𝗽𝗶𝘅𝗶𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄, james potter

02. APOLOGIES

CHAPTER TWO
✧
-: seventh year :-

─ IN WHICH JAMES ATTEMPTS AMMENDS

. . .

THE MORNING OF THE FIRST DAY was always a dreary one. For those just beginning Hogwarts it was entirely the opposite; they had little to no idea of what their day was destined to become. But for those in the upper years, it was an awful reminder of how little time they had left at the school, and the immense workload that would land on their shoulders as they progressed towards the end of it.

For James Potter, however, he set out on that morning not to wallow in the pits of depression because each lesson started with a lecture about a professor's expectation of them. No, he decided that his first day of his seventh year at Hogwarts would be entirely devoted to apologising to Matilda Moody.

He couldn't say he knew all that much about her, and perhaps that was the problem in the first place. He had spent too long following Lily Evans around only to gain absolutely nothing from it (apart from the lingering awkwardness, of course) and consequently, he was now in the dog house with a very pretty, very angry Irish girl who happened to be the daughter of a famously aggressive Auror.

And so, when he was woken up by a very annoyed Remus - because James had been the only one to not wake up to his own alarm - the Potter boy set about getting ready for the day at an invariable speed.

"That's it?" Sirius gawked, "But... but... that was ten minutes! What happened to other fifteen of vigorous hand-pulling-through-hair-for-it-to-look-exactly-the-same?"

"Dunno... just thought I'd try it like this." James shrugged, giving it another once-over. "How do I look?"

"Like you always do... except-"

"No time." James replied. "Gonna go get our timetables. See what we have first. Prepare to throw myself out of a window if it's McGonagall..." He paused, considered. "Brilliant woman but, Merlin, I can't stand all that bother first thing." He left the bedroom with the speed of an angry bludger, pricking his finger on his head-boy badge as he pinned it to his jumper.

And leaving his rather confused friends to stare after him, entirely confused as to what the hell he was doing this time? James Potter was not known for his eccentricity - if he had any say in what he was known for, it would be devastatingly good looks, incredible hair and the very best at Quidditch in the entire school - and if anyone else it would be the ludicrous attempts to go out with Lily Evans, his aptitude for stupid, often concerning pranks and the annoying fact he had the ability to somehow pass every class with the highest grades despite the fact he did nothing in every class but flirt with Lily Evans.

But James, even at the height of his crush, had never spent less than twenty-five minutes on his hair. It was more than likely it would stretch to half an hour, even forty minutes on a bad day. It would make him late for breakfast and he would come running into the hall whilst everyone else was leaving to scarf down any leftover toast, bacon if he was lucky. But he never left early, never spent less time on his hair than necessary, and certainly never made it to breakfast on time.

And Remus, who was never seriously worried about any of the menial differences in his friends' behaviour whether it be a shortened hair routine or the fact that they were a little quieter at meal times (there was no need to worry over small things; it was only the big things that really mattered) would reassure Sirius that it meant nothing, Sirius could never dismiss it just like that.

Because Sirius knew James better than the rest of them. Thick as thieves, since the moment they met on the train, and, well, considering his past record with girls and the overly-interested stance he had posed on that poor ginger girl last night, he could only assume that James was planning something.