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Parchment Scroll Writer by carondelet
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Parchment Scroll Writer

carondelet

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 selected Books 1-5 anyways. (Because there are some mild allusions if you sensitive to them…)

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: The random thought (which is the fault of RONIN10) finally continues. Not only that, it grew a bit. This is something of a companion piece/prequel to "Listless in Hogwarts", a Harry/Hermione piece, which will be posted very soon. This is Chapter Two of Three and it is still set during the Marauders' time at Hogwarts.

It's a little bit funny, it's a little bit fluffy, and it has nothing to do with the Osmonds. I felt like I had to state that.

___________________________________________

PARCHMENT SCROLL WRITER

[] OR, BUT I NEED A BREAK...

___________________________________________

He was seething and he believed that he had every right to seethe.

How dare they.

No, really, how dare they.

How bloody dare they.

"How dare they!" James Potter shouted to the Commons in general and to the tailing Marauders in particular. A few students dared to pry their eyes away from their textbooks in order to stare at him. He glowered at them furiously and they immediately turned away to avoid his wrath. "Bloody ickle firsties," he scowled. "Nothing but friggin' savages in this school." To the skies he shouted again, "HOW DARE THEY!"

"How, um, dare who?" asked a wheedling voice from behind him.

Potter stopped in his tracks, spun round, and narrowed his eyes at Pettigrew. "How. Dare. You," he snapped. "You, Wormy, and you, Moony," he added, pointing a finger at Lupin. "And especially you, Paddy." He stuck his fingers up at the approaching Black.

Sirius did a double take as he realised that he had been called Paddy (he was quite used to getting the fingers, so that elicited no reaction). Sirius readily acknowledged that he had been called many names by many people (and magical creatures) in his short lifetime, but he had never before been called Paddy. The indignation he felt slowly spread itself across his features, creasing his brow, wrinkling his nose, curling his lips, setting his chin. Black stopped in his tracks and blinked at Potter, absorbing the name and pondering its implications. He then adopted an expression that scared away those first years that had stuck around after Potter's outburst.

James rolled his eyes, unimpressed, and turned his back on his former mates.

"Oi, come now, that's no way to be," frowned Lupin. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and shuffled his feet.

Potter snorted derisively. "The bloody hell it isn't." He started to stalk away from them as fast as he possibly could. Sirius lagged behind, still attempting to process being referred to as Paddy. Lupin had no trouble in keeping pace with his long, loping strides, but Pettigrew struggled to stay close behind.

A voice floated to them on the breeze. "You don't have to get all aggro, Prongers..."

James rolled his eyes again and issued a sharp grunt. "Came to finally, did you? You are barmy to anywhere near me right now, Padders."

Black easily caught up and strode alongside Potter. "Feeling a bit brassed off still, are you, darling?"

"Don't bloody start."

"I shall bloody start. It's not our fault you got all cack-handed with your parchment there, mate, falling for the Looky Loo. You only invented the bloody move. What happened, you wake up as a clot this morning?"

"Why don't you take a long walk off of the Astronomy Tower, Black?"

Black 'hrmph-ed' at the remark and slowed enough to meet up with Lupin. "Here, Moony, why didn't you tell me it was James' time of the month?" He sent an elbow into Lupin's midsection.

Lupin cuffed Sirius' arm and sniffed at the snarky question. "I can hardly keep track of my time of the month, Paddy."

"Don't you go and get comfortable with that, you plonker," sniped Black, giving Lupin a shove with one hand.

Lupin dutifully shoved back with both hands. "Pillock."

"Wazzock." Sirius took a lazy swipe at Lupin's head.

Remus easily ducked his attack and retaliated by slapping Sirius in the back of the head.

Black reacted by punching Lupin in the soft of his stomach.

Lupin managed to stomp on Black's foot.

And that is how the Second Wizard War started.

Pettigrew, who had been observing the exchange, desperately, yet wisely, scrambled out of the way.

Black howled in pain and promptly kicked Lupin in the rear with his injured foot, howling again. Lupin was sent sprawling on the ground face first but immediately recovered and scuttled to his feet, sputtering indignities and blades of grass. The yowls of pain issuing from Sirius quickly changed to peals of laughter as he watched Lupin pull turf from his teeth. He was still laughing as Remus chased him across the Commons, though the laughter was soon put to an end as Lupin performed on Black the very same tackle that Potter had taken him out with.

"YOU PONCE!"

"SHUT YER CAKE HOLE!"

