nala@TDA is just on fire
Chapter Four: On Growls, Awkward Silences, and the Importance of Hyphens (and James)
James will NOT let the Sex-on-Legs Louis thing go.
He glared at Louis at dinner for about twenty minutes till I had to drag him outside of the overcrowded “dining room” (whatever Mollius, you’re not fooling anyone) and inform him that the phrase wasn’t Sex-on-Legs LEMON, and therefore he had no right to act so hostile toward Louis.
James widened his eyes and scowled at me. “He’s my cousin, I can be hostile to him whenever and for whatever reason I feel like.”
Not when I’M the one who wants to jump his bones.
“Not when there’s nothing going on between us, James!” Or, you know, when there is. Not that there will be. But if there is, I’d prefer if James didn’t interrupt us. Heh heh.
“You call him,” PAUSE, “sex on legs Louis.” James pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, leaning back against the kitchen door. Yes, we were back in that hiding place.
“It’s Sex-on-Legs Louis.”
“…Lemon, how is that any different from what I said?”
“You gotta say it with the hyphens.”
James opened his eyes and stared at me. For a long time. Awkward silence. It made me uncomfortable after a little while. I fidgeted with my shirt, waiting for him to say something.
“You’re a loon,” he finally remarked, still looking at me funny.
I sighed. “Yes, I’m aware. Now can we please get back to lunch? Mollius will start thinking we’re making grandkids or something we stay out here too long.”
James smirked. “You just want to go back inside so you can stare at my cousin some more.”
James pushed himself away from the door and straightened up. “I’m not stupid, Snickets. Keep your eyes off him. I swear if he doesn’t do the same I’ll carve his fucking eyes out.”
“JAMES!” I shook my head at him, a little ticked off. “There’s no need to curse like that. AND I am at perfect liberty to look at Louis. Not that I will. But just so you know.” Because, you know, I most certainly WILL.
James glared at me and grabbed my hand as we walked back to the “dining room.” “Don’t test me, Lemon, I swear to Merlin,” he growled.
Gulp. Okay, maybe I’ll just be, you know, super-mega-discreet about it.
(PS: Growling is hot. I wonder if Louis growls. Yay for growling.)
Ten Reasons Why Louis is Sex-on-Legs, (Except Don’t Tell James ‘Cause He’s Being Really Scary About This Louis Thing):
1. His hair is really, really golden. It’s shimmery. And although I loathe UNICORNS, I really don’t mind sparkles. Although his hair is a manly sparkly. Yes.
2. Plus, it would feel really, really soft if I ran my fingers through it. Hmmm.
3. His eyes are really, really blue. Like, the ocean and other such blue things.
4. His shirt was form-fitting enough to inform me that he has abs. Of the exceptionally hot variety.
5. His lips are really, really soft looking. Like if I kissed him, they’d be very, very nice to kiss.
6. Um, he makes me want to kiss him?
7. He smirks.
8. He smiles.
9. He makes me very, very aware of the fact that I’m a girl.
10. I wanna jump his sexy sex bones.
Okay, that list was the biggest failure since Voldemort’s attempts to kill Harry.
Oh my fugliest UNICORN, tell me how to make this ache for Sex-on-Legs Louis go away? Yes, yes, UNICORN, despite your foul non-awesomeness, you are wise. I must HAVE him to make this ache go away. I must have HIM, his sexy HAIR, his pretty EYES, his hot ABS –
“Whose hot ABS are you writing about?”
“JAMES!” I screamed, falling off his bed and onto the floor, the UNICORN journal clutched to my rapidly beating heart. James was standing in front of me, rubbing a towel through his drenched hair, a giant smirk on his face.
“Glad to know I made impression enough to be in your unicorn journal Snickets,” he smirked, offering me a hand to help me up. I scowled at him and pushed myself up, ignoring his outstretched hand. Wanker. He didn’t say UNICORN. And now he’s feeling all cocky because he knows I’m annoyed by it.
His grin widened. “I knew you couldn’t handle the extreme awesomeness of my abdomen. Don’t feel embarrassed. You’re not the first girl to have lost your head over them.”
I rolled my eyes and sat back down on the bed, holding on to my journal securely so he couldn’t sneak it away from me and read that stuff about Louis.
James sat down in front of me, still grinning madly. “Do you want another look, darling?”
I groaned. This child was severely swollen in the head if he thought that I was dedicating an entire list in my UNICORN journal to his abs, surprisingly hot though they might be.
Stop it, hormones.
James got a fake worried look on his face. “Does it hurt?” he asked anxiously, grabbing my shoulders and rubbing them. “Does it hurt to hear about my abs? Are you suffering from withdrawal?”
“Merlin, James…” I mumbled, as he burst out laughing at my slowly purpling face. Still guffawing at his amazing joke (false) he leaned over and hugged me really tight. Like, this-journal-I’m-holding-between-us-is-slowly-instilling-itself-into-my-boobs tight.
Need. Air. NOW.
“Okay, James, if you’re done choking me, you can let go now,” I said. Only it came out, “Ongajhamseffurghdunnnchudfhmeyacnuleggoono” because I was being smothered by a dripping monster.
