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Playing With Fire by Voldys_Moldy
Chapter 5 : Marauders, Mary, and Marriages
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 1


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James’s POV:

“So you’re telling me that you smelled whatever the hell Myra smells like in Amortentia? Mate, you are in some serious shit.”

“Gee, thanks for the great support, Al.” Right now it’s about 2:00 in the morning and both Al and I are still in the common room, with me pacing around in front of the fire and Al yawning in an arm chair. He’s such a terrible brother.

“Why don’t you just admit that you fancy her and get it over with?” a traitor, too. I’ll through him to the wolves’ next chance I get.

“Because I don’t fancy her. I’m just attracted to her…physical attributes.”

“James, you know as well as I do that that means that she’s got boobs and a butt, but something in between, unfortunately for you.”

“Shut up, Al. And what’s that supposed to mean? Unfortunately? Does that mean you think I’m some disgusting brute or something?”

“Nah, it just means that she won’t fall for the usual shit. You’re actually gonna hafta try if you- yawn- wanna get her.”

“Who says I want to ‘get her’? That just sounds barbaric.” Stop yawning, Al. It’s rude.

“A bit. But you don’t seem to have a problem with it when it involves other people.”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. I’m just gonna go to sleep now.” He mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

“Fine. You do that. I don’t need your help, anyways.” (BLATANT LIE.)

“Mm-hmm.”

“Uh, Al, you might want to get to your dorm before you go to sleep. Just a thought.”

“Issa Friday. Calm the fuck down.”

“I don’t know why I put up with this shit, I really don’t.”

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah. Sure. You just keep telling yourself that.”

“Okay, I will.”

“Okay, you do that.”

“Git.”

“Prat.”

“Twit.”

“Asshole.”

“Bastard.”

“S.O.B.”

“Why not just say ‘son of a bitch’?”

“Because that would be calling my own mum a bitch. Idiot.”

“Huh. You have a point, for once in your life.”

“Oi! I resent that.”

“Good. You should. Now let me sleep.”

“Fine, dammit. I’ll let you fucking sleep.”

***

“James! James! Wake up! Mate, you REALLY need to wake up!”

“Mmmfff.”

What’s this fluffy thing in my face?

“I need your help!”

“Go way.”

It’s really soft… and white.

“James! I have girl troubles!”

Girl troubles?

“Freddy! My boy! What the hell do you want?”

“I think I might kind of sort of maybe fancy Amy just a little tiny bit.”

Wait, did I just spend the last minute trying to figure out what my pillow was?

Hold on, what did Freddy say?

“Sorry, mate. Could you repeat that?”

Deep breath. “I think I fancy Amy.”

Well, it’s about damn time he figured it out!

“You know Freddy; even for a bloke you’re really slow.” I yawned, pushed back my quilt, and rolled out of bed.

“…Thanks. So, um, what should I do?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen Freddy look nervous before. Ever.

“Well, you could, you know, tell her that you fancy her?” I sit up and scratch my head, messing my already messy hair more. You know what’s really weird? Whenever I mess up my hair, Smithe looks like she’s ready to kill me. Like, she just glares at me! I don’t even get it! I mean, I’m just messing up my hair. It’s not like I’m burning a broomstick or doing something equally horrible. But she just gets this really scary look on her face, and her eyes get all narrow, and she literally growls. And then she just gives me her death glare until I- why am I thinking about Smithe?

“…and that wouldn’t look good! It would ruin my image, you know?” Freddy’s looking at me with this big, pleading eyes, like I can’t possibly disagree with him.

“Er, yeah, sure. Great plan, mate. Now I’m going to get dressed and go down and eat, ‘cause I’m fucking starving.” I stood up, stretch, and bend down to paw through the pile of clothes on the floor by my bed.

Hanger? Psh, what’s a hanger?

“Oi! Potter! Get out here! I need to talk to you about Quidditch!” Smithe is the most annoying Quidditch captain ever. Unfortunately, she’s a damn good one, too, and I can’t deny that. As much as I want to say she sucks, I can’t.

Scratching my arm, I walk- more like stumble- over to the door. “James, you might want to at least put some pants on first.” I look down.

“What’s wrong with boxers? It’s just Smithe.”

“Suit yourself.” Freddy shrugs before turning back to the Potions essay that was due yesterday.

I open the door and step out in the hallway, shutting it behind me. Smithe is leaning up against the wall with her eyes closed. Without even opening them, she starts talking. “Dom just wrote a new play for the Chasers. I’m not telling Lily because it’s written for only two people, and, well…” Here she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes. And then she stops, her eyebrows shooting up and her eyes changing to that sea-green color that makes me feel like I’m watching the ocean, but a more beautiful version. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?” she asks, her voice carefully controlled but still a little higher than normal.

