Chapter Text
It was the ninth of February, and Valentine's day was just around the proverbial corner. Secret admirers were leaving notes around the halls, the Gryffindor common room was sporting even more red than usual, the Fat Lady had allegedly stolen flowers from a portrait in the Hufflepuff common room, and the Ravenclaws were hanging up bad pick-up lines all around the castle.
T'was the season, and the amount of pheromones in the common room that evening was almost as noticeable as the suspiciously (and most likely Amortenta-derived) marvelous scent drifting from the Potions classroom.
The Gryffindors were certainly in the spirit. Everyone had their own special way of preparing for the most romantic holiday.
Remus was busy scribbling down sappy poems and love letters that nearly two dozen different students had paid him to make for them to give to their dates. He claimed that he was charging five galleons each, and was making quite a profit.
Peter, on the other hand, was practicing his origami skills by folding various designs of swans and hearts. He was selling them for nine sickles a piece, but no one seemed to be buying them. Poems were all the rage that year, apparently, and there was no room for silly folded things.
Sirius was busy suggesting amorous adjectives for Remus to include in the poems. He was claiming a comission of nine sickles per poem that Remus sold (which was more than what poor Peter was making).
James, on the other hand, had no monetary aspirations for the Valentine season. The only thing he wanted to cash in on was a certain red-haired flower.
("Cashing in" was one of the pick-up lines the Ravenclaws had posted. Remus had avised he not use that one.)
He was staring longingly across the common room at the future love of his life, Lily Evans, who was chatting away with some of her friends.
"I'm going to do it," whispered James. "I'm going to ask her. Tonight is the night she'll say yes."
Sirius rolled his eyes and flicked him in the shoulder. "You've been saying that for the past three years, mate. I don't believe you anymore."
"Yeah," Peter added, looking up from his fortieth pink swan. "You're starting to sound like the boy who cried wolf..."
"What's that?" asked Sirius. "You're not making sense again, Wormtail."
Remus sighed and set down his quill. "You don't understand, wee feathered duckling," he cooed mockingly. "It's a reference to a muggle fairy tale."
James cleared his throat. "Gentlemen. Attention on me and my situation again. Please."
"Yes, darling master," Sirius laughed, pausing to look at Remus' pile of letters. "Have we used that one yet? 'Darling master?' I think that's a good one."
"I don't think so...."
"I like it," Peter piped up. "Better than 'feathered duckling.'"
"Guys!" James whined. "I'm going to go over there right now and ask her. Right now. Do you even care?"
"Nope," answered Remus, signing off the next letter with a flourish.
"Knock yourself out," Sirius deadpanned.
"Good luck!" Peter chirped.
"Thanks, Pete," James sighed. "Sometimes I feel like you're the only one who truly appreciates me."
Then, he stood up, straightened his bright gold and blood orange jumper, tried to fix his hair, and took a deep breath. He began to walk over to Evans, and ignored his friends' ongoing bickering.
"Way to go, Pete! Knocked me down a notch on the best friend scale!"
"It's not my fault, Pads!"
James blocked it all out. There was nothing but him, his charm, the common room sofa, and the glorious being that was Lily Evans.
There she was, sitting there, laughing as she warmed her feet in front of the fire. As pretty as a picture.
James cleared his throat. "Hullo, Evans," he said casually, walking over to the fire place. He tried to lean against the wall there, ignoring the searing heat of the fire as he half-winced and half-smiled at her.
"Evening, Potter," she replied, looking away from her friends. "Is there something you want? Perhaps help on the transfiguration essay?"
James felt his cheeks go hot, and he ran a hand through his hair nervously. This was it.
"That would be brilliant, actually," he laughed, though homework was the last thing on his mind. "But I wanted to ask you something else."
"Oh?" Evans inquired. "Spit it out, then."
"Well," James laughed, and his mind unhelpfully conjured a thousand Ravenclaw poster pick-up lines. "Merlin... Are you using the Confundus charm, or are you just naturally this mind blowing?"
Evans blinked her pretty green eyes at him. "What?"
He laughed awkwardly again. "Never mind," he said, putting that behind him. "Listen, there's that Valentine's Day dance coming up. I thought we should go together."
He felt the tension in his shoulders release as he said it. That was much easier than he expected.
But Evans' reaction was not quite so relieving. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, and then sighed.
"I should have seen this coming," she groaned. "Potter, it's not happening. And, really... Valentine's Day? Terrible, honestly."
James crossed his arms defensively. "What's wrong with Valentine's Day?" he demanded.
Beside Evans, Marlene McKinnon rolled her eyes as if he were an idiot overlooking the most obvious thing in the world.
