Genetics • Sirius Black

Chapter Forty Seven: Let's Just Call It A Day

"Are you doing that on purpose?"

James Potter was not a violent person, however, Freya Grey was truly testing that aspect of himself.

"No." He muttered, unsure exactly what he was "doing on purpose". Or how he managed to be doing it for the past hour and a half under in the stuffy lab. It was a Sunday, for Merlin's sake, he should be playing quidditch or sleeping at this hour, not being berated by a woman a full head shorter than him. He was going to kill Sirius Black for this.

Grueling in sweat, James strained the orange root and felt her sharp gaze on him, again. "What?"

"Nothing." Her head tilted as she watched him; her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

At one point, he considered reminding her that he got high marks in every potions class he's been to and managed quite complex brews himself, so there really was no need for her to micromanage him so intensely, but he knew that'd be futile. James suspected even if Merlin himself came down to her lab, she would still find problems with his technique.

"What?" Finally, he stopped his work entirely and turned to her.

She did not say anything for a moment then a small pinch formed between her brows. "Is... that your best?"

"Take Peter next time." James snapped, taking off his goggles. "Actually, you'd probably kill him."

Without an ounce of hesitation, Freya replied. "No. He's less prideful than you."

Offended, James could think of no other thing to say other than the obvious. "Merlin, you're mean."

"And you are ruining it," Freya stated, humorlessly.

"Ruining it? Freya, you've been at this for weeks, and you're nowhere!" He cried, tossing his hands up. Her lips pressed tightly together, and her eyes dropped. A pang of guilt hit James's chest from his outburst. Sighing, James rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm tired, and you're clearly tired. Let's just call it a day."

In an instant, Freya switched back into work mode, her chin up, but her gaze on her work. "You can leave whenever you want to." Fingers moving diligently over vials and herbs, she continued. "Rest if you please, but do not pretend to care about my state of being for the sake of your argument."

"That's not what I— ugh. I'll see you later." The brown-eyed boy tore off his apron and left. Not that it bothered Freya, she could do the whole damn thing herself as she planned. If anything, they were holding her back.

***

"Hello— no, that's not quite, right." Sirius Black muttered to himself in front of his full-length mirror. "Okay... Hello, Freya— Merlin, you're supposed to be smoothing things over not chatting her up." He straightened his shoulders, finding it difficult to fit remorseful on his face without it being too charming; curse his looks. How did people do this?

The dorm door busted open and James Potter came in, cheeks lightly flushed. Quickly, Sirius turned away from the mirror and casually started leaning on his bedpost, however, James was not looking at him at all.

"She's insane." He started, hands moving with passion as he went to his bed trunk. "Is dicing not the same as mincing? Merlin, she acts like she invented potion's making." Quickly, he tore through his items until he found another pair of shoes, and he stuffed his feet into them. "You know, we took the same potions classes, the same ones. Bloody hell, we made an animagus potion last year." James looked at Sirius for support, and Sirius nodded. The glasses-wearing boy did a double take of his friend. "Oh, good you're dressed, I want to take a round on the field, and if those same fourth years are there again, I'm going to stick my broomstick up all their arses— Peter, you coming?" When there came no reply, James glanced at the empty bed where Peter typically liked to stay on the weekends. "Where's Peter?"