In third year, Peter unknowingly changed the course of history.
It was in History of Magic. While Binns prattled on about the Goblin Resolutions of 1398, the Marauders were whispering in the back. They had always been well-known throughout their year, but it wasn't exactly unheard of for a seventh year not to recognize them. But that year had changed things- their pranks were becoming more outlandish and daring, James was the hero of the last Quidditch game, Sirius was becoming better-looking by the day, while Peter and Remus tagged along for the ride. The attention was going to James' head, and, looking to further impress his classmates, he'd been taking challenges for the past week.
Blake Moors dared him to hold his breath for two minutes in the Black Lake at night- James held it for two minutes and forty-six seconds, starkers. He coughed up about a liter of water afterwards, but James had been quick to point out that he hadn't technically breathed.
Ian Sythers wanted to see him do a back flip off a wall. Admittedly, it took James a few tries and a near-concussion, but after two weeks he pulled it off.
But neither of these stunts would compare to Peter's dare during History of Magic: ask Lily Evans out.
At the time, Peter thought he was doing the group a favor. He'd noticed James looking at Lily for no apparent reason, and he'd seen how his friend always seemed to mess up his hair whenever she was around. Peter just thought he was giving James the excuse; he didn't dream that it would turn into an obsession.
So when James received a sharp "no" from Lily, he resolved to simply try again. After all, it had worked for the wall flip, why not a girl? But after several public rejections, he wasn't about to abandon the challenge. Even at fourteen, James didn't half-ass anything. He was going to request at every opportunity, intimidate every boyfriend, and if Lily wanted to be public about rejection, then he'd be very public about requests for a date.
Fourth year was unproductive, serving no other purpose except to solidify James' determination to win this game. Lily was right when she yelled at him that she was only a challenge to him; truthfully, James thought she was a bit of a bint. The extent of his affection was his appreciation for how red her face could turn when she was pissed, but it surely didn't approach anything he proclaimed it to be.
Fifth was much like fourth, except that this time James could feel something growing in his chest every time he looked at her. He found himself going out of his way to impress her instead of just annoyingly demanding a date. He'd deliberately cause mischief on the fifth floor because he knew she'd be patrolling there. Sirius' complaints about her were suddenly met with resentful silence instead of eager agreement. But James did not like her, he'd remind the Marauders- it was only a challenge.
It was only a dare.
And it was, at the time. Then summer came, and James started to think things like how is she doing or I wonder how she's changed. It was bloody Summer Holiday, but James couldn't stop thinking about red hair and reluctant grins. Denial only worked for so long- he fancied her, he knew, and when the beginning of sixth year came around, James knew it wasn't a game any longer.
Well, not just a game.
"What?" James stared at the mirror in his hand incredously, ceasing his frantic packing. His trunk lay open on his bed; various books, clothes, and a littany of other items were sprawled on the floor. He knew it would be an awful pain once he got to Hogwarts to sort everything out, but, like every year, he couldn't be bothered. It was 10:56 on September 1st, and James was running extremely late.
"Yeah, I know. The train's never late, but some Ministry bloke just told us all that it's being checked for Death Eaters and Dark Magic. They're a bit worried that students will be targeted," Sirius said on the other end of the mirror. He said it so nonchalantly that he could've been talking about detention, but James saw the weight in his friend's face. "Anyway- your shirt's on backwards, mate- you don't have to hurry up. I'm sure it's gonna take them the whole bloody school year to check the thing, so you've got plenty of time."
James dropped the mirror on top of his Quidditch gloves so he could right his shirt, but still kept eye contact with Sirius as he took it off. "Does this have anything to do with the raids?"
"I'm sure. The Death Eaters have been rather busy as of late." James couldn't see the mirror as these words were spoken, as he knocked his glasses crooked when he pulled the shirt over his head, but he could tell it was Remus' voice.
"Is Lily there?" James' voice broke in the middle, and he suddenly found himself unable to make eye contact with either of the faces displayed in reflection.
Sirius nodded, but Remus glanced around the station as if to double-check. "Yeah," the former said, "Moony asked her- the Evanses in the Prophet weren't her family."
"Good," James sighed, stuffing the rest of his belongings in his trunk. "How 'bout Wormtail?"
