Tripping Down the Aisle
Chapter Seven: The Quidditch Match
----
Saturday, 22 November
Five months, five days
It wasn't Lily's fault, James decided as he pulled on a sweater, that she was so naive where Pretty-Boy Prewett was concerned. She was just one of those people who insisted on seeing the best in people...even girlfriend- stealing tossers.
Lily herself entered the room now, toting a Honeydukes bag, which she set down next to the bed before dropping onto it next to him. "I'm so glad you're going to go through with this," she said for possibly the millionth time since he'd woken up this morning.
James grunted in reply, ruffling his hair in the back.
Lily looked down at her hands, then back up at him and tried again. "Gideon says he's looking forward to it."
Gideon also says he wants you in a red teddy serving him strawberries. "Uh- huh."
Lily bit her lip, then smiled; a very broad, mischievous smile that could have any number of different results. "Love," she began.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you doing this?"
James looked down at his shoes and recited, "Because I love you."
This seemed to be the answer that Lily was anticipating (as it always was-- whenever she asked a question, it was usually a safe bet to just say, "Because I love you" in reply...though that sometimes backfired), because she reached for the Honeydukes bag and pulled it into her lap. "You know, I was thinking," she said slyly, sticking her hand in the bag and feeling around for something. "You do an awful lot of things for me just because you love me."
"I know," James grumbled.
Lily ignored the resentful tone. "And so, I thought I'd...repay you for all those little favors."
His head snapped up, cheeks flaming as she withdrew from the bag a very large jar of Honeyduke's mint chocolate sauce--his favorite kind. "When you asked if I was going to be clothed entirely in chocolate, it got me...thinking. Since I never let you...do...stuff like this, I thought I'd indulge you." She smirked. "I rather thought you could find a thing or two to do with this."
It was a little warm in the room all of a sudden. "I...I can think of several," James agreed, pulling on the neck of his sweater.
"Mm, I'm glad," Lily replied, leaning in to kiss him. He pulled the chocolate to him with one hand, and with the other, started to lift up her shirt.
He was quite disappointed when she pushed his hand away and broke off the kiss, rather abruptly. Ignoring his splutters of indignance, Lily took the chocolate back from him and dropped it back into it's bag.
"Think about those things when you're at the match," she said, her breathy, Seductress!Lily tone of voice suddenly replaced by a very coyly matter-of-fact one. James was deeply saddened. He liked Seductress!Lily.
"B--but--but," he sputtered aas Lily stood up and exited the room, playfully swinging the Honeyduke's bag back and forth as she walked. He jumped up from the bed to follow her down the hall. "How...what...why...?"
Lily actually laughed, which James did not find very nice. He was suffering, and she was laughing? She stopped walking and abruptly dropped the bag, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him again, a much longer, less hesitant kiss than the one before. James liked snogging Lily very much, but knowing that he could be snogging her whilst pouring chocolate over her sort of lessened his enthusiasm for the activity at hand. When she broke away, she sort of sighed and started to play with his hair. "You always need motivation to do anything, Jimmy," she said softly, "and I am merely giving it to you."
"No, you're not giving it to me, that's the problem," James grumbled.
Lily giggled. "You'll get it," she promised. "If you can get through this afternoon without killing Gideon."
"Lily, it might not be an afternoon! I forget how little you know about Quidditch!"
She shook her head. "Don't try to play that card."
"I--I am playing it. It is face up on the table. Read it and weep."
Lily smirked. "All right, just because I don't yell out plays in my sleep-- "
You would think, James thought wryly, that after a year and a half, she'd let that one go. "It was a phase," he said graciously. "Anyway, the point is that this game could last days! Weeks! Months!"
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "You are such a drama queen," she said affectionately.
"I am not!" James protested. "I'm being realistic! Did you know, Lily, that the longest Quidditch match ever was five and a half months? And you know my desire to be a part of history. This might be my shot. It just might come at a price."
"A price," Lily repeated dully.
"That's right."
"And what price is that?"
"Gideon Prewett's head on a stick."
Lily sighed and rested her forehead against his chin, his cue to put his arms around her. "James, we've been through this," she said. "I love you, okay? There is no twisted, secret love affair going on between me and Gideon. Promise."
