James Tiberius Potter (jamesie) wrote in secundum_rpg, @ 2010-03-22 21:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | march 1978, open |
Who: James and Open
What: The head boy is off on his rounds
When: Monday evening, after dinner
Where: Some dim corridor somewhere in the castle
Rating: TBA
Status: Incomplete
There was definitely a certain prestige in being the head boy. Not that James had ever sought to wear the shiny badge on his lapel. He had never once contemplated such delusions of grandeur - that was more for Remus - the responsible one. For about five minutes after getting the letter advising of his new position, James had whined about the responsibility. How on earth was he expected to maintain his position as one of the school's most accomplished pranksters, when he had sold out to the authority he had chosen to prank?
But he quickly saw the opportunity (or Sirius might have been the one to suggest it to him). Now he could quite easily use his position to hide anything... untoward... that the marauders might wish to engage in. Not that he would abuse his position, of course. Now, he wore the badge with pride as he did his appointed rounds of the castle.
These visitors had been quite the perplexing dilemma for James. Their sudden appearance had destroyed the equilibrium that was his daily life. Not that he'd really spoken to any of them yet, but just knowing they were there was enough to put him off. Of course he knew that he would become famous in the future - wasn't it plainly obvious - he was James Potter! He had sought attention all his life. Feeling stares on the back of his neck from people he didn't know, who knew things about him that he did not - was more off-putting than he was willing to admit.
Something about them - about their appearance... just didn't sit right with James. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but his new found responsibility had made him just a little wary of their presence. What was it that they knew? His curiosity was insatiable (he was a marauder), and there was nothing worse than an unsolved mystery. Part of him just wanted them to go back to wherever they came from, but part of him wanted to know absolutely everything. He did not like secrets. Everyone had them, of course. Perhaps if he got to know the visitors...
Running his hand through his hair, James adjusted his glasses as he shook off his uncharitable thoughts. There was that creeping feeling in the back of his neck - the one he got when he knew someone was around, and possibly up to mischief (that he hadn't instigated) as he turned the corner into a dimly lit corridor. His wand was quickly in his hand as his voice rose in pompous authority. "Who's there? This corridor is out of bounds. Show yourself!" He prayed it wasn't Filch - the last thing he needed was to catch someone out of bounds, only to discover it was the caretaker!