Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 3: And the Victor is…
The roaring of the crowds could be heard just as clearly from inside the changing room as well as being on the field. Hearing it excited James and made the blood rush to his head. His fingers twitched with anticipation as he gripped his broom tightly, and he danced from left leg to right leg as he waited behind his fellow teammates. The light snuck in between the cracks of the wooden door, and James tried to look out through them, his anticipation needing some kind of outlet. He saw nothing past the light, but the crowing of the crowd reached him just fine.
"Ready?" the Gryffindor team captain, William, asked. He was a chaser like James, and this year was the last year at Hogwarts for him. That made all the matches all the more important for William, and not one could be lost. He had worked James and the entire team hard through day and night. James grinned.
"Ready," he said alongside the others. The captain smiled and nodded. The look in his eyes sought victory, and James was certain that's exactly what they'd achieve. James had been practicing a lot on his own, too. There was no way they'd loose.
The captain pushed open the wooden doors just as the announcer called for the Gryffindor team, and one by one, they filed out onto the field, their heads held high and brooms held vertically by their side. James fancied the brooms like spears and they were soldiers marching onto battle. He could be so poetic when he wanted to be, and it amused him to think like this.
His team got into position, facing the Ravenclaw team, and James felt sorry for the other team. Loosing so horribly would be very humiliating for them, but that was just how it was going to be. He watched as Madam Hooch, a young woman with fierce, golden eyes, stepped between the opposing teams, her hand held high.
"Ready on my mark," she announced, her voice made louder by a spell. James tensed and waited for her signal. Her hand came down with a slash and just like that, all the players mounted their brooms and kicked off with such intensity that dirt was winded up in clouds. Higher and higher James flew until he was level with the two other Gryffindor chaser. The quaffle, along with the bludger and snitch, was released into the air, and James dove down to catch it. He outstretched his fingers and scooped the ball into his arms just as a Ravenclaw chaser came to do the same. Too bad for him, though. James was always one step ahead.
He zipped to the left, swirled around a Ravenclaw beater and passed the quaffle to Amelia, the third chaser of Gryffindor, just as two Ravenclaws enclosed in on him. The crowd cheered as James abruptly stopped and the two Ravenclaws, their reflexes too slow, collided into one another. Amelia, with no one following her, whirled the quaffle into the third hoop, the Ravenclaw keeper missing it by milliseconds. James whooped with the crowd.
He circled back to the center as the Ravenclaw keeper threw the quaffle to one of his teammates. She caught it and shot off towards the Gryffindor goals. James easily kept up with the player, William on the other side of her, and together the Gryffindor chaser waited for the Ravenclaw to make her move. She was panicking, James could tell, and she looked at him as the flew closer to the hoops. He smiled charmingly.
That's when she blundered. She made to throw behind her, sensing her teammate following close behind, but she misgauged the distance. The quaffle fell just short, but William fell back and retrieved it easily enough. James veered to the right and pulled upwards. A bludger came from behind the bleachers and missed James narrowly. The Ravenclaw girl, unfortunately, never saw it coming. It crashed into the tail of her broom and sent her spiraling out of control. James hesitated for just an moment, but she regained control just before hitting the ground.
James watched as William made to pass the quaffle on towards Amelia, but a Ravenclaw chaser intercepted it. James inwardly cursed and shot off towards the Ravenclaw. Just as James was overtaking him, the Ravenclaw released the quaffle and it was caught by the girl. Without delay, she whizzed it towards the Gryffindor goalpost. James held his breath as Thomas, their keeper, caught the quaffle by the tips of his fingers. James threw his hand up in the air and took possession of the quaffle as Thomas threw it over to him.
All the while, the announcer, a Hufflepuff whose voice was too timid over the clamoring of the crowds, followed the game with precise detail. The game was 36 to 4 in favor of Gryffindor. The snitch still hadn't been found which was fine for James. He could do this all day. He wanted to utterly annihilate his opponents, and thought he could earn a few more points for Gryffindor.
Currently, William was in possession of the quaffle and he threw it to James, and just as quickly as he had caught it, he sent it flying back to William. AS they sped forward, they exchanged the quaffle back and forth between them with such speed, they Ravenclaw chasers that flew around them had no hope of catching it. As they neared the hoops, the Ravenclaw keeper flew this way and that, trying to guard all his goalposts, but James and William had practiced this move far too many times.