Sirius snorted. "Yeah, he's here. He's been flirting with Meadowes for the past half hour."
"So it's Meadowes now?" Remus questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I thought the two of you were extremely well-aquainted." James sniggered.
"That was last year," said Sirius, as if sixth year happened during the Dark Ages.
"Is that the extent of your argument? 'It was last year'?"
"Oh, shut it, Moony. We'll see you soon, Prongs, yeah?"
"Yeah, see you in a few," James said, placing the now normal mirror in his trunk. He closed it with minimal difficulty, picked up his broomstick, threw Bitch in a cage, and pulled his trunk off the bed.
Potter Manor was built more like a maze to a newcomer than anything else, but James maintained that anyone whom lived in Hogwarts could find a room in his house. He shut the door of his bedroom behind him, making sure to lock it magically- neither his father nor Blinky needed to be free to snoop while he was gone. James walked down the stairs, his trunk thumping obnoxiously at every step.
His father stood at the bottom of the stairs. He was standing as straight as James had ever seen him, almost as if to show his son that he was perfectly capable of taking care of things without a seventeen-year-old boy. Harold embraced his son as soon as he decended the last step, nearly knocking the wind out of him. James had not been held so tightly since his mother's death, and the sudden display of strength surprised him.
"Head Boy," his father said, patting him on the back. "Can honestly say I never expected that." James grinned as he pulled away, balancing his trunk for what he knew would be a long good-bye.
"Yeah, well, you should still expect the occasional displinary letter."
"Only the occasional? So you will be straightening up your act?"
They both chuckled a little, but the sound soon faded into silence. James steeled himself for what he knew came next.
"Your mother would be so proud of you, James. She was Head Girl, you know, back in her day. I remember being so intimidated by her; she caught me sneaking out more often than not, but she left Hogwarts before I reached my more devious years."
"Yeah?" James quipped, faking interest in a tale he'd heard more times than he'd asked Lily out. In fact, his father had told him all of this last night, but James wasn't about to point that out.
"I remember this one time-"
"Actually, Dad, I'm running kind of late," James pointed out. "I've really got to run. I'll write you when I get there, alright?"
His father looked visibly put out to be interrupted in what was once a sensational story, but nodded with somber eyes. "Have a good last year, James." His green eyes suddenly shone.
"Thanks, Dad."
James left quickly. He knew his father wouldn't want to cry in front of his son.
King's Cross felt very different this year. The Dark had alwasys been rising, ever since the Marauders' first year, but the station pulsed with paranoia. The Muggles didn't know of Killing Curses, Death Eaters, or Voldemort, but they could feel that something was not quite right. James had to join a group of fifth years in order to pass through the barrier unnoticed; anyone traveling by himself was immeadiately suspicious.
The platform wasn't much different. Wizards in magenta robes were hurrying in and out of the train, sparks and flashes of light erupted from all parts of the train. Several people broke out into grins at the sight of James, expecting some sort of joke to lighten the mood. A few minutes later, the robes of one of the Ministry wizards were forcing their owner into ridiculous ballet poses. It only lasted a short while, otherwise James was sure he'd land in serious trouble, but it was enough of a show to relax some faces and bring some more familiar ones his way.
"Nice one, Prongs," Remus said in an undertone as the disgruntled Ministry wizard passed them.
"Thank you, Moony. Suprised neither one of you has done anything yet. This crowd is practically dying for an excuse to laugh."
"Is that going to be your defense when McGonagoll hears about this?"
"I don't think Minnie will mind," Sirius said, pushing his trolley next to James'. "What's the time?"
"Six past," James responded, having just checked the hour himself.
Remus groaned. "They've been at this forever."
"It's got to be about done," Sirius said confidently. "Five more minutes. How difficult can it be?"
Apprarently more difficult than five minutes. The train ended up boarding at 11:34. The Marauders pushed some gawky second-years out of their usual compartment, up in the very front, so they would get the best selection off the trolley. Peter, who'd found them at the last second, looked slightly put out from an exasperated rejection from Dorcas Meadowes, but his mood turned up when Remus pointed out that at least he hadn't been "repeatedly rejected by the same bird like some people".
