The newest batch of Hogwarts students have entered this historic school and no one knows how their future will turn out - will you be a quidditch pro or maybe a prefect? The year is now 2021, and now it's time for the next generation to make their mark. The newest batch of Hogwarts students have entered this historic school and no one knows how their future will turn out - and that is where the fun begins.
The plot will be determined by the characters of the site as of now - future plots will change as these forces weigh in on the Wizarding World, and we see where these characters take us. So join in and let your character make their mark!
Minimum word count is 200.
Post by James Sirius Potter on Jun 19, 2018 14:22:16 GMT
The last few weeks had been a wild ride, between benders with Giselle Grimaldi, fighting with Cece Abercrombie, and…well…Charlotte Longbottom in general. Seemingly, the events with the latter had managed to stay somewhat under wraps. Seemingly. The general terror of being outed for a night of raucous and messy pleasure wasn’t so daunting because of the act itself, but rather because Dominique Weasley possessed a potential fury that could be matched only by a very mad Hungarian Horntail, because people has been whispering the names Charlotte and Nate a little more than before, and because Cece Abercrombie might actually kill him. She might. No…seriously.
It was a complete deviation from what he’d been used to for the last several years, now that his quiv wasn’t buzzing intermittently with hexts from her, casual volleys of flirtatious back-and-forths that he always thought would amount to something. His quiv was barely buzzing at all, truly, not after he’d shattered the screen by dropping it onto the stone floor outside the kitchen and then forgotten it there after his performance of resounding fuckery with Cece as audience. He assumed she hadn’t seen it on the floor either (he had to, as he still hadn’t spoken to her since that evening), because it had been recovered by a handful of third year girls, who had then decided to pass it around to their friends, take pictures, and infiltrate his hexts and Instagram until they were bored. It didn’t take very long- James was awful with a quiv- there was little content to debunk.
Still, through the cracks of the damaged screen, it was possible to see enough of an image to illicit sincere frustration. As he flipped through the feed of pictures he so rarely visited on Instagram (he’d never learned how to search, so mindless scrolling every few days in search of the few people whose pictures he wanted to see was the standard) and landed on what he’d been searching for, something she posted, he wrinkled his brow in dissatisfaction, grimacing audibly. What kind of dude used the word ‘cookie’ in his username anyway?
Leaning back against the pillow on the arm of the couch, James shut his headached eyes and tossed his quiv onto the coffee table with a loud clatter, not fearful of fucking it up any more than it already was. The common room was empty at this early hour, a Sunday morning not yet tainted by the first stragglers to crawl towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He’d spent the majority of the evening with a bottle of bourbon and a broomstick, messing around at the Quidditch Pitch with a few friends, trying his best to avoid inter-house gatherings that would probably have a variety of people he was gingerly trying to avoid…without seeming like he was trying to avoid them. He thought with time, it would make the whole thing easier, but now it felt like the flame on a fuse was only getting closer to the bomb.
Post by Lily Luna Potter on Jun 21, 2018 22:55:17 GMT
Lily hadn't meant to sleep out of the dorm again, honest. It had just kind of happened. She'd been batch brewing some Org as the last couple of weeks of Hogwarts parties had made a severe dent in her sales reserves, and she may have nodding off during the simmer of the final batch. She was lucky she'd only lost one cauldron full really, and honestly lucky she hadn't accidentally blown up the castle. That would blow her cover for sure. She'd woken up with a start in an disused storeroom she'd been using recently and nearly knocked over three whole night's work, but she'd saved it. Cleaned up. Stored the stock. She'd fire Jasper a hext later to let him know too as she was pretty sure there were back orders on the stuff. Which, good to be honest, Org helped people feel zen and the castle's energy recently was certain anything but that.
It was the early hours of the morning and it was a Sunday so hopefully the corridors would be sparse and Gryffindor tower would be empty, and she'd be able to sneak all the way to her bed without any form of human contact. The Fat Lady was disgruntled but swung open anyway (good, because it was her job) and Lily plodded through the common room towards the stairs - she was halfway to them before she realised the figure she'd dismissed as a random student on the sofa was actually her brother.
She supposed she should at least say hi.
