Author's Note: Hey people (new and old). So, if you are an old fan of this story that's just...amazing at this point. As you many know, summer rekindles these stories (this and my other HP tale, if you like Next Gen Lily check it out) for me because I'm off work and slightly more motivated. Life has been a slog lately so this may be a blip but basically this is two scenes that are not at all connected, but just happened to be what came next. Please feel free to critique/review! I'd be thrilled to hear it.
The Thursday night following, what everyone was calling, the "Honeydukes Incident", saw James and Heather plodding their usual patrol route through the castle. They had just broken up their 4th young couple snogging in a 7th floor broom cupboard and were moving on up to the next floor for a final sweep before getting off duty. Knowing the way instinctively, Heather found herself lost in thought. What were the slim odds of catching four couples in the same cupboard on four separate checks in the same evening? Clearly it was becoming a popular spot, as they had also caught two couples in it during Tuesday's patrol. She was halfway up a rickety wooden staircase shortcut they used all the time, when she suddenly heard James swearing loudly below her.
The witch turned with a start (she hadn't realized he was no longer at her side), to see him knee deep in a trick step and impatiently trying to yank himself loose. Heather's surprise about tripled in a heartbeat. To her knowledge, Hogwarts greatest current mischief maker had never been felled by one of the castle's simplest tricks before! James, more than anyone, had taken these small quirks and memorized them so that they never unexpectedly spoiled his pranks. But on the other hand, Heather was also keenly aware of the fact that James hadn't been himself today. He'd been brooding and distracted since breakfast on account of the fact that it was Lily's birthday. Despite the occasion, she was still stubbornly refusing to talk to him. The second year didn't even want him at her party, which was currently taking place in the Room of Requirement.
"Bloody freaking step!" snarled James, pounding angrily on the one above it.
Doubling back a few steps, Heather said tentatively, "Do you need my help getting out?"
The raven-haired boy just shook his head stubbornly and pushed off against the wood once more. Using his considerable upper body strength, he finally managed to haul himself free on his fourth attempt.
Heather waited until he had climbed up to her level before the two prefects set off walking in the same silence that had plagued them all evening. In truth, she didn't know what to say or do around James tonight (in that regard the Muggleborn was as off her game as he was). Usually, patrolling with him was a blast. When they'd come upon students during patrol, James normally tried to reason with them and ask what they were doing wandering about after curfew. He would only punish multiple offenders and, most of the time, it was with a few measly house points rather than a detention. Tonight however, James had already sent a third year boy and girl from Ravenclaw scurrying back to bed with 2 detentions and 15 points lost apiece. Their crime: loudly practicing their charms work in an empty classroom.
"Look," started Heather finally, "I'm not exactly up for another run-in with those two sods who were trying to deface that statue of Horace the Hefty…that is if their still there… and I gather you aren't either. Want to call it an early night? Worst case scenario, Horace the Hefty has buck teeth and an amputated ear tomorrow." She glanced his way and attempted, what she hoped came off as, a winning smile.
James merely shrugged ambivalently, it wasn't as if he had anywhere to be or anything.
"Do you have your cloak on you?" pressed Heather sportingly, "I bet the Astronomy tower is free, as its past curfew and all. Remember what Professor Rustenberg said in class Monday? About that total lunar eclipse tonight? I'm sure the school telescopes would even pick it up okay."
"I gave Fred the cloak for the thing tonight," said James dully.
Shit, thought Heather, that's that plan basically scuppered. She was still desperate to cheer her friend up however, so maybe going up there without the cloak would be worth the risk? At least they had his precious map to help them skirt trouble, as they used it every patrol. "Well, how about a look up there anyway? We could pretend we we're looking for extra credit if we get caught!" she joked brightly, trying to extract from him a glimmer of his infectious smile.
But James Sirius Potter refused to be amused, as he was currently sulking over the new thought that Lily had probably thrown the leather satchel in the fireplace upon reading the tag. He had sent the present along to the party with Fred and the others, after deciding it was best not to deliver it to her in person. As much as he was hurt over her continued shunning at this point, he still didn't think it would be right to stir up a fuss with his presence on her special day. In fact, Lily had actually been having a great 13th birthday. Well, as far as he could tell from a safe distance away that is.
