Chapter 3
James sits up slowly, brushing sleep out of his eyes and yawning. He reaches over to his nightstand and grabs his glasses, putting them on and standing. He pushes out of the curtains around his bed and quietly steps through the room, careful not to step on any of the random shit on the floor. His bare feet squirm under the cold tile of the bathroom floor as he splashes cold water on his face and brushes his teeth.
“Today’s the day,” he whispers to himself, staring his deep brown eyes down in the mirror. He throws some joggers and a jumper on before attempting to comb his hair- which fails as usual- before putting on his socks and shoes and quietly leaving his sleeping friends in the dorm. He pads down the stairs and out of the common room, humming to himself as he makes his way down to the quidditch pitch. It’s dark in the hallways, he can barely see his hands in front of his face. He shoves his hands in his pocket to get his wand- fuck. he didn’t have his wand. Of course he forgot his wand. Fucking typical of him. A great start to what was now sure to be a shit day. Bravo James. He trods carefully down a moving staircase and out the doors. Once outside, the light of the half moon still in the sky lights the way to the quidditch pitch. James takes a deep breath and looks around, appreciating the peaceful quiet of Hogwarts in the early morning. He yawns, running his hand through his hair as he walks down to the pitch. Merlin, he was exhausted. He got an entire five hours of sleep that night too- why was he so bloody tired? His feet hit the sandy ground of the quidditch pitch and he sighs, bending over to stretch.
“Get it together. Today’s the day,” he mutters before taking off in a light jog around the pitch. As the moon sinks lower and the sky begins to brighten, his light jog gets faster and faster, until he’s lapping with ease around the quidditch pitch. He slows to a jog again once he’s completed his laps and takes off his glasses to wipe the sweat off his face. He takes a seat on the bleachers and stretches again to cool down, watching the sun rise and re-hydrating. He stands, a grimace on his face to match the knots in his stomach. “Fuck. Today’s the day,” he says with a sigh as he takes in the bright colors of the morning sky before jogging back up the hill to shower.
Walking through the halls up to Gryffindor Tower, he nods or smiles at the few people he passes in the hallways, his grin never faltering, despite the nausea building up in his stomach and the quickening pace of his heartbeat. He reaches his dorm and quietly opens the door and closes it behind him. He rummages around for his quidditch robes and a clean pair of pants before heading to take a shower. He closes his eyes as the steaming hot water runs over his body, humming to himself. His brain runs and bounces around in his head at incalculable speeds as he washes his hair, but he takes a few deep, slow breathes- remembering to do them in ‘squares’ like how his mum taught him. In for four seconds, hold it for four seconds, and out for four seconds. ‘Technically, they were more like triangle breaths than squares, because you did the counts of four, not four counts of four if you really think about it.’ he had said to his mum, who just shook her head with a smile.
He wasn’t ready for today. His team was fine- they were more than fine, really. They were ready. But James wasn’t. Physically, he was, he supposed. But he just needed more time to get in the right headspace for the season- something that always bothered him. He loves quidditch and loves to play, but this was different. He wasn’t just playing for fun, he was playing for his house. For his friends. For Marlene, who applied to the Harpies as soon as she turned 16 last year. Everything rode on this season, on him. And that- just took some getting used to is all.
He rinses his hair and steps out of the shower with these thoughts swirling around his head. He dries off and slowly dresses, swallowing the lump in his throat and running his hand through his still damp hair. He gives himself a half-hearted smile and a wink in the mirror before stepping out into the dorm room. He grins at Remus and a half awake Peter, both of whom seem to have just woken up.
“Morning lads,” he says cheerfully- ignoring the urge to grimace.
“Mornin,” Peter mumbles from his bed, face buried in his pillow.
“Morning, Prongs, today’s the day, isn’t it,” Remus says, smiling as he pulls on a soft, green and brown jumper.
“It is, indeed, Moony. It is the day.” James replies. He walks over to the far side of the room, opening the curtains and peering over a sleeping, drooling Sirius. “Got the time, Moons?” he asks quietly.
“Half past seven.”
Damn. He had a long shower then.
