who knows himself a braggart

"JAMES!" Remus yelled his name in excitement, finally having found a friend. He'd been alone most of the night, sort of speaking to anybody even remotely familiar to him, and drinking whatever alcohol they'd been able to sneak in. By this point, Remus was quite tipsy, but he was so glad to now be with James. [Where the hell have you been all night? I've been looking everywhere for you.] His signs were a little more messy than usual, being quite tipsy, but he was certain that James would understand. [Come outside with me to get some air? I stole a cigarette from some eighth-year, we can split it if you'd like.]

his mockery of small talk is ignored. despite what potter might believe, narcissa has no love for the empty little nothings that etiquette dictates must be offered ; there is a reason she had not opened with such things. when he signs her gaze flickers down to follow the movement, and it is practice that allows her to keep her face still and empty.

she understands more than he thinks. one can only take so many years of being signed at from across rooms before one decides to learn. in secret, largely. narcissa has never practiced against anything other than pictures and mirrors. she knows enough to know what he says, though, despite the way her impassive eyes leave his hands to look in his eyes. spite had driven her learning of british sign language, and the need to know if he was mocking her when he signed something at her rather than spoke it.

it is rather tempting not to play this card quite yet. she has had a good deal of fun - as much fun as she ever has - eavesdropping when james and his friends thought it impossible for her to understand. narcissa is loathe to lose that ability.

[Narcissa Black, you've been holding out on me], he declared, fast movements betraying both his shock and the creeping frustration, though he immediately made himself comfortable in his preferred language. [Don't suppose you could have told me earlier before I made a fool of myself]. Of course she couldn't have. He imagined that that was part of the fun of it, making it clear that she knew more than he could have imagined, solely for the look he had no doubt was on his face now.

[I would have imagined being blasted off your precious tapestry would free you of his brilliance], he sneered, choppy and short signs conveying how little he thought of the entire thing. [Not like you seem particularly worried on the company you keep reflecting on him. These things go both ways, Black. You can't have one without the other. Don't be a damn hypocrite and liar.]

"Yes, Narcissa," he groaned with a roll of his eyes, "it is so lovely to see you too, you look stunning, I'm sure the refreshments will get better with time," he let out in a breath, following up every routine and boring pureblood conversation his family had ever complained about. Signing, he added [You know, this would be much easier if you had any idea what I was saying].

At the word that slipped out of her mouth, James' brow crinkled. It was hard to tell if that was a word he knew and it was poorly pronounced, or if his implants were on the fritz, or if his lip reading skills had suddenly decided to go to take like a Hippogryph and fuck right off. He paused for a moment, thinking. What was that word? Context meant... Oh! "My xiōngdì?" He nodded, pleased he found a word he thought worked. "They're about having fun. I'm rubbish at hearing instrumentals, you know, so I told them to have fun with it and I'd watch the room." [Why do you care?] He added, despite knowing he'd not get an answer, not from her.

♕ ‑― His laughter pulled her back to the corridor they stood in and Lily's eyebrows quirked up in amusement. "My father had a good laugh about it for weeks until it finally fade way. Mr. Weick, my father's boss, is still determined that Petunia is nothing more than those troubled and rebellious kids who listen to nothing but rock music. He's warned her fiance, Vernon, about her, you know. Little does he know, I'm the one who enjoys that sort of music." She chuckled and simply shrugged. It was nice to talk a bit about her life back in the muggle world. It was a subject that she didn't have very often and while she realized James probably would never meet any of the people she was talking about, a part of her hoped that he would. Maybe someday. "It was a complete accident but I do tend to remind Tunia of it whenever we're about to have a disagreement. She clams up pretty quickly."

♕ ‑― The compliments kept coming and her cheeks were warm. Actually, every bit of her was warm in that moment and it was entirely his fault. "Stop," she softly begged. "I can take much more of you being nice to me, Potter. I'm just going to get a head almost as big as yours." She paused before she smirked matching the tone he used on her, "kidding, kidding."

