A/N: My first author's note on this story! Aaaaaahhhh! Hey guys, sorry I was gone so long! I'm sure EVERYONE says this, but life has been super hectic. In the time I was gone I applied to and got accepted to college so there's that. It was only part of the reason I was gone though. But enough of that: let's get into the story!
Guinevere's heart pounds in her chest.
She shouldn't be here. No matter who she is seen by, there will be consequences. She isn't even sure she wants to witness whatever is going down. However, she can't seem to tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her. A morbid curiosity keeps her firmly glued to her spot.
The potions classroom is far from deserted. Along with the two boys who just entered, there are five or so people standing in a semi-circle, all of them leaning forward on their heels. They're all illuminated by the light of a few torches one of them must have stolen. Guinevere feels as if she's intruding on a tense moment. They all seem coiled like snakes, ready to strike at any moment.
The boy who Guinevere previously recognized as Sirius's little brother stands in the center of the semi-circle, looking ready to jump out of skin. She can just barely see his silhouette illuminated by torchlight. He trembles almost imperceptibly and clings to his wand for dear life.
"Are you sure you can handle this, Black?" asks a condescending voice from outside the circle. Guinevere recognizes the limp, greasy hair and hook nose. Her lips curl downwards in a frown.
Snape.
"O-Of course I can," the younger Black stutters out. "You forget yourself, Severus. I'm the heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You need not question my where my loyalties lie."
"It isn't your loyalties he's questioning," another much deeper voice pipes up. "It's your stomach, boy."
Light snickers spread throughout the circle. Guinevere can see the dimly lit form of the Black boy tense. Whether it's in anger or humiliation, she doesn't know. If he's anything like his older brother, it's most likely the former.
"I assure you my stomach is strong enough to handle whatever comes my way," he snaps, though his tone lacks any real malice. "Now let's just get on with it."
Another mutter comes from the circle, but it's too low for Guinevere to hear. Frowning, she leans in closer to the doorframe. She knows she's risking discovery, but she feels compelled to listen in on the conversation. Their words seems to have some heavy implications. Eavesdropping feels like the right thing to do in this situation. It's just her duty as a responsible Hogwarts student to make sure no dark magic is occurring after hours, right?
A loud meow proceeds a furry body rubbing against her legs. She jumps back further against the stone wall in surprise, banging the back of her head against it in the process. The pain slithers up from the back of her head to the front, coiling around her forehead in the form of a searing headache. She has to slap a hand over her mouth to prevent any gasps of pain from escaping her lips.
"What was that?" a sharp voice asks from inside the classroom.
Guinevere looks down at her feet, and just as she guessed, Stevie Wonder is pressed up against her cloak. He's looking up at her with those big green eyes that seem to silently communicate very human-like thoughts.
'Where were you?' Guinevere can imagine him thinking. 'I haven't seen you all day. I was worried.'
"It's just a cat," one of the occupants in the room insists.
"But where there's a cat, its owner is bound to close behind," another voice chimes in.
Guinevere doesn't have to be told twice. She kneels down, scoops Stevie Wonder up in her arms, and starts power-walking towards the stairs. She moves with a kind of grace she wasn't even aware she had, all to keep the sound of her footfalls from echoing throughout the empty halls. Quietly, she curses herself for being so stupid and invasive in the first place. She should just stick to the policy she always followed in muggle schools; if you see anything even vaguely out of place, walk briskly in the other direction.
Albeit, that was usually because she was the cause of it, but it's still a good policy to follow.
"Well if you're so concerned, then you check it out yourself."
The deep voice bounces off the walls behind her. Heavy footsteps echo, slowly growing louder. Guinevere can just barely hear it over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She knows the boys she saw in the potions room are not the merciful types.
Stevie Wonder meows loudly in his owner's arms, rubbing his head against her chest. Though Guinevere usually revels in the finnicky cat's affections, now is most certainly not the time.
"I heard it again!" the voice shouts this time. Guinevere can hear the footsteps gaining in pace and volume, coming closer to her. She briefly wonders if they can hear her rapid heartbeat as she rushes up the main stairs.
