The Upside of Being Down

Chapter One: Allergic to Idiots

The poor bastard hadn't a chance.

Five years later, and this fact had yet to penetrate the exceptionally thick skull of my cousin, James Potter, who truly worried me sometimes.

Take this afternoon, for instance. He'd been innocently attending our last period Transfiguration class, and doing quite well, too, for someone who'd had his attention focused on the back of Lily Evans' head for the better part of the year, as opposed to the actual lesson.

But as I mentioned, James saw himself as something of a Casanova, a winner of ladies' hearts, and was really rather a persistent sort. He wasn't about to listen to the good advice given him and had decided that today--like so many others before it--was the day.

We tried to hold him back. Really, we did. Well, all right, maybe it wasn't so much holding him back as it was Sirius and myself sitting on his face and legs (respectively) until he'd promised to give up his pursuits, already.

But no sooner had he given us his word that he'd foresworn Lily Evans for good, and we had gotten off him, did the little sneak take off like a shot in the direction of the girls' dormitories, broom in hand.

To say the least, if it'd been me in Lily Evans' place, I'd have been a little flattered. I mean, all blood relation aside, James wasn't exactly the sort to make girls run the other way screaming, especially in the looks department. And he wasn't a total prat, once you got to know him (really got to know him, mind.)

Still, neither could I particularly blame Lily for her refusals so far. After all, he wasn't going about it in quite the way any self-respecting girl would prefer. Neither threats nor unashamed (and at times borderline creepy) desperation were very coercing in the way of getting a girl you fancied to go out with you.

James, dear boy that he was, simply couldn't grasp this concept, hence the cause for his dismally complete and utter failure at wooing Miss Evans all these many years he'd been after her heart.

It was only slightly pathetic--more intriguing, really; at least for me--that none of this seemed to bother James. If not freakishly obsessed, the boy was stubborn and refused to give up, and I honestly had to admire such determination--it was easy to, as well, just so long as I ignored the fact that it was hormone-driven, rather than something respectable, like a thirst for success or anything that was slightly more relevant to his future.

Our friends--Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew--, the three of them, had considerable difficulty comprehending why Lily Evans meant so much to James. I could see their point of view easily enough, as well. They simply didn't understand James' persistence; why he didn't just give up, move on and enjoy an at least partially healthy relationship with one of the many willing girls that attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Sirius, especially, who frequently partook in said quasi-healthy relationships--liaisons, if we're being technical--, sometimes two or three at a time (I loved the boy, but he could be something of a wanker), couldn't see the justification for expending so much energy on just one girl.

But as James continuously attempted to explain to his friends--in small, simple words, so they'd be sure to understand--he was in love, whether the object of his affections returned his feelings or not, and would rather take up with a Flobberworm than date him (and she'd actually publicly announced this, too, so we knew it was true.)

As a proud member of the female population, I was slightly less incapable of seeing my cousin's side of things. In fact, I liked to think of myself as a neutral party, aware of all viewpoints and acknowledging that each had their own amount of validity.

I tried not to choose sides, but there were times--like this afternoon--where James made it extremely hard to remain impartial. And straight-faced. Definitely hard to do that.

No sooner had he disappeared up the girls' dormitory staircase, mounted on his broomstick so as to avoid sliding back down to the common room on his bum (Sirius liked to think they'd put in that particular security feature just for him), did a piercing shriek and noisy crash echo down the stairwell, followed by the dulcet tones of Lily herself:

"Potter, you total prat! I'm not dressed!"

"And point one for Prongs," Sirius murmured, licking his finger and drawing an imaginary tick in the air, then going back to his copy of the Daily Prophet.

I rolled my eyes from where I sat slumped on the sofa next to him, with my legs stretched out to warm my stockinged toes in front of the fire, my arms loosely folded. I exchanged a look of amusement with Remus, who lowered his Astronomy textbook long enough to quirk a wry brow at me.

Peter, blushing furiously at the idea of Lily Evans undressed, said, "Is he going to be in a lot of trouble, do you think?"

"Knowing his usual manner with McGonagall?" Sirius shook his head. "Lucky sod's got her wrapped around his little finger. 'Course, this won't be the first time he's snuck up to the girls' dorm to accost Evans. I imagine McGonagall's rather bored of it all by now."

