Saturday, May 22, 1976
Rule #33: Don't play dirty
Rule #34: Quidditch isn't worth dying for
"All right, team, this is it. We win this, and we win the Cup." James paced around the changing room, filled with excited energy. "I have full confidence that we can beat Ravenclaw. Their only real threat is Prewett, but as long as we stick to the strategies we've practiced, we can handle him no problem. If all else fails, just offer him a strawberry."
Seven looked at him curiously. "What?"
James chuckled and shook his head. "Never mind. Don't forget to watch out for fouls, because Ravenclaw sometimes resorts to playing dirty. And no matter what, never fucking give up, all right? This is Crash's last match, so let's make it a bloody good one!"
James led the way onto the field and approached the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain to shake hands before the match began. He studied Prewett with bemused detachment, interested to discover he felt none of the anger or disdain that he had previously experienced when he had watched Lily embracing the dark haired Ravenclaw. On the contrary, James almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
"Good luck, mate," James said, shaking his hand and flashing him a friendly grin. "Sorry about the Dungbombs and for saying I didn't like you, by the way. That was a bit rude."
The captain eyed him quizzically, then returned the smile. "It's alright, I suppose. Good luck to you as well."
As soon as the game began, the Ravenclaw players made it clear that they were, in fact, going to play dirty. Prewett was the only one relying not on egregious fouls but on his own talent. As he skillfully dodged Bludgers from both Nards and Bransnog and feinted to the right, then sent the Quaffle soaring through the left hoop before Crash could block it, James cursed under his breath but couldn't help but marvel at the other player's skill. He really is an exceptional Quidditch player, James thought as he regained possession of the Quaffle and passed it quickly to Unicorn. Pity the rest of his team is so shit.
An hour into the game, Gryffindor had gained a decent lead, and the Ravenclaw players were growing truly desperate. When Bubbles approached the goal, poised to score, one of the Ravenclaw beaters grabbed onto the back of his broom, causing him to drop the Quaffle in surprise and rage. Several minutes later, James hovered near the goal with the Quaffle raised above his head when the Ravenclaw Keeper called out, "You're not going to get it in, Potter, just like you couldn't get it in with Evans. She prefers Ravenclaws!"
James did not allow the comment to break his concentration, but tossed the Quaffle expertly through the middle hoop just slightly out of reach of the Keeper's grasp. Only then did he allow himself to respond.
"You're 80 points down, tosser, so I'd focus on blocking goals rather than on insulting me, but it's your call," he shouted over his shoulder, flying after Prewett who now had the Quaffle. "And don't talk about Evans that way!"
A few minutes later, Seven sped off across the pitch in pursuit of the Snitch. The Ravenclaw Seeker followed, but she'd reacted late and had very little chance of catching up. One of the Ravenclaw Beaters sent a Bludger Seven's way, but she dodged it easily. Just as she stretched out her hand, mere feet away from the Snitch, the other Beater flew straight into her, nearly knocking her off her broom. The angry protests from the Gryffindor team and the boos from the crowd nearly drowned out the blast of the referee's whistle.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" James shouted at the Ravenclaw Beater, gesturing wildly. "You could have killed her!"
Seven managed to land unsteadily, one hand pressed to her face in an effort to staunch the blood now flowing freely from her nose. The rest of the team gathered around her, wearing expressions of concern mingled with rage.
"Are you all right?" James asked, quickly assessing her injuries.
"I think so," she said, then winced and put a hand on her ribs. "I would have had the Snitch if he hadn't done that," she said furiously, her words slightly hard to make out due to her obviously broken nose. "I was so close!"
"What a bloody git," Nards exclaimed, her face red with fury. "He'll be sorry he messed with you, Seven, 'cause I'm gonna take my bat to his fucking head."
"Not if I knock him off his broom first," Bubbles added.
"No," James said firmly. "We're not going to stoop to their level. Rule #33: Don't play dirty." He looked Seven squarely in the eye. "Do you want to go to the hospital wing?"
She shook her head vehemently, then bit her lip and clutched her ribs again. "I'm fine, it's just a broken nose."
