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.