The Diary

Chapter Twenty-one - The Question

Disclaimer: In blackjack, twenty-one is a special number. In my story, it's not, or at least not with regards to my disclaimer that the characters portrayed and the setting utilised are most definitely not mine.

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I must be smart
And hide my heart
If she's within a mile
If I don't duck
I'm out of luck

She'd kill me with her smile
“That Face” - The Producers (The Musical)

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Almost two weeks had passed since Christmas. Everyone had returned to the castle, lamenting that the holiday had been too short. Classes resumed and life went back to normal. There were no external indications that anything had happened at all over break. James, of course, could not forget what he'd accomplished and often found himself daydreaming about it during class.

After a particularly tricky Transfiguration lesson, one in which James had easily mastered the technique, he and his friends adjourned to a corridor overlooking the snowy courtyard until their next class.

“That was almost too easy,” James said as he lounged against the wall. “Wish we'd learn something useful for once.”

“I still don't know what she was on about,” sighed Peter.

James rolled his eyes before resuming his task of watching the other students hurry by.

A second-year Slytherin cast a nasty look their way. James immediately whipped out his wand and sent a tripping hex his way. Peter clapped in approval and Sirius laughed.

“Nice one.”

A smug grin broke out on James' face while he made an elaborate show of stowing his wand in his pocket.

“Again, again!” cried Peter.

James, never one to disappoint, cast his gaze about in search of another Slytherin. He spotted one making her way through the crowded hall. His hand slowly withdrew his wand. The girl passed the Marauders, and as she began to turn the corner, James took action. She fell with an audible thump.

Peter applauded enthusiastically, nearly dropping his schoolbag in the process. James bowed dramatically, his left hand extending out behind him.

He looked to Sirius so that they might share a smile and was surprised to find a hint of contempt in Sirius' features. James quickly stood back up and resumed his position along the wall.

That didn't last for very long, however, for a certain redhead chose to appear at that very moment.

Even from a distance, James could see the small emerald stone that hung around her neck. His hand automatically ran through his hair and he grinned. The reminder of his earlier successes made James positively elated. It seemed that the universe had been bending itself to meet James' desires. Everything had been going so well… Why not?

“Oi, Evans!” he called out.

She ignored him, her eyes resolutely fixed straight ahead.

In the blink of an eye, James had transported himself to the centre of the corridor, effectively blocking her path. She stopped and refused to accommodate him by changing her course. Sirius and Peter flanked his sides while Emily stood to Evans' right. James didn't dare move his head to search out Remus; he was probably lurking somewhere in the background.

“Piss off, James,” said Emily. It came out strangely, like she was trying to sound scathing and pleading at the same time. In any case, James brushed it off.

Evans pushed her shoulders back and stared into James' eyes, not backing down for an instant.

“Go out with me, Evans, and I'll let you pass.”

Her face contorted in disgust. “I beg your pardon?”

“Go out with me.”

“Think you're so funny, don't you?” Evans sneered. “I'd go out with Pettigrew before I'd date you.”

James felt he should have been grinning - he'd been worrying about what to do if she said yes, and she had made her feelings on the topic quite clear - but instead he felt rather hollow. It wasn't supposed to happen like… this.

“Maybe next time, James,” Sirius said casually.

Evans grimaced. “Maybe never.” Evidently fed up, she pushed her way past James, Emily right behind her. James grudgingly let her through.

“Leave her alone,” Emily whispered angrily as she passed.

Once the girls were out of earshot, James turned to Sirius. “Think it worked?” He forced a smile.

Sirius looked out the window and readjusted his schoolbag. “Sure, James.”

“What was the plan?” asked Remus.

Sirius answered for James. “Trying to get in Evans' mind, apparently.”

“Really?” Remus asked interestedly.

“She didn't have to insult me,” muttered Peter.

Sirius laughed. “At least you've more of a chance than Antlers here.”

“Antlers?” James gave Sirius a questioning look.

“No?” Sirius shrugged. “Just testing the waters. We need codenames, and I'm tired of calling you James.'