“Erm, no, but I’ve got Lily’s old Barbies around here somewhere…?”
“Argh!” I pushed him off me with the power of my fugly UNICORN. “I said LET GO.”
“Oh, heh heh, sorry about that,” he grinned, getting off the bed to put his towel away. Phew, joke over.
I watched him walk around for a while with one thought bothering me.
Why, for all that is holy, did he have Lily’s old Barbies?
Maybe he plays for the other team. And I don’t mean Slytherin.
Ginny woke us up the next morning, yelling about how we need to get our…behinds out of bed and get dressed because Diagon Alley won’t wait for us while we dream about shagging Louis Weasley. Well, she didn’t say that. I added the shagging Louis Weasley part because, well, why not?
Also, can I just say that Ginny is quite hypocritical when it comes to using inappropriate words?
And that she’s lying, because Diagon Alley will most CERTAINLY be waiting for us.
It’s lonely and has nowhere to go.
I’m a little afraid to cross Gin-Gin when she’s angry though. Her eyes start crackling with electricity and her forehead gets all scrunched up and there’s a ginormous vein in her temple that I’ve always wanted to touch, just to see if it explodes.
I don’t think I will ever find out, however.
Anyway, we finally gave in to her incessant hatred of sleep. I was actually pretty excited about visiting Diagon Alley again. Our school letters had arrived the day before and with my ten OWLs, I was all set to start working on my NEWTs.
I’m not a nerd, I swear it.
Since James only got the five OWLs, he was even more excited to be going back to Hogwarts this year. Why, you ask in a confused manner? Because, my little friends, he gets free periods covering pretty much half the day, which he plans to spend creating plays for the Gryffindor Quidditch team this year.
Oh yeah. James has been named Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. Har-Har was over the moon.
Okay, somehow I don’t think that nicknames works for Harry.
Anyway, James is only taking Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions, and Divination. The last one is a given. He spent the entire OWL exam telling the woman testing him that she was going to meet a “tall, dark, and handsome man and set sail on the seven seas in a never-ending journey of passion and adventure.” The woman got all giggly and stupid and told him he had full marks.
I, on the other hand am taking the usual Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions, and then Herbology, Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, History of Magic…and Divination unfortunately.
James called me a stupid Flobberworm because I was upset about not getting at least an A in Care of Magical Creatures.
Wait, I had a point in all of this.
Right. Diagon Alley.
So the Potters and I got all dressed and fed in time and Ginny was a happy camper. Which happens to be a really ridiculous phrase, because what camper is happy? You have to live outside civilization with no bathroom, no privacy, and no potato chips. It’s DISMAL, I tell you.
I don’t like camping as you can obviously tell.
Anyway, I’ve lost my point again. Hope you’re happy, campers.
See what I did there?
Er. Diagon Alley. Right. So we went along with Ginevra’s demands, like docile little house-elves and made it to the aforementioned alley without any major accidental incidents from occurring. Well, Lily’s so-called skirt flew up in the breeze in front of some fit looking seventh years. But I highly doubt that was an accident.
Gin-Gin ordered us all to split up. Naturally she kept Lily with her as she went to get our robes from Madam Malkin’s, to prevent any further so-called skirt accidents from happening in the vicinity of the male gender. Or anyone really. James and I decided to head on to Flourish and Blotts to buy books like the nerds we aren’t.
As we were passing the Apothecary, James poked my arm.
“Dear God, what now.”
“You look cute.” (I did. I was hoping to run into Sex-on-Legs Louis.)
“Are you hoping to run into Sex-on-Legs Louis?” he crooned, making a kissy face.
Well at least he hyphenated all the right places.
“Nothing of the sort!” I declared, giving my shiny, bouncy hair a flip. “I look good for myself. Not boys.” What a blatant lie.
James snorted so loudly, a few of the owls perched outside Eeylops took flight. “Don’t try to fool me, Snickets. I know girls.”
My turn to snort. “You do NOT know girls okay James? You only think you do.”
“I know YOU. And by the way, it’s disgusting when girls snort.”
“I don’t count. I’m just your best friend. And by the way, you’re a bloody sexist pig.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t count at ALL. And thank you. Oh look, it’s Louis.”
I squealed, making the passers-by glare in my direction. “WHAT? WHERE?!”
Reasons Why James Sucks
1. He does things like THAT.
Because, of COURSE, Louis wasn’t there at all. And I just helped James prove his point.
I rolled my eyes as he laughed. “That wasn’t too hard to predict. It doesn’t mean you KNOW girls. What interaction have ever you had with girls anyway?” I raised my eyebrows at him as he held open the door to Flourish and Blotts for me. For a bloody sexist pig, he’s quite the gentleman sometimes.
James glanced at me, suddenly serious and not answering my question right away. Wait why wasn’t he answering my question right away? Oh dear God.
“None I suppose. You’re right,” he said finally, shrugging his shoulder and smiling. Too late. The five seconds he took to answer that question made it pretty obvious he was lying.