He grunted.
She lifted her head and smiled. "Is your masculinity secure now? Can you go?"
James gave a very over-dramatized sigh. "Yes, I suppose so."
***
They were a little under an hour early for the match. Prewett insisted that this was purely an accident, that he had merely read the time on the tickets incorrectly. James thought that Pretty-Boy rather enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable, and that they were here simply for his own sick entertainment.
In his lap, James balanced his Arrows pennant, his six bottles of Butterbeer (for the entire game, of course--unless Prewett really started to annoy him, in which case he'd just have to use them to knock him out cold), and his program. James made quite a meal of adjusting them before Gideon cleared his throught and said, "So...Lily's told me, but I always forget...how long have you been together?"
He was not talking about Lily now. James's grip tightened on his pennant. "It'll be four years in February," he responded tightly.
Prewett smiled toothily. "She never tells the story of how you got together, though," he said.
That wasn't entirely true, James thought. When she got drunk, Lily often launched into a very generous, detailed retelling of the story. Of course, he wasn't going to tell Prewett that, though. Ruffling his hair, he said, "It's really a boring story, actually. Overrated." He flashed his best false smile. "Sorry." In truth, Lily didn't much like him telling the story himself, as she seemed to be under the impression that he embellished when he told it--funny, Lily always commented wryly, how there was always a lot more sex and a lot less yelling in his version.
Prewett nodded, looking down at his hands. "That's not what I heard from her," he said lightly, putting his thumbnail in his mouth and chewing on it thoughtfully.
"If she likes the story so much, then why doesn't she tell it?"
"If I remember correctly, she said that she didn't want to crack your icy exterior and reveal the marshmallow on the inside," Prewett deadpanned.
I am not a marshmallow, James thought indignantly. "She said that, huh?" he asked tersely.
Prewett grinned around his fingernails. "No," he replied. "I made that up."
James closed his eyes. Why am I here? "Ha," he said dully, not even making an effort to smile.
"Actually," Prewett went on, noting James's less-than-enthusiastic reaction to his joke and frowning a little, "I heard the story from Remus Lupin, but, y'know, it's always more interesting to hear it from someone directly involved."
"Remus was directly involved," James informed him coolly. "He's one of my best friends. He was there. His account of what happened is just as good as mine."
Prewett paused for a moment, holding James's determined glare. Finally, he removed his hand from his mouth, and wiping it on the legs of his slacks, sighed, "Look, Potter, I know you don't like me."
"You're not at the top of my Christmas list, no," James responded bluntly. He could just see Lily putting the chocolate sauce in a James-proof safe. She could probably sense what he was saying She was probably pouring the sauce down the drain right now...in spite of himself, James sighed wistfully.
"...but I don't really know why," Prewett was saying.
As if James actually going to give him the satisfaction of a reply! "Prewett, are you religious?"
Prewett looked surprised at the question, which, to him, came out of nowhere. "Erm...no...not--not really...no. Why...?"
"I'm not either," James told him. "But, in Lily's room at her parents' house, there's this embroidered...thing...hanging on her wall. It has the Ten Commandments on it. Are you familiar with the Ten Commandments, Prewett?"
"I can't say that I am," Prewett responded dryly, interested to see where this was going.
"Well, one of them is 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.'"
Prewett stared. "How--how is that relevant?" he finally managed to ask.
James almost sighed in exasperation. Some people were just so thick. "You're in violation of the Commandment, Pretty-Boy," he spat.
"But...Lily's not your wife," Prewett pointed out.
"Not now," James said exasperatedly. "But she will be."
"And you're not my neighbor."
James blinked. "I don't know that. I don't know where you live."
Prewett bit out, "I live in Sussex."
"Oh," James responded. "Well, I could live in Sussex, you don't know."
He smirked. "Unless you and Lily live separately, you don't live anywhere near Sussex."
"Yeah, but I could."
Prewett sighed. "Potter, I don't feel that way about your girlfriend."
"I prefer fiance," James corrected primly.
Prewett raised a blonde eyebrow. "In any case," he said blankly, "I don't feel that way about Lily. At all."
"You wanna hear something funny, Prewett?" James asked, forcing a laugh. "You must be a crap Auror, because you suck at lying."