"Ha ha," James mocked. "Haven't heard that one for the past four years."
"Don't you hear something wrong with that sentence, mate?" Peter said, emboldened by his successful comparison to James. "Like the 'four years' part?"
Sirius roared with laughter, causing the last second year to jump with fright as she scurried from the compartment. James shot a dark look at the other Marauders, which was enough to silence Peter as he hoisted his trunk on the rack above.
"Don't you two have to go to the prefects' meeting?" he asked quickly, obviously changing the subject.
"Yeah," Remus conceded, ushering James out to the hallway. "And Prongs has to help lead it. This'll be a sight."
Peter and Sirius didn't laugh at this one, only shrugged in agreement as the other two walked down the train. James turned to wave good-bye, but the compartment door was already closed. He wasn't sure if this meant something or not.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?" Remus asked, a slight chuckle escaping his throat.
"Not the slightest," James admitted freely, pulling his Head Boy badge from his pocket. In the short time he'd owned it, he'd managed to put a small dent on the bottom, clip a corner off, and smear a bit of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum across the "H". James stole a glance at Remus' prefect badge; it was spotless.
"Maybe they won't notice." Remus had caught James looking. Before he could explain the dent, chip, or smear, his friend opened the compartment door on the immediate right, and the voices within went completely silent, eager to see who was at the door.
Twenty-three people had forced themselves into the space; the discomfort was obvious in all of their faces, especially since Lily, who seemed to have been about to begin, had a good two feet of space separating her from the crowd. Remus and James shoved their way into the compartment. A few people greeted Remus as warmly as possible given the close-quarters, but James saw more than a few questioning glares as eyes passed over him. What could he be doing there except to cause mischeif?
"Remus!" Lily called out. Her face brightened, though she looked considerably relieved, until she saw James. Her smile wavered, the glint in her eye darkened, and her thoughts became so easily visible it was almost as if they were stamped into her forehead.
What's he up to?
"Potter, if you have another request for a date from my girlfriend, could you at least wait until after the meeting to humiliate yourself?" Amos shouted from the corner.
A few people laughed, or at least smiled exasperately, but everyone fell quiet at Remus' words.
"I'd watch how you speak to the Head Boy, if I were you." James knew the look that was painted all across his mate's face- it was the same look he had whenever he moved the last piece on the board forward and said, "Checkmate." Taking his cue, James pinned the disgraced badge upon his chest, smirking as several people dropped their jaws.
"W-what?"
"No way-"
"It must be Lupin's."
"You've got to be joking-"
"Yeah, it's a bit of a shock."
Every eye, which had previously been sharing a disbelieving glance with a friend, was suddenly fixed on James as soon as he'd spoken. Amos even stopped talking, his mouth slightly open, and James suddenly realized he was expected to say something else, that he was somehow supposed to justify his appointment.
"I have the letter to prove it," he supplied, pulling the wadded parchment from his pocket. He chucked it at Amos, whom promptly dropped it in surprise. "Look, as far as I'm concerned, Dumbledore's off his rocker," James continued. "I was just as surprised as you all to find out I was Head Boy, and I really think that any one of you would do a better job. I'm not a prefect, and it's not exactly a secret that I don't follow the rules, so for me to be made Head Boy is just... ridiculous. But, seeing as I am Head Boy, I suppose it follows that none of you can really punish me anymore. Isn't that right?"
A few bristled with indignation, Lily included, but most of the prefects surrounded Amos as he unfolded the letter, each with the expression of superiority, as if they expected it to be written in crayon. Remus rolled his eyes, but James saw the subtle grin hidden under his exasperation.
"He's really Head Boy," said Rachel Hawkins, a fifth-year Hufflepuff. "That's definitely Dumbledore's writing."
"Well, of course he's Head Boy," said Lily suddenly. She forced her way through the throng of prefects with minimal difficutly, halting right in front of James. "Who else would do that to their badge?" She tapped the shield on his chest sharply with her wand; James looked down to see that it'd been repaired perfectly.
"Potter's right about one thing," declared Stephen Beckons. "He doesn't deserve the title. Is there any way we could replace him?"