At breakfast this morning, she had received a stunningly handsome black and white owl from their parents (Lily had passed on an owl last year due to not finding the 'one'), along with a tin of their mum's best treacle tart. As it had trickled down to him by word of mouth, where he sat at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table, the redhead had decided to name the male owl Pongo. James had a vague idea that Lily had gotten this odd name from a Muggle story she'd loved as a child.
That was something about her childhood that her oldest brother remembered vividly, Lily sitting with her legs dangling out of their treehouse and her nose in a book. It'd use to drive their mum spare with worry, her seven-year-old daughter hanging out of the high oak tree with barely a thought to be had over her own safety. James, about ten at the time, had always been at his most gallant when periodically 'rescuing' his little sister from her high 'prison'.
Whenever their mum had decided enough was enough, he'd fly her out of fictional and actual harm's way on his broomstick. Their escape route had always taken on different, impromptu sections (Lily was a stickler for variety), while still including skimming their feet in the family pool, weaving through the branches in the orchard (the clutches of their imaginary pursuers) and flying through someone's bedroom window in the end. The raven-haired wizard had been driven to nostalgically pondering these bygone days (all the while pushing his sausages and eggs around his plate) just after hearing the new owl's moniker and his friends hadn't had much success getting him out of his funk since.
Needless to say, Lily hadn't been stuck on the past as well. This morning's post had also brought her cards from most of the relatives, a new pygmy puff from the store's new breed (courtesy of Uncle George) and a box of French chocolates from Uncle Bill and Aunt Fleur, the latter whom always insisted that the Swiss had nothing on French chocolatiers. According to Albus, who had sat with Lily at breakfast, the so far nameless pygmy puff was female and all it did was coo at Casper happily. James was inexplicably curious now whether male and female pygmy puffs mated or anything. He'd thought up until today, that the blissful little creatures were perhaps asexual or something.
In the end though, it was hard to muster up any enthusiasm over Lily's new pets or honestly…anything that represented her birthday at all. He hadn't been involved in the planning or executing of even one thing, whether it was hanging up streamers and blowing up balloons in the Room of Requirement after lessons with Rose and Rox, or accompanying Fred to the kitchens in order to ask the house elves to bake the double chocolate cake. In fact, he was certain that he hadn't been this uninvolved with his sister's birthday probably since he was like 6 and she was just turning 3. Surely, that was enough to cause any bloke to sink into a state of depression.
"C'mon James, buck up a bit!" pleaded Heather kindly, snapping him reluctantly back to the present, "I know it's awful that Lily still hasn't forgiven you, but it has to get better." The incredulous wizard glanced at her in shock upon registering her genuine tone. She actually believed what she was saying.
"How can you be so sure?" he retorted bitterly. He turned away from her as they stood at the top of the stairs and gazed moodily down at the floors below.
"Your sister loves you James. That's how I'm sure!" argued Heather firmly, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.
When the young boy turned to face her, she saw his hazel eyes glassed over with hurt. His voice came out gruff when he said, "I love her too. But I can't change what's been done and... I would have done it the same way... even knowing what I do now! I must seem like a horrible person putting my obsession with winning ahead of my family. But my decision pleased more people than it hurt. And that's how I sleep at night." He gave a weird half shrug, which succeeded in removing himself from her grasp, and cast his eyes to the carpet.
"Well, I don't think anyone's terribly pleased about the whole thing really," began Heather honestly. If James wanted someone to blindly lie and yes at him, he'd have to look elsewhere. She crossed her arms and stared at him.
Thankfully, that statement eventually spurned the brooding wizard to look into her eyes again. When he did, Heather could almost physically feel the force of the confusion and hurt coming off of him. His subtext was quite plain. Surely, somebody had to be benefitting from his decision, or else he was truly miserable for nothing.
