Rating: PG-13 for language
Title: Parchment Scroll Writer
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings, and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling as published by, including and not limited, to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. The use of these characters and settings is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended or should be inferred.
Spoiler Alert: Aren't really any, but I went with Books 1-5 anyways. (Because there are some mild allusions if you are one to catch those…)
Summary: "Bloody hell, Potter," he said slowly, "this is…awful. Pathetic, really. I mean, just dreadful. Where in the hell did you learn to write like this?"
Pairings: James/Lily
Author's Notes: Random thought that I put to…well, not paper, but rather MS Word under a standing prescription from a dear friend (blame him). Yes, this is a very random thought indeed. This is something of a companion piece/prequel to "Listless in Hogwarts", a Harry/Hermione piece, which will be posted shortly. This is Chapter One of Two and it is set during the Marauders' time at Hogwarts.
Though I've tagged it as Romance/Humour, it's not really fluffy and it's not really funny. Go figure. Guess I am in a rotten state for either. Evil of me to make you all suffer with. Muwahahahahaha… O.o
__________________________________________________________________________
PARCHMENT SCROLL WRITER
[] OR, IT'S A STEADY JOB BUT…
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He was huddled over a scrap of parchment, jealously guarding the contents from prying eyes. He had placed himself at the end of the Gryffindor table so as not to have any nosey neighbours and was quite obviously making the most of his solitude. The feather tip of his quill waved in the air furiously, signalling his intense concentration on whatever it was that he was writing.
So, naturally, his best mates decided to interrupt him - erm, suss out the situation.
"Oi, wot's all this then? You gettin' all swotty on us?" asked Sirius Black, in his best and loudest Bleedin' Obnoxious Bloke voice. He plonked loudly into the empty space next to James Potter and craned his neck to have a butchers at what his mate was writing.
"Never you mind," Potter growled, his eyebrows knitting into a frown behind his round spectacles. He slid the parchment away from Black, who put on a face of mock indignation, and pushed it nearly into Remus Lupin, who had taken a seat to Potter's left.
Lupin gave him a toothy grin. "What about me, you are going to tell me, right?"
Potter snorted noisily and rolled his eyes. "No."
Lupin's face fell at that. Black sniggered and waggled his eyebrows at him, smirking. Lupin pulled a face and gave Black the fingers.
Potter heaved an aggravated sigh and tried to ignore the two of them. He attempted to place himself squarely in the seat, offering no view of the parchment to the leering boys on either side. He was met with the inquisitive face of Peter Pettigrew, who had taken a seat opposite him on the other side of the table.
"Would you show me?" he asked with a smile, the one he used when he was asking after one of their female classmates for a date.
"You get the same answer: no." Potter scowled, bent his head over the parchment, and continued to write.
Three-fourths of the Marauders looked to one another quizzically. It was quite apparent that straight-forward would not be the tactic this day. The three adopted thoughtful miens: Lupin pursed his lips in thought; Black ran his hand through his hair; Pettigrew tapped a fingertip against his chin. After a moment, the threesome smiled and Lupin tipped the nod to Black and Pettigrew. Both immediately caught onto his meaning.
It was time for Good Copper, Bad Copper, Nark.
Black effortlessly slipped into character. "Bloody hell, Prongs, I can't believe that you're actually writing that damned Arithmancy essay...." Then he leaned in close, practically placing his head on Potter's shoulder. "ARE YOU?" he barked into his ear.
"Merlin!" he spat, cringing away from Black. Despite the attempt to scare him off of the scroll, Potter still managed to keep his arms across the parchment, concealing the contents. Pettigrew, the Nark, shrugged at Black and Lupin, signalling his failure at divining the contents.
"Now, now, Sirius, there's no need to be nasty to the chap," said Lupin, in his best Good Copper voice. He casually placed an arm across Potter's shoulders and absently patted one arm. "I'm sure our James is simply drawing up a game plan for the match this weekend. Right?" He smiled rather endearingly at Potter.
Potter merely scowled again and shrugged Lupin off. "Geroff, Moony. You're after playing Good Copper. Don't think that I don't know. Half the time I'm -" and here he jabbed an ink-stained thumb into his own robes to punctuate the word "-the Good Copper."
"And Padfoot is always the Bad Copper," Lupin sighed. "That's not fair now, is it?" he asked, with a bit of a pout.
Black appeared to be quite put out by the statement. "And wot's wrong with my being the Bad Copper?"
"You could let one of us have a go at it ever so often," said Lupin, still pouting.
Sirius laughed loudly, pounding his hand against the table's surface. "Who of you would make for a convincing Bad Copper?" He sniggered, thoroughly enjoying the idea of someone other than him being Bad Copper. He thought for a moment, surveying his group of friends. Then he chuckled, "Shall we let Wormtail play at it next time?" and sneered at the smaller boy.