"Valentine's Day is nothing more than a charade," Evans explained, sounding more than a little patronizing. "It's a holiday made up so we spend lots of money and feel guilty about being alone."
James frowned. "So, then don't be alone. Come to the dance with me."
McKinnon rolled her eyes again. "You don't get it, Potter," she retorted. "Lily says no. She's not going to conform to societal norms and go on a date with you."
Evans shrugged. "Sorry, Potter. Valentine's Day is just a big hype."
James, while rather confused, had not yet given up hope.
"Then will you go out with me for not Valentine's Day?" he inquired.
"No," she replied flatly, and turned back to chatting with Marlene.
"Told you she'd say no," Sirius taunted. They were back in their dorm room, getting ready for bed.
"You did not," James growled, throwing his pillow at Sirius' head.
"Kinda did," Peter pointed out innocently. "Though that might have been last week."
Sirius laughed and threw the pillow back at James, but he simply caught it with his honed Quidditch reflexes.
"Point is," Remus cut in, before anyone could add something more, "you were doomed from the start, Prongs. She's not going out with you."
James groaned and clutched the pillow to his chest, allowing himself to collapse onto his four-poster bed.
"What am I doing wrong, then? And what makes you all think you know her so well?"
"I don't," Peter replied through a yawn. "But she doesn't like you. Anyone can see that."
"No way!" James cried, still star-fished out on his mattress. "She's just playing hard to get."
"Trust me," Remus said. "She's not playing hard to get."
"Or she's crazy dedicated," Sirius added.
James was quiet for a moment, contemplating his options. He certainly wanted to win Evans over, but obviously his straight-forward tactics were not working.
Perhaps he should try playing hard to get?
His head filled with thoughts of Evans, he began to slip off into sleep. He hardly registered the ongoing sound of Remus' quill, or Peter's yawned good night.
There was nothing but James, his charm, and his plans to win over Lily Evans.
"Sickle for your thoughts," said Sirius, snapping James out of his deep state of meditation.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed, sitting up straight as the last bits of his plan began to tie together.
"Shhh!" the librarian hissed, shooting him an evil eye as she looked up from her cataloguing.
"I've got it," James repeated, whispering now.
"Oh, brilliant!" Peter replied. "Because I've been stuck on it for the past fifteen minutes."
"What the hell are you talking about, Pete?" James asked, staring at his blond friend in confusion.
"Question twelve on the potions homework. I asked you for help. Remember?" Peter inquired, frowning.
"Was a bit zoned out," James admitted, feeling a little bad. "I was thinking about Evans."
"Oh, what an earth-shattering surprise," Remus mumbled. He didn't look up from his work, not even as he gracefully dipped his quill in the ink pot.
"Shut it," James snapped. "Do you want to hear it or no?"
"What?" Sirius questioned. "You're going to share your erotic Evans fantasy with us? No thanks." He grimaced and shook his head, turning back to his book.
"I wasn't--"
Sirius interrupted James by immediately setting down the book. "Actually, prongs, scratch that. Even your disturbing fantasies would be more interesting than astronomy right now."
"I wasn't having an erotic fantasy just then," James snapped defensively.
"But another time? Sure," Remus added with a smirk.
"Come on," Peter interjected. "I want to hear what he has to say!"
"Thanks, Pete," James sighed, rubbing his temples in exasperation. "I've conjured a brilliant plot for wooing Evans. But I'll need your help."
"Do tell," Remus hummed, setting down his quill. "I can put off Frank Longbottom's love letter request for a few minutes."
"Brilliant," James returned with a scowl. "Glad to be worthy of your attention for once, Moony. Because I'll be needing your help specifically."
"What about me?" Sirius pouted. "I feel like I've been ignored lately."
"Share the spotlight, you needy dog," Remus grumbled, waving away Sirius with a hand. He turned back to James, smilinh warmly. "Now, Prongs. Let's talk business."
"Okay," said James, grateful to be taken seriously. "First, has anyone asked you to write something to Lily for them?"
"That's confidential. Between me and my clients."
Sirius reached across the table and grabbed at James' hands, smirking devilishly. "I, on the other hand, have no contractual obligations to his clients. So, for your information, eighty percent of those love letters are for Evans, and fifty percent of the sonnets are for her as well."
"What?" James shrieked, earning another death glare from the librarian.
"Settle your wand," Remus grumbled, shaking his head. "Pads is a lying prick. None of them are for Evans."
Sirius gave Remus a betrayed look, but James let out a sigh of relief.
"Okay, brilliant." He sighed again, laughing at himself. "So, can you write her one?"
