Disclaimer: Do I really need to add this? I mean, if I owned every
character in this fic do you really think I'd be sitting in this crappy
house where my most prized possessions are a dead cactus I still have yet
to dispose of and the guy who I think- erm, I mean know- lives in my
answering machine? I didn't think so... I do own Severus' pretty little
book, though. Unless the word of God is copyrighted. that is. I'd hate to
piss God off.
Author's Notes: Hm, now what to place here? Perhaps that this is my first and, most likely, last fic. *nod* Sounds good. Oh, medication! Huzzah! 0.o Erm, anyhow. As previously stated, this is my first fic. Bear with me through my ramblings, grammar and misspellings- all that crap. Now, on with the insanity!
Beta Notes: I feel sad that I was not mentioned. This could be because I declared myself your beta after you sent this to me. Anyway, I'm Aly and I helped write this fic.
Okay, I didn't, but I did get my bestest best man (Don't ask. Em's a girl.I think. I never asked.) involved in Harry Potter, so go meh!
~*~
Sunlight filtered in through the windows of James Potter's dormitory and splashed brilliantly on his features. Slowly his eyes began to flutter open, adjusting to the brightness. Finally his surroundings began to come into view- and then he screamed.
Looming over him was the grinning face of Sirius Black. "Good morning, Sunshine!" he sang. And rather prettily, too, or so he seemed to think. (Is prettily even a word? No matter. For the benefits on this story, it shall be.)
"Sirius?" James pushed him off, bewildered. "What in the bloody hell are you doing?"
Ignoring his question, Sirius grinned. "Damn, Prongs. I thought you'd never wake up! You've almost missed the feast. But anyhow," he continued, interrupting James, who had been trying to get another word in, "you're up just in time for presents! Happy Christmas!"
"Presents?" James Potter looked to where Sirius had motioned. There, stacked at the foot of his bed, were perhaps half a dozen chaotically wrapped boxes- obviously from Sirius himself. Then he looked back at Sirius who's expression and composure hadn't altered in the slightest. "But, Sirius, it's the middle of September."
"Yeah, and?"
"Christmas is in December."
"No it isn't."
James coughed. "Yes, yes it is."
"Is not!"
James had certainly had enough of this. It was well known that when Sirius was stuck on something, he'd stubbornly argue to the end. Either way, James was fighting a loosing battle. Just like the Battle of Bunker Hill. Or was that a victory? I guess it would depend on which side you were on. And since the majority of people in this fic are British, it shall be an American victory. Like when they made American cheese.
So, anyhow, after James had pulled on his robes, and shook his head at Sirius who was humming the theme song to 'Little House on the Prairie' while making James' bed, he made his way down to the common room. There, just at the bottom on the steps stood Lily Evans and his friend Peter Pettigrew. Usually James would have merely waved and begun doing something to annoy Lily and humour Peter, but today was different. (Perhaps because it's Christmas? Hm?)
Peter and Lily both wore lavender leotards, and in each of their wand hands they carried blow torches. The two seemed to be arguing over something, and, to say the least, James couldn't have cared less. Apparently Peter wasn't a mind reader, because after James nodded hastily, attempting to pass them, Peter quickly blocked his path and asked him to settle their disagreement. With a reluctant sigh James agreed.
"Alright," began Lily. "Peter and I have been discussing this for quite awhile now, and-"
She was cut off mid sentence by James who, with a smirk in place, asked, "Is this really of any importance?"
Lily hardly found the situation funny, and the stern look upon her face gave James all he needed to know that this wasn't a laughing matter. "Alright, alright- go on."
Peter spoke this time. "Okay. If toast always lands butter side down, and a cat always lands on her feet, what would happen if you strapped toast on the back of a cat?"
James blinked. "Well. Er... I suppose it would depend on the weight of the butter, if there was jam involved, and whether it was a tabby or a calico." Really he didn't have a clue as to what they were talking about, but hey, if it got them to shut up-
"I knew it!" exclaimed Peter.
After Peter had rubbed it in to Lily how he had finally beat her at a question of logic and that she owed him five chocolate frogs, James decided that it was time to leave. But first...He just had to know what was up with the ballet outfits and welding gear. So he asked.
Divination," replied Lily. James decided not to pry further.
After waiting till the staircases changed twice on him (he always suspected they did it merely out of spite) James looked at his watch. It was only a little after ten. Relief swept over him as he confirmed that he wasn't late for Transfiguration.
As he made his way down the corridor, he realized that it seemed a hair more dark than usual. James almost laughed aloud at himself. Since when was he afraid of the dark? So he continued on his way to the classroom. After awhile he check his watch again. Now he was late. It seemed to be taking longer to get there as well. And then he heard it, softly at first, but growing. The unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Great. That was just what he needed, to be caught outside class by one of the faculty. The sound had gotten even closer now, and James turned around, expecting to see someone to haul him to detention. But there was no one. James shrugged it off and turned back around to continue on his way. And he screamed for the second time that day.
Severus Snape stood in front of him, eyeing him suspiciously. James smirked and crossed his arms when he realized whom it was. "And why are you out of class, Snivellus?"
Severus simply grinned (something highly rare for ol' Sevvie). In one quick motion Snape held up a large, leather-bound book, shoving it into James' face. James fell back in surprise. But now he could get a better look at the book. On the front, in large golden letters, read "BUYBLE."
As James rose to stand, Severus advanced once again. "Would you like to save your soul?"
"Huh?"