William feigned a throw into the far left hoop and the keeper sped towards it. He realized too late that the quaffle had been given to James and had no time to get to the far right post as James hurled it through the unprotected hoop. Another point for Gryffindor!
Readying himself for another onslaught, the announcer shouted out that the Gryffindor seeker, Jourdan, had spotted the snitch. This was the last chance for James to score another point before Jourdan ended the game. Once he found the snitch, there was no way the golden ball was going to escape him.
James followed behind the Ravenclaw chaser who held the quaffle close to his body. A bludger was hit towards James and he had to stop to avoid it. The Ravenclaw looked behind his shoulder and smirked. James didn't know why he did. Ravenclaw was down by at least thirty points and Jourdan was on his merry way to assuring Gryffindor's victory, but the smirk irritated James nonetheless. Not wanting to be outdone by the Ravenclaw, he leaned in close to his broom and shot off with such speed, the resistance threatened to knock his glasses off.
In a second, James was right alongside the Ravenclaw. He blinked at James stupidly. James cut in front of the boy, forcing the chaser to stop dead in his tracks. Amelia, dove down from above and knocked the quaffle right out of the boy's arms. William, who had been circling below, caught it, and he threw it towards the Ravenclaw hoops just as Jourdan's hands clasped over the snitch. The quaffle soared threw without being caught, and Gryffindor earned another point just as Jourdan caught the snitch.
The crowd, minus the Ravenclaws and Slytherins, let out such a ferocious roar, James imagined his head was thrumming from it. He landed on the ground softly, feeling light headed. William was crying out at slapping each of his teammates across the back. James easily avoid the thunder of Williams slap by slipping off unnoticed. The crowds spilled off from the bleachers an unto the field (again, minus the Slytherins). He could spot her just as easily as he could spot the sun. It was natural for him, instinctual even, for him to seek her out, no matter how angry he was with her.
Lily ran towards Amelia, and they cheered together, clasping hands and laughing joyously. William came behind them and scooped Amelia into him in a tight hug. He watched as Lily went to Jourdan, congratulated Scott and Michael, watched as she turned this way and that, looking for him- for James. Finally, she spotted him, her eyes locking with his. Across the field, they acknowledged one another. She bowed her head and he responded in the like. She smiled, but that, James found he couldn't return it.
He turned on his heel and headed toward the changing room. William and the others wouldn't be back for awhile. This was their first victory of the year- their first of many, because they would win all of them. And the most important one was Gryffindor verses Slytherin. It would certainly be the most challenging; the Slytherin team was just as skilled as they were brutal, and Merlin were they brutal.
James smiled to himself as he slipped of his quidditch robes. The cheering of the crowds could still be heard, and James found he was strangely excited for the match against Slytherin, but that wouldn't be until the year was near over. Could he wait that long?
There came a rapping on the door, but Sirius didn't need an invite. James' best mate strolled on in, his eyes alight with mischief.
"Oh no," James sighed, struggling with his quidditch boots (why did he always laced them p so tightly?). "I know that look." Sirius' smile broadened, and he flopped down beside James.
"I haven't seen you since yesterday," Sirius said. James kept his eyes on his boots and he hooked his fingers under the laces to loosen them.
"That's what happened when a quidditch match comes up," James said.
"Yeah, but I haven't had the opportunity to tell you the news," Sirius said, reclining back into the wall. James peeked over at him.
"Hence why you're here," he said finally tugging the boot off.
"While you were busy with quidditch-" and Sirius made a sour face. James threw his boot at him, but Sirius deflected it easily.
"While I was busy with Quidditch…" James said for him.
"I was busy with Moore." He waggled his brows, and James stared at him stupidly for a moment waiting for more. When he understood, he leapt up, half dressed and with one boot on, and pointed at Sirius.
"You didn't!" he exclaimed. Sirius laughed and then leaned in, smirking arrogantly. "No, no, no—No you did not!" James shouted.
"Why do you doubt me?" Sirius asked, blithely throwing the snitch up in the air and catching it.
"Because… I can't believe she did—with you!" James said, running a hand through his still sweat drenched hair. "When did you-?" James trailed purposely. Sirius quirked an eyebrow. "Oh right, right. While I was busy with Quidditch." James opened and closed his mouth several times, not knowing how to formulate the question, and he was certain he looked like a gaping fish. "How?" he finally, and poignantly, phrased.
"James, I know you're inexperienced and all, but I thought you had the fundamentals down," Sirius said, shaking his head.
