the girlfriend experience, james potter
𝒔𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟕
chapter twelve, SIGNATURES AND SILENT TREATMENT
✧ ━━━ · ✦ · ━━━ ✧
JAMES COULDN'T GET TO SLEEP THAT NIGHT. He rolled around helplessly, tangling himself in his sheets until he admitted defeat, by which point he decided to pull the contract Bronwyn had given him out from his bedside table. James had read the same piece of parchment many times before ─ looking for errors and/or loopholes, passing the time, and inserting hope into his being that this might finally be the gateway to scoring a date with the girl he has been infatuated with for far too long. Now was his chance to finally sign it.
When he had arrived back at the Gryffindor common room that night, his three friends had been up waiting for him, all squashed onto a singular armchair by the fire. They bombarded him with questions; Sirius practically doused in disapproval. James had decided against showing his friends the contract, partly because of Black's lack of enthusiasm. Sirius was his closest friend, someone James relied heavily on for support, comedic relief and for the most part, his blessing. And so, James had yet left the line at the bottom blank, rid of his signature.
Until now.
Their dorm room was flooded with darkness, serenaded with Peter's snores and the light whistling of the wind from the open window beside him. James quietly drew the curtains around his bed and fetched a quill and ink pot from the side of his bed. Out of respect for his friends ─ and because the entire point of him doing it in the dead of night was so their prying eyes weren't anywhere near this contract ─ James remained in the dark, choosing not to light the candle at his disposal.
In witness of their agreement to the terms of The Girlfriend Experience as stated above, the client hereby affixes their signature:
Without any more delay, James dipped his quill into the pot of ink, and then carefully placed the pointy spike onto the line requiring his signature. With a wriggle of his hand and a second later, a squiggle now set in stone their agreement.
Printed name of client. Date.
James wrote his name in block capitals and reached over to retrieve his watch from his bedside table to check the date. It was the early hours of the morning by this point, leaving the date required a day later than the day he had received the contract.
JAMES POTTER. Monday 15th September 1977.
Still not feeling tired enough to see himself falling asleep any time soon, James fished out the rest of the documents that were attached with the contract. It included Bronwyn's timetable, ─ James shared only a few classes with the Slytherin ─ a list of all her extracurricular activities, including the days of the week and the times they took place, and then finally, a guide to her business. James discarded all the papers bar the latter, clambered out of bed, and perched himself by the window, hoping that the moonlight would act as an effective reading light.
THE GIRLFRIEND EXPERIENCE, CLIENT'S GUIDE, AND ITINERARY GO AS FOLLOWS:
Preface: Monday through to Friday, one hour shall be shared between client and marketer during a lesson time chosen based on which classes are shared between the two parties. These hours shall be confirmed by the marketer when the time comes.
Day one: First date to assess initial stance on dating and l̶u̶n̶c̶h̶ and dinner spent at the Slytherin table.
James shuddered at the thought. An action with absolutely no justification because it was, after all, James that had brought this on himself. Nonetheless, this would all need a lot of getting used to. Briefly trailing his eyes along the rest of the print, James could see where Bronwyn had made several altercations to personalise the itinerary just for him.
Day two: B̶r̶e̶a̶k̶f̶a̶s̶t̶a̶n̶d̶ lunch at the Slytherin table.
Bronwyn had scribbled something underneath this, her own handwriting standing out amongst the standard font.
this is your one and only birthday reminder, potter :)
Shaking his head, only slightly amused by her footnote, James carried on.
Day three: B̶r̶e̶a̶k̶f̶a̶s̶t̶ a̶n̶d̶ dinner at the house table of the client, followed by an evening activity of the marketer's choice.
Day four: Lunch a̶n̶d̶ d̶i̶n̶n̶e̶r̶ in a location of the client's choice.
Day five: B̶r̶e̶a̶k̶f̶a̶s̶t̶ and dinner at the house table of the client, followed by an evening activity of the client's choice.
Day six: Breakfast a̶n̶d̶ l̶u̶n̶c̶h̶ at the house table of the client. Homework/studying session in an agreed location.
Day seven: O̶N̶L̶Y̶ b̶r̶e̶a̶k̶f̶a̶s̶t̶ at the Slytherin table is r̶e̶q̶u̶i̶r̶e̶d̶ for the seventh day due to the second and final date, planned by the client for a final assessment, at their chosen time of day.
