Bad Timing (J. Potter)

6 : The Killer Queen

The Killer Queen

"guaranteed to blow your mind anytime"

*

A few days later, Miriam found herself sprawled out in an empty corridor around midnight, her notebook lying open on her lap and a novel beside her. The stone floor was cold to the touch, but she'd charmed a blanket to keep warm. A month into the term, she'd discovered that having a prefect badge got her out of most to all trouble, so she had no issue with roaming around the castle after curfew. She knew Remus Lupin had found the same loophole, as she often found him out on nights that he didn't have prefect duty. Neither sold the other out. Sometimes wandering aimlessly was amnesia's only cure.

To say the least, the last few days had been entertaining. Thanks to Regulus' bet, Sirius Black was now bleach-blond and mute, and he was forced to take a twilight plunge into the lake with an audience of snickering Slytherins. Miriam almost thought it would be a humbling experience for the conceited idiot. Almost. On top of that, Pettigrew was forced to profess his so-called love for Slytherin House at breakfast, and Lily Evans had rejected James Potter's affections five additional times, but that was typical.

Tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear, Miriam's eyes narrowed as she reread her recently-completed chapter. Regulus had scribbled notes all over the margins in his elegant cursive. In the darkness, she had to strain to read any of it. Sighing, she switched the notebook for the book, hoping to relax.

"Who's there?"

In one quick move Miriam swept her book out of her lap and pointed her wand at the voice. Another wand was pointed right back at her, and a figure stepped closer. Both lowered their defenses as recognition set in.

"Potter."

"Greengrass."

Miriam looked up at the boy for a moment, unsure of how to react. It wasn't that she was embarrassed to be caught alone in an abandoned corridor wrapped in a magically-heated blanket, because she wasn't. There was just something uneasy about being caught at all. Other than Lupin, it had never happened before.

"What are you doing out?" She asked cooly, raising her eyebrows. "It's past curfew: I could have you in detention for this."

James barely reacted to her sarcasm. He shrugged. Only then did she realize that he was holding a small bouquet of wilting roses. They rustled with his every move.

"I've been wandering around since this afternoon," he admitted. "I don't really want to go back to the common room. Not yet, anyway."

Of course. At dinner, Miriam heard about another one of his attempts to ask Lily Evans out. This one was relatively simple, complete with flowers and and honest plea.

She nearly pitied him, and she despised pity.

"Do you mind if I sit?" He asked, his voice lacking of all emotion.

"I don't own the hallway." She gestured to the floor with the grandeur of her father at a Pureblood party. "Between you and me, wouldn't you rather wallow in your self-pity with Malibu Barbie?"

"Don't make fun of Sirius," James snapped, suddenly sharp. "He's going through it right now with his parents, and thanks to that stupid bet, he can't even talk about it. And on top of that, he thinks he looks like Lucius Malfoy, which really brings him down."

Miriam couldn't help snorting into her hand, and for a brief moment, his face lit up.

"You do have a sense of humor."