Well, what can I say? I have great abs. And I’m just that hot.

“Well, I was just sleeping.” I whisper, messing my hair up again and smirking at her.

“Obviously.” Her tone is short, clipped. Smithe, embarrassed? Why, I never thought I’d see the day.

“So, what was that about Quidditch? I believe you were about to admit that I’m a good Chaser?” I ask, my smirk getting bigger and bigger as she looks more and more nervous.

“Mediocre. Barely good enough for this play.” Smithe’s voice is now somewhat breathless, like she can’t believe what’s in front of her.

“Are you sure about that? Because I think that I’m a brilliant Chaser and I think that you know that, too.” I feel like a really sexy Cheshire Cat, my smirk is so big.

“Positive.” Smithe’s voice is barely above a whisper. I take a step closer to her on the already cramped landing. She could just close her eyes, but I’m pretty sure she’s too busy undressing me with them.

“Really? ‘Cause I don’t think you are.” I’m whispering now, too, and stepping closer and closer to Smithe.

This is just another game. We’re pushing each other, and whoever falls, loses. And I’m not going to lose.

“I know I am.” Her voice catches towards the middle of her sentence, mostly because I’ve got her backed up against the wall.

I put my hands on either side of her head and lean in so that we’re nose to nose. “Really?” I whisper, staring into eyes that speak of oceans and courage and pain. Staring into eyes that take my breath away.

“Really.” Her voice is barely audible, and I can tell that she is about to lose the fight. But then something changes in her eyes and they flicker back to their original dark blue. Spoke to soon. “I’m sure that you’re a pathetic worm of a Gryffindor and that you’re just a mediocre Chaser that barely made the team.” Her voice gets stronger and harder, turning to ice as she speaks.

“Or is it the other way around?” I snap, my own voice quickly morphing back into the cold one I use around Smithe.

“I’m pretty sure it’s not, because, you know, I made Captain, not you.” Smithe sneers at me, her words opening up my old wound. I know I should’ve made Captain, not her. She’s a terrible Chaser and Captain and she just sucks in general.

Seriously. I’m not kidding.

“And I wonder how you managed to do that? I’ve always wondered exactly what you do in Professor Longbottom’s office…” my voice is insinuating and lying, doing its job and snaking into her ears and wrapping itself around her mind, and then majorly pissing her off.

“I’m not some three dollar whore, Potter. I think you might be talking about your ‘girlfriends’. You know what? I don’t need to stand here and take this shit. If you decide to grow the fuck up and act like a real person, I’ll be on the Quidditch pitch, actually working. Have a nice freakin’ day.” Smithe sneers at me and then pushes me away before turning on her heel and storming away down the stairs.

I look after her, feeling slightly guilty. She really does work hard, no matter what she’s doing, and I feel like an asshole for giving her so much shit about it.

“James! James, I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Even Filch’s office. Had to check the shackles, you know.” I see a bobbing head of red hair attached to Mary O’Connor’s body come sprinting up the stairs. Are all chicks fast, or is it just me?

“Why would you check the shackles in Filch’s office?” I ask as Mary leaps up onto the landing, and without any hesitation, opens the door to my dorm and pushes me in, then follows and closes the door behind her. “Okay, what the hell are you doing?”

“Saving your ungrateful ass, that’s what. I checked the shackles because Sluggy is on the warpath. Apparently you and Myra skipped your detention last night and now he’s pissed. I wouldn’t put it past him to have hired to Filch to punish you two with his rather…outdated methods.” Mary says in a rush, and rather breathlessly, too. She takes a minute to suck in air, and glances over at me, scanning me up and down. “Nice boxers, mate. Oh, yeah, and I saw My on my way up. She looked furious. I told her about Sluggy and she just snarled and walked off. What the heck did you do?”

“It’s a long story.” I mutter, and then glance down at my boxers. I suppose I should get dressed. "Oh, and sorry about the mess." Hey, no one can say that I'm always rude.

Mary looks around the dorm and then turns to me, cocking an eyebrow. “You guys call this messy? You don’t know the meaning of messy.” She sighed and cleared some shit off of Freddy’s bed, which he was currently sleeping on. “So, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about the Marauders thing, but I got sidetracked.” She said, and then calmly pushed Freddy off of his bed and sat down where he had been sleeping.

“What the hell! I was sleeping, Mary!” Freddy yelps from the floor.

“Not anymore, Fred-o.” Mary laughs and sprawls out on the bed so that Freddy can’t sit back down.

“Mary, what were you saying about the Marauders? Do you agree?” I ask as I pull on a pair of sweatpants.

