4 Little Words

Disclaimer: HP is not mine and will not ever be mine. I also do not own the snippets of poetry from Robert Browning, Elizabeth Barrett Browning or Sir Walter Scott.

Chapter 2—Poetry 101

Remus' words attracted Sirius.

"What?" Sirius peeked over the couch and stared at James. "Sonnets?"

"Yes Sirius." Remus said impatiently. "It's a form of poetry."

"Poetry?" Sirius gaped. "Are you shitting me? I didn't know you liked poetry!"

"I don't." James said defensively.

"Then why the hell are there billions of books on poetry near you?" Sirius shuddered. "That's more books than I have seen in my entire life time!"

"Not true. There's the library."

"Yeah, but I never went inside the library."

Remus shook his head and looked at James. "Why exactly do you have poetry on your desk?"

"And why isn't it dirty poetry?" Sirius asked.

"Does everything that comes out of your mouth have to include porn?"

"Naw." Sirius shook his head violently, like a dog shaking water out of its fur.

James said nothing but scribbled worthless words on his parchment.

Bad move.

Remus, spying the movement, looked down.

"Prongs, what is that?"

James tried to cover the parchment, but it was too late. Remus had snatched it.

"Your eyes are like green fields of grass," Remus read, "Your hair like a ring of fire—what the hell is this shit?"

"It's my poem."

"Your po—who are you giving this too?"

Remus' eyes wandered to the top of the paper where in all capital letters it spelt: ODE TO LILY.

"You expected to give this to Lily Evans?" Remus gasped. "What were you thinking?"

Now Sirius was interested. He jumped over the couch and seized the parchment in one fluid movement.

As he read the two lines, he burst into hysterical laughter. "Who wrote this shit?"

"I did." James said defensively.

Sirius, if possible, laughed even harder. "This sucks!"

"It's the best I could come up with!"

"Prongs," Sirius said, wiping the tears from his eyes, "I'm guessing you never took Poetry 101."

"And you did?"

"Yes," Sirius puffed his chest out, "I did."

"He means classical poetry you idiot," Remus said sharply. "Not limericks."

Sirius deflated. "Never mind then."

Remus turned his attention back to James. "Why are you writing this poem to Lily?"

James ignored Remus' question and took a deep breath.

"Pride goeth without fall." He muttered. (A/N: I heard that saying somewhere but I'm not sure if I got it right)

"Okay, okay." James said. "So the poetry sucked. Yes I know."

"Then why did you write it in the first place?"

"He was probably drunk." Sirius said.

"I need your help." James said, choking the words out.

"You're actually asking us to help you?" Remus sounded surprised.

"Aww, shut up. I need an idea on how to propose to Lily that doesn't involve whipped cream—Sirius."

Sirius put a hand over his heart. "Did you honestly think I was going to say that?"

James and Remus nodded.

"I hate you two." Sirius muttered, going back to his movie. "And whipped cream is an excellent way to propose." He called.

"If you're trying to propose to a hooker," Remus said in annoyance, "But if you're proposing to an educated girl like Lily—well, then—you'll have to think of something else."

"So poetry isn't good?"

"You were actually using your head when you thought of poetry. I think it's a good idea."

Sirius coughed.

"However, I don't know much about poetry." Remus confessed.

James' heart sunk. "What?"

"You don't?" Sirius looked surprised.

Remus shook his head. "Nope, sorry."

James groaned. Now what was he supposed to do?

"But I do have an idea," Remus said.

James looked up. "Tell me."

Remus walked over towards the fireplace and threw a handful of powder into the fire.

"Theresa!" He called. "Can you please come over for a moment?"

With a rush of flames and a roar of fire, Theresa Hudgens whirled out of the fire.

"Whoops." Remus whispered.

'Whoops' was right.

The only thing Theresa was wearing was a white towel around her body and a towel around her head.

"You guys caught me at a really bad time!" Theresa seethed, tightening the towel around her body tightly. "I just got out of the shower!"

"Sorry." Remus said.

But Theresa was not to be cooled.

"What if I had been in the shower?" She yelled. "And I arrived here naked? Huh? What would you do?"

