You are viewing a story from harrypotterfanfiction.com


LOVE & BROOMSTICKS by StepUpx_Gryffindor

Format: Novel
Chapters: 35
Word Count: 216,870
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Humor, Romance, Young Adult
Characters: Lupin, Sirius, F. Longbottom, Lily, James, Pettigrew, OC
Pairings: James/Lily, Sirius/OC, Other Pairing

First Published: 07/23/2006
Last Chapter: 03/09/2015
Last Updated: 03/09/2015

Summary:



You know what I hate? Having James Potter as your playmate as a child, & then having him turn into an egotistical pig as soon as we both set foot in Hogwarts. All the jokes, teasing, cat-calling... I can't stand it! I can't stand him. James Potter may have that devlishly handsome grin going for him, but I'm not falling for it! I've survived him for 5 years & I'm sure I can make it through my Sixth Year without him... I think?


Chapter 11: Detention With Unidentified Crawling Objects






Professor Franklin split us in half. Jessica, Peter, and Sirius are going to go polish the trophies and James, Remus, and I are going to clean the floor of the Great Hall. She just handed us buckets of water and we’re making our way down to the Great Hall right now. Kill me.


How creepy was that little unnecessary gesture that James had pulled before we entered her office? That ponce. I literally had a shiver going down my spine. That little whisper just made my head inflate like helium. It’s intimidating, is it not?


Everything I’ve done with these boys has distanced me from Jessica, no matter what; or for the time being, just separates her and me for a short time. Why can’t Jess and I just be alone during detention to go do other girlie things? Like, I don’t know, clean the girls’ bathrooms on the third floor, or refill the tampon machines. I mean really. Separate the sexes once and a while. It’s discriminatory against us women to not have our social female bonding time during detention!


Jessica’s face when she left to clean the trophies was priceless. She looked like an anime character ready to explode. Sirius almost took off running. Jessica’s gotten over the whole detention thing now that she’s here. It’s not like she can do anything about it. But she’s going to want to break Sirius Black’s legs for the next couple of days until the steam in her head disappears. It was hard parting with her, mainly just because she was stuck with Sirius and Peter. I felt sorry for her. But since I have the team of idiots on my side I have nothing to pity her about. She should be sorry for me in any case.


Remus and James carry the buckets of water while I carry the washcloths, the mops, and the sponges. There’s complete silence. I don’t know what to do about this. James is so nonchalantly cool about everything. It’s not like I’m obsessed with him (I AM NOT!), but why isn’t he thinking about any of this? He’s become so laid back in the past few days, and it’s been driving me crazy. Woah, maybe this is the game James was referring too!?



[QUE MUSIC NOW – “ALL YOU WANTED” BY MICHELLE BRANCH]


Am I analyzing this too much? Is it just me? I can’t get my mind around it. You have to understand that nothing like this has ever happened in the many years that I’ve known him, including our Hogwarts years. He’s so… UGH! First he doesn’t say anything, and then he has the frickin’ nerve to tell me that some game has started. I was not notified of any damn game! I’m starting to think he has a multiple personality disorder. I open the door to the Great Hall and let the boys go in first. James smirks at me as I hold the door for them.


“Woah,” Remus says, as he walks through.


“I’ve never seen it so… bare,” pipes up James.


I glance around and notice that the Hall is completely empty. No tables, no benches. Just grease stains and weird looking food on the floor. Grease stains and weird looking food on the floor that WE have to clean up. I’ve never noticed what slobs Hogwarts students are. This is gonna be gross. Remus and James set down the water buckets.


Remus bends down and puts his face close to a weird moving object on the ground. “What is it?” he questions. From the looks of it, it’s some sort of small concoction making its way east of the staff table. It’s greasy and gross. “I think it’s someone’s spinach,” he concludes. I shudder and set down the cleaning supplies next to my feet. James contorts his face in disgust at Remus and comes over to get a sponge, and doesn’t even look at me. I stare at him the entire way up and back. My mouth drops. He didn’t even glance at me! His head wasn’t even twisted towards me. WTF.


Am I that revolting?