Then, simultaneously -- "Canitrei!" "Divestio!"

Potter heard some girls behind him gasping and screeching. "That's indecent that is!" bawled one. "Lupin, you're disgusting!" shrieked another. And then, "BLACK, PUT SOME BLOODY CLOTHES ON!"

"WOT'S THE MATTER, LOVE, HAVE YOUR EYES A SEEN THE COMIN' OF THE GLORY OF THE BLACK FAMILY STONKER?"

"You'd damn well better not be a comin', Black," muttered someone, "or I'll turn you into a newt. Pervert."

There was a sharp laugh. "You call that 'glory'? Hah! Your John Thomas is more like a wee Johnny Tommy, isn't it?"

"What? AH, DAMMIT! WE'RE IN BLOODY SCOTLAND AND IT'S COLD OUT HERE, YOU SCRUBBER!"

"Excuses, excuses, Sirius, no wonder the family disowned you!"

"STUFF IT, NARCISSA, YOU DIVVY SLAG!"

"Come here and try and make me, Sirius!"

"OI, THAT'S IT, YOU..."

"Oh, Merlin, no, Paddy, you're starkers," gasped Lupin. "Don't move another step!"

"YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HEXED MY ROBES OFF, MOONY! AND STOP CALLING ME PADDY!"

Potter sighed, rolled his eyes at the noise (and made a vow to stop rolling his eyes, as they were now hurting him from the repeated activity), and kept walking. He heard a muffled thump and then a stifled yell from behind him.

"Wot's that?" yelped Sirius.

"Justputmydamnrobeson," snapped Remus.

"You are a stuffed shirt, Moony."

"And you need to put one on, Padfoot."

"You're the one who hexed it off of me. Along with my robes, my jumper, my tie, my trousers, my unmentionables..."

"You weren't, um, wearing your tie," said Pettigrew.

"Wasn't I?" asked Black in return.

"No, erm, you had stuffed it in your, um, pocket. After Potions."

"Hmm. So I did."

"After Wormtail spilled his Peculium concoction on it..."

"That was never my fault!"

Potter suppressed the urge to scream his bloody lungs out from frustration and quickened his pace in an attempt to outdistance himself from the starkers Black, the white-haired Lupin, and the stammering Pettigrew.

He walked across the width of the Commons to their tree, the oak tree that the Marauders had claimed at the edge of the mall, and settled himself in amongst the roots. There was a lovely niche between two large roots in particular that was most comfortable and had come to be his spot. It was so much his spot in that he had carved something into the crux of the two roots: Prongs + Phoenix.

Of course, it was done very discreetly, so his mates wouldn't know about it. He couldn't have that. He'd never hear the end of it.

James Potter could sometimes display flashes of great brilliance, though he was loathe to allow the rest of Hogwarts in on that fact. His former mates knew that he was very intelligent (and a damned fine wizard to boot), but as far as the rest of Hogwarts knew, he was just a prat on a broom who kept his hair carefully wind-swept and pulled the odd wheeze or twenty.

He found himself wishing that Lily Evans knew the real him. Not Prongs, not Jamie the Chaser, not that Potter git, but him.

And certainly not the wanker who wrote that damned candyfloss. If only she didn't fancy it so much…he wanted her to know the real him, not the candyfloss writer. Granted, she didn't know that it was him, but…if she didn't like what he really wrote, his real voice…it was hopeless.

Bloody hopeless.

He sighed loudly and regarded the scroll in his hands with a degree of sadness. "I hate floss," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, Lily, I know you like it, but I do hate it."

"Ah, she'll understand, Jamie." Remus came around the trunk and seated himself to Potter's right.

Potter threw his head back against the tree and keened, "DEAR MERLIN, WOULD YOU LOT JUST LET ME DIE IN PEACE?" Then he rubbed the back of his head. "Ow…"

"And have you go just by sittin' here, poutin' yourself to death? Never." Sirius came round the opposite side and sat to Potter's left. "We've a much more glamorous end in mind for you."

Pettigrew sidled into the frame of James' vision and gingerly sat himself at the end of the largest root, by Potter's right foot. "Yeah, um, there are better ways to shuffle off this mortal coil than, ah, by pining away."

Potter snorted at that. At the edge of his periphery he saw Black bundling himself in Lupin's robes. He immediately felt a wave of compassionate revulsion. "Eurgh, mate…and he's all…with his bait and tackle…"

"I know, I know," Lupin moaned. "I'll never wear that robe again. It's been…compromised."