"No, you prat. How did you… woo her?" he asked, feeling his cheeks go red.
"Woo? What are we—from Dumbledore's time?" Sirius asked, chuckling.
"Do you even know what time that is?" James bit back.
"In the long ago time," Sirius laughed.
"Stop changing the subject." Sirius stopped laughing and reclined back, shrugging his shoulders.
"I knew she liked me," he said coolly.
"So you… went after her?" James asked. Sirius never committed in any of his little flings with the girls, but go after a girl just because she liked him, knowing she probably would… go that far even with him just didn't sit right with James.
"No… not exactly. To be honest, and this is going to sting at my pride so keep your smugness to yourself—I think she thinks it will… up her status," Sirius said, furrowing his brows. "I'm her ladder." James looked at him flatly then burst out laughing. "I told you to not do that," Sirius sighed.
"I'm sorry-" James wheezed, waving his hand dismissively.
"You're really not, but that's fine," Sirius said, watching without amusement.
"It's just… why be with her then? Knowing that?" James asked, flopping back down unto the bench deciding he really should get dressed.
"We all can't have the beautiful relationship like you and Evans have. Such intensity," Sirius said mockingly. James screwed his face up into resentment. Sirius sighed and shrugged his shoulders again. "When it's good, it's good." James shook his head, finally freeing his other foot from the boot.
"And that's really what you came in here to tell me," James said disbelievingly. He expected a reply, a sarcastic remark, but Sirius remained silent. James looked up. Sirius was looking off to the side, his face set into concentration.
"Wha-?" James worded.
"I have to go home for Christmas," Sirius said quietly.
"Yeah… Don't we all? You'll be coming back with me, naturally," James said, stuffing his gear into the locker.
"No, mate," Sirius huffed. "I got a letter." James rolled his eyes.
"What a coincidence. I'm known to get a few of those myself," James stated flatly. Sirius smiled, but it was one of those small, pitying kinds. They never suited Sirius' handsome face, but they were known to make an appearance now and again. James did like this—didn't like Sirius being vague. He should know better—should know there was never a reason to not be straightforward.
"I'm just telling you now that I can't go home with you for the holidays. I have to go back…there," he spat contemptuously. James exhaled wearily.
"Why does this year matter? I thought they didn't mind me so much," James said, buttoning up his shirt.
"Well, the previous years Regulus was never being initiated," Sirius replied. James bolted upright.
"Are you joking? He's being initiated? At age fourteen? Are your parents mad?"
"Roving mad, unfortunately," Sirius smiled darkly.
"I guess that means they've… given up on you, then?" James ventured. Sirius shook his head.
"Not exactly. It's probably another one of their schemes to make me realize all the errors of my ways."
"You think they're trying to make you jealous—of Regulus?" James set back against the lockers. It may be awful of him to think it, but if Regulus was initiated into the inner ring of the Black family, then maybe they'd al leave Sirius alone. That way, Sirius wouldn't ever have to worry about them again—any of them.
"It's just… Dammit! He's fourteen!" Sirius exclaimed. James watched his friend leap up and pace the floor. "And he tries so hard to not be like me. I don't even think he wants all that… that…" bit Sirius was fumbling for the word, so James delicately offered the words:
"-dark Arts loving-Pureblood zealotry-fanaticism?" Sirius stopped and stared at James.
"Yes." James shook his head.
"I hate to say it, but I'm sure it isn't easy… being your brother," James said quietly. Sirius bit his bottom lip.
"Well, it's not easy being their son," he barked back.
"I know. And you're just looking out for him," James offered. Sirius shook his head slowly.
"No, I'm not," he whispered harshly. "I'm glad they've picked him." Sirius was balling his hands up into tight fists. James got up worriedly and strode over to Sirius. He reached out a hand, realizing that Sirius was shaking slightly, but he hesitated. What could he say, really? If in Sirius' shoes—If he had been raised in that kind of family—James let his hand drop to his side limply.
"I am, too."
"Merlin! There you two are!" came a voice in the locker room doorway. James glanced over to see Peter. He didn't feel like saying hello. "Come on. Everyone's wanting to throw a party, and they can't when the one it's for isn't there!" Peter said breathlessly, face flushed, like he had been the one to volunteer to go find James and had probably run all over the entire school looking for him. Sirius pushed James back.
"How long does it take you to pamper yourself up?" Sirius asked. James was speechless for a moment, but then he realized his friend just didn't want to say anymore right then and there.