“Right. Well, best get on with it.” James mutters before dramatically pushing Sirius’ curtains open and leaning over his best mate. “Sirius. Padfoot, mate. C’mon it’s half past seven. We’re gonna miss breakfast,” he coos, wiping some of the drool off Sirius’ face.
“Mmm. Don’t care, not hungry,” Sirius mumbles.
“It’s the first match of the season, today, Pads. You’ll need some food in you to properly cheer Gryffindor on.” Nothing. Not even a hum of acknowledgment. James sighs.“ And it’s against Slytherin, remember? You’ll get to see your brother play.”
At the mention of the rival Quidditch match, Sirius opens one eye. “You’re playing Reggie today?” he asks, his voice soft, still hoarse from sleep.
James smiles down at his best mate, reminded of the first time Gryffindor played Slytherin once Regulus was on the team. Sirius had been so nervous he puked twice, froze up out on the pitch, and, in the process of trying not to hit Regulus with one, accidentally hit James square in the shoulder with a bludger, knocking him off his broom. He must have apologized twenty times once the game was over - they lost- ten more while James was in the hospital wing getting his shoulder fixed up, and another forty times the next morning when James had found him sitting in the loo, tears streaming down his face.
“I just couldn’t- I can’t do it, Prongs. I can’t hurt him. He’s my baby brother,” he had hiccuped out.
“ I know Pads. It’s alright,” James had said softly.
“No,” Sirius shook his head. “It’s not, because- Reggie’s my brother and- well, you are too, Prongs. In every way that matters at least.” He buried his face in his hands. “So, in the process of not hurting one brother, I’ve mucked it all up and nearly killed another.”
Now, nearly four years later, James can still see that anxious look in his eye whenever Regulus has a match, or when he sees his brother practicing, making dives for the snitch that no other teams’ Seeker would dare to attempt. James leans over and plants a dramatic kiss onto Sirius’ forehead.
“Yes, it’s Gryffindor against Slytherin, Pads. So get your arse up so we can leave for breakfast,” he says, grinning as Sirius groans and sits up.
“It’s too early for this. You’re so lucky I love you,” Sirius says as he stands up and throws the nearest set of clothes on. In this case- black distressed jeans, one of James’ ABBA t-shirts- which was definitely too big on him- and his worn black leather jacket.
“You’re wearing that?”
Sirius frowns. “What’s wrong with it?” he asks, before looking down and groaning.“Let me find a different shirt. Maybe one with a decent band on it.”
James just smiles and shakes his head leaning against the wall while he waits.
“ ‘M ready,” Sirius says after spending twenty minutes doing his hair and pulling his boots on.
“Did you brush your teeth?” James asks.
“Shit- no. Be right back.”
James drums his fingers against his leg. The dorm was quiet, except for the running water in the loo, and the overpowering beating of James’ heart in his ears. Peter and Remus had already gone down to breakfast, leaving James and Sirius to their own devices. A stupid idea, really. They ought to know better than that by now.
James smiles to himself at the thought, trying to subdue the overwhelming sense of dread filling him. He got like that sometimes; terrified of things that most people tend not to care about. Quidditch games, especially the first games of the season, were a big one. His anxiety, as mum had called it back in third year, really sort of surfaced after James and Sirius had their first real fight. He had gone to Minnie for help with some transfiguration work the next day, and all of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe right. His chest was too tight for his lungs and his heart was beating too fast for him to handle and soon he was shaking and crying in front of his favorite professor, asking to call his mum on the Floo.
Once he had finally calmed down enough to speak, he talked through the fight with his mum, who concluded that he wasn’t that upset over the fight- it was a stupid fight really but they had never actually fought before- but more worried that Sirius would never forgive him. Today, James can’t even remember what they had fought about, he only remembers the sickening dread that filled him for those long, miserable two days they had gone without talking to each other.
Sirius walks up to James and throws his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, snapping him out of his head.
James startles. “Merlin’s fucking balls, Pads. You scared the life outta me,” he says, placing a hand on his chest.
“Not my fault you scare so easily, Prongs,” Sirius says with a shrug and a grin before dragging James down the stairs and out of Gryffindor Tower.