Stevie Wonder begins to grow restless in his owner's arms and attempts to wiggle his way out. Guinevere curses under her breath and readjusts the fussing cat. She briefly wonders why she hasn't abandoned the cat yet to save her own skin. It's a testament to her love for the horrid thing that she won't leave him to the wolves like he would do to her.
The footsteps are growing closer and closer, until she's sure they're right behind her.
"There!" the voice shouts again, louder this time. "There they are!"
Feet begin pounding up the stairs, and Guinevere knows she must think fast. The staircase leading to the Gryffindor common room is still swinging around, Stevie Wonder is clawing at her arms, and she's a few steps away from getting hexed out of her wits. All that comes to mind is her mother's voice, telling her to be brave.
Without a second thought, she drops Stevie Wonder and lunges for the moving stairs.
Her knee connects with a hard stone step and scrapes upward, sending a sharp pain shooting up her leg. She hisses as she stands up on shaky feet. She can wallow in pain later while she soaks in a very, very, very long bubble bath.
The stairs are still moving while Guinevere climbs them two at a time. She doesn't dare to turn back, but she can hear a faint curse coming from behind her. She has a feeling that the boys who were trailing her aren't about to risk their skins by jumping after her. Slytherins are far too smart. Not for the first time, Guinevere thanks Merlin and the sorting hat and all other wizarding paraphernalia that she was sorted into Gryffindor, the house of the reckless.
Guinevere rushes up the Fat Lady, who's snoring loudly.
"Felix culpa!" Guinevere breathes out. "Felix culpa, felix culpa, felix culpa!"
The Fat Lady awakes mid snore and looks down at Guinevere in annoyance.
"Alright, alright, don't get your knickers in a twist," she grumbles. The painting swings open, much to Guinevere's relief, and she climbs in. The only thing on her mind is jumping in bed and sleeping through breakfast the next morning.
She stumbles into the Gryffindor common room, stripping off her boots and tossing them in the general direction of the couch. They make a hard-thudding sound that most definitely does not sound like it's coming from the soft fabric cushions.
"Ow."
A lump with red hair that shines in the firelight sits up on the couch. Guinevere lets out a sigh. She can't decide whether to be relieved or annoyed.
"Lily, what are you doing up?"
Her best friend rubs her head where the shoe hit her.
"Waiting up for you," she retorts in mild annoyance. "I was worried when you didn't show up for dinner."
Her red-haired friend's arms are folded across her chest and her spine is rigid against the couch. By the light of the fire bouncing off her face, Guinevere can tell she's angry, yet concerned. For a brief moment, she could swear that she's staring back at her own mother. It's the type of energy that Lily always gives off; the fierce protector.
"Why didn't you try to find me then?" Guinevere asks. She's not upset at Lily in the least. In fact, she's happy that she didn't try to find her. On the rare occasions when she's in tears, she prefers to be left alone.
Lily's mask of annoyance slowly melts, giving way to a worried expression.
"James told me what happened," she replies.
Guinevere groans and collapses into the chair across from her. All the embarrassment and shame from earlier that day comes flooding back. She wants to sink into the couch and away from her best friend's sympathetic eyes.
Lily sighs and drops her rigid posture.
"I didn't go looking for you because I know how you are when you're upset," she admits. "I figured you would want to be left alone. I told the girls that you were just feeling poorly and were probably vomiting your guts out in the washroom."
Guinevere snorts, feeling a smile tug at her lips. Lily seems to brighten up herself in response.
"I also left some sugar quills under your pillow."
Guinevere's ghost of a smile turns into a full-blown grin.
"Thanks, Lily," she replies, barely above a whisper. Not for the first time, she marvels at what a beautiful human being Lily Evans is, both inside and out.
Lily blushes, her cheeks turning as red as her hair.
"Don't mention it. Just go get some sleep."
Guinevere gets up out of the plush chair with some minor difficulty. She had all but forgotten about the nasty scrape on her knee from where it connected with the hard stone stairs. Her knees threaten to buckle from the sudden pressure on her legs, but she forces herself upright. She doesn't want Lily to worry any more than she already has tonight.