James raised his eyebrows at her. "Are you sure? It looks like you might have broken ribs. If you're in too much pain to grip your broom properly, you could fall off, and even though you all know I'm a bit of a fanatic about Quidditch, it's not worth dying over. That's rule #34."
"Don't be so dramatic, I'm not going to die," she replied, pinching the bridge of her nose gently in an attempt to stop the bleeding. "Just fix my nose, will you, so I can get back out there and catch the Snitch."
James hesitated for another moment, then shrugged.
"All right, if you're sure. Hold still a moment," he said, pulling his wand from his pocket and pointing it at her face before murmuring "Episki."
She felt her face gingerly, then nodded grimly and mounted her broom.
"Right, Bubbles, can you take the penalty?" James eyed Bubbles's furious expression, then shook his head. "Nah, you're too angry, you'll miss. Unicorn, you take it. Nards and Bransnog, I want you both covering Seven, all right? Don't let that arsehole anywhere near her. And Seven, be careful, all right? If you feel faint, or can't grip your broom properly, I want you to land straight away." He met her gaze, and she nodded.
"Yeah, all right," she agreed, but the fierce determination on her face suggested that she would not return to the ground without the Snitch clutched tightly in her hand. "But I can do this. Rule number one, right?" She kicked off the ground and took off into the air without waiting for a response.
As Unicorn took the penalty, making the goal easily, James heard the Ravenclaw captain shouting at his Beater for his unsportsmanlike behavior. He really is a decent bloke, James mused, before focusing his attention on finishing the game. Even with Nards and Bransnog flanking Seven closely, James kept an eye on her, nervous about her injury despite her insistence that she could play. He needn't have worried, however, as only ten minutes later she went into a steep dive, and when she pulled up short just feet from the ground, she had her fist raised triumphantly, holding a struggling Snitch and beaming with unrestrained joy despite her obvious pain.
"Seven, you bloody marvel, you've done it!" James shouted, landing next to her and throwing his arms around her with complete disregard for her possibly broken ribs. When she yelped, he released her quickly with a muttered apology, then held out his arms to prevent anyone else from handling her too roughly. Someone handed him the Quidditch Cup, and he held it for a few blissful moments before placing it in Seven's hands.
"You carry it, Seven," he said, beaming with pride. "We couldn't have done it without you. Can we lift you up and carry you, d'you think?"
She looked down wonderingly at the trophy in her hands for a moment, hardly able to speak. Then, finally, she tore her eyes away from it and grinned at James. "What? Oh, no, you'd better not, just to be safe," she said, putting a hand to her ribs and wincing again. "But thanks."
James felt a tap in his shoulder and turned to see Fabian Prewett standing there, looking slightly sheepish.
"Is she all right?" he asked, gesturing at Seven.
"She should be fine, once Pomfrey fixes her up," James replied. "No thanks to your Beater, though. Do me a favor and tell him he's a bloody git, will you?"
"Already done," he said. "Anyway, will you tell her I'm sorry? I'd tell her myself, but I'd say she's a bit overwhelmed at the moment." He pointed at the crowd of jubilant Gryffindors surrounding Seven, all vying to pat her on the back and congratulate her.
"Will do," James said. "Good game." He held out his hand, and the Ravenclaw captain shook it.
"Good game. You've got a damn good team, Potter, but who knows. Maybe I'll beat you next year."
James grinned. "Unlikely. But anything's possible, I suppose." He waved, then pushed his way through the crowd of students to reach Seven again. Bransnog and Nards each had an arm draped around her, both grinning widely, and the rest of the team stood nearby, all looking ecstatic. Bubbles now sat atop Crash's shoulders, shouting a mixture of celebratory exclamations and profanity directed at Ravenclaw through a megaphone he had inexplicably acquired. Unicorn was jumping up and down and punching her fists into the air; her long blonde hair had pulled free from her braid and now partially obscured her vision, but she seemed not to notice or care. Sirius, Remus, and Peter pushed their way through the crowd and surrounded James in a chaotic jumble of back-thumping, hugging, and hearty congratulations.