"Yes. If James, Dumbledore, and I can agree, a new Head is appointed," Lily said quickly, as if reading from a manual. Her tone changed quickly, though, as she swung around to face James again. Though he was about a whole head taller than her, James felt as if they were eye to eye as soon as she spoke. "James, I realize that you see this as a chance to flout every single rule in the book and not get punished for it, but being Head Boy is not a joke. The fact is you don't deserve this. I've earned being Head Girl, and I'm not about to let you take the chance to be good at it away. Are we clear?"
James scoffed. The feeble truce they'd set up the year before was obviously on shaky ground, and when he saw her put her hand on her hip and stare him down, he realized she was in no way speaking to him as a friend, but an enemy. At least this was familiar territory. "Lily, I realize that you see this as a chance to enforce every single rule in and out of the book and basically ruin any chance of anyone having a good time, but being a 'good' Head Girl doesn't require a 'good' Head Boy. The fact is I don't deserve this, but I intend to have some fun with it. I'm not about to let you take that away from me. Are we clear?"
"Unfortunately, being witty arsehole isn't in the job description," Lily spat.
"Did you just call me witty? I think you did."
"Potter!" she reprimanded sharply, and James suddenly felt this was much more like fifth year. The summer seemed have faded away that awkward friendship, but he couldn't stop to evaluate why. "I don't want to play games with you. Are you going to work to be a proper Head or not?"
As if there was an answer besides the obvious. He wasn't about to lie about his intentions. He was already going to be a disgrace to the title of Head Boy, he wasn't about to deceive them too. And he for sure wasn't about to give it up. Sirius had been right- this was a golden opportunity. There were massive amounts of points to be taken from Slytherin, detentions to be handed out to exclusively Snivellus, prefects deterred from strategic locations...
Lily's face fell at his hesitation, wiping his mind of thoughts of points and pranks, replacing them with memories of her worrying whether Cynthia McAdams would be appointed instead of her; how she had come to class with bags under her eyes, not from staying up partying like most, but from pulling extra patrols. James remembered her face when Sirius told her she didn't have to try so hard, that she was a shoe-in for Head Girl anyway. Sirius had meant it as an insult, but the badly-concealed glow on Lily's face had told a different story. James knew that Lily had been dreaming of becoming Head Girl since fifth year, maybe even before that. This was something Lily had wanted for years- to be Head Girl- and James suddenly realized that him being Head Boy destroyed any chance she had at becoming credible.
He didn't know why this filled his chest with resignation, as their relationship was seemingly returning back to a mixed hostility, but his mind was suddenly, irrefutably, changed. "I'm gonna talk to Dumbledore about it- step down, you know? This isn't for me." He couldn't believe he'd considered any other option.
Remus furrowed his eyebrows, the question hanging silently from his lips. The compartment was filled with tilted heads and open mouths- most clearly didn't know how to react. Amos clapped him on the back, said, "Thanks, Potter," with such respect that James had to make sure it really was the Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain. Lily nodded, clearly relieved, but her eyes remained cloudy with confusion as she stared him down. James was suddenly sure that his deepest secrets were written on his forehead or something, because her expression cleared and was replaced with a faint admiration.
James left the compartment before the actual meeting began, figuring he'd have no place in it soon enough. But as he closed the door, he wondered if all revelations were supposed to be this confusing.
Like most people, James was deeper than life gave him credit for. It wasn't that life hadn't given him plenty of scenarios to prove he had a serious side; last year had given him far too many. But people perhaps thought him more shallow than others, and, even James supposed, they had good reason to. How many times had he been serious in front of any classmate, besides the Marauders? Even when it concerned D.E.W.B.s or Lily- people that had a direct line to his emotions- James had always made it a joke whenever it'd been public. He had a proclivity for popularity, but he knew that reaching the top of the social ladder wasn't the end of the game- you had to stay there. And it was so much easier to be well-liked by sticking to jokes and Quidditch rather than repeated rejections and ethics. Not to mention, James was a teenage boy; his reputation had been built largely at the age of thirteen, and what popular boy is having deep conversations about life and death at that age?
So, like most people, James was deeper than life gave him credit for.