♕ ‑― Lily crossed her arms in front of her and she started down their usual root making sure that no one was out where they shouldn't be. "Speaking of the dance," she said trying her best to sound normal, "you're going right?" // @prongedwords

"Your father has a proper sense of humor," James declared with a chuckle. [Sounds like a bright man, able to warm a room], he added. The world needed more men like the type Lily's father seemed to be. The image of an upright, buttoned muggle in what was no-doubt an ill-fitting suit thinking someone who probably had a pickled face liked rock music was entirely too much for James and it sent him into other cascade of laughter at the idea. By the time it abated, there were tears in his eyes that he wiped away.

"I like muggle rock music too," he admitted with a light and easy air, despite admitting something that would make most purebloods wince. "Good bass to it. Easy to feel it. Nothing like Celestina Warbeck, thank Merlin. And there's nothing like bad hair to get a git to shut up," James added. [I'd know that best], he signed as a little joke to their shared history, hoping it wouldn't crash and burn.

"Merlin, alright," James surrendered, hands raised. "No compliments for Evans." At the comment on the size of his ego, James grinned and it was the kind of grin that promised trouble. [My head is perfectly sized. Perhaps yours is too small]? He grinned wider after that, hands moving faster. [Maybe, Evans, all that hair like a sunset has shrunk your mind and it's up to me with the glasses to have the better brain here].

At her question, James snorted. "Of course I'm going to the dance." [Wouldn't miss it for all the brooms in the bloody world, not something like this.] "I am very excited to meet the Americans," he added after a pause. "They better be decent people. Or," he added with a smirk, "have a damn good interpreter. Why do you ask?"

Winter was certainly approaching much more rapidly than Remus had anticipated. While it wasn't quite cold enough for the snow to stick to the ground yet, it was cold enough to make Remus put on his hat and gloves for the little stroll he decided to take around the grounds. It was his absolute favourite type of weather and he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to enjoy it.

With the seasons changing came the holidays, and Remus was completely lost in thought as he considered what he should get his friends for Christmas. He'd hardly even noticed that he'd reached the quidditch pitch, and definitely didn't notice anybody out practicing. But a stray quaffle landing on the ground only inches in front of him made him realize that he'd nearly walked right into practice, and he jumped back slightly out of surprise. Almost losing his balance, Remus caught himself just before tumbling backward, and he glanced around, hoping no one was paying attention to him, and he'd be able to make it out of this without being embarrassed.

♕ ‑― Lily blinked at his compliment and her hand went to cover her mouth as a shade of red settled among her freckles. "I'm certain you won't go blind," she said through soft giggles and quickly moved to rake her fingers through her curls to pull them briefly from her eyes. "Even if that happens, I'll come up with a potion to help you recover."

♕ ‑― Her nose wrinkled as she stepped up to where he was and clasped her hands behind her back. Lily was never a fan of a wager that she wasn't certain that she could win. James was partially right. The idea of a ball was stirring everyone in the castle into a frenzy. Then, add the fact that there were going to be more students from a completely different school. Chaos was going to fall onto the castle in no time. "Well, I can handle the girls if you take on the boys," she offered and held out her hand to make it an honest deal. "If anything, maybe I can fulfill by fairy godmother fantasies if I can find a solution for curling irons and shoes." // @prongedwords

The image, though, of a dark-haired woman who probably looked nothing like her sister being stuck with bright green hair and a yellow dress so undoubtedly hideous it would rival Slughorn in lingerie, paired with a smug Lily Evans was so amusing James couldn't stop the bubblings of laughter if he wanted. They rose and burst out of him like three pops and James found himself doubled over at the image. "Oh Merlin, that's hilarious. She had it coming, of course, but the mere idea..." Devolving into more laughter, James propped himself against the wall once again to support himself until he managed to stop laughing, wiping a tear from his eye. "Oh fucking hell that's a great image Evans."

Smiling at the woman across from him with a kind of softness reserved for lazy Sunday mornings in spring, James declared "Oh no, I'd absolutely go blind. It was utterly brilliant and I simply wasn't prepared. But," he added with a smile of his own, "A patented Lily Evans potion would no doubt cure me of all ills. Even the non-blinded ones."

