A.N.: Well, here's the next part of my MWPPL fic. Though I must say I still don't have very many readers, I figure that the more I write, the larger my readership will become, and anyway, I enjoy it. This part has far less cursing than the last two simply because there is less Lily -- Lily is, after all, the main cursing character here. (All the nice people who don't like cursing cheer.) Anyway, this is more focused on MWPP and less in Lily because that was just my mood, but it has some Lily anyway. So get ready for the third chapter, in which, among other things, the first bits of romance begin to blossom -- though, perhaps, not between who you might think!
Disclaimer: I'm J.K. Rowling. I'm j/k. (This is becoming my standard disclaimer.)
As they entered their first period class, the first class they'd go to that year, James was sure he could see Prof. MacMillan, the Charms teacher, groan. Throughout the school, they were known as the "trouble gang," and with Prof. MacMillan, it was no exception.
The man was an old man whose hair was becoming by the day more salt and less pepper, probably in part due to The Trouble Gang's frequent pranks. He was a well-intentioned man, but he had been trained in the old disciplinarian pedagogy where people like James, Sirius, and Remus (though the last was currently absent due to another family crisis) were considered scum which had to be corrected.
Now an nice group of perfect little boys would recognize that the man was trained differently and therefore try not to make life hard for him. A normal group would, at least, try not to make life hard for him anyway -- they wouldn't want to be punished. It was a way to deal with it that was by no means unique.
But then, James, Sirius, and Remus weren't your ordinary boys. So they decided to deal with it...differently.
They pulled pranks.
And more pranks.
And more.
Their main goal in life seemed to give all teachers, especially Prof. MacMillan, a living hell. And they succeeded.
Today was just another day...
The boys had come early to class. They knew Prof. MacMillan wouldn't be there; he was always grabbing supplies like textbooks from the teachers lounge. He was like that -- it wasn't procrastination (waiting till the last minute), but rather perfectionism (going to the last minute to get as much done as possible) that drove him to this.
Most students were angered because it made their work harder, but as I've said before, James, Sirius, and Remus were not most students.
They took advantage of it. Today, they had decided, would be the day of the Bursting Poppers. These were actually outlawed for any more sale a while ago because if you mixed the wrong chemicals with them, some of these chemicals being very common potion ingredients, they would have very dangerous reactions. But that didn't keep the three from having them -- the moment they'd heard of the lawsuit (filed by one of the wizarding community's most renowned lawyers) they'd stocked up on them, just about buying the whole stock in all magical joke shops.
And now it was paying off. One on each student's seat, them all over the place where the teacher would be. They grinned imagining the sight.
Finally, they were done and surveyed their work. Only one thing left to do: put a Visible Shrinking spell on. That made the size you see shrink but the volume still be the same. It was marvelous, how this thing worked. They could do that whenever they wanted. Probably the first spell they'd ever learned.
And then they waited.
The class filed in. They couldn't take their seats yet. They had to go through the Hogwarts Pledge. It was an annoying old tradition, supposedly written by Rowena Ravenclaw that only Prof. MacMillan made them go through anyway, but there was no way except extreme sickness or death to get out of it in HIS class.
Finally the guy walked in, hairs whiter than ever. "Students, the Hogwarts Pledge." And they all began:
To be undyingly loyal,
To not it's name tarnish nor soil,
With our protection and that from above.
We pledge this to the four houses strong,
That we may treat each with equal reverence,
Work for ours with great perseverance,
And with every house get along.
Helga Hufflepuff we ask,
That you may grant us the patience we may need,
Help us plant, sow, and reap our every seed,
And help keep our minds on ev'ry task.
Rowena, creator of this poem,
Bestow to us wisdom and intelligence,
Help us to give our learning reverence,
And to make learning our eternal home.
Slytherin help us in our road,
To ruling, governance, power, and might
That we may have the needed foresight,
That these seeds of power may someday be sowed
And last but never the least among them,
We ask ye, Godric Gryffindor,
To make us brave and strong in the core,
And let courage from us stem.