"That's nasty, that is," agreed Pettigrew. "I don't think the House Elves could ever get it right for you."

"No, I'll always know what was…swinging…hanging…rubbing…I'm after being sick now."

"You sodding bastards do know I am sitting right here, yeah?" Sirius pulled a face, wrapped the robes even tighter around him, and crossed his legs. "Bloody unfair."

"Tell me about it," grumbled James, who barely suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

The foursome sat in silence, Pettigrew trying to look everywhere except at Black, Black trying to look comfortable wearing nothing but a robe, Lupin shaking his head at the loss of the aforementioned robe, and Potter again pining away.

The silence was broken by a low chuckle. "My, my, my, what a pathetic band of wankers…"

Black growled at the sound of the voice. "And here I was, hoping that you'd died. Or gone to Birmingham."

"Why would I do either, you stupid git? Both would cause you pleasure and I bloody well don't want that."

"Did Narcissy go running to you?" Sirius flicked a glance upwards. "Pathetic. Go and bugger off, Reggie. She's a big girl now."

"She is a big girl, and I can't be fagged to clean up after her or you, prick." Regulus Black glared down at his half-brother, who lovingly returned the poisoned stare in kind. "And just what in the hell are you four nancys so morose over? Did another batch of miserable Muggles join the choir invisible?"

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, you sanctimonious cretin. Never you mind, just keep your in-bred konk out of our business."

Regulus' companions, Evan Rosier and Rabastan Lestrange, offered bitter laughs.

"Be careful when you mention in-breeding, Sirius - you are related to Regulus," Rosier intoned in his clipped voice. At that both Blacks shot him filthy glares. "And about 'our business'," he continued, "would 'our' be in reference to the…Marauders, that is how you refer to yourselves, correct? Most charming appellation, that."

"Shove it, poofter," growled Sirius.

"Oh, how droll. Ever the dim wit, Sirius," sighed Rosier, putting on a completely unaffected air.

"Don't call him that, call him by his real name, Blood Traitor," offered Lestrange.

At this, Lupin joined in the conversation. "Ah, the blouse speaks. Are you sure you have permission, Lesser Lestrange?"

"I am not the lesser Lestrange. The Lestrange family is a bloody lot more noble than your family could ever hope to be, Loony Lupin."

"Oh, now, that was cutting," snapped Sirius, getting to his bare feet. "Pardon us as we bleed from your razor-wit. Did you just come up with that one or did you have that written down on a bit of parchment, hidden in your robes?"

That served to antagonize Rabastan even further, just as Sirius had hoped. "I don't have to take this from a traitor," Lestrange bit back, edging closer to Sirius.

"Why, are you going to owl that berk of a big brother? 'Oh, Roddy, that nasty Black boy is being ever so mean to me…'"

"Stuff it, traitor."

"Make me, Rabsy."

"It is not worth even touching him, Rabastan, believe me, you might catch something," Regulus said darkly.

"Oh, you'll catch something, all right, my fist to your soft little head," muttered Lupin.

Rosier's hand started to creep towards his robes. In a flurry of movement, Potter was on his feet and had his wand pointed at Rosier. "Gentlemen, please. Rest your sphincters," James intoned sweetly. To Rosier he said, "Tut, tut, Evan," he said with a smile. "That would not be sporting now, would it?"

The three Slytherin had been caught flat-footed. James had kept himself out of their dispute and had ostensibly become invisible. James would have liked to ascribe his plan as all due to his natural cunning, but in fact he had been pining away for Lily again. And her legs. Her legs… He had not paid one whit of attention to the back and forth. Regardless of how he had gained the advantage, it remained that neither Regulus nor Evan nor Rabastan were close to reaching their own wands. Rosier blinked at Potter and slowly moved his hand away from his robes, at the gentle direction of Potter, who motioned to him using his wand.

"No, I suppose it would not be sporting," Rosier stated in a flat voice.

"Swotty prat," Regulus muttered.

"Yeah, well, this swotty prat just beat your poofter mate to a draw. Won't that come handy in a duel," Sirius laughed, slapping Potter on the back.

"It won't happen again," Rabastan scowled.

Remus, Sirius, and James all arched their eyebrows at the Slytherin and clucked their tongues. "Ooh, look, he's fierce, innit he?" crowed Sirius in his best Pepperpot voice.

