Every Little Thing, James Potter.

09. Detention

Something told Gwen that the haunted suits of armor bewitched to throw snowballs at their passerby's were a sort of Marauders' prank, on the basis that she seemed to receive more of a pelting of snowballs than any other student in the castle. (Save for Snape, of course, who was hit by every statue in a vicinity all at once.)

     Gwen hadn't spoken to James since the day in Potions, which was ramping up to a full week ago. On the other hand, that meant that the deadline for their Amortentia was upon them, and luckily Gwen had been able to complete the potion on her own. She'd desperately wished James to come back in and give her another chance, but she knew that wouldn't be happening without an apology on her end. But she couldn't get near him without his little posse blocking her out, and he didn't go anywhere without the Marauders, so there was no reaching him. Gwen was stuck.

     But the suits of armor were getting awfully annoying, and she was sick of not seeing James.

"..if my lesson is too boring for Ms. Graham," came Mcgonagall's voice, from right in front of Gwen, and she snapped back to reality. She'd completely lost herself during Mcgonagall's lecture, and by the look on the professor's face, she was going to pay for it.

Mcgonagall glared at her sternly from behind her cat-eye glasses. She arched a sharp brow. "Something more important on your mind, Ms. Graham? Perhaps, more important than completing your assignment?"

Gwen stared up at Mcgonagall, swallowing thickly. If she had been feeling herself, she would have replied with a clever remark that brought even the faintest smile to Mcgonagall's permanently downturned lips. But Gwen was not feeling herself, and she only lifted her shoulders in response, before turning her head back down to the blank parchment before her.

Mcgonagall did not move for a moment. Gwen could feel her stern gaze through the top of her head.

"See me after class, Ms. Graham," the professor decided.

"Yes, ma'am," Gwen muttered.

She ran a hand down her face as Mcgonagall walked briskly away. Detention could probably be the worst possible thing at the moment, and she'd practically just scored herself a front-row seat to one by Mcgonagall standards.

From the table to her right, Walker leaned over, his brow furrowed with concern. "You alright, Gwen?"

She kept her face in her hands so he couldn't see her grimace. "Yep. Brilliant."

Walker frowned, averting his gaze. "It's just... We had practice last night. You missed it."

Gwen dropped her hands, turning to face Walker with a wide-eyed stare. "Are you serious? Oh, bloody hell, Walker. I'm so sorry. I completely forgot, and I just—"

"It's okay," he said, offering her a smile. "Don't worry about it. I was able to cover for you on the Grant front, but I hear Jackie wants to strangle you. Whenever she's done with her N.E.W.T. practice class, at least..."

"I'll keep an eye out for her," she said with a nod, turning back to her own desk.

Again, she buried her head in her hands. Missing Quidditch practice was a line that had been crossed, even if Walker didn't want to say it aloud. It would've been one thing if Gwen had had an excuse to be missing, but something told her it just slipping her mind would not go over well with Grant.

     Before she knew it, Sirius Black was glaring harshly at her as he walked past her desk, signifying class being over. Gwen swallowed and, averting her gaze from any of the rest of the Marauders, headed up to Mcgonagall's desk.