“Yeah. I’ve been relatively quiet for way too long. Anyways, I could use a friend or two.”  She said, shrugging from her position on Freddy’s bed.

I grab a T-shirt, yank that on, mess my hair up again, and then say, “Yeah, you never explained that to me. Why don’t you have any friends?”

Honestly, even though Mary’s a good four years younger than me, she’s still pretty awesome. I couldn’t see anyone not liking her unless Mary had pulled a prank on said person.                               

“Well, it has a lot to do with me pulling this epic prank on the most popular kid in our year, Louis Weasley. It involved spiders. A lot of them.” Both Freddy and I shudder at the mention of spiders. Hey, those things are creepy, okay? “Even though the target was Louis, it affected a lot of other people, too. So, basically, everyone in the room at the time who was afraid of spiders hated me, and so did all of the prissy goody-goody’s, ‘cause they were all ‘you broke the rules!’, and that just about covered everyone. I mean, if I had had any idea how many people hated spiders, I would never have pulled that stupid prank. Now I’m just the outcast, the loner. Which is kind of why I couldn’t resist checking out your map. I was so bored!”

So, basically, she's saying that one of my various baby cousins is the reason why Mary lives a life of social misery? I need to have words with Louis, and soon.

“Right. Freddy, do you think we should call a meeting?”

“Yeah. I’ll send out the message. Where should we meet?” Freddy asks as he pulls himself up off the floor.

“Room of Requirement. I’ll go ahead with Mary, and you guys meet up with me at the tapestry.”

“Right. Good plan. Just watch out for Sluggy.”

***

Myra’s Pov:

That asshole. That mother fucking asshole. I’m never going to forgive him, the dick. Son of a bitch. (No offense, Ginny. You’re not a bitch. It’s just a handy insult that a use a lot around your infuriating son.)

What the hell was he thinking? Him and his stupidly amazing muscles. He’s not a good Chaser. Maybe I should just kick him off the team and put Ash on full time. You know, that sounds like a great idea. I couldn’t care less about that stupid, no good, annoying, big-headed, prick. I swear I’m going to kill him. I swear.

Oh, who am I kidding? He’s a brilliant Chaser, I just wouldn’t admit it out loud to save my life. Really. If my ego was as big as my pride, I’d be just like Potter. (Cue massive shudders at the thought of being like Potter.)

I stalk out the doors of Hogwarts, to the Quidditch Pitch, into the locker rooms to get my broom and a Quaffle, and then back out onto the Pitch. I swing a leg over my broom and kick off, hard. Shooting up into the air, I let out a sigh as the air whistles past my face, pushing my hair (currently bright purple, in case you were wondering) back.

When I reach the same level as the goalposts, I throw the Quaffle up into the air and watch it spiral down. I wait until it reaches a dangerously low height, and then zoom after it, aiming to catch it before it hits the ground. Yes, it’s risky and stupid, but yes, it will come in handy during a game. And, anyways, I’m angry, and this is the best way to burn off some of that anger. Do something stupid while sitting on a flying cleaning implement.

Yeah, I’m not the brightest sometimes. So what? I could be standing up. Hey, that’s not a bad idea.

Before I can act on my extraordinarily stupid idea, someone zips down in front of me, grabs the Quaffle, flies up to goalpost level, and scores a goal.

“Asha? What are you doing out here?” I ask, flying up to her and furrowing my eyebrows in confusion.

It’s a known fact that Ash almost never flies outside of practice and games. No one really knows why, except maybe Rose, but we don’t push it.

“My. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. Er, this is going to be very awkward.” Ash bites her lip and shifts a little on her broom. “Rose already knows, but no one else does. I’m going to have to tell all of the Griffins sooner or later, but I just wanted to let you know now. I thought you’d be pretty understanding and I’m not quite ready for telling everyone yet.” Here Ash pauses to bite  her lip so hard it looks painful and take a deep breath. “My parents are forcing me to marry someone by the time I come of age.”

Yeah, so Potter got one over me by coming at me shirtless and now one of my best friends is being forced into marriage? Someone up there hates me, I can tell.

Current Score:

Me: -1 (I’m being generous.)

Whoever Hates My Guts Other Than Potter: 3

 

 

A/N:

Sorry it took me so long, but I kept on getting this new story ideas and then I just had to type them up, so I didn’t get around to this for awhile. I feel bad ‘cause I think this chapter is a little on the short side, but oh well. Chapter 6 will be longer, I promise.

Anyone want to leave a review? Wow, that’s not a lot of hands. Man, you guys are gonna make me cry. You’re so mean!

Just kidding. But seriously, please leave a review? I’m begging here.





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