Looking down at the hand offered to him, James looked back to Lily with a grin warm enough to fry an egg on. "You're on," he declared. "A Lily Evans fairy godmother would no doubt be most girls' dream, so as long as you don't mind me putting the idiot boys through the occasional bit of plaster, we're on." He held his hands up again. "Kidding, kidding! I wouldn't ever do that, swear. The kids are in good hands tonight between us two. Though," he added hesitantly, "I imagine they're always in good hands with you?" Looking down for a moment before looking back up, James added "I mean, I just. You seem like you'd be good with them. Understanding. I'm sure a lot of the girls trust you."

♕ ‑― "Trust me, Kathie and little Ottie have nothing on the fights that me and my sister would get into over our clothes. Petunia would much rather rip something to shreds than for me to have it fair and square." Her eyes darkened at the thought of her older sister who Lily was certain that she was glad that Lily wasn't coming home this year to be around for the celebrations. Not that Petunia would have extended an invitation to the engagement party that was happening over the break. Petunia would never have a freak around her new posh friends.

♕ ‑― Lily cleared her throat and placed on an even brighter smile replacing those sad thoughts with the task at hand. "We can only hope the yule ball excitement distracted them from the skirt problem."

Looking back up, James hoped his face was less red and a bit more normal for the remainder of the conversation. "Merlin," he chuckled, "I'm bloody glad I don't have a sister then. Sounds difficult to say the least." That level of pettiness wasn't something James could really relate to, not when he and his chosen brothers learned to turn into animals for one of their own. It didn't track to James, who saw those he loved and those he called family as more important than air. Something in the back of his mind tickled that there was a story there, something from this Petunia that dimmed that incredible smile of Lily's, and he hated it on instinct. It was that kind of immediate decision his mind was good at. After all, anything that dimmed that smile wasn't worth his time.

Of course, the return of that smile, brighter and more brilliant than before was just as damaging to his mind and James, immediately knowing he was about to return to the land of tomatoes, covered his face in his hands. "Merlin, Evans, you've got stars for teeth. Turn the brightness down, will you? I'll go blind if I look at them for too long."

James couldn't stop the short bark of laughter that seemed like it was better suited to Padfoot than himself at the comment on the ball. "There's not a chance, Evans. I'm willing to put five galleons on the fact that the ball only made the skirt issue more of a concern because now they're worried about the curling iron and the shoes and all that rubbish. We're going to have our work cut out for us on this patrol, mark my words. I'm probably going to have to stop some bloke from clocking his mate across the face because they both want to ask the same girl."

"Shut your face, James Potter," Molly said under her breath. "I don't want that getting out there. What if I try out and bomb it completely?" In all honesty, she did want to talk about her upcoming tryouts for the Gryffindor Quidditch team but not loudly. Molly whispered, "What does it feel like? Being a chaser?"

Raising his hands in surrender at Molly's hissed threat, James nonetheless was unable to stop the grin. "What, I can't acknowledge potential future teammates?" Despite the comment, he did speak quieter than he normally would have. No point announcing something before it was official, after all. "It feels like flying," James responded, shit-eating smirk on his face. "No, I'm serious," he added quickly, hands raised in surrender. "It's knowing the world can fall away to nothing but a ball, the goalposts, and your athleticism. It's knowing you have full control over it all, even if a bludger comes hurtling at you. It's flying."

♕ ‑― Her feet carried her back up to the castle as she made her way to report for her nightly duties as prefect. She tried her best to not to move too quickly all the while, at the same time she was still trying to make sure she was on time. Her need to be on time was slowly being outweighed by the nervousness that settled deep in the pit of her stomach. Her pride didn't want to admit it. There was so no way she was going to admit-- at least out loud-- that she was nervous to see him.

♕ ‑― Then, Lily saw him and once again, her stomach did a somersault and for what? James fucking Potter. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hands over the front of her jumper before she took another step forward. "I hope you weren't waiting long, Potter," she said and she lifted her chin to look up at him. "Ready for patrols?"