Total hours:
- 5 hours out of 25 hours of weekday lessons (Mon-Fri)
- Varying hours for weekdays outside of school hours (depends on the condition of the client)
- 4 hours on the weekend
The word date suddenly stuck out to him (the word "condition" also stood out ─ what was he, a patient? ─ but he dismissed that quickly), causing his eyes to flicker back to the top of the page again. James shuddered once more upon remembering that tomorrow was his very first date with Bronwyn Ward.
✧
"I AM WELL AWARE IT WAS YOUR DECISION, NOT MINE, BUT PLEASE, for the love of God, don't subject me to your complaining about the swine."
Andromeda Black had always been fond of Bronwyn's business, helping out in any way she could. However, upon hearing that this week's client is none other than the boy that Bronwyn whines most about in this world, ─ the loveable, James Potter ─ Andromeda isn't so convinced that this business is going to be as enjoyable as it usually is.
Bronwyn had taken their two dormmates' departure to breakfast as her queue to tell Andromeda of her weekly plans. Which technically meant her business schedule for the next seven days.
Fiddling around with her tie to make it sit nicely around her neck, Bronwyn responded with a nonchalant shrug, "I can't make that promise."
Andromeda practically threw herself back onto her four-poster bed, staring longingly at the fabric that hung above her, acting as a ceiling. "Isn't this the same kid that's so irritatingly confident it almost hurts to give him the time of day?"
"That's the one."
Andromeda propped herself up on her elbows, and looked quizzically at her friend, "So why does he need your help?"
"Because," Bronwyn drawled, flicking her hair out from where it had been tucked under her robe, "he's a menace to society and I will do everything in my power to heal the world from the reign of James Potter."
Andromeda made a face that implied she was pondering this for a moment. Finally, she pushed off from her bed, walked over to her friend, fondled Bronwyn's skew-whiff tie, and said, "Makes sense."
And that, ladies and gents, is why Andromeda Black is Bronwyn Ward's chosen right-hand man.
On the other side of the castle, in the Gryffindor common room, James Potter was trying to process the fact that it was Monday morning. Not in the sense that oh crap, it's the beginning of the week again! but more in the sense that Monday meant it was his first date with childhood friend, Quidditch nemesis, biggest James-Potter-fan-going, Bronwyn Ward, according to The Girlfriend Experience Itinerary. And he couldn't quite wrap his head around it.
"Just let me copy the introduction. I just need something to get me going."
James absently stared into the vacant fireplace, while Sirius Black followed a bothered Remus Lupin around the busy common room. "You've left it a bit late, don't you think, Padfoot?"
"Last time I checked," Sirius said, now cutting Remus off from heading back upstairs to their shared dormitory, by hopping onto the first step, and leaning up against the tiled wall, "homework isn't due until the lesson starts."
"Great," Remus said, glancing at his watch, "so you've got approximately one hour to write an entire essay. Nice work, Black."
Remus ducked under Sirius' arm and continued making his way up the spiral stairs. "Which is why I'm asking you to help a friend out!" Sirius called up the staircase, but to no avail ─ Remus had escaped his clutches. Desperate, the dark-haired boy flopped onto the vacant spot on the sofa next to James, who was yet to say anything at all this particular Monday morning, bar a few hums of acknowledgement.
"Have you done it?" Sirius asked.
"Hm?"
"Have you done Slughorn's essay?"
James was silent for a moment, causing Sirius' eyes to flicker over to the fireplace to see what was so captivating about it seeing as it had been completely enamoured by his friend. Then ─ and Sirius isn't quite sure he understood what James said due to the mumbling ─ James' mouth moved for the first time that day. "Yeah, yeah, pranks, great."
With his neck jutted out, and his brows furrowed, Sirius was utterly dumbfounded by his distracted friend. Trying to get the boy's attention, Sirius waved his hand in front of his face and nothing. James didn't so much as move an inch.
To confirm his suspicions that James wasn't listening to a word he was saying, as well as being rather frustrated that he was yet to complete his essay that was due first period without his friends' help, Sirius tried a different approach.
"Did you hear?" he asked, falling back onto the sofa more comfortably. "I shagged Evans the other day."
"Cool."