“I like my name.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Come on, it's time for class.”

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Later that night, James curled up in bed with his copy of Evans' diary. He wondered if she would write about him.

It was all very confusing. James was supposed to be happy that she'd turned him down; she would think he fancied her and… Well, he didn't know why that was a good thing, only that it was. At any rate, James desperately wanted to know what Evans had thought about the scene in the corridor.

After the cursory greetings, she instead asked him for advice on an entirely different matter.

You know when you act a certain way, even though you know you shouldn't, and then you feel awful about it later?

Well enough to listen to you write about it.

Listen to me write?

Continue with the story.

Right. My roommate, Linda, keeps leaving her clothes all over the dormitory. It's really not a big deal, but it just bothers me. I hate tripping over her skirts because she can't be bothered to toss them into her trunk.

James didn't see where she was going with this.

Did you ask her to clean up after herself?

That's the problem - I ask her about it, but it comes out all snotty. Then she says something about how I need to loosen up. I mean, we usually get on just fine, and we're in a spat about something as inane as clothing.

I see.

He really didn't.

It's irritating because I feel like there's this tension whenever we're in the room together. I almost wonder if she does it more just to spite me… No, that seems too petty for her.

What did Emily say?

This was the sort of thing Emily was better equipped to handle; she was a girl.

That I shouldn't worry about it so much. She'll listen to me, but I can tell she thinks I'm being a bit of an idiot about the whole thing.

Let me think about this for a minute.

James didn't know what to say. Had he done that himself? No specific instances came to mind. This might be a problem - how was he supposed to advise her when he didn't have a solution?

He had to have done something like this at some point in his life. Maybe with Peter? He was the most likely candidate to experience James' snippy side.

Roscoe had to know something about this, didn't he? If only James had a magical tool that would tell him what to do.

Well, when all else failed…

Talk to her about it.

Her response was immediate.

It'll come out as an argument.

It's partially her fault, you know. She doesn't have to be such a twat about it.

James was making it up as he was going, but the resolution began to take shape in his mind.

I suppose.

And she really should keep her belongings to herself.

True.

The best way to go about this is to be up front with her. Tell her it's bothering you that you have to be a nag, but you can't help it. Hopefully she'll say something along the lines of, “Oh, Lily! You're so right! I shall immediately desist in leaving my things around, and I'm ever so sorry we were unkind to each other!”

James hoped that it made more sense to Evans than it did to him.

That sounds exactly like her! Are you sure you've never written to her?

Your sarcasm is not appreciated. I worked hard on that answer.

If you can make light of the situation, so can I.

Fine, fine.

That might work, though.

Thank Merlin.

We can only hope.

I'll talk to her tomorrow.

Good - most people don't appreciate being woken up just so someone can tell them off.

You're hilarious.

Aren't I just?

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“Hooves?”

“No!”

The weekend had come at last, allowing the Marauders another opportunity to practise turning into animals. Sirius was still attempting to transform and to come up with a decent nickname for James; he was failing miserably on both counts.

“Why don't you focus on transforming?” James asked.

“Why don't you, James?” retorted Sirius.

“Don't need to. I've already done it once.”

“But you haven't tried again,” said Peter. “How do you know you can transform when you want to?”

James scowled. “Piss off, Peter.”

Peter backed down immediately and looked at the floor.

“Steal that line from Wood?” challenged Sirius.

As usual, it was Remus who played the mediator. “I think a break is in order.”

They scattered to their respective beds to cool off. James collapsed onto his mattress and wondered why he couldn't convince himself to give the transformation another go. Whenever he thought about trying it, something just told him to put it off.

His eyes meandered around the dormitory and came to rest on Peter's small figure. He was huddled on his bed with a bar of chocolate.

James thought back to his conversation with Evans. At the time, he hadn't been able to come up with an example of pettiness. Now, though…

He crossed the room and plopped down next to Peter.

“How goes it, Peter?”

Peter sighed. “I'll never get it.”

“Sure you will. It might take a while, but you will be able to transform.”

“I'm not nearly as talented as you and Sirius,” Peter said quietly.

