Rain. And rain. Thought James restlessly as he sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, waiting for Padfoot. And more rain. Does the weather know how to do anything else? After three solid days of being stuck inside--stuck inside without Quidditch--bored didn't even begin to cover it. His usual pass times--following Lily, trying to get Lily's attention, asking Lily out--were no longer available to him. He was finally going out with Lily Evans. Saturday. He could only hope that the rotten weather didn't ruin all of his carefully laid plans. Even hexing Snivellus wasn't an option--the greasy git seemed to know the effect the weather was likely to have on James and Sirius--and was somehow managing to avoid them. Even with the map. James was certain if he didn't find a diversion, and soon, he was never going to last till Saturday.
"Hey mate." Sirius flopped into a nearby chair, slinging his legs over the arm .
"Hey." James sighed.
"Ready for Saturday?" Sirius wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
"You're ruddy insane, you know that?" James replied, grinning.
"Yep. So are you ready?"
"I've been ready for years." James replied dramatically. "But if I don't get a little sport, I'm never going to survive until then!"
Sirius swung around in his chair and leaned forward. "Then I have the answer to your prayers right here." He patted a scroll in his pocket. James leaned forward eagerly.
"I'm game."
"Really?" Padfoot replied skeptically. "Because I was under the impression that you were too busy worrying about Evans to be up for anything else."
James eyes narrowed. "I said I'm game."
Sirius grinned. "Good. 'Cause I've been planning this for months and I can't do it alone." He drew out the scroll. "Specialis Revelio!" Words began to populate on the seemingly blank scroll. James' eyes widened as he read it.
"Padfoot." He said in awe. "It's bloody brilliant! If we pull this off..."
"We'll be legends." Sirius finished, nodding.
"Are you planning on letting Moony or Wormtail in?"
"Nah. Wormtail would only wet himself and Moony...Moony would say that this crosses the line."
"Well, it's brilliant! When do we do it?"
"Tomorrow. Unless," Sirius' eyes narrowed. "You're afraid it'll upset Evans."
James shrugged. "If I don't do this, I'm bound to do something that'll upset her. It's what I do."
Sirius grinned. "Ok then, here's what we do first..."
Lily looked up from her potions calculations as James walked into their Common Room, whistling, a slight bounce in his step.
He's up to something.
How she had come to know Potter well enough to be so certain, she didn't stop to analyze. It didn't matter how. The point was, she knew. The question was, what?
He stopped mid-way to his dorm, seeming to be torn between saying something to her and interrupting her, or continuing past and appearing to be ignoring her.
She decided to help him out. "Afternoon, Potter." She said. He jumped slightly, clearly not expecting her to give him the time of day.
"Hi Lily." He ran his hands through his hair. "Working on an assignment?"
She almost smiled. Since when was Potter so nervous around her?
"Not really. No. Just a little something for my own amusement. The rain is driving me ruddy insane." She paused, arching an eyebrow. "But I'm sure you know nothing about little extra-curricular...projects...to pass the time?"
He stared at her for a few moments then grinned, widening his eyes and feigning an expression of extreme innocence. "Me? Why Lily I'm shocked. Shocked that you would insinuate such a thing about the Head Boy!"
Definitely up to something.
She threw a book at him, which he dodged easily.
"Now, now, Lily. Is that any way to treat such an old and valuable tome from our hallowed library? I'd have thought better of our Head Girl."
She stood, walking over toward him. "Why Potter," she purred, dropping her voice to a husky tone. "Once again you underestimate me." She bent over casually to retrieve the book, well aware that Potter's appreciative eyes were fixated on the expanse of skin on the back of her thigh made bare as her skirt slid up slightly. She thought she heard an intake of breath, but when she turned around he appeared as arrogant as ever.
"Trust me, Lily, there is no way I could ever underestimate you."
She could have sighed with vexation. He was on to her. It was pointless to keep fishing for information, she simply wasn't going to get it out of him. She pivoted again, flinging her hair over her shoulder and returning to her chair.
"So I see."
He cast her a glance that was almost regretful.
"Well, I guess I should be...going." He backed up a few paces.
"Of course." was her curt reply.
He stopped. "Ah, Lily, don't be sore. I'd tell you if I could."
A slight smile curved her lips. "I'm sure you would."
James slid into a chair beside Sirius, ignoring the usual breakfast bustle going on around them.
"So do you think it'll work?" He whispered.
Padfoot grinned.
"Oh yeah. They bought it. All we have to do now is wait."
As James grinned back, an owl coasted into the Great Hall, dropping an envelope next to Dumbledore's plate. The Headmaster picked up the envelope, turning it over in his hands and preparing to break the seal. Before he could do so, another owl drifted in, dropping a second envelope. Then another. And another. Before long the Hall was filled with owls, most of which were dropping envelopes on the professor's table, and the rest of whom were dropping off copies of the Daily Prophet to those students who had a subscription. An owl hovered before Sirius, dropping a copy of the Prophet, which Sirius caught. Casting a glance over to the Head Master, who was now nearly buried in envelopes, he grinned.
Sirius whistled casually as he unfolded the paper with a snap, and immediately began laughing.
All around the hall, students were reading The Prophet, some laughing, some gasping, and all passing the copies along to their mates who had no subscription.