"You're the only tart around here," James quipped back, throwing over his jumper. Sirius grinned, and James returned the smile. Peter followed behind them looking back and forth between the two probably wondering what the tit and tat had been about, so James explained to him that Sirius was a renowned whore looking for credibility and meaning in life by traversing the world in search of willful virgins. Sirius smacked him against the back of his head. Truth hurt sometimes, it seemed.
The party tired James out more than he would have thought. Peter had pulled out some Dr. Filibuster's Fireworks, Sirius had brought out his secret stash of butterbeer, Remus had snuck an old radio out from nowhere, and so there was a lot of explosions blasting over a badly sung rendition of The Calypsos' recent hit 'Captured in My Siren Song' by a bunch of drunken students. James' stamina had been virtually sucked away. He crashed onto his four poster bed exhausted.
Some of the students were still up, but they were the older students, kids that James didn't know too well but were probably out for the butterbeer. It was surprisingly easy to ignore the noise and drift off to sleep. However, it was another thing entirely to ignore Moony's constant nudging.
"What?" James grumbled into his pillow.
"Lily wants you," Remus said quietly. James mumbled that he didn't care, but Moony obviously didn't hear him because he kept repeating James' name.
"I heard!" James finally shouted, raising is head up and blearily glaring at his friend. Remus stepped back looking frazzled. "Sorry…" James grunted. Damn Remus for making James feel guilty.
"Sorry, mate. It's just… she's more pushy than you are. Telling her no is like telling water to be dirt," Remus explained quietly.
"Thank Merlin we have the use of magic to rectify such obstacles," James yawned, sitting up and stretching. He had been so close to falling asleep.
"Firstly, I said telling it to be dirt, not spelling it into something else. And Secondly—Are you mad? Hex Lily? I'll never see the light of day again," Remus explained, shuddering at the thought. James squinted at him.
"You use to be scared of me. You used to do as you were told," James said tight lipped.
"Mum's much scarier than father is," Remus smiled. "And that was never true," he added hastily. James nodded his head noncommittally.
"Did she say what she wanted?" James dared to ask. Remus shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. James nodded his head. "Alright, alright. I'm so tired…" he whined as he got up and headed to the door.
"Did you and her—Are you two fighting?" Remus asked. James stopped and turned his head to smile at his friend.
"Of course not," he replied, and then he made his way down the steps where Lily was already waiting for him. James cursed inwardly. How can he be expected to wittily respond to her when he could barely keep his eyes open? What could be so urgent that she had to request him out of bed? "You summoned me?" James asked, stopping in front of her. Lily opened her mouth to speak but looked around her. There were still a lot of older students up. If she was worried about being overheard, she shouldn't be. All of them were so drunk that they wouldn't be able to tell a pixie from a pumpkin. And why was she concerned about being heard? Merlin!
"Let's go somewhere else," she whispered at him.
"By all means. I'm sure the girls' dormitories are quiet enough," James suggested. Her mouth grew tight, but instead of replying, she just grabbed his sleeve and pulled him towards the back of the room, far away from the others. Merlin, he was tired. "If your going to lash at me, I'm too tired to comprehend it or care," James said harshly.
"I know. I'm sorry," she said softly. Well, that was unexpected. "It's just… Slughorn's party—He sent me an invitation—You knows it's tomorrow right?" she asked. James nodded his heavy head up and down very slowly, not having enough energy to reply. "Right, listen. I was wondering—Allen asked me to go with him—"
"What?" James asked deadpanned. She furrowed her brows and pulled at the hem of her sweater.
"Yeah, he asked me to attend it with him. He's awfully pushy. I've told him no a million times—"
"Good."
"—but he keeps asking anyway." James' head was reeling. Sleep was pounding at the back of his head, making his eyes hurt and his brain fuzzy, but he still had enough consciousness left in him to be jealous.
"So keep telling him no," James demanded, though to Lily it probably sounded like he was merely agreeing with her to agree with her. Not because he wanted to find Allen and hex him for even thinking of asking his Lily out to any sort of… event… thing.
"Yes because that's obviously been going over well so far," she quipped.
"Why am I here?" James asked, leaning against the wall for support.
"Because, I… I know you're mad at me—I know that—It's just… will you go… with me instead?" she asked softly. James was thinking of what a feathery pillow underneath his head would feel like when his brain could finally work out what exactly Lily had just asked of him. He snapped his head in her direction and stared at her pointedly. Upon his reaction, Lily blushed profusely.
