chapter three
James Potter stays true on his promise to do something stupid, and blows up all the toilets in the Slytherin dorms.
In the early hours of the morning, as all of the Slytherins were getting ready for their first block of classes, there was a loud bang, and then the next thing anyone knew, their whole common room was flooded with this viscous liquid, pink and glittery and thick. It was, of course, a rather massive feat that he and his friends had pulled off, and Jo would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed. But what is really irritating her, is that most of Slytherin seems to be taking their frustrations out on her.
On the afternoon of the Great Toilet Incident, after all the flooding was drained, but before they could scrub all the stubborn glitter off, Jo was on the receiving end of slippery jinx from some sniveling fourth year, causing her to fall flat on her arse, Charms notes flying in the air, scattering all over the corridor. She tried to stand on her own three times before she gave up, resigning to sit flat on the floor. The next day, her pumpkin soup exploded right in her face, spilling all over her robes and leaving a slight burn on her face that she refused to see Madam Pomfrey for. Jo completely lost it, though, at the sticky, dripping, dark green goo that dropped on her head, completely soaking in the mystery substance, and it smelled vile, like the wet of a swamp. It would be, Jo thinks, far more productive of the lot of them to reserve these sort of antics for James. Apparently, though, her brother is just too untouchable. So they settle for her.
Of course, her brother vowed vengeance on every Slytherin that took a shot at her, but that didn't stop her arse from bruising or the swamp stench from sticking in her hair.
All in all, it's a really shit week for Jo. There's the non-stop badgering, of course, but Jo thinks her classes might be worse. Ancient Runes is giving her a non-stop headache, Dorcas nearly knocked her unconscious in Defense, and a sapling Venomous Tentacula was just unable to resist biting her cheek in Herbology.
By the time that she settles down for her block of Double Potions, her last class of the week, she has absolutely had it.
Slughorn claps his hands together, and Jo is slumped pathetically against her desk in the back of the classroom, studying the mustache that sits on the top of his lip. She wonders if he has to clean it, if food gets stuck in it. "Right then, let's start things out with a bang, shall we? We'll be brewing some Polyjuice Potion," he explains, and proceeds despite the collective groan that comes from the class, the loudest coming from Dorcas. "I've taken the liberty of stewing your lacewing flies and picking the fluxweed, in the interest of saving time. Now, this is still a disastrously tricky and tedious one, so I figure I'll be pairing you up, to make it a little bit easier." Dorcas shoots Jo a panicked look, only met with a smug smirk. Jo had been carrying Dorcas on her back for the past five years, through subtle note passing and whispers. "Now, let's see here, alright. Ms. Fortescue, why don't you go over there with Ms. Rakepick. Mulciber, go over and join Ms. Vanity. Ms. Meadows, you'll be with Ms. Talkalot. And Mr. Black, you'll be with Potter. Cattermole, why don't you go over there with Prewett? No, the other Prewett."
Jo groans again. Of course.
Regulus sits up in the front, surrounded by his Slytherin gang, and he doesn't even turn around to face his new partner. Begrudgingly, Jo piles her books together while staring at the back of his head, studying the way the curls touch on the back of his neck, shoulders straight and posture perfect.
There's a hot tickle of air on her ear that makes her jump, "Good luck with that one," Dorcas says into her ear, raising an eyebrow and flashes a look over to the younger Black boy. Jo gives nothing in response but a slight roll of her eyes, and she leaves to join him.
Jo greets him by dropping her books next to him and sharply instructing, "Go and gather up the ingredients. You prep them, I'll work on brewing."
There's a beat of silence, and Jo works quickly to set up her cauldron, busywork for her hands so she won't have to look at him. Still, she can feel his gaze, all too aware of the way he stands still, fixated on her movements. "Do you think I'm incapable of brewing a potion?" he questions after a moment, and Jo finds his tone unreadable, carefully even.
"Frankly, I don't have an opinion on whether or not you can do something, I just know for a fact that I can, and I'd rather not risk the grade," she counters, trying to put off indifference, but annoyance is set in her jaw. "So please, work on powdering the lacewings."
And he does so, without another sound, steps away from their workspace and gathers up ingredients while Jo reviews the instructions and she almost doesn't notice when he comes back, pushing her the Fluxweed and Knotgrass.
