Chapter Four: Varying Degrees of Confusion
Monday, 5 January1:12 p.m., on the train back to school
Just seen Subject.
I think she's done something new to her hair; it seems shorter or lighter or something. She looked especially pretty, though that may just have been the tight fit of her sweater.
Not that I was looking. Because I wasn't.
Except for the part where I was.
Anyway, I gave her the books, and she actually seemed pleased. She gave me some very nice smiles, and when I asked her to kiss me in payment for the books (oh, that came out wrong—I didn't mean it like that; I just meant that, for my Christmas present, she could kiss me) I'm pretty sure she considered it. Before yelling at me.
Well, maybe 'yelling' is too strong of a word. It was more like…scolding. Making me feel impossibly stupid.
Not that it takes much or anything.
Wednesday, 7 January2:40 p.m., Potions
Spent the majority of History of Magic passing notes with Subject.
She called me 'darling'.
Sarcastically, but there it is, a piece of paper with 'James, darling' written on it in Subject's handwriting.
Of course, she also told me that she can't stand me in the same sentence, but it's something.
"James, darling, I cannot stand you."
I will treasure those words until the day I die. And when I die, I will have them engraved on my tombstone.
Later
Moony had the audacity to question my interest in Subject. I am currently not speaking to him.
Padfoot says that Subject was flirting with me in the notes.
The Sentence has taken on new meaning. It no longer means that shecan't stand me, but that she is actually wildly in love with me.
Obviously, I'll be shopping for an engagement ring within the month.
Saturday, 10 January
Approximately 11:30 a.m., Dormitory
Have spent an hour and a half in the lavatory, trying to decide which side of my face is more appealing to the eye. I would still be in there, but a hysterically irritable Wormtail kept banging on the door and yelling that he needed to shower, among other things. He was remarkably undeterred when I told him what I was doing, and finally he just did an Alohomora on the door and forcibly removed me from the bathroom.
He is so melodramatic. And astonishingly strong.
Clearly, my experiment is more important than Wormtail's need to wash his hair, but of course, I am the only person who sees this. Am forced to continue said experiment with this sad little hand mirror I found under Padfoot's pillow.
While examining my face from every angle, it has occurred to me that I have a very nice face. And that isn't just me being arrogant, either. I have high cheekbones, nice eyebrows, and boyish freckles under my eyes. And my eyes are not just the windows to my soul. They are the windows to lots of other pleasant things, such as money, cake, Quidditch, and certain parts of Subject's anatomy.
As for which side of my face is more attractive, I'm sort of leaning towards the right. There's this little piece of my hair on the right side that is starting to turn inward, on account of the fact that I haven't had a haircut in about four months. It's a bit dashing; makes me look very casual and cheeky.
However, on my left side, if I incline my head to the right and look up, the light sort of hits my eye and makes it glint in a very charming manner. It makes me see purple spots for about an hour afterward, but it's a dramatically stunning sort of trick. Add one of my little half smiles, and Subject will be throwing her knickers at me in no time.
Tuesday, 13 January
1:29 p.m., Charms
Mr. Padfoot wishes to play Hangman.
No fucking way.
Hey. Language. Wouldn't want Mr. Prongs's virgin eyes to be exposed to naughty words like th—
Let the record show that Mr. Prongs and Mr. Padfoot are currently poking each other with their wands. Sadly, I mean that literally.
Mr. Wormtail simply wishes to get the point across.
And that point is?
That there's no way I'm ever playing Hangman with you ever again.
You used the word 'ever' twice in that one sentence.
When did you suddenly become a grammar Nazi? Between this and the mission thing, I don't recognize your writing anymore.
You forgot to capitalize 'mission'.
Padfoot, I'm going to shove this wand into your stomach and twirl your intestines around it like spaghetti.
I'd like to see you try it with just the one point. You need at least two tines on a fork to twirl spaghetti. Points for imagery, though.
Don't try to sway me with compliments; I'm still not going to play Hangman with you, either.
