Disclaimer: I solemnly swear I'm not J. K. Rowling and the Harry Potter series is not mine.
"AUTUMMMMMMMMN!!!!" Mom called from downstairs.
I groaned. In no way I'm going to get up.
"AUTUMMMMMMMMMMMMN!!!!!" She called a second time.
I forced one eyelid open and closed it immediately as the bright sunlight that fell through the windows blinded my eyes.
"FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, AUTUMN!!!" My mother shouted angrily from the foot of our stairs. "IF YOU ARE NOT GOING TO GET YOUR BUTTOCKS OUT OF YOUR BED THIS INSTANT, I-"
"Alright, alright." I returned, way too tired to shout back.
Slowly I lifted my blanket and sat up on my bed. I tore my eyes open and groaned again, suddenly hating that my bedroom was painted in a bright yellow. It made my mornings even harder.
I leaned my hands on the bed and was about to stand up when my feet touched something soft. I looked down to examine which pillow had made its way out of bed at night only to find that it wasn't a pillow at all.
"James!!" I hissed and poked him in his side with my toes. He mumbled something incoherent and went to sleep again. Tosser.
"JAMES!!" I tried louder, kicking him harder.
"What?" He grumbled.
"Roll over, I want to get out of bed." He turned around to face me staring down to him.
"Why don't you just get out of bed on the other side?" He raised an eyebrow.
"This is my lucky side." I shrugged. Nothing uncommon in that. Not at all.
He smirked. "Is that so?"
"Well then-" And before I even knew what was going on he pulled me from my bed, down to the floor to him. If you're wondering, he didn't fall asleep on the floor yesterday. We always sleep in the same bed - NOT WITH EACH OTHER - when he is sleeping over here or I'm at the Potter's.
So, yes, you're guess is right when you assumed that this is James Potter that is sleeping on the floor next to my bed. The same Potter who ALWAYS tosses around in his sleep and ends up on the floor. It's a grudge. Seriously. The healers say it's nothing unusual. And I mean hey, everyone I know falls out of his or her bed every night, so nope - nothing weird there.
Please tell me you noticed the sarcasm?
I giggled loudly because James was tickling me. And I'm extremely ticklish. Come near me and try it. I promise you'll learn some dark magic the moment you try.
Actually no. I'm a pretty peaceful person. And I don't use spells to hurt someone. I've got my fists for that.
I don't do violence. It's just not my thing.
"Stop it James!" I laughed and he smirked the infamous Potter-smirk.
"If the lady does wish so." He winked.
"Yes, the lady does wish so, Mr Potter." I grinned and he stopped.
"Morning to you, too, Miss Fierce."
I scrunched my nose and snuggled into his chest. "It's way to early. But mom wants me - us - to get up."
I barely remembered that my mom didn't even know James slept over. Not that it matters anyway - he's practically living here the second part of the summer holidays. You can guess three times where I spent the first part. Right. 10 points for Gryffindor!
Well, only if you are in Gryffindor. Me and James are anyway. 7th year Gryffindors to be exact. Head Boy and Head Girl. Both on the Quidditch team.
"Well, we can stay here until she comes upstairs and gives us her speech." James pondered grinning at the first time my mother didn't get her wish on one morning 3 years ago.
Meaning she got in here and shouted and screamed like a fury. Don't get the impression that she's a loud person. She's quite peaceful when she's asleep actually.
"And face the wrath of the Number 1 Erinye?" My eyes went big. "Thanks, but, no thanks."
"Just saying." He said.
"AUTUMN!" My mom bellowed just in time. James and I exchanged meaningful looks.
I counted with my fingers and James had to grin big time.
3, 2, 1-
"I KNOW YOU'RE A TEENAGER, YOUNG LADY, BUT THIS BEHAVIOR IS NOT-" The door opened and revealed an angry 40 years old lady with black hair. "Oh." She simply said eyes widening at the sight of us.
"James was allowed to sleep over, wasn't he?" I said sweetly, blinking my long eyelashes.
"S-sure." She stuttered taking in the scene in front of her, namely her seventeen-year-old daughter squished to the floor by a boy. Well, not any boy. James. My best friend of a lifetime James. James, who ran around in diapers with me.
"Mom, honestly, get a grip. There's no need to think equivocally." I rolled my eyes and James feeling a bit awkward I guess removed himself from me.
"I do not accept your language, Autumn Emilia Fierce." Whoa. No need to pull the full name, mom. My language was perfectly fine. "Kitchen duty today." I grimaced.
My last day of summer holidays and she makes me do the dishes. Awesome. "Oh and James?" She turned to him. "You can help Autumn, while you're still here."
She gave us a last disgustingly sweet smile before she closed the door behind her.
James and I looked at each other and we fell back on the floor, groaning.