A Night at the Golden Snail
Chapter 6 – I'm only in it for the Quidditch
(If you're reading with intent to sue, go look at part one and read the disclaimer.)
%%%
James loved being on the Quidditch team. It was just practicing that he couldn't stand. And out of the week's practice, Friday was by far the worst because it meant giving up your free afternoon, while your friends were concocting potions or playing wizarding death cribbage, to run around the Quidditch pitch five times holding your broomstick above your head. This was what their captain, Leslie Bank, called warm-up. James called it many other things, but the penalty was an extra lap if he did so on the field.
"Happy weekend, suckers," James said, wheezing slightly, as he passed Abelman.
"Drive it, Sidd," yelled Bank, who was already on her third lap. "You all are a bunch of pansy-assed wimps."
James wondered briefly how she had enough breath to tell them off, but he was distracted by the way his breath felt in his lungs. He couldn't think hard enough to describe it.
"I – want – to – die," Peter said.
James silently agreed.
"You do not walk on the Quidditch pitch," Bank bellowed, trotting off the field and dropping her broomstick. "Do I have to remind you every week?"
James put on an extra burst of speed and finished just ahead of Abelman; he threw his broom down and collapsed on the grass. He felt like he was going to die.
"Get something to drink, Potter," said Bank. "You sound like an asthmatic hippo."
"Thanks," James gasped, and dragged himself over to the jug of water on the sidelines. "The hell's Sirius?"
Bank scowled, but let it pass. "I don't know."
Peter fell down next to Bank, snapping several twigs off his broom in the process.
"Stay after and fix that," Bank said, looking down at Peter. "Where's your crummy friend at?"
Peter tugged his hand out from under his body and pointed a limp finger at James.
"No," Bank said, "your crummy friend with the funky hair and the glasses."
"Not – James?"
"No, the water boy, you ninny."
"Oh." Peter interrupted himself with a phlegmy, bending cough that left him curled on the grass in the fetal position. "Sirius."
"That's the one. Where is he?"
"God knows." Peter felt the grass in front of him for bits of lung.
Bank sighed. "Fine." Everyone had finished by then so she began her ritual address to them.
"I know it's Friday, I know it's raining, I know the field doesn't drain worth snot, I know half of you were up late last night doing your Charms project, and I don't care. We are still going to bust booty out there today, and no whining about the rain either. Potter, charm the glasses or take them off, I don't want any excuses from you today."
"Can't we sit in the mud for the next five years?" Peter whined, but quietly.
"Okay," Bank said, "now here's what we're going to do toda –" She stopped talking and went remarkably red.
"Anyone know what to do for a heart attack?" James said.
"Oh dear Lord," Bank sighed. "It's him."
Everyone promptly swiveled around to face the castle.
"Ooh, it's him," the other girls said more or less at once.
"Who're you talking about?" James said. "The only person I see is Remus."
Bank, Sidd and Green let out simultaneous sighs that practically snapped their broomsticks.
"He looks so sexy today," Sara Green said.
"Yeah," Sidd agreed. "But then he does every day."
This made both of them, for no apparent reason, break out in mad giggles. The four male members of the team exchanged uncomfortable looks.
"You guys," Bank said. Her face never got that red, even during practice. "I have the biggest crush on him."
"Remus?" James said incredulously. "You're out of your tree. He looks like he just came from Potions or something."
"He does, doesn't he?" Green said happily. "I had a dream about him in Potions the other day."
"You dreamed about Remus during Potions, or you dreamed about Remus being in Potions?"
"Both."
"Lucky sod."
"You guys," Bank hissed, "I think he's coming this way."
"No wonder you're the captain," James said just as Remus came up to them. Actually, he looked more as though he'd been doing lawn work; his robes were grass-stained and he had blades of grass in his shining hair.
"Sirius sends his apologies," Remus said. "He couldn't be here because he's – um. Well, he's busy so he sent me to be the water boy instead." Remus smiled which was a bad idea because Bank already looked like she was having trouble breathing.
"Five laps around the pitch can really get to you, huh?" James said snidely.
