the girlfriend experience, james potter
𝒔𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟕
chapter eight, SLUG CLUB AND LILY EVANS
✧ ━━━ · ✦ · ━━━ ✧
"WHERE THE FUCK WAS MY INVITE?"
Andromeda Black had no undying love for Potions but upon finding out about Professor Slughorn's "Club for Special Students" of which did not include her, she was pissed.
Bronwyn had, in fact, received an invite to the Slug Club dinner party that was being held in the Potions Master's office the following evening, and now tried her best to hide the personal, handwritten letter, informing her of her invitation, as best she could beneath her fingers. "Maybe if you handed your assignments on time, you'd get one."
Andromeda's face creased in confusion, her eyebrows knitting together, with genuine puzzlement. "I'm a great student," she said, truly believing her own words.
Bronwyn absently hummed as she stared down at her invitation, while Andromeda strolled away, muttering uninterested words that sounded a little like "whatever". She heard the creaking of Andy's bed under her weight, even if she was only vaguely aware of her surroundings.
Bronwyn knew she was a good student, but she hates social events. It wasn't like she didn't feel as though she deserved to be there ─ she's rather gifted when it came to Potions and the snake emblem on her chest boosted her rank even if Slughorn won't admit it out loud ─ because self-satisfaction isn't a stranger to Bronwyn. But, unlike some (cough, cough James Potter), she doesn't go walking around verbalising all of her amazing achievements.
What were they supposed to do at this dinner anyway? Laugh about how impressively fast they brewed their last potion? Belittle the people who didn't make it to their snobbish, aristocratic country club? Joke about the horrendous thought of getting a mark anywhere below 80%?
Maybe Bronwyn was being a little harsh when it came to Slughorn's intentions ─ he was a sweet guy, all in all ─ but, if you asked Bronwyn, it was simply fuel for an already thriving superiority complex.
Bronwyn had to go ─ it was only right. Besides, what excuse would she make instead? Didn't feel well? Bronwyn never got sick. Had lots of homework? Knowing Slughorn, he'd probably write a letter to all of her professors excusing her of the work, and she couldn't have that. She'll go, it's not that big of a deal. Maybe it'll be over in an hour or two. It's extra brownie points from her Potions professor anyway, what's the harm done?
Bronwyn grabbed a spare piece of parchment from her bedside table, dapped her dry quill in her pot of ink, and began scribbling down the names of students she expected to be there. It was a little game, a test of her knowledge of her classmates. Who did Horace Slughorn love the most?
✧
"YOU OFF TO SLUGHORN'S TOO, WARD?"
Before this encounter progresses any further, Bronwyn would like to state for the record that she does not like Severus Snape. He acts far too big for his boots, epitomises the idea of conceitedness and definitely does not wash his hair. In fact, Bronwyn would much rather spend time with James Potter at a dinner party with her parents than this slimy, greasy-haired kid. And Bronwyn has to do that anyway.
Bronwyn let her eyes fall to a close upon hearing his voice. She had hoped to avoid anyone and everyone up until she was made to sit around a table with her classmates to no doubt drink a whole tub of tea each. The universe had different ideas.
After gathering the strength, she spun on the spot and faced the boy getting up from the sofa he was perched on in the Slytherin common room. She watched as he brushed his hands along his brown dress trousers, to flatten out any non-existent creases.
Snape was wearing a dusty off-white shirt, and a brown waistcoat to match his rustic trousers and dinner jacket. His greasy ─ as per usual ─ hair was slicked down flat, almost covering his ears, with what Bronwyn can only imagine, was the entire tube of hair gel.
Bronwyn narrowed her eyes on him, specifically how high his chin was raised. "I am," she replied bluntly. "I assume you are too?"
Snape was top on Bronwyn's prediction list. Potions was practically a personality trait for this kid.
She couldn't be too sure, due to the distance between them, and the mild chatter filling the common room, but Bronwyn thinks she heard Snape scoff. "Of course," he said, and she tried her hardest not to contort her face in disgust.
Of course? Was his ego that disgustingly large that he expected those around him to predict he was already automatically invited to Slughorn's get-together because he was so "talented" at Potions and this happened to be an event to celebrate the professor's best students? Someone needed to humble this kid. And Bronwyn didn't want to be the one to do it.
