Playing the Part
By: Shrk-bait
Chapter 10: Burdens of a Conscience
You will know the real meaning of love when you fall in love. -- A.Terance Dinesh
"Oh for goodness sake, Mr. Boffa. The line is, 'God pardon sin! Wast thou with Rosaline?' not an inaudible muffle emitting from that moving mouth of yours." Professor Harris scolded, covering her frustrated features with the palm of her hand, fingers curled over so slightly over the edge of her face. "This is not rocket science, people."
"Remind me again, professor, what rogget sigh-lence is again . . . It may have slipped my mind for a bit." A rather dull looking boy inquired, scratching his head barbarically.
"Just forget about it, Mr. Mitchell. Just forget about it." She heaved, muttering through her stumpy fingertips.
The boy shrugged and continued his pathetic attempts to memorize his lines. The exhausted Professor sighed, scanning the room for any signs of incompetence or trouble. She had divided up the cast into different practice groups, blobs of students according to their importance in the play. It was supposed to be a methodical, ingenious plan, flawless and success-guaranteed.
She should've known better. She should've known that nothing is flawless, and nothing is ever a doubtless success. And that was the poor professor's mistake.
"Potter! We need to memorize these lines! Stop your sluggish lounging around and actually put some effort into something for a change." Lily snapped furiously.
He remained laid back on the table's smooth surface, one knee bent while the other hung slightly off the edge. His chest rose and fell with each breath, calm and steady.
"I put effort into many things, for your information." He drawled, lazily covering his face with the opened book.
"Oh really. Why don't you enlighten me? Name one." She challenged, eyes glinting savagely.
"Alright, then. I will." He retorted, rising from his reclined position and entering a astute thinking pose. "I put effort in . . . pranking . . . playing Quidditch . . . aaaand . . . annoying the hell out of you, m'dear."
"Oh, indeed Potter. Those things are just so important that they need an extra amount of effort, as opposed to Head Boy duties, which are quite expendable."
"Too true, though in case you haven't gotten a spare moment to notice, I have been holding up my end of the deal. You, on the other hand, have failed to abandon your incessant nagging. Really, Evans, a deal's a deal."
"Ha! Holding up your end of the deal, my arse. But that's beside the point. We need to memorize lines."
"Really, Evans? Because I thought we were just going to keep arguing over a subject that is clearlytilted in my favor."
"Shut it."
Silence ensued, James still lying on the table while Lily stared at him, an aggravated glare on her face.
"Well? Are you going to read your line or what? We're wasting time." She blurted out, her hands rested upon her hips.
"I thought you told me to shut it? I was just following orders . . ." he smirked, meeting her bright orbs with his calm ones.
"GAH! You're absolutely infuriating! I can't do this! I thought I could, but I can't. I just want to . . ."
"Want to what, Evans? Snog me senseless?" he winked suggestively. "I've heard that's quite popular with you ladies."
"Oh GOD, no! Pompous pig. I would rather die a thousand deaths than touch you, let alone kiss you."
"Well that's a real confidence booster." He muttered sardonically.
"It's not like you need any more, Potter. Confidence, that is. You're practically drowning in it."
"Wh—" James opened his mouth to respond, but was abruptly cut off by Professor Harris' arrival.
"How are your lines coming along? The rest of these scalawags aren't doing so well, and I'm hoping that you two will help change that. Maybe if they see you getting along and showing dedication towards the play, it'll inspire them to put in a bit more passion into their performances." She explained, completely oblivious to the guilt-ridden faces in front of her.
Lily glanced at James, whose face was equally filled with culpability. He shrugged his shoulders at her, nodding his head for her to speak.
"Erm . . . it's coming along . . . there are a lot of lines to memorize, but I'm sure Pott—James and I can manage." Lily told her, crossing her fingers behind her back, her childish habit when she was forced to stretch the truth.
"That's wonderful. I knew you'd get along magnificently. The connection between you is just perfect for this play." She cooed. "I have great confidence in the both of you. By all means, carry on."
Lily and James both tried desperately hard to hide their disbelieving looks. She's crazy, I tell you,Lily thought, her cheeks sporting a tinge of pinkness.
Sirius, Remus, and Kira, who were practicing lines a few tables away snickered, clearly aware of the irony in the Professor's praises.