“Oh no you don’t.” I shook my head at him and pulled him to corner of the bookstore where a mother was attempting to get her son to put down Quidditch Through the Ages
and buy Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
That’s a lost battle the likes of Severus Snape ever having clean hair. Not that I’d know, poor man’s been dead for years.
Anyway. James. Girls. Interaction. Yes.
“You can’t get on my case for finding Louis attractive and then take FIVE WHOLE seconds to answer my question about girls!” I put my hands on my waist and glared up at him.
“So you do find Louis attractive!” James grinned sketchily, running his fingers through his hair like he does when he’s nervous.
I stared at him till he sighed. “Lemon, I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t know if it’d be awkward or not.”
Confusion. “Why would WHAT be awkward? Holy crap, did you marry someone in Vegas? DID YOU?”
James rolled his eyes. “You’re mental. No I didn’t get married in Vegas. I’m not THAT stupid.” He waited for me to make a comment about his in fact existing stupidity, but I was too caught up trying to figure out what he was going to tell me. “Okay, I can see you’re not going to get over this.”
“NO. Tell me NOW.”
James winced and pulled me in closer, so the irritating mother wouldn’t hear I suppose. “Well there was this girl in America.”
“I didn’t really like her.”
“But we got really drunk at this party.”
“And we kind of, well, we did it.”
James cocked an eyebrow at me. “Is that all you’re going to say to me? I thought you’d be, you know, reacting.”
I shrugged. “There isn’t really anything to say to that. Erm, how was it? Wait, don’t tell me I really don’t want to know.”
James smiled. “Yeah, I guess not.”
Awkward silence. I think the irritating mother heard us, because she’s looking quite interestedly at James. What a cougar. HE’S NOT GOING TO DO IT WITH YOU, NO MATTER HOW DRUNK YOU GET HIM IN AMERICA. OR EUROPE.
Well I sure hope not.
“So you’re like, a manwhore now huh?” I questioned James as the realization struck me.
“NO!” James looked outraged. “I’m not proud of it. I didn’t tell anyone. And anyway I was drunk, I wouldn’t have done it if I was really in my right mind.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You probably would, you manwhore.”
James rolled his eyes. “Well I’m glad you’re not mad at me. I’ll admit I was a little afraid you’d yell about my sheer stupidity.”
“No, I’ve accepted your manwhoreness.”
Dear ugly UNICORN. I have NOT accepted James’ manwhoreness.
This is just…preposterous. James is sweet, and silly, and INNOCENT. How could he be…de-virginized? How could he have SLEPT with someone? And not even a girlfriend, just some random chick he got drunk with at a party! Who does that? I thought that only happened in really bad teen movies. And I’ve been to my fair share of parties. Sure there’s alcohol. Sure we drink. But we don’t have SEX.
Or DO we?
Have all these drunk people at our parties been having sex THIS ENTIRE TIME? WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE? OHMYGOD how many of my friends are de-virgins? Is it a cult I’m not a part of because my best friend is a boy and won’t let me get a proper snog, let alone be de-virginized?
Figured then that James only just did it. He didn’t have little old me to look after at that dumb American party. He was free to mingle.
Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. That totally had a double meaning that I do NOT want to think about.
Wow. James is all grown-up now I suppose.
I have to stop thinking about this. I’m supposed to be watching James and the rest (as in his entire family, including Gin-Gin and Harry) play Quidditch, but all I’m doing is ranting about my best friend’s sex life.
HOW THE HELL DID JAMES SUDDENLY GET A SEX LIFE?
“Oi! Lemon!” I heard Albus yell and looked up. He was running toward me, a Firebolt in his hand. His face was all flushed and happy. Aw.
“So?” he asked me, grinning. “Do you think I’m good enough to try for the team?”
I smiled up at him. “Definitely. Go for it!” I hadn’t even WATCHED him play.
Albus smiled. “Really?”
I nodded vigorously. “Uh, YEAH.”
He looked overjoyed. “Thanks Lemon! Well, I guess I’ll go put this broom away now.”
“Yep, you do that Al!” I watched him run to the broom shed, a skip in his step.
So young, so innocent.
Soon he’ll be getting drunk and hooking up with random slags.
What’s wrong with the world?
Well at least I know James isn’t gay. To be honest, it’s a small comfort.
(A/N: Wow, shoot me now. I'm the worst updater in the history of updaters. And believe me, that's a LOT of history. I can't even begin to explain how busy I've been. Not to mention the giant writer's block that slammed me in the face till tonight. I had NO idea where this story was going and I was this close to scrapping it. Dark days, I know. I think it's mostly because I got over my friend who this story was inspired by so suddenly I had no material, no plot, no CLUE what to do. But here I am, feeling much more confident about this. I know this chapter is kinda wayward and random, but I'm just getting into the feel of things again. So bear with me. And this humungo author's note. =P Oh and read and review please! It helps keep the writer's block away! Oh and the formatting is a bit off. Whatevs. At least I updated.)
EDIT: sorry about the long waits with this story! I'm almost done with school for the summer so updates should be faster. =)