Bronwyn blinked, and then again, questioning her decision to go to this dinner party if people like him were going to be there. Some of the twenty or so people she had predicted on her list of possible attendees she could put up with, and as for the others, she was holding out hope that her list was wrong.
She fumbled awkwardly behind her in an attempt to escape the boy before it would become inevitable that they would walk to the dinner together. It was five to six, and if Snape wasn't going to walk with her, he'd be cutting it a bit short. And no one should be late to a dinner party of which you had been cherry-picked, specially chosen for because of your honourability as one of Slughorn's students.
But even turning around to face the stone wall separating her from the outside dungeons, didn't shut her off from Severus Snape. And by the time she got the wall to slide open, he was stood by her side, with his hands in his pocket, looking as though he was executing a tragic attempt at playing it cool.
Bronwyn can't recall the period in their relationship that changed Severus' opinions of her. When he decided they weren't just housemates, but rather loose friends as well. Because Bronwyn does not consider Severus Snape a friend. If anything, she'd rather not acknowledge the boy as a Slytherin full stop. Bronwyn loves house pride, but this boy demolished any desire she had to be proud of her house when he wore the serpent badge on his green robes.
It was possible that Snape didn't actually consider Bronwyn a friend, but taking into account his personality ─ curt, disrespectful, surly, impolite, boorish, boring, uncivil, she can go on by the way ─ he's not the type of person to make conversation with just anyone.
And conversation he did indeed make.
Bronwyn couldn't recall one word of what Snape had said to her on their way to Professor Slughorn's office, where the invitation told them to go at seven o'clock on Friday evening. Because his voice was so damn monotone, it was hard to maintain any of the information he was feeding you. And tiresome information that was.
She found the mundane stone tiling that pathed their journey more interesting than his words. She thinks he was talking at her something vaguely about his opinions on Slughorn, but, like stated earlier, Severus Snape's drawl could put her to sleep.
When they finally made it to their desired location two minutes later (although it felt a lot like two hours later) Bronwyn was so very thankful to see other human beings lined up outside of the place of the dinner party, that didn't have greasy hair and speak like a bloody robot.
But, like all good, even if brief, things, this moment of gratitude from Bronwyn's end, was crushed by the sound of cackling laughter from the end of the line that could only belong to one person and one person only.
You know that list she made, predicting all of the invitees of Slughorn's club? It didn't have James Potter on it. Bronwyn was hence, not prepared at all.
When Bronwyn said she'd choose James over Snape, that did not mean she actually wanted to suffer in his company at a selective dinner party after school hours. Especially not after his last Quidditch match, of which he lost.
Don't get her wrong, Bronwyn loves gloating about her victories ─ James does it often enough ─ but due to his sheer inability to act his age, Bronwyn cannot stomach constantly rubbing her win in his face, even if he wouldn't treat her the same. The boy's a total sore loser. And she didn't want to have to deal with that since she expected James to do enough boasting in front of Slughorn tonight. It was quite literally a club created to honour his favourite and most conscientious students. Bronwyn reckons James Potter is rolling in his own self-righteousness right about now, just because he received an invite in the first place.
That's probably why his laugh was so high pitched.
Bronwyn strolled past the ten or so students that were lined up outside of the office, the door to which was still shut tight, where she would inevitably stand behind James and whoever he was laughing with and/or at. She tried to delay the journey but she had no intention of talking to anyone else who was invited to the event, and seeing as she and Snape were last to arrive, she guesses, it is the usual protocol to go to the back of the queue.
Remus Lupin, who was standing beside James at the very back, didn't look as amused as James, but rather more polite, and mature, adorned in navy, his hair as scruffy as always.
James ─ black trousers, crisp white shirt, void of any jacket or waistcoat to pair with it ─ lost any physical form of enthusiasm upon Bronwyn's arrival. And, unlike her, he was very much prepared to verbalise this distaste.
As Bronwyn nonchalantly (this act was very much forced ─ she was fighting the urge not to insult his attire because she most definitely wanted to tell him that this was a formal dinner with his professor, not a party) took her place behind Remus, where James instantly stopped laughing, and looked her up and down.
