Trudging back to Gryffindor Tower, James and Sirius knew they wouldn’t be popular, so decided to head straight for their dormitory. Wormtail, at least, wouldn’t be angry about the loss of points. Wormy was never angry with his friends.
“Perhaps they don’t know yet,” said Sirius hopefully.
But as they approached the common room door, they noticed a steely look in the Fat Lady’s eyes.
“Gillyweed,” they muttered together.
She looked down on them scornfully. If there was one thing the Fat Lady took seriously, it was the honour of Gryffindor. These two lost and won more points for Gryffindor than the rest of their year, but with only two weeks of term left, the House Cup looked to be heading Ravenclaw's way. Their portrait, Dorothea Warblington “Opera Singer Extraordinaire”, which hung next to the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, would be insufferable.
“The password has changed. I can’t let you in,” she snapped.
“What, so we’re supposed to stay out here all night?” argued Sirius, ignoring the restraining hand James had placed on his arm.
“Don’t you speak to me like that, Sirius Black,” she screeched, red in the face, eyes narrowed to slits.
She turned her face away from them. James could see her taking deep breaths in an effort to regain her aplomb. After a few minutes, she decided to move frames. Twisting her head over her shoulder, she announced regally that they could wait for the Head Boy. James and Sirius sat down under the empty portrait in silence. Nearly Headless Nick floated by. Usually he would have stopped to chat to James about Quidditch because James’ dash on a broom reminded Nick of his own schooldays. Instead, he trailed his cloak through them.
“Urghhh!” shivered Sirius. “I’ll never get used to that.”
He stopped, noticing James looking intently at the departing form of the Gryffindor ghost.
“What’s up, Prongs?” he enquired.
James turned round, a puzzled look on his face. “Do the Hogwarts’ ghosts go outside?” he said suddenly.
Sirius considered. “Yeah, I’m sure they can if they want to. Why do you ask?”
“I thought I saw one, earlier, by the lake”well I think it was a ghost but not one from the castle,” he pondered, more to himself than to his friend.
Sirius lost interest. The dead, so revered by his mother, did not concern him. They sat in silence for a few more minutes then heard the slow measured steps and authoritative voice of the Head Boy.
“Yes, thank you, dear lady. I’ll deal with them soon. You go on. I just want to…er…say goodbye.”
There was a small, suspiciously female, giggle coming from an unseen companion as he lowered his voice.
James and Sirius craned their necks round the banisters to see who he was with. The Head Boy had a girlfriend. This was huge.
“Who is it?” whispered James to Sirius, who was taller than he was.
“Blimey! It’s that Hufflepuff prefect, Rowle,” whispered Sirius excitedly.
“What Alice Rowle, the shrinking violet?”
“What are you saying about my good friend?” interrupted the Fat Lady as she hurried back to her frame, unwilling to miss a moment of their dressing down.
“Who, Alice Rowle?” James was puzzled.
“No, Violet”my good friend, Violet. What were you saying about her?”
“Nothing at all,” replied James impatiently “What can you tell us about the Head Boy and Rowle though?”
The Fat Lady pursed her lips. She was deeply disappointed with these two, but still…
“Boys, you know me, I’m not one to gossip, but Frank Longbottom and Alice Rowle have been courting for four months now.”
“WHAAAAAT!” whistled James. “How did we miss that? Blimey! Frank could have anyone… why Rowle?”
The steely look re-appeared in the Fat Lady’s eyes.
“Er…what I mean is,” continued James, hurriedly, “why not a Gryffindor girl?”
She looked slightly mollified. “Alice Rowle may not be a Gryffindor, Mr Potter, but she’s kind, caring, and clever enough to be a Ravenclaw. The Fat Friar is very proud of her. Frank’s mother…” she shivered involuntarily, “I remember her schooldays, let’s just say she’s a very forthright woman. Perhaps dear Frank needs harmony in his life.” She dabbed a lace handkerchief to her eyes and sighed romantically, lost in her thoughts.
“Can’t wait to tell Moony and Wormtail,” said James excitedly. Then his face fell. “Godric, no! Wasn’t she the girl we dared Wormy to ask out this year?”
