Okay, to everyone that's still following/wondering what the hell happened to this story, I don't even know what to say to you guys, and I wouldn't be surprised if you sent a lynch mob after me or attacked me in my sleep. I haven't updated since, um...april, I think, and that's rather pathetic. Truth is, I kind of lost faith in myself and dropped fanfiction for a while, worked a lot on uni stuff, etc, etc, and my summer was so freaking busy, I don't even know where it went. Anyhow, I have this next chapter for you guys, I hope you still remember what was going on :)
(wouldnt be surprised if I lost half of you along the way, but if you stuck with me, thank you, and you're awesome)
"Danger: mouth operates faster than brain."
I'm really thinking of having that tattooed across my forehead. To avoid these little…kerfuffles I always seem to find myself in. Like attempting to remove my pants in public.
Yes. Yes, I will tattoo it in huge, block letters.
In block, pink, bold letters.
Or perhaps blue? I don't know. Pink might be too effeminate. Might give the wrong message. Lily might see it. Complications could arise.
And we wouldn't want that.
….Maybe it should be in black.
This is all so confusing.
What on earth possessed me to talk about arses in a highly populated, wide-open space in the middle of Hogesmeade, and then progress to allow my fragile mind and body to be pummelled by the likes of Lily Evans?
I seem have trouble understanding the thought process of my own brain. Alarming, that I'm even starting to notunderstand me.
I never thought I'd say this but Mum was right, I am a piss-ant.
I mean, the girl may look small to the untrained eye, but believe me her fists of fury are intact. I have the marks to prove it. She could kill Dumbledore with her thumb.
And then some.
I have just concocted a theory. I think the reason behind the blinding pain in my body is because I have an invisible elephant sitting on my head.
Just lounging across my luscious hair.
Running through my God-given locks it as if they were a field of heather, its every (invisible) step digging into the soft tissue of my brain causing me unbearable pain. Maybe if I cross my eyes enough I could see it and hence be able to tell it to get the fuck off of my face!
I may not be overly logical normally, but I think the elephant theory is the only logical explanation at this time.
Logically, there is an invisible elephant sitting on the top of my head.
I am aware I sound mentally deranged. Possibly insane.
Let me explain.
I believe this is how it happened.
The moment I passed out from being straddled (it sounds fun, but it was not the fun kind of straddling), I think Lily might have used her special, God-given, heavenly powers to call upon the creatures of the earth to drop an invisible elephant from the sky, onto my beautiful, unsuspecting head.
My calculations predict that at this point, she might have proceeded to laugh maniacally at my expense as it stomped around my body and led to my demise.
She is an evil minx with the power to call upon invisible mammals to inflict pain on those who wish to take off their pants in public.
There's a sentence I never thought I'd say.
Anyway, all the evidence points to the fact that there is indeed an invisible elephant sitting atop my head. Because it doesn't make sense that this girl can be this strong.
Oh, don't get me wrong, I'm not a sexist pig who things men are stronger and burly and mustsave the day, or that we should all climb Snow White's hair, and save Repunzel from her Wonderland-what-not and fight dragons and evil things that don't exist in the muggle world while saving Cinderella from a beast and some girl called Jello from her evil stepsisters.
Before you ask, no, I am not drunk, and no, I did not make up these stories. Yes, they exist. Yes, Muggles are on crack.
(Thanks to Moony for filling my brain with useless muggle fairy-tales. Apparently they are supposed to be 'enlightening'. Sod off Moony, sod off. I could have been using the time to learn how to actually fight so that I could protect myself against invisible creatures!)
I was saying, I am not a sexist person. Suffice it to say that I've witnessed first hand what angry girls are capable of.
But come on, now. She's 5 foot 5. I'm 6 foot 2.
5 foot 5.
FIVE FEET I TELL YOU!
SHE IS AS TALL AS MY MUM'S BABY POODLE! AND A 6 FOOT 2 PERSON GETTING PUMMELLED BY A POODLE IS JUST AGAINST ALL LAWS OF PHYSICS.
Or so Moony told me. And Moony is never wrong. To say that would just completely upturn my life, and bring it crumbling around my head, so please refrain from doing so when I am so fragile-minded already.
Sigh. I am a disgrace to all man-kind.
I'm worse than Peter.
"I cannot believe that just happened."
The same Peter that once willingly agreed to run around the corridors stark naked if Padfoot and I took him to one of Slughorn's meetings.
The same Peter that also got caught by McGonagall, and decided it would be prudent not to mention sane if he blamed it on sleepwalking. Ah, Minnie was maaaadd...
"Did I just witness my best friend being straddled and beaten by a girl? Was that – was that real life, or am I in some strange, badly-made, dominatrix porno movie?"
"Normally, I respect all pornography as an art form, but honestly, I could have lived a long, happy life without seeing that."
