Heads up to James Blunt; he entertains me for long enough to churn these out. It's ridiculously hot music. One day I'll post a chapter and pretend to make James (Potter, not Blunt. OMG live concert ff! James musical genius (at least in my mind). Hm. No, never) listen to really cool music just so I can print a list of everything I want the world to enjoy.
Or I'll just write like a normal person.
Hats off to J.K.
--
Chapter Three: The Plan
--
Days went by, and no sign of Lily. She was in all my classes, she ran our meetings, she hung around the common room at odd hours (it's so hard to stalk her. Seriously. The girl has no schedule). Nothing.
No 'hi', no 'I hate your guts Potter', no 'thanks for the snog'. I tried lead-ins, Remus gave up his patrolling sessions with her so I could figure out just why I needed to be apologizing. De nada. By November I was starting to get desperate.
The Marauders, noble compatriots in all my woes, had stepped nobly to the plate. Specifically, they hauled me down to the kitchens to drown my sorrows in cake, and filled me in on all their hot plans with their girlfriends. It was sickening.
But then – ah, then. I almost wish they hadn't come up with The Plan. It was a sort of revision on my own, unsuccessful Plan – not for want of trying; if I couldn't even approach her without getting a hex in the back (how does she have so many friends to do her bidding? She's a bitch in hell), how was I supposed to carry it out? But their Plan included additions to get her attention in the first place. It was a pretty decent thought, actually. What followed it was a complete accident. Not to mention really, really gross.
It all began on a rainy Sunday afternoon, when we the Marauders, along with our many admirers, were sprawled here and there about the common room. Everyone was chatting happily away, enjoying a brief lull in our schoolwork. Padfoot, of course, was bored witless.
"Prongs," he moaned, for about the millionth time.
"What," I said, not looking up from my Italian text.
"I'm bored, Prongs."
I said, "Vaffanculo." I had made some great additions to the mandatory phrases, notably fuck you, or if you wanted to be literal about it go and take it in your ass. Of course this was wasted on someone as ignorant as he is.
"Why don't we go to the kitchens," he said.
"I'm learning."
"You don't learn."
"Don't be stupid, Padfoot, how do you think I got to be Head Boy?"
"Bad luck," he said, scoffing at the idea that I might be a good student. Which is of course true; I'm a very studious boy, and I do all sorts of clever things.
"It's just because Lupin doesn't attend enough classes to be any use to them at all," Padfoot went on. He paused to think about that for a while. "Not that you do."
"Thanks."
"It's my pleasure. Let's go to the kitchens."
"I'm learning."
"You don't lea–"
"Padfoot," I said.
"What?"
"We've been through this eight. Times. I don't care whether you think I'm hiding a Playwitch in this textbook, I'm going to keep looking at it until the hour is out."
The nearest cuckoo clock started braying and popping in and out. I shut my book. "The hour is out. What did you want to do again?"
"Kitchens! Hurrah!"
"Gather up the boys." I gathered them up. "Cloak me," I said, holding out my arms. They gaped at me.
"Valets don't come with this school, Prongs," Padfoot said, "it isn't in the package."
"Get it yourself," Pete said. I glared.
"We'll risk it, then, I'm not going upstairs."
"It's one o'clock in the morning," Remus said.
"Yeah, well, we'll say we were on duty."
"What about us?" Padfoot exclaimed, gesturing to Pete.
"Get the Cloak yourself," I said. Padfoot bounded out the Portrait Hole.
"Kitchens! Hurrah!" he shouted.
"Treacle!"
"Fudge!"
"Cake!"
"Shut up, they're going to hear us!"
We got to the pear without being caught, oddly enough, and tickled it. The house elves frolicked about until we had enthused enough over them. Then they left us alone and the guys leaned forward, forming a sort of huddle. I was nervous.
"Um," I said.
They went on to tell me about their hot girlfriends. This isn't something I want to discuss. We'll jump right back in from where I get involved again, shall we?
"We have a Plan," Remus said, his teeth winking scarily in the bright lights. I covered my face with a hand.
"Oh God."
"No no no," Padfoot said, "not that kind of plan. It's not, like, immoral or anything."
"At least we don't think so," Remus said.
"And Moony made all those references he's so good at, so we don't have to worry," Peter smirked.
"It involves your Pretty Lady," Padfoot said. I suppose that was supposed to induce clarity.
"Courtney?" I said.
"Who?"