His comment had the desired effect because now Bank looked like she wanted to fertilize the pitch with him. "Team meeting," she snapped. "Underneath the south goalposts."
James shrugged minutely in response to Remus's puzzled look and followed the rest of the team over.
"Okay," Bank said. "I'd like a show of hands – who thinks Remus should replace Sirius as water boy?"
Predictably, only three of the team thought so.
"Opposed?" James said.
There were three of them.
"What?" Peter said. "I'm not voting against either one of my friends, okay?"
"Pete, you've missed the point," James said. "The girls are acting like moonstruck – shit."
"Did you just call us shit?" Bank said. "Four laps for swearing on the field, Potter."
"Four?" he said. "It's been one per swear word for as long as I've been on this team."
"Four, Potter," said Bank. "Pick up your broomstick."
"Fruitcake," James swore, and started off.
"Now," Bank said. "All in favor? Thank you, ladies. And all opposed?"
There were only two.
"Wonderful," Bank said with ill-disguised glee. "Follow me, team."
They strode up to Remus, Bank in the lead trying violently to fluff her bangs.
"Remus," she said. "We've – er, that is, the team has elected you to be the new water boy, so, um, will you do it?"
"Sorry," Remus said. "I can't."
"What?" Bank said. "You can't not do it."
Remus looked at her levelly. "It would break Sirius's heart if I did," he said. "And I can't do that."
Bank made a small strangling noise. "Okay," she said at last. "Let's get to work, then."
In actuality, though, no one got any work done but the three Chasers, who had one of their best practices ever. While the girls flew endless complicated patterns hoping to catch Remus's eye, he was busy instructing Blakely on some of the finer points of strategy which Bank and the others had never been able to explain to him in small enough words. Once James had finished his laps and was able to breathe consistently, the Chasers went through all of their moves with Remus coaching from the sidelines. Meanwhile, Bank was so busy staring at Remus that she flew straight into one of the goalposts.
"He's a better captain than our captain," James said, once they had put away their broomsticks and were heading for the castle.
"Why didn't she just tell me I was supposed to catch the ball when you threw it? I can understand that," Blakely said for the thirty-first time.
"I don't see what the big deal is," Peter said. "I mean, it's just Remus."
"Yes, but he's so sexy," James said. "The boy shows up looking like he slept out in the forest and they want to make a freaking statue. If I showed up looking like that they'd start whining about chivalry being dead and all that crap."
"No they wouldn't, you look like that every day at practice," Peter said.
James scowled. "There's got to be some other reason for it. Has he gotten his hair cut lately?" James ran a hand through his own slovenly hair self-consciously.
"No," Peter said, "not unless you count Sirius trying to cut it."
"No, then," James said. "I know, he must have a secret girlfriend."
"Yes, Remus must be in love," Peter agreed. "That would explain why he and Sirius are always off making potions."
James jerked his head around to stare at Peter. "Bloody hell, Pete, you don't mean –"
"Well, I don't see why not," Peter said. "Sirius is smart enough to make Love Potion, I bet."
"You numbskull, that's not what they're up to," James said. "It's perfectly obvious what's going on. Sirius is making Remus Polyjuice, and his secret girlfriend is taking it to look like Sirius so they can sneak off to the potions lab together." James thought about that and added, "Remus's secret girlfriend, that is."
"You're so full of shit," Peter said. "He's probably just sleeping with half the Quidditch team. Er –" He counted swiftly on his fingers. "Not quite half, I guess."
"I'm going to ask Remus to help me with my Potions," Blakely announced. "He says things so clear."
"You're so crass," James said. "He's probably in love with some pathetic Hufflepuff and writing bad sonnets in scented ink."
"But Remus hates scented ink," Peter said. "It makes him sneeze."
"You're so dense," James said. "It's perfectly obvious what's going on."
"If you don't know, why don't you just ask him?" Blakely said.
"What an idiotic idea," James and Peter both agreed.
That evening at dinner, James flumped into the seat next to Remus and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Remus!" he said. "How's my best pal today?"
Remus looked up suspiciously from his empty plate. "What d'you want?"
