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ONE SPOOKY NIGHT

act three ━ chapter twenty-eight

. . . . . .

━ JAMES POTTER ━
october 1977

     DIMMED LIGHTS, THUMPING MUSIC, PUMPKINS EVERYWHERE, and a limited supply of alcohol. To everyone's surprise, the Hufflepuff lot knew how to throw a bash.

     Despite the fact that her wig was giving her grief and the room was far too warm for James to be wearing a leather jacket, the two of them looked great. What with how big the Sex Pistols were with teens, they had received many compliments and felt like the king and queen of the seventh years. While Bronwyn didn't much care for this title, James was enamoured by the attention.

     Someone else, however, was less pleased with Sid Vicious and Nancy Spungeon making an appearance at this particular Hogwarts Halloween party.

     Halloween was Sirius Black's favourite time of year. Something about James showing up in a couple's costume with his girlfriend made Halloween no longer worth celebrating in Sirius' eyes. He tried to resist saying anything, he really did, but he and James had always been big fans of the Sex Pistols and the Sid and Nancy costume just felt like a big slap in the face.

     He cornered Bronwyn an hour into the festivities to let her know all of this.

     "Just so you know," he said to her with a sour face, "your costume really offends me."

     "What did Nancy Spungeon ever do to you?" Bronwyn asked with a chuckle. She knew exactly what Sirius was getting at but had been warned by James that Sirius was guarenteed to give her shit for it and she was not about to humour his immaturity.

     Sirius scoffed and it was possibly the most immature thing Bronwyn had ever heard. And she's "dating" James Potter.

     "Nancy Spungeon isn't what is offensive," he corrects her. "It's the fact that you stole my best friend from me."

     "Oh, he belongs to you?" Bronwyn asked, feigning apologetic surprise. "I didn't know, he wasn't wearing a collar."

     Sirius' frown deepened. She didn't know it could even get angrier. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Ward, so I don't appreciate the sarcasm."

     Bronwyn furrowed her brows. "Sirius, I'm quite sure I don't know what you're talking about," she told him, getting closer with hopes to intimidate.

     "James and I were going to do a joint costume," he told her.

     "Oh, were you?" She asked. "He never told me that. This was his idea, you know," she said, gesturing to the costume she was wearing.

     "I don't believe you."

     "Okay, don't," she shrugged. She was so close now she could smell the fire whisky on his breath. "But just know, Sirius, that if you keep this pathetic act up, you won't have a best friend to be robbed of."

     Bronwyn had high hopes of getting drunk and having a good night on Halloween and the longer she spent with Sirius, the less hopeful she was that that was going to happen. So she stalked off, quick to locate Marlene McKinnon, who appeared to be the only one out of that Gryffindor group that had warmed to Bronwyn.

     On the other side of the room, James was reuniting with a Gryffindor girl too.

     James was nervous when Lily approached him at the party. It was probably because he was far too sober but he knew it was because they hadn't properly spoken since he and Bronwyn "got back together". This was all his fault. James had been avoiding her. The complete opposite of the goal that he and Bronwyn were trying to achieve, he was well aware, but there was something so daunting about having his fears confirmed. James thought that if he spoke to Lily and his inevitable on-and-off relationship was brought up, Lily would make it clear that they were never going to happen. And he couldn't face the reality that all of this was for nothing.

     He took a final swig of his drink, hoping the small amount would have him succumb to the effects of alcohol, just as she came into his earshot.

     "Hey," she said, "what are you supposed to be?"

     Somehow, this question was worse than talking about the future of James and Lily's relationship. She didn't know who Sid Vicious was? The man had an iconic look and his band was hardly underground. Here Lily was dressed as a very unoriginal, very boring cat, while he had put thought into his costume and she couldn't even give him the credit he deserved.

     He almost choked on his drink but managed to smile when he turned to face her. "Sid Vicious," he told her. Not a single display of recognition or understanding dawned on Lily's face. "From the Sex Pistols?" She actually grimaced at this. "The band?"

     "Ah, sorry, James," Lily chuckled. "Pop bands aren't really my forte."

     Did she just call the Sex Pistols a pop band? A band that is very famously punk rock?

     It was his turn to grimace but James reckoned he did an okay job at covering it with his cup. His empty cup. He took a sip of nothing. "That's okay."