"Well done, Prongs! What a game," Peter said, grinning broadly and shouting to be heard above the noise of the crowd. "Where's the Cup? D'you think I can hold it, just for a minute?"
"That was brilliant!" Remus added, then frowned slightly. "Is Seven okay?"
"Prongs, you bloody Quidditch fanatic, you've done it!" Sirius yelled, ruffling his friend's hair fondly. James noted with amusement that his friend was now shirtless and wore a large Gryffindor banner draped over his shoulders like a cape.
"Padfoot, are you already drunk?" James asked, laughing. "And what's happened to your shirt?"
"Yes, and I threw it onto the field in protest when your Seeker got fouled," Sirius answered. "I would have thrown a shoe, but these are a bitch to unlace." He gestured down at his boots.
"That last goal you scored was brilliant!" Peter gushed. "Where's the Cup? How come you're not holding it?"
Remus stood on tiptoe to try to get a better view of Seven. "She's all right, then? It looked like it was a really hard hit."
"Here, have a drink, you earned it," Sirius said, pressing a flask into James's hand.
James took a quick sip, then handed the flask back to Sirius. "Bloody hell, calm down, Wormtail, I gave the Cup to Seven, but you can have a go with it later in the common room, all right? I think she's okay, Moony, but she's got to go to the hospital wing - I think she might have a couple broken ribs. Padfoot, can I borrow that?"
He plucked the banner from Sirius's shoulders without waiting for a reply. "Can you three go back to the common room and get the party started? I'm going to take the team and bring Seven to the hospital wing, then I'll meet you back there in a bit." He jostled his way through the celebrating Gryffindors until he stood in front of Seven.
"Here you go," he said, draping the banner over her shoulders. "Come on, we're taking you to the hospital wing." He gestured for her to lead the way, and she shrugged and set off.
"Clear out, everyone, Gryffindor's MVP is coming through!" James shouted, following behind her and beckoning his team to follow suit. "And hold the Cup up high, Seven, bloody hell! You broke bones to win this game, so you may as well celebrate big!"
She glanced back at him over her shoulder, grinning, then followed his instructions. When they finally made it to the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey frowned and tried to bar the team from entering, but after much begging and cajoling, she assented and allowed them to visit for ten minutes, after she'd quickly tended to Seven's injuries.
"Check out her nose," James boasted. "I fixed it myself, Madame Pomfrey."
"You shouldn't have done that, Potter," she scolded, examining Seven's nose but apparently finding no fault with his spell work. "You should have left it to me."
"Yeah, well, there wasn't time, we had a game to win." He peered closer. "Although I think it might be just the tiniest bit crooked, sorry about that."
Seven shrugged. "I don't mind. I reckon it makes me look tough."
"Oh, definitely," James agreed, settling the Quidditch cup next to her on the bed.
"You should all go up to the party," she urged, handing the Cup back to James. "I'm fine, and you shouldn't miss the chance to celebrate. Pomfrey's going to kick you out in a minute anyway, go on. Rule number 12, right?"
After vehement protests, much hugging and proclamations of her exceptional Seeking skill, the team finally trouped out of the hospital wing and headed for the common room. When they climbed through the portrait hole, they found the party in full swing. James handed the Quidditch Cup off to Peter, who squealed and almost dropped it in his excitement, then grabbed a drink from the drink table, before he climbed on top of an empty table and shouted to get everyone's attention.
"Oi, listen up, I'd like to propose a toast, so get yourselves a drink and shut up for a minute! Right, so you all know that we had a bit of a rough start to the Quidditch season, and that was partly my fault," he began.
"And mine!" Sirius chimed in, still shirtless and not looking at all self-conscious about it.
"And mine," Nards added regretfully.
"But we've grown as a team since then," James went on. "We've worked bloody hard and made sacrifices and dug ourselves out of a hole. And today, we put up with some bloody horrendous fouls from Ravenclaw, and we conducted ourselves with class and professionalism."