At this Pettigrew straightened up in his seat. He cleared his throat. "Well, why not? I should make a decent Bad Copper."
This made Lupin and Black laugh, and even Potter offered a snicker. "Ah, no, Peter, don't think so," laughed Remus.
"Why not?"
"Wormtail. Come now. You've not taken leave of your senses, have you?" Sirius snorted and shook his head in a negative. "You can hardly play the heavy when we're taking the piss with Snivellus."
Pettigrew scrunched his round face into a frown and clucked his tongue. "Just because I can't be as mean to him as you can be..."
"You accusin' me of being mean, Wormtail?" asked Sirius, leaning forward on the table. He narrowed his eyes at the smaller boy across from him.
Pettigrew leaned forward as well, almost meeting Black in the middle. "What if I am, Padfoot?"
James, who had been attempting to ignore his friends in order to concentrate on concealing and writing on his parchment, looked up warily and watched the faces of Pettigrew and Black. There was something about the tone of their voices that drew his attentions away from his scroll.
Sirius was shaking his head. "Ah, mate, you should not want to start with me..."
"What if I do? What if I'm tired of you being so mean all of the time? You're nothing more than a savage, a dirty great bully." Pettigrew slowly stood up, his hand moving to the inside of his robes.
"No, you bloody don't," began Black, also rising from his seat, hand moving to his wand.
Potter quickly got to his feet, his face noticeably pale at the prospect of the two of them having a duel in the Great Hall. He put a hand out to each of them to stay their wands. "Wait a tick, it's not worth a duel. Just don't do anything...." At that moment, he heard the sound of rustling parchment and footsteps beating a hasty retreat. It was then that he knew exactly what had transpired. They'd had him. With one of his very own moves. It was the Looky Loo. They'd pulled the Looky Loo on him and he'd fallen for it. "BOLLOCKS!" he swore with a shout.
He whipped around to see Remus Lupin sprinting for the doors. Sirius threw his head back and roared with laughter and Peter nearly doubled over with his chuckling.
Potter glared at them in wide-eyed shock and anger, swore revenge on the next three generations of Blacks and Pettigrews, and then tore off after Lupin.
"DAMMIT, LUPIN, STOP RUNNING!"
"The bloody hell I'm not, Potter! You'll hurt me!"
"I won't hurt you!"
"Really?!"
"No, I'm just GOING TO KILL YOU!"
"Bugger that!"
They burst through the doorway of the Great Hall, sped though the Entrance Hall, down the corridors, and into the Courtyard, where Potter launched himself into the air and tackled Lupin with such aplomb that the Muggle-borns witnessed to it thought it a pity that he played Quidditch and not rugger.
"OOF!" Lupin, who had a rabid Potter on his back, had landed on the grass very hard. The parchment came out of his hand and started to roll toward the middle of the Courtyard. Immediately, he and Potter began a mad scramble for the scroll, clawing, punching, kneeing, and shoving one another in the process as they crawled and scraped for the parchment. Potter put his hand to Lupin's head, mashing his nose.
They heard running and a familiar voice bark with laughter, "Right in the konk!"
"Dabbit, Pottwer, schtop dhat!" Lupin gave him a sound thump to the head in retaliation. "Dhat huwrt, you git!
"One to the bonce!" howled the voice again in amusement, though much closer this time.
"Bloody hell, Black's doing commentary?" James gasped, clasping his head in both hands. Then, to Remus he said, "That hurt, you wanker!" They continued to struggle for the parchment, albeit slower now thanks to the wounds they were inflicting upon one another.
They heard the laughter immediately behind them. Black and Pettigrew had followed from the Great Hall, and Black was apoplectic with amusement at the sight of his two mates crawling through the grass after a bit of paper. Pettigrew was leaning against a pillar, wiping tears from his eyes.
"DON'T YOU TWO LOVEBIRDS STOP ON OUR ACCOUNT!" Black howled, doubling over.
Both Lupin and Potter swore rather colourfully and gave Black and Pettigrew the fingers. This only served to set them to laughing even more. Lupin and Potter scowled venomously, and then started to clamber for the parchment again. Potter made it close enough to the scroll to just touch the end with his fingertips, but a brutal knee by Lupin sucked the wind out of him. Lupin made a desperate grab for the scroll and then staggered to his feet and away from Potter, who gave Lupin the most poisonous glare he could manage while curled in the grass in the foetal position, groaning.