But that didn't stop him from being unable to stop sneaking glances at Lily's tits while they sat in Dumbledore's office. Sirius had been right. They were definitely bigger. He'd put a few Galleons on B's, maybe C's if she was wearing the right bra. James wasn't a hundred percent sure on how tit-sizing really worked, but he figured knowing wasn't really necessary as long as he could reasonably guess. Remus always had a knack for it, though none of the Marauders knew why, seeing as even Peter had gone farther than him. But none of that was exactly relevant- James tried for focus on what the Headmaster was saying.
"... not my most light-hearted speech, I must confess. But with the world as it is... A topic for later. You two wanted to speak to me about something, yes?"
"Yes, Professor," Lily said, her posture straighter, her tone light. James rolled his eyes, barely refraining from mimicking her. She only acted so proper in front of teachers, and it was almost a reflex to poke fun at it. "James and I have come to the consensus that he's not entirely fit to be Head Boy. We'd like to formally request that you appoint a replacement, sir."
Dumbledore rose from his desk, a twinkle in his eyes. James got the sense that he'd known exactly what they'd requested to talk to him about before they'd even entered the office. "'Not entirely fit'?" he repeated, his voice low, and he suddenly grinned, as if remembering a private joke. "If the school governers themselves had approached me at this time last year and asked for Mr. Potter to be appointed Head Boy, I would have refused on the spot. Since you obviously consented to this meeting, Mr. Potter, I think it's appropiate to speak freely; you delibrately defy authority. You are a notorious troublemaker. You certainly do not work very effectively with Miss Evans, whom has always been the primary canidate for Head Girl,"-Lily blushed, but James saw the supressed smile light up her face-"so it was only natural for the staff and yourselves to question my appointment. But because of the events last year, I know you to be exactly the character Hogwarts needs. You may not be the best choice, but certainly you are the right one."
James blanched, worried that Dumbledore might speak too freely with Lily present. He spoke as generally as possible. "Sir, I only did what any other person would do for a friend. Any other decent person, anyway."
The Headmaster fixed James with a hard stare. "Were you really thinking of your friend, James?"
At first, he was affronted that Dumbledore would even ask that question. He opened his mouth in indignation, a few choice words in mind, regardless of Dumbledore's seniority, when he realized it wasn't meant as a question of his loyalty. At that moment when James had first heard that Snape was going down to the Whomping Willow, he hadn't been thinking about how it would've ruined Remus- that revelation had come to him in the hospital wing the day after. Despite the urgency of that night, James could recall his motivation very clearly. A life was a life, regardless of whose it was, and saving it had been the only thing that mattered.
James shook his head resolutely. Lily looked between the two of them, trying to figure out what they were discussing without actually asking.
"And later that year, you sacrificed yourself for the sake of Miss Warren and Miss Brookings-"
"What?" Lily asked, aghast.
"Yeah, I thought everyone kn- Never mind. Professor, that doesn't make a good Head Boy. I only did-"
"James, if you would permit me a small interruption," Dumbledore said. "I realize that to someone so young, with parents such as yours, you believe that what you did was natural, was what anyone would've done. But it is exactly that naivity that makes you the right choice. You're a natural leader, and in a time such as this it's not necessarily a by-the-book Head Boy Hogwarts needs. I am asking you to step up."
He wanted to comment on how that had been far from a small interruption, but James sensed that the time for trivialities had passed a long time ago in this conversation. "Asking me, sir? Implying I have the option of saying no?"
"If you really do not want the position, Mr. Potter, I, of course, will allow you to step down, but-"
"Sir," Lily said suddenly, not sounding at all like she usually did when she spoke to professors. Her voice was more vibrant, less reserved. "I would like to withdraw my earlier objection. I'd prefer if James would remain Head Boy."
"What? Lily, no, think about this," James scrambled. "I'm not right for this. I'm not responsible enough for this. Just let someone else who wants it be Head Boy."
"Perhaps we will discuss the subject if any relevant events surface," Dumbledore suggested abruptly, closing the subject with a grin. "As it stands, Mr. Potter, you are an acting Head. I'm sure Miss Evans will show you the spellbook, so to speak. You may leave."
James stood up from his chair, thrown back at the recent turn of events. "Professor, I-"
"That was not an invitation to do so, James. Please, I have other matters to attend to." Dumbledore moved back to his desk, picking up a piece of parchment as if neither of the students were present. Lily pulled on his sleeve, nodding towards the door. With any other professor, James would've stayed and argued, but Dumbledore spoke with such a finality that he reluctantly followed Lily's lead and left the office.