"Okay," he said evenly as he congratulated himself on reacting so calmly though his head was spinning and his chest was heaving. She looked at him dubiously, which James didn't know why, and then she gave him a small smile.
"Alright then. Um… thanks, I guess," she said, twirling her long, red hair around her finger absentmindedly.
"It's a huge inconvenience for me, really, but I figured being a Gryffindor means being gracious. I have to earn my namesake," he smiled, his heart pounding. She giggled girlishly making James grin even more.
"I'm honored I could be of service," she laughed. "Well, I suppose I'll let you get back to your sleeping," she said, taking a few steps backwards.
"My, how fair the lady is," James smiled, bowing low. She gave a curtsey, and with a last thank you, she left for bed herself. James watched her leave, rooted to the spot because so many things had just happened, all while he was asleep… practically. But it had been better than a dream. He smiled, feeling victorious, though he didn't exactly know why. He should, by all accounts, still be quite angry with Lily, but as she disappeared from his view, he found he wasn't. Happily and clumsily, he climbed the stairs back to his dormitory and crashed atop his bed and fell into a sound sleep.
"For the love of—Wake up!"
James was sent crashing onto the floor, but being the heavy sleeper that he was, it took him a whole two minutes to wake up and another minute to comprehend how he came to be on the floor. Once comprehension set in, he blearily glared up at a peevish Sirius.
"I can curse you, you know," James groggily threatened.
"You're the one already shriveled on the floor," Sirius threw back effortlessly. James tried to wield his sluggish thoughts into a pointed repartee, but sleep had unarmed him. Sirius quirked an eyebrow, an expression James had enough to sense to know meant, 'anything you say at this point is useless since you took so damn long'."
"Well, damn you," James said anyway. He heaved himself off the floor and stared about him. It was then he noticed the horrific situation he'd just be placed in. He whipped in the direction of Sirius who looked as if he'd already expected such a reaction. "What… is that?" James spat, pointing to the window. Sirius gave a boorish stare out the window and responded with equal disinterest.
"It's the outside."
James gritted his teeth. "Yes, and what color is the outside?" he seethed.
"Pink."
"Bravo. But I suppose you forgot that pink is code for: Way too fucking early!" James shouted, throwing his hands up into the air in a fit of disbelief. Everyone else was gone, but Remus and Peter were always early risers. Not James. No way.
"No, I remembered," Sirius said blandly.
"Oh, okay. Just as long as we're clear that you're obviously barking mad," James said tiredly as he sidled up to his bed in an attempt to reclaim his stolen sleep. But as his knee hit the soft, inviting surface of his bed, he was yanked back by Sirius.
"Sorry, mate, but you've got to get up," Sirius said.
"What is wrong with you-" James began to say, but as he turned around he caught the expression on Sirius' face before it disappeared into nothing.
"Look, normally I wouldn't wake you up, but something's happened…" Sirius started hesitantly.
"What is it?" James asked, turning around to face his friend fully. Sirius paused, searching for what James thought would be the right words. He must have given up on explaining linguistically and instead brought out a crumbled piece of parchment. Oh boy, James thought, taking the letter in his hand. He looked at Sirius briefly, making sure it was what Sirius wanted, before reading the contents. Within two sentences in, James already felt his blood flare up into a heated rage. A paragraph in and he wanted to burn the letter. Another two read through and he wanted to find the sender and incinerate them instead. By the end of it, James' hands were visibly shaking with the rage he felt trembling inside.
"Are they fucking full of it?" James angrily asked Sirius. Surprisingly, Sirius smiled at him softly.
"Wow," Sirius whistled, impressed. "I wasn't even that mad when I read it."
"Yeah, well, you didn't have someone build up the suspense," James retorted, throwing the disgusting letter back at Sirius. Sirius took it, looked at it as if he, too, was considering burning it, but then pocketed it.
"So…?" Sirius ventured, looking at James sheepishly. James was shaking his head back and forth.
"It's unbelievable—Inconceivable! Of all the fucking dumb things they could do!" James was spitting out rapidly. "To send you to Durmstrang? Really? Really?" Sirius trudged over to the nearest bed and plopped down on it.
"I wouldn't have woken you up, but as you read…" Sirius began.