“Can’t remember,” said Sirius uncertainly.
“Yes, it was! Don’t think he ever got over the rejection,” laughed James.
“Well it was your fault for putting him up to it, boosting his confidence like that,” said Sirius scornfully.
“I didn’t think she’d turn him down,” retorted James, huffily. “I mean they’re in the same league, looks-wise, not like when he tried Sonia Slattery, who isn’t even playing the same sport!”
“Ah,” said Sirius, sighing.
“Sonia, Sonia
Your hair gets blondia
And your legs are longia
Than a Centaur’s plo…”
“Ahem,” coughed James. “Fat Ladies present.”
“I thought Miss Slattery was your girlfriend, Mr Black,” said the Fat Lady beadily.
“Old news, dear lady,” said Sirius, yawning disdainfully. “I gave her the heave-ho last week.”
“Oh,” she replied, “she doesn’t seem very upset. She was giggling all the way up the stairs tonight.”
“Well,” said Sirius. “There you have it. That’s all she does, giggle. Although strictly speaking it’s more of a cackle! It got a bit wearing on the ears after a while. Perhaps she would have suited Wormy after all.”
“I think he was keener on Rowle, though,” considered James.
“What a shame you fed him all those crap lines,” laughed Sirius.
“They were great lines,” protested James.
“Huh!” mocked his friend. “Not worked for you though, have they, Prongs?”
“ ‘Lines’ won’t work on Lily Evans!” declared the Fat Lady sagely. “She’s not swayed by charm.”
James reddened and gnawed his lower lip peevishly. ‘Did the whole of Hogwarts know?’ he wondered.
“I’m rather an expert on romance, young man. You could do no better than to ask my advice,” she chimed.
“But you’re a portrait,” James spluttered in amazement.
“Yes, but I was painted from real life and I was quite a famous beauty in my time.” A faraway look appeared in her eyes as she continued her reminiscences.
“When I was a young witch, a certain wizard who could charm Dirigible Plums from bushes set his wizard’s hat at me. However, his charm and tricks didn’t work on me. I have never been a shallow witch, Mr. Potter. What I loved was dancing”not your new-fangled steps, proper dancing. Sir Guy”that was his name”planned a masked ball. Whilst in disguise, we wouldn’t know whom we were dancing with. He hoped to woo me with his dazzling dance steps.”
“But it didn’t work?” interrupted Sirius.
“Oh yes, Mr. Black, it worked and I married him. It was the disguise that didn’t work because of the smell.”
“The smell?” interjected James.
“Of Dirigible plums, Mr Potter,” she replied. “They stink to high heaven in the summer. Surely you know that!”
“You still married him though, despite the smell?” asked James, wondering what the point was of her story
“Yes, because he tried. Discerning witches like me and Miss Evans like a bit of effort and consideration.”
She paused for effect. “Now with my third husband it was quite a different story…”
Raising their eyebrows and turning snorts of laughter hurriedly into coughs, James and Sirius sat back down, trying to ignore the Fat Lady’s tales, which were becoming more extravagant now that she had an audience.
Shortly after nine, a slightly dishevelled Frank approached them with a serious look on his face.
“Venomous Tentacular,” he said quietly. The portrait door swung open; he gestured them to follow him. Up the stairs they went, past the common room and into a dorm: Frank’s dorm. As Head Boy, Frank was entitled to his own room but he preferred to share with the same friends that he’d arrived with in his first year. He looked at the two boys and waited. There was a long pause. The atmosphere seemed to freeze. Sirius thought it very like the atmosphere at Grimmauld Place whenever he walked into a room. James cracked first.
“What do you want us to say, Frank? We can“-and will”apologise eternally, but it’s done now.”
“McGonagall, Dumbledore, and the Fat Lady have already had a go, so I guess it’s your turn,” said Sirius.
“Lads,” sighed Frank, “I’m sick of trying. You two have given me more grief than the rest of Gryffindor put together. You hate authority, you have no respect, and you think Hogwarts is merely here for your entertainment.