"What was that?" James practically shouted as soon as the door closed behind them. Lily looked at him in alarm, not deigning to answer until they'd decended the stairs.
"What does Dumbledore mean by you 'sacrificed' yourself?"
"It doesn't matter now. Lily. You just made me Head Boy! What were you thinking? I-"
"What does he mean by that, James? I knew that you'd gotten in some trouble with them, but 'sacrificed'? I'd say that's a pretty descriptive term, wouldn't you?"
"I just gave them some time to get the hospital wing- Lily, you realize that you're gonna be stuck with me, right? At least until I do something stupid. Which I'm going to do, by the way, since one, I've no idea how to be Head Boy, and two, I don't want to be it anyways."
"You just bought them some time? How?" Lily questioned, apparently unable to hear anything past the first sentence someone spoke.
"I'll tell you if you tell me why you suddenly want me to be Head Boy," James said, fixing her with a steady stare. She rolled her eyes, as if he'd just demanded a Sugar Quill in exchange for the deed to Gringotts.
"Dumbledore has a point- you're a leader. And the school needs an admirable leader just as much as it needs someone to tell them to obey the rules. I expect you to not abuse your powers as Head Boy, but I'd be an idiot if I asked you to stop breaking the rules."
"Well, actually, you've done that a fair many times-"
"Oh, shut it," Lily interrupted, waving her hand aside. "Your turn."
"You're actually asking for a story of my heroics?"
"Well, this one doesn't involve a broomstick, so-"
"You'd be surprised-"
"Anyway..."
"Right. I told them they could take me and I wouldn't report them for it later, as long as they let Madeline and Angela go. Bit stupid of them to take it really, but goes to show you how much they hate me." James shrugged. "The Ministry came in and performed Legilimency on Angela- she'd promised not to say anything- so they got suspended."
Lily inhaled deeply, looking at James with a sudden concern. "What did they do to you?"
"Nothing permanent," James said bitterly, not really wanting to go into detail of how he'd been beaten, degraded, and tortured; how he'd only been saved because he was pureblooded. His fist clenched involuntarily. "Just make sure that you're always accompanied after hours, yeah? Promise?"
"Of course, I'm not an idiot," Lily confirmed, her tone contrasting greatly with the gentle hand on his arm. "James... have you talked about it?"
"Yeah, I've talked about it," James said automatically, but realized immediately after speaking that he hadn't really described anything in detail to the Marauders or his father. Not that either hadn't asked- just that he'd always generalized it. Lily seemed to read his expression easily, her eyes filled with pity.
"James, why are you so eager to brag about Quidditch, but you really did something here, you don't even try to impress me?" Lily finished the last bit as a slight joke, but he could tell it wasn't rhetorical.
"Not everybody can win a Quidditch game by rolling on a broom at the last second. Anybody can roll over in a fight."
"But would they?"
James ignored her. "How am I supposed to have fun and still be Head Boy?"
"The others before you didn't die of boredom," Lily objected.
"The others before me were actually qualified."
"So are you. Just in a different way."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Is this how it's going to be all year? Enemies one minute, friends the next?"
"Maybe. You've got a problem with that, Potter?" Was her voice... flirting? No, she had a boyfriend, she was still with that arsehole Diggory, but the familiar half-smile still spread across his face, the same one he always used when asking her out.
James was about to respond in what he was sure was going to be a very charming and witty reply (he hadn't actually thought it up yet), when Amos and Dorcas rounded the corner.
"Lily!" Dorcas exclaimed. "There you are. How'd the meeting go?"
"Still Head Boy, Potter?" Amos asked, nodding at the badge still pinned to his chest. "For how long?"
"Dumbledore refused. He insisted James be Head Boy," Lily said too quickly, causing Dorcas to raise an eyebrow. She'd always been a bad liar; James saw her bite her lip, heard her voice hitch in the middle of her sentence, but he felt the desperation in her eyes as she begged him nonverbally to agree.