Throwing his hands up in the air, Sirius had never felt so quite offended by James Potter in his life. "You're not listening, are you? Merlin, I don't know why I even bother."
James seemed to finally jolt back into his current reality, his eyes travelling over to his angered friend. "Huh?"
"What's got you all down in the dumps this morning?"
James shrugged, debating whether or not Sirius was the best person to talk about his Monday endeavours with. "Just distracted."
"If it's about this girlfriend shit of yours, I don't want to hear about it."
Debate over. "Okay."
Despite James finally speaking words as if he were present in the same room as Sirius, Sirius was still surprised to see James with deflated spirits, looking rather glum "Shit, you're really serious, aren't you?"
Another shrug. "A little."
"I never thought I'd see the day that James Potter was rendered speechless by Bronwyn Ward." Sirius let out a long sigh. James still didn't have any words in him. Black looked over at his best friend and stared into the side of his head. "You're a prick, you know that?"
"Hm mhm."
Feeling defeated, and knowing he won't be getting anything out of James most likely not until later, Sirius stood up and headed for the exit of the common room. "I'm going to go force Wormtail to lend me his essay," he practically announced to the room, and when James didn't get up and start following him, Sirius rolled his eyes. "You making an appearance at school today or have we decided we're better than that?"
Still unable to get more than a two-word answer out of his friend, Sirius Black grumpily left James to it, in search of Peter's Potions essay, of which he was resolute to copy word for word. A plagiarized essay is better than no essay, Sirius thought.
James was still sitting in the common room when Remus headed for breakfast, and James only just got out of Gryffindor tower because Remus practically dragged him like a rag doll.
✧
"WHAT KIND OF HORSESHIT IS THIS?"
James couldn't help but cower slightly at Bronwyn's expression. He glanced down at the now signed contract he had just handed her just to make sure he hadn't given her the wrong document and instead may have accidentally slipped her his Charms homework, which was just an introduction and a series of doodles.
He gulped, falling backwards onto the wall behind him. He noticed her finger pointing towards one specific element on the bottom of the page. "My signature?"
Bronwyn's mouth was agape, as her eyes bored into his. The appalled expression on her face told him that the piece of paper might as well be one of his doodled homework sheets.
"There isn't a J or P anywhere?" She tried her best to study what she had been given and ─ although the state of his signature had no real effect on her whatsoever ─ it was deemed rather difficult due to the scribble having zero resemblance to the person who created it.
"I was in the dark, okay? Besides, it's not even that bad," James casually crossed one leg over the other, folding his arms across his chest as he dismissed her questioning with a wave of his hand.
Students began filing out of the Great Hall by this point, the breakfast period passing, and the clock clicking over to the school day. James spotted his three friends at the back of the pack, unaware of his presence. The trio strolled past in a throng of people, too caught up in the mass of the huddle to notice James and Bronwyn stood to one side on the grass patch, just out of the sun. Maybe it was best they didn't catch his wandering glance ─ this couldn't wait.
"Seventeen years old and your official signature looks like something a six-year-old did with its arsecrack?"
"It's not official."
"It is now."
James ignored the urge to roll his eyes, while Bronwyn flicked through the rest of the pile of papers, where she feared she might find the odd crossing out, where James had overstepped his jurisdiction like he apparently did so often.
The boy cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the lull that had formed around them now that the stream of people had passed. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "So um . . ."
Bronwyn lifted her eyes to meet his. Her eyebrows arched expectantly. "So um?" she echoed.
"What's the plan for later today?" he asked in one quick breath as if the question would earn him a slap across the face.
Her face relaxed. "Oh right," she said, returning her attention to making the papers into a neat pile again while confirming they were all in the right order. "Meet me in the west wing courtyard after fifth."
James didn't say anything at first, so to leave room for her to elaborate. But when she didn't, his chin jutted out. "That it?"
Bronwyn gave him a sideways glance. "Do you need me to spell it out for you?"
"No," James assured her, "just quite the enigma, huh?"
"Sort of the point," she replied with a bored expression, before shoving the papers back into James' hands, all except the contract, which was to be filed away when she got back to her dorm later that day. "I'll see you later, Potter."
Bronwyn gathered her bag onto her shoulder and stepped out of the way, readying herself to join the scattered group of students heading off to period one. But just as she hovered in James' line of vision, someone else staggered into his peripheral.
