I'm about to knock on the door which has the number 6 painted on it, when it opens and I find myself face-to-face with a shirtless James.
"Er..."
My mind goes blank, and I gape at him, as he grins at me. His grin isn't his usual charming little grin which makes his cheek dimple so adorably – this is a straight out sexy smirk worn only by a guy who knows he looks fan-fucking-tastic without a shirt on.
"Why don't you come in?" he asks, taking me by the elbow and pulling me in. Somewhere in between my feeling the warmth of his hand and my feeling the warmth of his chest as I collide with him, I remember to shut my mouth.
I take a step back and observe him looking at me with this mildly curious expression on his face, and all I want to say is lalalalalala.
However, some small rational part of my brain which hasn't been overrun by female hormones makes its presence known when I say, "Wear a shirt."
"What?"
I clear my throat and try speaking louder this time.
"Could you please wear a shirt?"
By now, I'm positive my face looks like Hades' pit of fire.
"Looks like the infallible Davies princess has finally fallen," he says, winking, as he walks backward to his bed and pulls a Gryffindor Quidditch tee from it.
"Wait, what do you mean infallible princess?" I ask, my rationality restored as James finally is fully clothed.
"Guys talk, you know, about witches and stuff like that, and I believe it was Sirius who called you an infallible princess."
"Why?" I ask bewildered, as I sit on the nearest bed that's made. The dorm is like a typical boys' dorm. It's horribly messy but there's this charm to it – the posters of Quidditch teams and bands are there all around the room, some still, some moving. I recognise a couple of still Playboy pictures near the bed I'm sitting on, and I figure it's Sirius' bed – he's the only one rakish enough to have a Playboy subscription, even if he technically has zero Muggle influence.
"Sirius had a conspiracy theory that you never dated anyone because you had some secret betrothal with the wealthiest wizard in Europe, and that's why you always turned down dates."
"Wait, what? When have I ever turned down a date? I've never been asked out before you! And your thing wasn't even real!"
"Joe McIntyre from Ravenclaw asked you if you wanted to look for DADA books with him in Hogsmeade, and you turned him down so casually," James says, gracefully falling back on his bed. His actions draw my attention to the drawstring pants he's wearing that hangs from his hips so–
I'm getting distracted again.
"That was him asking me out? What do you even mean?"
"Well, why do you think he always talks to you in the library. He fancies you. Big time."
Joe talks to me because he likes me? Is that why he'd helped me with the wand alarm?
"Ah, I can see the light turn on in your head, Sarah," he says, folding his arms and placing them behind his head, turning his face towards me. I can see the hint of a coy smile forming on his face.
"How did you even know I talk to Joe? Our conversations are private for the most part," I say slowly, my eyes narrowing as I say those words.
"I have eyes and ears all over Hogwarts," he says smarmily, without batting an eyelid.
"You could have easily found out about my talking to Joe, I mean, that's no secret or anything of that sort. But how do you know what exactly he said?"
An expression which is best described as a grimace passes over James' face, before he shakes his head and smiles at me.
"Well?" I prompt him.
"Don't get mad, okay?"
"Okay?" I say uncertainly. I have a feeling that I'm not going to quite like what James has to say.
"We were just curious about whether you were in a secret relationship with McIntyre, so we might have followed you to the library?" he says, his voice almost squeaking towards the end.
"And?" I ask, making my voice dangerously low.
"And we might have ended up overhearing how you so callously broke his heart by being oblivious?" he says, and I throw the pillow next to me at him.
"That's good aim, Sarah, want to join the Quidditch team?" he asks, a sheepish grin on his face.
"Do you realise that that was an invasion of privacy? And honestly, how can the four of you be so gossipy – like more gossipy than the old women who make up the horticulturists' society in my neighbourhood?" I tell him firmly.
"I know it was wrong, but I couldn't–"
I interrupt him, not wanting to hear his excuse. "Why wouldn't you tell me that Joe fancied me? I mean, as a friend, you're obliged to tell me."
"Joe McIntyre is a pansy of the first order, and none of us, as your friends, wanted to see you with him," he says arrogantly, and I glare at him till he gets up and comes and sits next to me.
"C'mon love, don't be like that. I'm saying sorry," he says, trying to lift my chin up with his fingers. I continue to glare at him.
"I've never had a real boyfriend. That could have been my chance, you know?"
"But it's not like you fancied him, right? Otherwise you wouldn't have agreed to this," he reasons with me, and the thing is, it's true. I can't see Joe that way, ever. Remember how I've told you before that my crushes have been fleeting and temporary?
"Regardless, you should have told me. Maybe I want to be with a guy who likes me," I say. It's something I'd never say to anyone – probably except David, but still – it's definitely not something I'd ever share even with Alice and Marlene. They'd look at me with pity, and that's not something I want.
"See, now I feel terrible because it feels like I'm using you in this whole thing. Are you sure there's nothing I could do for you?" he asks, his hand having dropped from my chin onto the bed, where he's playing with my fingers.
"Maybe you could help me out in Transfiguration?" I ask quietly.
"You definitely need the help – you're awful at it," he says, grinning at me, the serious expression that had been on his face just moments before disappearing all together.
I punch him in the arm, though there's this hint of a smile that's about to break out on my face.
"You want to smile, you know it," he cajoles me, and I give him the tiniest, quickest smile, before sticking my tongue out at him.
He laughs and all I can think is how carefree it sounds – how it doesn't sound like the laugh of a boy– man who's been hopelessly in love for quite some time now.
It makes me wonder which is more demotivating – being in love and being rejected at every other moment, or not having had the chance to fall in love, ever.
But then I remember that I'm only sixteen, and that I have my whole life in front of me, and so I shake my head and join in on the laughing.
;;
Guest reviews:
Bristol: And seeing a review from you and knowing that you still read this makes me equally happy. :) Thank you for reading. :)
Guest: Life has its ups and downs is what I've learnt. Yes, I'm all right, thanks for asking. :)
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jafcbutterfly: I hope you didn't have to wait for too long. ;)
AN: My favourite chapter so far, because, well, shirtless James. Leave me reviews the way you'd give shirtless James dollar bills to pole dance?
AN, the second: I was ready to post this chapter in December, but lost content twice because of tech problems. At this point, I can't remember any more than this of what I wrote. Much of shirtless James was lost in that second glitch. *sighs* Please do give my demotivated muse some love.
Quick question: If I were to post pictures, relevant links and general trivia about this story on Tumblr, how interested would you be?