It was obvious James was not over his loss from the other day.
"You got an invite to this?" James questioned bitterly, as a smirk slowly crept up onto his face. "I didn't think Slughorn approved of cheating."
Bronwyn didn't want to retaliate, she really didn't, but sighing just wasn't enough. She crossed her arms over her chest and smiled sweetly at James' friend. "Remus," she said, causing the boy's eyes to spring upwards, unexpectedly, "Would you be a dear and please tell your friend James here that he needs to grow up and accept defeat before he embarrasses himself further?"
She smiled sweetly, even as Remus looked rather confuddled by her request. Bronwyn believes that not talking to James directly, wasn't the same as retaliation. Not quite.
James caught on to what she was doing, one brow slowly lifting as he poked his tongue at the walls of his mouth. After a second of Remus opening and closing his mouth, unsure of what to do, James rotated his head slowly, in the direction of his friend, who was standing in between him and Bronwyn. "Moony, my friend," James said, "Would you please tell Bronwyn that my maturity is none of her business and frankly she should be ashamed of herself for executing unlawful Quidditch tactics?" His head had slowly turned back to Bronwyn, where his eyes pierced hers.
Bronwyn grew taller slightly, ingesting his words, before making her move in response, "Remus-"
"Please don't bring me into this." It was about time Remus spoke his mind, even if he winced afterwards.
Both of them silently understood Remus' reasoning, and so decided not to bring words into their altercation. Instead, Bronwyn and James had a staring contest, until Professor Slughorn made an appearance from behind the closed door of his office.
The large man stepped out into the hallway, with his hands tucked into his raised pockets, a big, megawatt grin on his face. "Good evening all!" He chimed, piquing the interest of all the students waiting. "Let's go in, shall we?"
Bronwyn didn't know what she expected from this dinner, and so she walked into his office, completely blind. And not just because she had never seen Slughorn's office arranged this way.
A large circular table was situated in the middle, a grander chair, which one can assume was for the professor, was at one end, and then other chairs surrounded it. The table was laid with golden napkins, and cutlery to match, along with the tallest goblets Bronwyn had ever seen. In the middle stood piles of food, hot steam floating from their insides.
The group of students filed into the room, each taking in the display of appetising delicacies, dispersing around the table and taking a seat at the elegantly presented table.
Bronwyn must have drawn the short straw because not only did Snape sit on her left ─ with zero permission granted, it's important to add (Bronwyn didn't exactly have any idea who else she'd let sit there, but she certainly didn't want him to), but James was also heading for the seat on her right. And it certainly wasn't because Bronwyn was inches away from him. If anything that was the one downside to his plan. His move was in fact because a certain redhead was making friendly conversation with Remus Lupin while the students made their way to the table.
James must have seen his opportunity to socialise with her because as soon as Lily made the slightest hint to the seat she had chosen ─ the one to the left of Remus ─ James dashed to her side, cooly of course, and offered to pull out her chair, imagining it made himself come across as a gentleman.
As Bronwyn slowly took her seat, two chairs down from this incredibly awkward interaction, Lily smiled uncomfortably, and muttered a quiet thanks, while James held onto the backboard of her chair. The redhead slowly perched herself down onto the chair James had so "kindly" pulled out for her, sharing a quick glance with Remus as if to say what is he doing?. Remus couldn't help but smirk. He tried to conceal it with his hand, but Bronwyn saw past that.
James took in a deep breath before assisting Lily in drawing her chair closer to the table. Bronwyn wondered whether what he thought he was doing was going well in terms of winning her over. And, Bronwyn will admit, it's a nice gesture, but not in this case. Bronwyn could spot the thorniness in Lily's face ─ she did not want James Potter to help her get settled. In fact, it made her even more unsettled.
Trying not to laugh at James, while also trying to ignore Severus' attempts at making conversation, Bronwyn watched as James cleared his throat, hovering awkwardly behind Lily. He stared down at her, waiting for some kind of conversation to follow. It did not come, and Lily resumed conversation with a very amused Remus Lupin as if James wasn't there at all.
