Playing the Part
By: Shrk-bait
Chapter 13: Benefits of Curiosity
You will find as you look back upon your life that the moments when you have truly lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love.
-- Henry Drummond
James tiredly pounded his forehead against book-strewn table, groaning and wondering why he had willingly opted to take so many N.E.W.T classes in the first place.
I was an arrogant, cocky 6th year with ambitions of becoming a top Auror with the mere swish of my wand, he thought, chuckling at his own foolishness. That's why
He studied the page in front of him, massaging his aching temples and struggling to comprehend the complexity of Arithmacy. The next major exam was simply a few weeks away and he had already managed to fall behind, what with Quidditch practices draining his energy and the play taking up all his spare time . . . not to mention assignments in his other classes. And the paper was due the next day, bright and early.
He barely had time to relax with his friends. It reached the extent to where the Marauders were beginning to worry about their old buddy Prongs.
Why is it so hard all of the sudden? I used to be able to breeze through these classes . . . no studying involved. What am I supposed to do, now that everything is so much more difficult, even for me?
He pushed against the desk with his hands, the chair sliding back on the wooden floor. James stretched his taut muscles and removed his glasses, blearily rubbing his weary eyes.
He returned the glasses to the edge of his nose and flopped down upon his unmade sheets. Casually pushing the connecting rim further up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, he uttered another frustrated groan.
James, as you know, this will be your last year at Hogwarts. And probably your toughest as well. You can't keep rejecting help from everyone, believing that you can do everything yourself. Learn a bit of humility, James. Who knows, maybe you'll discover that you're not the only one crazy enough to push yourself to the limit like this. Perhaps you'll discover that some people have more in common with you than you think.
His mother had told him that just before he'd gotten aboard the train. Learn a bit of humility. He was humble – sort of.
So what if he boasted about his natural good looks and athletic abilities? He was James Potter, one of the infamous Marauders, Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. He was entitled to bragging rights . . . wasn't he?
His brow furrowed, recalling the numerous times Evans had reprimanded him for being such an egotistical person. He just brushed it off in the past, convincing himself that it didn't matter what shethought.
Furthermore, he'd spent the last 6 years at Hogwarts acting as if he didn't really need anyone's help.
And now he was paying for it. What could he do, now that he had to admit that he didn't know everything? What would he do, now that he had to admit to requiring a bit of assistance in an area where his own cleverness was of no help to him?
He grabbed a nearby pillow and flung it across the room, frustration etched across his handsome features. For once in his life, James Potter had no one to turn to.
The rest of the Marauders? They weren't even taking Arithmacy, claiming that the work was far too tedious and monotonous; the class, a complete waste of Marauder creativity and time.
James glanced at the small clock sitting upon his dresser. 11:04. He contemplated searching for the Arithmacy professor and begging for a bit of help, but decided against it. The old professor always called it a day earlier than everyone else.
Useless old coot, he thought, grumpily.
James racked his brain for possible options. He could use the invisibility cloak to sneak into the library, but even that would be no use, seeing as how he wouldn't comprehend the complexities of Hogwart's Arithmacy volumes anyway.
"Damn it! Why isn't there anyone in this bloody castle who is awake and actually understands this crap?" he muttered, teeth clenched angrily.
He paused his self-pitying and whining as he heard a faint tune through the wall, floating in through the cracks of the door and the worn wallpaper.
Being the curious and somewhat nosy person that he was, James grabbed hold of the door's handle and followed the weak sound.
He stopped abruptly at the entrance of a room across the hall, a gold plaque with the words "Head Girl" gracefully carved in elegant script. Evans.
EVANS! It was Evans' room directly down the hall from his. It was Evans who was in his N.E.W.Ts Arithmacy class. It was Evans who was awake at this ungodly hour. It was Evans who could help him.
Damn Evans, he pouted, stubbornly folding his arms across his bare chest. Just figures that she would be the only one who could help me. She's probably the one who would refuse before I even got to ask.