     As Lily then began to defend her very dull costume, claiming it was "last minute", James spotted Bronwyn across the way. She was laughing and dancing with Andromeda and Regulus. She looked great as Nancy Spungeon. She may have been against the costume in the first place but at least she knew who the Sex Pistols were.

     Lily must have noticed James looking because the next second she was saying, "Can I ask who Bronwyn is meant to be? I love her as a blonde."

     James was surprised by the second half of this question. It suggested there was no bad blood between the two girls, and maybe Lily wasn't after Bronwyn after all. James suspected his answer to this question might remind the ginger girl why she might hold some resentment to the Slytherin.

     "She's Nancy Spungeon," James told her. "Sid Vicious' . . . girlfriend."

     Lily would know that if she knew who Sid Vicious was.

     Her face instantly fell. "Oh," she said. "It's a couple's costume."

     James knew, in that second, from the expression on Lily's face, that the latter was not aware that he and Bronwyn were back together. He had hoped, since gossip spreads so quickly in this school, that someone had informed her so he didn't have to be the one to do it. He now understood that had not happened.

     James gulped. "Yeah, yeah, it is."

     But despite how he sounded, James did not regret the costume choice nor was he ashamed that this was the way that Lily found out that he was back with his "ex".

     "Right," Lily said, a ghost of a smile somewhere close to her face.

     James didn't know what to say after that and when Lily concluded that James wasn't going to ask her about her day or how she found the Potions exam, she too, didn't know what to say.

     Both of them came to the mutual agreement that that was that.

     "Have a good night, Lily," he said. He meant it. Of course, he meant it. In fact, James was indeed smiling and it made her smile too. Lily knew in that moment that the guy who had pined after her for seven years was still inside somewhere. Behind the eyeliner and masses of hair gel.

     Now just wasn't the right time to talk, she supposed. So Lily found Dorcas and James found Bronwyn.

     "Making progress with Evans?" She asked him. She had seen them briefly talking but by how short the conversation was, she thought she ought to check in.

     James tiredly lifted one shoulder. "Some."

     "Some?" Bronwyn repeated incredulously, blowing a tacky platinum blonde strand out of her eyes. "A month ago, you subjected me to every single interaction you had with this girl in great detail and now all you can manage is one word?"

     Was James feeling okay?

     Another half-hearted shrug. "Things change."

     Bronwyn understood that much.

     She offered him a drink (that was 70% vodka, 30% coke) but he politely declined it. James went silent then, watching the mingle of bodies huddle closer together, swaying in time with the music. For once, he wasn't right in the middle of the throng. He wasn't looking for Sirius, or doing shots with Peter. He wasn't completing a boat race with his teammates and he wasn't dancing on a table. He wasn't dancing at all.

     "You know what I've realised tonight?" James said to Bronwyn as he sipped on his cup of water.

     Bronwyn sighed, joining him in people watching. "That if our dads saw us dressed up as punk rock legends, they too would want to hear wedding bells in the next six months?"

     "No, but you make a fair point," James said. "Actually, I was just thinking about how much I've gone off parties."

     Bronwyn almost coughed up her drink. "Oh my God, alert the press."

     "I mean it," he told her.

     "Are you feeling okay? Was your drink spiked?" Bronwyn laid a hand on his shoulder and stared deeply into his hazel eyes. "This isn't very Sid Vicious of you."

     It wasn't but James had been thinking it ever since they stepped into this party. They looked cool, sure, but the thrill he got from the compliments wore off after a time and he just felt very . . . unbothered.

     In fact, all James really wanted was an evening in with Bronwyn. No friends spying on them, no Lily Evans on his case, no terrible music choices. Just peace and quiet. For once in his school career, James Potter was not at all compelled to get plastered.

     "Maybe it's just late," he suggested, brushing it off.

     But Bronwyn was not going to let go of the fact that her party animal boyfriend looked worse for wear and was putting it down to lack of sleep.

     "Never too late to get hammered," she told him with hopes he might warm to the idea of saving the night.

     "I'm not in the mood."

     "But we look so great."

     James cracked a smile. "You do," he said. "Go have your fun." He wasn't about to let his sad mood dampen Bronwyn's night.

     "It's no fun without James Potter."

     James practically barked at this. "You know I heard that, right?" He laughed. "That will be written in every birthday card for the rest of your life."

     "Aw, you're going to get me a birthday card every year for the rest of my life?" Bronwyn asked, already pouring herself another drink from the help yourself table. "You big softy."