James smiled reassuringly. “That's why we're going to help you. You'll get it.”

“Ready for another go, Pointy?” Sirius called out.

James furrowed his eyebrows slightly. “Pointy? Where did that come from?”

“Your antlers. They're pointy.” Sirius shrugged.

“And Pointy is the best you can come up with?”

“I can see my immense talents are wasted on you,” Sirius said haughtily. “Prongy.”

“Do I even want to know?” James wondered aloud.

Sirius gestured above his head. “The antlers have prongs on them.”

“So why not just Prongs? Do you have a secret love of the letter Y?”

Sirius looked dumbfounded for a moment. “Oh.”

James laughed. “So when you become a slug Animagus, can I call you Sluggy?”

“I am not a slug Animagus,” Sirius replied indignantly.

“Are we going to actually do anything?” asked Remus.

James gestured absently. “Right, right. Transforming.”

The four reconvened in the centre of the tower and sat down in a circle. Sirius looked to James and asked, “Well, how'd you do it?”

“Er… I sort of… Give me a minute.” James tried to describe what he'd been thinking when he'd transformed, but it was all rather hazy. He couldn't seem to recall exactly what he'd done. He vaguely recalled some sort of shift in his mind but was unable to explain it clearly.

Sirius listened intently to James' depiction and tried to simulate James' thought process. After several attempts without any luck, Sirius moaned and stretched out on the floor. “We're so close, I can taste it.”

James repressed a chuckle. “I'm telling you, drunk is the way to go.”

“Oh really?” Sirius sat up. “Because you did it once, but you've yet to do it again. Even if I were drunk and I did it, it wouldn't matter because I couldn't transform when it mattered.”

He had a point, but James was still disinclined to try transforming again. If he failed, that would be that. It would mean endless months of stupid mental exercises that held no appeal for James. As long as he'd done it once, James could hold off on it without looking foolish.

What if he couldn't do it again? Sirius would never let him live it down. And how could James be expected to help Peter if he couldn't achieve it himself?

Then again, how long could James delay it for? Not much longer. He might as well get it over with.

“You're absolutely right, Sirius. I have to transform again.”

James ignored Sirius' shocked expression and lay down on the ground. He cleared his mind and tried to remember every detail from the Christmas Day incident.

No thoughts. Something about… humanity? Just stop thinking. Right now. Stop it!

The image of his Animagus form, as described to him by his friends, came unbidden to mind. It seemed to act as a focus for his thoughts, and he put every ounce of concentration into the image.

He opened his eyes.

Did it work? The question hung unspoken in the air.

“Obviously not,” replied Sirius, a slight smirk on his face.

“Damn.” James sat up and frowned. What had he done last time that was so special?

Without another word, James lay back down and relaxed. He was going to transform again.

Stop pressuring yourself. Just think about how it felt to be the stag or something. He took a deep breath. Just…

Let go.

As soon as he thought the words, a familiar tingle swept through James' body. He opened his eyes.

Yes!

Even as a stag, James could tell his friends were astonished that he'd accomplished it again. Truth be told, so was James.

Changing back was much easier this time, now that James had full control of his mind.

Once James could feel his toes, he jumped up and pumped his fist into the air. “Take that, Sirius!”

“Keep it down,” said Remus.

James composed himself, but the triumphant grin was engraved on his face.

“Why do I have to take it?” inquired Sirius.

“No reason. You can all have it as far as I'm concerned, I'm a bloody Animagus!”

“Yes, yes, now tell me how to do it,” Sirius said with a hint of impatience.

“Right.” James sat back down and stretched his legs out in front of him. “It was different this time,” he said pensively. “Like I just had to want it. It was easier, if memory serves me right.”

“You were drunk last time,” Remus said pointedly.

“True enough, but from what memory I do have…”

The four boys were up late into the night, two of them trying with all their might to copy the sensations that James described.

Neither of them succeeded.

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“No more Potions!” moaned Emily. She shoved her parchment away and leaned her head back.