"—they're heading over here today to talk to the Headmaster," James bravely finished for him. Sirius gave a half smirk that did nothing to relieve James of his panic. How could they do this to Sirius? To him? Break up their diabolical duo? Sirius was his best mate! Sure he liked Remus, and Peter was growing on him, but Sirius was his closest friend—his brother.
James mindlessly walked over to Sirius and sat down next to him.
"What're we going to do?" Sirius asked him. James' mind was already teeming with a myriad ideas on how to keep Sirius at Hogwarts, but most of them involved eliminating Sirius' stupid family and James' knew none of them were legal.
"Dumbledore won't let them do such a stupid thing," James said in an attempt at bravado. Sirius snorted caustically.
"I think parent beats Headmaster."
"Yeah, but Dumbledore has "the gift"," James said. It was true. The man seemed to have the uncanny (and often times annoying) way of talking someone into something. Like admitting one's guilt, James thought, remembering all the times that Dumbledore had with little more than three words and a watery blue stare had somehow compelled the Marauders to fess their crimes.
"I think that only works on you," Sirius said, kicking the bed.
"Well, we could always lose you in the Forbidden Forest. Won't guarantee I'll ever find you again, but at least you won't be with them," James replied.
"You are useless to me this early in the morning," Sirius said morosely.
"That's not fair! Just give me a few minutes…" and he lost himself in thoughts of how to rectify this debauchery. He wasn't very good at staying on track, though, because he kept going back to thoughts of how much he hated Sirius' family.
"Thought of anything yet?" Sirius asked him. James looked over at him, feeling a pang of guilt. Nothing. He had nothing. Here was his best friend about to ship off and away and James could think of nothing! Sirius was right. He was completely useless.
"I suppose Regulus is going to?" James asked, in hopes of stalling for time.
"Why do you think they're moving me in the first place? It's so their conniving Castor can realize his true potential," Sirius darkly replied.
"But why now?"
"Why not now? The sooner the better, right?"
"Quit saying it like that," James said quietly.
"Like what?"
"Like it's final." James didn't want to be overly dramatic, but he really didn't know how he'd get on with Sirius no longer at Hogwarts. Who'd share in his mischief? Remus certainly wouldn't, and Peter could never match James' cleverness like Sirius could.
"Well, when the time comes, just through me one hell of a bon voyage party, alright?" Sirius said, slapping James across the back. Sirius gave a grin, his trademark grin, and stood to leave. James sat a moment longer.
"Hey…" James began, his mind whirling with a sudden barrage of thoughts. Sirius stopped and turned around. "What if… and bare with me here—What if we make Hogwarts more… appealing to your parents?" James put forth.
"I don't understand," Sirius replied, looking at James perplexingly.
"IT may be stupid—It probably is—But your parents admire themselves on pureblood and what not. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't Hogwarts have the longest history of teaching those pureblood families?" He was looking at Sirius animatedly, leaning forward off the bed in his excitement.
"Go on," Sirius said, still not following.
"That's just it, though! We have to really bullshit your parents into believing that Hogwarts is the place to raise charming, little, snot-face purebloods. And if Regulus is going to take over, wouldn't they want the influences of… of—What's that git's name again? Ah… Lu—Lucus…?"
"Lucius?" Sirius offered.
James snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that's the prat! Anyway, don't they want their precious heir to establish ties with a family like the Malfoys?"
"I don't know, mate. This seems awfully far-fetched," Sirius trailed.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. But can't it work for now? Or incase we can't think of anything better?" James said.
"I guess it's something, right?" Sirius offered hopefully.
"It's something."
"Something's better than nothing..." Sirius stood there, looking as if he was pondering it further. James couldn't help but think that it was their best option (besides having Dumbledore spell the Blacks into keeping Sirius at Hogwarts—which James knew he could do) because what else was James and Sirius better at than lying? There were a few things that came in close second, but at the moment, James and Sirius were masters at deception. "Anyway, I'm hungry and they'll be here soon, and I at least want something in my stomach that way when I get to the point when they really make me sick, I'll have something to throw back at them," Sirius said, heading for the door. James thought about such a scene and hopped off the bed, trotting behind Sirius.
"My, how eloquently put, my friend."
They had waited all day for the bastards to show their faces, but when had they decided to come? When James had already made plans to attend a stupid bash with Lily! Merlin, the bastards! And now, as he walked into the crowded office of Slughorn, he already felt himself distancing himself from the rest of the students attending the gala. Sirius, who was also invited, declined last minute to go, wanting instead to hang around Dumbledore's office where his parents were currently shut in. That left James to fret alone.
