Plot: The infamous Marauders weren't alone in their love for pranking. In fact, they often had their butts kicked by a bunch of girls. Now, this is it. Seventh year. Four girls, four boys. Two opposing pranking teams. One hell of a battle to be won.
Disclaimer: Sad as it may be, I am not J.K. Rowling in disguise, and therefore I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or themes involved. (I do, however, own Jamie, Hannah and Regan and most elements of this specific plot—so I'd appreciate it if no poaching occurred. Thanks.)
WARNING (please read): This is the unedited version, meaning I wrote it a few years ago when my skill level sucked and I had no idea how to properly structure a story. So if you'll please ignore the terrible grammar, dodgy sentence structure, OOC-ness, plot holes, canonical inconsistencies and general immaturity of this whole chapter while I plough my way through all this editing work, that would be greatly appreciated. :) I'm in the process of fixing up all the chapters right now, but you'll have to be patient, because (as you can probably tell just by reading a couple of sentences below) fixing this stuff up takes a lot of time and effort.
Chapter 7 – Bombs Away (Part 1)
Several days passed without any disturbance from the Marauders, so the Rogues were generally left to their own devices – this excluded the occasional malevolent glance in their direction and a few randomly extended feet for Hannah to trip over (courtesy of Sirius) whenever the groups passed each other in the corridors. In fact, it wasn't until the day before the first planned trip to Hogsmeade that the Marauders began to show signs of their previous hostility.
Lily guessed that much of their previous distance had been caused by Sirius and Hannah's brawl. Usually, the two of them would quickly have gotten over it, and by now Hannah would be talking of nothing but spiteful ways of getting her revenge on 'the blathering troll' (a little nickname she had fashioned for Sirius, helping her to release her anger mostly because of the fact that it - or at least the second word – was a complete contradiction of the obvious truth that he was so adamant about rubbing in). However, since the argument before Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hannah had been surprisingly reserved, and spoke very little, a dark and thoughtful expression on her face for the most part. To Lily and the others, this was a blatant sign that something was wrong – and after a whole day with not a word from Hannah, they had started interrogating her about her behaviour. But she insisted that it was nothing at all, and that she was just concentrating really hard on her studies (this, of course, was an instant giveaway). Regan, however, was convinced she was suffering from a bad case of PMS.
In the time leading up to the Hogsmeade trip, the glares from the Marauders became more frequent, and the girls were often finding pranks left in their beds. Some were rather fickle – exploding rubber rats, fake spiders bewitched so that they scuttled across the sheets – and some not so pathetic – for example, in Regan's case, a whole pile of Flobberworms that required half an hour of charming to remove from her bedspread. But as they had grown used to the inconveniences caused by their feud, it wasn't a terribly difficult feat when they tried to act as though it didn't bother them whenever they were in the presence of the boys. Defense Against the Dark Arts, too, had proven to be quite a problem; Professor Marsh was evidently quite annoyed with the constant breakout of arguments between the Marauders and the Rogues.
But another more pressing matter currently had much of the girls' attention reserved. This matter went by the name of Jamie. Their friend had lately been in a somewhat frantic, even distraught state. The cause of this was, undoubtedly, her upcoming date with Frank Longbottom. Judging by her constant jitters, this concept was making her either over the moon or extremely nervous – the latter of these two being the most likely. By the way she was acting, Frank might as well have been a huge dragon intent on blowing her brains out. Lily remembered the morning of their first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, when all the students had trudged out of the classroom and Jamie had sprinted up to the other three looking as though she'd just guzzled a galleon of extra-strong coffee.
"Are you on something?" had been Regan's immediate response, complete with a raised eyebrows.
Jamie had given a nervous smile and squeaked: "I said yes."
After much calming from her friends, she had proceeded to explain her conversation with Frank, his innocent inquiry for her answer and the spur-of-the-moment reply she had given. Had she rejected him, Jamie told them, she would have resented herself forever. But, as Hannah never ceased to remind her, 'If you don't like him, what's the point?'
On the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, Jamie spent at least thirty minutes fussing over her hair and clothes, preparing for the date which was to take place at the Three Broomsticks that day. Having finally settled on a pale yellow cardigan over a fitted lavender shirt with a a a pair of jeans, and having pulled her hair into an extensive braid (this reminded Lily of a princess in one of the Muggle fairytales she had read as a young girl), she came to Lily for a final opinion.
"Are you sure I look okay?" she asked, her voice feeble and high-pitched.
"Jamie, you look great!" Lily assured her. "Since when do you have to worry about your appearance?" Jamie blushed.
"Besides," Hannah chipped in. She and Regan were sprawled out on one of the beds, tossing Every-Flavoured Beans into each others' mouths. "What does it matter if you don't even like the guy?"
"I don't know!" Jamie wailed, sitting down on the comforter and burying her face in her hands. "I don't know if I like him or not!"
Regan scoffed. "This is Frank Longbottom we're talking about." Hannah laughed, but Lily sat, quiet and thoughtful, at Jamie's side. Frank, although known to be a little nerdy, was a nice guy – and it wasn't as though he was bad looking. However, she had to agree with Regan on some level; not because she had anything against Frank, but simply because she knew Jamie well enough to work out whether or not she liked a guy – and in this case, she was fairly certain that the answer was no.
"It doesn't sound as though you're very interested," Lily told her truthfully. "Not to be rude or anything."
"Oh, what am I doing?" Jamie was starting to sound frustrated, as opposed to hysterical.
"As Trelawney would say, you are butchering the realms of your future." Regan said without tone, quoting the bat-like Divination teacher that had taught them in third year (all four had quickly dropped the subject after this).
"That doesn't even make sense." Hannah told her with raised eyebrows.
