L.E.
He traces the letters over and over again with the detail he'd normally give to doodles of Snitches or Quaffles or Snivellus falling in the Black Lake. He briefly wonders why he's doing this before Flitwick yells across the Hall.
"Quills down, please! That means you too, Stebbins!" James doesn't bother dropping his own quill; his exam is on the corner on his desk, far from the spare parchment he's scribbling on. "Please remain seated while I collect your parchment!" Flitwick continues. "Accio!"
James' exam along with a hundred others hurl into the air with such force that they knock the Charms Professor over. Peter laughs nervously behind him as Walter Abbott and two others helped Flitwick to his feet.
"Thank you... thank you," he breaths. "Very well, everybody, you're free to go!"
James quickly crosses out Evans' initials, hoping that no one around him had seen. Godric, what would he look like? Some lovesick bloke that was so pathetic he traced her name? It wasn't like he actuallycared after all...
He puts the paper and quill in his bag as he stands up, checking over his shoulder for Sirius. He isn't sure when it happened, but James is suddenly very aware of how he expects the Marauders to come to him and not the other way around. He has always been aware of his status as a leader, but the thought of being the center of the Marauders is slightly unsettling.
Sure enough, Remus, Sirius, and Peter all surround him within the minute, putting away their own question sheets and quills. Mary McDonald and a few other girls walk ahead of them, but they are careful to give the boys their space as they exchange their worries over answers. James shares a look with Sirius; Mary was staring at Sirius during the entire exam, and, judging by the wink he gives her in passing, he is well-aware of that fact.
"Did you like question ten, Moony?" Sirius asks jokingly.
"Loved it," answers Remus. "'Give five signs that identify the werewolf.' Excellent question."
James wonders briefly if they ought to be joking about this sort of thing in public, but he can't help himself. "D'you think you managed to get all the signs?"
"Think I did. One: He's sitting in my chair. Two: He's wearing my clothes. Three: His name's Remus Lupin..."
Three of them roar with laughter, enough to make the girls in front of them turn, but Peter's slightly squeakier laugh is conspicuously absent.
"I got the snout shape," he states so worriedly that James is surprised he isn't wringing his hands, "the pupils of the eyes, and the tufted tail, but I couldn't think what else-"
"How thick are you, Wormtail?" James mocks, rolling his eyes. The Marauders walk out of the Entrance Hall doors, the sunshine being a relief after crouching over exams for the past two hours. "You run round with a werewolf once a month-"
"Keep your voice down," Remus demands. James quickly checks to make sure that the girls didn't hear anything, but Lily Evans has joined their group and they are distracted, all of them trying to reassure her that she most certainly did not fail. James is transfixed by the sight of Evans almost in tears; his hand itches to touch her.
Sirius' voice is loud enough to break his haze. "Well, I thought the paper was a piece of cake. I'll be surprised if I don't get an Outstanding on it at least."
"Me too," James says truthfully. He pulls the Snitch he stole from Hooch's office yesterday from his pocket, hoping Evans might turn and notice.
"Where'd you get that?" Sirius asks, almost as if on cue.
"Nicked it," he answers, but Evans is too busy ranting to be impressed by his words. James starts playing a familiar game, letting the Snitch fly away until the last second, but only Peter is watching. The group of girls drift off towards the Lake, and James can't resist following them.
The Marauders collapse near the beech tree by the Lake, the now giggling girls not too far away. James lets the Snitch go almost beyond reach, but catches it at the last second. Peter claps his hands, making James grin. He ruffles his hair, checking to see if the girls were looking, but to no success. Dorcas is apparently telling them all a very entertaining story about McGonagall (James can tell because she has drawn her hair up in a very tight bun and is looking at Marlene as if she has a Bowstruckle up her arse). He isn't focusing but catches the Snitch on reflex. Peter yells in awe.
"Put that away, will you? Before Wormtail wets himself from excitement," Sirius requests.
James shoves the Snitch back in his pocket nonchalantly. "If it bothers you," he shrugs.
"I'm bored. Wish it was a full moon." Sirius is surveying the grounds, his eyes lingering on Dorcas Meadowes' half-unbuttoned blouse.
Remus is reading their Transfiguration textbook, something that James just now notices. "You might," he says, and James wonders what has his knickers in a twist. It isn't as if he doesn't joke about being a werewolf as much as the rest of them do. "We've still got Transfiguration, if you're bored you could test me... Here," he offers, holding out the book.