"Do you actually think Tristan and Keira feel good about being on the team while you and Lily are fighting over it?" continued Heather gamely (She refused to back off yet, no matter how much witnessing his current state was twisting her up inside), "I know for a fact Keira would rather quit than cause a longer Potter family war!" She finally stopped and gnawed at her lip, biting back the guilt. Heather hated fights. She hated having to dive into conflicts where the injured parties didn't know the whole story. She hated having to be the messenger that caused their current grip on a situation to get even rockier. The Muggleborn stood there awkwardly, inwardly chiding herself until her good sense again returned. Sometimes, people just had to know.
"Well that's just ridic…why wouldn't they want…she hasn't told me that!" spluttered James in surprise.
"And why would she?" rebutted Heather, feeling surprisingly incredulous herself (she'd never had to connect the dots for James before, of all people), "Furthermore… how would she even begin to tell you?" She was suddenly conscious of the fact that they weren't exactly being quiet. Frankly, it was a blessing that it was past curfew, as they might have had an audience otherwise.
"Fine!" snapped James, "I get it! But... it doesn't even matter anyway, because my knowing this doesn't change a thing. Keira is on the team and Lily isn't. I won't be pressured into changing my mind! Not today, not five minutes before we play Slytherin, not five minutes after, not at all. Everyone needs to move on and realize I can't make everything the way it was before my decision. And also…quitting? She'd really do that to me? What if my sister didn't decide to take up the empty spot out of spite? We'd be screwed." He had now taken to pacing back and forth on the landing and gesturing with his arms in her direction.
"Can you really move on?" probed Heather gently, ignoring the last bit about Keira. She'd already said more than she should have on that front. As it was, she'd be lucky if her friend talked to her for the rest of the week after her overshare of the girl's semi-private feelings.
"I think…" started James slowly, beginning to calm down a bit, "…the better question is... can Lily move on? Because… then so can I. But I won't move on without her." The young wizard said this like he'd be abandoning his little sister on a public train platform to fend off kidnappers if he let her stew in this mess without him. He stopped pacing and leaned his back against the railing at the top of the stairs. She snuck a glance at him, taking in his messier than usual hair, the crease of frustration on his brow and his wide, lost eyes.
Heather sighed heavily, finally bowled over by James's vulnerability tonight. Sure, he was riling her up a bit with the whole naïve, poor-me routine. But that was because… that wasn't like her James. In fact, right now he wasn't even public image James, the guy who woke up every morning cloaked in an armor of jokes and charm.
That armored James Sirius Potter was the one all the girls practically begged to date. They wanted the Quidditch hero with the unflinching good looks… or even just the charming boy whose father was the most famous wizard of all time. Really, just mix and match any of the above, depending on the girl. Sometimes, they even realized James was smarter than he let on. It was totally a bonus when their snog buddy could help them write their Transfiguration essay. What killed Heather, was how none of them valued James's other virtues. There was his loyalty and determination to protect those he cared about (even it meant sacrificing himself), his ability to put his pride aside and ask for help or his desire to always cheer people up with a prank.
Unlike other girls, Heather saw his sincerity. That was what his friends were so loyal to. That was the James she could see him growing up into! That is, once he stopped trying so hard to be "the man" all the time. That was the James she loved. It all almost struck Heather as funny just now. In the past, she'd simply allowed those moments of James's realness to slide by, like they weren't important. Almost as if thinking, so what if his guard was down? It would surely go back up before anyone else could actually notice.
But this time, almost crazily, she wanted burst out and tell him that this was what matters. Sure, James was obviously a terrific guy on the surface. But he didn't have to pretend he was infallible or immune to getting himself into difficult situations. How could he be? His life was more complicated than that of most boys his age because he never shied away from the challenges and the tough choices. Heather admired James for his willingness to show his faults right along with his successes.
Although Heather had never really allowed herself to think of her male friends as possible romantic partners before… it was creeping up on her now. She was a part of James's life as a friend, but suddenly that role wasn't quite as big the new one she had in mind. Of course, a desperate girl would have attempted to act on her feelings immediately. Heather, on the other hand, wasn't too smitten to recognize her timing was bad. She wisely put thoughts of her and James as a couple out of her mind and focused on being a good friend to him, because that's what he needed most.
