James cast the monitoring spell on his classroom just as the door closed behind the last of the third year Ravenclaws, his last students before the weekend. The spell had become a habit of his and worked much like muggle security cameras in that it recorded everything taking place in the spelled area from the time it was cast until it was disabled. The spell was especially invaluable at Hogwarts, for it showed him exactly who was doing what in his classroom while it was supposed to be empty.
He was just picking up the students' latest assignments to bring to Severus when the door burst open and Neville stormed in, Ron on his heels. Wyn looked up from her perch atop James's desk and watched the two Gryffindors with suspicion. She liked Hermione well enough but these two irked her due to their unfounded hatred towards James, and she'd never trusted them as a result. James merely stared at the pair expectantly, placing the scrolls back on his desk.
"Professor Evans, you can't expect me to come for a lesson this Wednesday!"
"Really? Because I'm under the distinct impression that I can," James's voice was as cool as his gaze as he spoke to his student.
"But you really can't!" Neville burst out, clearly frustrated.
"And why should it matter on way or another?"
"Because this Wednesday is the Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch match!"
"Yes, well believe it or not I'm aware of such things. Notice that our session is scheduled for when the match is over, even allowing an hour in case it runs long." James rose his eyebrows at his student, wondering about Neville's intelligence.
"But Professor, the after party!"
James stared at him incredulously. "Longbottom, I think you are mistaken on several points, therefore allow me to make myself perfectly clear. First, I have allowed you leeway for the match despite the fact that our session will have to be cut short because of it. Secondly, I believe you are forgetting that our sessions are meant to save your life, and that without them you are sure to be the first to fall due to your lack of training."
James paused significantly at this point, giving the boy a long look. "Thirdly, you seem to believe that I care about your life in any capacity more than as your teacher. And lastly I'm insulted at your continued disrespect for my position as your professor. I am your professor and when I schedule a session it is not up to you, or any of your peers," he said with a dark look at Ron, who had opened his mouth as if to protest, "to question my actions."
With that James picked up his pile of scrolls, bent down for Wyn to climb up on his shoulders, and swept from the room, the door swinging closed behind him. He walked down the hall quickly and took the Grand Staircase down to the dungeons. Once upon it, he said the password to the blank stretch of wall that served as entrance to Snape's quarters. Walking inside he found it empty, and therefore merely left the scrolls on the man's desk for him to find.
After depositing his armful James spun around and promptly left, heading in the direction of his own quarters. He entered and immediately headed for his bedroom, placing Wyn gently on the bed as the door swung shut behind him.
"What has you in such a bother?" Wyn asked. Usually James simply didn't care enough about others to let their actions bother him.
"I've gotten too serious since I've been cooped up here, I'm going out tonight."
Wyn just looked at him for a moment. "You've left this place every chance you've gotten, how is that called being 'cooped up'?"
"It doesn't matter, I'm going out. If you need anything go to Hermione or Draco, I'm almost positive they'll be in the library."
The little dragon snorted and settled into the plush comforter covering James's bed, watching with disinterest as he donned a loose dress shirt and slacks. She watched him leave before she ventured into the sitting room to wait for the blonde, wondering how she could make him take her to Marvolo.
The music beat through the club, the same one in which Dumbledore had found him a month before. James moved to the music, reveling in the press of bodies against his. When an arm snaked out and wrapped around his waist he leaned back into the person, making himself comfortable against the man's hard chest. It wasn't until he noticed he'd was being dragged off the dance floor that James bothered to open his eyes. He realized he was getting dragged to the VIP rooms from a brief glimpse of the bouncer and the way the sound faded.
"Very compliant, aren't you?" asked a deep voice as James allowed himself to be steered into a room.
"Only with you, love."
"Am I?"
"Are you what?" James asked playfully as the man sat, pulling James into his lap.
"Am I your love?"
James tensed and the man sighed. "You're bound to admit it eventually."
A grunt was the only answer he got.
They sat there for long moments, the man softly kissing the side of James's neck.
"Marvolo, why am I teaching?"
"Because you needed an excuse to get near Longbottom."
"But I hate children, and I'm getting restless from being stuck in the castle."
"I know, why do you think I'm here?"
James turned to look Marvolo in the face, his torso twisting with the movement. "I need a break."
"I know, that's why you're here," Marvolo pointed out, amused.
James nodded and snuggled into Marvolo's chest, resting his head beneath the other man's chin.
"You're so subdued when you've had too much to drink."
James hummed as gentle hands stroked his back.
It was an indeterminate time later that James's head snapped up and leaned back to look Marvolo in the eyes.
"I see the alcohol made it through your system."
James narrowed his eyes. "And if I wanted to be drunk and out of touch with reality?"
"Oh come now, we both know that isn't like you. Just be glad that I'm the one who found you and not some other random bloke."
James snorted and leaned back into Marvolo's chest. "You have such little faith in me? Of course I only let myself be led away because it was you. I was not so drunk as that."
Marvolo made a noncommittal noise in response, keeping his doubts on the subject to himself.