Lily was smiling and greeting some of the others as they arrived, but James was too preoccupied to notice anyone. He thought he managed a grunt at someone, but he couldn't be sure. Lily, in between saying hullo to someone, glared at James, most likely ashamed by his behavior.
"What's your problem?" she asked him quietly. James looked down at her.
"Nothing," he said, shrugging. Lily looked ready to snap back when she looked past James' shoulder and froze. Then she grabbed James' arm and pulled him off across the room. "Now it's my turn to ask—What's your problem?" he said as he was swept along.
"Allen just got here," Lily said agitatedly.
"Merlin, you really don't like him, do you?" James asked after the tugging had ceased.
"Of course not. He's annoying," Lily said dismissively. James turned his head and glanced over his shoulder. Allen was a tall fellow- taller than James even (and annoyingly so)- and of stout build with a crop of brown hair atop his squared face. James couldn't blame Lily for her disinterest—James got the sense that if Allen spoke, the language would be broken and guttural… Troll-ish— but she didn't have to put it so… apathetically.
"Poor bloke," James said.
"Really? The rare time you're sympathetic, and it's towards Allen?" Lily asked disbelievingly.
"Why not Allen?" James asked curiously. Lily stared at James for a moment, her green eyes unblinking, but if James was supposed to read some message in their reflection, then they were speaking another language. James remained blank. She sighed.
"I don't get you sometimes," she said, shaking her head. "Look, there's Remus," she said nodding off behind James. "I'm gonna go say hullo."
"Can't you do it from here?" James asked. Why was she all round up tight? She wasn't the one who was having a friend expatriated. James didn't even want to come to this stupid party. Nothing exciting ever happened—Not unless he or Sirius started it, anyway—and James wasn't in much of an instigating mood. She should be more grateful, really. He did come for her after all.
"No," she said evenly, "because that would be rude." James got the feeling that she was trying to accuse James somehow of being rude, but he didn't even have enough time to say anything before she had stepped around him, leaving behind only the faint smell of her shampoo. Fine. He hadn't wanted to be here anyway. Slughorn's "gatherings" were always a snob-fest anyway. Slughorn was infamous for showing favoritism towards those he thought were exceptional in some capacity, and every month he's gather those students and throw a party. James had yet to figure out why Slughorn had this particular trait, but that was generally because he couldn't be bothered to care long enough to figure it out.
Before James could leave, sadly, said bastard came strutting up to him.
"James! Glad to see ya've made it!" he cried, slapping James across the back three times. "I see you came with Miss Evans," he whispered, leaning in close and giving James a wink. Yes you lewd reptile, James thought as he put on a false smile. I did come with Lily, and now I'm leaving.
"Yes, well, I wish I could stay longer, but I'm afraid I still have a few more essays to complete before curfew," James smiled. He didn't know why, but he had never particularly liked Slughorn. Maybe it was because the man was too familiar with everyone. Or maybe it was because he was Head of Slytherin. Either way, the man annoyed James.
"Oh, tish tosh! I know you've got them all squared away," Slughorn laughed, cupping James on the shoulder. "Now don't lie to this old bean—It's the gathering, isn't it?" Slughorn asked, squinting around the students congregating in his office. "Yes… not the most exciting bunch, but you and Black usually liven it up," and then as if noticing the absence of James' comrade, he looked surprised. "Where is Mr. Black?" James wanted to tell the slug that Sirius was damn sick and tired of his boorish parties, but instead James flashed another one of his disarming smiles.
"Oh, afraid he's not feeling to well. Me and a couple of others dared him to eat a whole packet of Belch Powder and… he did. Course now he's wallowing in bed, but he made a pretty galleon off of it, so I don't think he'll be complaining too much in the morning," James lied. Slughorn burst out laughing, leaning heavily on James for his hand was still on his shoulder.
"Oh, young boys will be boys," he chortled. Merlin, this was nauseating. Could no one think of a better response then that tired line? How about, "Why are you lot so stupid?" That may elicit more of a response out of him instead of the fake grin James gave his professor.
"Hopefully always, sir," he replied.
"Ho ho! Yes, yes, yes… Well, then I won't keep you," Slughorn said, and just as soon as he had finished vocalizing the phrase, he dismissed James entirely and went to chat up Irvin Ostheim, a nebbish Ravenclaw who continuously received perfect marks, but could the boy form a comprehensible, fluid sentence? No.