“But Black, after your attempt at humour last month, tricking that Slytherin boy into the Whomping Willow…you nearly got expelled! Is that really what you want?”
Sirius looked down at his wand. He knew that if he’d been expelled, his mother would have come close to committing filicide.
“We messed up. We’ve screwed up Gryffindors chances for the House Cup and I’m sorry for you, Frank. It must mean a lot to the Head Boy to win it."
He paused. “We’ll get the points back, though.”
A smile appeared on Frank’s face. “I’m relying on it, boys. Now go, please, I think you have a few more people to apologise to.”
The pair headed back to their dorm, avoiding the common room, and putting off the inevitable for one night. They found Peter lying on his bed, disconsolately kicking his headboard. A copy of his Transfiguration textbook lay face down his stomach while he lay back trying to recount spells.
“I’m sorry,” he said miserably when he saw them, “I should have come with you.”
“Oh, Wormy,” said Sirius, irritably, “if you’d come along we’d have lost even more points, and your credit with the rest of Gryffindor isn’t as good as ours.”
He swung himself onto his own bed and began blasting tiny holes in his curtains with his wand. Peter looked on in awe; the skill needed for such pinprick holes was beyond him.
“Where’s Moony?” said Peter tearing his eyes away from Sirius.
“Dunno,” muttered James, “he went off with Dumbledore.”
“Dumbledore!” exclaimed Peter. “Why? What was he doing there? Surely ‘Perfect Prefect’ wasn’t in trouble?” he sniggered, meeting James’s eye.
“Shut up!” ordered James. “We’re not calling him that anymore.”
Peter wanted to ask why, but something in James’s tone stopped him. He swallowed, and then returned to his bed and hid behind his book.
Remus came in shortly after eleven, looking thoughtful. He wouldn’t tell them what Dumbledore had said and although very quiet, he was calm. James stopped prowling the room at his return and announced his intention to go to the kitchens.
“I’m hungry, for Merlin’s sake! I skipped dinner. Anyone coming?” He noticed Remus shaking his head, incredulously. “Look I’ll take the cloak and the map with me. Is that good enough?” And donning the cloak, making sure he was completely hidden, James left the dorm.
The common room was empty; he tapped the map and studied it intently, trying to find the safest route. He checked the dots on the map; Lily Evans was standing just outside the portrait door. But prefect duty was over; whom was she sneaking out to see? He rubbed his eyes…Severus Snape! The sight of his name on the map made James yelp. He approached the door, his wand in hand; ready to strike, but was nearly knocked out by the door flying open. Lily strode in looking determined and angry. He caught sight of Snivelly’s face and itched to hex him there and then, but McGonagall’s words echoed in his head.
‘Two against one for amusement.’
He did not doubt that she would think attacking Snape from under an invisibility cloak was equally unchivalrous.
Lily had a cold, hard look on her face as she slammed the portrait door but with Snape out of sight, James saw her face crumple. She sat on a chair in the corner and wept.
The next morning James woke the others and got dressed early.
“Where’s the fire?” moaned Sirius sleepily.
“I’m starving, Padfoot. I didn’t get to the kitchens last night after all.”
“Why?” said Remus suspiciously, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. “What have you been up to?”
“Cherchez la femme!” exclaimed Sirius, leaping out of bed. “C’mon Prongs, what’s the story? Who is she? How long? And does this mean you’ve forgotten all about Lily at last?”
“It was no one,” protested James “Really, there’s no one.”
“You’re blushing,” shouted Peter. “James Potter… you devious dugbog… you’ve scored! Tell all, now!”
The scenes from yesterday could have happened a month ago. With Sirius, Remus and Peter mocking him, the atmosphere lightened. But what could he say? He hadn’t gone to the kitchens because he hadn’t wanted to leave Lily in that state. He hadn’t revealed his presence to her but had kept vigil whilst she’d sobbed into the dead of night. Then, when the weeping was done and she’d fallen asleep, he’d gently laid a blanket over her. Once or twice, he’d been tempted to stroke her red, shining hair but not wishing to scare her, he’d left her alone. In the morning she no doubt woke and thought the house elves had found her.