Just because I have a healthy appreciation for competition—
Padfoot, let me remind you of what happened the last time we agreed to play Hangman with you: you lost to Wormtail, waited until he was alone, transformed, and tried to maul him. Do you recall that?
You're exaggerating.
Do I have to show you the scars?
I saw enough of your leg when it happened, thanks.
Berk.
Pillock.
Friday, 16 January
6:00 p.m., Kitchens
Saw Subject talking to Walsh, a sixth-year Hufflepuff prefect. She was leaning against a wall, holding her books, and he was standing in front of her, saying something that made her laugh. He was smiling an awful lot for my liking, and I think he may have touched her shoulder.
I wanted, of course, to go and pummel him, but I didn't, firstly because Subject would probably frown upon it, and secondly, because I realized that she was probably only trying to make me jealous. Silly girl.
So I waited until she headed off to the library and then I snuck up behind Walsh, grabbed him by the front of his robes and slammed him against the wall. I told him that if I ever even heard that he'd been talking to Subject I'd make sure he suffered a long, slow, torturous sort of death. He was positively quivering with fright by the time I let him go.
And then just as he was about to run off to cry in a corner, I thought of something and ran after him. He cowered at the sight of me, but I only told him not to tell Subject that I'd threatened him with bodily harm or else the bodily harm would come faster.
And he said, "How—how would I tell her that you threatened me if I'm not allowed to talk to her?"
This is a good point, but I said, "Just don't do it" and let him go.
See, now that she's accomplished making me jealous, she won't have the unpleasant side effect of having Michael Walsh chasing after her while all she wants to do is snog me senseless.
The things I do for her.
Sunday, 18 January
Approximately 3:00 a.m., Common Room
It's so late (early) that I may pass out right on this page, but I have to copy this down because it's such a brilliant story.
The blokes and I decided to go out to Hogsmeade yesterday (well technically, earlier tonight) so at about ten we huddled under my Cloak and went through the Honeydukes passage (it's one of the only shops that stays open past nine), said hello to Delia at the counter, and headed to the Three Broomsticks for a bit of a nightcap.
So we're sitting at the bar, drinking gin and casually flirting with Rosie when all of a sudden Sirius bangs his head on the bar and keeps it there.
He'd only had two drinks so I knew he hadn't passed out, so I poked him in the ribs and asked him what his problem was.
He whispered, out of the corner of his mouth, "Look at the booth by the bathrooms."
I did, and there, with a bunch of girlfriends, was Sirius's little blonde conquest from Christmas break.
Well, I couldn't just let that lie there, could I?
No, I couldn't, is the answer to that question.
So I casually alerted Moony and Wormtail, who know the story of Sirius and Conquest because I told them about it the second I saw them on the train back to school, and we all started talking to Sirius. Loudly. Using his name in as many places as possible.
Finally, the girl looked up from her gillywater and saw Sirius, who was at the time threatening to put my eyes out with the pin on my Head Boy badge. She smiled real wide and actually came over.
She's really quite pretty, if you like the blonde-haired-brown-eyed-ridiculously-skinny-with-a-sizeable-bust-type girls. I think Sirius said she was a lawyer of some sort. Or maybe her boyfriend was a lawyer. Something like that.
So she comes over and taps Sirius on the shoulder. She smiles, and says, "Hi, Sirius. Remember me?"
He forced a smile and said, "Sure I remember you."
She bit her lip, still smiling—Subject wears this expression sometimes when she's flirting; I've seen it. Not directed at me, of course, but I've seen it—and said, "I never got to tell you what a good time I had last time when we were…together."
Peter was quavering with held in laughter by now and Remus was biting his lip so hard I was sure he was going to bite straight through it. I myself managed to keep a poker face. "Oh, yeah, yeah, me, too," Sirius said in a strained sort of fashion.
"So," the girl said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and tracing a line down Sirius's chest with her finger. "Do you have to work tomorrow or…?"
Moony, Wormtail, and I got it simultaneously: Sirius didn't tell her that he's seventeen. She thinks he has a job. At an actual place of business. Where people pay you for doing some variation of work.
The expression on his face was the single greatest thing I've seen in a very long time.
