She’d heard James leave the common room that evening in a hurry. It wasn’t a new occurrence, but there was something bothering him tonight that she couldn’t figure out. Curiosity got the better of her, as well as the opportunity to scold him for wandering around the school after curfew, so she grabbed her jacket and followed.
As he quickly headed outside, Lily kept a safe distance. The light of the moon allowed her to keep an eye on him, at least up until the point she tripped over a tree root and ended up sprawled on the grass. She blew the hair out of her eyes in frustration, quickly regained her footing and brushed herself off, frowning as she lost sight of him.
She bit back a scream as a hand grabbed her arm and she was confronted with a shocked, and very angry, James Potter. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he demanded.
“Well you can’t just disappear in the middle of the night and not expect me to follow!” she bit back in reply.
He took a breath, clearly attempting to quell his anger, whilst his eyes flickered around at the surrounding area as if looking for someone, before coming to a rest again on hers; “It’s dangerous out here Evans, go back to the castle!”
She had a million questions flitting through her mind, why he was so on edge for one, but she was most definitely not going back until she had some answers. “No! Just tell me wh-“
She was cut off upon the sound of a chilling howl, the noise causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. She quickly glanced up at the full moon and gasped as a wave of realisation hit her. Looking back at James didn’t help matters either when she noticed how his previous anger had been replaced by a look of blind panic.
“Lily, you need to go!” he all but yelled, pushing her forcefully away towards the castle.
Lily stared back at him, alarmed, “But what about you?”
“Trust me I’ll be fine, just go!” he commanded, with a look that left no room to argue.
She turned to follow his request but immediately stopped in her tracks. The sight that greeted her left her frozen in place as she was confronted with the towering form of a werewolf, teeth bared and looking straight at her.
And then all hell broke loose.
RIP Leslie Carter.
‘Wade, you’re a good guy. But if you want Zoe, you gotta stop pulling her pigtails and be a man. Comb your damn hair, huh? Put on a clean shirt.’
Let’s just say I ship Jily more than any ship I’ve ever shipped.
He was drunk.
Totally, completely, three sheets to the wind, head over arse, sloshed, foxed and drunk.
What a coot.
“Looks like we’re going to have a visitor,” I muttered flatly, though when I looked down at the place where MJ had just moments ago been quietly sitting, there was only an empty seat.
Well, where the buggering hell had he gone?
“You scared away my mate,” I told James with a quick glare when he finally managed to stumble on over towards the girls’ staircase. He was leaning lazily against the frame of the stairwell, his hazel eyes rather blurry, his grin more stupid than his usual idiocracy, looking positively high. This, you see, is what becomes of those who drink. I rolled my eyes and threw him a pointed look. “I see you had a bit of a tumble,” I muttered dryly, motioning towards the broken table, which of course no one had bothered to right. James simply grinned.
“I lost,” he told me.
“I can see that,” I said.
“I wasn’ losing ‘fore, y’know,” he stuttered, giving a little bit of a pathetic laugh, which naturally caused me to laugh because of the whole patheticness of it all and everything. “Nope,” he went on with a giant sigh, his unsteady hand coming up to his head to rustle his hair slowly. “Wasn’ losing ‘fore. Was winning, y’know. Then…humph…dunno…s’ppse…”
It was really quite priceless.
I really did adore a drunken James.
