alotofgood | 011. 9 april 1976.

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011. 9 april 1976.

April 9, 1976 — 21:52 hours.
Hogwarts, Scotland
Gryffindor Common Room
Directly after this.

James is still sitting in the same place he'd been for the last twenty-five minutes since Cliona Byrne and Lily Evans went up to the girls dormitories, after exchanging a few short glances.

He hadn't gotten a terribly good look at Evans, but he's willing to bet, from a combination of Cliona's reaction and her 'I'll be back in a bit and I'll tell you everything' expression, something odd happened at Slughorn's Party tonight.

Something not entirely good either.

A part of him actually regrets not going (despite his success in avoiding Slughorn and everything Slughorn Related for the past few weeks, aside from Potions), if it would've helped Evans in some way.

And a part of him wishes, if anything, Sirius Black hadn't ended up in detention for 'inappropriate behaviour' (Professor McGonagall wasn't entirely pleased to step out of her classroom to find Sirius and some girl snogging right by her door; Sirius' weak defense had been, "I didn't know she was in there! I thought she'd gone off somewhere!") so he could go to the party.

Remus and Peter have gone off to bed at James' insistence.

Which leaves him anxiously awaiting Cliona's return.

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It's almost a half an hour, ultimately, before Cliona comes back down to the common room.

She and Mary had gotten the whole story out of Lily while Glynis had fretted and Perdita had somehow managed to hold her tongue (which Cliona is really no end of grateful for).

And then Lily said really, she'd be fine, she was fine, but she was tired and she wanted to go to bed and she'd talk to them all in the morning, and she vanished behind the curtains on her bed.

Cliona and Perdita and Mary and Glynis had all looked at each other for a moment. Then Perdita went back to helping Mary pack and Glynis went back to her book and Cliona changed out of her dress robes and said she was going to go see if Fenton was back from explaining everything to McGonagall.

Because she doesn't really think mentioning that she's headed downstairs to fill James in on things is the thing to do, really.

(Besides, she does want to see Fenton, too.)

She's not at all surprised to find James exactly where she left him.

"Hello, James."

James is very patient when he needs to be.

Of course, that doesn't stop him from fidgeting with the rubber stopper of his ink bottle, which he puts down as soon as Cliona has reappeared.

"So, what happened?"

"Rafferty Gibbon happened."

Cliona drops into the chair nearest James', and begins fishing the pins out of her still arranged-for-the-party hair.

"She's all right. I mean, she's not hurt. She disarmed him before him before he could actually hex her or whatever it was he was trying to do, but it was all rather ugly."

"Gibbon," he repeats.

God, he hates that bastard.

"I ought to go right over to Slytherin's common room and give him a bloody —"

He takes a breath.

"You know, there's a reason I don't like going to any of Slughorn's functions. Making nice with the Slytherin just isn't going to happen."

"Not any time soon, it's not," Cliona says.

"He called her a Mudblood, James. And a bitch. And he said some other things that I'm not going to repeat because they were crass and disgusting, and directed to Snape, but about Lily, and meant to be overheard."

"He — what?"

Of all the words to possibly choose to say.

Of all the fucking things anyone could possibly say to any other person —

He's not sure why he's surprised. Gibbon is just about as rotten as they get in Slytherin. The whole fucking lot of them are a disgrace to the Wizarding World.

James' hands clench into fists.

"Where was Slughorn during all this?"

"The other side of the room, out of earshot," Cliona says.

She's calm because she's had time to get through the reaction already, and because she had something to do in response.

"Crispin stepped in, though. Right after Lily took forty-five points from Slytherin and Gibbon's wand in front of What's-Her-Face, that sixth year he's dating with the terrible hair.

"He marched Gibbon off to talk to Slughorn, sent Lily back here with Fenton and me.

"Fenton walked us here and then went to tell McGonagall."

"Just forty-five? I would've taken ... a thousand points. Put those bloody idiots in the negatives. And that's only for starters," he says, hands still clenched so tight, he's beginning to feel the sting of his fingernails biting into flesh.

He'd been standing since Cliona came into the common room.

Slowly, he starts to pace, shoving his hands into the pockets of his robes instead.

