Hello to all of the four people reading this! Hope you're all having a lovely day, because this is the only thing keeping me going!
And ofc, this was a fun chapter to write and all that jazz. I actually have some interesting elements from the original planned out, so be ready for that sort of thing too.
Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie
"No, James."
"But please."
"No," repeated Remus steadily. "Last time you asked me to ask her whether or not she liked boys with glasses, and I have never looked stupider."
"You would never look stupid around Evans, Moony," said James earnestly. "Would he, Padfoot?"
"Hm?" said Sirius, barely focussing. "I agree with whatever I'm supposed to agree with."
James looked intently at Sirius. "What are you reading?"
"That book about being in love," sniggered Peter.
"What?" asked James.
"He means Pride and Prejudice," said Remus long-sufferingly.
"That book you got by accident?" asked James. "Hasn't it been a week since you got it? Why are you still reading it?"
"Re-reading it," Peter said.
"Re-reading it?" repeated James, horrified.
"It's a good book," mumbled Sirius.
"Are you feeling alright, mate?"
Sirius turned away, slipping off the sofa. "Leave me alone."
He picked up his bag moodily and tried not to look at James' shock as he clambered out of the portrait hole.
He didn't know what to say to his friends. If anything, it was telling, of how little he was found reading usually. Anyway, he really did not want to have the book taken from him. He felt somewhat responsible for the girl who's handwriting was in the margins, the one who had said so many things to him.
As he walked down the corridor aimlessly, he looked outside one of the windows. He was feeling restless and… wordy. He felt like he had been packed with all of this girl's thoughts, this girl who he did not know. He had pored over the book and finished it an age back, and he had been surprised to find that he was happy with the ending. He was pleased with how the events unfolded, and he had wanted the hero to confess his love. What he had thought was too impassioned a declaration of love suddenly did not matter as much as the ending, as much as the happiness that had come to both the characters.
He sighed. Then he was momentarily shocked – he never sighed over books.
He would walk to the large bridge that headed to the Forest. It was a pretty sort of evening – the sun was setting, and he felt oddly like he was having... well, whatever it was, it seemed bigger than his body. The air felt cool and slightly yellow.
He reached the bridge, looking out into the golden hour. The sun was indiscriminate: it painted everything yellow.
The castle seemed unreal for a moment. Wide, beautiful, tall against the sunlight.
Sirius was forced to admit: he had studied her words. He had picked apart the shape of her letters, felt the thoughts she was having. As he read her writing more carefully, he was beginning to make out which thoughts had come early in her reading of the text. Which thoughts had happened on the second or third reading, and which thoughts had happened after she had thought about the book without reading it for a while.
He had to find this person. First of all, this book was important to her – second of all, she was driving him mad, and that was only with one week of spending time with one of her books. Not even with her. He didn't go mad over girls, that was James' thing.
He gripped the book. It was time to go to Evans.
"You're going to Evans? My Evans? The Evans?"
"James, she's a prefect in our own house, not a unicorn," said Remus patiently.
"Be quiet, Moony. For the first time, he's being interesting."
"It is driving me mad that I don't know who this girl is," said Sirius. "We're just going to find out who it is, drop the book of, and never speak of it again."
"Why never speak of it again?" Remus prodded.
"Because," said Sirius.
James raised his eyebrows. "Because?"
"Because!"
"Because?" Peter questioned timidly.
"Oh for fuck's sake," swore Sirius. "Because I've spent way too much time with this book and I'd like to never have to think about another love story again."
"You're in love," smirked James.
"I will shove my shoe so far up –"
"Alright!" Remus exclaimed. "Let's go."
Sirius was glowering, but luckily the other three boys were in as good a mood as ever. They left the dormitory to find Lily Evans sitting with McKinnon and Macdonald near the fire place. As soon as she saw James, she looked wary. "What?" she asked, when James advanced towards her.
He put his hands up. "Not me who wants anything, Lily," he said earnestly. "You see, my good friend Pad – Sirius –"
"What do you want, Black?" sighed Lily.