"Nothing, nothing," James said, idly raking the tines of his fork along the edge of the table. "By the way, are you in love?"
Remus snorted. "What gives you that idea?"
"I don't know," James said. "It's just that all the girls on the Quidditch team are suddenly in love with you and I know you haven't had a haircut."
"I gave him a haircut," Sirius said in mild indignation.
"I meant haircut in the sense of cutting off hair," James said. "So what's the story, Remus?"
"I'm not in love," he said, smiling about something.
"Yeah?" James said. "So why are you
acting like a goofy idiot and spending all your time with Sirius making moron
potions?"
"You've cracked it," Remus said. "Sirius and I are actually carrying on a flaming romance over our flaming cauldron."
"You'd better not joke about things like that," James said, annoyed. "Or at least try to sound like you're joking. Now, what's the deal?"
"Surely you don't think I'm going to tell you –"
"So there's something to tell?"
"No –" Remus blushed. "You're such an asshole. Bread?"
"Thanks." James took three slices. "Just tell me. You know I'm going to make your life miserable until you do."
"Then what happens after?"
James groaned. "Sirius, do you know what he's up to?"
Sirius jerked and looked up, his mouth hanging open to display a bit of masticated carrot. "What?"
"You're such a swine," James said, sucking the last of the butter off his knife. "Where were you that you couldn't come to practice?"
"I – oh, hell." Sirius ducked his head. "I'd just like to say right now that Remus and I are not having a flaming affair."
"I'll be sure to cross that off my list," James said. "Someone just please tell me what the secret is or I'll have to start looking in the laundry for champagne glasses."
"Ew, why would you ever look in the laundry?" Peter said. "It's so putrid in that corner."
"You people are missing the point," James said. "Exactly who is having a flaming affair here?"
"Me."
"Besides Peter."
"No one is," Remus said irritably. "It's just that half the school seems to be in love with me now."
"That's it," James said. "Why are they, again?"
Remus shrugged. "Beats me."
"Oh." James thought about that for much longer than necessary. "That was all I really wanted to know."
"You might have just asked," Remus said.
"Wait," James said. "I'm confused. What are you and Sirius doing in the potions lab?"
"Not having a flaming affair."
"But you said –" Peter stopped. "Oh. Never mind."
"Forget it," James said. "Just forget I ever said anything and let's talk about something simple instead, like Quidditch."
%%%
It had taken them an absurdly long time, but James and Lockhart had at last finished revising the play. When Remus looked it over for the first time, he understood the delay.
James was standing behind Remus, reading over his shoulder and giggling self-consciously at the funny bits. "Well?" he said when Remus was done. "What do you think?"
He sounded so pathetically proud that Remus resolved to be diplomatic about it. "Er," he said. "What happened to the Golden Snail?"
"You don't like it, do you," James said. "You think it's a piece of trash, don't you?"
"Did I say that?" Remus said. "I was just a bit curious as to why you made Christine the captain of the Lady Lions Quidditch team and Sebastian –"
"The wardrobe boy?" Lockhart said. "I don't mind telling you that was my idea."
Remus scowled. "Why didn't you just change his name to James? Well, I guess I can see how two of them might get confusing." He stood up but the other James was suddenly in his way.
"Christine is not me," he said in a dangerous voice.
"Oh that's right," Remus said, "you're not captain of the Quidditch team, are you."
James looked ready to spit. "I did not spend two weeks on this so you could tell me your stupid little books are better."
"Did I say that?" Remus said. "You're just so sensitive about your writing that you think I'm saying what you already know."
"And what's that?" James said.
"This play is a piece of shit."
Sirius walked into the room balancing a flower pot full of thorns and a pair of hedge clippers. "Hi everyone," he said absently, walking across the room and depositing his things on the desk. "Remus, I got our thorns."
"You're all scratched," Remus said. "Why didn't you use magic?"
"They work better this way," Sirius explained, getting out his wand to tend to his scratches. "I showed you that part in the book, right?"
"Sirius, would you stop distracting Remus?" James said. "We're trying to have an argument here, if you don't mind."