I grinned (I rather thought that it was Sirius who had our Headmistress wrapped around his little finger, as opposed to James, who was simply too big-headed to believe himself capable of doing any wrong), then scrunched my toes against the delicious heat of the fire, causing goose-bumps to rise all up my legs and forearms.

"If I know James, he'll probably just tell her he was up there getting my allergy medicine for me or something," I said, noticing out of the corner of my eye Sirius' gaze fixed rather intently on my legs. "He'll end up making himself out to be a do-gooder caught in an unfortunate predicament, and likely get me in trouble in the process. Again. Pity I haven't got any allergies, besides ogling idiots," I added quite pointedly, lifting my left foot to give Sirius' ankle a sharp kick.

He raised his eyes from my legs, which were bare between the bottom of my uniform skirt and the tops of my grey knee-highs. Instead of blushing or looking ashamed--as any decent person would have done--he merely grinned wolfishly at me and winked, before returning to his clearly fascinating newspaper.

As the shouting continued upstairs, the occupants of the Gryffindor common room went on about their business as usual. Such occurrences were hardly out of the ordinary for us, and often went either ignored or gladly tolerated, what with the rather substantial amusement factor to take into consideration.

"Shouldn't you maybe go up there?" Peter asked me, squirming in his seat as he listened anxiously to a loud crash, followed by his hero's cry of pain.

I expelled a breath. "Yes, I probably should." I made no move to get up from my admittedly cozy spot on the sofa, however.

Peter continued to gaze at me expectantly, though, unable to sit still at the thought of James in any sort of trouble, and I finally rose with a muttered, "Oh hell. All right, I'm going."

I supposed that taking my sweet time going upstairs, especially now that I was already standing up, would hardly be sensible in rescuing my cousin from the considerable wrath of an incensed, probably half-naked Lily Evans, and dashed up the stairs.

The door to the dorm room I shared with the rest of the seventh year girls stood partially open and as I hurried towards it, the raised voices of Lily and James and the high-pitched squeals coming from the other girls reached whole new levels of noise. Through the crack in the doorway, I saw a huddle of my fellow, very frightened-looking dorm-mates. Lily was not among their group, but I could hear her voice, becoming increasingly louder and ever-more vulgar as her ire picked up steam.

"...dare you come in here and embarrass me like this! Can't you take a hint? You've broken at least three school rules coming up here, after I expressly told you to bloody leave me the hell alone!"

James, like the not-to-be-deterred and sadly unwise boy he was, shouted back in a pleading tone, "I'll leave you alone if you go out with me! One date, Evans, and I'm out of your hair. I promise, that's all it'll take for you to realize you fancy me back."

Lily, obviously rapidly nearing her breaking point, let out a frustrated scream, and just as I reached the door, I beheld her standing there in her dressing gown, yanking on her dark-red hair in furious aggravation.

The startled girls bunched together near the door shrieked again as I came in, and I slammed the door in my own irritation.

"Oh, shut it, he's not about to attack the lot of you, you can calm down," I snapped at them, then turned to face the duelling pair, taking in the shattered porcelain on the floor (a water ewer, I noticed, with some regret--I'd rather liked the one with the blue willow-sprigs) and both of their thoroughly ruffled appearances.

Lily seemed relieved to see me, but James didn't even look over at my entrance.

"Tia! Oh, thank God," she said, in evident relief. "Maybe you can get the message through his thick head--I'm--not--interested!" She spoke each word separately and with marked vehemence.

I smiled blandly. "But Lily--he's a man in love. D'you really expect little old me to stand in the way of that?"

"She's right, Evans," James said, with renewed fervour. "I love you, and if you'd only give me the chance to prove it--"

Lily's entire face softened and she gave him a teary, beaming smile. "Do you really love me, dearest James? Oh, that's just perfect, because I love you too, with a mad passion! Let's run away to Bimini together and make lots of red-haired, bespectacled babies!"

No, I'm only kidding. What really happened was not only not quite so much of the In-James'-Dreams variety, but also far more entertaining.

"You... you..." Lily sputtered incomprehensibly for about fifteen seconds, eyes popping in incredulous outrage, and just when I expected her to start foaming at the mouth, she found the proper words to convey what she was really feeling, deep down.

