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Finding Out About A Little Thing Called Love by JamesSiriusPotterII
Chapter 3 : Discussing Practices and Being Attached to HER
 
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 7


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3) Discussing Practices and Being Attached to HER

 

A/N: Short one, but I’ve been incredibly busy with other real stories and fanfics and thought I may as well get this up to keep you busy;p

 

“Umm, Prongs?” I asked sheepishly. This was it. The moment of truth. The guy in question was currently forming some of his plays using little model figures in a miniature Quidditch pitch that had been passed down from Gryffindor Quidditch Captain to Gryffindor Quidditch Captain. He looked up momentarily, looking quite pissed I had disturbed him while ‘in the zone’. Mental, he was.

 

“Yes, Padfoot?”

 

“I… I… Idon’tthinkweshoulddopracticetomorrowinHistoryofMagic,” I blabbered, shocked by how fast I spoke. He looked at me confusedly.

 

“Didn’t get a word of that, mate.”

 

“I don’t think we should do practice tomorrow in History of Magic,” I said much clearer. I got ready to face his wrath, but he just looked puzzled.

 

“Why?”

 

Oh. I’d forgotten he might ask that.

 

“The… the Cheese monster!” Don’t look at me like that. In troubled times I think of food.

 

“What the heck is the Cheese monster?” Moody much! Acting like Moony before a full moon- his nickname his Moody Moony then, get it? It’s alliteration if you’re stupid.

 

“The Cheese monster is a vicious, vile creature that steals poor little kids cheese all around the world! 10 feet high, towering over everything, with large fangs to eat all its cheese with! It’s yellow because of how much cheese it devours, and it has been the scariest thing I’ve ever had a nightmare about- excluding my mother, of course,” I exclaimed dramatically, gesturing with my hands, and baring my teeth. I swear Prongs snorted, but it’s probably just my imagination. I mean, why would he snort at me?

 

“So how does this relate to my practices?”

 

“Because… the Cheese monster is an oldie!” My creative skills were top notch.

 

“And…” he said, ushering me to continue.

 

“And we’re learning about him in HoM so I want to take notes!”

 

“You? Sirius Black? Take notes?” I nodded eagerly- this Cheese monster thing sounded quite cool. Horrid, but cool. Maybe we could learn about him in HoM! “So, you’re telling me, that the Cheese monster is a creature that is 10 foot and yellow and eats little kids cheese, and because he’s an oldie you want to take notes in History of Magic about him, so we can’t have practice,” he deadpanned. I grinned, affirming his statement with a fierce nod. “You know I don’t do bullshit man while doing Quidditch plays, man. What’s up?”

 

I sighed. I couldn’t get past that damn best mate of mine. Wait- make that damn brother of mine. “I made an unbreakable vow to Mayfield,” I whispered. His eyes widened and he stood up snappishly.

 

“You what? You are going to get yourself killed sometime these days!” he muttered sternly. I smiled shamefacedly.

 

“Evans has matured you, no?” I laughed. He blushed slightly and came to pat me on the back.

 

“Sorry, mate. I promise to never fully mature- though I’m not ready to make an unbreakable vow. What did you make it for? I’m guessing it has something to do with Quidditch?”

 

“The vow was to not let Quidditch practices interrupt her classes or studying timetable.” He gaped.

 

“But she studies all the time!”

 

“She suggested midnight practices,” I shrugged. Midnight practices were when the students had a match coming up and were very busy with exams, lets say, so your Head of House could give permission for a midnight practice session. They were very unusual- maybe two in a year per team, because they were not encouraged.

 

“How are we meant to get enough? I may need a new beater!” he exclaimed, flopping down onto the couch.

 

“Just speak to Mayfield first, maybe she has an idea,” I recommended quickly before he got anymore ideas of replacing her. He cocked an eyebrow at me.

 

“Since when did you become the rational one?”

 

I smirked. “I’m just the full package.”

 

He snorted. “Sure you are Padfoot, sure you are. Just don’t go doing anymore things that’ll get you killed-“ I was about to interrupt and say he was being far too mature before he added, “without me,” and I laughed loudly and hugged him. In a manly way of course; everything we did was manly.

 

I slouched on a couch next to Prongs’ and stared at the grand fire that lied in the heart of the Gryffindor Common Room. It blazed away, fiery and powerful; dangerous yet wonderful. Why was it so easy to not even recognize, let alone forget, Mayfield before, yet now that girl couldn’t leave my thought line for one minute? And why was the thought of her being replaced so terrifying? I soothed myself that night with the contemplation that it was simply because she was a damn good beater. That’s all…

 

-----

 

“Padfoot,” began Wormtail. I made the mammoth effort of twisting myself around to face him and replied with a polite ‘what?’ I was tired and hungry. Prongs and Remus were doing their Prefect rounds and I was far too lazy to even go to the kitchens, even though my stomach was growling like a fierce bulldog, hungry for some food delights. At this moment, it was around 2am and we were lazing in the common room, waiting for our remaining Marauders to come back from their boring prefect duties. “I want to show you a magic trick.” I looked at him incredulously.

 

“You’re a wizard, Wormtail,” I deadpanned. “Why would you want to do a magic trick?”

 

“Not the Muggle ones!” he squealed, excitedly. “The magical ones!”

 

“Magical wizards… Have a magic tricks?” I asked, confusedly.

 

“I know- it’s just amazing! But I need to people,” he sighed.