Prewett narrowed his green eyes. "You really are a stupid, jealous prat," he snapped. "Even if I did feel that way for Lily--which, as I apparently have to reiterate, I don't--I wouldn't act on them, because that's a really low, scummy thing to do. And even if I did try to act on these hypothetical feelings, it would never happen. Lily wouldn't have me." He took a breath. "She's marrying you, Potter."
James paused, considering this. "There were a lot of 'what-ifs' in that speech," he said slowly as he thought.
"So?" Prewett bit out harshly.
"So, that obviously means you've been thinking about it." Prewett was right, of course. Lily was marrying James, and he did like to think that she wouldn't ever go after another guy.
When James tuned back in, Prewett was rambling, "...she's a great girl, Lily; she's pretty, she's smart, she's funny, she's...."
"Prewett, I am this close to deciding not to levitate you six hundred feet above this stadium, do not make me change my mind," James intoned, rubbing his temples.
Prewett glared, but obeyed.
***
Sirius, though he certainly understood Hestia's reasons for turning him down, still could not admit defeat. Because, after all, he still liked her very much--very much indeed-- and Professor McGonagall had alwyas said that he could accomplish anything when he put his 'horribly stubborn' mind to it.
He didn't see how this was much different.
So Sirius did what anyone seeking romantic help should do: he went to see Moony.
***
Moony's place was small; a three-room flat with sad blue-and-white striped paper starting to peel from the walls. His furniture was sparse, but due to his 'restricted income' as he called it, he hadn't been able to afford much of anything. Both Sirius and James had offered him a room, but Moony always insisted that he was 'fine'. He had pride, that was for sure.
"So," Remus said, pouring boiling water into two mismatched teacups at the kitchen stove, "what was so terribly important that you just had to talk to me about?" He put a teabag in either cup and carried them to the ancient, understuffed green sofa, where Sirius was sitting. "Sugar?"
"Rum," Sirius amended, taking a silver flask from his robe pocket.
Moony allowed his mouth to twist into its trademark wry smile as Sirius poured some rum into his cup. "Really, Sirius."
Sirius gulped down a few sips of alcohol-tinged tea, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and began, "You know the girl from Kent? The one Dumbledore assigned me?"
"Mm-hm," Remus replied around his teacup.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, I need help."
Moony frowned. "Help on what to ask her?"
"No," Sirius responded bluntly. "Help--help like you gave James."
Remus smiled a little and set down his teacup. "Sirius, you're going to have be a tad more specific, because I've helped James with a number of things, like walking home from the pub after he polished off an entire bottle of vodka by himself, or trying to decide whether or not he was a sex addict..."
"Hey, why didn't he come to me with that?" Sirius interrupted. "I am an expert on all things sexual."
"Yes, we know," Remus muttered, pouring himself more tea. "I don't think I slept in that dorm room at all seventh year, between you and James."
Sirius grinned fondly. "Yeah, that was great."
Remus added sugar to his tea and stirred it. "But we're not here to reminisce. What did you want to ask me about?"
Sirius downed his tea. "Erm," he said, "I asked her out."
"Who?"
"Hestia. The girl from Kent?"
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, well, I didn't tell you for a reason," Sirius said flatly, bringing out his flask and taking a swig of rum. "Turned me down."
"Oh," Remus said, leaning back on the sofa. "That kind of help."
****
A/N: So, I just thought I'd clear up a couple of things from the last chapter.
A lot of people (well, a few) said that they thought that Sirius hated his brother. He does. But he didn't hate his brother when he was eight, because he didn't know what he would turn out to be. And as for it making him sad, well, wouldn't you be sad if a member of your family went completely wrong? You'd be mad at them, but you'd also feel a loss. Or, at least, I would.
And, yes, the drawn eyebrows were inspired (in part) by Grandmere from The Princess Diaries. But my grandmother, who is, like, eighty, does it too. But I love my grandma. She's not evil. :)
And....::woot!:: I made 300 favorites' listers on Tuesday!!! Squee, squee, squee, a million times squee!! Thank you so, so much to everyone who put me on there, I feel all warm and fluffy inside. ::sobs::
See you in eight...whenever that may be. :)
~Ashley
Chapter Seven: The Quidditch Match
----
Saturday, 22 November
Five months, five days
It wasn't Lily's fault, James decided as he pulled on a sweater, that she was so naive where Pretty-Boy Prewett was concerned. She was just one of those people who insisted on seeing the best in people...even girlfriend- stealing tossers.