An unidentifiable feeling nagged at Lily's conscience as she exited the Great Hall after rehearsals. If you could call arguing with James Potter for over 2 hours, a rehearsal, that is.
What was it? Stress? Exhaustion? Or guilt?
Guilt. Her mind was overwhelmed with it. She had delivered obviously wrong information, given the trusting professor a false sense of security. Harris thought that her chosen Romeo and Juliet were the perfect people for the corresponding parts. The two people in Hogwarts who had a real connection, who could manage to convey the deep love between the characters to the audience of fellow students and Ministry of Magic officials.
She's no where further from the truth, Lily thought, sighing heavily. Potter and I . . . well, we're probably the worst people who could've been chosen – ever.
Lily hated disappointing people. She absolutely dreaded the feeling of letting down people who were sincerely counting on her. And she would do almost anything to avoid that heart-wrenching emotion at the pit of her stomach that she got when they looked at her with saddened eyes – even if it meant spending more time with someone she couldn't stand being around without hexing.
"Potter! I need to talk to you." She called out, her voice timid.
James looked up, stopping his conversation with Zeno Boffa, the 2nd year Hufflepuff playing Friar Lawrence.
With one last whisper and head nod, James sent Zeno down the hall and sauntered over to Lily, who shrank as he approached.
"You called?" he said expectantly, confusion riddling his handsome features.
She forcefully grabbed his arm, dragging him into an empty classroom across the hall. Poking her head outside the door, she nudged it closed and turned to face him.
"My my, Evans. I had no idea you wanted me this badly." He pushed her shoulder gently and wiggled his eyebrows up and down.
"Don't make me vomit, Potter. I rather enjoyed my breakfast and don't really care to lose it." She retorted scathingly, causing James to wince slightly.
"Sorry. What is it you wanted to talk about, then?"
She stared at him for a moment, partially out of shock for the sincerity of his apology. She caught herself, remembering that it was James Potter who was delivering this fraud line. That's all it was, a line.
"Well, I highly doubt that you felt the least bit guilty for fighting when the professor is counting on us to pull this off, but I did. And I just thought . . . maybe we could . . . oh god, this is going to be bloody hard . . ."
"You just thought that we could get along. At least for the remaining duration of the play, so that we wouldn't make Hogwarts look like a crap school and wouldn't make complete fools out of ourselves. Am I right?" he finished for her.
Her emerald eyes grew wider, then narrowed unbelievingly.
"Alright, who are you and what did you do with the real Potter?" she poked his shoulder roughly.
"Haha. Very amusing. As hard as it may be to believe me, I too felt a pang of guilt, considering we are the Head Boy and Girl and we still haven't managed to settle differences after 7 years of being fellow Gryffindors." He insisted, massaging the spot where she had poked him.
"I'm sorry. For saying you don't put any effort into anything you do, for insulting you, for everything, I guess. I have no right to judge you. Hell, I don't even know you." She apologized, flinching at the simplicity of submitting herself to saying sorry to James Potter.
"W-wait . . . did you just apologize . . . to me?" he did a double-take, gaping incredulously at her.
She nodded, groaning inwardly. Great, now the big-headed prat side of Potter will be revealed, she thought. Oh wait, every side of Potter is big-headed. My mistake.
"There's only one thing I can say to that. I'm sorry, as well. Probably sorrier than you are, considering I've done many more horrible things to you." He grinned. "Not that they weren't fun. You've got to know, Evans. You're an awfully easy person to bother."
"So, I've heard. It's agreed then? We keep our arguing, disputing, and hating quiet until after the play is finished." She hesitantly extended her hand.
He shrugged, smirked and took her hand, shaking it.
"As simple as that was, I have a looming feeling that this is going to be much more difficult." James told her as he held the door of the classroom open, motioning for her to pass through.
"Tell me about it." She grumbled, stalking swiftly out of the room.
For once, the Head Boy and Girl were not fighting, not arguing, not at each other's throats. Needless to say, the students dining in the Great Hall were shocked. They quickly thought nothing of it and decided to enjoy the strange peace while it lasted.
This wasn't very long, considering the event that followed the evening meal.