He can feel his wand in his left-hand pocket.

It'd be simple, really ... it'd only take a second —

The party would probably still be going on, and no one would kick him out. If anything, Slughorn might still be absolutely chuffed to see him ...

"Right. Maybe I'll just —"

"James, sit the hell down.

"Don't even think about it. You're not going down there. If you show up flinging hexes around you're just going to make it worse for everyone, including Lily.

"It's being handled. He tried to attack a prefect in front of Crispin and you know how seriously Crispin takes respect for his authority, and the authority of the system.

"Besides, we need to talk about tomorrow."

James sits the hell down.

"All right," he says. "All right — fine. I won't go down there. I won't ... bloody hex Gibbon and his slimy Slytherin friends to next year. Even if they deserve it."

He crosses his arms over his chest instead, looking appropriately sulky.

"All right," he says again, still distracted, "what about tomorrow?"

Edited 2011-01-20 02:58 (UTC)

"It's Gibbon, James," Cliona says, leaning forward slightly and dropping her voice.

"Do you remember last year? What he tried to do to Artemesia? And that was just because we beat them at Quidditch, and he isn't even on the team.

"Lily got the better of him in front of his friends. The points he may or may not care about, but being disarmed by a Muggleborn Gryffindor? That I suspect he will care about. A lot.

"I wouldn't put it past him and his 'slimy Slytherin friends' to try to retaliate, not for a second. Would you?

"I mean, why do you think Crispin sent her back here with an escort?

"And tomorrow we're all on a train. No teachers. Easy enough to catch someone, hex someone.

"You know that."

"Blimey," says James, blinking. "Yeah. He's a rotten sort. Maybe one of the most rotten of his year."

Definitely Death Eater material, if anyone were to give a guess about it.

"We can keep an eye out, me and the others."

She'll know whom he's referring to.

"Make sure Evans or any of the other prefects don't end up getting ambushed, you know."

"Good."

Because the prefects can handle themselves, and Cliona knows that.

But if she needed someone to hex a Slytherin in an emergency?

Well, as much as she loves Fenton and Lily ... James is her first choice. And Sirius Black is probably her second.

"Just be subtle if you can."

She's knows that's asking a lot.

"Because Lily 'll kill us both if she finds out about this conversation."

"Right." He taps his nose. "I can do subtle when I need to."

His lips quirk with the starts of a smile.

"Shouldn't be too hard to appear at the 'right time', of course. It's easy enough to smell the stink of a Slytherin from miles away. Especially if Snivellus is among them."

Beat.

"Wait. Where was Snape in all this?"

Cliona frowns.

"He wasn't in it. He was very carefully out of it. Didn't attack her, but didn't defend her, either.

"Not until it was over, and then he tried to offer to be the one to walk her back here. Crispin told him that Fenton had it in hand.

"And Lily ... Lily wouldn't talk to him. At least not right then."

"Bloody hell. I thought that git was supposed to be Evans' best friend."

He shakes his head.

"I told her he was nothing but a cowardly, spineless, no-good wanker. You know, those are the times you get to see who your real mates are. And Snivellus Snape proves — yet again — how worthless he really is."

"Well, if you're expecting me to defend the bastard, you're going to have a long wait."

"See, I knew there was another reason why you and I are friends," he says, grinning before the thought of Snape sobers him greatly.

"I hope for Evans' sake, Snape doesn't try to have a word with her tomorrow. It'd do her worse harm anyway having that slippery twat around. It'd give those other bastards a chance to provoke her again."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll try at some point. And Lily'll probably let him, too, unfortunately."

He heaves a sigh.

"I don't know what she sees in him. You know, once you get past the thick greasy film he calls 'hair'."

"Oh, come on, James. That one's easy.

"She sees a person he isn't anymore.

"Assuming he ever was. I don't know.

"You know they're from the same town, right? She's known him since she was nine, longer than she's known anyone else here."

"Well, I knew they were friends, but I sort of assumed it was because they happened to meet on the train or something and got on really well."

For — you know — whatever insane reasons.

"Bloody hell. That slimy bugger actually lives in the same town Lily Evans does?"