"Would you like to save your soul?" he repeated once more. "It's Freeeeee!" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~ Ah, the results of boredom.
Beta Notes: And me pestering you to write this up again and post it here.
Author's Notes: Hm, now what to place here? Perhaps that this is my first and, most likely, last fic. *nod* Sounds good. Oh, medication! Huzzah! 0.o Erm, anyhow. As previously stated, this is my first fic. Bear with me through my ramblings, grammar and misspellings- all that crap. Now, on with the insanity!
Beta Notes: I feel sad that I was not mentioned. This could be because I declared myself your beta after you sent this to me. Anyway, I'm Aly and I helped write this fic.
Okay, I didn't, but I did get my bestest best man (Don't ask. Em's a girl.I think. I never asked.) involved in Harry Potter, so go meh!
~*~
Sunlight filtered in through the windows of James Potter's dormitory and splashed brilliantly on his features. Slowly his eyes began to flutter open, adjusting to the brightness. Finally his surroundings began to come into view- and then he screamed.
Looming over him was the grinning face of Sirius Black. "Good morning, Sunshine!" he sang. And rather prettily, too, or so he seemed to think. (Is prettily even a word? No matter. For the benefits on this story, it shall be.)
"Sirius?" James pushed him off, bewildered. "What in the bloody hell are you doing?"
Ignoring his question, Sirius grinned. "Damn, Prongs. I thought you'd never wake up! You've almost missed the feast. But anyhow," he continued, interrupting James, who had been trying to get another word in, "you're up just in time for presents! Happy Christmas!"
"Presents?" James Potter looked to where Sirius had motioned. There, stacked at the foot of his bed, were perhaps half a dozen chaotically wrapped boxes- obviously from Sirius himself. Then he looked back at Sirius who's expression and composure hadn't altered in the slightest. "But, Sirius, it's the middle of September."
"Yeah, and?"
"Christmas is in December."
"No it isn't."
James coughed. "Yes, yes it is."
"Is not!"
James had certainly had enough of this. It was well known that when Sirius was stuck on something, he'd stubbornly argue to the end. Either way, James was fighting a loosing battle. Just like the Battle of Bunker Hill. Or was that a victory? I guess it would depend on which side you were on. And since the majority of people in this fic are British, it shall be an American victory. Like when they made American cheese.
So, anyhow, after James had pulled on his robes, and shook his head at Sirius who was humming the theme song to 'Little House on the Prairie' while making James' bed, he made his way down to the common room. There, just at the bottom on the steps stood Lily Evans and his friend Peter Pettigrew. Usually James would have merely waved and begun doing something to annoy Lily and humour Peter, but today was different. (Perhaps because it's Christmas? Hm?)
Peter and Lily both wore lavender leotards, and in each of their wand hands they carried blow torches. The two seemed to be arguing over something, and, to say the least, James couldn't have cared less. Apparently Peter wasn't a mind reader, because after James nodded hastily, attempting to pass them, Peter quickly blocked his path and asked him to settle their disagreement. With a reluctant sigh James agreed.
"Alright," began Lily. "Peter and I have been discussing this for quite awhile now, and-"
She was cut off mid sentence by James who, with a smirk in place, asked, "Is this really of any importance?"
Lily hardly found the situation funny, and the stern look upon her face gave James all he needed to know that this wasn't a laughing matter. "Alright, alright- go on."
Peter spoke this time. "Okay. If toast always lands butter side down, and a cat always lands on her feet, what would happen if you strapped toast on the back of a cat?"
James blinked. "Well. Er... I suppose it would depend on the weight of the butter, if there was jam involved, and whether it was a tabby or a calico." Really he didn't have a clue as to what they were talking about, but hey, if it got them to shut up-
"I knew it!" exclaimed Peter.
After Peter had rubbed it in to Lily how he had finally beat her at a question of logic and that she owed him five chocolate frogs, James decided that it was time to leave. But first...He just had to know what was up with the ballet outfits and welding gear. So he asked.
Divination," replied Lily. James decided not to pry further.
After waiting till the staircases changed twice on him (he always suspected they did it merely out of spite) James looked at his watch. It was only a little after ten. Relief swept over him as he confirmed that he wasn't late for Transfiguration.
As he made his way down the corridor, he realized that it seemed a hair more dark than usual. James almost laughed aloud at himself. Since when was he afraid of the dark? So he continued on his way to the classroom. After awhile he check his watch again. Now he was late. It seemed to be taking longer to get there as well. And then he heard it, softly at first, but growing. The unmistakable sound of footsteps.
Great. That was just what he needed, to be caught outside class by one of the faculty. The sound had gotten even closer now, and James turned around, expecting to see someone to haul him to detention. But there was no one. James shrugged it off and turned back around to continue on his way. And he screamed for the second time that day.
Severus Snape stood in front of him, eyeing him suspiciously. James smirked and crossed his arms when he realized whom it was. "And why are you out of class, Snivellus?"
Severus simply grinned (something highly rare for ol' Sevvie). In one quick motion Snape held up a large, leather-bound book, shoving it into James' face. James fell back in surprise. But now he could get a better look at the book. On the front, in large golden letters, read "BUYBLE."
As James rose to stand, Severus advanced once again. "Would you like to save your soul?"
"Huh?"
"Would you like to save your soul?" he repeated once more. "It's Freeeeee!" *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~ Ah, the results of boredom.
Beta Notes: And me pestering you to write this up again and post it here.