"A-actually, I do have to get up early," Sirius told her, staring me in the eye. Clearly, he was trying to tell me that if I did anything stupid, I would regret it. I pretended not to understand.
"Yeah," Peter said. "You wouldn't want to miss that Ancient Runes test you have tomorrow, would you?"
The girl stared at Sirius, confused. "You're a teacher?"
"A teacher?" Remus said before Sirius could say anything. "Oh, no. Sirius is a student."
She rounded on Sirius, looking surprised and kinda disgusted, and he lamely said, "I'm a very good student."
Wednesday, 21 January
1:10 p.m., Potions
As of twelve minutes ago, I am eighteen years old.
I keep mentioning my birthday in loud tones whenever Subject's around, in hopes that she will give me eighteen birthday spankings, but if she's noticed, she has not said anything. Or made any moves to swat my arse.
Am extremely disappointed.
Later
Just returned from raucous birthday party downstairs.
Subject came in from the library at about seven, glanced around, and asked me what was going on. I told her that it was my birthday, and that my friends were throwing me a party. She frowned and said that I'd better keep it quiet.
Then she went upstairs.
No 'Happy Birthday James' or gifts of lingerie.
Oh—oh—painful memory, painful memory.
Thursday, 22 January
Mr. Padfoot is of the opinion that Mr. Prongs is royally screwed.
Mr. Moony seconds this opinion and would like to add that, had Mr. Prongs listened to what Mr. Moony said, Mr. Prongs would not be in this situation.
Mr. Wormtail also agrees with Mr. Padfoot, and wishes for Mr. Moony to get off his high horse before it throws him off.
Say, Mr. Moony, would you attempt to give us a detailed transcript of what Mr. Prongs is saying to his Subject, so that we can make fun of him accordingly?
Mr. Moony would be honored to:
As of right now, Mr. Prongs is telling his Subject that he apologizes for doing the following, not necessarily in this order: snogging Subject, professing his love for Subject, and making Subject cry.
Mr. Wormtail is still of the opinion that Mr. Prongs is a horrible kisser, thus causing his Subject to sob because he cannot fulfill her dreams.
Mr. Padfoot wholeheartedly agrees. Carry on, Mr. Moony.
Mr. Prongs is adding that he cannot deal with crying girls, and that his boggart is most likely a crying Subject.
Mr. Padfoot is of the opinion that Mr. Prongs is a full-fledged liar. Mr. Prongs's boggart is a chicken.
Seriously?
Yeah, bad childhood experience; I'll tell you later.
Anyway, as we just saw, Mr. Prongs and Miss Subject were just berated by the imperial Professor McGonagall, and Mr. Prongs is explaining to Miss Subject that he indeed meant everything he said.
Wonder if he really does, though?
Who knows? Li--Subject apparently doesn't believe him, which I guess we will be hearing about later.
Yeah…Mr. Wormtail wishes to announce that he will be out of the dormitory at the time Mr. Prongs decides to take out all of his frustrations out, lest he start to take them out on Mr. Wormtail again.
Oh, come off it, Wormtail, you stopped singing eventually. And the boils are clearing up nicely.
Think Mr. Prongs'll be upset that we're writing in his precious Stalking-Subject-Journal?
Mr. Padfoot is of the opinion that Mr. Prongs will be thrilled.
Later
I kissed her.
I kissed Subject.
My lips were on her lips. I touched her lower back. I could feel the waistband of her skirt through her robes. I got close enough to her to feel her breathing, to feel her knees press against my legs, to smell her hair.
I'm still in shock.
I…I can't believe I did that.
Her mouth tasted like orange juice.
She's furious at me, of course.
I don't know how it happened. I just—I wanted to talk to her. She wanted nothing to do with me when I went to see her at breakfast, though, and she actually left the room. I followed her, and we ended up fighting in the hallway about how she can't stand to be around me. I was yelling at her. I almost never yell at her. I make jokey little comments and she yells, but I don't.