James tried to cover up his embarrassment as he sat down, looking as though he was questioning every single one of his life's choices. Even while the mild chatter died down to let Slughorn speak, he turned to Lily briefly, opening his mouth to speak, but didn't end up saying anything while she remained immersed in conversation with his best friend.
Bronwyn had seen a case such as this one. Several actually. Unrequited love. She had had a few clients in the past who have been desperately in love with someone, but their feelings had not been repaid. Of course, Bronwyn would never laugh at a client's tragicness because that would be unprofessional and rude, but this was different. This was James Potter ─ confident (although it now appears he's just over-confident), snarky and rather self-absorbed. She's allowed to laugh at James Potter. What she had never seen, however, was this very boy act so sheepish before. This boy had never once had a faltering ego or an act of shyness. He had never been humbled (except maybe by Bronwyn on the Quidditch pitch) and so he rarely got embarrassed. This moment, right here right now, told a completely different story.
Judging by his physical behaviour and body movements, James has in fact been in love with said redhead for quite a while. And it has been unrequited from start to finish. A tragic tale. Truly. And Bronwyn wonders why she has never ever seen James Potter act so differently in the presence of Lily Evans. Considering his track record ─ incredibly public, loud and big ─ she would have thought he constantly publicised his love for this girl, all the time, for everyone to hear─
Shut the front door. Bing-freaking-pot. Holy shit.
It's probably because she doesn't care enough about the boy but Bronwyn hasn't thought about James' "wickle, school-boy crush" since their detention. Even when she had been so engrossed and so determined to find out who it was. And the answer was right in front of her.
Everyone probably knew except her. But now she did know. And it didn't take away from how complacent she felt in this moment. James Potter is in love ─ like he's got it bad ─ with Lily Evans.
Bronwyn didn't realise she had zoned out so much that she hadn't previously noticed Slughorn welcome his favourite students to his dinner party. Nor had she realised she was staring. James informed her of this:
"What are you looking at, Ward?" He snapped, a total opposite aura than the one he was giving off when it came to interacting with Evans.
Bronwyn blinked out of her daydream, and took her chin from off of her palm ─ she doesn't remember even resting it there. "Nothing," she smiled sarcastically, stretching her neck and lifting her chin.
She wanted to say more. To tell him what she was really thinking about. But that would just wind him up. And as much as Bronwyn enjoys winding James Potter up ─ because she really does ─ some unfamiliar maturity washed over her, and she decided to pay attention to the professor that apparently loved her more than seventy-five per cent of her year. She'd talk to James about his failure later. Well, more like tease him about it.
This dinner can't be so bad. The food smells good and Slughorn will probably talk to all of them collectively so she can at least avoid one-on-one conversation with Severus. It can't be all bad ─ especially when she can amuse herself with James Potter's catastrophically sad attempt at flirting with Lily Evans all night long.
✧
"SO BRONWYN."
Bronwyn was unprepared for Slughorn to revert his attention onto her because she had a spoonful of ice cream, wedge between her lips, icing the inside of her mouth. All heads turned towards her, and she felt her cheeks warm up, even with the frozen delight that rested on her tongue.
"I think some congratulations are in order," Slughorn said cheerily from the opposite end of the table; Bronwyn's eyes pinned on his gaze, so she could avoid looking at anyone else.
She didn't have time to swallow the entire contents of her spoon, so deposited the ice cream on her tongue, and began slowly peeling the silverware from her mouth. "Hm?"
The Professor's grin didn't falter. "If I am not mistaken, you led Slytherin to a fantastic victory just this week?"
Swallowing her dessert, and also some nerves that had arisen apparently, Bronwyn adopted a proud smile, at the prospects of talking about her Quidditch success. With a teacher. In front of James. "That's right," she said, nodding her head. "We're working really hard, Professor. I can promise you the Inter-House Cup at the end of the year."
"Not likely," she heard James mutter in a low voice from beside her.
Bronwyn reached for her goblet, to conceal her whisper behind its metal makeshift barrier. "The stats don't lie, Potter," she whispered, not looking at him, as she returned her cup to its place on the table, replacing her scowl with a beaming smile, which she sent to her professor.
