The Stellar Scrutiny of a very Spiffing Sirius Black

A/N: Before you begin this chapter, Sirius would like a few words.

S/N: Allow me to first logically explain Mrs. Potter's nick-name. Mi, quite clearly derives
from the word Misses, p from Potter, and anyone with sense could see the obvious resemblance to poppy flower, which relates uncannily to the 1800's battlefield deaths, where Madame Guerin took on and created funds for the homeless children. Ah, therefore... Mippy.

V/N: Wow... Handsome and smart.

Sirius

I wonder how long it takes for a sickly protuberance on one's head to dwindle to a reasonable and distinguished lump?

At first I was angry with James, as he had sent an undeserved diabolical wallop upon my humble head, but looking back, the situation may have been a tiny bit provoked.

What can I say? I was excited for my best mate, that's all. Honestly, you'd of thought he would've rejoiced, too. Finding your true love is a very big deal.

Well maybe it was because his prize, his dearest, his tootsie, was the very girl he had sworn an oath to hating forever and ever, in this world and the next, until eternity proved certain and he floated away to heaven where there would certainly be no sign of her. And this was a very big oath, too. When it involves spitting, prancing, whistling, and a tablespoon of baby powder, you know it's quite the big deal. But hey, it's not my fault his numero uno turned out to be none other than the fiery Lily Evans.

I don't see the problem. The feistier the better, really.

Angry lump on my head or not, it was well worth it to see James's face when I informed him of this intriguing information. And it's true, too. Witch's Weekly never lies.

James is in denial, I think. He's a big stubborn lump of denial, moping on his bed and pouting like a right old toddler. It's okay, though. Every boy reaches a peak of the rebellious phase, and the best thing to do is to just let it abate gradually and naturally. See, and my ignorant comrades make a big old bother about my occasional read-through of Witch's Weekly. Good thing my cultured self is here to brilliantly guide them through life's troubles and bumpy roads.

It was fate, really, coming about that article. I was looking for a good foot exfoliation cream, for Mippy's birthday, of course, but the picture of throbbing polka dots and riveting stripes had amused me.

Moon to sun, black to white, moo to oink; sound familiar? 'Well, no,' I had responded to the text. After quickly twisting around to make sure no one had heard me talking to Mippy's magazine, I read further.

"I'd rather share a carriage with a hinkypuff... You are a pretentious git that should be locked in chambers far, far away, or at least where I can't see you... I could care less if you were suited in an ensemble of thick metal and thrown into a cage of hungry nifflers..." If you, or your counterpart, recalls uttering these masked words of endearment, then you are surely on the road to true love, my friend.

I acknowledged these words as strangely familiar, but couldn't quite put my finger on where I had previously heard them. And so I read on:

While these deceivingly harsh words are, to the average eye, a sign of a spurning loathe, in depth studies and a series of shrouded tests prove that these along with long strings of
curses, stomping upon toes, and twisting of ears, are mere signs of a hidden desideratum.

After looking up the word 'desideratum', I began to think. Masked words of endearment... twisting of ears... Suspicious thoughts formed in my mind, but suddenly the blissful scent of roast beef wafted through the door, distracting and forfeiting any hopes of an intellectual breakthrough. Two portions of beef and three flaky rolls later, I was back in my room, delving further into the fascinating article. All I really needed was several crucial clues...

Shockingly, our researches have come to the unfathomable conclusion that these besotted foes will often share contrasting characteristics. For instance, the male (for easier reading we shall refer to him as Mames) may have tangled, midnight black locks, while his corresponding desire (we shall refer to her as Quilly) could have, say, striking red.

"What're you doing?" James's voice caught me off-guard. I quickly stuffed a pillow over the magazine and turned towards him.

"Nothing," I responded coolly. "What are you doing?"

James frowned at me suspiciously, before shaking his head and stepping over to his wardrobe. He pulled an old robe out and began to replace the new one he was currently wearing. "Mum's going all mumish again. She just declared she's going to give me a haircut."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," James glanced into the mirror, criticizing his reflection. "She says she has to at least attempt to control my tangled, midnight black locks."

"Oh." I looked up and grinned. "Well good luck with that!"

James grumbled a sarcastic thanks before leaving the room. Finally. I thought I'd never get back to my article.

Mames and Quilly compete at everything. Right down to the latest Charms Exam-

"Oy, mate, wanna hand me my book?" James disgruntled head poked through the door. "I figure I might as well get something done while mum's messing with this." He pointed to a rather humorous mop of chopped up hair.

"Uh-huh," I absently reached towards his trunk. "Which one?"

"Ah, Charms I guess."

I tossed him the book, and as soon as he left went back to the article. These interruptions are killing me.