"He's not distracting me," Remus said, whirling around to face James. "And I'd just like to say that as of right now I am not having anything to do with this piece of trash."
"You aren't?" Sirius said.
"Have you read it?" Remus said. "It's a travesty."
"It did seem like there was something missing," Sirius said thoughtfully, twiddling his wand.
"Like what?" James demanded. "It's got everything – humor, Quidditch, friendship, obvious platitudes –"
"But no romance," Sirius said. Everyone stared at him.
"Of course there's no romance," James said. "As I recall, McG expressly told us to get rid of the romance."
"She told you to get rid of the sex," Sirius said. "She did not tell you to get rid of the romance."
"But how can there be romance without sex?" James said, looking frankly puzzled.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "I feel sorry for whoever ends up with you."
"Gee, thanks, moron," James said. "So what do you suggest we do for romance?"
"Well," Sirius said, "at this point there's not much you can do to save it."
"What do you mean save it?" James said. "It can't possibly be that bad. I mean, I'm a pretty good writer, aren't I?"
"James," Sirius said, "thinking you're a pretty good writer is the biggest delusion of them all."
"I'm with James," said Lockhart. "I think it's bloody brilliant."
"Thanks, James," he said. Remus snorted.
"Remus," said Lockhart, "what do we have to do for you to be a part of this play?"
He was about to reply when James had a brilliant idea.
"Remus," he said, "you get to play Quidditch."
"Oh my God, that's right," Remus said. "Can I use your broom?"
"Fine," James said, imagining his heart break.
They shook on it.
"I'd just like you to know that I still think the play's pathetic," Remus said. "I'm only in it for the Quidditch."
"Remus, I don't give a shit what you think, so long as you don't tell me about it and you learn your lines," James said.
"Whatever," Remus said. "At least I don't have to wear a bloody dress."
%%%
"Hurry up, people," James said. "Act three, scene four."
"Why are we rehearsing the death scene first?" Remus said to Sirius as he pulled on his Quidditch gloves.
"Isn't it obvious?" Sirius said.
"I guess so." Remus was quiet for a minute. "All right, I give up, why are we?"
"You really don't know?"
"I really don't know, now tell me why," Remus said, a little irritated.
"But it's so obvious, I don't see how you could possibly miss it –"
"Humor me," Remus said.
"Oh, all right, it's foreshadowing. Somebody's going to die, okay?"
"What do you mean somebody's going to die? Nobody's supposed to die." Remus had another thought. "Sirius, is it going to be me?"
"You?" Sirius said. "Hell no. Half the Gryffindor girls would give you their other kidney if you wanted it. More likely it'll be me."
"Sirius, you can't die," Remus said.
Sirius looked at him quickly. "Why not?"
"Would you two please hurry up?" James said.
"Damn you, James," Sirius said. "Why is my robe swirling?"
"Oh." Lockhart blushed. "I forgot to take the spell off." He strode over to get rid of it.
"Why are there only six people on the Quidditch team?" Remus said irritably to James.
"Benson's sick," he said. "Bad case of the flu."
"I sure hope he gets better soon," Remus said, scowling at Lockhart.
"All right team," James said.
"This is so exciting," Ellie whispered to Peter. He squeezed her hand and smiled at her.
"We have to come down from the castle past the lake," James said, "so Remus can see Sirius – dammit, I meant Sebastian – diving for the Snitch."
"Which is when I jump on my broomstick and go heroically to his rescue," Remus said.
"Exactly."
"Um." Sirius raised his hand. "Shouldn't I be the one saving her?"
"Christine is the one that dies in the original," James said. "Besides, she's on the Quidditch team. You're not."
"Ha ha," Remus said. "Eat my boots, wardrobe boy."
"But she could just die the way I do," Sirius said.
"She has to die a heroic death," James said. "One that means something. If she died because she misjudged a dive and plowed her broomstick into the ground, that wouldn't be terribly heroic, now would it?"
"Fine," Sirius said. "Only I thought I was supposed to be the hero."
"James made you the wardrobe boy, so you're going to be the wardrobe boy," James snapped. "Now can we please just rehearse the stupid scene?"