"I know." Regan shrugged, and threw a bean at Hannah's face.
"Please don't make me go in there."
The Rogues were standing outside the door to The Three Broomsticks, and Jamie had frozen in her tracks a few paces away from the entrance. It was comical; the way that Lily, Hannah and Regan put their hands on their hips almost simultaneously. Jamie almost laughed, but she could tell by the stubborn look on each of their faces that they had no intention of letting her go easily.
"You got yourself into this, now deal with it!" Hannah said sharply, before giving her a swift shove through the door, held open by a smug-looking Lily.
"Now that we've gotten rid of her," Lily joked, when only she, Hannah and Regan remained outside. "Where to?"
"The nearest window, of course!" Regan gave them a wink and skipped off around the corner. Lily and Hannah exchanged impish grins and followed.
Jamie was suddenly engulfed in a haze of warm air that was thick with a number of smells, ranging from sweet to musty. The pub was filled with a dim orange light that, although faint, somehow seemed to illuminate the entire room. Jamie glanced around at the numerous round tables, and spotted Frank sitting at one against the side wall. When he grinned at her and waved jovially, she returned the gesture with a nervous laugh and a small wave that looked more like a meek flick of the hand.
I have no reason to be nervous, Jamie reminded herself. I've done this plenty of times before. And it was true; Jamie had dated several boys over her years at Hogwarts, and her unease had seemed to decrease every time. But for some reason, it felt different this time. She supposed that the reason for this might be that she was unsure whether or not she really wanted to be here in the first place. In a way, part of her fear was of disappointing him or hurting his feelings. And then, of course, there was the concept of making a fool of herself.
"Hi, Jamie," Frank said, still beaming as she approached the table. "This is for you." he drew a small, pink flower from his pocket and held it out for her. Jamie's heart skipped a beat as she took it gingerly from his hand.
"Thanks. I um..." she started, but quickly decided that it would be best if she didn't mention her forgetting to get him anything. "Never mind." Surprisingly, his smile remained undisturbed.
Frank rose from his seat and pulled out the opposite chair for her. Jamie thanked him and sat down, feeling more awkward by the minute. But had she even been in the room for a minute? It seemed like twenty.
"I hope you're alright with the location." Frank hurried to say after a moment of silence. "I would have taken you elsewhere, but all the tables tend to be full on the first Hogsmeade trip of the year."
"No, not at all."
"So how's your term been so far?"
"Well, no bad," had her face not been frozen, Jamie would have scowled bitterly at the thought of the great disturbances the Marauders had been causing so far. Instead, she managed to say: "And you?"
"Quite good. But the homework load – now that's got me tied down," she was rather shocked at his ability to converse so smoothly with her. "But you wouldn't have any trouble getting through it, I'll bet."
"Don't be so sure," she tried to smile.
They lapsed back into silence, and soon enough, a female bartender waltzed up to them. "What will it be, darlings?" she asked in a sweet, syrupy tone.
"We'll take two Butterbeers. If that's alright with you?" Frank shot Jamie a questioning glance. She nodded, and the bartender trotted off, returning a moment later with their drinks. Jamie sipped eagerly at hers; she would have been quite satisfied with any beverage – all she really wanted was something to distract her from the uncomfortable atmosphere and an excuse not to talk. Unfortunately, the benefits of the Butterbeer didn't last long.
"So you're a Prefect, huh?"
"Yup."
"Personally, I thought you would have been made Head Girl."
"So did I," this answer was almost automatic, and Jamie corrected her mistake as fast as she could. "Sorry," she said. "I mean, I'm not being vain or anything, but I did have my hopes up." Frank merely laughed. She was starting to wonder if the grin had disappeared from his face even once since she had arrived.
"Who are you paired with, then? Lupin, is it?"
"As Prefect? Yes." she responded, wondering if the hint of jealousy she had detected really was there in his voice. Her stomach turned a little at the thought of it.
"Of all the-" Jamie had a feeling he was about to make reference to the legendary battle between the Marauders and the Rogues, and the peculiar pairing of authoritative positions, but he stopped. To her surprise, he sniffed. "Do you smell that?"
"Smell what?" but her question didn't need answering; the moment she breathed in, her nostrils were filled with the most revolting, putrid smell she had ever scented. "Yuck!" she exclaimed, putting a hand over her nose.
Then it all happened very quickly; a dirty brown fog began to fill the pub, people were standing up and exchanging astounded comments and exclamations, a number of small, round objects were pelted in from an area near the door, the door opened and closed suddenly even though there wasn't a single person within three metres of it, and through a quick train of thoughts, Jamie had a fair idea what was going on.
"Those idiot Marauders!" she cried in frustration, standing up. It was lucky that people were already screaming and shouting, because if not, the sheer volume of Jamie's voice – usually small and timid – would have disturbed every person in the bar. For the first time that morning, Frank's smile vanished and was replaced by an expression of concern.
"What?" he said.
"I'm so sorry, Frank," she said apologetically, pushing in her chair. "I've had a really great time. It's just that there's... well, something I have to tend to. I'll see you."
And with that, Jamie was out the door before the poor boy even had a chance to respond. Outside the bar, she sighed heavily and turned to look for the others, cursing the Marauders silently and kicking herself all the while for leaving Frank in there, all alone. She felt like an idiot, but she couldn't do anything about it. For now, she had to first find her friends, and then chase up the Marauders.
A/N: Once again, comments and guidance (in the form of reviews, of course) would be greatly appreciated. (EDIT: Especially now, when I'm in the process of fixing up these earlier chapters. If there's anything you'd like me to change, or some problem you've noticed that I may not have picked up on, now's your time to say something about it.)