Mames is often found places Quilly is not, and vice versa. For instance Mames could be on the quidditch field, in detention, or pulling an all-nighter as he roams mysterious places, while Quilly, always the studious one, is found in the library, studying or working hard on some sort of a task or obligation. Mames could be quite the jokester, while Quilly is serious and indubitably logical. Mames could possibly enjoy medical genres whereas Quilly prefers photography and one dimensional arts-

Wait a minute! Medical genres? James just bought a package of broomstick animated band-aids! And, and photography... Lily, yes Lily Evans asked Minnie just two months ago if the enchanted film particles correlate with the increments in muggle cinematography!

And that is how I came to the logical deduction that James is madly in love with Lily.

Or will be, at least. It's destiny after all.

-----

"Umph," James grunted at me. Morning grogginess always has him speaking troll.

I poked him. "Your mum told me to wake you up."

"Ugh phum gregh mumph," James retorted.

"Yeah, that's what I said too," I replied knowingly. "But she wants to go early to beat the crowds in Diagon Alley."

"Grumph?"

I thought for a moment. "Eggs and bacon, I think." James went still again, and his eyes began to droop in a surefire sign he was headed back to sleep. "C'mon you prat," I smacked his head. "I'll bet your beloved red-head will be there..."

"Preghmumf."

I crossed my arms, highly affronted. "That was very inappropriate."

I finally dragged him out of bed and to the breakfast table, where there was sadly no eggs and bacon but rather carrot muffins instead.

Carrot muffins are disgusting. If you have the chance to escape them, do so immediately.

Conversation was slow this morning, what with James being gruntish and Mr. Potter working, and me trying my best to swallow the food without gagging.

"Need anything particular today, dear?" Mippy asked from behind her magazine. I hope she doesn't notice the articles I cut out.

Assuming she was addressing me (James's head was pillowed upon a half-bitten muffin) I responded, "Can't think of a thing, Mippy. Could you pass me the sugar?"

She smiled at me from above her magazine and slid the sugar across the table. "How are the muffins? I thought up the recipe myself."

"Great," I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Oh, no. When sugar doesn't help, you know you're in trouble.

"Oh, good," Mippy replied happily. She set down her magazine and took a muffin from the basket, to try one herself. She took a great old chomp, and I watched sadly as Mippy's face contracted and her nose wrinkled in disgust. After elegantly spitting it out right back into her coffee, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin and looked up at me. "Well I think we ought to stick to blueberry, how about you?"

"Good thinking," I responded, gladly shoving my plate away. Reaching across the table, I lifted James's head up and slid the plate out from under, letting it drop back down with a thump.

"Hey," James complained, rubbing his head gingerly. Good, the drop must've knocked
the Troll out of him.

"Go on and get dressed now," Mippy hurried James out of his chair and shooed him
towards the stair-case. "We've got a lot of shopping to do today."

"Shopping?" James and I whined simultaneously.

"Yes, shopping," Mippy mocked our belly aching, placing a hand on each of our shoulders and guiding us forward. "We have to get your school-books, of course, make a stop at Gladrags-"

"Gladrags?" James scrunched up his face. The expression really isn't becoming, mental note to let him know. "Why are we going to Gladrags? Our robes are fine."

Mippy crossed her arms. "Well sure, but I think your ankles might get a bit chilly in the wintertime."

James and I glanced down at our feet. "Huh," I mumbled thoughtfully, inspecting the vast space between my socks and robe bottom. "When did that happen?"

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"You're not what, dear?" Mippy asked absently, handing us each several books and stacks of fresh parchment.

"In love," I said quickly, dodging James as he lunged towards me. "He's in denial, Mippy. I think we oughta knock some sense into him."

Mippy's face went pink with excitement. "In love? Oh James, it seems like only yesterday-"

"I'm not in love!" James exclaimed from the dusty ground of Flourish and Blotts. He really needs to work on his lunging accuracy.

"Sure you are," I side-stepped in front of him to stand before his blissfully interrogating mother. "I've even got proof. You know that article was recommended by the top three-"

"I can't wait to tell your father-"

"Are you even listening to me?! I'm not-"

"Strutsburger is a highly acclaimed author-"

"What does she look like? Is she nice? Oh, I'll bet she's a doll-"

"That article's stupid, Strutshisface doesn't have a clue what he's-"

"There!" I brushed past James and pointed out the shop's large window. "It's her," I mock sighed dreamily and pointed Mippy in Lily's direction. "There's James's true and inevitable love."

"Oh," Mippy uttered, covering her mouth with a cupped hand of surprise. "She's just as I would've expected her to be."

"Mum," James cradled a weary head in his hands. "I'm not in love- not even platonic! It's simple, I despise her very existence and in turn she holds a spurning loath for me."