Slughorn laughed animatedly, "Haha!" he sang, before lowering his voice and dipping his head towards the boy sitting beside Bronwyn. "And how does Mr Potter feel about that then?" A mischievous grin broke out on Slughorn's face, one similar to the ones James is so famous for. Except this time, James wasn't feeling as ballsy.
Bronwyn smiled sweetly, the sickly undertones only noticeable to James. She lowered her voice again, uttering something for only him to hear, like a ventriloquised act. "Two guesses."
James forced his smile to widen, in order to humour his teacher. "Just some friendly competition, Sir," he said. "There's nothing wrong with being confident, Miss Ward," he joked, playfully nudging her arm, acting as if the two of them were like two peas in a pod. Slughorn looked content with James' response, and so moved on to the quiet Regulus Black to his left. All the while, James lowered his voice and spoke only to Bronwyn once more, "Just don't get over-confident."
Bronwyn couldn't help but reply, "Practice what you preach, Potter."
James didn't have a response to this, and so retreated back into his chair, and absently participated in the rest of the dinner.
The rest of the party seemed to drag on, Bronwyn briefly being spoken to again, the same for James and Lily (James listened very intently to whatever came out of Evans' mouth by the way). But one particular event stood out to Bronwyn. And that of course involved James and his tendency to embarrass himself in front of his love.
Lily had leaned over her plate to reach for the board of profiteroles that were on display. She didn't look as though she was struggling to get them, but James still took this as an opportunity to be helpful and so he hastily leaned over to the plate to grab it for her, knocking over her full goblet onto her lap in the process.
If he wasn't so infuriating, Bronwyn would have thought he was sweet in ways. But he was insanely insufferable and so she had snorted into her napkin. And although the fabric muffled her laughter, James must have heard because he shot her a glance that shut her up quite quickly.
Nothing much exciting happened following that. And after many servings of ice cream ─ Slughorn insisted they all eat "as much as they would like" and so all of them decided just to eat it all simply to please their professor ─ and various discussions about school and their parents and their extra-curriculars, the Slug Club dinner party ended, the moon floating high, and the sky jet black outside.
Slughorn carefully dabbed his napkin against the crook of his mouth, before addressing the entire table, "I think that concludes our meal. We'll catch up next time. Thanks all for coming! And cheerio!"
Bronwyn was preparing herself to leave when she heard that second sentence. Her neck jutted out and not deliberately. She'd hate for people to think she hadn't enjoyed herself. Which wasn't entirely false, it just wasn't the whole truth. But seriously. Next time? She'd have to do this again?
She'll deal with that when she has to, Bronwyn thought to herself as all ten students chorused their goodbyes, gathered their jackets and headed for the exit.
With her eyes fluttering shut, and her conscience being aggressively attacked by a series of yawns, Bronwyn left the dinner party, darting away from Severus with hopes she'd get to walk to the Slytherin common room by herself.
Her wish did not come true. But it wasn't Snape that ambushed her. It was James.
"Why did you laugh?" His voice startled her, and her neck vibrated slightly when she felt his body press up to her side. The Gryffindor common room was on the other side of the castle, so whatever he had to say, better be a life-altering emergency. Knowing James, that was most definitely not the case.
Feeling too tired to push him out of the window and lacking so much energy to register his words, Bronwyn kept on walking, almost as if she was drunk. "Hm?"
James ─ apparently wide awake ─ was growing unnecessarily irritated. "You laughed at me," he said. "Just then. Why?"
It wasn't exactly just then but it was all James had been thinking about since it happened, Bronwyn's reaction completely occupating his mind, and so that's what it felt like.
And just like that, Bronwyn too was wide awake.
And simply because she had been wanting to tease him the entire evening, and now was her chance.
A devilish grin broke out on her face and life was restored in her eyes, "Oh God, you're hopeless." Was all she said. James' face contorted in a mix of concern, anger and bitterness.
James gulped, "W-what?" He could probably guess what she was hinting at, but he still felt a burning desire to wring any thoughts and opinions about his relationship with Lily Evans out of her.