"I suppose Wyn ratted me out?" James asked.
"She wrote Draco a note. He was alarmed, to say the least."
Marvolo felt more than heard James's laughter and waited for it to abate. Once James calmed down one of his hands came up to play with Marvolo's hair, twirling the strands about his fingers.
"We need to deal with Longbottom quickly, I do not think I can stand him for much longer."
"How about Halloween? I believe there is a Hogsmeade Weekend scheduled for the day."
James sighed in a very put upon manner. "I supposed I can manage another month, but only if you help take my mind off things."
"Oh, don't worry about that," Marvolo purred. "I can think of some activities to keep your mind firmly elsewhere."
"Really?" James asked in mock surprise. "What might you have in mind." He stared up at Marvolo with wide eyes, the picture of innocence.
"Allow me to show you." Marvolo leaned forward, sealing their lips together.
"Ah! James, Professor Dumbledore request you in his office," came Macgonagall's imperious voice as he stepped into the Entrance Hall. Hiding his scowl, James nodded in agreement and never the less headed towards his own office and classroom, intent on what the monitoring spell had picked up.
The recorded images were, quite plainly, a gold mine and James walked into Dumbledore's office confidant and smirking, memory in hand.
"Good, good, I'm glad to see you," Dumbledore started off. "There is a matter which I need to speak to you about."
"I will not change my scheduled session from Wednesday night."
Dumbledore actually looked a bit startled that James already knew what he was going to ask. "Why ever not? I see no reason that it cannot be changed. One must enjoy the throws of youth."
"I will not change it. One should not humor a spoiled child so often."
"I believe that's a rather strong choice of words." Dumbledore frowned.
"You believe that it is not a sign of being spoiled when he immediately comes to you when I deny him something? I have to disagree. Also, he needs punishment. I would like to ask that he and Ronald Weasley be removed from the Quidditch match altogether."
Dumbledore sat back in astonishment. "Punishment? For what?"
James held out the memory and handed it to Dumbledore, knowing the man had a pensieve to view it with. "I came back to find my classroom destroyed, here is the proof."
The old man frowned and waved a hand towards a cabinet, the pensieve appearing from within and floating to the desk. He took the bottle and emptied the contents into it before lowering his face into the basin.
James sat as the headmaster entered the memory. The scene was aggravated and even he hadn't thought that Longbottom and Weasley would so thoroughly destroy his classroom. He had thought that they would hex teaching instruments and furniture, but the room had looked as if wild animals had rampaged through it. And here he had, so nicely presented to him by the surveillance spell, the physical proof of the perpetrators. He held back as sigh as Albus resurfaced, a thoughtful look on his old face.
"This is certainly troubling."
"Albus, this is beyond troubling. Longbottom and Weasley used my room as a demolition site."
"Yes, I can see that. However-"
"No, there is no excuse for this. They obviously acted in such a manner not intending on being caught. They destroyed my classroom and were willing to stand by and watch other be punished for their actions. I really must insist that they be removed from the match."
Dumbledore looked putout and practically sagged back in his chair. "Yes, I believe you are right."
James inwardly smirked at how easily he had managed to turn this situation to his liking. "And I request that they serve detention with Severus for the next week."
Dumbledore nodded in defeat, realizing that there was no way out of these punishments. At this sign of compliance James bid farewell and left, leaving the old man alone.
Albus sighed once his study was once again empty, wondering at the animosity present between James and Neville. Neville seemed to have an innate hatred of James, one that was quickly overshadowing his similar relationship with Severus. And he could not even fault James, for he treated all his students equally: he was not afraid to take points or assign detentions, no matter the house. The only ones spared seemed to be Miss Granger and young Mister Malfoy, who were as usual exemplary students this year.
Dumbledore sat in his chair mulling over these thoughts for a while to come, not even noticing the shift in the light coming in through his windows.
Neville read the notice on the common room wall numbly at first, and then a second time with disbelief. He was the captain, how could he not participate in the game! He stared at the notice with a sinking feeling, wondering if this was because he'd lost his temper after Professor Evans had left. He couldn't even remember most of what he had done, he'd been so angry. That was the only thing he could believe could result in this, the removal of both him and Ron from the game at such short notice.
He looked over at Ron whose face was white in shock. They looked at each other for a few minutes before Neville realized he'd overlooked what had come after their removal from the match. He read it and immediately thought that this couldn't get any worse. Not only were they out of the match with less than a week to prepare, but they had detention with Snape for a whole week!
"Maybe…maybe if we go and apologize and offer to fix his room he'll take it back," Ron suggested, breaking Neville from his thoughts.
He turned to look back at his red haired friend. "Yeah," he said with feeling, hope bubbling to the surface. If they were sincere and owned up to their actions then he ought to take back their punishments. "Yeah, let's go do that, Ron."
A/N: I'm sorry this took a little while, I just found this chapter really hard to write for some reason. Also, I now have my computer back, so things should speed up a bit. As always, thank you for the reviews and please leave me some new ones, I always appreciate you telling me your thoughts!