build me up buttercup [s.black]

[7] Angst

The four marauders sat talking animatedly around a table in the Gryffindor common room. Or rather, three of them did.

James Potter was gesticulating wildly, like he always did when he was excited. Peter Pettigrew was leaning forward in his chair hanging onto James' every word, his nose twitching with anticipation. Remus Lupin was sitting, as he so often was, with his nose in a book. But even he was occasionally looking up and grinning whenever James made a particularly flamboyant hand gesture. Sirius Black, however, was staring off to the other side of the room at a girl. She was sitting alone, with her work spreading over the entire table in front of her, hurriedly scribbling notes from huge textbooks and chewing on her bottom lip as she did so. He had decided that he hated her, yes he hated her. I mean after all she had rejected him, Sirius bloody Black! He felt weird about it, possibly because this had literally never happened before. And he couldn't quite recall how but he was sure that she had been very, very rude about it too.

Of course, if the teenager's ego hadn't been quite so bruised, he perhaps would have been able to take a step back from the situation and see that the girl hadn't actually be rude at all. He would have been able to see that the girl had in fact been totally justified in asking him to leave her bedside, given his track record.

But still he hated her. Yes, he definitely hated her. Hated the way her hand would shoot up when she knew the answer in class - which was often. Hated how sometimes, when she was really excited about the answer, the tips of her fingers would quiver with anticipation. And he definitely hated the way she twisted her long hair into a bun while she was revising and played with the flyaway wisps that escaped the hair bobble, like she was doing now. And he really hated the way her bright blue eyes were flickering from her textbook to her notes quickly as she analysed them, a thin line forming on her forehead as she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. Yeah he really hated this girl, so why was it he couldn't stop staring at her?

"Padfoot are you even listening?"

The boy abandoned half formed thoughts about annoying brunettes and stared at his best friend.

"What?"

"He was staring at McCawley again." Remus stated, without looking up from his book.

"How would you know?" Snapped Sirius, "You've barely looked up from that thing since we sat down. And we're supposed to be discussing something which will help you Moony. We're not breaking the law for the good of our health you know?"

"No." Remus replied evenly. "You personally are doing it because you have a severe authority complex which causes you extreme difficulty following any rules. Ever."

On the last word he looked up at Sirius and smiled.

"Not to mention we've always wanted to see the inside of the shrieking shack." Piped up Peter

"And also the fact that we're all just slightly bonkers," added James. "Especially you Padfoot, you're barking mad."

The comment coaxed a smile out of the moody boy and he relaxed, rearranging himself so that he was sitting cross legged in his armchair.

"So, when are you going to ask her out then and stop being so sulky all the time? Because don't get me wrong Padfoot, the whole teenage angst vibe is very sexy and everything but it's getting quite boring for the rest of us."

Sirius looked dejectedly at James.

"That's the thing Prongs, I can't ask her out. She won't let me near her these days. Not since the cauldron incident."

"I don't think it was so much you knocking your cauldron over, as it was you telling the whole class she was a crap keeper." Peter said, looking genuinely concerned.

"I'm with Wormtail." James agreed. "It would appear that telling the girl you fancy that she should be chucked off the Quidditch team doesn't generally make her eager to go on romantic trips to Hogsmeade with you."

"Although, I can't imagine burning holes in several pieces of classroom furniture in front of her exactly improved your chances either." Added Remus with a grin that was far too wide for Sirius's liking.

"Well what do I do then?" Sirius asked his friends, while sporting his best pout.

The other three exchanged smiles at his pleading tone and turned back to Sirius.

"The thing is mate, you're not used to hearing the word no. And especially not from girls." James said in a tone which reminded Sirius of a teacher explaining a concept to a particularly dim student.

"Unlike you, who has been getting rejected by Lily Evans since first year?" He retorted, arching an eyebrow.

"Exactly, but that's different because Evans is actually in love with me she just hasn't realised it yet." James flashed a quick grin and ruffled his already mussed up hair. "But McCawley genuinely seems to hate you, and from what you've told us, she hasn't been interested from the get-go. So I would just give up if I were you."

Sirius gaped at him. James? James Potter? Was he being told by the boy who had been pursuing the same redhead for five years to 'just give up'?! He couldn't be serious.

"W-why then? I mean, why do you think I should j-just give up?" He asked, trying to sound incredulous but sounding more panicked due to all the stuttering.

And James just looked nonchalantly up from his doodling at his best friend with a completely deadpan expression on his face

"Because I heard she bats for the opposition, Padfoot."

"What?!"

"You know what he means, Pads?" Said Remus, barely able to conceal his smile. "She doesn't shop on your aisle."

"She dines at the altar of lady ham, Padfoot." Peter suggested, earning a horrified look from his long haired friend.

"She doesn't need a pestle in her mortar, not even yours."

"She drives on the opposite side of the road."

"She catches the other bus."

These euphemisms continued for something like five minutes, slowly becoming more and more poorly crafted until the three boys were no longer able to contain themselves at the look on Sirius's face and collapsed in fits of giggles.

That was, at least, until Sirius hit them each with a hex or two.

***

"Well you have to give it to him," James said to his friends the next day at breakfast. "Padfoot sure knows his hexes."

He was sporting a set of teeth so large that the sentence came out sounding more like 'Fa'foot thoor knowth hith hexeth.'

"Yeah," Remus agreed while running a hand through his neon pink hair. "Oh by the way Wormtail, you have another fly sitting on your nose."

And Peter tried in vain to swat the fly off his foot-long nose.