James turned, refusing to stoop so low as to ask the girl who detested his guts for help. Knowing her, she would scoff and spit out some witty comment at him, then order him to leave her sight. He would not subject himself to such embarrassing treatment. Never.
He could, of course, pretend to talk to her for some other reason and casually bring up Arithmacy homework. He could pretend as if he was just wondering if she understood it. He would never let her know that he was completely lost, that the textbook was written in some strange language that he would never be able to decipher by himself.
That was his plan. It was a brilliant plan. Evans would be tricked into helping him without even knowing it herself. He refused to give her the satisfaction of knowing that he needed her.
He rapped on the door with his knuckles. Nothing. Once again, curiosity took hold of him. He gingerly turned the handle and pushed the door open.
Her room was oddly tidy, aside from the cluttered desk she was seated at. It seemed as though sleep had gotten the better of her. Her record was still playing softly in the background, lulling her into a tranquil sleep.
James admitted to himself, she was certainly pleasant to look at – especially when she wasn't growling at him all the time. Not that she had been, recently. They'd barely butted heads in the past few days. For some strange reason, he had felt someone watching him, but every time he turned to see who it was, Evans was there, occupying herself with the Charms textbook or studying the contents of her cauldron.
He knocked on the frame of the doorway once more. Sighing, he entered, figuring that Evans was far too deep in sleep to even notice his presence. He glanced over her shoulder, recognizing Lily's notes on McGonagall's lesson on the table.
Suddenly, he heard a tired groan and saw a slight twitch of her lip. A hint of fear passed across his face as he prepared to spring away from her. Too late.
"PERVERT! Get out! Out! What the hell, Potter? You sick pervert! OUT!" she screamed, her eyes bulging with surprise and shock.
Grabbing a pillow off her bed, Lily proceeded to beat him, sending the pillow crashing upon his head. James fell to the floor, struggling to calm her down, while cowardly covering his head with his arms at the same time.
"Stop! Evans! For god's sake, STOP!" he bellowed, wincing at each smack of the pillow.
"W-why are you in my room?" she huffed, fingers clenched tightly on the pillowcase as she caught a glance of the clock. "A quarter past 11, of all times."
"Well, erm . . . I was taking a break from studying and heard some music. I fancied a listen and noticed you had fallen asleep studying. I ended up wondering what you had fallen asleep studying. Then you woke up and began flogging me with your pillow. And, well, here we are." He responded, running a hand through his hair and grinning embarrassingly.
She narrowed her eyes, not quite believing him. She trudged over to the record player and turned it off, watching him like a hawk.
"So, why are you here, really? I can't believe you thought I'd fall for that "I fancied a listen" crap." She scoffed, eyes twinkling mockingly.
"Haha. Very funny. I should've known better. Well, to tell you the truth . . ." he stumbled, not sure where to begin. "I need help with Arithmacy."
There goes my pride, James thought.
"Go on . . ."
"And I figured since you're the only one besides me and a few other students, who are taking the N.E.W.Ts Arithmacy course . . . just maybe you'd find it in your heart to lend a hand. Or a brain, whichever you prefer."
Lily giggled quietly, not realizing that it was James Potter who had caused her to giggle. It surprised the both of them.
"Fine, but you owe me, Potter." She agreed hesitantly.
He grinned, nodding.
"Well? Go get your Arithmacy stuff then! I don't want to waste time." She dictated, pointing to his room.
Grinning apologetically, he slowly backed out of the room as she shook her head.
She sat upon her neatly made bed, both dazed and drowsy. Closing her eyes, Lily replayed what had just happened in her head.
She had been pouring through her Transfiguration notes, trying to grasp a tiny bit of McGonagall's elaborate lesson. The next thing she felt was a warm tingling breath, tickling the soft flesh of her cheek.
And there was James Potter.