"Off his rocker, but what can you do?" James said, playing along. He had recognized in an instant that Lily wasn't being truthful, but Amos clearly didn't see anything amiss. James was suddenly furious that Amos was so quick to accept Lily's answer- did he even know her? James had probably never been in her presence for longer than a class period, but he knew very well that Lily couldn't lie worth her life.
"Are you alright, James?" Dorcas asked, noticing his continued glare at Amos.
"Couldn't be better. Just in shock, really. This is what it must feel like to get something you don't deserve," James spat challengingly.
"Should be a familiar feeling," Amos replied. "Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup last year, didn't they?"
"Gryffindor also beat you, 300-60," Dorcas put in, her hands resting on her hips.
"Shoddy Keeping on your part," James supplied. "Can't think why you'd use Quidditch as something I don't deserve, seeing as you're Captain. Or does Hufflepuff always exult their worst player?"
Amos' face was bright red, but whether from anger or embarrassment, James didn't know. "You're right, Potter," he said with obvious effort. "You deserved the Cup. What do you say we put this animosity behind us? Fresh start, at least until Quidditch season." He held out his hand between them, an appropiately wide smile on his face.
James took his hand, noticing the near-crippling grip on his fingers."It would be a bit awkward, otherwise. With me as your superior and all."
"James!" Lily reprimanded, her tone slackening both boys' grip. "Amos was only trying to-"
"Are you joking me?" James asked, jaw dropping. Did she just not know her boyfriend any better than he knew her, or was she really that horrific at reading people? He shook his head slowly in disbelief. "Forget it. I'll see you around." He walked away much faster than necessary, but if he heard one more word from that worthess pretty-boy, he'd-
"James! Wait!"
He stopped at the corner, turning his head to watch Dorcas catch up. She was walking briskly towards him (he supposed her heels made running impossible), her expression annoyed as Amos and Lily embraced behind her. James found himself facing forward, unable to look behind him again. He heard Amos whisper, and his teeth locked as he pictured his mouth by Lily's ear.
"I'm sorry," Dorcas said, suddenly beside him. She started walking forward, and James followed.
"Sorry?" he asked gruffly.
"Yeah. Amos is such an idiot. Don't get me wrong, he's damn good-looking, and smart, and responsible, and all that, but... He's incredibley annoying. And Lily around him... ergh! She's just not herself at all. It's like she's in eternal prefect-mode around him. But, whatever, he was her boyfriend-"
"'Was'?"
"Well, they broke it off over the summer, but Amos is obviously trying to get back together," Dorcas informed, passing a portriat that would cut their time to the Gryffindor tower in half.
"But Diggory called her his girlfriend on the train," James said.
"Did he really? I bet I hear about that one tonight."
The pair of them mounted the stairs in silence. James didn't have to ask why she'd wanted to walk with him; Dumbledore had insisted that no one ought to travel the halls alone at the Welcoming Feast. Professor Slughorn himself had escorted the Slytherins to their Common Room- walking right behind Avery the entire time. James found himself double-checking eveyr corner they passed, and he saw Dorcas do the same. It felt strange to be on edge in Hogwarts.
"Sphinx." They'd reached the Fat Lady. She nodded after Dorcas spoke, swinging open to reveal the dim room behind. The fire was barely burning in the grate. Judging by the candy wrappers that littered the floor, a few people had tried to refrain from sleep, but it was near impossible on the first night back.
They were about to part ways up their respective staircases when James grabbed her shoulder. She spun around quickly, and he was engulfed by some sort of delicate perfume.
"Did you ever... tell Lily? About what happened?"
"No," Dorcas said guiltily. "No, I didn't. I should've, but I told you that I wouldn't, and... Well, there's no reason to add porquipine quills to an already explosive potion." She smiled slightly. "For the record, I've always been rooting for you. Lily's just..."
"Lily?" James supplied.
"Exactly. Which can be such a bother."
"Yeah, I guess. But she's worth it." James winced internally, not believing that actually came out of his mouth. He instantly mussed up his hair as Dorcas laughed, but he had a strange certainty that it wasn't at him.
"Fuck," she cursed, but she was still smiling broadly, staring right at him. Her eyes shone, but she hadn't been laughing hard enough for it to be tears of mirth. "Why can't every girl have a James?"