James heard moans of commiseration from all boys present, including Black and Pettigrew. Black noticeably moaned the loudest at Lupin's action. He lamented something about, "right in the goolies, too!" Potter idly wondered if Black hadn't been at the receiving end of the business at some point. Knowing Black, he had probably been clipped quite a few times for his sundry transgressions.
When James had regained enough of his senses to breathe properly, he made reference to Lupin in a rather vulgar manner by using a Muggle turn of phrase, one that had the Muggle-born girls gasping and shrieking in disgust. "You're a swine, Potter!" a random female voice shouted from the periphery. Another shouted something along the lines of "get stuffed".
"Not right now, love," Potter gasped through grit teeth. "I'm afraid me and James Junior aren't quite up to it." He watched through teary eyes as Lupin sat himself on the ground, unfurled the scroll, and began to read. James groaned again, shut his eyes, and curled into a ball. "Remus, you're a berk," he grunted.
Lupin cast an apologetic glance at the prone boy. "Listen, mate, I am sorry, but you forced my knee, so to speak." Lupin held the parchment before him and began to read from it. James cautiously and slowly opened his eyes to watch for Lupin's reaction. He saw the other boy's face move from interested, to perplexed, to irritated, to simple dismay. Lupin looked from the scroll to James and then back again several times.
Pettigrew, who had recovered from his laughing fit ahead of Black, slowly walked over and stood by Lupin. "Remus, what is it?"
Lupin blinked and stared at James, who rolled over onto his back to face the sky. He lay with his arms spread from his sides, his feet together. He thought it to be an appropriate position for the pissing about that was scheduled to occur. He thought that it would be most convenient if, at that moment, a dark storm cloud would pass overhead and send a lighting bolt his way. Or perhaps an earthquake. A highly localised earthquake. Right beneath him. The earth could swallow him whole. Yes, a localised earthquake. That would not be a bad thing.
Remus flicked another glance between Potter and the scroll and then openly boggled at the parchment in his hand. "Bloody hell, Potter," he said slowly, "this is…awful. Pathetic, really. I mean, just dreadful. Where in the hell did you learn to write like this?"
"Write like what?" asked Black, who had finally made it over to the group. He stood behind Lupin, who raised the scroll so Sirius could read the parchment from over his shoulder. "Oh." Black glanced at Potter. "Oh." Then he cast a look back at the parchment. "OH."
"Oh, stuff it," James said. He didn't even bother to look at his friends. He was concentrating on getting that earthquake.
Pettigrew walked over to Black and Lupin, his curiosity piqued. "What is that?" He started to read from over Lupin's shoulder. He flicked a glance at Potter, who was now squinting at the threesome. Peter opened his mouth to say something.
"Not a word, Wormtail. Not a bleedin' word."
Pettigrew immediately closed his mouth.
Black took the parchment from Lupin and stalked over to where Potter was lying. He sat down on the grass next to him, crossed his legs, and waved the scroll. "Right, you. Explain this."
"It's a parchment. My bloody parchment. Can I kindly have it back now?" Potter extended his hand. Black gave his hand a swat with the parchment. "OUCH. GIT."
"You get it back when you. Explain. What. This. Is." Black unfurled the parchment and cleared his throat. "'This feeling that he held inside of him...one of intense longing...a never to be sated dissatisfaction with his self-imposed loneliness...the longing could only be negated by her. Her smile, her laugh, her...'" Sirius twisted his face into a moue of disgust and shuddered. "What is this bloody twaddle?"
"If I tell you, you'll give it back?"
Black appeared to be slightly affronted by the question. He paused, seemed to consider the implication, and then frowned at Potter. "Well, yes," said Black slowly.
"He will," confirmed Pettigrew, who had taken a seat on the grass next to Potter.
"I'll make him," added Lupin, who was now sitting next to Pettigrew.
At this Black scowled darkly. "I'd like to see you try, mate," he snapped. He nudged Potter in the stomach with the parchment. "So. What's this?"
"It's..." James closed his eyes and folded his arms over his head. "It's...candyfloss."
There a pause and then Pettigrew said, "No, I'm pretty sure it's parchment."
"No..." Potter sighed in aggravation. "The writing. The writing style. The story. It's candyfloss."
Lupin and Black traded baffled glances. "What is that supposed to mean?" asked Remus.
"Yeah, how is...'burning in his loins' and 'ripping the robes off of her' - damn, I really ought to get a copy of this bit - how is this candyfloss?" muttered Sirius.
Potter sighed again. "It's what the girls call it. That kind of writing. It's insubstantial, light, airy, sugary, with a lot of snogging and shagging. They call it candyfloss or sometimes just floss." He appeared to be embarrassed by the line of questioning.
"The girls call it this?" asked Lupin in wonderment.
"Yeah. Some of the lads as well."