"Thanks a bundle, bouffant boy," Sirius said to Lockhart as he got on his broomstick. James hmphed and swept off toward the castle, the rest of the Quidditch team trailing him.
"Okay," Sirius yelled. He was hovering fifty feet above the ground in the exact center of the pitch. "I'm up here, James, what do I do now?"
"Fly around," James bellowed. "Show off, you know how. We're going to start coming down slowly, and when we pass that big tree –"
Sirius was plunging toward the ground.
"What are you doing you godforsaken fool?" James bellowed. "We're not there yet."
Remus jumped onto his broom and took off.
Sirius pulled up just before he hit the ground, and tumbled onto the grass. When Remus got there he was just sitting up. There was something shiny in his hand.
"I left one of my vials in my pocket by accident," Sirius said. "It fell out."
"I'm going to kill you," Remus said, wanting to die.
Sirius grinned. "Why don't you want me to die again?"
James came running up to them. "That was perfect," he said. "Except Sirius, you need to wait until we pass the tree and Remus, you need to actually save him."
"If he wants to kill me, I'm not going to stop him," Remus said.
"You're not listening," James said. "I said –"
"I heard," Remus said. "Sirius, if you ever do that again I'm going to smash all of your vials."
"But I have to," Sirius said, looking woefully confused. "It's part of the play."
"If you don't understand, I'm not about to explain," Remus said. He whirled around, intending to leave, and noticed that the Gryffindor girls were taking up an entire section of the bleachers. Remus thought he saw Leslie Bank among them. He turned back to Sirius and James.
"Can we try that again from the top?" he said.
Sirius stared at him. "Remus," he said, "is there something wrong?"
Remus gave him a bright hard smile. "Isn't it obvious?" he said.
%%%
"James," said James.
"What is it?" Lockhart said.
"Don't you think this name thing is getting rather annoying?"
"I'm so glad you mentioned it," Lockhart said. "I was afraid you'd be offended if I suggested calling you Joseph. Just to avoid confusion, you know."
James scowled. "Of course, Gilderoy." He paused, slightly annoyed by the lack of response. "Actually, Gilderoy, there was something else I wanted to discuss with you."
"What is it, Joseph?"
"Does it strike you, Gilderoy, that Sirius and Remus have been acting odd lately?"
"How so, Joseph?"
"Well, they've been spending an awful lot of time together, you know, Gilderoy."
Lockhart leaned forward, balancing his chin on his hands, and a lock of slick silvery hair drooped into his eye. "Hot damn," he yelped, clawing at it. "I can't freaking see."
"Do you use Gobman's Hair Tonic by any chance?" James inquired.
"Yes, actually." Lockhart managed to look sheepish even while scrubbing madly at his eye.
"Toxic stuff, Gobman's," James said knowingly. "Last year I finally got sick of staining my robes with it, so I tried Sleekeazy's and let me tell you, that stuff's a miracle. Say, d'you know the counter to Conjunctivitis?"
"Course I do."
"That should take care of it for you."
"Be right back." Lockhart bumbled to his feet and fled to the bathroom. Five minutes later he returned, walking normally.
"Better?"
"Yeah. I owe you one, Potter." Lockhart sat down again, crossing his legs trimly at the ankle. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"
"Remus and Sirius –"
"Yes," Lockhart said, "but I don't quite see the problem. What possible difference could it make to you how they spend their time?"
"But doesn't it seem a bit – suspicious?"
Both of Lockhart's precisely plucked eyebrows shot into his drooping hair. "What exactly are you implying, Potter?"
"Well, I'll tell you." James leaned forward too, using his best crafty look. "I think there's romance brewing downstairs."
"Potter, I'm shocked," Lockhart said. "Remus and Black don't seem at all the type."
"That's where you're wrong," James said. "I know for absolute certain that Sirius is not only capable but willing to brew a Love Potion."
"You think it's a Love Potion?" Lockhart said, unable to entirely suppress a snigger. "You simple-minded fool."
"Why, what do you think they're making?" James challenged.