By the time they get to the Great Hall for breakfast, the halls are packed with fellow students, all buzzing with excitement for the first game of the Quidditch season. James puts on his widest smile, waving and nodding at everyone who waves at him or wishes him luck. The sheer force of all the nerves and excitement in the halls is enough to make James sick. Literally. He has to hold his breath just to walk through the halls without vomiting on Sirius. When they finally enter the Great Hall, he sighs, gripping Sirius’ hand. He feels his breath getting shallower as he follows Sirius through the Hall to their usual seats in the middle of Gryffindor Table.
“Morning all” James flashes a smile to his friends, settling down with Mary on his other side. She looked radiant as usual in her quidditch robes, her hair tied back with red and gold ribbon, and makeup matching their house colors. She smiles at him, pushing a plate that someone- probably Remus- had already made up for him.
“Cheers Macdonald, looking splendid as usual.” he says, trying to push down the bile rising in his throat.
“Not so bad yourself, Potter. Ready to kick arse today?”
He grins as Mary pinches his cheek, albeit half heartedly.
“You bet,” he says, shoving around the food with his fork, pretending not to feel like his heart was gonna explode out of his chest. Fuck- what was wrong with him? He loved quidditch! Anyone who even glanced in his direction knew that- so why did he dread today so much? He fiddles with his fork while Sirius yammers on to Mary about one thing or another- he’s not sure what. James sighs, managing to chew on a piece of toast and get it down before Sirius elbows him in the side.
“Christ- what was that for?” he says, flinching.
“You were moping- I was trying to get your attention by talking about the game, but MacDonald seems to be the only one interested and you were staring at your toast like it insulted your mum. So I elbowed you. And it worked. Snapped you right out of it,” Sirius says, popping a grape into his mouth with a grin.
“Why must we always resort to physical violence?” James says, a small smile on his face as he rubs his side. Sirius just shrugs.
“Don’t fix what ain’t broke, Prongs. If it works it works. Now back to quidditch- I don’t think you lot have shit to worry about really. The slimy gits don’t have a chance since they lost their keeper and the only bloke who tried out’s a fourth year- poor bastard won’t know what hit him! ”
James nods along as Sirius talks, not really meaning to tune his best friend out, but his thoughts were otherwise occupied. As James looked up from his food, something towards the front of the hall grabbed his attention. Regulus was walking in, dressed in his silver and green quidditch robes. Every Slytherin he passed as he walked to join his friends gave him a pat on the back or wished him luck. All Regulus did was nod and glare as more and more people clapped him on the back. And yet- he still looked perfect- glare and all, longer hair pulled back into a small half-up half down look, a few strands of his curly black hair framing his face. James just watched, entranced- and a little scared. That was the most terrifying thing about Regulus- not that he was just flat out mean and cold to James. No. Actually he quite enjoyed that for some reason. The most frustrating, terrifying, anxiety inducing thing about Regulus Black was how perfect he seemed to be. Everything about him radiated perfection- from his grades to his Quidditch skills, to his fucking face. His eyes were so blue, so clear and piercing they send shivers down James’ spine with every glare. The man was so beautiful it had to be a crime. It made sense though. Sirius was objectively attractive as well, but Regulus- Oh, nothing about Regulus’ beauty was objective. And frankly, it scared James shitless. But he was starting to think he enjoyed that for some reason as well.
“Prongs? James? Oi, did you trip and hit your head on your jog this morning?” Sirius says, waving his hand in James’ face. James blinks and startles, looking back over at him.
“Wha- sorry, got lost in here,” James says, tapping his forehead and smiling reflexively. “You were saying?”
“Actually, I was saying.”
James looks over to see Lily sliding into the seat next to Remus and smiles softly.
“Oh, sorry Lils. You were saying?”
“Just good luck today. From what they say, you may need it,” Lily says, a half smirk playing on her pink lips. She was joking. James knew that. But something in James made his stomach drop. Fuck, they’re going to lose. He was going to lose. He was going to fuck it up, and Gryffindor was gonna lose. James grips his fork so tight his knuckles go pale. He forces a grin that barely reaches his eyes.