Sirius snorts, waving his hand. "I don't need to look at that rubbish, I know it all." James is inclined to agree. He is about to suggest that Peter quiz him when he sees a figure in the bushes to the left of them.
"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," James half-whispers. He jerks his head over to the bushes. "Look who it is..."
Sirius turns as Snape stands up, and James can sense, rather than see, his mate's eager expression.
"Excellent. Snivellus."
James and Sirius look at each other briefly before rising, both drawing their wands. Remus remains sitting, pretending not to notice their 'behavior', which is just fine with James anyway- more fun for him and Sirius. He's sure that Peter is watching avidly, as always, but he doesn't bother to check. It isn't necessary.
"All right, Snivellus?" calls James, loud enough that plenty of his classmates turned. They want to see Snape's latest humiliation, and James is only too happy to oblige.
He cannot think about that for more than a moment, however. The past year has trained Snape to react quickly, but he's no match for James when he already has his wand out. It's almost slow motion for him- Snape's wand appearing from his pocket, rising to aim at James' face...
"Expelliarmus!"
Snivellus' wand flies out of his hand; Sirius laughs loudly just as it lands in the grass.
"Impedimenta!" Snape is knocked aside by Sirius' spell, and James looks up to see students slowly gathering around the spectacle. He unconsciously runs a hand through his hair as the two walk towards Snape with their wands raised. James checks to see if the girls are looking and feels a thrill run through him as Alice points him out.
"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" James asks, glad that he's finally got their attention.
"I was watching him," Sirius supplies. "His nose was touching the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word." The crowd laughed, and James felt the warmth in his chest that came whenever he is at the center of attention.
"You- wait... you-wait..." Snape stutters, trying to glare at James, but he feels less intimidated than ever.
"Wait for what?" Sirius is quick to come to James' aid, though he doesn't need it. "What're you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"
Snape suddenly breaks, squirming as he tries to throw the jinx off of him, all the while swearing and screaming hexes. James' eyes are immediately drawn to Snape's wand, which is still more than a safe distance away. He is about to go pick it up when he caught one of Snape's mutterings.
"...bloody fuckers.Anclavinus-"
James recognizes the spell. His father has told him of the Aurors found with their nails ripped out. It's Dark Magic, and it causes James' stomach to turn. "Wash out your mouth," he says, the venom in his voice far from disguised. "Scourgify!"
The bubbles pour out of Snape's mouth, as if he's vomiting them, and James can't believe that anybody that Evans hangs around with is so disgusting.
"Leave him ALONE!"
Speak of the devil...
James hurriedly messes up his hair again as he turns around. It's Lily- it's Evans, it's Evans.
"All right, Evans?" he says, making sure that his voice is deeper than normal. Sirius will give him shit for this later, but right now he can't bring himself to give a damn what Sirius thinks.
"Leave him alone," Evans says, apparently unimpressed with everything before her. "What's he done to you?"
There is a part of James that knows that Evans will not like his answer, but that part is rarely in control. He couldn't just back off Snivellus now, not even if he wanted to. There are people watching, and he isn't about to let Evans have the upper hand.
"Well, it's more the fact that he exists, if you know what I mean..."
The crowd laughs, but Lily- Evans- keeps the same disapproving expression.
"You think you're funny, but you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter," she retorts. "Leave him alone."
"I will if you go out with me, Evans." James will wince about the desperation of his words later, but right now he has a chance, a card to play, and he isn't about to let it go. "Go on... Go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again." He can tell Sirius is trying to figure out if he's lying by the way he leans forward to get a better look at his face. James hopes his expression doesn't betray his intentions.
"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," Lily says quickly. James grits his teeth, the familiar sinking feeling in his gut returning.
"Bad luck, Prongs," Sirius says, clapping him on the shoulder. "OY!"
There is a sudden flash of white light and James feels a flaring pain. Blood seeps down from his cheek, staining his robes with a surprising amount of scarlet, but he doesn't pause to heal it. He turns, and there is another flash of light. Snape is hanging upside down in midair.
Most of the people watching laugh, and James even notices Lily's expression change for a brief moment. A few Hufflepuffs from the edge of the Lake have scurried over to join the group, and James knows that he has chosen his spell much wiser than Snape. The gash on his cheek is a physical injury, a mark of the morality that Snivellus is so willing to break; humiliation is longer lasting at Hogwarts.
"Let him down!" Lily yells, her anger quickly returning. James notices how pretty she looks, even when she's angry, and he's again marveled that she's friends with a git like Snape.