For a moment, Lily couldn't decide whether or not it was some sort of strange manifestation of bad pudding or if for some twisted reason, the fates had sent Potter to wake her from such a peaceful slumber.
He was there, doing god knows what. It seemed as if he was watching her sleep, something that only a few people – such as her mother and father – had a right to do.
It was only natural for her to scream!
It took quite a while for her to soak in and return to her somewhat normal sanity level. She tried to concentrate on what he was saying, but for some strange reason, she couldn't.
Though she was a tad bit distracted from what he was saying to really grasp what he was saying, she got the gist of it. He was asking for help. Something she never imagined he would EVER do. She hardly believed it.
He asked me for help, she recalled, scratching her head with pure confusion. Who'd have thought?
The Almighty Potter, asking her for help. Now that wasn't something one saw everyday. He was always prancing around school, clearly sending the message to the world thatJames Potter needed no one. He didn't need permission from the librarian to go into the restricted section, didn't need anyone telling him how to ride a broom, and didn't need people imposing restrictions and boundaries on his life.
And yet here he was, desperate for help. She smirked, glad to hear that the great Potter, who never seemed to care about schoolwork and certainly didn't put extra effort into learning course material, finally realized that he couldn't just slip by.
Perhaps if she helped him . . . it could be construed as penance for believing him to be a complete prat and having so little faith in his decency. It would certainly clear her conscience, at least a bit. She nodded determinedly.
I'll do it. I'll help Potter and I won't remember any of the times he's been a complete jerk. I won't hold a grudge and I'll try hard to be civil towards him, no matter howhe may act, she told herself firmly.
Lily rose from the bed and tore off the woolen robe, rummaging through her belongings for something more comfortable. She grabbed a worn Muggle university sweatshirt and slipped it over her head, just as James reentered the room.
"Ooh. Sorry!" he apologized, fixing his eyes upon the carpeting.
"Oh. It's fine." She muttered nonchalantly, plopping down upon her bed. "Well? Have a seat, Potter!"
"Right. I was about to do that." He nodded, setting his books down upon the floor as he took a seat on Lily's swiveling chair.
"So, what exactly don't you understand?" she asked, after a brief pause of silence.
"Erm . . . just about everything after the first few chapters."
She groaned, sending him a weak smile and messily tying up her hair with a rubber-band. A few strands of crimson came loose, framing the smooth lines of her face. She reached over to grab her Arithmacy book and opened it, studying the text outline. James watched her quietly, discretely studying her movements. Sighing, she looked back up at him and nodded encouragingly.
"Let's get started then, shall we?"
"Loads of thanks, Evans. I think I just might do decently on next week's examination." He grinned confidently, closing the weighty text and leaning back in the chair.
"Right. Well, you should, seeing as how we've spent practically 2 hours re-covering the material that the Professor lectured about in class." She muttered, stretching her legs and cradling the back of her head with her arms. "I've got a lot of work to do, Potter, so if there's nothing else you need . . ."
"But there is!" he exclaimed frantically, sitting up suddenly.
"What?"
"Erm . . . I need to pay you back, for helping me. So, what exactly do you need to work on?" he inquired, once again returning to his normal relaxed state.
"Transfiguration." She grumbled, striding across the room to grab her notes.
"Excellent. That, I can do." He replied happily, his face a broad smile.
She grinned weakly in response, inwardly cursing herself for requiring his assistance. She was supposed to be helping him, not the other way around.
Little did she know, James was the exact same way and neither of them was about to let the other outdo them. James refused to burden Lily without doing something in return, just as Lily refused to ask him for help without providing help herself.
They were two of a kind – two stubborn kids who refused be outdone.
"We're done . . . finally." Lily announced, tossing James her quill and stretching her full body length on the floor.
Somewhere amidst their grueling studying, Lily had ended up sprawled across the floor, papers and books scattered around her. A tornado had hit her room and James found himself wondering if this was what Lily had referred to as her permanent residence in crazy-land.
