: 22nd September, 1975Characters
: James Potter, Lily EvansLocation
: The OwlryStatus
: James and Lily have an hour in the tower.Completion
It was a cool morning, the brisk feeling of the cold finally beginning to descend and make its way through James' robe and his faded Gryffindor scarf as he glanced around for his owl. All around him, birds were arriving back from their night's hunts, beginning to doze off or finishing their captive meals, a soft cacophony of rustling feathers and clicking beaks accompanying low, gentle hoots. He had two letters clutched between his fingers, one a letter home, updating them on his progress at school and simply keeping in touch. The other...well...that was something different.
Before they'd gone to help Remus deal with his furry little problem last night, Sirius had decided to embark upon a crusade of merciless teasing that would have made even McGonagall blush (James still wasn't convinced that she could do anything but frown disapprovingly - he was sure it was the ginger newts). Apparently the boy had decided that James was acting all-too responsible these days, what with his rounds and his rotas and, as he'd put it, "the amount of time you've wasted with that Evans girl that could have been spent on more worthwhile endeavours". Of course, much to the boy's chagrin, any time he'd had with the girl recently hadn't been used for the usual one-sided (although he liked to convince himself that it went both ways) flirting, but for dealing with student problems, sorting out prefects, liaising with the staff and a whole host of other issues.
And the homework, oh Merlin, the homework. He would have thought that they'd be cut a little slack in their final year, but no. Apparently, the real world had other ideas, and they were called NEWTs. NEWTs, you see, were not fun, they were hard and gruelling and all those other adjectives James disliked. He'd been spoiled, he supposed, things had always come so naturally to him, so easily that he'd rarely had to truly apply himself. Even the OWLs, which were by far the most intensive periods of schooling he'd had in terms of study, had been completed with a modicum of ease in comparison to the others in his year. He excelled at subjects that most found difficult - Transfiguration being the obvious one. He smiled tiredly as he thought of the night before, three of the Marauders keeping the Wolf company in their animagus forms - their own, private secret and experience that bound them together more surely than any other tie of friendship could, than any bond of camraderie could glue.
Of course that companionship could backfire, especially amongst men, since he tended to actually listen to what his friends said (as opposed to most others), which was why Sirius had managed to hit a nerve with pinpoint precision, cutting through the haze of "Head James" as he was now known amongst the Marauders (well, by Sirius, and by proxy Peter) and making him send off an order to Zonko's for one of their deluxe troublemaker hampers. Guaranteed to send any teacher (or Slytherin upstart) into an early grave. He smiled again as he finally spied his owl, beckoning to her as he yawned. Over the years, he'd become used to these nights of no sleep after a full moon, but usually he took the time to get a couple of hours kip after making sure Madam Pomfrey collected Remus from the Shrieking Shack. Now, though, he was in the Owlry at a stupid time in the morning...and he couldn't help but wonder whose footsteps were echoing up the stairs...