"Certainly," he says collectively, flicking his wand. Snape falls to the ground instantly; he is barely upright again before Sirius casts a Leg-Locker Curse on him.
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily has her wand out now. James' eyes lock on the tip of it before studying her face. It crosses his mind that she's bluffing, but his instinct dissuades the notion almost immediately. Snivellus is her friend, however much James wants to deny it, and he doesn't doubt Lily's loyalty in the slightest. He knows the look in Lily's eyes, because it's the same look he sees in Sirius', Remus', or Peter's when he's threatened, and because his eyes have held that ferocity as well. It's the look of a friend defending another friend, and James' chest has a painful twinge.
He can tell Sirius is looking at him for action. Sirius thrives on conflict, much like James, but unlike him he has no problem dueling this girl. James knows that neither one of them wants to be in a fight the other one isn't comfortable with.
James blows off the seriousness of the situation. "Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you."
"Take the curse off him, then!" shouts Lily.
He sighs exasperatedly, turning to Snape and muttering the countercurse. "There you go," says James in a mocking tone. Snape is finally able to rise to his feet again without being knocked down. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-"
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"
James' blood instantly boils, and he can feel the other Marauders tense around him. How dare he talk to her like that, how dare he say that to her? He's supposed to be her friend, and James cannot think of a filthier word. His brain is clouded by rage.
"Fine." Lily's voice is cool and collected, and James has seen her brush off a dozen similar comments from Slytherins. But Snape is her friend. She is more hurt than she seems. "I won't bother in the future-" James hears the brief hiccup in her voice- "And I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus."
It isn't enough. "Apologize to Evans!" he demands, aiming his wand at Snape, whose wand is far from dueling height.
"I don't want you to make him apologize," yells Lily furiously, as if he were the one that had insulted her. "You're as bad as he is..."
"What?" James shouts, aghast that she would even compare them. "I'd NEVER call you a- you-know-what!" He can't believe how quickly the tables have turned, that she is more comfortable shouting at him than Snivellus. She's conveniently forgotten that he doesn't use Dark Magic, and he doesn't hang out with future Death Eaters. Sides were drawn long ago, and, even though she is only now seeing that, he is shocked that she is yelling at him when all Snape gets was a cold comment.
Blood rushes to Lily's face, contrasting horribly with her hair, as she places her hands on her hips and glares. "Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch-" (so she did notice)- "walking down the corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can-" (James wants to point out that it isn't just because he can, it's because, as she herself noted, they annoyed him, but she continues to rant)"-I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK." Lily stalks away towards the castle, anger practically radiating off her.
"Evans! Hey, EVANS!" James isn't surprised when she doesn't bother to look back. "What is it with her?" he asks Sirius as casually as possible, pretending that his blood isn't racing.
"Reading between the lines," Sirius says, in a tone that can only mean his comment will be painfully sardonic, "I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate."
"Right... right..." James is positively fuming now. When will he ever be good enough? Godric, Evans could be a right bint. Did she just get off by rejecting him in every way humanly possible? And what was with that fucking speech?
He suddenly realizes he is still watching her walk away.
James woke up with a start. He could make out the scarlet curtains, so the sun must have risen, but his body ached with too little sleep. Footsteps were scurrying around the room, and the faint buzz of whispers could be heard, so it must've been at least six.
He rolled over, reaching through the red fabric for his glasses. His fingers ran over the cool glass, grasping the frames once he was sure it wasn't any of the other items on his bedside table. The dim dormitory came into focus when he put them on; he wrenched his eyelids apart, feeling the undeniable knowledge of his inability to go back to sleep run through him. His dream was still firmly placed in the forefront of his brain, and lying in bed would only force him to ponder that moment.
He swung his feet out of bed, the cold stone floor draining any lethargy that remained. Frank and Gideon were tying their shoes at the other end of the room. Both looked up suddenly when James kicked open his trunk.
"James," Gideon said with furrowed eyebrows. "Did we wake you?" James understood the confusion; he was an extremely deep sleeper, having slept through games of Exploding Snap, Sonorus Charms, and even Sirius jumping on his bed.
"Nah," James answered. "Weird dreams." He noticed the way that Frank was staring determinedly at his own trainers. He'd been avoiding James ever since he hadn't selected him for Chaser. James had never thought of him as a sore loser, but he'd apparently been wrong.
A grunt came from Remus' bed, and they took that as a warning to dress in silence. Frank left the room first, his gaze straight-forward. He didn't even bother to shut the door behind him. Gideon and James exchanged a meaningful look and shrugged before they left the room, James still struggling to put on his robe.