"Never mind. It's not Elizabeth, is it? Because there isn't any point, we're –"
"Lily," Padfoot said. "It's Lily, Prongs. The girl who precedes all others. With the hair? You snogged her last week, she likes muffins? The one you never stop talking about."
"What about her?" I asked suspiciously.
"We have a Plan," Peter said. "It's really good."
"Remember how you were thinking you might pin her to the wall with your hand up her skirt?"
"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds like it'll work so well."
"Has it so far?" Remus asked. A fair point, not that I was going to admit to it.
"It did last time!"
"Uh-huh," Padfoot said, studying his fingernails. "For the mo, we're calling that the 'element of surprise'. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept."
"Which did work, as you noted."
"So we thought we might, you know, try that sort of thing again –"
"But with a bit of a twist. Ideally you'll end up with your hand up her skirt –"
"Okay," I said, not wanting to know how they'd come to that conclusion. "What is it?"
"First we're going to get her attention. That should be easy enough."
I didn't trust them. The last time I let them do something like this I ended up at the bottom of the lake with weights attached to my feet.
"Then you play up how dreadful you are at Italian."
"It shouldn't be too hard," said Remus.
What a pillock.
"If she doesn't agree to tutor you –"
"She will," Padfoot said. "Trust me, you don't want us to have to revert to Plan B."
I really didn't trust them.
"Okay, so she's agreed to tutor you. Once you're meeting in the library –"
"You should probably apologize first. That way she won't think you're just in it for the snogging," Remus said, cutting Peter off.
"You didn't ask her about this, did you?" That would be just like him.
"Anyway, you can handle it from there," Padfoot said. "The main thing is getting her attention."
I eyed him. "And how did you intend to do that?"
"First," Padfoot said, spreading our map on the table and tapping his wand with it, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
"Aye aye," Remus and Peter said, lifting their hands. I didn't budge.
"I don't know whether I –"
"At seven fifty-nine," Padfoot said, ignoring me.
"That's one minute before classes," Remus said. "We know you've never been up that early but you're going to have to make an exception."
"You can always stay up all night, but I wouldn't advise it," said Padfoot. "You'll need to keep your strength up. Phase One will begin outside the Potions classroom. Everyone will run around screaming, Lily will leap into action from the floor above –" He pointed to the Italian classroom, where I guess we'd be the next morning. "The Heads will herd the wee Slytherin first-years back to their dorms for safe-keeping, and then you'll have to walk back up. Alone," he said, as if I wouldn't get it. I brightened up at the thought.
"We don't think you'll be able to pull it off in two corridors, though, so Phase Two will begin when you get here on your way down," Peter said, pointing to the bottom of the stairs. "This one's a bit harder to control, but we think the class'll have cleared out entirely by the time you get back, and it'll be safe to walk on. Padfoot'll cover that and then get his sorry arse out of there."
"Please don't stay and watch," Remus said, "it'd be kind of perverted."
"Are you kidding?"
"No, Padfoot, they're not," I said. "Maybe someone else should do it."
"I meant are you kidding, why would I want to watch my best friend roll around with some girl," Padfoot said, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, what do you think I am?"
No one said anything. He hastily jabbed at the map. "Anyway. Um, Phase Three will keep them out of that hall until at least half past, so you have until then to work your magic. Don't try anything too kinky, all right? We know she doesn't respond well to that."
"Yes," said Peter, "we really, really do. And in case you're wondering why we went to all this trouble, it's to make you bloody shut up about her. So do us a favour when it works, all right?"
"Also it'll be gobs of fun. Let's move, boys, Prongs doesn't have much time to pack in his beauty sleep."
"Beddy boops," Remus said, patting my hair helpfully and grinning. As soon as their precious plan failed, and they got out of detention, I was going to kill them.
--
A/N: will the Plan work? What will happen if they have to revert to Plan B? (I, for one, don't want to find out.) What's the really, really gross result? Read to find out!
Unfortunately for you I'm going to BC for a couple of weeks, so I'll post if I have the chance but otherwise I'll write up a storm and throw you a whole stack when I get back. Meanwhile, have a v Harry couple of days.
Interesting side note here: 'piss off' actually doesn't translate into Italian. They'd say something (according to my Italian friends, who, alack, are not ff-y. I had to be v sneaky to get it out of them without them thinking I was a complete moron for trying to rewrite/borrow/butcher the marvy HP)… let me try that sentence again, my parenthesis was too long. They'd say something like 'take a shit' or something, which I guess is the same idea. But I liked this one better. Quite edgy, my dears!