Lockhart shook his head, smirking. "I shouldn't tell you, it'll give you a heart attack."
"Come on," James whined, "now you have to say."
"I'm telling you, it'll give you nightmares for weeks."
"Is it worse than Polyjuice?"
Lockhart sniggered some more. "Potter, for all your devious little plots, you can be shockingly innocent sometimes."
"Please." James rolled his eyes. "I've seen more arms broken than I've beheaded caterpillars, which by the way is a lot. Plus I've seen Peter stark naked. Nothing you can say would shock me."
Lockhart made a nauseated face. "God, Potter, do you want to make me sick? Be a good chap and let's talk about something else."
"Not until you tell me what Sirius and Remus are making."
"For the last time, will you just forget about it?"
"Fine." James stood up. "If you won't tell me, I'm going to go spy on them and find out anyway."
Lockhart stood up too. "Oh no you aren't."
"What's stopping me?"
"You don't know the Invisibility spell," Lockhart said.
"Damn," James said. The cloak was one of the few things Lockhart didn't know about him, and he rather wanted to keep it that way. "I guess you're right," James said. He sank back into the couch and pretended to drop the subject.
Of course he was now more curious than ever to find out the deep and despicable secret that all of his friends seemed to be keeping from him. So the next day after class James dug out his cloak and left for the potions lab so he could get settled in before Remus and Sirius arrived to brew their dastardly potion.
The door was, of course, locked. James shrugged and blew the door apart with a spell, stepped over the threshold, and reassembled the door, securing it carefully back into the doorframe. "What a cretin that boy is," James reflected smugly, and turned to survey the room. He selected the corner with the best view of the workbench and slid silently across the flagstones. He then tripped over something and pitched full-length onto the floor.
"Hot damn," Lockhart's disembodied head said. "Potter?"
James realized, with another shock, that his own hood had slipped off his head. "They ought to put drawstrings in these idiot hoods," he said lamely.
"Nice cloak, Potter."
"Same to you, you duplicit snake," James said, and Lockhart's grin widened a notch. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"I have to tell you what's going on with Remus and Black so you don't blow our cover," Lockhart said. "Now listen here, Potter, this is going to be hard for your innocent mind to comprehend –"
There were scrabbling noises at the door.
"Curse you, Potter, you forgot to lock it," Lockhart hissed, replacing his hood and scooting farther into the corner. James flipped his own hood up and joined Lockhart.
"This is my personal space, you weirdo," Lockhart hissed. "Get your own corner."
"I wonder why they didn't lock it," Peter said in a puzzled voice, pushing open the door.
"Oh well," Ellie said. "All the better for us." She swung the door shut.
"I think I'm going to be sick," James murmured in Lockhart's ear.
"Ward that, will you?" Ellie said. "I don't want them walking in."
"If this makes you sick, you're going to lose it in chunks when Remus and Black get here," Lockhart murmured.
"For the last time, what are you on about?"
More scuffling at the door. "Who put these wards on?" Sirius said suspiciously.
"God, I love this," Lockhart said with a relish.
"You're such a voyeur," James said. "Oh hell, I guess I am too."
"That's why we get on so well," Lockhart said complacently.
Peter and Ellie had frozen.
"It's probably a trap," Remus said calmly.
"I suppose you think the Quidditch girls are lying in wait for you," Sirius snapped.
"There are more dangerous people in this world than a few crazed girls," Remus said.
All six of them were quiet while Sirius worked it out.
"Remus, do you really think –"
"I don't know," he said. "Can you break the wards?"
"Of course," Sirius said. "But Remus, in case I die, I just want you to know –"
Lockhart snorted, rather too loudly.
Peter whirled around, grasping his wand. "Who's there?"
"Is that Pete?" Sirius said.
"Well, he's no Dark wizard," Remus said cheerfully, and blasted open the door.
"Hello there, you two," Sirius said, eyeing Peter and Ellie with revulsion. "Good of you to open up the lab for us."
Peter gestured to the corner with his wand. "There's somebody over there," he said.
"Well, go on," Sirius said. "Blast them into oblivion."
Peter lowered his wand, scowling. "That's your job, dung brain."