Lily herself entered the room now, toting a Honeydukes bag, which she set down next to the bed before dropping onto it next to him. "I'm so glad you're going to go through with this," she said for possibly the millionth time since he'd woken up this morning.
James grunted in reply, ruffling his hair in the back.
Lily looked down at her hands, then back up at him and tried again. "Gideon says he's looking forward to it."
Gideon also says he wants you in a red teddy serving him strawberries. "Uh- huh."
Lily bit her lip, then smiled; a very broad, mischievous smile that could have any number of different results. "Love," she began.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you doing this?"
James looked down at his shoes and recited, "Because I love you."
This seemed to be the answer that Lily was anticipating (as it always was-- whenever she asked a question, it was usually a safe bet to just say, "Because I love you" in reply...though that sometimes backfired), because she reached for the Honeydukes bag and pulled it into her lap. "You know, I was thinking," she said slyly, sticking her hand in the bag and feeling around for something. "You do an awful lot of things for me just because you love me."
"I know," James grumbled.
Lily ignored the resentful tone. "And so, I thought I'd...repay you for all those little favors."
His head snapped up, cheeks flaming as she withdrew from the bag a very large jar of Honeyduke's mint chocolate sauce--his favorite kind. "When you asked if I was going to be clothed entirely in chocolate, it got me...thinking. Since I never let you...do...stuff like this, I thought I'd indulge you." She smirked. "I rather thought you could find a thing or two to do with this."
It was a little warm in the room all of a sudden. "I...I can think of several," James agreed, pulling on the neck of his sweater.
"Mm, I'm glad," Lily replied, leaning in to kiss him. He pulled the chocolate to him with one hand, and with the other, started to lift up her shirt.
He was quite disappointed when she pushed his hand away and broke off the kiss, rather abruptly. Ignoring his splutters of indignance, Lily took the chocolate back from him and dropped it back into it's bag.
"Think about those things when you're at the match," she said, her breathy, Seductress!Lily tone of voice suddenly replaced by a very coyly matter-of-fact one. James was deeply saddened. He liked Seductress!Lily.
"B--but--but," he sputtered aas Lily stood up and exited the room, playfully swinging the Honeyduke's bag back and forth as she walked. He jumped up from the bed to follow her down the hall. "How...what...why...?"
Lily actually laughed, which James did not find very nice. He was suffering, and she was laughing? She stopped walking and abruptly dropped the bag, putting her arms around his neck and kissing him again, a much longer, less hesitant kiss than the one before. James liked snogging Lily very much, but knowing that he could be snogging her whilst pouring chocolate over her sort of lessened his enthusiasm for the activity at hand. When she broke away, she sort of sighed and started to play with his hair. "You always need motivation to do anything, Jimmy," she said softly, "and I am merely giving it to you."
"No, you're not giving it to me, that's the problem," James grumbled.
Lily giggled. "You'll get it," she promised. "If you can get through this afternoon without killing Gideon."
"Lily, it might not be an afternoon! I forget how little you know about Quidditch!"
She shook her head. "Don't try to play that card."
"I--I am playing it. It is face up on the table. Read it and weep."
Lily smirked. "All right, just because I don't yell out plays in my sleep-- "
You would think, James thought wryly, that after a year and a half, she'd let that one go. "It was a phase," he said graciously. "Anyway, the point is that this game could last days! Weeks! Months!"
She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "You are such a drama queen," she said affectionately.
"I am not!" James protested. "I'm being realistic! Did you know, Lily, that the longest Quidditch match ever was five and a half months? And you know my desire to be a part of history. This might be my shot. It just might come at a price."
"A price," Lily repeated dully.
"That's right."
"And what price is that?"
"Gideon Prewett's head on a stick."
Lily sighed and rested her forehead against his chin, his cue to put his arms around her. "James, we've been through this," she said. "I love you, okay? There is no twisted, secret love affair going on between me and Gideon. Promise."
He grunted.