It was another testament to his moroseness that her internal monologue had gone wholly unnoticed. "Well, unfortunately Lily's acceptance of the situation isn't something that can be solved tonight," the witch started carefully, "But I still think we should go up to the Astronomy Tower for a while and hang out, because no one's going to be missing us back in the common room. The others aren't going to come back from the party until much later and we don't have anything big due for classes tomorrow."
"Just a History of Magic quiz," mentioned James, shrugging dully.
"Yea, you really got to watch out for those History of Magic quizzes..." said Heather lightly, "Screwing up one of those will ruin your life."
James almost smiled. "I still need to take a look at someone's class notes for this one," he said seriously.
"I hope you weren't just suggesting you study for H.O.M instead of wandering about the castle after dark. Because... then I might have to wonder if you've been replaced by a James impersonator instead of just moody James!" the witch replied incredulously. He shook his head a bit shamefully. She was cracking him, she could feel it.
"Of course you can look at my notes at breakfast tomorrow," Heather continued easily, "And... most importantly...when's the next time you're going to catch me suggesting we break some school rules?" She met his hazel eyes and begged silently.
James made a show of pursing his lips and ruffling his hair, but the Muggleborn had finally won him. A load seemingly came off his shoulders as he nodded and jerked his head toward their destination. He'd never know it, but his eventual grudging participation in this late evening star gazing and buffoonery would be the highlight of Heather's week.
Hours later, James crept quietly into his darkened dormitory actually smiling to himself. He put on his pajama bottoms and long sleeved t-shirt using only a pale strip of moonlight shining in through the window and slipped into bed, barely rustling the covers. Under no circumstances was waking the others needed or wanted. God forbid they ruin his mood with stories of what they'd seen or heard at the party.
What James would have noticed had he bothered to turn on a light, was a small envelope that bore his name written in a delicate hand. Lying on the pillows of his four poster, the note was in shadow from the window and when he entered the bed and closed the hangings, the youth lay down on the wrong side to feel it with his head. In the night as he slept, James thrashed about and twisted his covers into a snarled heap. His arm ended up knocking the note off the bed and onto the floor where fell between his night stand and bedpost, partially under the four poster and out of sight.
In the morning, James would not see the letter as he rushed to and fro getting ready for the school day. Thus, he wouldn't know that Lily had written him to suggest they talk about their fight. He would ignore the hopeful glances that turned to cold stares from her at breakfast, as he hurriedly read Heather's notes on the giant-goblin wars of the last century. James's accidental obliviousness would end up prolonging his and Lily's fight... but it was a long time before he knew any of this. At the moment the wizard fell asleep, he was just content to have spent a few hours ignoring the situation in the company of one of his best friends.
Soon October waned at Hogwarts and the days began to shorten considerably, darkening the castle grounds at near 6 o'clock. This was leaving the Quidditch teams predictably desperate for pitch time, especially the Gryffindors and Slytherins, whose opening match of the year was only eleven days away. James had finally turned into the fanatical Quidditch captain the others had fervently hoped he wouldn't become. He had gotten the team up at 5 am the last three mornings in order to beat the Slytherins to the pitch for some practice before classes. And yesterday, under the cover of his cousin's invisibility cloak, Louis had even lured the Slytherin captain Reese Craven into a broom closet and locked him in until after breakfast so that his team couldn't train. Because, as the clever and dutiful Weasley had later said in his defense, he'd do anything for the Gryffindor cause. The Slytherins had attempted their retaliation later that afternoon in the library, aiming to steal James's playbook from his seemingly unattended school bag. The mission had only proven unsuccessful after some impressive Stinging jinxes by Rigel Wicklow and Keira Morely saved the day. But despite these antics, Hogwarts could probably count the number of people currently thinking about Quidditch on just two hands.