Fine! I’ll just glare at him then, and take my anger out on the back of his head with my fingers and pretend to flick him. Over and over.


“Um. What are you doing?” Remus asks me quizzically.


I snap out of my flicking trance. Craptastic.


“Nothing. Here’s a mop.” I hand him a Martha Stewart looking utensil.


There’s silence for what seems like forever as we scrub and clean different sections of the floor. I glance at James every once and a while and there’s nothing but a smirk on his face every time.


“So,” Remus starts. “Someone’s a slow worker.”


I look up and he’s almost half way across the Great Hall and his voice echoes.


“How did you get so far?!” I’m still in the bloody corner. Why did I give him the only mop? Stupid white mop.


He smirks and doesn’t answer my question. I pout. As usual.


“So how was Potions?” James asks out of the blue, keeping his head down and scrubbing. I’m startled that he’s speaking to me.


“Why do you want to know?” I say, with a little too much edge.


“Padfoot elaborated on the subject of someone flipping him off and hitting him on the head.”


I throw my sponge down. Oh, no he didn’t. “I didn’t flip ANYONE off, first off. I do take responsibility for hitting him, because he deserved it. But you can thank your rounds partner for the sticking up of a certain middle finger… Repeatedly.”


I huff. Woah, I’m huffing?

Calm down.


He chuckles. “Alright, alright. No need to get moody.” He still hasn’t looked up at me.


Silence.


“WHAT!?” I bellow, out of the blue.


O.M.G.

What have I done?


James is shaken and falls back on the ground. For the first time this detention, he’s looking straight at me. Remus looks up and is about to use his mop as a weapon of self defense. I completely just yelled at James for no reason! Except, maybe I just bluntly screamed for the sake of my rambling? My goodness. Get a hold of yourself! Stupid man inside my head! He’s such a freak. My brain just couldn’t take the frustration over James and the paranoia and the annoying part of it all, so it just burst.


James obviously thinks that I was responding to him, though it doesn’t make sense. But that explains why he’s looking at me all freaked out. So is Remus as he sets the mop down slowly.


Paranoia gets the better side of Lily Evans.

I can make assumptions like that because I’ve witnessed it.

Hell, two fourths of the marauders have witnessed it.


My face is pure white, not even red.


“What- THE FUCK- was that, Evans?” James asks, a little teeny tiny bit terrified.


“You!” I blurt without reason/with reason.


My eyelids open a little bit more at this realization. Shit. Now I’m in for it.


“How am I the reason why you just screamed a four letter word oh-so forcefully?!”


“You’re pissing me off! And I’m asking you ‘what’ it is that is bothering you.” It makes sense kind of? Right?


“Why do you think I’m bothered?!”


“Because you’re pissing me off!”


“…Because you think I’m bothered, I’m pissing you off?”


“No. You’re bothered and it’s making me pissed off!”


We’re yelling and Remus is whipping his head between James and me, looking back and forth frantically.


“I’m not bothered!”


"Then why are you pissing me off!?"
 

James makes a face that questions my sanity.


“Do you understand what you’re saying, Evans?”


“I am fully capable of understanding the words that I use.”


“Then what is your problem!?”


“I have no problem!” I yell at him. HE has the problem, not ME. Dufus.


“Fine!” He slams his sponge down.


“Fine!” I reply, picking up my bucket. “What are you doing?” I ask. James gets up and makes his way over to the pile of cleaning supplies near me.


“I’m changing my sponge, because mine is HEADSTRONG AND ANNOYING.”


As if it’s my fault.


“What are you doing?” he asks me in a whiny voice.


“I’m going to go change my bucket water, because it’s PISSING ME OFF.”


“Yeah? Well, my old sponge is LOUD AND DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. And with a new sponge, it won’t yell at me and blame me for things that don’t make sense to the human mind!” He picks up a weird looking sponge. “A-HA! THE SPONGE!”


“Good!”


“Great!”


“Wonderful!”


“SPECTACULAR!”


And with that, he kneels down again and starts scrubbing. I turn around and stomp towards the girls’ bathroom with my bucket. Stupid butt wipe. I don’t need this psychotic-ness. I have enough of it already.