She lifted her head and smiled. "Is your masculinity secure now? Can you go?"
James gave a very over-dramatized sigh. "Yes, I suppose so."
***
They were a little under an hour early for the match. Prewett insisted that this was purely an accident, that he had merely read the time on the tickets incorrectly. James thought that Pretty-Boy rather enjoyed seeing him uncomfortable, and that they were here simply for his own sick entertainment.
In his lap, James balanced his Arrows pennant, his six bottles of Butterbeer (for the entire game, of course--unless Prewett really started to annoy him, in which case he'd just have to use them to knock him out cold), and his program. James made quite a meal of adjusting them before Gideon cleared his throught and said, "So...Lily's told me, but I always forget...how long have you been together?"
He was not talking about Lily now. James's grip tightened on his pennant. "It'll be four years in February," he responded tightly.
Prewett smiled toothily. "She never tells the story of how you got together, though," he said.
That wasn't entirely true, James thought. When she got drunk, Lily often launched into a very generous, detailed retelling of the story. Of course, he wasn't going to tell Prewett that, though. Ruffling his hair, he said, "It's really a boring story, actually. Overrated." He flashed his best false smile. "Sorry." In truth, Lily didn't much like him telling the story himself, as she seemed to be under the impression that he embellished when he told it--funny, Lily always commented wryly, how there was always a lot more sex and a lot less yelling in his version.
Prewett nodded, looking down at his hands. "That's not what I heard from her," he said lightly, putting his thumbnail in his mouth and chewing on it thoughtfully.
"If she likes the story so much, then why doesn't she tell it?"
"If I remember correctly, she said that she didn't want to crack your icy exterior and reveal the marshmallow on the inside," Prewett deadpanned.
I am not a marshmallow, James thought indignantly. "She said that, huh?" he asked tersely.
Prewett grinned around his fingernails. "No," he replied. "I made that up."
James closed his eyes. Why am I here? "Ha," he said dully, not even making an effort to smile.
"Actually," Prewett went on, noting James's less-than-enthusiastic reaction to his joke and frowning a little, "I heard the story from Remus Lupin, but, y'know, it's always more interesting to hear it from someone directly involved."
"Remus was directly involved," James informed him coolly. "He's one of my best friends. He was there. His account of what happened is just as good as mine."
Prewett paused for a moment, holding James's determined glare. Finally, he removed his hand from his mouth, and wiping it on the legs of his slacks, sighed, "Look, Potter, I know you don't like me."
"You're not at the top of my Christmas list, no," James responded bluntly. He could just see Lily putting the chocolate sauce in a James-proof safe. She could probably sense what he was saying She was probably pouring the sauce down the drain right now...in spite of himself, James sighed wistfully.
"...but I don't really know why," Prewett was saying.
As if James actually going to give him the satisfaction of a reply! "Prewett, are you religious?"
Prewett looked surprised at the question, which, to him, came out of nowhere. "Erm...no...not--not really...no. Why...?"
"I'm not either," James told him. "But, in Lily's room at her parents' house, there's this embroidered...thing...hanging on her wall. It has the Ten Commandments on it. Are you familiar with the Ten Commandments, Prewett?"
"I can't say that I am," Prewett responded dryly, interested to see where this was going.
"Well, one of them is 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife.'"
Prewett stared. "How--how is that relevant?" he finally managed to ask.
James almost sighed in exasperation. Some people were just so thick. "You're in violation of the Commandment, Pretty-Boy," he spat.
"But...Lily's not your wife," Prewett pointed out.
"Not now," James said exasperatedly. "But she will be."
"And you're not my neighbor."
James blinked. "I don't know that. I don't know where you live."
Prewett bit out, "I live in Sussex."
"Oh," James responded. "Well, I could live in Sussex, you don't know."
He smirked. "Unless you and Lily live separately, you don't live anywhere near Sussex."
"Yeah, but I could."
Prewett sighed. "Potter, I don't feel that way about your girlfriend."
"I prefer fiance," James corrected primly.
Prewett raised a blonde eyebrow. "In any case," he said blankly, "I don't feel that way about Lily. At all."
"You wanna hear something funny, Prewett?" James asked, forcing a laugh. "You must be a crap Auror, because you suck at lying."