"Hear, hear," Bubbles said, seated on a nearby armchair with his girlfriend perched on his lap and a goblet of firewhisky in his hand, looking neither classy nor professional.
"And today, one of our own risked her very bodily health to secure a win for Gryffindor," James continued, pausing to allow the cheers and applause to die down.
"So I'd like to propose a toast to our entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, because you all played brilliantly, but I'd like to toast to Crash especially, because this was his last game and he made it one to remember, and to Seven, because we couldn't have done it without her, and even though Pomfrey's holding her hostage in the hospital wing, let's get drunk in her honor, all right?" He raised his glass, and watched as everyone followed suit.
"Potter, why are you standing on top of a table?" Professor McGonagall stood just inside the portrait hole, staring at James with her arms crossed and a frown creasing her features. Everyone hastily hid the bottles of firewhisky and tried to look innocent.
"He's just finished giving a toast, Professor," Sirius explained. "But if you'd like, I'm sure he'd propose another one in your honor, for being the biggest supporter of the Gryffindor Quidditch team out of all the staff."
"Mr. Black, why aren't you wearing a shirt?" she asked, looking faintly amused, then hurriedly trying to rearrange her face into a disapproving frown.
"Oh, I threw my shirt onto the field in protest after that disgusting foul on the Gryffindor Seeker," Sirius replied, grinning. "And if you're wondering, I got this scar when I was attacked by a manticore." He gestured at the scar that extended from his shoulder to the middle of his chest.
McGonagall rolled her eyes. "Mr. Black, if you're going to make up ridiculous stories, at least make them believable. That is entirely the wrong claw shape for a manticore. It could be from a hippogriff, or a small dragon, or even a werewolf, but certainly not a manticore. Anyway, I've come to collect the Quidditch Cup."
"Come on, Professor, can't you let us keep it for the evening?" James flashed her his most pleading smile. "You know what, we should get a team photo with you holding the Cup!"
"Oh, I don't think that's necessary," McGonagall began, but James had already assembled his team and beckoned Peter forward with his camera. He handed McGonagall the Cup and, after protesting half-heartedly, she posed with it raised above her head, smiling in spite of herself. James would later go on to hang the photo in the locker room as an inspiration for his future team.
Hours later, the party had reached epic proportions. James had used his Invisibility Cloak to sneak Seven some butterbeer and candy, then returned to the common room, consumed three drinks in a remarkably short period of time, then climbed back on top of the table to loudly beg Lily to go out with him. Her only response was to roll her eyes and tell him to get down from the table. Nards and Bransnog disappeared for almost an hour, and when they finally returned they gave only vague responses when asked where they had been. Nards then grabbed the firewhisky and began drinking directly from the bottle, bringing it with her when she joined Crash over by the window, where they whispered and giggled conspiratorially together for several minutes.
"Hey everyone!" Nards shouted, waving her arms to get their attention. "Check out the full moon!"
"It's not a full moon, Nards!" Sirius called, laughing. "You're drunk!"
But a moment later, he realized what she'd meant, as both Nards and Crash had turned around and were mooning the entire common room. Unfortunately, McGonagall had chosen this exact moment to return to the common room to break up the party, so her eyes were assaulted by the sight of two naked Gryffindor butts.
"What is going on here?" she demanded, covering her eyes hastily. "Ten points from Gryffindor, both of you! And detention! Absolutely disgraceful behavior. I'd like to know what you lot have against wearing clothing! I should be able to enter the common room without having to avert my eyes." She shook her head in disgust. "Shut the party down immediately, because if I have to come back in here again I will not be pleased." She strode out of the portrait hole, blushing faintly.
There was a moment of stunned silence, before the entire common room erupted into laughter. Even Nards and Crash, bright red with embarrassment, couldn't help dissolving into giggles.
"This is the best day of my life," James gasped, wiping away tears of laughter.
Peter, who had collapsed to the floor in his amusement, choked out, "Me too. And I managed to get a picture of it!"
"I think the day Nards put you in a love triangle with Snape was funnier than this," Remus said, glancing at Sirius. "But this is a close second."