"You dick!" she burst out, stamping her foot. "You don't love me! You're too pig-headed and full of yourself to actually care about another human being! If I believed for one second you might truly have genuine feelings for me beyond an unnatural obsession for conquering the one girl who's ever refused your oh-so-irresistible charm, I'd show some interest in you. But your inflated ego and your irritating tendency to never actually listen to a word I say are just too much for words, James Potter!"

I had to hand it to Lily. There was no denying her gift for gab.

James blinked once. "Yes, but--"

Spotting Lily's sudden movement to grab for the hairbrush resting on her nightstand, and predicting her rather evident intention to lob it at his head, I decided then was the perfect time to intervene.

"Let's go now, shall we?" I said hastily, grabbing James by the arm and beginning to attempt to drag him bodily from the room.

Now, I wasn't very small, myself, standing at a decent five feet, seven inches. Nor was I exactly what one would call sturdy, but you couldn't knock me over with a feather, either. I could hold my own on a Quidditch field and, with mainly blokes for friends, was used to a bit of rough-handling.

But you try moving a boy who not only tops you by a good four inches and outweighs you by at least thirty pounds, but is entirely willing to fight you tooth-and-nail in order to stay with the one he loves.

Needless to say, my futile attempts at budging him weren't turning out to be very successful at all. He'd dug in his heels and continued to declare his certainty that Lily fancied him back, and she would realize it if she'd only look inside herself and--

His exclamations were cut short by Lily's hairbrush bouncing sharply off his temple. The resulting string of biting curses were muffled by a large, tanned hand snaking over my shoulder and clapping over James' mouth.

I looked round in surprise and took in Sirius' thoroughly amused expression.

"Right, then," he said briskly, bringing his other arm round to hook over James' chest and proceeding to haul him (rather easily, I had to grudgingly admit) towards the door. "Let's be off, Jamesy. Mustn't frighten the lovely ladies. Or act like a bloody psychopath," he added, in an undertone that only I caught.

James resisted, of course, but with my own and Sirius' combined efforts, and certain encouragement (namely, a very kind and gentle kick in the arse), we managed to get him out of the dormitory and slid down to the common room together in a heap, without too much grief--well, on my part, anyway; Sirius ended up with a split lip and James was rewarded with several bruises in the midst of our struggle--but that was neither here nor there.

Once safely locked up in his own dormitory, James had calmed down enough so that we were at least able to understand what he was saying; though, in my opinion, we were better off not knowing.

Remus and Peter had followed us up and the five of us occupied the otherwise empty boys' dormitory.

"It's right pitiable, is what it is," Sirius remarked with a rueful shake of his head, as we stood watching James sulk on his bed, muttering darkly under his breath about how close he was sure he'd come to getting Lily to admit her secret feelings, and how he'd much prefer to consort with his enemies if this was what his friends were going to be like, the ruddy traitors that we were.

"I'll assume it didn't go well," Remus said, with an ironic lift of his brow.

Sirius touched a finger to his bloodied lower-lip gingerly and replied, "Don't be silly. It was going spiffingly--up 'til the point Prongs hit puberty."

I laughed and moved his hand in order to determine the extent of the damage done to his lip. I had forgiven him for the earlier leg-ogling incident, on the grounds that a) I could hardly be cross with him for something he did all the bloody time and b) he had helped with James.

This train of thought caused something to occur to me.

Lowering my hand from his chin, which I'd been gripping to angle his head in order to allow a better view of his lip (he was a good deal taller than me, nearly six inches more), I inquired, "How did you get up there, anyway? I know you've been up to the girls' dorm before, but you didn't have your broom with you."

Sirius smiled broadly in spite of his lip, obviously quite pleased with himself. His only answer, however, was, "Oh, wouldn't you like to know?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, don't tell me. What do you think I'd do, anyway; run straight to McGonagall with your dirty secret?"

Stung that I'd even had to question the integrity of our friendship (what little integrity there was), Sirius said tetchily, "I'll have you know that not even Prongs knows my secret way up."

"Right, and if you'd tell me," said the very disgruntled, aforementioned Prongs, from where he still lay sprawled over his bedspread, "I wouldn't have to make such a spectacle of myself, flying everywhere."

"Oh, James," I said, with a deep sigh. "You make a spectacle of yourself from the minute you get out of bed in the morning. And you would be most disappointed, were it any other way."

***