"You're never up this early, unless it's for Quidditch," Gideon said as they descended the stairs. "I don't think I've ever seen you at breakfast since third year."
James shrugged. "Breakfast isn't exactly my favorite meal. They should have it later in the day."
"If they did, that would be early and now would be very late," Gideon said. "It's all a matter of perspective."
"Profound," James said dryly. The pair crossed the Common Room, the fireplace still glowing with embers, parchment scattered across the floor, an empty board of Wizard's Chess... Gryffindor had been up late last night, but the Marauders had outdone all of them. James checked his watch- he'd been asleep barely two hours.
"You and the Marauders up late last night?" Gideon asked as they passed the noticeboard. James automatically checked the flyer for a missing Nimbus 1700, to see if there was any information written down on it, but it was blank, as it had been for the past month. He couldn't bring himself to place an order in for a new broom, though he also shuddered at the thought of using one of the school's in an actual match. His teammates weren't about to tell their captain to get a move on, but he could see the skepticism in their eyes whenever he walked onto the pitch with a Swiftstick, made in the 1950's. James thought he could probably make do with the broom if it wasn't for its complete inability to ascend at a reasonable speed.
Gideon noticed him looking. "It's not gonna turn up, James. It's been a month."
James' shoulders sagged. "Maybe." He knew Gideon was rolling his eyes, but Quidditch was just a sport for him. It was more for James.
"Come on, I'm starving."
The two walked through the Fat Lady and down to the Great Hall, discussing Quidditch and Frank's newfound grudge. The Hall itself was rather empty, with less than twenty people silently chewing their meals. Some were leaned over books, maybe pulling all-nighters for some exam they were doomed to fail, but most were staring at their plates, half-asleep. James felt like joining the latter group when he noticed several Slytherins looking his way.
It was Avery and Mulciber's crowd, of course. They were glaring across the table, visibly sizing James and Gideon up. Only Flitwick was supervising breakfast this early, but James didn't know if it mattered or not. If they were willing to torture him and attempt to kill Maddie Brookings, then were school rules and the threat of detentions and house points relevant?
He'd had fourteen class periods with the Slytherins so far, and every one of them had been prefaced by tension-filled glances and hands itching for wands. James knew that if one group even jostled the other upon leaving a classroom, the thin wires holding everyone back would snap. He was determined not to strike first, so as not to break his promise of no revenge, but occasionally the image of Maddie's broken body or the agony of Cruciatus flashed through him, and he felt sick for inaction. Sick for allowing these people to walk the same halls that Angela, Gideon, and Lily did.
Gideon looked to see what James was so fixated on, and his half-smile fell as soon as he saw the Slytherins. "Come on, James. They're not even worth it."
James didn't move. It was as if they were daring him to stand his ground, to look away. They couldn't know that he occasionally had nightmares about that night. I'm not scared, James thought. I'm not scared of you fuckers. Come and get it.
As if they'd heard him, Yaxley and two others stood up, pulling their wands from their robes, mouths open- James plunged his hand into his pocket, grasping his wand, acting on pure instinct as he felt Gideon do the same beside him-
There was a roar of feet on stone. Forks clattering on wooden tables and glass plates. Swishes of robes. Spilling of goblets. The sound of fabric brushing against itself. James turned; half the students in the hall had stood up, wands raised, pointed across the tables at the group of Slytherins.
"Do it, Avery," a third year Hufflepuff yelled, oatmeal trickling down his chin. "I dare you."
"Yeah, go for it, you lot!"
"You mess with Maddie, you mess with all of us!"
"We've got you by the balls, Mulciber."
"FUCK YOU!" screamed Claire Davens.
James smirked. He had the upperhand, a position he was used to, and he couldn't help but relish it for a moment. "Well, Avery, Mulciber, Yaxley, the rest of you... I see you pulled your wands out in the Great Hall, which is against school rules. Detention for the next two weeks. Hagrid's told me the Giant Squid needs its tentacles cleaned."
Mulciber looked at Avery for direction, but his eyes were fixed on James. He left the Slytherin table, the others following him, and whispered to him in passing, "We'll wait until you don't have your darling posse to protect you. Then we'll see what you're made of."
And then they left, James' eyes glued to back of their heads until the doors closed behind them. He turned back up to the front, addressing Professor Flitwick, who was taking a particularly long drink of pumpkin juice.
"I didn't see anything, Professor," James said, ushering the students around him to drop their wands.