Lily was sitting off to the side of the Gryffindor Common room, away from the Marauders, who were currently occupying the couches in front of the fire. In front of her lay her Ancient Runes homework. She was poring over it frantically, occasionally blowing a few stray hairs out of her face.
James entered through the portrait hole, carrying his massive stack of textbooks and rumpled papers. He made his way over to her table, vision slightly hindered by the volumes in his arms. He finally reached the table, slamming the weighty books upon the hard surface.
She gazed up, a hint of irritation flashing in her eyes before reverting back to her composed form.
"Evans, I was just wondering if you could patrol the school alone tonight. We could split up the shifts, I guess. If you could let me have the earlier one, that would be great. I have prior engagements that I mustattend to. What do you say, Evans?" James asked nonchalantly, though he knew Lily would be less than pleased.
Turns out, he was right.
"Potter! I thought you were going to handle your Head Boy duties! Why can't you patrol?" she exploded, eyes fired and glaring.
"Erm . . . I can't exactly tell you. I'm sworn to secrecy."
"Sworn to secrecy my arse. You're such a liar! I bet you're just going to snog some girl. Or go gallivanting with your little group of miscreants. I promised not to yell at you and cause a disruption, so I won't. Unlike some people, I don't break my promises." She collected her books and stormed off, huffily.
He abandoned his load at the empty table and threw himself onto one of the couches, extending his feet lazily and yawning loudly.
"Now look at what you did, Prongs! You've upset your soul mate, and every sane person knows you can't go on doing that!" Remus joked.
"Mate, where are you off to tonight anyway? I know we're not doing anything pressing on the account of Moony and his damned homework, but . . ." Sirius began, realization dawning on his face. "Unless Lily was correct in accusing you of sneaking off to a secluded spot simply to snog. Who is it? Does she have a friend?"
"No one, you idiot! If you must know, which I don't think you do . . . that 2nd year, Zeno Boffa, the Italian Hufflepuff boy playing Friar Lawrence, is having some issues with his part. He's a brilliant actor, I've seen that. The way he speaks, the way he can bring life to the words, it's amazing. He just can't seem to memorize lines or get over his stage fright. So I offered to help him out." James explained tiredly, running a stray hand through his messy head of hair.
"Oh. Bloody hell, Prongs! Why didn't you just tell her that? Lord knows it would've saved everyone a bit of trouble, not to mention help avoid another quarrel between you two." Peter asked, curiously awaiting James' response.
James shrugged imperturbably, adding, "He told me to keep it a secret. I guess he's ashamed. And you guys know I can't break that promise. I wouldn't be telling you, if I didn't trust you to keep it a secret."
"Right. If only Lily knew that you're only trying to help someone else." Remus pondered.
"It doesn't matter. She still thinks I'm the immature prat that asked her out constantly and pranked everyone in Slytherin for the hell of it in 5th year."
"She wouldn't if she knew that you've matured slightly. That we've all matured slightly." Peter suggested.
"Even Sirius. Seeing how he is now, it's hard to imagine how he was when he was immature . . ." Remus nodded, grinning.
"Huh? What? Eh?" Sirius looked around confusedly, a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean stuck up his nostril.
The boys burst into fits of laughter, while Sirius determinedly attempted to dislodge the bean from the inside of his nose.
"He's such a pompous presumptuous jerk. Telling me he's sorry, telling me how he felt guilty and thought we should try to get along. Bollocks!" Lily fumed, crossing the Common Room in a flurry.
"I'm assuming this 'pompous presumptuous jerk' you're referring to is none other than James." A voice remarked indifferently.
Lily spun around to see Sirius lying on the couch, Quidditch through the Ageshanging loosely from his hands.
"And you say that why? Perhaps it's the fact that he's probably snogging some air-headed twit instead of patrolling like he promised he would do. Or maybe it's the fact that he doesn't care about anyone but himself and his own bloody games!" she hissed scathingly. "So what makes you think that I am talking about Potter?"
"Wrong on both counts, m'lady. I reached this obvious conclusion because of the accepted fact that a) he is the one person you rant about the most, b) who else could anger you so easily? And c) you'd give everyone else a chance to explain themselves; everyone except James." He told her bluntly.
"Whaaat? That is so . . . untrue!" she stammered, shocked by Sirius' unconcealed honestly.
