First Life: The Wizard Prince & The Half-Blood Prince | Covert Romance

J: 0.1 The nerve.

                                                                                        JAMES POTTER

"Would you like another one?"

I'm startled by the stern voice of the butterbeertender and look down at my drink, amazed at how nearly empty it is, then back up at him, squinting my eyes to see the dark, long black hair that falls to the edge of his face. I grinned.

                                     He's Sirius, Sirius Black. 

The butterbeer isn't as strong as the muggle kind, and it's even safe for children to drink, but I've lost count of how many I've had.

"When do you get off?" I say, pushing my empty glass towards him. 

He grabs the bottle of newly brewed butterbeer and adds three cubes of ice to a fresh glass, hardly even acknowledging my presence.

"What the blimey hell is wrong with you?" I said, drinking it down quickly.

The sound of others laughter fills up the three broomsticks, and this new profound energy that Sirius is emitting is setting me off like mad fire. I get up and slam the now empty glass on the counter, and I reach out and grab hold of his left arm.

"How dare you ignore me," I let out.

Everything comes to a blur, and instantly I panicked as I let my wand slide down from my sleeve. I'm on edge. I had been all evening, and it was all because I bullied that pathetic excuse of a wizard, Severus Snape. Lily was not pleased with me. She questioned why I do what I do, even though it's for a simple reason. It's because his dark hair is always disgustingly greasy, and his mere existence irritates me for no apparent reason. However, she did not accept that as an answer and refuses to speak to me unless I apologize to that thing. Even a muggle born has more value, but I needed to clear my mind.

                          Reset.

                                         Decompress.

                          Relax.                                                                                          

                                       The next day

As I opened my eyes, I discovered that my arms and legs were bound to a tree. I was robbed out of my garments where my wand was not in close proximity to me. I felt vulnerable, defenseless, and pathetically scared.

"You're up,"

It takes me a few moments to register that dispassionate tone of voice, and because I had so much butterbeer coursing through my wizardblood streams, I automatically went into autolock mode and blurted out a bunch of insults.

"Why in the bloody hell are you in my presence, you filthy—excuse of a wizard—"

Severus let out a loud sigh, almost irritated, before turning his head towards me and showing me a newly brewed potion. 

"I will be the one taking Lily to the Yule Ball, Potter." Severus says, as he drinks the potion in front of me, transforming into another me.

What the heck? 

He took her to the Yule Ball the year prior, it's unfair as is already.

I shouldn't have to wait in line to take Lily Evans to the Yule Ball. 

"You're pathetic! You filthy—"

"Silencio," Severus utters,

I felt like someone had shoved a sock down my throat, and I wanted with all of my might to get my wand and torture him in agony. I can't contain my rage at him for taking on my appearance. I know that coming from the Potter family's wealthy lineage is amazing and that my very existence is a holy grail, but today he has crossed it by wearing my face, even for a single minute.

 Where in Merlin's beard did Sirius go last night? 

He left me with this sordid creature, more deplorable than the creatures from the forbidden forest.

The corner of Severus's mouth rises in a cocky, all-too-knowing smirk, and I find myself thinking just how handsome I must truly be to have such a radiant smug look, had this been a mirror instead of a fraud.

"Just so you know," Severus says with my voice.

"You're in the forbidden forest, Potter."Severus gives me a sidelong glance.

"See you in Potions class,"

Begrudgingly, I drag my eyes away from him and try to speak, but no words come out. He now shares the same face as me, not the same brain, but he should at least try to capture what my lips are saying, but instead he returns with a smirk. The clothes that he's wearing are even that of mine, so that's why he stripped me bare.                                                                                           

                                                                                          The nerve.