Once again, I own nothing you recognize. :) To those who have bore with this story up to this point, I must thank you, and commend you all on your tolerance, and kindness.
"So for the purpose of easing tensions, the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was created by leaders from all over-"
'I beg of you stop,' James longed to cry out in agony, his eyes looking bloodshot as he rubbed them viciously for what seemed to be the hundredth time within the infernal hour.
Beside him, Sirius stirred softly in his sleep, his lower lip stained ink-blue, the "notes" he had bothered to take down earlier impressed on the hollow of his right cheek backwards so that minutes later, James was rather amused to make out the words "Snivelly must die," and "Sirius is a sexpot," roughly with the aid of his two-way mirror.
At the front of the room, Remus noted their lack of interest waspishly out of the corner of his eye, a crease appearing between his eyebrows as he turned back to his desk with a scowl, and reached into his book bag for yet another fresh sheet of parchment.
"Yes, Miss Edwards?"
"Evans, Professor... about the appointment I explained earlier-" Lily prompted, raising herself from her seat.
With a great deal of restraint, James forced himself to focus on the horizontal tile pattern of the floor, afraid that if he even looked at Lily for longer than a second, Remus would reprimand him with a wagging finger, and educate him, yet again, on the finer points of waiting, and giving one one's necessary space.
"Very well, Miss Everett, you may go," wheezed Binns sourly as Lily finished giving Douglas a small kiss on the cheek.
'Where is she going? Another disciplinary assignment?' James wondered, no longer caring if Remus caught him eyeing the back of Lily's head like a mooncalf. James could recall a number of occasions in the past where he had been asked to leave class in order to play mediator to two disputing first-years.
At the realization, James bitterly pushed his textbook away.
'Wish Lily would have taken me,' he frowned, kicking at his desk.
"Mwuh?" Sirius mumbled from his left, waking with a crazed twitch in his right eye, lifting his face from his notes as though in a panic, and James could see, with a smothered grin, that Sirius had ended up marking his other cheek as well.
"Lovely dream?" James asked,
"The usual," Sirius answered, shaking his head as though sand was trapped in his ears, "Sheep. Eating sheep—where'd Evans go?"
"Another errand, apparently," James couldn't keep the bitterness from pitching his voice into a low bass, and Sirius chose wisely not to press the matter further.
"The persecution of Muggles of course had it's roots very early on—yes, Allan?" Professor Binns snapped at Douglas's raised hand,
"Professor… I was just wondering if I could perhaps go to the lavatory for a moment,"
Binns looked none too pleased at this request, but could not find a sensible enough reason to refuse.
"If you must, Avery. I shall expect you back in two minutes."
Sirius suddenly snorted, to James's surprise.
"What it is it?"
"Doubt that he'll be back in two minutes, if you know my meaning,"
James shot him a puzzled look, and Sirius leaned in, his tone hushed, and feverish with conspiracy.
"Don't you think it's a bit strange that after Evans left, dear, ol' Adams suddenly has a hankering to go to the toilet?"
James's jaw plummeted a few inches.
"You don't think-"
"Same stunt I pull all the time!"
The stunt in question had been age-old, standard, executed, at least once, by virtually every Hogwarts student alive—person 'A' excuses themselves from the classroom with some vague reason or other, whilst Person 'B,' after an ascertained period of time, inquires if he or she can go to the "lavatory"—which was really Hogwarts-speak for some old, empty broom closet, or vacant corridor where the two would meet, and snog eachother senseless before returning back to class.
"Merlin…" James murmured, looking perfectly as though a bludger had just hit him square in the face, "Lucky bastard..."
Sirius stared at James thoughtfully for a moment, drumming his long fingers quietly on the table as though something rather interesting had occurred to him.
James easily recognized this look, and he felt strangely uneasy that it was directed at him with so much intensity.
"Prongs,"
"Yes?"
"Want to know if Evans really does snog Adams with her shirt open?"
James nearly choked on his own spit.
"You're mad!"
Sirius sat back, laughing, apparently amused by his outrage,
"Of course I am! Else we wouldn't be running around as animals every bloomin' month!"
James shook his head fiercely,
"We can't... besides, with Adams gone, you can't possibly think Binns will allow another person out of the-"
Exactly where Binns would not allow another person out of, James never got to say, for in the next instant, Sirius had leapt at him as though possessed, and had punched him hard on the nose.