Even if it was Lily Evans, who had occupied a significant portion of his mind ever since he was eleven years old.

So distracted was he by attempting to not be distracted by Lily, he completely missed her arrival. "Evans," he exclaimed as he pushed off the wall. "Yes, hi. Sorry, was worried about that upcoming interschool Quidditch game." It was a lie. A bold one too, but one that he hoped rang true enough to distract from what had really been on his mind. James was trying to be better, after all. Less pushy. It wouldn't do to destroy that so soon. "I wasn't waiting long at all," he laughed with a wave as if it wasn't an issue at all. "I'm ready but if Kathryne didn't return Ottilia's skirt, I am absolutely leaving that fallout to you, full heads up. I'm absolute pants in dealing with things like that. Shall we?"

It's not that it took Molly that much longer than others to finally pick her area of study, but she hadn't wanted to pick something willy nilly just so she could say she was studying something. Not that there was anything wrong with universal studies in the long run. She thought she would. But through those classes she discovered her love of charms and how skilled she was. It was a pleasant surprise.

At dinner Molly told her brothers before anyone else. The two immediately made it a huge deal. They made sure everyone knew their little sister had decided on an area of study and was going to be a "charm master." Molly liked attention but they were ridiculous and she had to hide her face. People were excited for her but she was flustered.

"Thank you," she responded to a young Gryffindor. When she turned around she was surprised to see someone sitting close on the other side of her. "Oh. Hi there. You don't have to..."

Leaning in a bit closer, he fixed Molly with a grin. "But who gives a shite about academics. Is it true I heard you're considering Quidditch? As a chaser?"

"I'm alright - my pretty face is still in tact. Can't say the same about yours, Prongs." A joke, of course. "My pride is a bit bruised, but I can't remember a time when it wasn't."

"My pretty face is working as brilliantly as ever, and you know it," James said with a tone full of a fake threat that was betrayed by the grin across his face. "Leave my dry spell out of this, I know full well my face remains perfect." He checked it often enough in the reflections of armor and the lavatory's mirrors to be confident in saying that.

Frowning at the pride comment, James swallowed that natural block he had to discussing feelings and shoved his hands in the pockets of his trousers. "Look, mate, your pride's the only thing I've not been able to beat into submission into matching how brilliant you are as a person, so tell it to fuck off, eh? You're fine, the camera's going to be fine with just a reparo, and I don't tell my secrets to any old bloke. Nope, only Peter Pettigrew will do. First secret? My mates are the best in the world, and that includes you, Wormy."

Sirius’ head was pounding as squinted awake still feeling disorientated from the night before. He hadn’t remembered to drink enough water, he never did, he always said he would but water seemed so much harder to find than more drinks. He ran a hand through his hair noticing it was still long, sliding the hand down to the ears that were still pointed in an elven fashion. He had passed out before he had taken off any of the charms, a smart idea as drunken magic wasn’t a good idea, but neither was hungover magic. He wondered if he would just have to spend the day with silver hair and elf ears. It could be worse, but he was sure to get some strange looks unless he found someone sober on the way who could perform magic without risking something disastrous happening. 

He blinked several times trying to adjust his eyes to the light but his head still feel foggy, a headache starting to form as he looked around. Hearing a groan from one of the other beds he tried to locate the source wondering which of his friends was somewhat conscious, showing some signs of life. “Anyone alive over there?” he questioned as he slowly sat up. Even the slowness of the motion didn’t stop the slight vertigo and he closed his eyes for another moment as he adjusted to his new position. It didn’t really seem to help as he opened them once more reaching for the glass at his nightstand and taking a long drink of the water.

That groan he had made was the groan of pain and frustration at the sudden arrival of consequences from the last evening and as James began to wake up more and more, the feeling of overwhelming regret for his past self's inability to know when to stop became more and more clear. "No I'm not alive, I'm currently turning into a mushroom patch over here," James groaned as he turned over into his pillow, determined to make a valiant effort in smothering himself with it. He was glad that he was at least waking up in his own bed and not someone else's, though he was certainly regretting waking up at all. "Merlin's balls Sirius, what was in those drinks?"