Sirius, laughing too hard to even form coherent words, merely gave Remus the finger.
Monday, June 14, 1976
Rule #35 Don't be a prat
"Hey, mind if I join you for a minute?" Nards entered the compartment without waiting for a response, sitting down across from James and helping herself to one of his pumpkin pasties.
"Make yourself at home," James replied, amused.
"I was wondering if you were serious about getting together for a practice this summer," she asked, munching away happily.
"Come on, Nards, you know he never jokes about Quidditch practices," Remus said, not looking up from his book.
"Quite right, Moony," James said, nodding. "I definitely want to do it. It'll be optional, as I know not everyone will be able to make it, but Bubbles and Seven both already told me they'd definitely come."
"But you don't really have a regulation size Quidditch pitch in your backyard, do you?" she pressed on.
"Yes, he does," Sirius replied, nodding earnestly. "It's brilliant! Except when you wake up hungover and he makes you run plays for hours in the blazing heat."
"Yeah, well, occupational hazard of being friends with me," James replied easily. "You should be used to it by now. Anyway, Nards, I really do have a full-size pitch at my house, so you better make it to our summer practice so you can see it. I'll provide lunch, too, it'll be great. I'll write you and let you know what day we're going to do it. Try to practice on your own as much as you can, though, so you don't get too rusty, yeah? Get Bransnog to practice with you."
She frowned suspiciously. "What? Why would you think we'd be together over the summer?"
He raised his eyebrows at her. "I dunno, aren't you two best friends? I just assumed you'd be seeing each other."
"Oh, right. Yeah, we will. I'll make sure we practice. And we'll both come to your house for the summer practice, just let me know when. Have a good summer, everyone." She waved, then turned to leave, but her exit was blocked by a tall Hufflepuff boy. He wore hiking boots and long socks despite the heat, and, inexplicably, munched on a piece of bacon. He sang softly under his breath, an off-key rendition of a pop song that was very popular among first and second year witches.
"Hello, hello," he said, standing in the doorway and smiling in a friendly yet awkward manner. "I was wondering if any of you have found a pocket knife? I've lost mine." He took another bite of his bacon.
James stared at him blankly. "A knife?"
The Hufflepuff boy nodded. "Yeah, you know, a pocket knife, to cut things with? Stabby stabby?" He made a cutting motion with the half piece of bacon. "Anyone want some bacon?"
Sirius shrugged. "I never say no to bacon."
"Don't take his bacon, Padfoot," James said, rolling his eyes.
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because we're about to mock him mercilessly and possibly hex him, and it would just be poor form," James explained.
The Hufflepuff blinked several times in confusion. "You're about to mock me?"
"And possibly hex you," James replied. "Depending on how the mocking goes."
"Potter," Nards began, but James ignored her.
"But why?" the Hufflepuff boy asked.
"Because you irritate me," James said, as though this should have been perfectly obvious. "First of all, you can't sing, and your taste in music is appalling, and yet you come in here, singing without a care in the world."
"You don't like my singing?" the Hufflepuff repeated, looking crestfallen.
"No, I bloody don't! I told you that a couple months ago, before I hexed you, remember? I got detention for it and everything. This isn't ringing any bells?"
The Hufflepuff shuffled his feet nervously. "Oh, that. I do remember, I just, I dunno, I thought you were joking. And I thought you hexed me mostly because I called Bernard a bitch." He gestured at Nards.
"Potter," Nards said again, but James didn't seem to hear.
"Well, that too!" James continued. "That's the second reason you irritate me. You're rude to my Beater, whose name is Nards, by the way, and then you stroll in here like everything's fine and have the audacity to ask her where your missing pocket knife is."
"I didn't-" the Hufflepuff began, but James spoke over him.
"And why the hell are you walking around eating bacon? They don't even sell it on the trolley."
"Hold on Prongs," Sirius said, holding up a hand. "I'm all for mercilessly mocking and hexing based on the other reasons you just laid out, but I can't in good conscience make fun of someone for eating bacon, because bacon is always a brilliant idea, no matter the occasion."