 

[QUE MUSIC NOW – “DAMN YOU LOOK GOOD, AND I’M DRUNK (SCANDALOUS)” BY COBRA STARSHIP]


 

I walk out of the Great Hall and turn right. I peek through the windows. It’s gotten significantly darker since I last checked. I’m impatiently holding the bucket with both my hands, having arms like string beans, and wishing that I could gain some muscle. When you hold a bucket of water for a minute or two while walking down a long hallway, you tend to feel the burn. I make a left and see the trophy case, and its occupants.


“You can polish my trophy any time, Finelly.”


“Oh, no. Padfoot. Not again,” Peter mumbles, hanging his head.


“Sirius, I’m this close- THIS CLOSE- to shoving my foot up your bazooka!” Jessica replies.


“You know, the thing about life is-” Peter tells them, trying to change the subject.


“-Oh, Finelly, I knew that having detention with you would show your love for me-”


“-You have to take it by the horns-” Peter continues.


“-Never, in a million years, will I EVER want to polish your trophy-!” Jessica yells.


“-And when you take life by the horns-”


“-Or go near your trophy! Hell, I’m pretty sure there is no trophy-!”


“-HEY! I HAVE A TROPHY-!” Sirius bellows protectively.


“-You steer the direction you want to go to in life. Or actually, pummel; not steer, in the direction you want to go through in life, ‘cause I mean, really, it’s a bull we’re talking about, right-?” Peter is now looking a bit confused, and scratches his head.


“-Well, if you say you have a trophy, then I suggest you protect it from me, because you’re gonna lose your ability to have children if you keep up with the sexual metaphors!”


In one fluid motion, Sirius does that weird protective dance that he did when I was in the boys’ dormitory, and he puts his hands over himself. This makes me laugh, which directs their attention to me.


“Wow, guys,” I laugh.


Jessica is seething and turns around. “Lily, please. Take me away from here.”


Sirius throws his hands in the air defensively. “It’s not my fault I can’t think of a non-sexual metaphor!”


Peter is facing the other way, talking to himself, and scratching his head more. Jessica flicks the back of his head.


“Ow! Oh. Hi, Lily.”


“I need a break.” Jess throws down her cloth and puts the trophy back on display.


“Don’t leave me here with him. I’m gonna have to do everything!” Peter whines.


“You’ve been able to deal with him for years, and this is no different!” Jessica snaps at him.


She takes the water bucket from my hands. “Thanks, it was killing me.”


I see her smile. “I thought you would need an extra hand. And I just had to get away from those two.” I hold the bathroom door open for her. She dumps the contents of the bucket down the sink.


“Ew!” I squeak.


“What is that?” She looks at it.


“I don’t know, but it’s floating.” I point to the orange blob until it disappears down the drain.


“So…” Jessica starts to refill the bucket with clean water. I can see that she’s just itching to know what it’s been like in the Great Hall. Jessica’s just too polite sometimes to just come out and say it. Oh, Jessica Marie Finelly. If only you knew.


“He’s being an ass.” I’m gonna go with the straightforward route. I’ve got nothing to hide, anyway.


She laughs. “Tell me something I don’t know.”


“I would, except I’m sure you’ve been noticing how he’s been acting.”


She leaves the bucket in the sink and turns to me, resting one of her hands on the rim of the big bucket.


“You don’t think that maybe he’s doing this on purpose just to see you suffer?”


I ponder for a while. “I don’t really know. I don’t think so. I mean what reason would he have to do that? Just to drive me nuts? I don’t think he would do that.”


“Um, yeah, he would.”


“You’re right. He definitely would,” I conclude. “But I don’t think that’s it. He’s driving me insane.”


“What he’s doing to you has this reaction: you can’t stop thinking about him. And I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” I can tell she’s being honest.


“It’s a bad thing, Jess.”


“I don’t get why you won’t give him a chance, though. Sure, he’s an idiot with idiot friends. He’s smart about random things, and he’s dumb about school things. He knows he’s hot, and he’s a bit cocky. But he has a sense of humor, and he has a kind of good heart.”