Merlin, he looked a mess. They hadn't actually spoken recently. Not that they did often... it was less ignoring each other and more that they just never seemed to know what to say. Things often ended up stilted and awkward, and with him running off after receiving a series of hexts. Although it seemed like that was unlikely at this point given the thing she'd watched him fling onto the coffee table. There was no way that was still working.
James wasn't himself recently. She knew, she just didn't know what she could do about it. She had no idea how to help him just like he had no idea how to even interact with her - and wasn't that just the last three years described in one sentence.
Lily hovered in the middle of the common room, unsure what to actually say. Calculating her move. Would he actually appreciate her talking to him? Should she just skip that step, the one that could easily end with them snapping at each other and her miserable in her bed all day not wanting even a chance of walking into him? It being a Sunday morning it was likely he was hungover anyway and... wait. Hungover.
She darted up to the forth year girls dormitory to grab a vial of something she'd been working on. It wasn't fully developed yet in that it didn't clear a hangover entirely, but it eased the affects some still (at least, according to her tester it did). She was back down the stairs in an instant and stood right in front of her brother before she'd really thought it through.
"If you're hanging this should help," she said, holding the vial out to about three inches in front of his face, "That or apparently drinking more, but that would just delay the hangover rather than stop it anyway."
tagged: James Sirius Potter words: 566 notes: here drink this random thing uv never seen before its good promise
Post by James Sirius Potter on Jun 28, 2018 18:18:07 GMT
He’d come so far from the drama of deciding to leave the Quidditch team…even though it had been less a decision and more a rebellious act of absolute selfishness and thoughtlessness. If there has been any deciding taking place, he certainly would have decided against it. Leave his closest friends and favorite thing to do behind in the dust…all to prove a point? Great move, Potter.
Instead, he’d replaced this drama with that of Cece, Charlotte, Nate, and all the other people swirling around in that midst. The terror of Dominique having one more reason to hate him more than she (most likely) already did. Niko Abercrombie shoving him as she came out of nowhere walking past him out of the library. The idea of Albus finding a snide remark about the entire thing, despite not having been involved in any of it at all (to his knowledge, at least).
He swung his arm over his eyes, elbow apexing over his nose while he exhaled a stiff groan, wishing the thumping in his pupils would subside for even five minutes. He couldn’t tell if he was sliding in and out of sleep or if his mind was still spinning with the remnants of dark liquor still in his bloodstream, but it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes, and he heard a familiar voice, errantly perky for such an early hour of the morning, thus indicating exactly who it belonged to, as if he would have had to question it otherwise.
His arm slid off his face and onto his chest, revealing one of his eyes cracked open in painful submission to the light, and now the trinket, above him. “How are you bloody awake,” he croaked, looking from the vial sideways and towards the red hair of its issuer. Reflexively, he brought his knees upward on the couch, making room for her to sit if she wanted to.
He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a conversation without other people- without their mother, mostly. Or the flurry of cousins and aunts and uncles (mostly aunts and uncles) who made it their business to be in their mother’s home at all times of summer for fear of her loneliness. He knew it was wrong to be bitter about it, but early mornings, booze-bruised temples, and privacy allowed it, if only for a moment’s pause.
He was too tired to question her offer, and swatted the vial out of fingertips and into his hand, popping the cork clean off with a flick of his thumb before dumping its contents into his stretched mouth. It was disgusting. Coughing, he dropped the empty vial on the ground before covering his eyes with his arm again, wincing. “What was that,” he coughed, whining unnecessarily from under his elbow.
Post by Lily Luna Potter on Jun 30, 2018 2:54:11 GMT
Lily moved to the new space on the couch almost instantly as James moved to make room for her, careful to keep the vial still held out towards him as she went, "Being awake is easy when you don't sleep," she said simply, wondering if he'd prod that any further or just leave her be. He didn't need to know that she still got nightmares sometimes. That the best way she'd found to ease them when they flares was to live off a sleep that never reached a deep state - an hour here, 45 minutes there. Small pockets throughout the night. Not getting a full night's sleep was a small price to pay to give up the screaming in your head that your brain told you was your father's, but in reality you'd never heard him make a sound like that when he was alive.