James exhaled impatiently. "All right, fine, we'll leave the bacon issue for now. But what was with that whole 'stabby stabby' thing?" He laughed unkindly. "I dunno, I'm not feeling satisfied with the merciless mocking. I think hexing is in order." He drew his wand.
"James Potter, you put that away and listen right now!" Nards shouted, drawing her own wand and pointing it at him.
"What-" James began, but she shot him a glare and he quieted immediately.
"I don't have a problem with him anymore!" she explained furiously. "That was months ago that he called me a bitch, but we're friends now."
"Since when?" James asked.
"Since Slughorn split me and Bransnog up for talking too much during lessons and sat me next to Ryan instead." She gestured at the Hufflepuff boy, who smiled shyly at her. "So you don't need to hex him on my account. Also, I think it's extremely rich for you to have a go at him for his 'stabby stabby' comment, when I've heard you refer to Aguamenti as the 'squirty squirty' spell."
"Don't forget the 'boom boom charm,' known to most as Bombarda," Remus said.
"Or, 'the bloody big boom boom charm,' Bombarda Maxima," Peter added.
"My personal favorite is his name for Avis, which is 'the birdy charm,' but I can't say anything because I use some of those too," Sirius admitted.
Nards rolled her eyes. "How are you two top of your year when you talk like five year olds?"
"We obviously know the actual incantations, it's just more fun to have silly nicknames for them," James retorted. "You know I'm a sucker for silly nicknames. Now, are you finished shouting at me, or is there more?"
"Oh, there's more. I'm sick and tired of you being a prat to people for no good reason. Ryan came in here just looking for something he lost, and all right, maybe you find him annoying, even though you don't really know him and might actually like him if you gave him a chance, but I'm not asking you to be friends with him, just to be civil! All you had to say was 'Sorry, mate, I haven't seen your knife,' and that would have been the end of it, but instead you go out of your way to be a git to him and hex him for no real reason."
"I had a reason," James began, but Nards interrupted him.
"Someone annoying you is not a good reason to hex someone!" she shouted. Her face had grown red with her anger, and she stood glaring at him with her hands on her hips. "You know, you're a great Quidditch player and a great captain, and most of the time I'm proud to be a member of your team. But sometimes you're an arrogant, bullying toerag, and I'm embarrassed to call you my friend, to be honest."
James ran a hand through his hair and gazed at her, frowning. "Were you down at the lake the other day when we were hexing Snape and Evans told me off?" He replayed her words in his head; it was almost word-for-word what Lily had shouted at him.
"No, but I heard about it, and that's exactly what I'm talking about! Snape did nothing to you, he was literally just sitting there, and you decided to have a go at him just because he was there and you had nothing better to do."
"He did nothing?" James demanded indignantly. "Do you know what he fucking said to Evans? Don't make him out to be innocent. I'm not going to apologize for hexing someone who says things like that."
"Obviously I don't condone what he said, but that's not the reason you went after him," Nards shot back. "You'd already hung him upside down and shown his underpants to about 25 people before he called Evans that name."
"You're just defending him because you've snogged him," James argued.
"Are you kidding me? That has nothing to do with this! It isn't about Snape, it's about you! Haven't you ever thought about why Evans won't go out with you? It's because she sees past your too-cool, Quidditch star persona and sees the side of you that most people choose to ignore, the mean, bullying side of you, and she doesn't like what she sees, and honestly, I'm starting to agree with her."
"So what are you saying?" James asked defiantly. "Are you saying you don't want to play Quidditch for me anymore?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, of course that's not what I'm saying. I'm just saying, take your head out of your arse and stop acting like you're the king of bloody Hogwarts, that's all. Rule #35: Don't be a prat!"
"You don't get to make rules," James protested, feeling as though he'd said the exact same thing to her before.