Not wasting another second to get out of the crowded office, James made for the door, but as he was almost at it's threshold, he turned instinctively towards Lily. He stopped. She was giggling. Not only was she giggling, but she was twirling her hair around her slender finger. And who was it that was obviously flirting with her? None other than Allen.
But as James stared on at the scene, he wondered why he wasn't more angry. Curious still was why he felt so unsurprised. Maybe if you hadn't been such a bastard earlier, said a voice in his mind, but James shook his head. No. That wasn't it at all. With that, he left.
He stepped outside and already felt more relaxed. He hadn't realized how tense he had been. Of course, it was completely because he still hadn't heard from Sirius. He should check up on him now—go wait alongside with him…
"How strange," a voice spoke. James stopped reflexively, years of that tone had instilled that into him. He looked up to find Snape leaning against the wall opposite of him.
"What's the matter, Snivelly? Not invited to the party?" James asked blandly. He really wasn't in the mood for this either. The Slytherin stared at him before glancing off to the side, to nowhere in particular.
"Oh no, I was," he said evenly, simply. James hated the staccato way in which the git spoke.
"I can see that. Tell me, when does lurking outside the party count as actually attending?"
"Then how about you?"
"Left on my own accord," James replied, bored by this blasé exchange.
"Of course you did. I see your side-kick is absent," Snape put snidely. "I wonder why." James felt himself tense, but he couldn't let Snivelly see that.
"I'm flattered that you obviously think of me as the leader," James said, smiling.
"Of course you are," Snape replied. Well, James hadn't been expecting that. "But tell me, will you for much longer?" He stared at James jeeringly. James knew it was a taunt, and he could never understand why Snape cornered himself like this. When had he ever won a quarrel? Won anything? Then again, Snape was saying things that were annoying James more so than usual, and he didn't like the way Snape was so pompously saying them.
"Don't worry, Snivelly. You will forever remain my disparaged subject," James said kindly. Gleefully, James noticed a spark of hatred flash within the git's black eyes. Such success always riled him more; it was why James sometimes took things too far. It was the rush of it.
"Because you force me to be," Snape said, seething, "and I have to wonder why that is."
"Please, don't flatter yourself with whatever poppycock you're envisioning in that twisted mind of yours," James said.
"No, I assure you that's a role you superimposed on me… all by your own volition," Snape bit back.
"That's exactly the crap I told you not to give validity to," James sighed.
"Then what is it?" Snape asked evenly. James faltered. What was what? In the minute seconds it took for James to work that out, Snape was smirking. "Like I said… How strange." By this point, James was no longer comprehending the babble that was spewing out of the slimy git's mouth, so he needed clarification.
"By all means, Snivelly. Enlighten me," he said, jaded.
"Did you not come here with Evans?" he asked.
"My god, man! How do you ever sleep when you're obviously stalking the poor girl all the time?"
"And you left without her," Snape added, skirting James entirely. James stared at him blandly, waiting for whatever point the Slytherin was having such a hard time conveying. "Tell me, is it any guy that talks to Evans that sends you over the edge," and Snape's eyes tapered, "or is it just when it's me?"
What?
"Oh but…"—and he looked into the room where Lily was so plainly visible, still giggling shyly beside the brutish Allen—"… looks like it's not the first choice."
"What are you saying?" James regretfully asked. Snape's hollowed, black eyes glinted with a triumph James could not decipher.
"Just wondering what threat I am to you."
And with that, he left James. Walked off while James—James!—was rooted to the ground—was left hanging on his insult, working through the onslaught of rage that ensued—was left feeling like a… a…
… fucking bastard.
"Threat?" James snorted into the quiet outside the gregarious party behind him, his blood racing throughout him in heated, powerful pulses. He chuckled to himself, but it was weak. He ran a hand through his hair and gave another snort of affected haughtiness for good measure before setting of towards Dumbledore's office.
I assure you, Snape, James thought darkly as he headed up the steps that would take him to the second floor, you are no threat to me—of no consequence even. But as he reached the top step and walked along the corridor, he couldn't reel in his… What was it he felt? Anger? Annoyance? No…
However, as he turned the corner and as his wearied friend came into view sitting outside of the Headmaster's office, he knew what to name that feeling that reverberated so strongly underneath his calming exterior, and he didn't like it one bit.
James Potter was feeling… defeated.