"You said he doesn't care about anyone but himself. If you say that, you obviously don't know James Potter very well. Honestly, he's one of the most caring people I've ever met. Just because he doesn't broadcast all the selfless things he does to the world, doesn't mean he never does them."
"B-but, he's always so arrogant. You'd think he'd want to get recognition for these supposed good deeds."
"You see, Lily, that's the thing about James. You know him, to some extent at least. He'll boast about practically anything – Quidditch, N.E.W.T scores, natural talent. But when he helps people, when he gives up his valuable time for someone else or just does something strangely heroic, he simply refuses to tell anyone. Except us, that is. It's just in his nature."
She beckoned him to continue, gazing intently into his stormy gray eyes. They were so honest, trying so hard to convince her of the decency of his best friend.
"He's not into recognition for those types of things. In his own words, the act itself is self-gratifying. It's as if James doesn't even need people to know about it because that isn't important, when in actuality, it is. It's the kind of genuine sense of humanity that no one ever notices. Haven't you ever wondered why people respect him? Why they listen to him? It's because they know what kind of person he is. They know that despite all the immature things he's done, all the stupid, worthless pranks we've played over the years, he'll always be there – no matter what."
There was silence. Sweet golden silence, as Lily contemplated the foreign concept that James Potter could possibly be a decent person.
"Erm . . . I have to patrol. G'night." She stumbled, trudging out of the portrait hole and into the empty corridor, her head buzzing with unfinished thoughts.
"Actually, I caught this ruffian snogging some hot young thing in a nearby broom closet, and I was just accompanying him back to the Common Room, just to be safe." A smooth voice resounded through the hallway. "We wouldn't want him wreaking more havoc on the slumbering students of this fine establishment, now would we Mr. Grimes."
"I'm watching you, Potter. You may have slipped past the Headmaster's watchful eye, but we warned. You won't avoid mine that easily." The cranky caretaker advised, shaking a crooked finger at James.
"Dutifully noted, Mr. Grimes. Now, if you'll excuse me, this rule-breaker must be severely punished." James snuck a wink at the younger boy while the old man had turned to hack a cough out of his throat. "Shame about abolishing those old torture instruments, isn't it?"
"Don't get cheeky, Potter. Take the boy and get to bed. Your position as Head Boy doesn't give you free access to the entire school at any and all hours, you know. So scram!" he croaked, shoving James away.
Grimes, the cantankerous caretaker, turned his back and tottered away, unaware the James had saluted him mockingly, causing Zeno to shake with laughter.
"C'mon, kid. Let's go." James suggested, nudging him on the shoulder after the caretaker's footsteps had faded into the silence of the night.
The 2nd year nodded and lumbered up the stairs, James glancing around warily before following suit. Unbeknownst to him, so did another student, one with staggeringly emerald eyes watching him curiously.
They reached the entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room, where Zeno sent him a look of reverence and gratitude.
"Hey, James?" he squeaked meekly.
"Yeah, kid?" he responded, nodding to show his attention.
"Thanks for everything. You're not as bad as Lily Evans says you are." He smiled, giggling nervously.
James chuckled, unperturbed by the information. It was almost expected by now.
"Really? What does Evans say about me?"
"Well, I just heard that she doesn't like you very much. That you don't care about anyone, you're self-centered, egotistical, arrogant . . ." he listed before James stopped him. "But, you're not. After hearing all these things about you, I didn't expect you to even acknowledge my presence, let alone offer to help me. And I just wanted to say thanks. I think you're a damned good Head Boy."
"Thanks. You're pretty keen yourself. Let me know if you need any more help, okay?" James offered, sending him a warm smile and ruffling his hair in a brotherly sort of way.
Zeno nodded understandingly and turned towards the portrait, while James sauntered down the hallway, towards the Head's Tower.
Lily blinked a few times, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to think.
A part of her wanted to believe that he was still the same old Potter, that there was some reward he had to be reaping from helping the young Hufflepuff. There must've been. The James Potter she knew wouldn't sacrifice time for anyone.
Then again, she didn't really know him, now did she?
She continued down the hallway, thoughts swarming in her head, the silence providing a calm atmosphere with little distraction – which just happened to be just what she wanted at the moment.
Perhaps Sirius was right after all . . .