Though gone in body and our sight,
You are still here with us in mind and heart.
Help to guide us to do our part.
And to be with Hogwarts in all its might.
It was a long, dull spell which they had to say every day in the class and which they had been forced to memorize at the beginning of the year. All those who didn't learn it were treated with the harsh punishment so natural to Prof. MacMillan. Though meant to be a heartfelt request, it sounded more like a dull incantation that nobody meant when the students said it in Prof. MacMillan's class. This time, however, Sirius and James said it with an unusual amount of gusto, but only because they knew what was about to proceed.
And it happened. At the sign of Prof. MacMillan -- he told them when to sit down after the Hogwarts Pledge, just another of his quirks -- everyone sat down. Water flew everywhere out of the Bursting Poppers -- including soaking through ever student's robes and pants. James and Sirius laughed hysterically, slapping their knees as they watched the scene:
Mary and Sue were both shrieking like terrified cats, about how "some water" (meaning about a droplet) had gotten in their hair, and how they were so freezing, and how they looked awful now. Lily was just looking disinterested and unshaken, as always. Prof. MacMillan was shooting the usual glare at James and Sirius. The whole class, generally, just looked peeved.
Lily, however, still wore her usual expression. Nothing had changed. Nothing at all. Sirius was bemused. "C'mon, Lily, don't you have the ability to change your expression?"
"Oh shut your trap!" Lily said. "Honestly, I have dealt with way worse than this and I don't react any more, so why should I react, and fuck you.
"Well Jesus, I'm sorry. All I did was ask," Sirius said. To James he mumbled, "Some people have a temper."
"You just figured that out?" James said, also in an undertone.
Returning to his normal voice, Sirius added, "Maybe if you would actually have emotions you could actually make a few friends!"
Lily glared at him. "And who ever said I wanted any?"
"Well...doesn't everybody?" Sirius wasn't quite so loud now, but rather seemed...confused.
"Sirius," James reminded him, "You didn't want friends when you first came to Hogwarts. In fact, you were a lot like this Lily person."
"Yeah...but I was weird...I was an exception..." he said. "Anyway, I don't want to remember that. That was the old me. Anyway, I didn't go around with "fuck the world" written on my robes, and I wasn't as anti-social as this girl...I just didn't want friends. I didn't take so much effort to resist friendship...it's just no one offered it to me."
"Sirius, shut your trap, you are over-glorifying yourself now. You did resist friendship from me for quite a while," James reminded him.
"Oh shut up," said Sirius moodily. "I don't want to discuss that any longer."
"So what, your just going to deny how you used to be?" James said, equally moody.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying I don't want to talk about it!" Sirius shouted at him.
"And if I do?" James shouted back.
"Then tough luck for you. The whole world does NOT center around you!" Sirius said in the same tone of voice.
"Yeah, but sometimes people want to talk about things a little deeper than girls, food, or brooms!" James said.
"So I have to fuel your need?" Sirius yelled at him.
"No, but you can take the trouble to discuss something like that once in your lifetime!" James responded angrily.
"Hey, I've had a lot of deep discussions. Maybe I just don't feel like having one with you now!"
"But maybe I do!" James shouted back, all his sensitivity vanishing in light of an argument.
"Well then, maybe I don't feel like being your friend!" Sirius shouted.
"Maybe I don't either," James said. And that was the end. Quiet.
Prof. MacMillan looked at the two. "Are you two done with your discussion? Good, we can proceed with class. But first I'd like to notify you two that you will both be getting Notices of Punishment when I have decided on a fitting punishment. Now back to class work!"
They resumed reading about charms. James, who always needed his mouth running, whispered to Lily, "So what is up with you anyway?"
Lily hated that. They always wanted to know. Wasn't it clear that if she said fuck the world she wanted the world to leave her alone? But she supposed he needed a little bigger push in the right direction. "James or whatever your name is, just piss off."
