Jily one shots

the stolen glasses shenanigans

disclaimer: written by after three

Evans,

If I promise never to try and flick ice-cubes down the front of your shirt again, can I have my glasses back? Sirius and Peter have started steering me into walls.

James

:: :: ::

Evans:

Seriously. Please give me my glasses back. I have bruises. And a Quidditch game tomorrow.

James

:: :: ::

Potter:

Your glasses will not be returned until I see some sort of solid evidence that you've matured past the age of five and can be trusted with something like clear sight. Until that time, you should consider a pair of decent cushioning charms to dull the effects of walking into walls and tripping up staircases. I daresay your fan club is starting to go off you now you're covered in bruises.

L. Evans

:: :: ::

Lily --

First and foremost, know that I write this entirely of my own volition, without any outside influence. Honestly.

I understand your severe displeasure with James' decision to use your chest as target practice for his (already rather honed) sense of aim. I respect your decision to teach him a lesson resultantly. And I admit that shepherding James into walls was, for a time, rather hilarious, because truly there is nothing funnier than taking advantage of your friend's blind (excuse the pun) faith in those around him.

However it has been FIVE DAYS and I think you are bordering on animal cruelty, Lily, really. Peter may still find it funny, but Sirius has adopted this "well that's what you get" sort of attitude and is refusing to be of any use, and James is INCREDIBLY irritable, and rightly so, because walking into walls for five days straight wold make most people irritable. That leaves me, Lily, as the voice of reason, and also as James' guide dog, which is not really a career I ever considered, though I thank you for providing me the opportunity to scratch it off my list forevermore.

It is really getting quite out of hand, and as the suffering third-party to this rather ridiculous argument, I have to ask that you consider a truce.

(At least take something less vital; James really is blind as a bat, you know. It's like in Scooby-Doo, when Velma drops her glasses and is out of commission for two hours. Only it's been five days and there is about to be some sort of mutiny in the Mystery Van.)

Sincerely,
Remus

:: :: ::

Remus:

Nice try. Potter's glasses are in a safe place and will stay there until I feel he has earned the right to have them back -- something that can't be done by an intermediary begging on his behalf. Tell him to have fun at his Quidditch game tomorrow. Can I expect you to be up there on a broom as well, guiding him to the goal hoops and catching the Quaffle for him?

I would suggest you not bother yourself making sure he gets around all right -- it's not you I wish to punish, purely Potter. It's not my fault you're a hopelessly nice person, Remus. But I'm done with Potter being an obnoxious, arrogant prick all the time, and if you're going to enable his phenomenally huge head, so be it. To be frank, that's your concern.

Lily

PS: You might want to let Potter know that randomly calling me a "bitch" and "evil bint" in the hallways and the common room at the top of his lungs is not the best way to ensure the quick return of his glasses. Perhaps something a little less dramatic is in order, hmm?