Remus draped an arm over Sirius' shoulder and leaned in against him. "He's so dishy when he's after being hard," he said in his own Pepperpot.

Potter placed his arm over Sirius' free shoulder and joined in by saying, "In a few short years our little Rabastan will be a man, all ripe for the taking," and he tapped the tip of his wand against his lip suggestively.

Rabastan Lestrange's face visibly paled. "You are touched, Potter."

"Hmm, not yet, dearie, but I do have high hopes in sussing you out…those robes don't hide much, do they…"

"Bollocks to this. You bloody friggin' perverts, you can have one another." Regulus began to stalk off. "Blood traitor!" he called out over his shoulder.

Sirius made a rather vulgar kissing noise in response.

Rosier sighed; one of his trademarked sighs, and rolled his eyes. "Mentally stimulating, as always…"

Potter noted with some amusement that no one could quite do the sigh and eye roll like Evan Rosier.

"You have no idea," Lupin replied in a voice dripping with feigned lust.

With another eye-roll, Rosier followed Regulus back into the school. Rabastan wordlessly followed, giving two sets of fingers to the Marauders as he walked back across the Commons. Sirius, Remus, and James blew a perfectly timed and perfectly crude raspberry at him.

They waited until their favourite Slytherin had disappeared into the school before separating, Potter and Lupin moving rapidly away from Sirius. "Bloody hell, I didn't mean to get so close. I forgot you weren't wearing any knickers," Remus mumbled, pushing away from Black.

"Oh, darling, don't be that way, you know it hurts my feelings so…" Black made to wrap his arms around Lupin.

"ARGH, GEROFF!" Remus took a swipe at Black, who stepped aside, laughing and grinning madly.

Black was in full guffaw, holding his sides. He gathered the robes about him, and, still laughing, moved back toward the oak. He placed his hands to either side of his mouth and bellowed, "Oi, Wormy, you can come out from behind the tree now!" He continued to chuckle as he took his place at the foot of their tree.

A shame-faced Pettigrew came round from the other side of the oak and gingerly crept along his root to sit at the end. "Erm, sorry about, ah, that."

As James and Remus took their spots, Remus regarded Pettigrew quizzically. "What happened?"

"Erm, ah, evened odds and all…Lucius-"

"You mean Lussssscioussssssssssss," drawled Black, making the 's' sibilant.

"My precioussssssssssssss," Lupin chimed in.

"The two of you are daft," muttered Potter, his expression sour.

"-ah, yes, well, since it was only the three of them this time…" continued Pettigrew.

"Right, you were being gallant," finished James, his voice sounding wholly unconvinced. "How you were ever placed in Gryffindor I will never know."

"Heart of a lion?" Pettigrew offered with a meek smile and a shrug.

"An ant-lion, perhaps," Lupin sniggered. He picked up a twig and bunged it at Peter, who grinned and made a piggish face at Lupin. Lupin and Potter promptly yelped as Black reached across to punch Lupin in the shoulder, shoving James' head out of the way in the process.

"Bloody hell, man, you are after being touchy feely today…" James immediately forgot his annoyance when he followed Black's other hand, which was outstretched and had the index finger pointed in the direction of the school.

Approaching them was a small group of students.

Female students.

With their robes casually undone.

Showing off their skirts.

More precisely, that precious bit of opalescent satin softness that was beset to one side by woollen socks and to the other by worsted pleats.

"Oh Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily, legs, Lily, Lily…" babbled Sirius.

"Shut it, that's my girl," seethed Potter, giving him a fierce pinch.

But, he thought to himself, as Black sputtered profanities as him, the man does have a point.

Lily Evans, Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, Meghan McCormack, Marlene McKinnon, and Alice Pearson approached them, moving in such a fashion that it appeared to Potter as though the girls were walking through honey. Their arms swung to and fro leisurely, and their legs - with the bit of skin above the knee, from where the dark grey socks ended to where the dark grey pleated skirts began - their legs were slowly gliding back and forth, offering paced glimpses of that magical bit of satin, and their hair gently unfurled in waves behind them, kissed by the afternoon breeze, Lily's hair blazing like the fire of the setting sun, and Potter knew that they all smelled like rain and grass and wildflowers and Lily especially smelled like lavender and bergamot and -

"What is wrong with you lot?" asked a voice. It belonged to one Lily Evans. She was standing before them, looking down with an expression of amusement on her face.

"GAH!" All four Marauders started and would have fallen over if not for the merciful fact that they were sitting on the ground.