"I don't care, I'm making it a rule anyway," she retorted, then turned to glare at Sirius. "You're just as bad, you know, usually right there alongside Potter, because two on one is fair, right?" She turned her attention to Peter. "You're no better - standing there and cheering them on, but keeping yourself safely out of harm's way." She shook her head in disgust, then finally turned to Remus, who appeared to be asleep. "But you might be the worst, because I know you don't approve, but you don't have the guts to actually say anything to disagree with them. You just hide behind your book, acting like you don't see what's going on, or pretending to be asleep when I know you're awake!" She glared at him.
Sirius peered at Remus. "Nah, he's actually asleep, Nards."
Remus opened his eyes and blinked several times. "Not anymore."
"Well, I'm sorry," she said, slightly apologetic, "that's my mistake, but I still stand by what I said - you should speak up if you think what they're doing is wrong, instead of just sitting there and pretending it's not happening. And also, why the hell are you always sleeping?!"
"So I'm not allowed to have a go at someone for singing and eating bacon at inappropriate times, but you're allowed to mock Moony for sleeping?" James demanded, but Nards ignored him.
"Think about what I said, and don't let me see you picking on anyone who doesn't deserve it again, or I will hex you." She turned to leave, then realized Ryan, the Hufflepuff boy, still stood in the doorway, looking dumbstruck. He held his bacon halfway to his mouth; he'd evidently forgotten all about it in the commotion that had just occurred.
"Look, I think Betsy said she found your knife," she said kindly. "You know Betsy, Gryffindor 7th year prefect, glasses, really loud laugh?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I know Betsy. I'll go and find her then. Thanks." He paused. "And thanks for, you know." He gestured vaguely, then backed awkwardly out of the door and headed down the corridor.
"See you lot in September, then," Nards said, waving to Sirius, Peter, and Remus. "Potter, I'll see you this summer." With that, she strode briskly out of the compartment, leaving a stunned silence in her wake.
After a minute, Sirius began to laugh, quietly at first, then more loudly, until he was practically roaring with laughter.
"What's so funny?" Remus asked, retrieving his book from the floor and flipping through pages until he found his place.
"She shouted at you for sleeping!" Sirius explained, trying to control his laughter. "I dunno why it's so funny. I mean, I'm sorry, I know it's not funny, but at the same time it is, know what I mean?"
Remus raised his eyebrows. "She just tore us all a new one and basically told us we're terrible human beings, and she called me out for being the worst out of all of us, and what you took away from that whole conversation was her one comment about me always being asleep?"
Sirius nodded. "Yeah, pretty much."
Remus shook his head. "Of course it was." He started laughing in spite of himself, then found he couldn't stop.
Peter joined in, and James pretended to be just as amused as the rest of him, but his heart wasn't in it. He turned Nards's words over and over in his head, then replayed what Lily had said to him down by the lake. He was particularly bothered by the phrase 'arrogant bullying toerag,' returning to it the way he might examine a bruise by poking it. Usually, he let criticism slide right off of him, but the combined efforts of Nards and Lily seemed to have permeated his usually implacable self-confidence. Are they right? he thought. Am I a bully? This thought did not sit well with him, and he finally formed the question, Do I need to change?
When the train finally reached King's Cross and the four boys disembarked, lugging their belongings, Sirius turned to James, frowning slightly.
"Are you all right, mate?"
James shrugged. "Fine, why?"
"I dunno, you just seemed a bit quiet during the second half of the train ride, that's all. You're not still thinking about what Nards said, are you? She was way out of line."
James shook his head. "Nah, you know me, I don't take that sort of thing to heart." He scanned the crowd of parents and waved. "There are my parents, come and say hi," he urged Sirius. "Oh, wait, first I want to introduce myself to Bubbles's mum, look, there she is!" He turned to Remus. "You've got to come too, Moony. Good thing you're wearing a cardigan today even though it's 80 degrees, because imagine her disappointment if she was introduced to the recipient of the Most Professorial Cardigans Award and he wasn't actually wearing a cardigan!"
"I don't think we need to introduce ourselves," Remus protested weakly, but James had already grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him towards Bubbles and the stern-looking woman holding his trunk.
"Bubbles, were you really going to go home for the summer without introducing me to your mum?" James said brightly, extending his hand to her. "James Potter. It's a pleasure to meet you."