"My eye sockeeeeet…"
"Would you stop whingeing?! You're getting on my nerves!"
I glare at him, and the (invisible!) elephant on top of my head gives a painful tug on my hair in annoyance. Not that elephants have enough joint movement in their paws (feet, hands, legs?) to tug on things.
That's beside the point.
"I wasn't complaining when you were bouncing around like a poofter and declaring that Taylor tried to kill you with a bleeding chair," I blurt out before the elephant can stop me.
"Taylor did try to kill me with a chair!" He retorts hysterically, "You were there! You saw, stop denying it! And hey, at least I didn't get beat up by a girl like some wanky-pant!"
I feel my eyebrow shoot up, and the elephant does not particularly like my facial features moving. "A wanky-pant?"
"Yes," he sniffs, indignantly crossing his arms and sticking his nose in the air, "It's a valid word. Moony found it in a dictionary."
"Padfoot, did you write this dictionary?" I ask suspiciously.
"No," he replies, all too fast. "Why would I do that? I wouldn't do that. That, I wouldn't do." He catches my eye. "I wouldn't. Shut up. And don't change the subject!" he squeals, finger in the air, "You got slapped around by a girl!"
"Well then you are a "wanky-pant" too, sir, seeing as you would have gotten your arse kicked by Taylor in that common room had I not interfered! You just didn't follow the Marauder Code like me and help me out!"
"I was dealing with the situation perfectly fine before you showed up, thank you!"
"Yes, hiding behind desks and throwing insults at her were doing wonders!"
"As a matter of fact they were! It was all part of the plan! She liked me! WE SNOGGED!"
"Oh, I stand corrected," I mutter dryly, knocking my head against the table in agony, trying to forget the pain in the rest of my body. "I momentarily forgot that if you snog, you win. My apologies." I bow my head in defeat.
I'm willing his brain to sense the sarcasm in that sentence.
"Hmph," he snorts, looking down at me over his nose in a Snape-ish, snotty kind of way. If only he had oil dripping down his hair, he would have been the spitting image of that sewer rat.
"At least we lasted a while," he spits snootily, "Which is more than I can say for you and Lily and that pathetic chocolate kiss at the beginning of the year."
I gasp, because I'm sure that's a line he's just crossed.
"How long did that last by the way, before Lily came to her senses? You kissed for a total of what, two seconds? That makes you about as experienced as my baby cousin," he deadpans, clapping twice, and smiling at me sweetly. "Congratulations, Prongs, extremely experienced boy of seventeen." Pity glimmers in his eye, and he smiles down at me. "That's what your gravestone will say. How sweet."
He's just twisting the knife right now. Am struggling not to head-butt him. The only reason I'm not is because the elephant will probably kill me.
Well, to the outside, I'd probably look I'm killing myself, since the elephant is of the…er, invisible nature.
We exchange glares for a few seconds.
"Would you go away?" I snap finally, hysterically waving my hand at him as if swatting away a fly, "Preferably on a holiday to the bottom of the lake with an anchor around your neck."
"Ha-ha," he sing-songs. "Comedian. You're just multi-talented aren't you?"
I glower at him. "This is all your fault anyway. You just couldn't stop me taking off my pants, could you, you incompetent mutt!" I feel a fist that I didn't know my hand formed coming down onto the table in anger.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry I did not forcibly pull your pants back on. Apologies. Maybe we should include a 'Forced Dressing' clause in the Marauder Code."
"Well, maybe we should."
He pauses, and scratches his chin. "Actually, come to think of it, this date was your idea, so technically I am here by your invite, ergo technically it is entirely your fault that we are hiding from two tiny girls as if they were devil incarnates."
On the other hand, he has just said 'ergo'. I have to terminate his relationship with Moony or before I know it he'll start saying 'hence' and doing homework. Perhaps I should get Moony to eat him and just solve the problem all together.
"Can't you just leave me alone?" I bleat, holding my head again and rubbing my temples in agitation.
"Oh sure," he says pointedly. "Just keep rubbing your head. That'll turn back time."
"Find yourself a new gender, Prongs, because I'm revoking your bloke membership."
"Very funny. Real witty. Oh, my sides are splitting." I stare at him, my expression dead. "Now shut up."
"Oh, no, are you going to beat me up like you did Lily?" Sirius grasps at his hair and wails with wide eyes, "Oh, Merlin, I'm so afraid! Please someone save me!"
I'm silent, but wallop him across the head. The occupants of the Three Broomsticks (within which we hid in the moment Lily got off of me) turn around and glance at us because of his stupid voice.
"Pleeeeeaaase!" he screeches again, cackling like a mad hatter.
I try to give him the 'shut-up-or-you-wont-have-children' look, but it's not working I'm in too much pain. I try the verbal route again. "Are you incapable of keeping your bloody mouth shut?!"