James stared up at her in dumbfounded shock, blinking slowly. Sirius had skittered flat against the tree and was in danger of having Remus' former robes spill apart. The ex-owner of the robes had actually fallen off of the bit of root he had been sitting on and was stupidly gaping up at the girls. Peter was rigid and shock still. For all James knew, someone performed the Petrificus Totalus on him.

"Huh?" said Remus.

"You. Lot. Whatever is wrong with you?" Lily asked with a giggle.

Oh Merlin, she is deadly cute when she giggles, James thought.

"W-W-W-We're…" stammered Black.

"Yeah…" added Pettigrew, finally showing signs of life.

"Right," said Emmeline Vance, a smile on her face. Out of the side of his eye, James could see Remus still staring stupidly at the girls, except now he was also smiling stupidly.

Remus is soft for Emmeline Vance, innit he?

She looked over at Lupin, and then shyly looked away.

By the looks of things, Vance is soft for him as well. Bravo, mate.

"We were a bit worried. We saw Regulus, Evan, and Rabastan come over here," said Alice Pearson.

"That…that was very nice of you, Alice," Lupin finally managed.

Bloody hell, Remus is also soft for Pearson? Make up your bloody mind, man.

James noticed that Lily had cocked her head at Sirius. "I don't mean to pry," she began, with a hint of a smile, "but why aren't you wearing any shoes…or socks…or…anything other than a robe, Sirius?"

He finally relaxed his position and pointed at Lupin. "That berk hexed my clothes off of me."

"Then where'd the robe come from?" asked Hestia Jones.

"The very same berk," replied Lupin.

Lily shook her head and laughed, and withdrew her wand. With a graceful flick of her wrist she said, "Convestio." Sirius' clothes were restored, from his shoes to his tie (which appeared in his trouser pocket) to his own robe, which appeared beneath Lupin's robes.

Sirius looked down at his restored garments, blinked, and then grinned wolfishly at Lily. "You are handy to have around, Evans." He started to extract himself from Remus' school robes.

"Don't get used to it, Black," she smirked.

Black flung the robes at Remus' head. Remus reacted as if stung. "Bloody hell, Scougify it first, you heathen!" Sirius just grinned at him. Lupin shot him an especially foul look.

Emmeline knelt down next to Lupin and gingerly took the robes from him. "Don't worry, I can take care of it for you," she said softly.

There was a snort from the group. "How lady-like," commented Black. He promptly received a lady-like set of the fingers from Meghan McCormack.

"Dammit, Ems," she said, "he can bloody do a Scourgify himself."

"But it's no bother, Meg." She performed the spell and handed the robe back to Lupin. "There you are. All sorted."

"Thank you," he smiled goofily. Remus looked to be on the verge of blushing.

"Why is your hair white?" asked Emmeline, who kept looking shyly to the side.

"Oh, that…Sirius hexed it." Remus wore the same goofy smile again.

It was at that point that James decided he had all that he could take. It was horrible enough he had to write floss; he was going to be damned if he had to be witness to it in action. He clambered to his feet, straightened his robes, and gave a perfunctory bow to the ladies present. "If you'll excuse me…" He started to walk back toward the school. Then he paused, turned round with his wand in hand, and pointed it at Remus' head. "Recreario," he said in a clear voice, and then headed across the Commons.

Sirius and Remus blinked at one another as Remus' hair went from the hexed white back to his normal sandy brown. "What the bloody hell…?" Black murmured, staring after Potter.

Remus was completely nonplussed. "What happened?"

"I would dare to say that James reversed the hex on your hair, Remus," answered Lily wryly. She looked down and spotted a rolled up scroll of parchment. "Hmm, what's this? Is it his?" she asked, pointing in the direction of the departing Potter. She had used the scroll to point at him.

"Bloody hell, yeah, that, it belongs to Prongs," Black replied absently, digging his school tie from his pocket.

Lily gathered her robes and knelt down, carefully picking up the scroll. She regarded it for a moment, something of a frown on her face. Then she looked from the scroll, then to Potter, then to the scroll again. She turned and said to her friends, "I'll see you in the Library." She flashed a smile at the remaining Marauders. "Goodbye, boys, try not to cast any hexes we can't fix." Then she started to run after James.

The three boys looked to one another, shrugged in unison, and then turned their attentions to Lily's friends. "So, ah, ladies, what are you doing this afternoon?" inquired Pettigrew, using his most winsome voice and smile.