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Paragons
of delight and uncertainty
by Raven
PG-13, het, Lily/James. James likes Lily. Maybe not as much as he likes Quidditch. She might like him, too - but unfortunately, Sirius, Remus and Peter have got it in their heads to be helpful. The Slytherins are less than amused by proceedings. Complications ensue. With grateful thanks to Pirate Perian for the thorough beta, to Hathor for the loan of her personality, and to Leigh, Tory and Meredith for the ideas.
The retelling of some events that did take place at Hogwarts’ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the summer of the year nineteen seventy-six, Anno Domini.
Chapter Ten - in which it doesn't matter what it is, just stop doing it
The Gryffindor common room had been draped in red and gold for the occasion; Sirius, James and Peter had remembered and re-used the spells they’d learnt for the Slytherins’ pseudo-Christmas. By early evening, the party was in full swing.
“You doubted me? You actually doubted me?” asked Remus theatrically. “I’m hurt, Sirius. Hurt.”
Quite uncharacteristically, Sirius had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Moony… it was just, you’d only just collided into Rosier, and so…”
“And so, I was naturally dying to do it again?” Remus asked dryly, and then relented. “I don’t blame you, Sirius. Don’t apologise.”
Sirius grinned. “I’m glad. Can I have a Chocolate Frog?”
“Help yourself.”
James listened to this conversation with a slight smile on his face, feeling slightly detached from proceedings. His mind was still whirling from the events of the last few hours. After a moment in which the whole stadium had just sat, gobsmacked, staring at Remus with the Snitch, there had been an explosion of sound and activity. The whole of the Gryffindor team had flown down to Remus, who had been somewhat unnerved by the pack of people attempting to land on his head, and the whole of the Slytherin team had flown down to Evan Rosier, who had been definitely unnerved by the pack of people baying for his blood. As the Slytherin spectators (some aiming hexes at Rosier) tramped dejectedly off to the castle, the Gryffindors had run onto the pitch, Bill Weasley had been in paroxysms of delight, and Professor McGonagall had cried. Repeatedly. Even when she came to the common room later to tell them to break up the party, she was still sniffling.
James was used to a certain amount of adulation whenever Gryffindor won; being Chaser and a good one at that, he came in for the same degree of celebrity as the rest of the team. But more than the others, it was always Kit Marlowe whose name was on everyone’s tongues, and James had never been sure if it was because he was the team captain or because he was the Seeker.
Tonight James was sure. It was because he was Seeker.
Remus lay on the floor, wrapped up in something big and red and gold. He’d joined the party late, having had to first fend off Madam Pomfrey and then somehow get the mud out of his hair. He’d tried to remain inconspicuous but failed spectacularly, as the moment he climbed through the portrait hole, people had leapt onto him. Someone had even draped a Gryffindor banner over him. Never one for prolonged physical contact, Remus had promptly lain down on the floor on top of the banner, saying that at least this way people wouldn’t be able to keep hugging him. The idea had worked, and he was now quite comfortable, being fed Chocolate Frogs by Sirius and watching the party from a horizontal viewpoint.
“Hey, James.” Remus threw another Chocolate Frog at him. “Do you want the card?”
James ate the chocolate, looked at the card and grinned. “Who on earth doesn’t have Albus Dumbledore?”
“No-one,” said Remus calmly, “but you ought to join in the party, and if I have to throw things at you all night, I’ll do it.”
James looked around him. The party was just reaching its mellow stage, and he felt comfortable enough to slip down beside Remus. “I will, I will. Just feeling tired at the moment.”
Remus was apparently not convinced, but seemed ready to let the matter drop. He threw another Frog at Sirius.
“What?” said Sirius, wheeling round.
“Get me some butterbeer?” Remus asked.
“Get it yourself!”
“Please?” Remus was doing his best to look innocent.
“Fine.” Sirius groaned and threw down the bottle. “I hope you know I’m only doing this because you caught the Snitch and therefore I have to be nice to you.”
“I know.” Remus took the cork out of the bottle with his teeth and spat it at Sirius. James stifled his laughter, then sighed. He wandered off in search of a bottle of his own, thinking. He bumped into people, but he didn’t notice.
It was nice of Remus to be worried, James decided. But he didn’t want to tell him what the matter was when Remus himself was the problem, at least in part. It was all one big mix-up. James sighed again, and replayed the afternoon in his mind. To begin with, there was Remus saying he would never, ever play as Gryffindor Seeker, then there was the moon, hanging in the sky over the pitch, waxing, and then there was Remus again, quoting Shakespeare as James led him down the stands, and then there was the match itself, blurred in James’s mind. The only moment that stood out clearly was the last one: Remus facing down Rosier without fear, holding up the Snitch.
Suddenly, James stood up and forced his hands into his pockets. He strode across the floor and dropped to be at eye-level with his friend on the floor.
“Remus, I’ve made a decision.”
“Oh, you have?” Remus’s eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Yes, I have. If you can get over your fear of the moon, and supposed fear of heights, and all of that, and actually agree to be Seeker, then play, then win, then I can… I can…”
“You can what, James?”
“I can just go up and ask her!”
He stood up. He ignored the surprised look Sirius gave him, and he took a few steps across the common room to the table where Peter had laid out the food. With sheer strength of will, he forced his powers of language to stay intact. “Um… Lily?” he began.
Lily Evans turned to face him.
“Will you go out with me?”
There, he’d said it.
Lily gazed contemplatively at him. She thought about what she knew of him. She thought of the day by the lake when he’d walked straight into her and seemed so apologetic. She thought of Snape at the prefects’ meeting, babbling incoherently about Christmas coming early. She thought of the naked Slytherins she’d giggled at. She thought of his concern for Kit, lying in the hospital wing. She thought of him as she’d seen him that afternoon, looking away because he couldn’t bear to see his friend crash into the pitch.
She looked straight into his hazel eyes, currently wide in entreaty, and decided.
“No,” she said, and blew a kiss at Remus.
James stood there for a few minutes after she’d gone. Not saying a word, just standing, he stared after her retreating form. Sirius draped a friendly arm around his shoulder. “Didn’t get the girl, mate?”
James breathed out for the first time since it had happened. “I think I’m going to kill myself.”
“As long as you’re happy,” Remus called from floor level.
“Actually, no, I’m not.” James stared at Remus as if he’d never seen him before in his life. “I’m not going to kill myself, I’m going to kill you.”
“What for? I’m not going out with her!”
“Aren’t you?”
“No!”
“But she likes you.”
“So that means you have to kill him?” Sirius asked. “Annoying as Moony sometimes is, I can’t allow you to do that, James.”
“You’re just being irrational,” Remus added soothingly.
Feeling some of his anger leave him, James allowed himself to be led to a chair and comforted. Peter handed him the box of Chocolate Frogs, and he took it, leaned back and closed his eyes.
That meant he didn’t see as Remus finally got up off the floor, pulled the banner firmly around him, and went off to have a very serious talk with Lily Evans.
In the morning, they woke James up with the tried-and-tested method of jumping on him. Before he could say a word, Remus handed him the list of conditions and sat back on his haunches, watching him read it.
James skimmed it, then read it again out loud, brow furrowed. “Stop randomly hexing the Slytherins. Stop ruffling my hair for no reason. Stop calling the first years midgets. Stop… what? I can’t read this bit.”
“It doesn’t matter what it is,” said Remus, “just stop doing it.”
James flopped down on his bed and felt himself begin to smile.
So they didn’t quite live happily every after; but they did begin that way.