"Nor did I," Flitwick answered. "Is there any reason yourself and Mr. Prewett are standing in front of the doorway? Perhaps you'd like to join your house for breakfast."
The Question Game between James and Lily had temporarily stopped any hostility during their rounds. He was not sure how long this would go on, but the game was likely to last longer now that they had played it several times. The problem with the Question Game was that, while it was fairly easy to obtain a point or two within the first two rounds, opponents would become more open after. Lily had already told him when she first had her period; why shouldn't she reveal her most embarrassing moment (which turned out to be her Ancient Ruins professor revealing in front of the entire class that she had forgotten to turn in an essay)?
James didn't mind. It meant that no victory was in sight (4-2, in his favor), but it also meant that he had a reason to talk to her. He had a reason to ask her questions, things about her and not just "Did Slughorn cancel class?", "Have you seen a Snitch around here?" or "Do you just like to ruin everyone's day?" He asked questions that centered around her opinions and her life. It was far from a clever ruse; he could tell Lily knew exactly what he was up to. All the same, she played along, answering conversational questions and asking similar ones.
"Death by heat or cold?"
"Cold. I'd at least suffer from euphoria before I died," Lily said, checking a broom closet. "Same question."
"Heat," James replied easily. "I'd probably die naked."
Lily rolled her eyes, but he saw the half-concealed smile. She closed the broom closet door too hard, and there was a clash of mops and other cleaning supplies crashing against the walls. The pair looked at each other, Lily smiling guiltily. "Whoops." She opened the door again, two mops and various bottles landing on the floor. James waved his wand, and they all went back to their proper place.
"I wouldn't imagine that James Potter would know any cleaning spells," Lily jibed.
"Don't tell anyone. I've got a reputation to protect."
"What was your favorite childhood toy?"
"A broomstick," James said evenly.
"Obviously."
"Are you close with your dad?"
Lily glanced briefly at him before answering, perhaps surprised at the sudden serious question. "Yeah, decently so. I can talk to him more than Petunia can. He doesn't really get out much, and I... Well, I admire him. He's very capable."
James nodded, thinking about how his own father was nearing the opposite.
"How about you? You close with your dad?"
"Yeah," he said simply. "We're a lot alike. But it's been hard lately."
She seemed satisfied with that answer; she probably thought it had to do with his mother's death, not the slow decay of his father's brain.
"What's your full name?" James said, steering the conversation away from that night. He hadn't checked one classroom during patrols thus far, but Lily wasn't about to berate him. It was just past the fourth years' curfew on a Wednesday night, so it wasn't worth the risk for any of the younger students. The most trouble they'd get that night was some students sneaking to the kitchens, unless DEWBs were to come out later. James remembered Avery's threat of finding him without help, and he can't imagine that Lily would be spared if they found him during rounds. He wrapped his fingers around his wand in his pocket, feeling momentarily tense, before he reminded himself of the hour. All the same...
James checked the next classroom just as Lily responded.
"Lily Anne Evans. You?"
"James Harold Potter VII."
"You're joking."
"Nope. My family's not known for our creativity with names."
"Mine either! We name all the girls after flowers!" Lily complained.
"Do you not like your name?"
"No, I guess it's fine, it's just so cliche..." she sighed. "What about you?"
"I like 'Lily,'" James said, focusing on how the two syllables felt on his tongue.
"No! I mean do you like your name."
"Oh. Yeah, I think it fits me. Regal and the like- Seriously, do you just continuously roll your eyes during conversation? Is that supposed to be an endearing quirk?" He felt at ease again, thoughts of DEWBS and danger barely clinging to the back of his mind.
Lily turned her head to face him, her cheeks slightly red at being caught. "Maybe if you weren't so arrogant, my eyes could stay in place."
James didn't respond. He could only think about how "arrogant" hadn't come out as contemptuous, insulting, or with hatred. It was playful, joking, a jibe between...
Heads. A jibe between Heads, James.
He couldn't help it. James watched Lily checking most of the classrooms, himself opting to follow suit for the rest of patrols, feeling a shock sink deep into his chest and expanding across his shoulders as he observed the long strands of red or the occasional grin that was becoming less and less occasional and more and more frequent. He was beginning to realize that this Question Game might establish more than a truce. Because Lily was acting differently- she really was. He wasn't just telling himself that, because she said hi to him in almost every class now and even asked for his help on Transfiguration yesterday. She had triple-checked that he was coming to patrols that day, and now that Amos was out of the picture...
This was the year, James knew. This was the year.