Bronwyn shrugged innocently, "You like Evans," she said flatly, stifling the train of laughter that wanted to burst out of her at the memory of witnessing his attempt at flirting earlier.
James noticed how relaxed Bronwyn walked compared to him, and he pinched at his shirt to try and reinforce his cool attitude to his dating life. His sad dating life. "Yeah," he croaked. "So?"
Bronwyn chuckled dryly, "So?" she repeated his words. "You've got a long way to go if you want her to like you back, bud." Bronwyn slapped his back patronisingly.
James glanced backwards to inspect whoever was in earshot. Upon finding Regulus Black, Severus Snape and another Slytherin James couldn't name all heading in the same direction as him and Bronwyn, James' head snapped back to the front, and he grabbed onto Bronwyn's arm, pulling her into a tight hallway, and then underneath a staircase. Bronwyn yelped at the sudden attack and stared up at James in disbelief once he had let go.
"Can you not publicise that so loudly, please?" he pleaded in a whisper, his eyes flickering behind her to where he expected the three boys to pass any second. James didn't necessarily hide his undying love for Lily Evans but when it came to the Slytherins, in particular Snivellus, James believed it to be none of their business.
Bronwyn's brows furrowed at his reaction. She scoffed in amusement, "Are you not already embarrassed?" she asked, a smirk playing at her lips.
James ran his tongue along his front row of teeth as he peered down at her, "No," he mumbled. "It's . . . a work in progress, all right?"
Not that Bronwyn knew but Lily did not agree to go out with him after the Quidditch match earlier that week (surprise, surprise) because let's not forget ─ James did not catch the Golden Snitch like he was resolute that he would. Not that that would confirm her willingness to date him like he was so confident it would because James was and still is too lovestruck and dumb to realise that Lily Evans has absolutely no interest in dating him. And nor was he "taken" (his own words) by someone else, so the element of jealousy was off the table. James was at the nadir of his love life timeline. And he knew it.
Bronwyn laughed, causing him to scowl, "You got that right. At this rate, she'll agree to go out with you out of pure frustration."
James seemed confused by this statement. "I'm persistent. That's a good thing." He sounded unsure. More like he was asking her if that was a good thing, rather than whether it actually was.
"You may be persistent, but there's no need to harass the poor girl," Bronwyn said.
James wouldn't let his confidence waver. "I'm making an impression on her, actually."
Bronwyn's teeth peeked through her ever-growing grin. "Is that what you really think? You must be more desperate than I thought."
"Oh yeah? And what would you know, Bronwyn?" James dismissed the brief thought that he was only answering her with more questions because he believed what she was saying was right and he, therefore, didn't want to question it.
Bronwyn scoffed, "More than you, that's for sure."
James couldn't deny that everything she was saying was having an effect on him. Just ask the rock that had settled in the pit of his stomach. But he wasn't going to let her know that. "Just you watch," James drawled, making sure his faint sneer looked true. "She'll be my girlfriend by the end of the year."
James did not believe this. He wanted to, but he didn't. At least not anymore.
Bronwyn appreciated his effort, she really did. But she had encountered far too many overconfident bastards trying to weave their way into a girl's life when the girl in question didn't want them to. This was one of those cases. And inevitably, because of who the bastard in question was, Bronwyn was just going to find his efforts funny at the end of the day.
She leaned in closer, to make sure her words solidified in his brain, "I'll need to see it to believe it, Potter."
James refused to give in to the urge that wanted him to sigh and for his shoulders to sag and his spine to arch in vanquish. Instead, his eye twitched a little, and he heard her scoff one last time before she walked away and disappeared behind the wall separating him from the main castle.
Finally, James gave in to those urges, her final words repeating themselves in his mind. I'll need to see it to believe it, Potter.
And at this rate? So would he.
✧
JAMES HAS NEVER SHOWN ANY SIGNS of defeat in front of his friends before. He never admitted that maybe he was being far too pretentious when it came to Lily Evans. He detested the idea that maybe his plan to make her fall desperately in love with him was foolish and incredibly flawed, so he always made sure to keep his smirk shiny and un-faltered, as he ploughed through his seemingly tough mission. It was embarrassing otherwise. Mostly because, everyone around him had already worked out that he didn't stand a chance with the redheaded Gryffindor, besides him.