Lily Evans had her hair down today, and that was how James liked it the most. How it playfully fell in front of her beautiful green eyes and swayed when she walked. His heart leapt in his chest when he saw her passing by. But it hurt when he realised her's didn't do the same when she saw him.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. All James really wanted was for Lily to look at him the way he looks at her.
Not giving himself the chance to overthink it, James leapt forward in a rather ungraceful way, span Bronwyn round on the spot by her wrist, and planted a big, old-fashioned kiss on her cheek.
Pulling away, James peered passed Bronwyn to see whether Lily was still in his sights, but to his dismay, the redhead had already strolled on past, laughing at something Marlene McKinnon had said to her, all the while the Slytherin in front of him stood frozen, rather flabbergasted.
"Dear God, what was that for?"
Trying his best to play it cool, as if his plan to get Lily's attention hadn't just failed abysmally, James shrugged his shoulders in an unintentional manner that made it seem like he had a bug crawling around in his robes. "I'm your boyfriend for the week? Thought a goodbye kiss would be fitting?" he said with a lifted brow. Bronwyn continued on staring at him dumbfounded. "Ring any bells?"
"You thought wrong."
Shaking herself off, still rather taken aback by being suddenly kissed by James Potter, Bronwyn readjusted her bag, when she noticed the boy in front of her squaring himself up and making himself taller as he inspected the hallway behind her with squinted eyes.
Bronwyn, investigating what was so interesting to him, followed his gaze, until it landed on a familiar ginger girl, rounding the corner until she was out of sight. Bronwyn sighed disappointedly and turned back to face James. "That didn't have anything to do with her, did it, James?" she asked and the boy couldn't help but pick up on the unimpressed tone of her voice.
"No," he denied with a seriously bad lack of confidence.
"No?"
Regaining some courage, James straightened himself out. "No."
"For this to work, you're going to have to be honest with me, hun," Bronwyn said.
James reluctantly let out a large gust of air he wasn't aware he had previously been holding in. "Fine," he sighed. "I thought . . . I thought maybe it would catch her attention."
"I'm not here to make your future girlfriend jealous, Potter. I'm here to make sure you treat her right," Bronwyn told him, stifling a look of disgust that she's sure wouldn't have made him feel any better about his terrible plan.
"Yeah, I know. I got it," he said, bowing his head in defeat.
Bronwyn was just about to leave him be, but before she did, she took a step closer to him. "Oh and a word of advice?" She quirked an eyebrow and drew him in closer. "You can only catch a girl's attention if she has any desire to give you it. And I can assure you, Lily Evans does not want to waste her breath on you."
James' posture suddenly became impressively tall, and his chin lifted in a bout of self-conviction, which he held onto when he responded to her warning, "That's only temporary."
"Merlin I wish I had your confidence," Bronwyn replied, only to cause James' smirk and ego to grow simultaneously that much bigger. "Come on then," she moaned, something having dawned on her in the last few minutes of their encounter.
A hint of confusion washed over him. "What?"
In Bronwyn's defence, she never thought she'd see the day when James Potter officially became one of her clients. Since the birth of her business, she had always either a) assumed that James would forever be the confident swine he is and therefore never admit that he needed her help, or b) refused to believe that she would ever do him any favours, money or not.
And so, that is why you can excuse her for briefly forgetting that James is supposed to remain in her company for one hour out of five hours of lesson time a day, and that hour happened to be first-period Potions. Never mind that she's the marketer, she'd have expected James to have studied the documents she gave him last night long and hard. He should remember too.
"We've got a lesson to attend," Bronwyn responded as if she never forgot it in the first place. She smiled sarcastically before adding, "together."
✧
SIRIUS BLACK, ALTHOUGH STILL A LITTLE PISSED OFF BY HIS BEST FRIEND'S IDIOCY, had finally had his spirits lifted when James had started to show signs that he hadn't actually died inside. The September sun beat down on the group of boys, reflecting off of the vast surface of the black lake. The four of them had found the shore made for a perfect location to spend their free periods, and Remus did love the view.
Fifth period had arrived and while Bronwyn wasted away her time in Divination with the Hufflepuffs, the four Gryffindors had a free period and were using their time usefully, catching up on some homework they had no doubt left quite last minute. Except for Remus, of course. Punctual Remus was reading a book recreationally.