As the day of the 31st dawned bright and cold, students across the castle could be seen chattering excitedly about the annual Halloween feast that would take place this evening. Because the entertainment booked for the night's festivities was always kept under wraps, speculation was abound. Some students fervently hoped for a Weird Sisters revival gig, while others passed along a rumor that Flitwick had signed a troupe of popular wizard acrobats who rode bareback hippogriff. But whatever the entertainment would be, one thing was certain. The Great Hall was decked out in its Halloween best. The enchanted ceiling depicted a stormy night and a flock of bats against a full moon when nothing like that was happening outside. Carved Jack o' Lanterns had been placed periodically up and down the house tables and some even hung suspended amongst the usual floating candles. The students noticed these embellishments at breakfast and it only served to feed their enthusiasm for the holiday. Not a soul could remember something like that ever being done to the ceiling before for starters. Their distraction then reached a climax when Headmaster Flitwick announced that there would be a surprise inter-house student dueling tournament this afternoon, before the feast. The winning house would receive a whopping 75 house points and the winning student 10 Galleons worth of Honeydukes best chocolate. The competition was open to all students no matter their year and no matter if they were already in Dueling Club or not. This lack of limitations led to an immediate frenzy of sign-ups from all the houses, as they were all eager to prove their dominance over the rest of the student body.
With only eleven days until the big match, James surprised his team by suggesting they also lend their efforts to the Gryffindor cause and enter. Reese Craven seemed to be holding out all the Slytherin players for fear of injury, something that James of course, openly mocked. After scrawling his name on the sign-up parchment the oldest Potter had looked directly at Craven, shook his head sadly and smiled. Craven however, didn't rise to the bait, simply sneering and made a rude hand gesture in response.
Taking advantage of their token opportunity to prove themselves off the pitch, Trevor, Freddy, Keira and Tristan also signed up along with their captain. Albus and Dillon both passed on the tournament, citing that they wouldn't be much help to their house in this discipline. Dillon declared an innate inability to think on his feet, whereas Albus was of the opinion that his poor aim under pressure might result in spectator injury.
James noticed that Lily was of course one of the first people in line to sign the parchment. He attempted to give her a winning smile as she doubled back past the queue on her way out of the Hall with Linus and Roxy. She, on the other hand, acted as if he was part of the general castle scenery and ignored him. James, thoroughly dumfounded by this, wondered why things seemed to be getting even worse than they had been at the start of this fight. At this rate, he feared Lily would be demanding his formal disownment from the family five minutes after they arrived home in Godric's Hollow for the Christmas holidays! He could hardly wait. Because it wasn't as if he could think of a way to avoid such a situation at this point for Merlin's sakes. If concert tickets, specialty ice cream, double birthday presents, time and space weren't enough, it was clearly safe to say nothing was. At the very least, James just hoped that Lily channeled her anger into winning her dueling pairings today, as Gryffindor was currently running second in House points to Ravenclaw. Even though they were fighting, he still wanted her to do well for their house and of course... for her own sake.
Throughout the day, James and his peers maintained the same minimum amount of effort in all their lessons as they thought ahead to either the dueling tournament or the feast. Early afternoon found the 5th year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws ready to jump out the 4th floor window of their History of Magic classroom as Professor Binns ploughed through yet another lecture on goblin uprisings. James had long since blocked out the ghost's unrelenting drone and was drawing on a scrap of parchment in the back row. He would still glance up to the front of the classroom occasionally to see the back of a familiar white-blonde head bent over his desk and scribbling frantically. Jonah was the only reason the lot of them managed to even pass this class, without his meticulous notes they'd be hopelessly lost.
That is, everyone in their group except for Heather. As James mentally conceded, she could probably get an Exceeds Expectations in H.O.M based on her own considerable abilities alone. The Muggleborn herself was currently seated directly in front of him, eyes forward and her eagle feather quill hovering over some parchment. She did not scribble frantically at every utterance from Binns' mouth like Jonah however, but instead jotted down the odd sentence here and there. James suspected that she also, like everyone else, was too distracted to care about schoolwork today. On their right, Fred was deeply unconscious (James considered it a miracle he wasn't snoring like a chainsaw). Behind the oaf, Keira thumbed indiscreetly through a book on charms and jinxes she could use in the dueling tournament later. Trevor and Rigel had skipped out separately in the middle of the lesson to "go to the bathroom" and James sincerely doubted they'd return. He also seriously doubted that Binns even recognized that "Mr. Warren" and "Miss Wilson" were still gone.