Spurning loath. I noted that distinctly in my mind- if I'm not mistaken it's an exact quote from the article.

"Well that's not very polite, dear," Mippy chided, her gaze still fixed on Lily. She reluctantly broke it away. "You two head off to Gladrags and let Madame Jemscins collect your measurements. I'm going to stop at Gringotts and I'll meet you back over there in a bit."

We started out of the book store. "You're such a git," James announced as we exited the ringing doorway. "Mum's never going to let me hear the end of it, you know that don't you?"

"'Course," I grinned. "That's what makes it so fun."

James grumbled some indecent words as we started down the busy street. I looked to my right to see if Lily was still by the store, but regrettably she had disappeared into the crowd.

"Well, it's all right," I sighed heavily, patting James hard on the back. "I understand, mate."

James turned to look at me. "Understand what?"

I rolled my eyes, verbalizing the obvious. "Why you won't admit your undying love for Lily."

Steam practically rolled out of James's ears. I sighed again. James was so easy to bother. "I do not-"

"Well aren't you wondering why?"

James closed his eyes briefly. "Fine, Sirius. Why won't I admit my undying love?" he asked tonelessly.

"Because," I responded brightly. "She'd never go with you."

James looked a bit taken aback by my reply. "Wouldn't go with me?" he laughed. "I could have her eating out of my hands within an hour, if I wanted to."

"Right," I scoffed.

"I could," James protested.

"Could not,"

"Could to," he persisted further.

I rolled my eyes. "Could not."

"Could to,"

"Could to," I said quickly.

"Could not,"

"Ha!" I exclaimed triumphantly. "See, even you're saying you couldn't."

"What- I," James nearly growled in frustration. "Well you know what I meant. I could get Evans any way, and day, any-"

"Fine," I gripped his shoulders and turned him in the other direction. "There she is, go work that Potter charm."

James's eyes searched the crowd, but then widened with understanding when they fell upon the unmistakable Lily Evans. He nodded and smirked slightly, before squaring his shoulders and striding forward. "Fine," he called over his shoulder. "You just wait and see."

I followed James, at a safe and reasonable distance, of course, until he finally came to a stop at the back of a chatting Lily.

"Did you still want to pick up those trinkets for your sister?" Lily was asking Julie Taylor, as she shifted large bags (filled with books, no doubt) from one arm to the other. "Because I was thinking-"

"Evans," James cut in smoothly, poking a toothily grinning head in-between Lily and Julie.

Lily scowled at the interruption. "What do you want?" she asked, looking less than pleased to see him.

"Well," James raised his elbow and rested it on her shoulder. He'd better be careful- I don't think she's above biting it off. "I've got a taste for ice cream and," he shook his head in what I'm guessing he thought to be a sexy manner. "I thought I'd let you join me."

This is the very first time I've ever witnessed Lily Evans speechless. Actually quite nice.

"What?" she asked stupidly.

James grinned and gestured to her, and then back to himself. "You, me, ice cream shop."

I worried about Lily's psychological state as she began to laugh in a scarily insane fashion. "I have to give you credit, Potter," she said, "for once one of your jokes is actually funny."

James shook his head. "Not a joke, Evans. Now I know this may seem like a dream-"

"Not a joke?" she interrupted, staring at him strangely. "But-"

"Yeah," James leaned back and gave me a fleeting glance of triumph. "So are you ready?"

Lily's eyes widened in what, to me, appeared as wondrous astonishment. "You mean, you- you're actually asking me out?"

"Yes. Hard to fathom, eh?"

Lily stared back unblinkingly at James; she looked him up and down in the rare seconds of silence, before bursting out into giggles and glancing over at Julie. "I can't believe it- I just, I-," she bit her lip and pushed her hair back self-consciously. "I don't know what to say..."

Oh, I'm good. Are my perceptional skills fantastic or what?

James flashed a showy grin, making a big motion of draping his arm over her shoulder. "Yes, I know. My incredible- ow! Did you- you just bit me!"

Uh-oh...

Lily spit over in James's direction. "Yes," she wiped her mouth. "And your arm germs are particularly disgusting." She roughly removed James's wounded limb from around her neck and shuddered. "Just like the rest of you, you pig. Did you actually think I... Oh you're so vain-,"

"You bit me!?"

"And stupid," she corrected, "you're vain and stupid."

James scowled indignantly. "I am not!" he exhaled angrily. "Now, are you coming to get ice cream or not?"

Lily stared back, her face expressionless. "I thought you said you weren't stupid."

A/N: One word.

Finally

But be forewarned, the Evans and Potter action has only just begun.

Muhahaha...

One more A/N: Thanks for all the incredible reviews! Grace's perspective next, one more (can you guess which?) and then the next real chapter, in which I'll respond to all of your reviews. : )