"Big surprise," I snarl, narrowing my eyes, still cradling my bruised arm. I feel like what I'm cradling is my ego; wounded and bruised and beat up by tiny demon hands. "I can make you, you know."
"Psh," he spits, his eyebrows rising. "Yeah. Lily can vouch for that. I know you're just a killing machine. You scoundrel, you." He slaps me on my arm, his wrist limp.
"Shut your blimmin' face."
"I don't think we can be friends anymore, actually," he muses, "It's not good for my image."
"Your image?" I ask sarcastically. "What image?"
"See," he says calmly, joining his hands on the table in a Dumbledore-esque way and mocking me, "I happen to be extremely manly with rippling muscles and bulging biceps, and it just does not bode well for me to hang out with 17 year old boys who get beaten up by midgety girls."
"Not girls," I correct bitterly through my teeth, "Just one girl."
He smiles tightly and shakes his head. "That's really not helping your case, dinkipoodle."
"Jamesie-poo? Are you angry at me?"
He cocks his head to the side, faux-sympathetically smiling at me. "How quaint. Bless."
Not to self, note to self, note to self: It's illegal to stab people for being annoying.
"You are such an adorable little man-child."
Killhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhimkillhim – shut up, brain.
I set my jaw. "I am so letting Moony loose on you tonight. Have fun battling a fully-morphed werewolf without me helping you."
No one said it was illegal to get Moony to kill people for being stupid.
"Yes, because a stag is so useful whilst battling werewolves. You and your stupid unicorn head and good-for nothing horns –"
"STOP INSULTING ME!"
"Can't," he quips, letting out a bark/laugh. "Too much fun."
"Awh, is your ego wounded? How abouts we go have an ice cream sundae and make itty bitty Jamie feel better?"
"Don't call me that!"
"How abouts we go back up to the castle and I make you a nice cup of hot cocoa and have you sit in front of the fire and read you a bedtime story where the main character doesn't get the living daylights beat out of him by a girl? How about – "
"How about a nice cup of shut the fuck up?!"
"Now, now. You know I don't approve of such language. You are such a wet-blanket. Ruining my fun."
"Oh, we aren't talking anymore? That's too bad."
"Well, I'm as content as a cucumber to wait until you're tongue is – Oh, look it's Lily! HI LILY! WE'RE OVER HERE, LILY!! LILY! LILY!!"
I grab my cheek and pull on it. No, I'm too awake for this to be a nightmare.
Well, this is a situation that requires both tact and finesse. Fortunately, I'm blessed with both.
"Where's Potter, Black?"
Ha, ha, ha.
For those who are wondering, Lily hasn't gone blind. And no, she is not doing the whole'ignore-the-person-right-in-front-of-you-and-ask-people-around-you-where-said-person-is-to-make-said-person-feel-like-poo' thing. That is so second year.
Yes, previously I had been sitting in the window seat of the Three Broomsticks right next to Sirius, being verbally harassed and wishing him bodily harm, and seeing as she is not blind, as addressed previously, and not ignoring me like a two year old (also addressed previously) she should be able to see me, right?
Because, me being impeccably smart, ingenious, practically brain-endowed by Merlin himself, I have come up with a genius plan. In approximately two split-seconds. Be proud of me. You know you want to be.
Want to hear my plan? Sure you can keep a secret? I wouldn't want to be flaunting my brilliance to the whole world. That would just be mean.
I have just nose dived under the table with blinding speed so that my movement was invisible to the naked eye.
It is quite a success story. I'm getting teary just thinking about it.
I was so fast, in fact, that I swear if you concentrated, you probably could have heard a little whoosh of air rush into the vacuum that my body had just vacated.
I lift my head up from the foetal position and see an impatient toe tapping straight in front of my nose. A pair of red shoes is behind her, also tapping one foot.
Sirius looks down at me inconspicuously, and grins. I pull on his trouser leg, and whisper-snap, "I swear to God, Merlin and Buddah, and all the pie that has ever been eaten, that if you do not keep your fucking mouth shut, I will stab you, bake you into a meat pie and eat you with ketchup!"
"No, not a pie!" he faux-gasps, and his grin spreads wider across his face.
I hope my tone conveys just how much pain he will be in before I cook him into said pie.
"I like ketchup," he continues smugly, and throwing his head back, lets a bellow storm out of his mouth.
"JAMES IS HERE, LILY!"
I guess my tone didn't do its job properly.
I watch in slow motion as his monstrous index finger turns falls from the air towards my face and he points at me, his expression almost giddy. Oh, he will die tonight.
The legs in front of me widen in a defensive stand. I can almost imagine her crossing her arms and glaring down at the surface of the table.