“You only have the conclusion left,” said Lily, pushing Emily's essay back across the table. “And it's about Strengthening Solutions - basic potion-making principles.”

“Just let me relax for a minute.” Emily rested her head in her arms.

Lily sighed and sat back in her chair. She'd finished her own essay an hour ago and had been assisting Emily ever since. Potions, which came so naturally to Lily, was Emily's least favourite subject. Lily doubted Emily would continue the subject any longer than necessary.

As she checked over her own work, Lily absently fingered her new emerald necklace. Several wild theories on how to track the sender had been quashed by the logical side of her brain. Just drop it, she reminded herself.

“You've taken quite a liking to that necklace.”

“Hm? Yeah.” Lily tapped her finger on the table. “Who do you think sent it?”

Emily smirked. “And how long have you been wanting to ask me that?”

Lily rolled her eyes.

“I have a few ideas, but none that you'd care to hear about.”

“Of course,” Lily said with a hint of exasperation.

“Speaking of your love life, though, Valentine's Day is coming up.”

Lily groaned. “Don't remind me.”

“But you know how I do enjoy torturing you.” Emily grinned. “Do you want me to get you a date?”

Lily didn't have a ready answer to that. She'd avoided thinking about her last date as much as possible. Did she want to go out with someone? It hadn't been that bad with Greg, but still. She could probably go to the village with Diana or someone.

“I'm not sure. Maybe.”

“I made a good choice last time, didn't I? I could talk to Greg again, or maybe him…” Emily disappeared into thought for a moment. “It's up to you.”

“Greg was nice,” Lily admitted.

“Do you fancy trying someone different?”

Emily's gaze was a bit intense for Lily's liking. “Ehh…”

“I'll scope things out and get back to you.”

Lily sighed in relief. “All right.” She wondered why everyone else seemed to be much more interested in her love affairs than she was.

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That night, Lily had Prefect duties with Remus. They strolled around the third floor corridor, checking the alcoves for dishevelled students. It was late, and both were content to let the conversation lapse for minutes at a time.

“Emily asked me if I wanted to date you,” Remus commented after one of the silent intervals.

Lily turned sharply to face him.

“I turned her down,” he quickly amended.

That was surprising news. “Why?” Lily asked, resuming their stroll. “I'm not offended or anything, I just… Well, why did she ask you?”

Remus chuckled softly. “I suppose she believes that since we haven't been at each others' throats this year, there's the possibility of a romantic tryst.” He paused next to a statue of a hump-backed witch. “I'm like you, Lily - I don't date.”

Lily didn't say anything for a while.

“Why?” She hated herself even as she said it because Lily knew exactly how annoying it was to be asked something so personal.

“Not for the reasons you'd think,” he responded. “I have my own reasons for remaining a bachelor.” They started walking again.

Lily had heard her roommates gossip about Remus; he was cute in a scholarly, intelligent way. He could probably have a fair amount of girls. Lily found herself wanting to know his logic, but she dared not ask. She instead chose a more neutral question.

“Have you ever dated anyone?”

“No, and I never will.”

His response was so casual, Lily couldn't help but blurt out, “Never?”

He chuckled. “Don't worry about me. I'll have Sirius and Peter to keep me company until my dying day.”

“Not Potter?”

“No, he's going to get married.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “Why do you say that?”

“He just is,” Remus said knowingly. “He likes girls, albeit not in a mature way. Yet. But he's just that sort of person you can see dedicating his life to a relationship later in life.”

“Really?” Lily asked sceptically.

Remus smiled gently. “You wouldn't think it to look at him, but he's very devoted to certain pursuits.” He paused in thought. “He's a bit like you, actually.”

“Hey!”

He put his hands up in defeat. “It's true. You're both quite passionate when you set your mind to it.”

“If you consider bullying Slytherins to be a cause worth fighting for,” Lily replied sarcastically.

After a moment, he asked, “How did you fare on McGonagall's last exam?”

Lily allowed the change of topic; she didn't agree with Remus, but she wasn't in the mood for an argument.

Potter is, was, and always will be an insufferable prat.