As much as he tried to cover it up, and as much as he hated to admit it, Bronwyn's words had got to him. Because he believed every word she said. Usually, he would never take any kind of criticism for his attempt to win Lily Evans over, but there was something different about the way Bronwyn made him sound. He started to pay attention to the way he acted, and he started to realise that maybe he was going about this all wrong. She made him pay attention.
He trudged into his dorm room a few minutes after his brutal conversation with Bronwyn Ward, his face an unknown sullen, as he tried to conceal his sheepishness.
Sirius shot up from his bed when he heard the door creaking open, brushing the dark hair that had fallen in front of his eyes out of the way, waiting for his best friend to report back the reason why he had returned much later than Remus had. Sirius hoped the explanation was something exciting and risky.
Remus simply glanced up from his piles of notes, a tattered quill grasped tightly in his hand, rolling his eyes upon James' arrival, "Oh finally," he drawled. This did not make James feel any better. It did the opposite.
Yes, Moony, James would also have rather been anywhere else besides listening to Bronwyn Ward insult him about his tragic love life too.
James opted not to speak first, and instead, flopped clumsily onto his bed, face first. Sirius' face dropped as he watched his friend groan grumpily into his pillow, the sound muffled by the fabric. Sirius now gathered James' absence had nothing to do with excitement, nor risk.
Peter winced at his friend's verbal complaints and looked up at Sirius for support. Sirius wasn't prepared to prompt James into confessing what had happened to him, so instead, with tightly pursed lips and wide eyes, he tilted his head in James direction, encouraging Peter to talk to the depressed boy, currently wailing into his pillow.
Peter feared Sirius' serious and silent instruction, and so cautiously shuffled over to James' bed. "Uh James," Peter muttered, "Is everything okay?"
"No everything is not okay, Pete," James grumbled, his head still buried, his hair all scraggly. "Just leave me alone."
Peter wanted to tell James that that was rather hard when he was sobbing into his pillows, and now whacking his head down onto the cushions, so much so Peter thought the feathers might burst from beneath the cover, but he concluded that was probably not what James wanted to hear right about now.
Sirius hated seeing his best friend like this. Mainly because he wasn't used to it. "James, come on mate," he said, "Tell us what happened."
The room was engulfed in silence, James no longer weeping like a baby. Remus even looked up from his homework to inspect the lack of sound from James' bed. Finally, James worked up the energy to haul himself onto his back, so his words were no longer muffled. "She called me desperate," he said solemnly, not aware that not one of his dormmates had any idea what or who he was referring to.
Sirius looked over at Remus to see if he knew anything about what James was talking about. Remus shrugged absently, and Sirius was left with the only option but to interrogate a melancholy James further. "Who did?" he asked.
James looked like the physical representation of unrequited love ─ wistful, tired and if it weren't for the words coming out of his mouth, he looked as though he was daydreaming. "Bronwyn," he told them. "She told me I was "harassing" Evans," he made bunny motions with his fingers. "That's ridiculous, right? Tell me that's ridiculous."
Sirius immediately replied, "That's completely ridiculous, Prongs."
When neither Remus nor Peter replied, Sirius shot a glance over at the boy studying on the other end of the dorm and if looks could kill, Remus would have keeled over and died. What Remus didn't want to do was lie. Which he would be doing if he did what James had asked him to do. But as Sirius pierced his eyes deeper, Remus felt as though he should say something just to make both James and Sirius happy.
With a roll of his eyes and a silent sigh, Remus continued to stare at Sirius bored, as he spoke, "Totally." There was zero conviction in his voice, and frankly, Remus sounded like he could go to sleep at any point. Which was very much true. His eyes focused back onto his work a second later.
James wasn't appreciative of his friends' support yet because not all of them had spoken. He slowly turned his head to his short friend, "Peter?" he prompted.
Peter's throat made a wave motion as he swallowed hard. His gaze travelled from James to Sirius then to an absent Remus and then back to James. He picked at his cuticles. "Well . . ." Peter mumbled, trailing off before he said anything of value, too frightened of what Sirius might say and how James might feel by his lack of support.