She curled her legs up underneath her as she settled into the cushions, body angled towards her brother as he downed the potion he'd taken from her. Lily was eager to study his reaction. The potion wasn't quite right, she knew. Not yet perfect enough to market - a hangover cure would fly out of her storerooms faster than a chocolate frog on the escape, and if it didn't work properly there would be no return sales. Still, it helped some according to the testers that had given feedback so far. Mostly with the headache aspect, but not great on a churning stomach. James was likely to still vom if he'd been going to anyway, but it shouldn't make him do so if the hangover wasn't already going to.
Lily had made some changes since she'd last sent out a batch to be tested, though. So.. hopefully. It was hard to create a cure for something you never suffered from. She dabbled in her own potions but alcohol (at least, to excess) just wasn't her thing, so she was kind of guessing for the most part with this one.
James had covered his eyes again and was coughing, his question definitely coming out with a whine when he eventually asked it, "A hangover cure. Still being tested," Lily replied, watching him carefully and trying to mentally keep note of how he reacted. Her brother could be a bit oblivious sometimes but she was sure taking full on notes would be a dead giveaway, and even though she was less careful about her hobbies with her eldest brother he seemed to not realise so far, and she enjoyed being at least subtle. If he was going to work it out it was going to be on his own, she wasn't going to tell him.
The empty vial James had dropped knocked against her foot, and she reached down to grab and save it for re-use sometime. "How do you feel now? Better than before?" She couldn't help but prod, "Is the headache easing? Do you have spots in your vision?" Lily tilted her head, taking a calculated pause before asking her next question: "You don't... feel like you're suddenly bleeding from... well, from any of your body's orifices, really - do you?"
Post by James Sirius Potter on Jul 8, 2018 22:36:14 GMT
There were many, many better brothers in the world than James Potter, who was so abominably out of touch with both of his siblings’ lives that he didn’t have pause to question why Lily would have some sort of potion handy for gifting. It was hard to compare themselves to other families in their vicinities, because their upbringings were so dissimilar. The Abercrombies appeared to be the golden paragon of siblinghood- did Niko and Cece ever fight or not know something about each other? The Longbottoms were like two sides of the same coin- everyone wanted a relationship like theirs. Even the Notts, who one could not call affectionate without a guffaw, were in tune with one another.
For all his faults, he did peek under his arm at his sister, even his underdeveloped sense of protectiveness kicking in at the thought of her engaging in zombie behavior. Unfortunately, if that were honestly the case, he probably wouldn’t notice. When did he ever see her? “Sleep is a gift,” he muttered, returning to the darkness under his elbow as he readjusted himself on the couch once she’d sat down. “Just don’t fucking…like…go mad. Mum will fly off the handle.” Apparently, his mother had once been emotionally impenetrable, known for her grit and guile. Marriage and motherhood had eroded her resolve, even before Harry’s death. He didn’t think she’d be able to handle anything happening to one of her children. But honestly, the fact that all three were functioning human beings was a miracle.
Mostly functioning human beings. He’d fucked his cousin’s best friend after making a prat of himself in front of a girl that he most likely was in love with and was basically lying to everyone about it. That’s a pretty low level of function.
“Tested…?” He was making every attempt possible to remove the taste of the abhorrent potion from the top of his tongue, scraping it against his front teeth, wishing he could spit onto the floor of the common room. It was as he wished this, that he felt cold seep from the base of his neck and toward his temples, as if an icecube was being run over his skull, but underneath his skin. He removed his arm from his face, blinking a few times at the ceiling before peering over his knees at his sister, who has single-handedly removed the pain from the sides of his head.
“How the fuck did you manage that…” Shimmying to rest his back on the arm of the couch, he continued to blink a few times, feeling like his vision was glazing over slightly, as if he was extremely tired. “Spots? Uh, no...wait- the fuck you mean, bleeding?” His eyebrows furrowed, and in double-take, he snapped his head to asses her accusatorily. “What are you up to, Potter...” He squinted his eyes at her, his still woozy brain trying to make the proper gear turns to put the variety of things he was experiencing together. “Morris offer you extra credit or something?”