He caught the quill Lily had hurled at him with a look a slight amusement gracing his face as he stared down at her from the raised position of his seat.
Her lips were curved gracefully in a faint smile, her eyelids fluttering shut as she breathed deeply, her chest rising and falling in accordance.
James reached over to grab his belongings and began to inch out of the room, taking Lily's silence as sheer exhaustion. He paused, wondering if he should at least pick her up off the floor. With her slim figure, it shouldn't be too hard for him, considering the strength he had built up through intense Quidditch training.
He set his books down upon the floor and knelt close to her still body. She looked so peaceful, it was almost a shame to move her and risk pulling her out of her slumber. Then again, it might've been worse to have just left her on the floor. He moved closer towards her, his arms in position to pick her up . . .
"You know what, Potter?" she sat up suddenly, a contemplative expression on her face.
He leaped back, increasing the distance between them. If Evans ever caught him that close to her . . . who knows what she would've thought. He got smacked by Evans once that night and wasn't keen on reliving the past.
"Huh?" he sputtered, exhaling with relief.
"I'm not tired. Usually, I am, but for some strange reason, I can't fall asleep." She piped up, beaming innocently. "What about you?"
"Oh . . . erm . . . actually, you're right. I'm not really all that sleepy." He ran a hand through his hair, grinning embarrassingly.
For a moment, there was silence. Neither of them knew what to say to the other and both were far too proud to simply blurt out a random comment that could possibly make them look foolish.
The stillness was broken by a loud rumble from Lily's stomach, followed by a snort on James' part and a mortifying half-giggle from Lily.
"Hungry?" he guffawed, failing to contain his laughter.
"Humph. You'd be too if you left dinner early and was deprived of any other types of food for the rest of the night." She pouted, a smile escaping from the corner of her lips.
"Let's go, then." He declared suddenly, as if a brilliant idea had just been formulated in his head.
James stood up, brushed off his pants and grabbed her wrist in excitement.
"G-go? Go where? NOW?" she sputtered incredulously from her position on the floor, eyes staring at James' grasp on her wrist. "Are you mad?"
"Some may say so. I prefer mentally unbalanced." He grinned his infamous Cheshire cat grin.
She scowled, wrenching her arm away from James and standing on her own. Once she was standing fully upright on her own, she placed her weight upon one foot with her hands rested defiantly upon her hips, surveying him carefully.
"C'mon, Evans! You, me, and an unlimited supply of food." He proposed, apparently seeing Lily's tentativeness as an exhilarating challenge. "You're hungry, aren't you?"
"Well, yes . . . but, it's against school regulations. We're Head Boy and Girl! We can't go around wandering around Hogwarts in the middle of the night!" she protested, trying not to show her true desire to give in.
"What kind of Heads would we be if we suffered from lack of food and keeled over tomorrow during Charms?" he inquired, gesturing dramatically. "Poor Professor Flitwick would have to stop teaching the class, just to levitate us to the Hospital Wing."
"Fine, but only because I'm absolutely famished." She added, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of having won her over.
"Whatever floats your boat, Evans." He shrugged, smirking with absolute confidence.
He dashed into his room and rummaged through his cluttered trunk, pulling out a airy semi-transparent cloak.
I hope it's wise to show Evans this. I'm not quite sure if I can trust her yet. It's not like we've had the greatest history. But still, for some strange reason, I can't help but want to trust and show her, he thought, slipping into the hallway where Lily was impatiently waiting.
"What took so long, Potter?" she inquired, tapping her foot anxiously.
"You don't want to be caught, do you?" he snapped back as the two climbed out of the portrait hole and into the main hallway.
"What kind of half-wit question is that?" she exclaimed, irritably. "Of course I don't want to get caught! I'm Hea—"
She stopped short, glancing around warily as she noticed that she appeared quite alone in the dark hallway. Shadows of menacing suits of armor stretched across the floor as the flame upon the candlesticks flickered with a slight breeze. James was no where to be seen.