James' neck jutted out, "Well, what?"
Peter swallowed again, building up enough courage to speak. He stared at the floor, his head tilting to one side, "If Bronwyn said it then . . ." he said. Peter couldn't see it, but James' eyes widened with severity as he pushed his chin out further. Peter shrugged, apologetically, as if whatever he was trying to say was, unfortunately, the truth and not his fault. ". . . that's that."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" James snapped, his bottom lip drooping so his mouth hung open.
Sirius gave Peter the same look he gave Remus earlier ─ penetrating and hostile as if he was threatening the poor boy to dare say anything more. "Peter," he hissed through gritted teeth, so as not to alarm James.
Peter's shoulders hunched, "What?" he said in a high pitch squeal. "He doesn't know. Don't you think he should?"
James' brows furrowed and you best believe he expected Sirius to explain himself and Peter within the next few seconds. "Should know what?" he prolonged impertinently, sitting up straighter like a stiff ironing board.
Remus' interest in this discussion had piqued and he slowly lifted his head and eye-line in curiousity.
Sirius released his tight-grip stare that once hung over Peter and looked over at James hastily, "It's nothing, James, honestly," he said before his tone went hiss-like again as he glared at Peter. "Wormtail's just winding you up."
Peter's neck flushed red in panic, "I'm not, honestly James, I would never."
James narrowed his eyes on the boy who sat opposite him in silence. How the boy managed to not contribute to the conversation but still decided to watch in any way. "Remus?" He said. "Do you know what they're referring to?" James cocked his head in Peter's direction.
Remus did. He knew what they were talking about and he agreed with Peter. But he feared Sirius' reaction too much to risk it. "Don't look at me," Remus said, his face almost disgusted by the thought.
"Just forget I said anything," Peter pleaded.
Sirius raised a brow at the boy, who was now almost cowering backwards towards the door, "Yeah, let's," he spat.
The four boys fell silent, and James was not happy about it. He was the only one unaware of what the others' row was about. He was alone in the dark.
Remus studied his friends' faces inquisitively. Sirius was flustered with frustration, but also recently washed over with relief, as if he had just shoved off a large pile of weight from his shoulders. Peter was staring through the cracks in the floorboard, chewing his lip roughly and it was only a matter of time before he drew blood. And James was very simply looking baffled and irritated because of it.
Remus had always considered himself the only rational member of their clan ─ Sirius never thinking before he does anything, James finding himself hilarious in every situation and Peter just following the other two like a lost sheep. And so, using his rationality and ability to make smart decisions, Remus decided James deserved to know. The boy was at a dead-end, a lost cause. James should be the one to decide whether Bronwyn Ward can help him or not, not Sirius Black.
"Wouldn't it be good for him though?" Remus suggested cutting through the silence, his forehead wrinkling.
Sirius head whipped in his direction and Remus wondered why on earth he was so worked up about it. Was it because Sirius was failing at helping his best friend score a date with Lily Evans and that Peter and Remus were pointing James in the direction of someone who might? "Course not, Moony," he hissed. "It's a scam."
"It's not exactly a scam in his case." Remus tried not to smirk. Peter and James watched cautiously, both hoping Remus would come out on top.
"It's still a total rip off," Sirius said. "I can teach him more than she can."
So Remus was right ─ Sirius wanted to be the one to help. It was selfish really. And this is coming from Remus ─ someone who quite literally couldn't care that much if Lily didn't go out with James and who thought that all of this had been dramatised far too much.
Remus stared at Sirius as if to say you're not serious. "That's her whole point ─ it's from a female perspective," he said.
Peter fought the urge to join in, but seeing the look Sirius was giving Remus, he opted not to.
James looked at Sirius (grinding his teeth, clearly annoyed that Remus was inevitably right) then at Remus (nonchalantly staring into space, unaffected by Sirius' expression) and finally at Peter (nervous and uncomfortable to say the least).
James hoped Peter would give in and say more. But when neither one of them spoke again, James' patience had run dry and he was becoming a little tipped off, all the while being heartbroken. "Can you just shut the fuck up and fill me in before I slap you all?"
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