James recoiled, howling profanities, blood dripping onto his robes as he raised his head around at Sirius, and attempted to strangle the smirking git with his own tie, "ARE YOU BLOODY MENTAL-"
"Professor Binns!" Sirius wailed, seizing James unexpectedly by the front of his robes as though with the intention of kissing him, "Professor Binns! James is hurt!"
The half of the class that had been close to collapsing in their seats out of boredom had spun around instantly from their desks in mid-daydream to regard Sirius and James with great, combined looks of anticipation and gratitude.
Remus, twitching as though from a nasty fleabite, was staring fixedly at the soles of his shoes, while beside him a bleary-eyed Peter was slowly mouthing the words, "Sirius is a sex…"
"Mister Brown calm yourself!" erupted Binns, blanching a paler-than-usual white, "Explain the situation!"
"It's Potter sir... he gets nosebleeds when he's too excited!"
A number of students clutched their stomachs to keep from bursting into laughter.
"Excited?" Binns sputtered as though he had misheard Sirius,
"Yes, Professor! Not his fault really, poor sod. No, James," Sirius cried, pulling James into a hug that felt insanely more like a death grip.
"Shh! Shh! It's alright, mate! Nothing to be ashamed about! I know... I know, muggle and wizard relations is a fascinating subject! And the way our professor went on about it..." Sirius actually affected a blush, "I could understand why you were excited."
A tiny bubble of blood expanded, and exploded at the corner of James's lower lip, and, trembling slightly, he wiped at the spot with his free sleeve, less out of any real need to tidy himself, but more to keep himself from outright hollering, and joining the rest of his lunatic classmates.
"Professor, I have to take him to the hospital wing straight away!" pleaded Sirius finally,
"Very well, very well, Mister Blake!" Binns nodded briskly, as though had he not a class to discipline, he would have gladly accompanied "poor," "excitable" James to the hospital wing himself.
Resisting the urge to bound for joy, James made a great show of groaning on Sirius's shoulder, while to Sirius's left, Peter sat enviously, appearing to contemplate Lupin's nose.
When they had distanced themselves safely from the classroom, Sirius released his grip on James's side, and did not restrain himself,
"Am I brilliant? Or am I brilliant?? Go on Prongs, say it! Is Padfoot brilliant, or is Padfoot brill-"
"Well, a warning would have been nice,"
"A warning!? And what would you have said, I wonder?" Sirius spat in disbelief, "Cheers, Padfoot, have a lovely go at my nose? Speaking of which,"
Sirius promptly fished his wand out of his robe pocket.
"Episkey!"
James's nose, which had alarmingly adopted the size and color of tomatoes, had shrunk, and paled to its original appearance.
James gave it a prod.
"Thanks,"
"So, reckon I'm forgiven?"
James smiled.
"As long as I'm the one punching your face in next time,"
Sirius seemed to be intent on spoiling him.
"Fine, Prongs. Shall we start with the broom closet on the third floor?"
James hesitated.
"Padfoot... what if... well, what if Evans catches us? I mean, I've already made a right mess of things-"
"She won't catch us," Sirius insisted firmly, pocketing his wand with a fierce air of accomplishment as though he had gotten away with this several times before, "Besides, she'll be a bit too pre-occupied, don't you think?" he added, nudging James with an overly enthused smile.
James thought he was going to be sick.
Repressing a sigh, James dutifully quickened his pace as he followed Sirius up three flights of magical staircases. Once they had reached the third floor, Sirius beckoned him to walk a little faster, "Ready?"
"To potentially spy on two people having it off? You joking? ... I was born to do this," James replied weakly, not entirely sure whether he should projectile-vomit, or tempt Sirius into a tittering high-five of mannish glee.
"Good man. I'll stay some five feet behind you, just in case Filch and Norris are around,"
James nodded to this, as though he and Sirius were engaged in some delicate, covert operation, and with a hearty thumbs-up, he quickly rounded the corner, wand held aloft.
Already, James could make out faint noises coming from inside the broom closet, which, to his open-mouthed horror, shook a little more violently as he came closer, dust dancing off the hinges.
Ignoring what sounded disturbingly to James like Adams's moan, James kneeled carefully before the closet, and attempted to steal a glance of its inhabitants through the tiny slit of space between the shut doors.
As though having been stupefied, James fell backwards on the floor, forgetting how to breathe.
Sirius had been right. Douglas had pulled the stunt.
Except Person A was not Lily Evans.
I wish everyone a 'Happy Reading' on the twenty-first. :)