“Well we’ll see about that won’t we, Evans?” he says. Lily smiles at him, her beautiful, radiant smile. One that James had only been able to see since he got over his ridiculously long crush on her and they finally got to be friends. Don’t get him wrong, he still thinks he and Lily would have been great together, and he’ll always love her, but after almost six years, he finally gave up. And lucky him, because now he gets to joke around and get her to grin at him, that beautiful, contagious grin that made his insides warm from the kind of love you only have for one of your closest, most treasured friends. That smile was almost enough to combat the pit of nausea building up in him. Almost.
James steals another glance over at the Slytherin table. He sees Regulus sitting away from the rest of the Slytherin quidditch team and with some of his friends; the blonde boy, Rosier, Dorcas Meadowes, and a blonde girl with eyes so blue they seemed fake. James racks his brain, but can’t for the life of him come up with her name. Ledona? Lestra? He shakes his head, focusing back on Regulus. He had a small smile on his face and his head was ducked low, like he was trying to hide it from the world. James frowns to himself. Regulus never smiles like that or laughs at any of his jokes. Mind you- most of the jokes are horrendous and only Sirius and Marlene would ever laugh at them, but still. Why does Regulus never smile at James?
The little breakfast James was able to eat churns dangerously in his stomach. He always got like this before big games- nauseous, jittery, spacey. Well, technically he was always nauseous, jittery and spacey, but it always got worse before a quidditch match. But once the match starts and his feet leave the ground, it’s almost as though James is a different person. The nausea dissipates almost instantly and his head feels clearer than it could ever be with his feet planted firmly on the ground. Something about flying just frees James. It unties the noose of havoc from his neck and lets him breathe. Really truly breathe. Something he was having quite a bit of trouble with as he walked out onto the pitch with the rest of his team.
Marlene bumps her shoulder against his with a grin.
“Alright there, Captain?” she says.
James looks over at her, dragged away from his train of thought.
“Hmm? Oh yeah, yeah. Just focused. You?”
“Better than ever.” She winks and rushes ahead and throws her arm around Emmaline.
James watches them chat and laugh as they gather around on the pitch, waiting for the game to start. James walks up to Madam Hooch and Lucinda Talkalot, the Slytherin Quidditch captain. Hooch gives them her same old lecture on a fair game, at which Lucinda grins and winks at James. Hooch has them shake hands and wish each other luck, which James does on autopilot.
James doesn’t really know what he does after that. Sure he can guess, based on the fact that he’s flying through the air with the quaffle in his hands, but he doesn’t actually remember the blow of the whistle. Or scoring the last three times. He blinks rapidly, dodging a bludger narrowly and maneuvering around Meadowes, one of the Slytherin beaters, and making his way across the pitch. His head spins as he speeds across the pitch, his previous nausea fading away as he lets himself take a deep breath and listen in on the crowd of students screaming at the top of their lungs and Remus’ voice ringing out, describing his every move. Two of his opposing chasers corner him and he drops the quaffle- right into Marlene’s waiting arms and she speeds across the pitch and scores. And everything after that is a blur.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
Regulus closes his eyes as he hovers in the air and takes a deep breath feeling the wind on his face. The wind whips through his hair and raises bumps on his arms as he shivers and breaks out into a small smile. He was home.
“And that’s another score for Gryffindor by James Potter and Marlene Mckinnon. Right on to them, as usual.” He hears Lupin’s voice ring out across the pitch and his eyes snap open. James fucking Potter and Mckinnon. They were currently high fiving and grinning ridiculously after making their fourth score on Slytherin.
Regulus rolls his eyes as Mckinnon flies past him and blows him an exaggerated kiss. So the Gryffindor chasers were better than the Slytherin ones. Regulus wasn’t about to deny that, especially to his idiot teammates. But that didn’t mean they were going to win. Regulus glances over at Dorcas across the pitch who seems to be glaring at a winking Potter.
The two chasers met up again and did some stupid, complex handshake that of course they had because they’re fucking ridiculous. Regulus makes eye contact with a scowling Dorcas who mimics slicing her own throat. He smirks, nodding to her beater's bat and then back at Potter.