James leaned over and choked on his pumpkin juice as he began to laugh. The Prophet had certainly gone out of their way. It really was a touching tribute:
Transfiguration Legend, Hogwarts Professor, Dead
It is with heavy hearts that the staff of the Daily Prophet inform our circulation audience that Hogwarts Professor, Head of Gryffindor House, and renowned Master of Transfiguration, the esteemed Professor Minerva McGonagall, passed late yesterday afternoon from complications steaming from rusticanus.
According to our sources, rusticanus is a disease characterized by redness and burning of the eyes and the inside of the mouth, both the throat and tongue, causing an immediate expelling of an unusually foul breath. Following these comes bilious vomiting and, in most cases, an empty heaving ensues that produces a strong spasm. The flesh, although neither especially hot nor pale, is reddish, livid, and budding out in small blisters and ulcers.
While extremely rare, rusticanus is most often fatal. Sources inside Hogwarts report that, in the case of the Professor, the disease progressed too rapidly for St.Mungo's to be notified.
Reactions among the Hogwarts student body range from sorrow to devastation, as the young wizards struggle to come to terms with the loss of a woman who played such an active role in their daily lives. Seventh Year student and member of the Gryffindor House, Sirius Black, had this to say: "Professor McGonagall was a staple of Hogwart's life. It's hard to imagine continuing on without her." To Head Boy James Potter, Professor McGonagall was more than an instructor and House Head, she was a friend and mentor: "Minerva McGonagall taught me more than just Transfiguration, she taught me about life. It's a loss I don't think Hogwarts or the Wizarding community will ever truly recover from."
Hogwarts Head Master, Albus Dumbledore could not be reached for comment at this time.
Next to the article, the Prophet had printed a picture of McGonagall at her sternest, glaring down her glasses, her face set in a stony expression, her hands folded across her chest.
"Remind me again where we found 'rusticanus' ?" Sirius asked, still laughing.
"We...made...it...up." James managed to say through his laughter.
At the professor's table, Dumbledore had opened and apparently read several of the piles of letters, while McGonagall was looking at a copy of the Prophet someone had passed her. McGonagall stood up abruptly, crushing the unfortunate copy in her hand, and James decided that Padfoot was right--McGonagall did turn some interesting colors when she was mad.
"Potter! Black! My office. Now!"
James and Sirius rose from the table together, sauntering casually across the Great Hall towards McGonagall's office, still struggling to control their laughter.
"Never, ever, in all of my years as Hogwarts Professor and Head of Gryffindor House, did I ever expect to have to call the Head Boy into my office!" She glared down her spectacles at James. "From Mr. Black, I would have expected such a thing--"
"Hey!" Sirius protested. McGonagall pointed her wand at him. "Langlock!"
Sirius' mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Putting away her wand, she continued.
"But you, James Potter, were entrusted with a position of high responsibility and respect in this school--a position that many felt you did little to earn. Do you know why you were chosen as Head Boy, Mr.Potter, when there were many young men--prefects--who were just as qualified and didn't have your long history of detention?"
James shrugged, avoiding her gaze.
"You were chosen because, aside from having extremely high marks, your fellow students respect you. They listen to you and look up to you. And yet you have betrayed that sacred trust!" McGonagall began to pace behind her desk. "I should strip you of your title. I should give you detention every day for the rest of the year. I should ban you from Quidditch for the rest of your existence." She stopped and glared at him. "I should, but I won't."
James looked up at her, eyes wide with amazement.
"I've grown quite accustomed to having the Quidditch Cup grace my shelves and I have no intention of handing it over to Horace." The edges of her mouth curved into a barely discernible smile. "Instead, since both of you appear to have far too much time on your hands, I'm enrolling both of you, effective immediately, into my Transfiguration class."
Waving her wand, she banished the curse on Sirius.
"But Professor McGonagall!" Sirius moaned. "We'll be hopelessly behind! It'll take ages to get caught up!"
This time McGonagall did smile. "Precisely."
Lily watched as Potter and Black left the Great Hall, followed closely by the furious McGongall, trying her hardest not to laugh. She was Head Girl. She couldn't laugh. It wasn't respectful or dignified. But she wanted to. Where in Merlin's name had they come up with such a thing? And how? Faking an mediwitch certified obituary must have taken an incredible level of skill-- skill Lily could admire. And it wasn't as though anyone was hurt by it, not really. Which brought her back to...wanting to laugh. Taking active control of her features, she schooled her expression into a careful mask of indifference.
"Tragic isn't it?" Isa said, a grin crossing her face, her voice smug.
"Yes." Grumbled Delia, rummaging through the pockets of her robes. Fishing out a galleon she placed it in Isa's open palm.
"What--?" Lily asked, looking from one to the other.
"I bet Delia a galleon that Potter would do something to screw it up before mid-week." Isa grinned triumphantly.
"Stupid, ruddy Potter." was Delia's response. She turned to Lily. "So I guess this means it's off, huh?"
Lily met Delia's blue eyes in amazement.
"What's off?"
"Your date. With Potter. Surely you won't still be going out with him after that." Delia pointed to the discarded copy of the Prophet laying on the table next to Lily's plate.
Lily shrugged. "Don't see why not..."
Isa and Delia both turned to her as one. "You can't be serious!"
Lily shot them a look, her eyes suddenly narrowed and dangerous. "I can and am."
"Amortentia. Has to be!" Isa muttered.
Delia nodded. "Either that or the Imperius curse."