"Probably stare at you." Sirius suggested.

Theresa turned to say something but odd sounds stopped her.

"What the hell is that?" Theresa gasped, staring at the TV. "Is that porn?" She sounded disgusted.

"You got a problem with that?" Sirius challenged.

"We're not here to argue," Remus said, eyeing the pair warily.

"Then why am I here?"

"James needs your help with some poetry."

"Poetry?"

"Yes, poetry."

"Whoa there," Theresa held her hands up, "I don't know any limericks."

"Wait a second," James turned in his seat, obviously surprised. "You know poetry?"

"Yes," Theresa looked defensive.

"But—you're a Quidditch addict!" James protested.

"That doesn't mean I can't like poetry."

"Prove it!" Sirius said.

"O what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive." Theresa quoted.

"Is that by Sir Walter Scott?" Remus asked. "That verse is in the poem Marmion."

Theresa nodded.

Sirius' mouth was agape.

"Shut your mouth Sirius, you're catching flies." Theresa smirked.

"Since when do you like poetry?" The black haired boy asked in shock.

"Since I was eight."

"Well, I didn't know that!"

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me." Theresa flashed a wicked grin.

James, however, was scribbling everything down as fast as he could. "You got anymore?"

"Uh, yeah. O to be in England/Now that April's here! That's by Robert Browning."

James shook his head. "That won't work either."

"What kind of poetry are you writing anyway?" Theresa asked, stepping closer to James.

James tried to hide the parchment but she was too quick. Her Quidditch skills matched his in speed and agility.

"Ode to Lily?" Theresa looked confused. "What the—"

"I'm trying to write a poem to Lily." James explained.

"Obviously—but why?"

Sirius cut James off. "He wants to propose to Lily."

Theresa clapped her hands and squealed. "Really? Oh, my god that is so amazing! That is—wait a second. You are proposing to Lily—through a poem. What were you on?"

James glowered. "Alcohol." He muttered.

Remus shook his head in exasperation while Sirius grinned. "Atta boy Prongsie!"

"Don't write a poem about proposing!" Theresa exclaimed.

"What should I write it about then Professor?" James was quite annoyed now. He hated it when other people told him what to do and Theresa was no exception.

"What you need to write it on is about how much you love her!"

"Do you have a specific poem in mind?" James asked sourly.

"How about," Theresa scanned the titles. "This one."

James looked at the title.

"Sonnets from the Portuguese?" James looked confused. "Uh no offense Theresa, I don't think that will help you."

"NO!" Theresa smacked James on the head with the book.

"Ouch woman!"

"Look at the author!" Theresa said angrily.

Rubbing his head and muttering, James looked at the author:

Elizabeth Barrett Browning. (A/N: as you guys can plainly see, I love this poet)

"Her again? What can she help me with?"

Theresa bashed James on the head again. "Men." She muttered as she flipped open the book to a certain page.

She slammed the book down and pointed to the page. "Use this poem as an idea."

James looked down and read the title of the poem.

"How do I love thee?" James read doubtfully as Sirius started to laugh.

"What is so funny?" Theresa demanded.

"The word thee!" Sirius clutched his sides and fell to the ground. "S-sounds like pee!"

"You'll have to excuse Sirius," Remus said sarcastically, giving Sirius a kick in the side, "He hasn't had his medication today."

Theresa gave Sirius an odd look and turned towards James. "This is a very romantic poem and very beautiful—if you appreciate the arts." She sniffed.

James glowered.

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I must get home."

"Leaving so s-soon?" Sirius asked.

"Yes, I am. I do not want to be around perverted men while I am only wearing a thin towel. Good day."

Theresa Apparated with a crack.

"That woman can seriously kill your head." James said, feeling the lump on his head resulting from that painful collision.

"Maybe it will teach you to use your head." Remus suggested.

"At least I now have some ideas on how to write the stupid poem."

"Don't copy it word for word!" Remus said.

James scowled. "I give up then. I'm taking a break."

As he threw his quill down, he stalked from the room.

"Hey Prongs," Sirius said suddenly, "Did you buy a ring for Lily too?"

There was a slight pause and a crack.

"I'm guessing that was a no."

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