"Fine." Sirius pulled out his wand and showered the corner with ice water.
"Shit," James yelped, leaping like a salmon.
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Take the cloak off, please."
He did. "I hate you all," he said, and stormed off.
"I'm very sorry," Sirius said to Peter and Ellie, "but could you two please find another room? It shouldn't be too hard, this school must have a hundred empty classrooms."
They left, reluctantly. Sirius locked the door behind them.
"Now," he said, "where were we?"
Lockhart's eyes considered falling out of his head, but then they decided to stick around and watch.
Remus leaned against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Something about if you died," he said. "What did you want me to know?"
"Oh." Sirius blushed. "Just that if I died, you could take whatever of my stuff you wanted."
"Even your cauldrons?"
"Yeah."
Remus gave him another searching look and said, "How about we get started?"
"Of course," Sirius said. And much to Lockhart's astonishment, they actually began mixing a potion.
"Well, I was wrong," Lockhart thought, watching Remus sort thorns and Sirius crush wolfsbane. "They aren't in love after all."
Two long and boring hours later, Sirius and Remus finally left to let the potion boil. Lockhart stretched carefully and went over to the workbench, hoping to discover what potion they were making, and particularly if it was illegal. However, he was disappointed; there was not a scrap of parchment except for one bit scribbled over with cryptic notations in Sirius's cryptic hand. That meant one of two things: either they had both memorized the recipe, or they were experimenting with something new altogether. Frowning deeply, Lockhart returned to Gryffindor.
"So?" James greeted him. "Were you wrong?"
"I couldn't find out what they were doing," Lockhart admitted, sitting down next to James. "Potions isn't exactly my area of expertise."
James snorted, but let it pass. "What exactly were they putting in it?"
Lockhart listed off everything he could remember, and James almost smiled.
"I think I know," he said.
"Well, what is it?"
"You didn't tell me when you thought you knew, so I'm not going to tell you," James said gleefully. "That's only fair, don't you think?"
"Gryffindors are such bastards," Lockhart said, earning himself a few black looks from others in the common room. "All this crap about fair play –"
"It can be quite useful sometimes," James said, smirking. "You could learn a lot from Gryffindor."
"Learn a lot from you, you mean."
James was about to reply when Remus came downstairs.
"Lovely day," Lockhart greeted him.
"Maybe," Remus said, "if you like rain." He left.
"It's no use," James said.
"What's no use?"
"Remus doesn't want to be your friend."
"What makes you think I want Remus to be my friend?" Lockhart snapped. "He obviously hates me."
"That doesn't seem to stop you." James was still smirking. "Slytherins never know when to quit."
"You're being a prat," Lockhart informed him. "And stop hogging the cushions."
James just smiled beatifically. "I know what they're making," he said.
"I'd like to kill you," Lockhart said, "but you just aren't worth the effort."
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To Be Continued
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Acknowledgments: Since I've never played Quidditch, I based that scene on my experience in the Marching 110. Yeah, so what, I'm obsessed. Also, I would like to thank thistlemeg because her review for the last chapter gave me a really brilliant idea. (Speaking of which, why didn't I get any evil e-mails about not posting for over a month? People, you disappoint me.) So yeah, that should show up in part seven. I am having huge doubts about this story, but since I'm on spring break, maybe I'll actually get something done on it instead of just stewing.
Now this is just me ranting about the evils of Potter fanfiction, so feel free to skip if you like.
A Couple of Things that Piss Me Off.
1) Stories that spend the first few paragraphs telling me things I already know, namely what Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is, and Quidditch, and the Dursleys, and such like trivia. I would just like to say to these authors: I have read the books you know… and you're boring me.
2) Stories in which Hermione is suddenly of age during her fifth year for the purposes of having a relationship with Snape, or someone of his generation. Okay, the Time Turner shtick was ingenious the first time, but it's still impossible. I figured this out once – if Hermione re-did two hours every day for all of her third year (assuming a 180-day school year), that is still only fifteen days. So don't go making her a year and a half older please.
All right, I feel better, now stop listening to me and review.