His drawing, which had started out as nothing more than an elaborate doodle, had quickly begun to take the shape of his idea for the ultimate flying car. It resembled, to the best of his sketching ability, an Aston Martin DB5, which he had once seen at a Muggle car show with his Granddad Arthur. When he was finished explicitly detailing everything from the leather seats to the type of engine (car talk with Grandad got rather specific sometimes), James finally got bored with the drawing. After all, it was only two dimensional and as much as he desperately wanted to get excited about it, he knew it was just a fantasy.
He wondered dully if Keira would possibly lend him the book on jinxes when she was finished. When it came down to it, he didn't fancy looking like a git who only knew like a couple of dumb spells this evening. As a rule however, he wasn't too stressed about the whole thing. Everyone knew he was a rock star at Quidditch, so what evidence was there to suggest Dueling would be any different? His father was Harry freaking Potter, winner of the most important duel in wizarding history. James remembered Binns himself saying so in their 2nd year. Surely, there was something in his genes that would help him here. Suddenly, James focused in on a blond boy sitting a couple of rows to his left, his head propped against the wall of the classroom. Hold the jinx book, thought James, grinning inwardly, Xander is sure to have some good tips! The happy Potter remained upbeat for the rest of lesson as he fondly remembered instances of his dorm mate's prodigious skill with his wand. Gryffindor surely had this competition in the bag.
"Hey Xander, wait up!" called James, seconds after the bell had rung.
The 5th year looked up from adjusting the strap on his schoolbag and smiled. "What's up James? Wondering if it's humanly possible to concoct a potion that could knock out a ghost… so we could get a break from this sometime?" he joked.
James caught up to him and smirked. "Is it possible?" he echoed with mild interest. The thought had never occurred to him, at least not in this way. Normal teachers got sick sometimes and gave them a lesson off, but not Professor Binns of course. Which was clearly why skiving on his class had become a natural refuge every so often. Well, that reason and the fact that it was so mind-crushingly boring.
"One of my father's most advanced books says it is," Xander shrugged, "Of course, it's a very technically advanced potion with specialized ingredients. My father barely believes or understands all the theories involved himself. He received the book as a gift in India several years ago. It also says that the potion would need to be brewed for several months, so that it's powerful enough for them to taste. But this is all information that doesn't help us in reality does it?" He smiled apologetically at his dorm mate.
James was momentarily thrown off his original topic. "The book's from India huh?" pondered the prankster, as a wrinkle of intense thought creased his brow, "I'd love to take a look at it sometime mate." Suddenly noticing that they were the last ones in the room, the two Gryffindors wordlessly took off toward the corridor.
"It's written in some ancient Indian dialect mate," smirked Xander, "That and my old man doesn't exactly leave me alone with his rare, advanced potioneer books. He only showed it to me the one time. Probably only then because I was being pig-headed about settling down here and going to real school vs. growing up in the bush some more." The muscular blond scratched the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Jungle boy," snorted James and he thumped his friend on the back teasingly, "I bet your childhood was spent barefoot and shirtless with a slingshot in your hands!"
Xander shook his head ruefully and grinned. They boys turned at the end of a corridor and jogged up a stone staircase with frayed carpeting. "Hey, I did stun my first Streeler at the age of 8!" he relayed laughing, "I was fully clothed though."
"The wand?" queried James, as his eyebrows shot to the rafters.
"I had nicked my mother's to go exploring in the dark," Xander explained slyly, "Only the huge venomous bastard had somehow managed to find its way into our camp just as I was walking out of our sleeping hut with my pack. I didn't really think about it too much...a giant snail looks creepy as hell in the dark…just took careful aim like my Dad had showed me…and two quick stunners right between the eyes later, it was down for the count. 'Course then I had to go and wake up my parents and tell them before it woke up, which ruined my plans. But that was almost enough adventure to be getting on with that night anyhow." The restless 5th year sighed happily at the memory and was reminded suddenly how quiet life had gotten these past few years. Those kappas in Japan over the summer aside of course…
James wolf whistled and his hazel eyes twinkled in admiration. He had sure picked the right person to talk dueling strategy with. "So… I assume you didn't get in trouble for being out of bed so late after all eh?" he asked. They rounded the corner one flight of stairs and a short hallway away from their Muggle Studies classroom.