"Aren't you coming to bed?" Guinevere asks, forcing the pain out of her voice.
Lily shakes her head.
"I've got rounds soon. James did them this morning."
Guinevere bites back a remark about how she saw the two of them snogging in a corridor the last time James did the early rounds, but she quickly decides that's a discussion for another time. She just smiles instead.
"G'night, Lils," she murmurs before stalking away towards the dorms, making a conscious effort not to limp.
She's practically salivating at the thought of her warm bed with its fluffed pillows and silky sheets that put her to sleep better than any pill ever could. With some luck, her mates won't notice her return. She may even be able to wake up early enough to take a bath and wash away the congealed blood on her knee before anyone takes notice. A quick spell should be able to fix her torn stockings with little problem.
She has nearly reached the last step when she feels a tug on the back of her robes. She languidly turns on her heels, assuming that Lily just forgot to tell her something before she left.
James Potter stands behind her, the tip of his wand illuminating his face.
"James? What do you want?"
She cringes at how unintentionally harsh her words sound. She doesn't mean to offend. She's just exhausted and she doesn't want to talk about what happened on the Quidditch pitch earlier that day, because she's almost sure that's what James is here for.
James turns red in embarrassment and gives her an apologetic shrug.
"Sorry to bother you so late, but I just got finished making a run to the kitchen – they let you do anything when you've got the Head Boy badge on your robes, you know – and when I got back to the common room, Lily was about ready to leave for her rounds and she told me you were just getting back yourself and you –,"
"James," Guinevere interrupts. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'm really tired, so I would like if you could get to the point sometime soon."
He just takes it in stride, chuckling lightly. She supposes he's heard worse from Lily.
"I know decisions aren't technically supposed to be made until this Monday, but I wanted to let you know that you made the team."
Her jaw drops.
After her mess of a try out and her altercation with Sirius on the field, she still somehow made the team.
"J-James…" she sputters out. "How…? What…?"
He chuckles again. In the dim light his wand casts on his face, Guinevere can see the old James Potter she met 6 years ago. That same impish grin stretches across his face and the same devious twinkle glints in his eyes. He looks like a 1st year again.
"You're way too hard on yourself, you know that, Driscoll?" he asks rhetorically. "You played brilliantly. Just because you lost the quaffle once doesn't mean you aren't one of the best chasers in Gryffindor house. Even I, a true Quidditch legend, have had my fair share of mishaps over the years."
She snorts and punches him in the shoulder.
"Deflate that head of yours before practice on Monday, Potter."
He chuckles and takes a small step back.
"So I'll be seeing you then?" he asks, though she can tell he knows the answer. She'd have to be absolutely barking mad to reject his offer.
"Bright and early, captain," she responds, following it with a mock salute. "I'm just so glad I got on the team at all that I'd sleep overnight on the pitch if you asked me to."
His face softens as he gives her a small smile. Gone is the devious glint in his eyes and the impish grin on his face. Suddenly, Guinevere can see the 7th year James; the kind, mature James that Lily is starting to fall for.
"Goodnight, Guin," he murmurs fondly. "I'll see you on the pitch."
He gives her one more nod of the head before turning his back to her and walking off in the direction of the boy's dormitory.
As soon as she can tell he's out of earshot, Guinevere slaps her hand over her mouth to stop a squeal of joy from escaping. Her lips ache from smiling so hard. Or maybe from the slap. She can't really tell, nor does she care. All she cares about is the fact that she's going to be the Gryffindor team chaser. What started as one of the worst nights of her life has turned into one of the best. The incidents with Sirius and the Slytherin boys are now somewhere in the back of her mind, if not just gone completely.
With a sigh of contentment, she finally enters her room.
After just a few steps towards her bed, she feels the small, furry body of Stevie Wonder weave between her legs. He looks up at her with his big green eyes glowing in the darkness and lets out the most pitiful meow she's ever heard. She can hear the message loud and clear: 'You left me out there.'
She rolls her eyes and detangles herself from the annoying creature, launching herself into bed.
Maybe she should just give the damn cat to Remus.