Post by Lily Luna Potter on Jul 9, 2018 15:35:39 GMT
Honestly, she was a little annoyed that he prodded. Although also a little relieved that at least it wasn't with a question, "I'll have to remember to put it on my wish list then." Sarcasm, as ever, came most naturally to Lily, but she did pause when James mentioned their mother. Their mother who might be able to keep a mask up in front of some people, but never in front of her children... "There's no need for her to know, she doesn't doesn't need to worry. I keep my instagram light."
Everything public facing was light. It had to be. Lily had too many followers on the only social media account she allowed herself than any 14 year old really should - and she knew exactly why. The public was waiting for her to snap. So she made sure to post regularly. Pretty pictures, daily shots - pictures of herself usually taken with a timer, or by Louis at family gatherings. She was so aware of being watched constantly by strangers that she even had the picture and message to post in memory of her dad on his anniversary drafted, and then the "Hey its my birthday but I can't look too excited because my dad flew into the turret I now live in three years ago yesterday!" ready to go for the next day.
OK, maybe she overthought things sometimes.
Lily watched her brother scraping his tongue against his teeth with mirth in her eyes, "There's no point making something taste nice 'til you know that it works," she pointed out as the potion took affect. She couldn't be quite sure it was perfect yet, but he was looking at her properly and not squinting at the light anymore, so it looked like a positive result. Which was good as she definitely didn't want to kill him.
She shrugged as James asked her how she'd done it - certain that a ) he didn't want the specifics of the brewing process and b ) he probably wouldn't believe her anyway. She did wave off his questioning though, "Apparently after the first attempt somebody had a really severe nose bleed - and then there was another time they wouldn't give me specifics but apparently that was most likely an old wound being opened anyway. You feel good, then?" Lily was admittedly a little excited by the prospect this one might be nearly complete.
But now James was looking at her. Directly. Like, really looking at her in a way they just.. didn't ever tend to focus on each other. Lily found it rather unnerving.
She was shrugging again. She often was when they actually talked, "... or something, I guess." They had this way about each other where they were definitely not telling each other everything, but what they would say had no filter - and it was for this reason that Lily was now on edge. With his hangover disappearing would he realise who she was? That she was supplying his currently semi-regular drug habit? Would he call her out on it? She needed to distract him.
"What happened to your quiv?" Lily nodded towards the table where he'd flung what was essentially now pieces of broken glass earlier, "Like, surely that thing doesn't work anymore!?"
tagged: James Sirius Potter words: 549 notes: why do i love these two so much
Post by James Sirius Potter on Jul 17, 2018 17:39:42 GMT
Now that she was mentioning it, he wasn’t sure that he even followed her on Instagram. He hadn’t posted a photo on his own in months- maybe even since before he’d returned to the castle in September. On the occasion he even clicked into the application, he mindlessly scrolled until he came across a picture of someone he cared about. He didn’t know how to search for other people’s pages…pictures…feeds? The fact that his mother had a better handle on a quiv than he did should have embarrassed him, but he was too out of touch with the rampantly escalating technology to even care. Besides, his was one tap away from being held together with spell-o-tape.
Her choices of words were continually perplexing, and he was no less suspicious, but, still wrestling with the satisfaction of no longer experiencing a raging headache and crippling nausea, he was too distracted to demand more detail immediately. Continuing to squint at her, he pawed at his quiv to check the time. It was much too early to be awake- but freshly free of dilapidation, he would probably find it hard to go back to sleep. The right thing to do would be to take a run- which is what he used to do every morning before his recent bout of self-pitiful moping and the desire to avoid an alteration with Francisco Krum at all costs.
Looking sideways at the coffee table neighboring the couch, where his shattered quiv had been set back down, he flapped his hand in the air dismissively, waving away her questions as he closed his eyes, in comfort this time. “I dropped it,” he said flatly, extending his arms over his head in a long stretch, before bending them at the elbow so his hands could rest underneath his neck. “It definitely works. I mean…it sends hexts, or whatever. Don’t really know how to do much else with it anyway.” His eyes fluttered open from lack of fatigue, to rest on the memorably suspicious features of his little sister once more. Certainly, she hadn’t almost successfully duped him, had she?