A silence had settled, each of them absorbed in their various tasks and Sirius saw this as his opportunity to kick-start a group conversation ─ the first legitimate one of the day, which was strange considering they were such a rowdy group of boys. At least according to . . . well the entire student body.
Their four lesson day, in addition to James' distracted self and the approaching full moon, meant the group of friends had engaged in little to no conversation with each other. After being separated in Potions (James being glued to Bronwyn Ward for the entirety of the lesson), Peter running off with some girl during lunch, leaving Sirius in a prolonged silence with his two ─ understandably so ─ quiet friends, there hadn't been much chance for a catch-up. Sirius needed a catch-up.
"I was thinking we could try our chances on nicking some snacks from the kitchens tonight, what do you think?" he was grinning from ear to ear, unbeknown to how unsuccessful his suggestion was going to be.
"Lily and I are studying in the library, tonight, sorry," Remus responded, almost as if he were on autopilot.
James' ears practically soared at the sound of his dearly beloved. His eyes shot from where they were once focused on his sketch for Herbology, over to his friend sitting cross-legged across from him. "You what?"
"Forgetting your English today, are we, Prongs?" Remus teased, his gaze unwavering from his book.
"Maybe," James said exasperatedly. "Just not quite comprehending why I wasn't invited to your little study date with my future girlfriend?"
"Lily said, and I quote, please don't bring Potter along. I like my sanity too much."
This Girlfriend Experience malarkey better work if James wanted to keep his sanity.
Remus' study session with Lily didn't hurt so much in the sense that she had asked in advance for James not to be there, because James already had plans (plans he would most definitely make Bronwyn alter because Lily comes first. Bronwyn would understand, right? It is her job) but it hurt more in the sense of Remus' lack of defending James when Lily declared his insanity.
Remus was rather amused by James' baffled expression when he finally trained his eyes to look at his friend, who was now pushing himself closer towards the tree's trunk as if to stabilise himself after this shocking news.
"Charming."
"She'll come around, mate," Sirius offered. "Until then, kitchens?"
James arched an eyebrow disappointingly, recollecting his things from where they had collapsed under his sudden movements. "Can't. I've got a date," he responded tiredly.
"I'm very confused," Peter spoke for all of them ─ Remus and Sirius left without words, and so instead, stared blankly at an unphased James.
"Oh for fuck's sake, I'm not that undateable am I? It can't be that difficult to understand that I can have a date with someone that's not Lily Evans."
"I don't think you ever will go on a date with Lily Evans."
Remus would have kept his mouth shut if he knew a hefty textbook was going to be lobbed in his direction two seconds later. He still stood by what he said.
Remus chose his next words carefully. "Care to explain who it is you are going on a date with today prior to your lifelong romance with our dearest Lily then?"
Still wearing a childish stroppy expression, James answered. "Bronywn." The eyes grew wider and the silence that followed was very very loud. James felt the need to hastily explain. "It's part of the experience. I would have thought that was obvious. You don't actually think I would go on a date with Bronwyn fucking Ward if it wasn't for research purposes, do you?"
Remus spared James an unbothered glance before returning to his book. Sirius' forehead was lightly creased. "What else is she making you do?" he asked distastefully.
"She's not making me do anything," James said scornfully. "I'm doing this all willingly, you know."
Sirius sighed, discarding his school work onto the ground beside him. He carefully laid back, pulling Peter's school bag towards him and strategically placing it behind his head, so it could act as a pillow. Sirius basked comfortably under the afternoon sun. "And herein lies the problem, Prongs."
If today's brief sighting of Lily Evans was enough to go on, James knew this was how he was going to obtain the knowledge he needed to earn a date with the girl of his dreams, and he was going to go forward with it, if Sirius was on board or not. And seeing as he clearly wasn't, James opted to not bring it up again.
With perfect timing, Peter changed the subject swiftly. "What did you put for question seven on the Dark Arts quiz?"
Remus rolled his eyes, before lurching forward and taking the parchment from Peter's hand.
Not only had they had this question twice before on a quiz, but Remus was also confused as to whether Peter paid any attention to life whatsoever. Question seven read as follows:
Give five signs that identify the werewolf.
"I know I shouldn't say this," Remus sighed, looking at his doe-eyed friend, "but I am deeply offended."
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