‘Hit him. Hit him with a bludger.’ he mouths.
‘No promises.” She mouths back, flashing him her winning grin.
Regulus flies back up above the rest of the pitch, watching the chaos his team calls quidditch. Godric, they were shit this year. Their new keeper- a blundering fourth year idiot- was nothing compared to Gryffindor offensive maneuvers. They were just going to have to win the way they always do. Him. Was it pretentious to say that his team only won because of him? Maybe. Was it true anyway? Almost certainly.
A blur of red flying past him gets his attention. Emmaline Vance, the Gryffindor seeker, came to a halt not six feet from him. Did they not teach proper fucking quidditch etiquette on that team? She was supposed to look for the bloody snitch on her own- not so close to him he could practically feel her breath on him.
“What are you doing over here, Vance? Can’t find the snitch on your own?”
The girl just smiled at him like she knew something he didn’t. “Rude. Can’t I just say hi?” she said, wind whipping her raven fringe around her face.
He shot her a look. “Now isn’t exactly the time for pleasantries. Not that I’d exchange them with you if it were.” he snapped, pointedly looking away from her. Bloody Gryffindors. Not everyone wants to fawn over them. She doesn’t say anything to that, just sits there, watching him while he watches the pitch.
After a few minutes, it really starts to get on his nerves. It was weird. And awkward. What stupid kind of meddling was she up to?
“Do you plan to breathe down my neck the whole game or can I go back to winning now?”
She laughs- not a scoff or a sarcastic laugh- but a real laugh, like he said something funny. His brows knit together and he glares. The girl just smiles a broad, cocky smile.
“Mmm, sure. Winning is what you call this? I do believe the score is about a hundred to twenty now. But I could go. I’d hate to stop you from er- ‘winning’.” She says, putting air quotes around the word before flying in front of him and stopping, blocking his view from the pitch.
Stupid fucking Gryffindors. Regulus cranes his neck, trying to see around her with a frown.
“What are you doing?” he hisses.
Emmaline shrugs. “Dunno. What’s wrong with a little face to face, Black?”
“You’re in my way.”
“I know.”
“So move.”
“Hmmm. Don’t really have to, do I? Nothing in the rules about having a little chat. Besides, you don’t need to see all that. ‘Sntich’ll show up eventually.” She says, ignoring Regulus’ huff.
A loud cheer breaks out in the crowd and she claps.
“Oooo listen, your lot scored. Bravo. Didn’t think Macdonald was giving away freebies now!” she says, giving the Gryffindor keeper - who just flips her the bird- a pointed look.
Regulus frowns and crosses his arms. resisting the urge to shove her off her broom. Wouldn’t be worth the foul penalty Hooch would give him. He could just fly away, yes. But she’d probably follow him. And there was no point in letting her chase him around, even if she was blocking his view of Pot- what? No. He shakes his head. Of the pitch. That’s what he meant. He didn’t give a rat’s arse what Potter was doing- quidditch related or otherwise.
“That’s a bloody good score from James Potter! Which brings the score to a hundred and sixty to forty with Gryffindor on top. As per usual.” Regulus hears Lupin’s voice ring out over the pitch, smug satisfaction in his voice.
Fuck. Regulus swears under his breath, pulling up on his broom and flying above Vance, who’s too busy looking at her teammates' antics- they were doing another stupid handshake- to notice. He squints, eyes darting around for the snitch. He was going to have to get this over with fast, while he had the chance. His eyes flit around the pitch- before landing on James Potter’s stupid grin. Sweat was pouring down his face, hair stuck to his forehead, glasses half slipping off. But he didn’t seem to mind- the prick seemed to be having the time of his life. Regulus frowns, urging himself to pay attention. Just as he’s about to pull his gaze away, he sees it. The beautiful and ever elusive golden snitch. Hovering right by James Potter’s face. Regulus sighs. He supposed it was now or never, but he really doesn’t want to.
“Oi, Black! I wasn’t done talking to you!” Vance calls out, flying up to block his view again.