But this time she just—she got me so frustrated, and I've been trying so hard to get her to like me and none of it seems to be getting me anywhere and I'm just kinda tired. You know? I'm tired and I'm angry but I really like her so I can't just give up; it's not in my nature but this situation absolutely sucks and I feel like such a prat all the time when I'm around her and she won't give me a break at all and—
Well, it all came out today.
I guess I sorta lost it after I told her I loved her.
Oh, my God, I forgot about that part.
I actually said, "Lily, I love you."
Except I mostly said it out of spite.
Which makes me horrible.
But I think I might, actually. Love her, I mean.
I don't know. Never been in love before, so I don't know. Is this what it's like? Being frustrated and angry all the time but trying to hide it by holding on because you're just sure that it hasto get better sometime, but then it doesn't?
If so, love sucks.
I hate love.
I don't know what came over me. She was just angry, and then I had her by the elbow—I wasn't holding her hard or anything, but I'm a lot stronger than she is—and I kept asking her to tell me what she hated about me, but she was insisting that she didn't hate me, which I'm beginning to think is a lie, and then she started getting hysterical and I just…kissed her. Just like that. No warning or anything. Just kissed her. I don't even think I realized I was doing it before I noticed that my eyes were closed and there was a mouth under mine that tasted like orange juice.
And I swear—though I'm starting to come to terms with the fact that I must've imagined it—she opened her mouth about a fraction of an inch.
But before I could do anything about it she jerked away from me, and she was crying and she told me I was (am, actually) a prick and ran away.
Well, not ran away, not like in her romance novels, but she stalked off.
I apologized, but I don't think she's very pleased with me.
Don't see why.
I'm a bloody fantastic kisser.
Friday, 23 January
Approximately 9:00 a.m., Charms
So glad I thought to put an Invisibility Charm on last night's entry.
And now, since I mentioned it, I'm going to have to put one on this one. Entry, that is.
I'm feeling a lot better. Not as angsty and 'woe-is-me' as last night.
I drank orange juice with breakfast this morning without thinking about it, though, and…yeah. Everything sorta came rushing back and I accidentally stabbed Moony's watch with a fork. There are four little holes in the face now, but it's still working, so that's good.
Monday, 25 January
7:35 a.m., Breakfast
Have come to the logical conclusion that Subject is the most difficult girl on the planet.
Must remember never to leave this in the hands of Padfoot, lest he get antsy to fill his smartass quota in class again.
Maybe I should go back and read those romance novels…didn't one of her friends say that Subject really wishes some of that sappy stuff can happen to her?
I'll try that. I'll try the sappiest thing I can find.
Okay, new mission: Get Subject's Romance Novels Away From Her, or Project GSRNAFH, for short.
Note to self: create more witty, clever, and pronounceable name for Project GSRNAFH.
Also: be careful not to mention Project GSRNAFH in front of Padfoot-- he's forgotten about me reading those books over Christmas, but if he got wind of this, every person who ever attended this school will know.
Later
History of Magic
Subject is avoiding me.
Fine. That's fine. She can avoid me.
I don't care.
Watch me not care.
This is me not caring.
Yep, I don't care…I don't care at all.
------
A/N: Was this nonsensical to anyone else?
I had to change the dates for a lot of the entries (I really, really suck at math) and for the 25 January entry, I took out a few lines to coincide with the second entry for 22 January (did that sentence make any sense?). I actually do like the 22 January entry, and that's why I pulled those sentences; I liked that version of events better.
I got nominated for awards!! Four of them!! I'm nominated for one of the top five authors, best MWPP fanfic, best overall fanfic, and best romance fic (really? romance?) for "Deflating". Links currently aren't working on the Site of Doom, but there is a link on my lj. So…vote for me. Because it would be awesome if I won. :)
The reviews are consistently amazing. I love waking up to reviews. And eating lunch to them. And going to sleep to them.