"Attitude, Evans," said Sirius with a grin. "What if I want to ask you out?"
"Your good friend will have a heart attack," said Lily. Even as she said it, James' face had become so pale, he was nearly a ghost.
"Fair point," said Sirius. He crouched behind the sofa, hunting through his bag for the book in question.
Remus sat next to the fire with Peter. James stood awkwardly, hesitated, and then found Lily looking at him questioningly. He half-smiled at her. She sighed and shook her head. Taking this as an invitation, he sat down on the only seat free next to her.
Marlene watched Remus and Peter. "You boys done with your essay for Care of Magical Creatures?"
Remus nodded instantly, but Peter looked despondent.
Sirius finally handed Lily the book. He put his hands under his chin, on the backrest of the sofa and watched her as she examined the cover.
"Didn't really take you for an Austen guy, Black."
"I'm not," he snapped. "I want to know whose book this is."
Lily's eyes were laughing. She looked at James, and he was caught off-guard for a moment. Then he smiled back.
"Shut up, Evans," said Sirius.
"Didn't say anything!"
"Just tell me who might own this. I think it's important to her."
"Ooh, you've already assumed it's a girl, have you?" asked Marlene with relish.
"No boy would be reading this," said Sirius firmly.
"Ho, ho, ho," said Mary.
Lily rolled her eyes. "And how would you know, Black?"
"What?" asked Sirius. "It's romantic, this Mr Darcy is obviously every girl's wet dr-"
Lily sat up. "You read it!"
"What? No!" he said instantly.
"He read it thrice, actually," said Peter, leaning back.
Lily was laughing openly now. "You read it. And you loved it."
"I did not."
"Tell me you didn't have strong feelings for when Elizabeth shows up in Pemberley," said Marlene.
Sirius glared. "Fine. Fine. I really liked that part. Will you please tell me whose book this is?"
Lily flipped through some of the pages.
"Well, I don't recognise the handwriting, and I don't know anyone who makes such detailed notes. It seems familiar, though."
"Let me see," said Marlene. She grabbed the book and traced the handwriting. "Does seem familiar," she murmured.
"Can't place it, though," said Lily. "It says Sarah on top."
"Already asked Forester and Freegood. They don't own it," said Sirius. He got up from his crouching position and sat on the carpet near the coffee table.
"Put up a sign," Mary suggested.
"Every girl will claim it if she could," said Sirius, running his hands through his hair.
Again Lily rolled her eyes. "You are frustrating. Live with the book then, see if I care."
Sirius stared out of the window.
"Evans, he's been really weird since he got the book. If you could find the girl, we would be so grateful," said James, doing his best impression of a dog who was demanding a bone. This tactic did not work on either Marlene or Mary – but surprisingly, it did work on Lily. She sighed. "Fine," she said. "I'll ask around, discreetly."
"You're the best!" said James, springing to his feet. "Come on, everyone. Let's leave these ladies alone."
"You know, you should read it," Lily said, turning back to her friends.
"What?" asked James.
"Pride and Prejudice. It's a good book," she said.
James looked at Marlene and Mary. Mary nodded vigorously, while Marlene shrugged. "It's a good book," she said.
James, still fifteen in how he responded to Lily talking to him in any capacity, grinned excitedly. "Maybe I will."
The boys got up and disappeared upstairs. Sirius was still contemplating the reader in question – why did no one know whom this mystery person was? It seemed to kept all of herself between the pages of her books. Not even books that she had written! She folded her identity into these neat little quarters and hid it away, in words that weren't even always her own. Was there no space for her?
He had full plans to find out who she was tomorrow, and he knew Lily was the best substitute to hunt for this anonymous person. This ghost person. God, he really hoped she wasn't actually a ghost.
His plans got a little derailed, because when he woke up in the morning, the Pride and Prejudice was missing. Instead, sitting there, as innocent as a book possibly could be, was Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie.
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