“Don’t stress me out, please. I don’t like him like that, for the last time. And besides, I think that ship has sailed a couple days ago. It’s not like I could give him a chance if I wanted to, since he’s been acting like I’m the most revolting thing he’s seen. He’s flat out ignoring me.”


She looks at me, not believing the words that just came out of my mouth.


“What!?” I say defensively. “I’m just saying! I was being realistic.”


“… So you would give him a chance? If he stopped acting like that?”


“Hell to the NO.”


Jessica lifts up my bucket, filled to the top with clean water, and offers to carry it back.


“I wonder how long he’s going to be like this,” I mumble.


“Like what, is the question.”


I nod my head in agreement. “How long is he going to be like ‘what’ exactly.” I use my air quotes. There isn’t even a name for what he’s behaving like!


We hear a grumble come from the drain in the sink and we both peek over the side of it. The tiny orange blob crawls back up the pipe and practically jumps at us.


“AHHHHH!” We scream the entire way down the hallway.


(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)


“About damn time, Evans.”


I glare at James.


“What do you care?”


“I don’t.” Remus and James are practically finished with the Great Hall. And my side is completely clean. My brain can no longer function.


“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. They cleaned it up for me?


“You were taking too long, and I was already done,” James says, wiping his hands on the wash cloth. He walks by me and takes the bucket from my hands.


Guilt washes over me. “That was really, um, fast.” He bends down and cleans up the corner that hasn’t been washed.


Remus just gives me a meaning full look, and nods his head. He walks out the doors of the Great Hall to use the bathroom. “I can do the rest,” I tell James. “No, its fine, I got it,” he replies, like he doesn’t care.


Awe, come on!


*sigh*


James ignores me until detention finishes. And I feel like crap the entire time.


(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)


I’ve contemplated this fiasco in my head all night in bed and I haven’t been able to sleep; it’s around 3 AM. I decide to get out of my dormitory and try to do something productive. But then, I remind myself that I’ve been going through this mental trauma and have been suffering internally for the last couple days that I’m not in any condition to do something smart. Screw productivity. I curl up in my pajamas on the couch in the common room and turn on the television.



[QUE MUSIC NOW – “HALLELUJAH” BY PARAMORE]


 

“I was sleeping you know.”


I fall off the couch and land hard on the floor in fright. “You scared me!” I yell at him.


“Hush. You’re going to wake up everyone in Gryffindor,” Frank says, getting up and ruffling his pillow on the couch. He had been curled up in the fetal position on the other side of the couch, for who knows how long.


I slowly claw my way back up on the couch, completely shaken. “That was quite a traumatizing experience for you, I’m guessing,” Frank chuckles, as he sits back down. My right eye twitches.


“Didn’t mean to petrify you, I just couldn’t sleep. What, with all the talk in the boys’ dormitory about Anthony’s new Quidditch broom and how Susan’s arse has gotten exquisitely bigger since the summer, I couldn’t get a wink of sleep.”


I let my heart rate get back to normal. “No, it’s fine. I was down here for the same reason, actually.”


He raises one eyebrow. “No! I mean, not about… You know. Not about Susan or Anthony; my own reasons. But, hey… Both great people…”


Frank Longbottom is looking at me funny. “It’s okay, Evans. I understood what you meant.”


I pick up the remote and look through the channels. I feel his eyes on me and I glance at him. His eyebrows are furrowed. “I sense frustration coming from you,” he says.


I roll my eyes. “I don’t need your help. I’m fine.”


Two minutes pass. I finally find something worth watching on television at three in the morning.


“Ugh. Garfield?” He leans his head back on the couch and stares at the ceiling.


“Do you have a problem with cats?”


“It’s an idiotic movie, and his voice reminds me of my father. How about a movie with substance, please?”


My eyes narrow just a bit. “There’s nothing else on.”


“Anything but Garfield.”


“It’s an okay movie to watch,” I confirm.


He snorts and lifts his head back up.


“There’s no point to it at all.” But before I can argue he takes the remote from me. He punches the crap out of the buttons until he finds a channel he likes.