Peter was gobsmacked. "You're joking," he murmured, looking from Lupin to Black.
"You have got to be bloody joking!" bellowed Sirius. "Unless these lads are Rabastan and Regulus, or Rosier or Fartbottom, or even the lesser Prewett...or Snivellus! Yes, please, let it be Snivellus..."
Lupin shook his head and rolled his eyes. He sighed, "Restrain yourself, Padfoot; it's obvious that Prongs here has a problem."
Black snorted. "There's no problem if Rabs and Regs are faithful floss readers. Snivellus too, for that matter. Please, oh please, tell me that they are, even if you have to lie to me, James."
He rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't know," stated Potter in a stern voice. He took his arms from his face and sat up on his elbows. "I just know that a lot of birds and some lads like this sort of crap."
"Crap?" echoed Peter. He blinked, confused. "So you don't like it?"
"No."
"And you write it?" Pettigrew sounded amazed.
"What?" Lupin and Black said in unison.
"I hate it," spat Potter. His aversion was made plain for them to see and hear. "I bloody hate it."
Lupin, Pettigrew, and Black traded looks of concern and puzzlement. "Then why...?" started Remus.
James sighed again, this time in something that sounded like defeat, and told them, "It's because...one of the girls who likes it...is Lily."
The three Marauders boggled and stared at Potter. "No..." began Lupin.
"Never..." started Pettigrew.
"Evans likes this crap?" demanded Black incredulously. He thought on this information for a moment and then grinned wolfishly. "That's brilliant." He clapped his hands together gleefully, and James immediately appeared disgusted. "That's just brilliant. I can't wait to use that one."
At this, James started to panic. "You can't. You can't use it. You can't tell anyone. Sirius, please."
Lupin cast a look around them. "Prongs, mate, we're in the middle of the bloody Courtyard, or haven't you noticed? We've managed a bit of an audience."
Potter's face darkened. "These berks have better gossip than us prats acting like wallys," James muttered sullenly.
"Prats?" repeated Peter, his already wide eyes bulging.
"Wallys?" added Black, turning a dangerous shade of red.
"YES." Potter snatched the parchment from Sirius' hand and hurriedly rolled it up. He pointed a finger at Pettigrew, whose face paled. "Wally." Then he pointed at Lupin. "Wanker." Lupin's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Then James directed a finger at Black. "Git." Black promptly gave him the fingers. Potter finally turned his index finger on himself. "Prat." He shook his head. "Lily doesn't know that I write...this. I use a pen name. No one other than the three of you knows that I write this, and that's the way I want to keep it."
Sirius managed an inelegant grunt, stretching his body out and leaning back on one elbow. "You should take more pride in your floss," he commented dryly.
James grimaced at him and shook his head. "Sod off, Padfoot. I hate this. I hate floss. It's not what I want to be doing." He quickly got to his feet and began to walk away from his friends, but stopped to face them. "I'm certainly not going to stand here, defending crap like this to you when I can't even defend it to myself. Lily likes it, that's all I know, and it was good enough…until you lot had to take this bloody parchment. It was hard enough to slave over in the first place. Now, knowing that you know…" He rolled his eyes, made a noise of frustration, and then stalked off.
His friends looked to one another in disbelief. Black shrugged and lay on his back, stretching. Lupin glared at him while Pettigrew watched Potter stalk off toward the other end of the Courtyard.
"We have to stop him."
"From writing ever again? Damn straight, Moony, and you, mate, are the one for the job."
"Shut it, you ignorant git. We've got to stop James. We've got to fix this." When Sirius didn't even bat an eyelid, Lupin growled and said, "Fine, I'll fix this." Lupin rose to his feet and nodded at Pettigrew. "Wormtail, you coming or not?" Then he spun round on one heel and followed Potter.
Peter looked from Remus to Sirius and back again before saying, "Sorry. But we do have to fix this. I think James is really, um, mad this time." Then he darted off after Lupin and followed him.
Black was left to lie in the grass to ponder his next move. He folded his arms beneath his head and stared at the sky. He watched the clouds overhead, idly tapping his foot against the ground. "Candyfloss. Ridiculous," he muttered. "Utter crap. Not my fault that the prat is embarrassed at writing it. He well should be. Shameful. Ought to have a bit more pride than that. And all for Evans. I thought you were over her, Potter. You been pinin' all this bloody time?" He tutted under his breath. "Not good, Prongs, not good." Sirius closed his eyes for a moment. "If you hate it so bloody much, why go through the trouble? All for Evans…Evans…" He sighed loudly and opened his eyes. "For Evans. You lovesick sod." He rolled over and onto his feet and ran after the rest of the Marauders. "The crap I do for you, Prongs…"
†