Paisley Higgs | (Sirius Black)

Chapter 5- Field Trip

Why do they make text books so darn heavy?

I mean, I get that they're just bursting with 'knowledge' or whatever, but you'd think wizards of all people could figure out a way to not make holding a stack of text books a feat of athleticism.

I struggled to elbow the doorbell and keep the teetering stack from toppling down to the Potter's porch. It was a lot harder than it sounds. I missed and ended up aggressively elbowing the side of their house several times before I finally managed it.

It had been exactly one day since my parents broke the news that I was a tragic disappointment (officially) and they were already kicking me out of the house to get started with tutoring sessions... despite my protests.

It's not that I didn't want a tutor. That part made sense. Obviously I needed any help I could muster if I was going to pass my stupid exams. The problem was that James serving as my tutor meant that whole escapade was doomed towards failure seeped in awkwardness.

Let's just disregard for a moment the fact that James Potter had been charged with the impossible task of leading me towards academic success... We'll get back to it, I promise. The more pressing issue, as I stood upon his homey porch step, was the fact that he did not like me.

No, actually, judging by his cold demeanor following the dinner party, it would have been safe to assume that boy actively despised my presence.

Every time I crossed paths with him he could do little else than scowl and run away... and this was before I accidentally stalked him and his best friend from my rooftop like a freaking weirdo.

And now I would be spending an entire day with him against my will?

Lovely.

As the charming house chimed within, I tried to steady my shaking breaths. At least my hands were full so I wouldn't have to deal with any sweaty palmed handshake situations.

At last there were footsteps... then a short pause. Part of me hoped that he wouldn't answer the door... which was a really stupid thing to even hope for.

The door flung open.

The cool air within wooshed towards me, making my copper hair fly in my face. Remember, my hands were full, so I had to sputter and blow the tangled copper mess it to get it out of my eyes... which only made me look even more like a spaz.

James Potter was finally visible.

I'd forgotten how tall he was until this moment, watching him scratch the back of his neck and ruffled his untidy hair... half-grimacing. Great start. "You're early," he muttered, frowning down at his watch.

I wasn't. I was late actually. I would have been later if Mom hadn't literally forced me out of the door that morning.

I re-adjusted the large stack of books in my arms that was becoming heavier the longer I stood there. "Sorry?"

He didn't meet my eyes, looking around the front room in a rather distracted manner, hand rested upon the door frame, checking his watch twice in a span of several seconds.

"Come on," he said with a sigh, harking to follow him in. "You can just leave those on the table."

He pointed in a random direction to the left where two end tables stood. Each with a little vase of fresh cut daisies laying upon some frilly antique doilies.

Which table did he mean?

And didn't we need the books to study?

"Um... which—"