     "If I've been stuck with you since birth, I have a feeling I'll be stuck with you until death."

     Bronwyn playfully swatted his arm. "Save the wedding vows till later, darling," she teased.

     "Go get drunk," James comically pushed her into the crowd. "I'll be here," he assured her. Bronwyn tipped her cup in his direction, promising to have a drink in his honour.

     James may have wanted a peaceful evening in with his fake girlfriend, but at least he got the second part.

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     JAMES MEANT IT WHEN HE SAID HE DIDN'T WANT TO DRINK. Bronwyn also meant it when she said she did want to drink.

     Bronwyn wasn't a massive drinker but something about the occasion, the compliments she had received on her costume, and the fact that Evan Rosier was nowhere to be seen meant she felt she could let her guard down. Somewhere between coming to these conclusions, Bronwyn was ten shots deep and did not want to stop.

     One AM had been the peak of the party so come three, it was starting to thin. The music didn't stop, however, and so Bronwyn promised not to stop either.

     James had seen Bronwyn drunk on multiple occasions (how else was she supposed to survive family gatherings?) but something about this time was different. She had exceeded buzzed, she had gone past tipsy; now, she was just drunk. Stumbling, slurring, a very nasty hangover inbound.

     Without hesitation, James took it upon himself to put her to bed. Anymore alcohol and she'd be passing out. He was unsure if they had reached the vomiting stage and he wasn't ready for her to find out without warning.

     So as not to scare her, upon approach, James laid a hand on the small of her back. He knew he had avoided her acting skittish upon his arrival because she beamed back at him, throwing her arms around his neck. At least no one here would doubt they were very much in love. However, James' priority right now was not to assert their fake relationship but instead to get Bronwyn to bed.

     "Bedtime?" He asked her in a slightly babying way.

     She did not clock on to his tone of voice. Bronwyn gulped, sensed the vomit not far off, and nodded shamefully. She was having fun, the party was long from over but she appreciated that a sober James probably had a better grasp of judgement than she did.

     Holding her up by her waist, one of her arms slung over his shoulders, James informed Andromeda that they were calling it a night. James decided not to tell his friends where he was going since they would see him when they returned to their dorm later that night.

     After struggling up the steps towards the main level of the castle and practically carrying her down to the dungeons, James and Bronwyn arrived back at her room. She wasted no time regaining her balance, if not just to scurry to the toilet, where she subsequently emptied her stomach. James didn't wait to follow her to the toilet seat, where he slumped on the floor beside her and gathered her hair in his hands. He made sure none of it was falling in her face until the gagging stopped and she slouched onto the floorboards.

     "Fuck," was all she could manage but it made them both laugh.

     He then let her get changed in the bathroom, knocking before he entered to ensure she was decent. Bronwyn stared at the sink, the world still spinning, as James brushed her hair. He watched them both in the mirror, him towering over her, running the comb through her long locks. He imagined a different reality where they actually were dating and he was looking after his very real drunken girlfriend.

     He supposed he had got his evening in with Bronwyn after all.

     With her final logical brain cells, Bronwyn wondered if James had just done this to remind everyone they were together. If people saw them leaving the party together, their relationship became undeniable. But then she wondered why he had gone the extra mile ─ holding her hair back, making sure she brushed her teeth, cleaning up her bathroom. No one else saw all of this.

     "Thanks for taking care of me, James," Bronwyn whispered. Her voice was weak but not as slurred. Her smile was not drunken or lopsided, but instead conscious and real.

     James smiled back. "That's what boyfriends are for, Bronwyn."

     Once they were done in the bathroom, James tucked Bronwyn into her sheets. He made her drink a full glass of water before refilling it and leaving it by her bedside with two magical painkillers for her to take when she woke up. He swiped her hair from her face as she buried herself deeper under her duvet. She looked peaceful.

     "You're a good guy, James," she then said, her eyes fluttering closed.

     James' lips parted, but Bronwyn was out before he could respond.

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     NOVEMBER FIRST WAS FOR SLEEPING OFF HANGOVERS and eating greasy foods until the partying-type students felt alive again but November second meant a return to normal routines. Both James and Bronwyn were up early this morning and decided to go on a run together. It was a very rogue thing for them to do together but once James suggested, Bronwyn found herself warming up to the idea.

     They started with a light jog out of the castle and towards the fields out the back. They didn't speak much, taking in the fresh air which Bronwyn didn't know how much she needed until she realised how little she had had in the past twenty-four hours.