Ignoring their clamouring, James hurtled out of the room and down the stairs for breakfast. They charged after him, jumping down the stairs two at a time, roaring incomprehensible threats and plans to make him tell all.
But at the bottom of the stairs, James stopped suddenly. Barring his way to the main hall was the bulky figure of the Gryffindor Quidditch captain. He twitched his head to the right.
“A word, Potter!” he spat, aggressively.
James signalled for the others to go on and turned to face the burley sixth year.
“You prat, Potter,” he snarled. “I worked my socks off all year to win the Quidditch Cup and get us the lead in the House Cup, and then you and your arse of a friend cock it up.”
“You worked, Preston, you worked?” James retorted. “I thought we were a team. If any one person won us the cup it certainly wasn’t you with your morale-destroying team talks."
“What are you saying, Potter?” hissed his captain. “You reckon you won the cup single handed then, do you?”
“No.” James looked him straight in the eye. “I’m a Chaser, and a bloody good one, but I’m one person and I don’t win matches alone. I give credit to the team, but we won despite you. If any one person won us the Quidditch Cup, it was our Seeker over there. You might remember her, she’s the one you dropped against Hufflepuff in favour of your blundering best mate.”
He pointed to where fourth year Martha MacDonald was sitting with her friends, all straining to hear what the argument was about. Departing students were slowing down to listen to the row, and many more were lingering over breakfast. Even Professor McGonagall, who was not one to dawdle, seemed to be taking an inordinately long time to finish her soft-boiled egg.
“You’ve still lost us the House Cup, Potter,” spluttered Preston.
“Yeah, and that’s something I’m working on. It’s not lost yet!” said James angrily and shoulder barging the taller, burlier boy he joined the Marauders at the breakfast table.
“Preston McLaggan is the biggest GIT in the world!” he exploded. “How he became Quidditch captain… ” He stopped; it was a familiar rant which they’d heard many times before.
“Nice speech, James,” said a voice nearby.
The Marauders turned to see Mary and Lily, getting ready to leave.
“My sister will be pleased,” Mary said, winking slyly. Martha had a huge crush on James.
“Mary, Mary, Mary, my heart belongs to another,” said James, ignoring the sudden interest from his friends. “But you can tell her she’s the best Seeker I’ve ever played with.”
“When she took that snitch from right under Reg’s nose…brilliant!” said Peter, sighing happily. They all sat back remembering how Martha, even on a slower broom, had outfoxed Regulus Black, twisting and turning her way to the catch.
“How are you going to get the points back then, Potter?” asked Lily abruptly. She looked the same as always, except James could see dark circles under her eyes.
“Er, what?”
“You told Preston you’d get the points back and win Gryffindor the cup. What are you and your mates going to do? There are no lessons now for you to dazzle the teachers in and no Quidditch matches. The only things left are to save a life or…or… wrestle the giant squid! ”
“Hey, that’s a thought,” barked Sirius. “You and me, Prongs, down in the lake, rescuing Lily from the squid. Fifty points apiece, perhaps?”
“You won’t get me near the lake, Potter,” Lily snarled, seemingly unaware that it was Sirius’ idea. “Not in your wildest dreams!” She stomped off moodily.
“That’s a date then, Evans,” yelled James after her, to the giggles of the Gryffindor girls.
Lily stopped at the door, her eyes flashing furiously, her red hair dancing as if it were alive. She looked directly at James, held his gaze for a second, and then shook her head dismissively and walked away.
James smiled.
The Lions of Gryffindor by Equinox Chick
Chapter Notes: Following Professor McGonagall’s reprimand and the loss of housepoints James and Sirius return to Gryffindor Tower. They expect a hostile reception from their fellow Gryffindors so decide to skip the common room and head straight for their dormitory. However, they first have to get past The Fat Lady and she is not amused.
Many thanks to Terri (mudbloodproud) and Lyra (Lyrastearx) for beta'ing this chapter for me.
Word Count: 2911
Chapter Endnotes: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It would be great if you could leave a review.