“Spill it, Lunes. You don’t drink. What are you doing brewing this…this shit?” He hesitated for lack of a better term, raising an eyebrow in her direction, one of his thoughts redirecting him. “Or do you? Damn…” It took him a full few seconds of thought to remember how old she was, wobbling sadly between thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen before landing properly in the middle, unsure if it was appropriate to be asking a fourteen year old if they drank, especially if they were one’s little sister.
Post by Lily Luna Potter on Jul 22, 2018 0:07:47 GMT
James was looking so much more himself now, rather than a product of his hangover. Lily couldn't help but feel smug about it. So far he didn't appear to have any side affects whatsoever either which was just.. excellent. There'd be another round of testing with the usuals through her contact (Jasper, it was always Jasper), but she was hopeful now it would be ready to add to her sales notes. Perfect timing for the final term of the year - the start of which being when sixth years went overboard party-wise, and the end of it (post-exams) being the seventh years time to shine.
She couldn't help but stare at his quiv incredulously upon his apparent explanation, which was so not enough for that level of damage, "Dropped it? From where, a broom? And how many times!?" Sometimes her brother didn't seem like a normal teenager, although really none of the Potters were that, were they? Still, James' complete lack of technological knowledge despite growing up within an era of progressiveness constantly blew her mind. She wouldn't be able to function if her quiv stopped being usable. It either of them did. She sighed, "I forget you literally just use it for hexts. Your instagram is always dead. Y'know you could at least boost my likes sometimes..." Lily couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him, taking a stab in the dark that her account was not one he would pay any attention to. Really, she never checked her notifications closely enough to know who was liking them regularly.
Her distraction hadn't worked, and James brought the conversation back around to the fact his little sister has handed him a hangover cure. Bollocks. She'd been counting on him remaining oblivious when she'd decided to give him the thing. Maybe she should have just left him to suffer on his own - snuck up to her dorm without bothering him. Except, if she had done that they wouldn't be where they were right now. Actually sat next to each other for an extended period of time and, gasp, talking. It was nice. It didn't happen often and that was the reason she kind of liked it when it did. Appreciated the fact that they could get on even if they mostly chose not to interact.
Still, deflection was a must. "... I could drink." She didn't, though. "I could drink a lot." Hippogriff shit. "I could be drunk right now." Un-bloody likely, but she it pointed out anyway using the fact they barely saw each other as flimsy protection. "Most Gryffindors do like to party, as you well know."
tagged: James Sirius Potter words: 448 notes: younger sibs have to be contrary obvs
Post by James Sirius Potter on Jul 17, 2019 19:55:42 GMT
“Yeah, probably,” he indicated, scrunching his nose upward as he considered the very real possibility that he had, at one point, dropped it from a broom. He’d certainly thrown it across the pitch so that his mate could take a picture of him walloping a bludger through the middle goal post. The inciting incident, however, was the drunken rage he revisited in his mind all too often, one he would be happy to set aside in favor of a new fuck-up, whenever that time came.
It was hard to believe that Lily Potter had ever had a drink in her life, but there was an odd way she responded to him that made him doubt what he thought to be true. That, or it was just the lingering feeling of emptiness floating through his head, as if he had to brace himself for it to come back at any moment. The cure had work splendidly, he would find, when the hangover did not return, but until then his sleepiness and temples were on high alert for a resurgence.
“Are you pulling that thing where you say something sort of sarcastically, so I’m meant to think you mean the opposite of what you said, but you’re just doing it to confuse me, so I really should be listening to exactly what you’re saying?” He powered through the explanation by flicking his forefinger from side to side and closing his eyes, but opened them towards her upon the conclusion to squint in her general direction, attempting to surmise something he would have no luck in.
The idea that tragedy made anyone closer was complete bullshit. Their age difference aside, it wasn’t like anything that had happened had pulled their family together. If anything, he felt a little more of a wedge between himself and his siblings. The big, bad thing he just couldn’t bring himself to talk about. Because that conversation was just completely impenetrable- it would lead to one thing after another after another, and what good would it do anyone? They’d reached some semblance of normalcy. Why disrupt that?
He blinked, refocusing on his sister. “Nah, no way. You’re more likely to be, like, selling drugs than you are to be sneaking booze at a common room party.” A belly laugh escaped him- the idea of Lily crouched over a bottle of vodka with her friends (who even were her friends?)- it was totally ridiculous.