"Potter? Potter!" she whispered, a hint of fear in her wavering voice. "I swear, Potter . . ."
"Shhh! Don't worry, Evans. I'm not going to abandon you." He reassured her, suddenly emerging before her very eyes. "Let's get going. Under here!"
He motioned to the invisibility cloak, which Lily simply gawked at until James pushed her under somewhat roughly.
"W-where did you get this?" she stuttered, shifting her feet alongside James. "And by the way, where exactly do you intend to retrieve this food you promised me?"
"The cloak was a family heirloom and we're headed for the kitchens, of course. Where else would we get food?" he replied promptly, as if it was the most obvious of all answers.
"Riiight. As if you would know where the kitchens are. Dumbledore has never shown me, so I doubt he'd have any reason to show you."
"Ah, my dear, that is where you make your great analysis error. Dumbledore doesn't have to tell me everything. In fact, I'd even be so bold as to say that Dumbledore probably couldn't tell me everything there is to know about this school."
"What are you going on about? You expect me to believe that you know more about this building than the Headmaster himself? You are insane."
"Yes, I expect you to believe me. And yes, I have made it quite clear that my mental condition is quite twisted. Just think about it. We Marauders are infamous for knowing every nook and cranny of Hogwarts and using it to our full advantage at any and all times possible. It's no rumor, Evans. We live up to our name through and through."
"Fine, fine, fine. By all means, continue to lead on, oh great one." She gestured, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Or our secret excursion might just be ruined by the earthquake-like rumbling of my starved stomach. It's quite hard to control, you know. Suppressing its ruckus isn't easy and if we don't hurry up and feed it, I can't make any promises that it won't get us caught. So, let's quicken the pace, shall we?"
"Do you do this often, Evans?" he grumbled, one eyebrow arched over the other.
"Huh? Do what?"
"Randomly babble on and on to whoever will listen?"
"No. I'm only this way around my friends. My friends and the people that I feel the insatiable need to irritate, that is."
"Huh. Figures." He muttered, while the two of them floated down the moving staircase.
James' hands were placed lightly on Lily's shoulders, their varying heights making it easy for him to guide her movements. Occasionally, he would bend down closer to her ear and whisper soft commands such as 'left at this suit of armor' or 'watch out for that trick step.'
"I hope you know where you're going, Potter. I don't really fancy getting lost in this place in the dead of night." Lily warned, beginning to wonder if James actually knew where the kitchens were located.
She'd never heard of a student ever discovering the location of Hogwarts' kitchens, let alone being in them. Then again, it would seem to make sense, seeing as how the four of them were constantly knee deep in food, while at the same time, being well-known for having a scant amount of pocket-change. She could recall the countless times they had entered the bustling Gryffindor common room after a Quidditch victory, loaded with practically every party snack one could possibly dream of having.
Odd, she thought. I never even thought twice about where they'd gotten it all.
A soft whoosh of cloth broke her train of thought. She looked around, immediately noticing that James had tucked away the Invisibility cloak deep within his robes.
"M'dear Evans, we have arrived." He announced, gesturing to the large portrait of a fruit bowl. "The comforts of house-elf service and vast selection of delectable morsels is at the tip of your fingers."
She looked to where he was gesturing, blinked, and looked back at him.
"Is this some kind of twisted joke? It's a portrait, Potter. Not actual food." She pointed out, clearly suffering from lack of sustenance and unable to think.
"Oh ye of little faith. It's all at the tip of your fingers." He advised mysteriously, grabbing her hand and holding it up to the portrait, while she eyed him curiously. "Tickle the pear and perhaps you won't think I'm so loony."
Lily shrugged. What did she have to lose? No one was watching, except James of course. But he didn't count.
With a slight wiggle of her finger, the pear began to giggle and the portrait creaked open, revealing a lighted passageway into the hidden and often sought after, but never found (or so she thought) kitchens of Hogwarts.