     Once they escaped the first lot of fields and the castle had shrunk just a little, they got onto the topic of Bronwyn's hangover, and, inevitably, the events of Halloween.

     "I don't think I've ever slept so much," she laughed as they picked up the pace and ran alongside one another, their heels kicking up the gravel as they reached the rockier landscape. "I've also never been more grateful to only have one roommate. I think socialising after that humiliation fest would have been a nightmare."

     James laughed fondly, "Ah, you were a delight."

     Bronwyn stopped running. She didn't know how much talking and exercising she could do, especially since there was more of an incline now and she was pretty sure she hadn't expelled all of the alcohol she had drunk two nights before.

     "Oh, God, that's not good," she doubled over, panting.

     Before them, the mountainous terrain of the Scottish Highlands stretched outwards. It was a grey morning, cloudy, but where the sun was still rising, there were tinges of blue and yellow and the stench of passed rain. The morning birds chirped and wind whipped through trees. Nearby streams trickled and the tall grass rustled. It was colder the further they got from Hogwarts but considering they had just run for forty minutes, their blood was pumping and their bodies were warm.

     "How much do you remember?" James laughed. He revelled in times like this because it was never he who was sober but rather him being the one carried out. The switch-up was nice.

     "Not enough," Bronwyn said. She flopped onto the floor, leaning back on her hands to take in the view. James joined her on the grassy dirt. "The last thing I remember is you watching me empty the contents of my stomach into my toilet."

     James bit down on his lips. "That did indeed happen. And I will never let you live it down."

    Bronwyn's chin fell to her chest in shame. Her hair fell in front of her eyes. "Of course you won't," she said, before then asking, "Did I say anything insane? You can lie, I'd probably believe you."

     James looked back dearly at the happenings of two nights before. Drunk Bronwyn was very nice to him which meant one thing: sober Bronwyn did actually like him.

     "I think the craziest thing you said," James told her, "was you're a good guy, James."

     Bronwyn's hand clapped against her mouth. James even did an impression of her wistful tone and replicating her fluttering lashes and affectionate smile. She knew he was exaggerating but she could also tell he had been dying to tell her this. She made a deal of shivering.

     "God, Halloween really is one spooky night."

     "All hell breaks loose, huh?" James chuckled.

     They descended into comfortable silence. Bronwyn couldn't help but think about their mothers. If they saw them now, exercising together like they hadn't spent their entire childhoods trying to bite each other's heads off, their mums would probably explode. Niamh and Euphemia had spent their entire motherhoods trying to convince their children that they were perfect for each other and while Brownyn didn't think James was perfect for her, she wondered why she didn't believe her mother in the first place. James was more than bearable. Not marriage material, but sweet at least.

     And funny, and thoughtful. More sensitive than she originally thought. And he wasn't half bad to look at─

     Bronwyn was grateful for the gust of wind that swept over the hill just then. It whisked away those thoughts and returned her to the present, where they had a 10K goal to hit and a hot chocolate waiting for them on the other side.

     James, while this was going on, was thinking about whether he truly was a nice guy. He kept replaying how devastated Lily had seemed when he told her he and Bronwyn were back together. Betrayed, almost. She was meant to be all over him, not personally hurt.

     Maybe Bronwyn was wrong and James was not such a good guy.

     "You ready to get going?" Bronwyn asked quietly. He was in deep thought, she could tell. Almost stoic as he stared out at the abyss of grass and rock below them.

     James nodded. He got to his feet first and then offered out his hands for her to take. She smiled appreciatively. Her hands slipped perfectly over his and she hopped to her feet with his assistance.

     Bronwyn got a head start up the hill but James hung back. When she turned to look at him, James was still just as contemplative as before.

     "Bronwyn?" He asked.

     "Hmm?"

     "Do you believe it when they say that drunk words are sober thoughts?"

     He wasn't smirking or smiling. He wanted her honest opinion. And she knew what about. He wanted to know whether she genuinely thought he was a decent guy.

     Bronwyn nodded. "Absolutely."

     He finally smiled. And for just a second, the sun peeked out from behind the clouds and shone down on her face. Bronwyn glowed, the wind scattering her hair around her. She really was beautiful.

     It was like Lily Evans didn't exist at all.

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can i ask how many chapters you guys would ideally like this to be?

follow-up: how would we feel if it's currently planned out to be 50 chapters? :)