James Potter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alotofgood) wrote2011-07-10 09:44 pm
alotofgood) wrote2011-07-10 09:44 pm
Entry tags:
034. 3 november 1976. potions.
November 3, 1976 — morning
Hogwarts, Scotland
Potions Dungeon
When James wakes up on Monday morning, his very first thought hits him in a wave of elation and complete and utter petrification.
He has a date with Lily Evans.
An actual you-and-me-will-be-going-somewhere-remotely-romantic date.
A date that may or may not include a first kiss and living out some of his finest fantasies over the past year.
A date that would actually be spent with Lily Evans.
Merlin's bloody fucking beard.
He lies in bed for about ten minutes (or twenty) too long before Remus approaches him and asks, "Are you feeling all right, James?"
James grumbles something about stomach pains.
Or maybe a concussion.
It ends with, "I'm dying."
"Did the weekend's events hit you?"
James pulls his comforter over his head and groans. "I'm afraid I can't go to class this morning, Moony. Go on without me. Leave me to ... to rot in this bed."
To James' surprise, Remus doesn't, in fact, pull the blanket away from him and drag him out of bed like Sirius might have. Under his blanket-fort (now getting a little hot and stuffy), he can hear the sound of wooden legs being dragged across the floor.
James peeks over the edge of his blanket.
Remus is sitting by his bedside, perfectly prefecty — calm expression and all.
"... what are you doing?"
Remus shrugs. "Well, if you're not going to class because you're dying, Heaven Forbid I should leave my dying friend in his final moments alone."
"But. Class," James mumbles, almost unable to keep from smiling just a little. He knows how important Remus' perfect attendance is to him, though he honestly can't understand it.
Remus shrugs again. "I'll sit by your bedside until your very last breath," he says with a certain amount of exaggerated nobleness in his voice. "And then I'll go and tell Professor Dumbledore. Someone needs to let him know that one of Hogwarts' best students has just died, after all — especially before you start decomposing in our dorm room. Sirius will never stop complaining about the smell.
"And, of course, someone'll need to tell Lily Evans about how her date died just before they could go out. I expect she'll be rather disheartened to hear it."
"Shut up," James says, but now he laughs.
*
Tuesday goes just about as well as any Tuesday could.
Every class is spent in the company of his best mates, which helps him avoid constantly stealing glances over at Lily Evans and feeling a bit ill every time because she is so brilliant and he has no idea what he is going to do about the weekend. Every idea he comes up with sounds ridiculous and stupid and completely, completely uncool.
Sirius is no help at all, which doesn't exactly make things easier. He sports an increasingly short temper — his jokes are a little more snappish, a little more biting.
By the end of dinner, having spent the duration of it as the butt of many of Sirius' quips, Peter looks embarrassed and angry and almost like he is going to cry.
James tells Sirius to shut up in a none-too-pleased tone; and looking affronted, Sirius leaves the table to go sulk somewhere.
*
By Wednesday morning, James expects he will be able to face Potions class in his usual James Potter manner.
During breakfast, Remus assures him that everything will be all right so long as he stops looking like a fire-crab has crawled up robes, and Peter gives him a quick pat on the shoulder.
When he arrives at the door of the Potions dungeon, he isn't so sure (though he's finally got an idea of what they could do on their date). He can see Lily sitting at their usual table, all of her things already out.
Merlin's beard, when the hell did he become such a — he can't even come up with anything fitting for what he's being right now, he's so ashamed and petrified.
Right.
Be cool, Potter.
Be. Fucking. Cool.
He walks into the room and takes his usual seat, glancing at Lily only when he feels like there are no other preparations left to do.
Hogwarts, Scotland
Potions Dungeon
When James wakes up on Monday morning, his very first thought hits him in a wave of elation and complete and utter petrification.
He has a date with Lily Evans.
An actual you-and-me-will-be-going-somewhere-remotely-romantic date.
A date that may or may not include a first kiss and living out some of his finest fantasies over the past year.
A date that would actually be spent with Lily Evans.
Merlin's bloody fucking beard.
He lies in bed for about ten minutes (or twenty) too long before Remus approaches him and asks, "Are you feeling all right, James?"
James grumbles something about stomach pains.
Or maybe a concussion.
It ends with, "I'm dying."
"Did the weekend's events hit you?"
James pulls his comforter over his head and groans. "I'm afraid I can't go to class this morning, Moony. Go on without me. Leave me to ... to rot in this bed."
To James' surprise, Remus doesn't, in fact, pull the blanket away from him and drag him out of bed like Sirius might have. Under his blanket-fort (now getting a little hot and stuffy), he can hear the sound of wooden legs being dragged across the floor.
James peeks over the edge of his blanket.
Remus is sitting by his bedside, perfectly prefecty — calm expression and all.
"... what are you doing?"
Remus shrugs. "Well, if you're not going to class because you're dying, Heaven Forbid I should leave my dying friend in his final moments alone."
"But. Class," James mumbles, almost unable to keep from smiling just a little. He knows how important Remus' perfect attendance is to him, though he honestly can't understand it.
Remus shrugs again. "I'll sit by your bedside until your very last breath," he says with a certain amount of exaggerated nobleness in his voice. "And then I'll go and tell Professor Dumbledore. Someone needs to let him know that one of Hogwarts' best students has just died, after all — especially before you start decomposing in our dorm room. Sirius will never stop complaining about the smell.
"And, of course, someone'll need to tell Lily Evans about how her date died just before they could go out. I expect she'll be rather disheartened to hear it."
"Shut up," James says, but now he laughs.
*
Tuesday goes just about as well as any Tuesday could.