"Well excuse me for existing and trying to be charitable!" James said, barely above a yell, as he glared at her.
"Not excused," Lily said, returning the glare.
"Fine then. Damn, no wonder everyone hates you. I wouldn't be surprised if your own family hated you!" James said cruelly.
That set her off. She hated when people set her off. She still maintained control, but only barely. "You know what, James?"
"What?" he said, tauntingly, cruelly.
"They do," she finally said simply. "At least my father -- my mother's dead. So fuck you." And with that she marched off to her room, not caring that class was still in session, and leaving MacMillan and the whole class too dazed to do anything at first.
In her dorm Lily took a little time to think. She wondered if it was wise to tell them that her father hated her. Aw, the wouldn't ever believe anything anyway. Who cares?
That Sirius boy was rather cute, but so intolerable. Not as much as the James boy, perhaps, who seemed to think the world revolved around him and his messy hair, but intolerable enough. She allowed herself to think someone was cute. She just didn't allow herself to fall in love, because that was very volatile -- both love and people -- and if she became volatile it would be too easy to hurt her.
Lily sat down to work on the mirror. She was almost glad to be mad -- it wasn't that she enjoyed the emotion (on the contrary, she hated it, a shame since it was what she felt most of the time). It was just that she worked better, especially on vengeful projects, when she was mad.
There would have to be something on the mirror to draw attention...more than just Mirror of Erised because people might just think it was just the mirror of someone who was named Erised or something and just pass it by. It had to be a long thing that people would wonder about and come to see.
She remembered a sentence from an old playwright of the Wizarding World, O'Brien. There had been a character, a mystical one, who could tell everybody what they most wanted. He had told the hero, "I show thee not thine face but what thine heart desireth." Meaning that he didn't show the guy what you could see in his face but rather what you see in his heart.
Yes, that would be nice. I show thee not thine face but what thine heart desireth. But it could use some rewording. Something like...I show not your face but what your heart desire...no, not quite the right ring to it. The end was just a little wrong...how about I show not your face but the desire of your heart? No, she decided, still a little wrong.
Yes! That was it! I show not your face but your heart's desire. That would work. Still, a little more mysterious...that was too obvious, especially to people who knew O'Brien's works and knew that in the play the character who said the quote from which this derived had been a villain. Something like...not something where the letters are jumbled, that was too far...but perhaps backwards...yes, backwards.
Erised straeh ruoy tub ecaf ruoy ton wohs I. No, that doesn't sound enough like a foreign language.
She pondered it a while. Finally, she came to something she liked. Sounded enough like a foreign language. She scribbled onto a piece of paper: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. She smiled. That would do.
She already knew how to make the mirror itself. She had taken a muggle course in building various things during her years when she didn't know she was a witch (she was, of course, a muggle born). She had mastered every object -- desks, mirrors, clip-boards, and small harps even.
All that was left to figure out were the spells. Now, being a smart girl, she had more spells in her head than the average second year muggle born. She knew that only one spell would be really needed: a hallucination charm that would go on the glass to show the person's heart's desire. Nay, she realized, two: one would be needed just to find out the person's heart's desire.
Well the second one would be easy. It was the spell that the man in O'Brien's play had tried to put on himself (it didn't work on humans, however). It was a long incantation in Latin, so she quickly grabbed her copy of O'Brien's Desires of Thine Heart and looked it up and wrote it down.
The Hallucination spell was easy -- it was in 100 Easy Spells for the First and Second year. She thought a moment and then wrote down, "Halucinatus desirem coram."
She smiled. That was it. Build the mirror, put the two charms in, and get the engraving in with the simple engraving spell, "Scribis [text you want engraved].
She was about to begin the construction when some girl, either Mary or Sue, came in and said, "Prof. Schlechsten wants a word with you about you leaving class."
As she groaned and said, "Shit," Lily could have sworn she saw the girl smirk.