The jaws of his three friends all seemed to drop at once.
"What?" Peter gasped.
"That was your plan?" Sirius demanded, looking disgusted.
Remus shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose and blinked in horror. "Prongs. I thought you were more noble than this. To see you stoop so low...."
"You're the one bloody writing the damned things!" James protested, a little louder than he should have.
"Language, Mr. Potter!" exclaimed the librarian. "Once more and I'm afraid I will have to ask you to leave!"
James ducked his head in shame as his friends began to snicker at him.
"Hear me out," he pleaded, lowering his chin to rest on his hands. "Moons, I need you to write Evans love letters. But not as me. From you."
"Mate, that's not helping your case," Sirius said, a concerned look on his face. "Remus could win over any girl with his prose, and don't get me started on his poetry!"
Remus actually blushed. "Don't flatter me, my adjective generator," he mumbled. "But honestly, James. I'm not complaining, even if you are crazy. You'll just have to pay double."
"Ten galleons per letter?" Peter gasped. "But friends go free, right?"
Sirius scoffed. "What kind of a business model is that, Pete?"
"Yeah, Wormtail," Remus added, raising an eyebrow. "You thought I would write you that poem for McKinnon for free? Come on."
"I gave you both free swans!" Peter exclaimed. "You're not being fair!"
"Your loss," Sirius snickered.
"Again, we need to turn the focus back to me," James insisted, snapping his fingers in front of their faces. "My brilliant plan, remember?"
Remus nodded solemnly. "Yeah. So, you'll pay me ten galleons a piece to write love letters to Evans? As myself? Why?"
"Well, you're obviously a reputed romantic," James replied. "If you can't win her over, no one can."
"So you're going to use our sweet Moony as a test subject?" Sirius gasped. "How unjust!"
"Not a test subject," James clarified. "He just needs to keep her attention for a while so no one else more threatening steals her before I win her over."
"More threatening?" Sirius repeated, looking aghast. "You insult Moony as you ask him to let his heartstrings be pulled at? You want him to fall in love with Evans just so you can steal her away?"
"Ahem," Remus coughed. "Moony can speak for himself. And while I am rather offended, I'll take the job. For a doubled price. Double the orginal double."
James shrugged. He could deal with that. He just wouldn't buy him a birthday present.
"You guys are crazy," Peter grumbled.
James ignored him. "Fine. Just keep Evans occupied for a week or so while I work on winning her over."
"A few weeks?" Peter repeated, grinning genuinely. "Generous, James. You must be sure your plan will work. That's great!"
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, much more hesitantly. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What's this brilliant plan of yours, anyway?"
"That, my good man," said James, "is where you come in. I need you to date me."
"What?" Sirius laughed, looking rather shocked.
"I need you to be my boyfriend," James repeated, more assertively.
Their table fell quiet, and the other three exchanged nervous glances. James swallowed in anticipation, wondering what he had said wrong.
"Well?"
Remus laughed nervously.
Peter averted his eyes.
Sirius cleared his throat.
"While I'm flattered you've finally revealed your true feelings for me, Jamie," he said hesitantly, "I'm just not so sure how well it will go over."
"Why not?" James demanded.
"James," Remus said slowly. "It's not a good idea to openly act queer, yeah? You don't want to get hurt. Especially if it's not real."
Sirius cracked a half-smile. "Yeah, mate. I'm keen on dating guys, for sure, but not many other people are. I wouldn't want to out myself over nothing."
James was at a point where he couldn't quite comprehend what his friends were implying. It hadn't seemed like such a big deal when he had planned it out in his head. His parents had plenty of friends that were "queer," after all.
"It'll be harmless," he assured them. "We're the Marauders, remember? No one'll mess with us. And we'll all call it off as a prank if things go badly."
Sirius bit his lip anxiously. "What makes you think this will help, anyway?"
"Well, I have to go to the dance with someone," James scoffed. "And you were the obvious answer! Besides, I heard Lily talking about same-sex rights the other day or something. I bet you she'll love this."
Remus buried his face in his hands. "Just fork over the galleons, James."
"You got it."
"I guess I'm in," Sirius grumbled. "But don't go breaking my heart, Potter."
"I wouldn't dream of it!"
"What about me?" Peter asked.
All three of them turned to look at Peter at once.
"You just sit there and look pretty, Pete," James instructed.
Peter pursed his lips.
"Fine, I guess. But don't blame me when everything goes wrong."
James ignored that statement. He was certain his plan would go over brilliantly. Peter's uncertainty was just a testament to his future success.
No, he thought. Nothing would go wrong at all.
It would be perfect.