Every class is spent in the company of his best mates, which helps him avoid constantly stealing glances over at Lily Evans and feeling a bit ill every time because she is so brilliant and he has no idea what he is going to do about the weekend. Every idea he comes up with sounds ridiculous and stupid and completely, completely uncool.
Sirius is no help at all, which doesn't exactly make things easier. He sports an increasingly short temper — his jokes are a little more snappish, a little more biting.
By the end of dinner, having spent the duration of it as the butt of many of Sirius' quips, Peter looks embarrassed and angry and almost like he is going to cry.
James tells Sirius to shut up in a none-too-pleased tone; and looking affronted, Sirius leaves the table to go sulk somewhere.
*
By Wednesday morning, James expects he will be able to face Potions class in his usual James Potter manner.
During breakfast, Remus assures him that everything will be all right so long as he stops looking like a fire-crab has crawled up robes, and Peter gives him a quick pat on the shoulder.
When he arrives at the door of the Potions dungeon, he isn't so sure (though he's finally got an idea of what they could do on their date). He can see Lily sitting at their usual table, all of her things already out.
Merlin's beard, when the hell did he become such a — he can't even come up with anything fitting for what he's being right now, he's so ashamed and petrified.
Right.
Be cool, Potter.
Be. Fucking. Cool.
He walks into the room and takes his usual seat, glancing at Lily only when he feels like there are no other preparations left to do.
no subject
And, aside from a brief conversation on Sunday evening about carved vegetables ... they kind of haven't spoken since.
Which is weird, isn't it?
(He can't have abruptly and completely gone off her, can he?)
But she can't say she's ever seen him put that much effort into getting set up for a Potions class.
Or, for that matter, any class.
Very weird.
It's not until he glances over at her that all the pieces suddenly drop into place.
Oh, God, he's nervous.
(How sweet and adorable is that?)
She actually has to look away, just for a second, to hide her smile.
And then turns back to him, with a smile that's less amused and more friendly. (She hopes.)
"Hello, James."
no subject
He clears his throat and offers her a smile.
It actually manages to look right and not warbly like he feels.
"All right?"
no subject
Lily nods.
"It's been kind of a busy couple of days, hasn't it?"
no subject
"— yeah," he says, nodding.
Is he nodding too much?
Maybe he's nodding too much.
One nod.
Right.
"You know, post-Hallowe'en and all that."
no subject
Despite the fact that there's really nothing at all that Hallowe'en has to do with anything.
At all.
"Hallowe'en was fun, though.
"The feast and all."
no subject
And when James realizes this, he feels like a complete moron.
What the buggering hell did he say that for?
Honestly, one would think he's never talked to girls before in his life or something.
Sirius would laugh. In his head, Sirius is already laughing.
Quick, Potter.
Make Hallowe'en make sense.
"I heard Dumbledore kept his pumpkin," James says.
Right.
Just stop talking.
"All right, then, class!" Slughorn breezes into the room.
(Or, well, breezes as much as a slightly overweight, jolly professor with an ample waistband can breeze into a room.)
"I hope we're all refreshed and prepared for today's lesson."
no subject
James seems very intent on measuring out the pomegranate juice for his Strengthening Solution.
Lily watches for a second, then pulls finds a scrap of parchement and writes So. Saturday. Do I get a hint about what we're going to do?
She folds the note in quarters and slides it down the table to him.
Then goes back to mashing her own pomegranate seeds (she thinks it will work better than using just the juice).
no subject
Well, surely he can't mess up a note that badly as he has with regular, normal-person speech, right?
He reaches for a quill and writes,
Where's your sense of adventure?
— oh. Now, that sounds more like himself.
He folds the return scrap into a small square, and lets it float back to her, low against the table's surface in case Slughorn happens to glance their way.
no subject
(She kind of succeeds.)
She grins at him, and then sends the note back to him.
Define 'adventure.'
no subject
(Maybe he should stick with writing for the rest of the week.
Until his nerves have calmed.
Or something.)
adventure |adˈven ch ər; əd-|
noun
an exciting and sometimes surprising activity that calls for the enthusiasm and daring a Gryffindor would rightly demonstrate: ex. Lily Evans will enjoy her adventure of a date with James Potter this weekend.
no subject
I'm not getting a hint, am I?
Just tell me if I need to bring skis or my own set of oars or a croquet set or anything like that.
no subject
But he cannot make any promises.
Alas.)
Just bring your lovely self.
I can guarantee there won't be any oars involved.
no subject
I think I can manage that.
When should I meet you and where?
no subject
Right by the Great Hall.
You can wait inside if you want. I'll come find you.
James' potion is starting to gurgle.
He quickly sprinkles in a dash of dragon scale powder to get it to calm down, only half-paying attention.
Luckily today's potion isn't particularly challenging.
He's got way more than enough on his mind, honestly.
no subject
(And no earthly idea what she's going to wear.)
P.S. Add three drops of essense of verbena. Trust me.
no subject
He glances over at her and grins, feeling a lot more like himself (thank Merlin) — calmer now, and more at ease. He thinks he might even be able to talk again, once they've finished with their potions.
A few seconds later, James proceeds to grab the bottle of verbena as directed.
Once three drops have been added to his cauldron, bringing a rather clean scent to his potion, he quickly scrawls,
Thank you.
It's not just the potion hint he's thanking her for, of course.
no subject
Lily gives Professor Slughorn a reassuring smile -- of the 'oh, no, nothing going on here except potion brewing' variety, and while she's not sure he believes her, he waves his hands in a 'carry on' gesture and goes back to examining the work at the Ravenclaw table.
The smile James gets, before she turns her attention back to her Strengthening Solution, is probably also reassuring, if slightly more conspiratorial.
The note skitters over to him about a minute later.
Any time.