 

“Wait for Peter and Remus to come then,” I yawned, my mouth stretching open to form a black hole.

 

“But I want to show it to you now,” he whined. I sighed heavily, I could not deal with this. “Oo! How about that person in the corner?” he asked. I faced to where he was pointing, and gaped. It was Mayfield- she was studying at this time in the night.

 

“Mayfield,” I hollered and her head instantly shot up to look at me. Her eyes were dropping, with bags around the bottom, yet she looked as awake as ever.

 

“What?” she snapped, as politely as I had said that word to Wormtail just moments ago.

 

“Come over and help Pettigrew with his wizard magic trick or something like that.” She looked at me pointedly.

 

“And why should I do that, Black?”

 

“Look at the poor fellow!” I muttered, knowing Wormtail had his typical ‘please’ look. Refusing that, was like refusing an ugly four year old. His eyes went wide and even further watery than usual and his abnormally large bottom lip began trembling. She looked disgusted for a moment, before she exhaled loudly and shut her book with a slam.

 

“What d’ya want us to do, Pettigrew?” she asked, grinning, now in front of us. Wormtail looked elated.

 

“Yay!” he cried and I rolled my eyes while Mayfield appeared to be slightly frightened by his enthusiasm. “So first, I have these magic handcuffs which I need to put on your wrists,” he said, while pulling a pink- don’t ask why- set of ‘magical’ handcuffs out of his back pocket. Then he began closing one around my own right wrist, and then one around Mayfield’s left. Next, he clapped his hands together before stuffing them in his pockets and slowly rocking back and forth, from his heels to his toes.

 

What followed, was an incredibly awkward silence.

 

“What do you do now?” I asked impatiently, lifting and shaking my hand that was joined to Mayfield’s by a pair of bloody handcuffs. It was rubbing against my skin, and Mayfield start massaging her forehead with her other hand. Wormtail was rocking forwards and back from his heels to his toes, and on my speech he looked up from his feet.

 

“Huh?”

 

“How do you take these off? Do your damn magic trick!” I yelled. I didn’t want to be with Mayfield any longer than need be- she’s cramping my style.

 

You? Have style? That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard.

 

OH. MY. MERLIN. She’s in my head now! What the fuck you doing here Mayfield?

 

Eh, its cosy.

 

You know that’s scary.

 

What?

 

That you find my brain cosy.

 

Before In-My-Brain Mayfield could reply, I felt a sharp tugging on my wrist that took me out of my world and into the real one. It was Mayfield lunging at Wormtail. I gaped and wrapped my arms around her waist, keeping her back. Boy, can she fight her way out without even looking stupid. I tightened my grip.

 

“What do you think you’re doing? You’re bloody mental!” I exclaimed, and she turned to me incredulously.

 

“Did you not just hear what he said? Or have you just grown on me Black!” I looked at her confusedly, and she sighed heavily. “This,” she scowled, pointing to Wormtail who looked incredibly frightened, “cannot remember how to unlock the handcuffs! We’re stuck like this!”

 

Then I lunged with her at Wormtail, yelling some sort of war cry before I was getting pulled back by a pair of arms.

 

Not. Again,” muttered Mayfield, and span around to face Moony, and I turned to face Prongs. Forgetting about the matter at hand, I straightened up in posture and stuck my chin out as if a pompous prefect would do.

 

“Ah, it’s absolutely spiffing to meet you Mr. Potter. And how would you do today? I’m sure your highly intellectual and wise, mature mind made sure your duties as Prefect went perfect,” I said, pretentiously. He snorted for a minute before taking the same demeanor as myself, and began replying.

 

“Why, of course, Mr. Black! I must say, you are looking mighty fine today, all groomed. I thank you dearly for being so mannered as to remain in this delightful Common Room till I returned from my strenuous duties as the honourable Head Boy.” We grinned at each other.

 

“Nice to have my best mate back once in a while,” I laughed and leant in for a hug (a manly one, of course) before I felt an urgent jerk on my wrist that reminded me of my predicament. Prongs looked curiously at the handcuffs, then at me.

 

“Let me guess, Wormtail?” he smirked, and I nodded reluctantly. He was taking great pleasure in this. But suddenly he stopped.

 

“Oh wait! Mayfield?” She looked at him oddly. Not surprised, I was perplexed too. Then again, I was almost always confused. “How are we going to do the midnight practices? They’re hardly allowed!” Of course- think of Prongs to think of Quidditch at a time like this. However, it seemed Mayfield didn’t mind, and looked quite smug.

 

“McGonagall gave permission for unlimited midnight practices because I asked her,” she replied, self-superiorly, and I wasn’t surprised. Unlimited midnight practices!

 

“I could snog you right now Mayfield,” squealed Prongs (sounding an awful lot like Wormtail) and wrapped her in a large hug. My stomach churned and my eyes flared up. I guessed it was because of how disgusting that was- hugging Mayfield.

 

“Ooft, thanks, but no thanks,” rejected Mayfield, pushing Prongs away. Haha. Prongs got rejected. But he simply grinned like a little child and began skipping round with joy.

 

“Oi! Prongs! Matter. At. Hand,” I grumbled, lifting our joined hands, rattling the metal purple handcuffs.

 

“Sure,” he muttered in a daze. I sighed deeply. Some best mate.

 

 A/N: Ooo, what’s going to happen now?:O Review pleeaassee!


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