TAG:Lily Luna Potter NOTES: I know I milked this but he’s just SO daft.
Post by Lily Luna Potter on Jul 31, 2019 0:11:12 GMT
Something in the way James replied told her that, despite his agreement, his quiv had not in fact been dropped from a broom like she had suggested. Not recently, anyway. Or, at least, that wasn't what had caused the current state it was in. But he wasn't giving her any further information and, for many reasons, Lily wasn't going to pry any further on the topic. It would break the cycle they had followed their entire lives, even before those lives had been turned on their heads: there was no reason to question the answer that had been given, so the other wouldn't. The topic would be dropped. The conversation would carry on.
Its just how they work.
He barely mulled over her words on the topic of drinking though - which was fair, Lily knew she'd been unconvincing. She was tired and honestly hadn't seen enough of Louis lately to be on her best form sarcasm-wise, and plus she apparently was dealing with a clear headed James now. Absolute win on the potion front. May end up backfiring on a personal one. Her brain whirred. She'd always thought she wouldn't necessarily mind James finding out, but when faced with the possibility of it happening imminently the panic began to rise.. She realised she truly had no idea how he would react and none of the options her head was giving her were particularly great.
Lily blinked at him as he opened his eyes again, not even having tried to follow that train of thought and instead responding with a slight shrug and as blank a face as she could possibly manage. And then a miracle happened, he let it go - and then in the same breath, a disaster. The world paused in its early-morning daze. Its possible she stopped breathing for a second. Probable, in fact.
Except he glossed over the sentence. Laughed at his own joke. His own joke. His own joke, that was actually her reality.
Merlin, sometimes people were morons.
Knowing that ignoring the comment would more likely raise a bigger red flag than anything else, Lily did the only thing she could in the moment. She was a Gryffindor. She could be brave. Face it head on. "I mean," she laughed, fake but as convincing as she could make it - meaning, pretty fucking convincing, "I do have a knack for potions." She prayed the twinkle in her eye came across as humour, not a confession.
tagged: James Sirius Potter words: 414 notes: fucked up a perfectly good potter is what we did. look at it. its got anxiety.
Post by James Sirius Potter on Aug 8, 2019 13:48:46 GMT
From what he knew about his parents, the last thing they were doing in school was the sort of stuff going on in the school today. Well, at least his father wasn’t, who his family was sure to inform them all was a certified dork throughout his tenure at school (setting aside the entire defeating-the-face-of-evil stuff). Apparently, he had zero game, but still landed the kids’ mum, who by all accounts was a total smokeshow. Probably something to do with the fact that they knew each other for years and years, and definitely not due to Harry making moves. With a lot less booze and accoutrements, a lot less people ended up snogging. Just facts.
Point being, James was quite certain that recreational drugs weren’t making the rounds at Hogwarts until pretty recently. There was always the hodge-podge of experiments that became a thing for a week at a time. But it wasn’t until…was it not even a year ago?...that regular supplies were available. Incorporated, basically. Quiv technology probably had something to do with it, since they, paired with the self-destructing parchments, allowed distribution to be relatively anonymous. It was fabulous marketing, and their supply covered a whole host of markets.
Even James, who was much more of a booze guy himself, still had quite the affinity for the occasional bender. And while he didn’t much like the shadiness of the anonymity, Grimaldi’s supplies (while free) were a bit too intense (for occasions other than Valentine’s Day Balls). Sometimes, he and his buddies would order some of that X and Green Elixir, sneak out to the pitch at night, and have at it with a bunch of snitches, usually resulting in a night full of extreme laughter, awkward confessions, and intense debates about ridiculous, ridiculous things, like, what would a game of Quidditch with no bludgers but three snitches look like, or now post-breakup who will get with someone first, Linus Longbottom or Lucy Weasley, or who really was the Thestral anyway? Morris was always a guess. Molly Weasley sometimes a consideration. Or the Hufflepuff boys as a collective- they always had the air of just being…up to something.