They work in silence, in tandem. The damp, stagnant air of the dungeons makes Jo uncomfortable, shifting her weight between her heels, while Regulus stands next to her, steady and focused. Jo stirs and tends to the potion and the second she needs an ingredient, he's pushing it in her direction with the edge of his hand.
Regulus is grinding the bicorn horn in the mortar when he glances at her and says, "You alright, Potter?"
The question catches her off guard, makes her flinch. She swallows, waving her wand over the cauldron. "Haven't had the best week, since you're asking."
"Lucky the pumpkin soup didn't do any permanent damage."
Jo hesitates, eyes fixed on the what's in front of her as she does her best to avoid looking in his direction. She doesn't know what to say to him, doesn't even know why he's speaking to her in the first place. "Yeah, lucky," she eventually settles on, shaking her head.
She takes a step back from the potion, lets it rest. It is thick and brown and bubbly and there's this tar smell to it that makes her almost sick to her stomach. Jo inhales deeply, through her nose, willing the hour away, desperate to be tucked away in her room, snuggled up to Dorcas and avoiding the rest of the world.
With her arms crossed over her chest, Jo tilts her head to one side, and then the other, hearing the bones crack, one by one, and she lets herself look at Regulus, just for a moment. To study the freckles, faint and scattered, on the side of his face, his nose, sharp and angular, the curls that fall in his eyes. And he's so composed.
"You're staring again," Regulus quips, without looking back at her, and Jo is quick to shake her head, averting her attention elsewhere.
"Am I?"
"Hmm."
Jo is unbearably aware of his presence, of where he is in relation to her, what movements he's making, and she makes a list of everything she knows about him. She knows he's Sirius's brother, she knows he runs with the blood purists, and she knows there's something lurking in him. Jo figures she's just nosy, a little too much for her own good, but she decides she'd really like to know more.
No one can accuse James Potter of favoritism when Jo makes Keeper, not after watching her fly through the air, working that broom like it's an artform, not letting a single Quaffle get past her. Not when Jo went after it with ferocity in her eyes, looking like she was more afraid of letting a Quaffle past than falling to the ground. Jo had plans, beforehand, to absolutely botch it, give the slot to someone who wants it a whole lot more than her. But, when she gets up there, defending the goal posts, she really can't help herself.
She used to adore the sport, really, when she was younger. James had laid out this plan for the both of them to be on the team for as long as possible, he started his third year and Jo was meant to do the same. James would be Captain for his last two years, and Jo would pick up where he left off. And there was something that just changed for her, when it no longer became something she would do with her brother in the backyard during the summer, but something so serious and consuming. Jo was always a little bit too competitive, and Quiddtich brought out the worst of that.
But here she is, decked in Quidditch robes once again, walking back to the castle covered in dirt and sweat, about to be swept up in it again.
"Oh, Josephine!"
Jo barely has time to turn around before there's a bouncing blonde throwing her arms around her shoulders. She stumbles back a little, catching Marlene McKinnon in her arms. "I could kiss you!" Marlene yells into her ear, and pulls back, looking up at the younger girl in front of her. "When James said you were going out, I didn't believe him but Merlin, you were beautiful out there!" she gushes, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her heels.
"Thanks, McKinnon," Jo says, giving her the same crooked grin she always wears. "And he and Sirius did have to bribe me."
As Jo takes another step towards the castle, Marlene throws an arm over her shoulder and matches her pace. "Should've let me know. I would've gone in on it."
And as Jo laughs, she notices that Marlene is not alone, because of course not, she never is. There's always that redhead with her, and she peeks her head around Marlene's shoulder and gives Jo a wide smile. "Hello, Josie."
If there's one person in this castle Jo Potter can't stand the sight of, it's Lily Evans.
Perhaps she could look past the holier-than-thou attitude, the profuse ass-kissing of all her professors, and the hypocritical nature of her lengthy, albeit completely over, friendship with Death Eater Junior, Severus Snape. But Jo could not stand the way Lily Evans talked to her brother.