Regulus just sighs and glares at her. “Goodbye now.” He says rolling his eyes and diving for the snitch. He hears her swear and dive after him, but it’s too late. He has a good three second head start. And he knows where he’s going.
“And Regulus Black seems to have spotted the snitch! He’s diving for it! Or- well it seems as though he’s flying directly at Gryffindor chaser, James Potter.” Lupin’s magically megaphoned voice says.
Regulus doesn’t even roll his eyes at that. Of course that’s what it looks like- the snitch is right next to his stupid face and the idiot didn’t even notice. Regulus stretches his arm out, slender fingers itching to feel the snitch in his hand. His heart beats fast as the wind whips in his ears, his hair falling in his face as he speeds towards the snitch, which still hovers calm, right next to Potter's face. If Regulus had time to think, he would have thought it was odd, the snitch being so still for that long. But he doesn't; he just barrels forward, coming to a stop just before slamming into Potter, his fingers easily snatching the golden snitch out of the air.
His chest swells with pride as he raises the snitch in the air, a small smirk on his face. The crowd bursts into a chorus of cheers and boos as Lupin announces the win for Slytherin.
“A close one too- hundred and ninety to hundred and sixty. Slytherin certainly owes their win to Black.”
Bloody right they did.
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
Going to the party had been Sirius’ idea. A dumb idea. The worst of all possible ideas. Why the hell would James even show his face in the Slytherin common room when he’d just spectacularly lost the first game of the season? To Slytherin of all teams! He was dreading it. Dread didn’t even begin to compare to the feeling settling into the pit of his stomach as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, letting Sirius do his eyeliner.
“Don’t understand why we’re even going. They don’t want me there, mate- I’m the captain of their rival team.”
Sirius just chuckles. “Yeah and they beat you today. They’ll want you there to fuel their egos if nothing else. Plus, I asked Reggie if I could bring you. He said it was fine. Or something like that.”
James opens one eye.
“He said it was fine?”
“Well- yeah basically.” Sirius says, capping the eyeliner and using his thumb to smudge it up a bit. “I asked if I could bring friends and he just asked who. I told him- you, Moony, Pete and the rest of the team that’s in our year- he said sure.”
“I don't believe you. He hates me.”
“He hates everyone. Just don’t talk to him if it bothers you so much.”
James sighs as Sirius finishes up. He knew they weren’t gonna win- he did, deep down. But it still felt bad. Devastating even. He wasn’t a bad sport, he’d go to the party and congratulate Reglus and the rest of the team, then he’d get pissed. Beyond pissed- blackout drunk even. Maybe then his heart would stop beating so bloody fast. His heart rate had been shot since the game, really. He can’t stop remembering hovering there, unable to move as Regulus battered toward him, arm outstretched, hand poised to catch the snitch. For a fleeting moment James had thought Regulus was flying at him. That his hand was reaching for James’ neck, not the glittering gold ball James hadn’t even noticed by his head. And it had been terrifying- but not how you’d expect. It scared James out of his mind, sure. But it thrilled him, too. So much so that in that fleeting moment, he welcomed the idea. That was until he realized exactly what was happening and Gryffindor had officially lost their first game of the year. And all because he didn’t notice that the snitch was right next to him. Had he realized and moved, maybe it would have flown away. Maybe then, Gryffindor wouldn’t have lost. He wouldn’t have lost.
Everyone else seemed excited for the party. Well, everyone who wasn’t on the team. Mary and Marlene seemed alright enough when they met up in the common room, but Emmaline seemed to be in the same, self-blaming boat as James. The two of them walked behind the others, watching as Sirius tried to get Remus to let him jump on his back and Remus promptly pushed Sirius away- and into Marlene. Which set off a loud argument about nothing.
“At least they’re having fun,” James hears Emmaline mutter, her head down and looking at her shoes, dark hair blocking her face from view. James hums in agreement as Peter and Lily try to get Marlene and Sirius to stop yelling at each other. Marlene reaches around Lily to pull on Sirius' hair, sticking her tongue out and James and the other Marauders all let out gasps.