Freshly free of a dastardly headache, he couldn’t help but agree. As he lifted a hand to his temple to rub at it lightly, he was finally aware enough to be impressed. “You got that right, kid.” He glanced over at her and offered what could only have been deduced as an attempt at fraternal approval, an awkward head tilt and smile that were a little too disassociated to appear natural. But in his mind, he’d knighted her with his older-sibling sword, and he sheathed it by shutting his eyes and leaning back into the couch. Intertwining his fingers and letting them relax on his torso, he meditated momentarily on her talent, and how smooth that little antidote had been, how that could really come in handy more oft-
James launched his upper body away from the couch. Sitting up straight, he was staring right at her, eyes as wide as remembralls. He lingered, inexplicably, for a little longer than comfortable, his mind in a perpetual tumble as he asked himself a myriad of questions to dissuade himself from what he was really considering. Why was his little sister, who didn’t drink, making a hangover cure in her spare time? For extra credit? She didn’t need that. “…you….youuuu….hmmmmmmmmmm…” He couldn’t quite decide what words to use, so the start of his sentence dissolved into a firm hum as he tilted his head to the side in puzzlement, lifting a finger to point at her accusingly.
Post by Lily Luna Potter on Aug 11, 2019 2:46:23 GMT
Receiving praise from James was.. disconcerting in its way. He'd only agreed with her, not said anything directly, and she still found it a little odd to take. Its not that Lily didn't want his approval, its just that she didn't need it to appreciate her own self-worth. Or anybody else's for that matter. And yet she couldn't help the flutter that hit her at his words, along with the smile he'd sent her. She felt like she'd made him proud and that felt... nice? She couldn't phrase it well. Its hard when its a feeling you're not used to.
The quiet that settled between them then was gentle. It was still early in the morning, light threatening to seep in through the windows but not quite reaching yet. A peaceful respite before the rest of the castle's occupants got up to start their day - the point at which, on weekends, Lily would retreat to bed and actually try and get some sleep. Hopefully tonight this time without the need of a potion to aid it along given the current almost tranquility she was feeling.
And then James bolted upright and everything changed. The eye contact they were making was too intense for her to break, added to the accusatory finger pointed at her and she just. Froze. There wasn't even any real panic running through her, just an air of sheer acceptance as her brain caught up to the situation. The idle thought passed her mind that she wasn't even sure if either of them were blinking in this pseudo staring contest, but the rest of her was focused on figuring out some options as quickly as possible. What could she do? What should she do?
Option 1: Laugh it off. Just full on start howling at the absurdity of what was being suggested and come up with an explanation for the hangover cure. It wasn't you who'd been made it, obviously you didn't have that skill level yet. It was Professor Morris, but your current project with him was to get people to test it and record their results? James knew you did extra work with him anyway. Or, at least, he should do - it was mentioned enough at home between you and mum. But the nature of it exactly was never really discussed. He didn't know it was mostly you watching Morris brew as you checked his potions stock and slyly snuck out things you knew her wouldn't notice, and helping him make your own sleeping potion because the hospital wing still refused to stock the dreamless kind. Thanks, Hogwarts-aged-dad, thanks so much for that. Truly.
Option 2: Play dumb. Blink a few times slowly and look confused. Ask him what he was suggesting and then act truly offended if he admits it. Like the entire idea is utterly unfathomable and you've never even heard of The Thestral anyway because why would you have. You're don't go to parties or really socialise much so he might believe it...
Option 3: Outright lie. Really this was the same as the other options just with less sound affects and excuses. Give a name and hope he accepts it. Blame somebody else.
When it boiled down to it, though, Lily realised two things. 1) she had never, ever, outright lied to her brothers. Either of them. Even before... everything. She wasn't naive enough to believe this always worked both ways, but she knew it was something she'd never done. Sometimes she evaded things - distracted the situation until she could escape. But she'd never bold faced told them something untrue, and if they asked a direct question of her then they got a direct answer. And 2) she was honestly just too tired to even care at this point. So what, James knew. Or rather James suspected and was about to know. What was he even going to do with the information? Its not like he needed any more drama around the castle even if it was indirectly.
Keeping eye contact with him the entire time, Lily gave one, quick, sharp nod.
tagged: James Sirius Potter words: 691 notes: not much of a talker this one. at least she's not having a panic attack though