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What Would Sirius Do?


James had watched Lily and Severus Snape leave the Great Hall, and he’d caught Annalee up into his arms the moment they had. “Let’s got for a walk,” he suggested.

She shook her head, “No, I want to keep dancing!” she said, “This is so much fun. Aren’t you having so much fun?”

“Yeah, a blast, but listen, I’m really hot -- just a quick walk.”

Annalee frowned, but she relented, and followed James off the dance floor. James started for the entrance hall, “Wait, where are you going?” she asked, she’d stopped at the refreshment table, pointing to the punch and eggnog.

“I told you, I’m hot,” James said, running a hand through his hair to make sure it was still messed up, “I’m just going to step outside a moment.”

“Outside!” Annalee exclaimed, “James, it’s probably like ten degrees out there. Are you mad? I can’t go out there like this!” Her dress was sleeveless - he’d been thinking all night that it had to have been held in place by magic because some of the dance moves she’d been doing… well, he imagined it should’ve fallen down or something might’ve fallen out otherwise.

“So stay here then,” he said. “Look, Peter Pettigrew’s right over there, so that’s the table my mates are at. I’ll only be a moment. I’ve just got to go out and get a breather or I’m going to pass out, love.” He fanned himself dramatically.

Annalee looked nervous, “Maybe I should go with you, if you think you might pass out --”

“I’ll be fine, don’t get cold on account of me. Go on, get some food and drink and I’ll be back in a moment.” He waved her off and before she could change her mind again, he hurried to duck out of the Great Hall.

Annalee sighed and frowned and went over to the table where Peter was sitting and lowered herself into the seat that Sirius had been in before. Peter was just eating the very last of the gingerbread cake that he’d brought over - all of it, even the pieces he’d intended for Sirius. He had crumbs all down the front of him and when Annalee sat down, heaving the heaviest sigh he’d ever heard, he rushed to frantically sweep them all off himself in a panic, staring over at the back of her head with wide, panicked eyes. She kept her eyes on the dance floor, not even looking at him, but her hands on her knees, running her fingers over the merlot colored velvet.

Peter swallowed and tried to say something - the first time only getting a funny hhhUUUHHhhh sound to squeak out, barely audibly. He closed his eyes, red-faced, but she hadn’t noticed the sound, or at least hadn’t reacted to it, so he took a deep breath and told himself firmly, she’s just a girl, just a girl, just any old girl, like talking to Evans, same as Evans He cleared his throat.

Annalee turned around.

Peter felt his guts tie in knots. “Hhhhhhhhi,” he said, drawing out the H-sound as he had to force the rest of it to come out.

“Hullo,” she said sullenly.

Merlin, even sad she’s beautiful. Peter thought. Like a crying swan. So graceful, so beautiful, so incredible, a dream, a picture of perfection, an angel…

She’s just a girl though, Peter. Just a girl. Just like Lily Evans is a girl. Just a girl. You can do this.

“How’s… Dancing… The dancing… and James…. The… is it… the… good going?” he stammered stupidly.

Bloody hell, was that even English? I’m such an idiot. Idiot. IDIOT. Peter, you’re an idiot. Oh she thinks I’m stupid now. She’s right, Peter, you are stupid. A stupid idiot. STUPID, STUPID, STUPID…

“It’s going alright,” Annalee replied as though he’d said everything correctly.

Peter blinked in surprise. “You understood that?” he said, his shock overcoming his fear.

Annalee laughed, “It was a bit cryptic, but sure. Sort of a puzzle, I guess.”

Peter flushed. “Nervous. I am. Sorry, I mean. I -- stupid stuff just comes out -- mean. Nervous. I’m stupid because I’m nervous. Not always. I’m usually - well I’m usually stupid for other reasons.”

Annalee laughed, “What are you nervous about, Peter Pettigrew?”

She laughed. She thinks you’re funny. SHE THINKS YOU’RE FUNNY, BLOODY HELL, ARE YOU FUNNY? WHAT’S IT LIKE TO BE FUNNY? JAMES WOULD KNOW. Where the bloody hell is James? Am I going to get in trouble for making Annalee laugh when that’s James’s job? Who cares? Annalee McKinnon thinks I’m FUNNY! Me, Peter Pettigrew!

“Peter?” Annalee looked concerned.

“Oh, you - you’re making me nervous,” he blurted out, realizing he hadn’t answered yet, he’d been too busy reacting to that angle giggle of a laugh she’d had. “Pretty girls like you make me stupid. Nervous. Stupidly nervous. You know, I already said all of that.”

Annalee smiled, “You think I’m pretty?”

“I THINK YOU’RE GORGEOUS, LIKE A SWAN!” he blurted out and the moment he had he clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide in a panic.

Annalee smiled and she laughed. Her eyes twinkled mischievously, “Are you saying that I have a long neck.”

“No no, not long. Well not short either. Just right. I did’nt - by swan - I meant - because - they’re pretty, see, not the neck thing. No, not long. Just - just right. I LOVE YOUR NECK!” Peter stammered.

Annalee laughed. “You’re cute.”

Peter thought he might just die. “ME?” he blurted.

“Yes, you. You’re adorable.”

Be cool. Be cool. Deep breaths, Pettigrew. Breathe. In and out. In and out. That’s right, like normal. You are adorable. You’re funny and cute and adorable. Annalee, the perfect swan of Gryffindor, has declared you funny and cute and adorable. You. Got. This. You got this. YOU’VE GOT THIS. Bloody hell. She’s staring at me. What do I do? What do I do? WHAT WOULD SIRIUS DO?