“Now this is better.”


I look at him. “Rambo?”


“I’m a fan of Stallone,” he says simply.


I cross my arms. “Well.”


“Come on, movies like Rambo eat movies like Garfield for breakfast.”


I’m too stressed out to argue, so I watch the movie. During a commercial he asks me, “I’ve noticed some hostility from Finelly?”


“Don’t ask me Frank. Even I don’t know why she’s been like that lately.”


“You’re her best friend. You should know.”


I raise my eyebrows. “Not that I need to explain, but there are some things about Jessica that I haven’t figured out yet.” And so we drop the conversation.


But he keeps pestering me.


“How many songs do you have on your Ipod?”


“Why do you want to know?” I ask, a bit annoyed.


He shrugs. “I don’t have an Ipod,” I confess. “I’m saving up for one.”


“How about a cellular device?”


I stare blankly ahead like an idiot. “It’s called a cell phone, and no, I might be getting one for my sixteenth birthday.”


“Damn! You don’t even have a phone? Are you some sort of cave woman?”


I get a little pissed off that he’s comparing me to a very ancient, and very hairy, human being.


“No. I just don’t really get an allowance. And in my house, there are age limits for certain things.”


“That blows,” he concludes. I roll my eyes. “How about you?” I ask.


“What about me?”


“Do you have an Ipod? A phone?”


“Yes and yes.” He smiles back at me.


“Alright. You have a perfect life.” I cross my arms in envy.


“Don’t be immature, Lily Evans.”


“Humph.”


Frank turns to look at me. “And no, my life is far from perfect. Just because I get things for my birthday and save my Christmas money does not mean that I get everything I want. An Ipod and a phone are the least of the necessities one needs in life to live incredulously.”


I stare at him like he’s an alien. “Do you hear yourself?”


“I have two working ears, yes.”


“The way you put things in perspective kind of creeps me out,” I spill.


“No one gets me; it’s fine,” Frank waves off. He yawns and doesn’t cover his mouth.


After a long pause I look over at him again. “Why is your life far from perfect?” I whisper, kind of embarrassed that I’m asking him about his life.


“My dad gets on my case about everything, and he’s pressuring me to be some sort of doctor for the wizard community. My parents are divorced. They have been since I was young- Before I even came to Hogwarts. And it sucks. My family doesn’t understand me at all, and kids here think I’m some psychic guru. Well, not everyone. Just the First Years. Some boy actually asked me to predict his future.”


“Oh.”


They’re just First Years. They don’t even know the ways of Frank yet. But I can see how frustrating it would be for people to think of you as something that you’re not.


I ask him, “What about your mom?”


“What?”


“You said your parents were divorced.”


“No, mothers are off limits,” he tells me.


For some reason, I feel relieved that this topic isn’t up for discussion.


And so we converse. But I only tell him the basics. I watch what I say, in hopes of not letting my personal life spill out. Especially how I’m all loopy from this James Potter fiasco. I tell him about Petunia, and Mrs. Jenkins, and how my dad gets on my case too. I don’t mention my mother. Frank and I talk more and more about how our lives are crap and we talk until the ending credits of Rambo. I salute to him as I walk back up to bed. I slip under my covers as the sun is starting to rise. I try to close my eyes and fall asleep, but I open my eyes in shock and sit up.


Did I just talk about my life outside of Hogwarts to Frank Longbottom at three in the morning?!

The Frank Longbottom that I have barely talked to until this year?

The Frank Longbottom that I found myself intimidated by?

The Frank Longbottom that brings out a certain side of Jessica Finelly that I have never seen before?



Did I really just watch Rambo in the Gryffindor common room?!




Author's Note: Boooo yaa! another chapter. and it's probably not my best, yet again. but hey, there are some thing i just have to write about! and even though you might find some things boring to read, because in my opinion this must have been a boring chapter, but i put some things in perspective because they are IMPORTANT and they're key elements for the story to make sense. so bear with me please :]

the next picture is Amos Diggory!

I wish he wasn't so hot xD
Since you can't see his body, picture him a bit more buff, if you will.

http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com