Author's Note: I'm writing more. Anyone would think I'm enjoying this or something.
It's Saturday today. For most, that's a day by the lake. Usually, for me, it's a day in my books, but today, I'm lacking the motivation. I feel in a helping-people mood. Remus says I have a 'saving-people-thing'. He asked me if I'd save James from himself, but I said I wouldn't know how. And Remus just gave me that look, you know, the one that should really be sending a girl of his choice into transports of delight at the cuteness of it all. Poor Remus. I feel so sorry for him. For reasons that are far too secret to even write down in here, no matter how well protected I think my diary is.
Did I just call this my diary? I guess I did. How odd.
Even odder, was the dream I had last night. It was one of those that makes no sense at all when you've woken up, but at the time seems perfectly sensible. I was at a wedding, which started off as someone elses but then kind of became mine, but I don't know who I was marrying. Then next thing I know I'm at a house, and fetching a blanket from the airing cupboard so that my baby won't be cold. And then... then, the dream goes all third-person on me, and I become an observer, watching some people running across a field at dawn to the top of a hill. I don't know who they were.
And then I woke up. I had a strange sense of loss too, as if I'd almost touched on something very important but it slipped away as I got close to it.
Not that dreams ever really mean anything. Two years of Divination has taught me that, without a doubt. No wonder I dropped the stupid subject at NEWT level, even if I did get some half-decent results in the exam. Honestly, how anyone can possibly see a future in the left-overs of someone's cup of tea, or in the lines on their hands, is well beyond me.
I might join the throng today and go sit by the lake. Or I might see if any first years need a hand with their homework.
I like helping the first years. They ask easy questions, and they're not savvy enough with life at Hogwarts yet to know too much about James Potter. Which means less questions about him, which is good for my nervous disposition.
- - - - - - - - - - -
No first years in the common room this morning. Maybe they're all sleeping.
So, I've headed to the great outdoors. The weather is turning all grey and miserable, and I wouldn't be surprised if it rained. Though, that might suit me actually. I've been perfecting an umbrella charm, based on muggle umbrellas, so that I can walk through the rain and use both my hands at the same time, without getting wet. If I do say so myself, I think it's one of my better ideas so far this term.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
As I predicted, the rain has come. So now, I'm sitting on a wall, on a small towel I conjured for the purpose, being nicely dry under my umbrella charm. Lucky for me, it works like a dream.
It's nice to watch people running around in the rain. Not because I have a sadistic desire to see them get wet; just that when you're running out of the rain you're not looking at other people. So I miss their eyelines, and they run past me. And I get some peace and quiet to indulge in my new favourite occupation: writing.
I'm really getting into this. It's so calming.
I've just had an idea for a charm actually... I wonder if I could charm my quill to write what I'm thinking? That would cut down on time, certainly, because I wouldn't have to wait for my slow hands to catch up with my brain.
It's worth a thought.
- - - - - - - - - - -
Testing.
Testing.
Oooh! Yes. Yes, it's working.
Wow, it's weird to see my words forming on the page whilst I'm thinking them. The pen moves so super-fast, really it does. Flying across the page, before I've even had a chance to think what I've just thought. Um, or something like that. Oh, this is the problem, isn't it, now that I'm got it to write what I'm thinking I won't be able to go back and correct mistakes or errant thoughts about boys or-
Ahem! Scratch that. Mentally. Or- um, you know what I mean.
Oh! Look. It's the three musketeers. I wonder where Peter has gotten to. They all look rather drowned, believe it or not. I guess it's the weather. There they go, into the front of Hogwarts... Now, why am I so bothered that they are gone and didn't notice me? Anyone would think I cared or something.
OK, clearing my mind of all outside influences and errant thoughts. Thinking zen. Thinking calm. Thinking- James!
"James! You startled me!" He looks amused, dammit. And wet through. I'll just smirk a bit.
"Yes, Evans, that happens when you're lost in a daydream. What you dreaming about? Yours Truly?"
Oh my, the man is such a walking ego. Honestly.
"Don't flatter yourself." Gosh, I'm full of the lines today, aren't I?
"What're you writing?" Ooops, I cannot have James Potter showing too much interest in this little book, especially when it's got written proof that I find him adorable in it. Oh tell me he hasn't seen me thinking that. I am so hiding this book in my bag and hoping I don't squash the quill that's still writing as I'm doing it.
"Never you mind, Nosey."
Great, I love awkward silences.
"Dammit Evans, how are you so flippin' dry? It's a right torrent out here and I swear you're not even damp." So, I allowed myself a little glow at the words of praise that I'm sure were in there somewhere. Sometimes you've got to give the benefit of the doubt.
"Umbrella charm. I got the idea from a muggle invention"
"Some of us don't have the luxury of a muggle upbringing, Evans."
Again with the awkward silence.
"Don't suppose you feel like sharing?"
Oh my. Now I feel really stupid, and more than slightly selfish.
"Oh! God, yes. Sorry. I don't know what... World of my own, I guess." I flick my wand, I extend the umbrella. Damn that boy for having such a cute face when he looks relieved.
"My wiley charms putting you off your game?" I just wish he didn't have to spoil it all by looking so smug.
"Hmph." That's just not even worth a remark.
More silence, though somehow not so awkward. Now he's joining me on the wall.
"What are you doing out here anyway, James?" Is it me or does he look vaguely sheepish?
"Oh, just strolling." Hmm, yeah, whatever.
More of that silence. When did we get civil? This is confusing. In fact, it's beyond confusing. It's-
"Anyway, Evans, I'll be off. Places to go, people to see. First years to impress. You know how it is. Or, maybe you don't. Hmm. Ciao, anyway."
And just like that he's gone. I kind of want to get my book from my bag but at the same time I can't stop watching him leave. That glad that he's leaving, obviously. Maybe.
If he wasn't such a git, a woman could easily find herself falling for James Potter, with his warm presence and his comforting voice.
Good job he's still a git then really.