“Adorable enough to dance with?” he said in as suave a tone as his shaking voice would allow.

Annalee smiled, glanced over her shoulder and saw James wasn’t coming back yet, and said, “Sure. Why not.”




James had been crossing the Great Hall to the front entrance just as Lily slammed through the door coming in from her talk with Severus Snape - and she’d pushed the door open so fast that she’d nearly struck James in the face with it. He’d only just managed to jump back before the wood smashed him, stumbling into a funny plant with weird little turnip-shaped fruit hanging from it’s branches. He caught himself only just in time, sending a load of the turnip things to the ground, where they rolled about and he nearly tripped on them.

He looked up to see Lily running for the stairs, Severus Snape right behind. “Lily, wait. Please,” he was begging.

“Sev, no,” Lily said, “Don’t follow me, alright? I’m allowed to leave if I want to.”

James reached for his wand in his robes.

“But I need you.” Snape grabbed her wrist, stopping her and she struggled.

“And I need to go.” Her voice was firm, a hard line.

James was trying to get to the stairs, intent on hexing Severus Snape, but he tripped over one of the turnip looking things and had to regain his balance, and by the time he had, Severus had already released Lily’s wrist and her footsteps were echoing away up the stairs to the second floor corridor.

There was a soft thump as Severus Snape’s knees hit the stairs, and as James rounded the corner of them, he saw that Snape had curled down upon himself so that his face touched the carpet on the stair… and he was crying… so hard that his shoulders shook. For the slightest moment, James actually felt sort of sorry for Snape. He knew what it was like now - to love Lily and have her mean it when she said something nasty in reply. He lowered his wand, and was just about to do the unspeakable - he was going to walk up and check to see that Snape was okay - when he tripped one more time on the turnip-shaped things on the floor and in catching his balance he exclaimed, “Whoaaa -WHOA!” and grabbed onto the bannister of the grand staircase and Snape turned around, drawing his wand because in the flapping of his arms to get his balance, James had ended up holding his an awkward angle, sort of aiming in the general direction of Snape.

So there they stood - one four steps up, the other at the base, leaning against the stair - their wands aimed at one another, both wide-eyed, both hurt by the same girl.

“Diffindo!” Snape shouted, aiming at Potter’s dress robes.

“Glisseo!” said James as the spell Snape had shot struck his shoulder and the seams of his robes fell apart, baring his left arm, destroying his robes as the stairs flattened and Severus slid down to the floor before James, skidding and hitting the wood door with the velocity of his fall. James turned quickly as Severus scrambled to his feet, his arse smarting from landing so hard on the flattened stairs, which were already turning back to their regular shape.

“Locomotor mortis!” James cried, and Severus’s legs were locked and he tripped over himself.

As he went down, he shouted, “Obscuro!” and James’s vision was gone, a blindfold having shot from Severus’s wand. He reached up to snatch it off his face as Severus waved his wand to end the locomotor mortis and turned again to James speedily, “Tarantallegra!”

James’s legs went wild, dancing beneath him of their own accord. “Stupefy!” he tried, sick of the duel already, but Severus rolled out of the way of the spell, which hit the floor and cracked the stone from the force that James had shot it with.

“Accio glasses,” Snape called and James’s glasses flew from his face and Snape threw them to the floor and stomped on them quite hard.

This complicated things for this made it so that James could see three Snapes and none of them were in any sort of focus and he was still dancing from the waist down.

“Flipendo,” Severus said, and flicked his wand at James, knocking him right over backwards. At least this ended the dancing, but it did wind James as he landed on his back on the cold stone and he dropped his wand as he choked for air for a moment. Then the three blurry Severuses were standing right over him. “Stay away from Lily Evans,” he snarled.

“Make me, you ugly git,” James snapped back, and he got up, shoving Severus with all his might with his palms, making him stagger backwards.

“Pick up your wand, you coward,” Snape sneered.

“I’m not a coward,” James’s jaw set. “You are.” And he bent down, picking up the wand from the floor and raising it.

They both stood there, facing one another.

“Densaugeo!” James started to yell, thinking Severus might like some teeth as equally large as his nose, but he only managed to get out the densau-- part before Severus’s next spell hit him square across the chest.

Severus stared coldly at James, “Sectumsempra!”

James fell backwards, clutching his chest and a great red tear ripped across his shirt, across his body and he gasped, blood coming up out of his mouth as he looked at Snape with an expression of shocked betrayal. He stumbled… and hit the stone.

Snape’s eyes wided. “Shite!” he cried and he ran forward. “Potter!” It was a spell of his own invention. He’d only tested it on pillows and tree trunks. It had only ever worked as a whip might against those objects. He’d never expected it to draw blood quite as it had. He panicked and grabbed at James’s robes, tearing them open to see the damage he’d inflicted was massive. “Oh no. Oh no. No.” He hadn’t meant to kill anybody. He felt his hands getting covered by blood, hot and red, pouring from James’s chest. James’s eyes were fluttering weakly, nearly closed, his mouth open, teeth red form the blood. “No. No.”

“HELP!” Snape bellowed, pressing his hands over the slash across James’s chest. “HELP!!” He didn’t know what else to do. He screamed it as hard as he could. “HELP ME! HELP!! PLEASE SOMEBODY! HELP!!!”

The doors to the Great Hall burst open and Kingsley Shacklebolt came running as James’s eyes shut.