Thanks to:
Pixie Wildfire (fangirling, woot!), ThouandI, MissMrprk, Lily Among the Thorns-89 (drunk people=instant comedy gold. Okay, maybe 'gold' is stretching it. Sterling silver, maybe ;), Cacrocks1, Jewls5, Tinstar (I imagine Remus would make sure that there is no way in hell Harry could get his hands on this. The boy's traumatized as it is), martian doll, Christy Corr (no, Seth left Captain Oats on his desk. The self-centered ho. Didn't even bother to take his beloved horse with him. Or his girlfriend…that's a show I would like to see: Seth and Summer on the open seas…), flossie1 (I see opportunities for funniness, I take them. Sirius is a comedy god in himself, but there are very few people who can write him well. Tabitha Jones writes a brilliantly three-dimensional and funny Sirius, and I've yet to see anyone who can really compare to that. I hope the Lily action was sufficient in this chappie. Especially since there was action. ;) Lady Kalypso (your James story was great! Fortunately, I don't write boys' names on my notebooks, I write quotes. Which is, you know, sadder. And I'm glad you're thinking of ways to capitalize on my hypothetical success. Capitalism, woot! And, ahem, I'd like to book an appointment with Adam Brody, stat. ;), George is hot-MrsMoony (nah, there's nothing wrong with a brother/sister being born late in life. I was twelve when my brother was born which is, okay, not the same thing, but still. It was simply from Prongsie's point of view. And he's a silly little spaz :), taiyourshoes (I'd love to write sitcoms, actually. That's something I'm extremely interested in.' And I so do the Chandler dance. Every time I get reviews, I sit in my chair and do a sort of—sitting down version. As for the 'one of the most popular l/j writers'…it is kinda cool to read someone's fic and glance at their favorites' list and it's like, oh, hey, there's me…) KelleBelle (thanks for taking time to review!), walkingcensure (I love you too! And I'm sorry you had to learn about S&M here…and not on TV like I did :) sumrandumperson, Pineapple Queen1 (loyal quote person, woot! I like quotes because it's interesting to me to see the difference between what some people think is funny and what others do), Senna2, Lunawolf (exactly, he's a guy. He does not function normally. :), FrostQueen4eva, Leap of fate (I shall be on the lookout for the blue-tongued skink), Kat44 (Lily does find it in the next [and possibly last] chapter), tta (lol, comparing Mia and James in my head….fifteen-year-old American princess….eighteen-year-old English sex-obsessed berk…although in 'Princess in Pink' she does spaz a lot about getting to second base…), SiriusSweetie7, Luna-Elentari, Star19, snickerdoodle10201, Diabla666 (…comedic genius? Really? ::glows for about an hour and a half::), snapesofwrath (that's a clever name, btw), J.R. (if I had money, I would pay for your dry-cleaning. Unfortunately, I don't, so…chapter? :), shadowfox5, Gizelle, Goddess of Gorgeousness (I have no idea how it's complicated. James is the single easiest person to understand: see girl. Girl pretty. Snog girl in closet), Green Zephyr (nope, no summer school for me—and I fought for my summer so, yay. And I hate when people write boys as overly sensitive and melodramatic. I don't know any boys like that out there…except on soap operas), plumkin (I know fourteen-year-olds who can't write an essay or read what they have written to save their lives), Marauders Chick (woot, light parade for me. And I'd like to see Jamesie escape with all of his limbs intact if he called Lily 'Subject'…even if it was hysterically funny), Georgia (he's starting to realize that, oh, maybe I shouldn't've said that. Starting. Silly little boy. ;), starchica, and taarspinkchick1029 (::inhales:: all the in-jokes I can think of… "Oh, my God, I can so see you watching gay porn"… "Angel is my gay boyfriend"… "Yeah, like, what was on Sex and the City last night?"… "If you know what I mean…"…. "And I was like, 'oh, my God' and she was like, 'no way' and I was like, 'mm-hmm, biotch'"…."We went to the convenience store and put vodka in our Pepsis when no one was watching"… "Keep it real"… "Mr. Jones cares"…. "Stripper!Brannon ["I'm going to take my pants off now"—purple boxers!]… "trendy skankoid ho"… Julian's wedding dresses…I can't think of any more. Except for the scary tree house. That I have to drive by every time I go home.)