At the thought, I give the table leg a little stroke. Poor little thing, taking the heat of the battle trying to protect me.
"Potter, get out from underneath the table."
I grab the table leg. "No."
I scoot closer and hug it to my chest. She will not entice me with her 'frist-name-basis' flirting. No siree.
"James, you're embarrassing yourself."
"And us," A voice sneers from behind her. "Get the hell out and stop acting like you're three."
Now it's the old 'save your manliness and ego' trick. It's too late. My ego got trampled over by an elephant. It needs time to heal, not more beating. And really doesn't care if it is tiny and crushed.
"Hey, don't order my friend around!"
Of course, the turd defends his best friend only when his sworn enemy says something about him. When said best friend is getting humiliated and practically destroyed in the middle of the street, nothing is done, of course.
I hear Lily sigh, and her foot stops tapping. "James," she mutters. "Honestly. Public humiliation. As we speak. Just get out from underneath the table before everyone thinks you are some sort of retard."
"Better a living retard than a dead James."
"Well, you deserved everything I did to you. You're still alive aren't you?
"Consider that compassionate. You owe it to my respect for human life."
I poke my head from underneath the table, and look up at her, frowning. She looks rather frightening from this angle. Her nostrils look about large enough to swallow me. "You're a bully," I blurt before I lose my nerve.
I proceed to retreat into the protective cocoon of Janice (yes, I have named the table – it seemed insensitive to call it 'the table' after we've been through so much together) and hold her leg tighter.
Janice's, that is. Not Lily's.
"Merlin, stop being such a baby!"
"Baby?!" I shuffle out from underneath Janice and majestically raise myself to my full height and dominate the room and the conversation.
In my head.
In reality, I try to shuffle out, hit my head on the side of Janice (TRAITOR), rise to my feet, and then slap my forehead against the chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Nursing a broken head now, among other things, I shout indignantly. "BABY?! So far I've been embarrassed, beaten up, strangled, insulted, ridiculed, and have now been punched in the face by a chandelier. DOES THAT SOUND LIKE SOMETHING A BABY COULD LIVE THROUGH?!"
"Actually," Sirius pipes up, choosing this precise moment to participate in the conversation, his index finger in the air, "My five year old cousin fell fourteen floors and survived –"
"Shut up, Sirius – "
"Shut up, Black –"
" – Well he did conjure a pillow underneath himself mid-fall, so that was good, but the example still is valid, we were very proud – display of magic at such an early age –"
"That's not the point," I mutter dismissively, and bat a hand at him impatiently. He shuts up, looking mildly put out. "I suppose you don't have to give a flying monkey's left testicle whether I was alive?" I mutter judgementally, rounding on Lily.
She looks at me for a bit, and I think I see a bit of remorse in there somewhere.
"Oh, pish-posh," she throws off my glare finally, waving her hand about. "I merely slapped you around a bit."
Brilliant. My voice was about seven octaves higher, and my head cocked along with the sound. I looked kind of like an offended ostrich, I think.
My ego has taken another blow, ladies and gentlemen. Please take your seats, get out your popcorn and chocolates and watch as it dwindles away. I hope you enjoy the show.
It shouldn't be very long, now.
She's looking at me, her expression measured. "Fine," she blurts, her hands flying up and clasping back around her thighs in defeat. For a second I misinterpret it as another physical threat and twitch, but her hands have come down. Thank Merlin.
Fists of fury, alright? You can't blame me for being afraid.
"I'm sorry I beat you up. Okay? The bully is apologizing. Satisfied? Is your ego healed?"
"A bit," I repeat. Oh, how I lie. The Jamsie inside smiles smugly.
Great, even I'm calling myself Jamsie now. Perfect nickname. Must come up with and equally pooftery name for Padfoot.
Something ingeniously clever.
Like…Sinus…or Sniffle…Snail…or something girly that starts with a S….
Snarly? That's not very girly. Must give this more thought later.
Lily stays there, looking at me, and I at her, and Sirius and Taylor are doing God knows what, and I don't really care because my Lily-flower is looking at me and I at her and her eyes are so pretty and I want to drown in them because her eyes look like trees – no – no – grass – or perhaps a grasshopper – and so pretty – and so pretty – but so pretty –
"I need a drink," A voice cuts in as Taylor eyes our staring match, looking slightly queasy. She sits herself down next to Janice and waves the waiter over.
Sirius sighs, seating himself next to her, and slamming Janice (NO!) in a very manly way with his fist. "Finally a voice of reason."
Lily and I finally break eye contact, and she moves forward to sit next to Taylor.
"Sirius," I say, annoyed, as I sit down, "If you hit Janice again I'll throw my elephant at you."
I really don't have the heart to ask you guys to review, but if you do, I'll be ecstatic. Thanks for reading, and I'll try to update!