Xander gave his head a proud shake. "Told my mom I'd borrowed her wand because I'd had to go to the bathroom and needed the light. I dropped my pack by my bed before I woke them too… so that never came into it," he affirmed.
James appreciated this part of the story almost as much as the action of taking on a M.O.M classification XXX magical creature. The gods of mischief-making had definitely been on the youngest Drake's side that night. "Merlin, I love your stories dude. Promise one day you'll take me out there with you?" Xander nodded readily.
"Anyway," continued James, "This proves you're just the man to see about this…you'll be in the dueling tourney later yeah?" Xander nodded again and smirked. "Good... I knew it! Well look, no one is more pleased than I to hear it… because now I know Gryffindor is coming out on top but…frankly, I could use a quick tutorial. I mean... let's face it mate, my ego is my downfall! And people won't soon forget it if I go out there and get stupefied into a wall by some 3rd year Puff because I can't my wand up in time." The dark-haired youth finally took a breath and raised his eyebrows hopefully, also giving Xander a touch of the vulnerable, puppy dog eyes he saved for emergencies.
The two 5th years stopped near the head of the stairs and Alexander Drake leaned against the bannister while biting his lip. His grey-green eyes clouded a bit as he brooded on his friend's request. James S. Potter was a goddamn school hero. Most of the boys in the school either admired him or were jealous of him. And while some of the girls might have whispered behind their hands disapprovingly over James's tendency to cut short all of his romantic relationships, to the best of everyone's knowledge, not a one had ever turned him down. Did he really need dueling tips that badly? Honestly, Xander was sort of worried. What if James took the tips and in the end used them to beat him? It wouldn't be the strangest thing that had ever happened. But… did that even matter?
The shy youth argued with himself against his pride. It shouldn't matter, he thought vehemently. James was a friend and a fellow Gryffindor. He should be happy to give him some pointers. If he ever wanted to go to the raven-haired boy for some help with his broom skills, James would be happy to oblige anyway he could. But there was something undeniably different about who James was and who he was. The oldest Potter was self-assured and popular…and Xander was not really either of those things.
Suck it up Drake, he chided himself, quit being selfish and be a friend. His finger was idly tracing the grooves in the hard, wooden bannister and he glanced up to see his dorm mate looking at him apprehensively. Thankfully the storm inside him passed, and the blond boy's face eventually broke into its usual affable smile. "Course I can help Potter. You just caught me off guard a bit there. I didn't know you had entered…. I mean what with the big Slytherin match so close and all…I just thought I had a pretty good shot at this one…" he ended in a ramble, scratching awkwardly at his ear. He was sure his mate had caught on to his reticence.
But relief was already washing over James's face and he grinned back. "Whew, golly mate you left me hanging for a minute!" He thumped the railing and sighed gratefully. "And yeah, well I couldn't let Craven and his stupid teammates keep me and the others from showing some house pride could I? Also, you know there is no way I beat you right? I'm not even in Dueling Club! You still have a terrific shot at running away with this thing for sure."
"Right mate. Appreciate you saying so," said Drake steadily, forcing down his earlier misgivings.
"So...should we start right now?" asked James, slyly quirking an eyebrow. Yea skiving Muggle Studies was wrong and all, especially because Professor Eden had her wits about her unlike a certain ghost, but she was a quiet, non-confrontational witch who didn't really take a hard line on attendance. As far as Xander was concerned, chances of ducking out getting back to his dad were slim... and that was enough motivation for him. Besides, the tournament was in less than 4 hours! Surely for a proper lesson, they needed the time. Agreeing to their mutual deception, the two boys ducked into a castle alleyway covered with tapestries and started making their way to James' ace in the hole: The Room of Requirement.