Because when Lily screamed at James for dangling Snape upside down by his ankles, she didn't realize he did it because Jo went to him raging over the fact that Snape, ever the blood purist, had called Hestia something unsavory, to say the least. And when Lily blew her top at James for making Bertram Aubrey's head grow twice as big as it normally was, she didn't realize that Aubrey had been plotting to pour a love potion in Jo's tea. James always looked out for his little sister, looked out for her friends, made them all feel safe, protected. And Lily never appreciated that, understood that, or even bothered to know that. No, Lily Evans was always far too eager to call James a git, an arse, foul, rude, anything but what he was: a decent big brother. And James, true to his nature, would laugh off her chastising and insults, brush it off like it was nothing, and keep pestering the girl. But Jo has known James her whole life, and she's noticed the way his eyes dim, the way his smile falters, whenever Lily talks down to him like that.
If James wasn't going to hate her for the way that she yelled at him, called him names, snitched on him, then Jo certainly would.
And it sets Jo's teeth on edge that she's taken to calling her Josie. Her family can do that, no one else.
"Evans," she greets, curt and harsh and Jo notices the way Lily's large green eyes widen, how her smile falls and it makes her harden. She pushes Marlene's arm off her shoulder and steps forward. "See you later, McKinnon," she says with a tight smile, and rushes off ahead of them.
Jo is staring at Regulus Black again, and Remus Lupin is staring at her, staring at him.
"Jo," he says, and Jo flinches, blinking rapidly as his face comes into focus. "Are you paying attention?" he asks, a crooked smirk playing on his lips.
Jo takes a couple of moments, and swallows thickly. The library is full, like most Monday evenings, large groups of students bond together to study before they start to burn out at the end of the week. And Jo needs at least an 'E' in Defense if she ever plans on becoming a Healer, so she plans on camping out here as much as she can, whenever she can corner Remus. "Whatever the question was, I'll say the answer is nonverbal spells."
Remus eyes her suspiciously, "Depends, which spell are you casting nonverbally?"
"Firestorm?" Jo guesses, going with her gut, with the very first spell she can think of.
He frowns, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his chair. "Lucky guess," he grumbles.
A bright smile grows across her lips. "Maybe I'm just brilliant. What was the question?"
"Best way to defend against Inferi."
"Oh," she says, looking down at the messy notes scribbled in front of her, "I didn't know that."
"You're ridiculous," Remus comments, and then leans forward, close to Jo and whispers, "Is there a reason you're staring at Regulus Black?"
Jo bites down at the end of her quil, looking back and forth between Remus and the boy in question, just over his shoulder. He, of course, is sitting upright, book in front of him, completely indifferent to his surroundings. "Can you keep a secret?" Jo asks.
It's a stupid question to ask of Remus, and she already knows the answer before he says it. "You know I can."
"I caught him crying in the corridor, first week back," she rushes out, feeling all too eager to tell him. It's easy to tell Remus things, it's easy to talk to him. There's something about him, his big brown eyes or his big stupid sweaters or the hushed, gentle voice he uses to speak, that's just so comfortable.
Remus doesn't seem as excited at the notion of it as Jo was, not nearly as interested. He just gives her a quick, odd look, and says. "Really?"
She nods. "It was strange. He was almost by the Greenhouse."
"Huh."
"Well, that's all you have to say?" she questions, gripping the edge of the table. "'Huh ?'"
"I dunno," Remus offers with an easy shrug, "not that strange. The whole family's miserable, I'd be crying too."
"I'd be crying going back to them, not leaving," Jo counters quickly, sparing a quick glance back at Regulus. He hasn't even moved an inch.
Remus sighs. "You want my advice with this one, Jo? Stay out of it. Noble House of Black is full of absolute nutters. Including Sirius."
"Hmm. You'd know, wouldn't you?"
There's a tinge of pink that spreads across Remus's freckled cheeks, one that makes Jo smirks. "Shut it," he grumbles, and slams his textbook shut. "Let's go, Sirius just got the new Bowie record, and if he listens to it without me, I'll kill him."
Jo rolls her eyes but stands nonetheless, carelessly shoving her belongings into her bag. And before she leaves, she casts one last look over to where Regulus sits, and is surprised to see that he is staring back at her, with cold, grey eyes.
thank you all for reading, and thank you for the reviews! sorry it's starting a little slow, for some reason i always struggling with starting up stories, im just way too eager to get to the meat of it. oh, and btw, the title of this fic is a subtle taylor swift reference.