Prewett narrowed his green eyes. "You really are a stupid, jealous prat," he snapped. "Even if I did feel that way for Lily--which, as I apparently have to reiterate, I don't--I wouldn't act on them, because that's a really low, scummy thing to do. And even if I did try to act on these hypothetical feelings, it would never happen. Lily wouldn't have me." He took a breath. "She's marrying you, Potter."
James paused, considering this. "There were a lot of 'what-ifs' in that speech," he said slowly as he thought.
"So?" Prewett bit out harshly.
"So, that obviously means you've been thinking about it." Prewett was right, of course. Lily was marrying James, and he did like to think that she wouldn't ever go after another guy.
When James tuned back in, Prewett was rambling, "...she's a great girl, Lily; she's pretty, she's smart, she's funny, she's...."
"Prewett, I am this close to deciding not to levitate you six hundred feet above this stadium, do not make me change my mind," James intoned, rubbing his temples.
Prewett glared, but obeyed.
***
Sirius, though he certainly understood Hestia's reasons for turning him down, still could not admit defeat. Because, after all, he still liked her very much--very much indeed-- and Professor McGonagall had alwyas said that he could accomplish anything when he put his 'horribly stubborn' mind to it.
He didn't see how this was much different.
So Sirius did what anyone seeking romantic help should do: he went to see Moony.
***
Moony's place was small; a three-room flat with sad blue-and-white striped paper starting to peel from the walls. His furniture was sparse, but due to his 'restricted income' as he called it, he hadn't been able to afford much of anything. Both Sirius and James had offered him a room, but Moony always insisted that he was 'fine'. He had pride, that was for sure.
"So," Remus said, pouring boiling water into two mismatched teacups at the kitchen stove, "what was so terribly important that you just had to talk to me about?" He put a teabag in either cup and carried them to the ancient, understuffed green sofa, where Sirius was sitting. "Sugar?"
"Rum," Sirius amended, taking a silver flask from his robe pocket.
Moony allowed his mouth to twist into its trademark wry smile as Sirius poured some rum into his cup. "Really, Sirius."
Sirius gulped down a few sips of alcohol-tinged tea, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and began, "You know the girl from Kent? The one Dumbledore assigned me?"
"Mm-hm," Remus replied around his teacup.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, well, I need help."
Moony frowned. "Help on what to ask her?"
"No," Sirius responded bluntly. "Help--help like you gave James."
Remus smiled a little and set down his teacup. "Sirius, you're going to have be a tad more specific, because I've helped James with a number of things, like walking home from the pub after he polished off an entire bottle of vodka by himself, or trying to decide whether or not he was a sex addict..."
"Hey, why didn't he come to me with that?" Sirius interrupted. "I am an expert on all things sexual."
"Yes, we know," Remus muttered, pouring himself more tea. "I don't think I slept in that dorm room at all seventh year, between you and James."
Sirius grinned fondly. "Yeah, that was great."
Remus added sugar to his tea and stirred it. "But we're not here to reminisce. What did you want to ask me about?"
Sirius downed his tea. "Erm," he said, "I asked her out."
"Who?"
"Hestia. The girl from Kent?"
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't know that."
"Yeah, well, I didn't tell you for a reason," Sirius said flatly, bringing out his flask and taking a swig of rum. "Turned me down."
"Oh," Remus said, leaning back on the sofa. "That kind of help."
****
A/N: So, I just thought I'd clear up a couple of things from the last chapter.
A lot of people (well, a few) said that they thought that Sirius hated his brother. He does. But he didn't hate his brother when he was eight, because he didn't know what he would turn out to be. And as for it making him sad, well, wouldn't you be sad if a member of your family went completely wrong? You'd be mad at them, but you'd also feel a loss. Or, at least, I would.
And, yes, the drawn eyebrows were inspired (in part) by Grandmere from The Princess Diaries. But my grandmother, who is, like, eighty, does it too. But I love my grandma. She's not evil. :)
And....::woot!:: I made 300 favorites' listers on Tuesday!!! Squee, squee, squee, a million times squee!! Thank you so, so much to everyone who put me on there, I feel all warm and fluffy inside. ::sobs::
See you in eight...whenever that may be. :)
~Ashley