And they've known each other since they were nine?

Why is that not reassuring at all?

"Yeah, he does," Cliona says.

"So she thinks she knows him."

"That's not good. So all Easter, he'll be ... slipping about to Evans' door, begging for forgiveness or something else equally as ridiculous."

Okay.

Yeah.

His insults are getting a little weak.

But.

Can anyone blame him?

Snivellus lives in the same town Lily does.

The universe really does hate him.

"Until she finally accepts it and they go on being friends while Snape allows his sleazy, rubbish goons to continue acting like they've got some god-given right to go about terrorizing innocent students."

"Believe me, I don't like it any better than you do, James.

"But there's nothing we can do about that but hope she figures it out."

"Yeah."

Well, if he has anything to say (or do) about it, he'll make sure — at the very least — tomorrow's train ride back home contains very little communication between Lily Evans and any Slytherin who'd been in attendance at the party.

"Yeah," she says.

And then turns, as the portrait hole door swings open and Fenton steps into the common room.

Cliona slides over in her chair to make room for him, and he sits, slipping him arm around her waist.

"Have you been filling Potter in?" he asks, with a nod toward James as a greeting.

"Yeah," she says. "He saw us come in."

He nods a greeting in return.

"How'd McGonagall take it, then?"

"Incredulous indignance mixed with no nonsense practicality and just a hint of righteous anger.

"She met with Slughorn, who didn't take it well, either. You don't expect your guests to try to attack each other, after all.

"Plus the band finally arrived, which improved no one's mood, I'm afraid.

"Gibbon's got a few detentions waiting for him after break, and I doubt he'll be getting any more supper invites."

"Yeah. That sounds about Typical of Professor McGonagall, really," James remarks, smirking just a bit.

Still.

"I wish Gibbon suffered a little more. Somehow, it still feels like he'd gotten off easy."

Maybe it's a lack of physical damage done to his face.

Oh, well.

Tomorrow is a new day!

Fenton regards James for a moment. "Whatever it is you're planning, Potter, it is my duty as a prefect to tell you ...

"I can't know about it."

Because then he'd have to Do Something about it.

And Fenton would rather not.

"I assure you I'm planning nothing," says James in perfect innocence. "To even suspect me of such a thing — well, Blane, I'm shocked, really."

"I am, too. Terribly shocked. Such a suspicious mind, Fenton," Cliona says, and laughs.

Fenton looks from one to the other, and rolls his eyes. "Of course," he says. "Apologies."

He turns back to his girlfriend.

"How's Evans?"

Cliona frowns. "Well, she says she's all right. For whatever that's worth. We talked about it all a little, all of us, and then she said she was tired and she went to bed. I think she's hoping it'll blow over."

"Evans might hope for that, but I know Slytherin will never let things simply blow over," says James. "That's the way those bastards work. They're good at biding their time, waiting for the opportunity to strike when people least expect it.

"Honestly, the best thing to do is to nip it in the bud while we still have a chance."

He glances at Fenton briefly.

"Not that I'm planning on personally carrying out this mission, of course."

Fenton just says, "Let Lupin know what happened, would you?"

The prefects are going to need to know.

Especially since Fenton has more or less just given James Potter tacit permission to nip things in the bud.

Or, you know, wherever.

"Of course. Remus'll have the full story, as soon as I've gone up to the dormitories. No doubt he's still awake right now."

Probably gossiping with Peter about what could possibly be keeping James from coming upstairs.

He stands.

"And on that note, I suppose I ought to do just that."

He pauses.

"Oy — and while you were out talking to McGonagall, Blane, you didn't happen to see Sirius Black about, did you?"

Fenton shakes his head. "No, but I -- "

"Over there," Cliona says, as a slightly dusty, slightly grimy, slightly knackered, and completely grmubly looking Sirius climbs through the portrait hole.

James turns around.

"Sirius! There you are, old boy."

Sirius looks from James to Fenton to Cliona, then back again.

He scratches his head. "What's going on, then?"

"Long story," says James. "And I'll explain it all, as soon as we get upstairs." Then cheerfully: "Right. I'll leave you two. See you tomorrow."

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011. 9 april 1976.

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