“Ooh she’s in for it now,” he mutters, nudging Emmaline. She looks up, her hair falling out of her face and James can see that she’s been crying. His heart sinks at the sight of her red, puffy eyes.
“Oh, Em. You know that losing wasn’t your fault. If anything it was a group effort between the two of us.” he says, giving her a smile.
Emmaline just nods. “Right. Yeah. We can be at fault together. But if I wasn’t so focused on getting a stupid rise out of him, then-”
“Oh come on, none of that. Not your fault.”
“But-“
“Mm still not your fault”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.” she says, fighting a smile.
James just shrugs. “Don’t need to. Wasn’t your fault then, still not your fault now.”
She smiles at him and knocks their shoulders together, which he does back. They keep walking in silence as Remus finally lets Sirius up onto his shoulders to keep him and Marlene from arguing.
“Prongs look at me! I’m tall!” he shouts, waving down at him.
“Moony, if you keep indulging him he’s never gonna learn to cope with being vertically challenged.” Peter says, smiling at Remus, who laughs.
James shoves his hands in his pockets as they reach the dungeons. He didn’t feel right. He looks down at his outfit- flared denim jeans, his ‘The Cure’ shirt, and his red Converse All Stars. He had wanted to wear his favorite shirt but Sirius had vetoed it (Come on, Prongs, the bright red shirt AND red shoes? In the Slytherin common room? That’s like- too much Gryffindor pride. It's like having a sign on your back that says ‘hex me’ Absolutely not. ) and so he felt- odd. That shirt was sort of like his comfort blanket- he wore to everything that could possibly make him feel overwhelmed. And without it today, he feels sort of naked. Naked and nervous and ready to go back to his dorm.
After another ten minutes of walking Lily speaks up.
“Sirius, are you lost?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. It’s just that we passed the entrance like three minutes ago,” She says pointing back to a small corridor they just passed.
“Well- what why- why didn't you say something?” Sirius splutters.
Lily shrugs with a smile. “I just wanted to see if you noticed. And you didn’t. Shame.” she says.
Sirius pouts from Remus’ shoulders. “Fine then, Evans. Lead the way if you’re so smart.”
Lily whips around and walks back toward the entrance, everyone else close behind. James hesitates, fidgeting with the thin chain necklace he was wearing. Mary stops as she’s about to turn the corridor, poking her head back around.
“You alright, lovely?” she says.
“Yeah- just needed a second.” James says, following her.
She links her arm in his. “Come on, winners or losers, we’re going to get in there and have some fun, yeah?”
James nods.
“Good. No more moping.” she says, pushing the slightly ajar, thick stone door. The door swings open and reveals an absolute rager of a party. The lights are all down and someone’s charmed the few candles around the room to give off green light. Music that James had never even heard before blasts through the room, shaking the walls.
“Holy shit. They sure know how to have a party.” Mary yells over the music. They push through the crowd, scanning the room. The close quarters on the makeshift dance floor make James feel like he’s suffocating. People bump into them, stepping on his shoes as they make their way to the drinks.
“You want something?” Mary says, still loud.
James nods. She quickly makes them both a drink and hands his to him. James takes a sip and winces.
“God, Mar, that’s positively awful.”
“Maybe, but it’ll get you drunk faster.” she says with a shrug and wink.
Fuck it. James downs it in one, immediately regretting it. It burns all the way down and makes his eyes sting.
“Jesus Christ. Don’t even tell me what’s in that. And don’t make me another, please,” he says, coughing while she just laughs at him.
They stand by the drinks table, watching the room full of Slytherins and the occasional member of another house. While most of the people are dancing, a few small groups are piled into sofas, chairs and bean bag chairs smoking weed or drinking and talking. James searches the room for his friends but only sees vaguely familiar faces laughing or dancing, or the odd couple snogging in a corner. James turns to see if Mary’s seen anyone they know- only to find that he’s now standing by himself. He was alone in a room full of people he didn’t know- all of whom were predisposed to hate him based on house loyalty. And the fact that his friend group had been pranking members of their house to get at Snape for years was probably not going to help his case.
Oh fuck him. This party was not going to be fun.