snake's lair {[Sev/Open]}

[prongs]

James hunched over the long wooden table as he finely chopped some mandrake root. Normally it wasn’t the Gryffindor’s preference to stay in the dungeons a moment longer than necessary to attend class. But tonight was an exception to the rule. The Marauders were planning something of a special welcome back surprise for their favorite classmates, but Pads had already gotten himself a detention while Pete and Remus were making an effort to keep their yearly renewed vow to avoid trouble. So the task had fallen to James to concoct their special brew, and despite the promise of an entertaining prank to come, it was not exactly a job that he relished.

He had always found Potions itself to be and exceedingly dull subject. Not only did it require an almost obsessive attention to detail, but it allowed for little to no creativity. What was the point in having a class to learn something when all someone had to do was follow the directions to the letter? And then there was the patience factor. Put junk in, wait twenty minutes, put more junk in, let it simmer for an hour and repeat, ad nausium.

Waiting was easily the worst part. Merlin forbid students actually be permitted to do something productive while they sat around counting every tedious second. No. Obviously cauldrons required constant vigilance lest they suddenly stop being.. cauldron-y.

James flung the last of the root into his cauldron with an exaggerated sigh and sprawled back on the tabletop as he waited for their potion to come to a rolling boil for the next 45 minutes. It may not have been his first choice on how to spend a crisp fall evening, but at least with dinner still being served in the Great Hall he wouldn’t have to worry about a horde of Slytherins deciding to confront a ‘trespasser’.

[bach]

Sev was on his way down in the common room. He just wanted to read a little thing before he walked upstairs to have his dinner. He was in a extraordinary good mood this day. A bit tired, though. Yesterday he had spent all evening with Lily Evans in the astronomy room and they had made up and got friends again. He was in a very good mood, until... Wasn't that James in one of the classrooms? Sev smirked and walked silently in the classroom, and noticed him carefully.

Sev smiled at him. "I didn't knew you were this bad in potions, Potter. But then again. Aren't you just good at quidditch?" Severus asked and smiled. Sev was a bit malicious, but why not when he was doing extra potions? Severus sat down a chair and felt for his wand, oh yes it still was there.

[prongs]

James sat up in surprise as an ever-grating voice broke into his lazy contemplation of the banes of Potions. Snivellus. He relaxed purposefully, leaning back on his elbows with an air of casual superiority. Even as the oily haired Slytherin uncharacteristically came further into the classroom and took a seat, James refused yield control of the situation.

"If I'm good at quidditch and nothing else, your magical skills must be atrocious..." he replied off-handedly, as though the idea had never before struck him. "..Not that I don't appreciate the complement. Its nice to know even you can't help but recognize my quidditch ability."

The Gryffindor smirked slightly as he caught the discreet motion of the other wizard feeling for his wand. That alone was a sign of Snape's unease, despite being the instigator of this semi-civil conversation. James subdued the subconscious habit to reflect the action. After all, he knew his own mahogany wand was, as always, residing along the outer edge of his back pocket.

But he didn't intend to use it unless necessary. Lily had never refrained from telling him just what she thought of his 'unfounded attacks' on her childhood friend, even when Snape had truly started something. Lately, that balance had started tipping towards James' favor. Her old friend had fallen from his pedestal in her eyes and suddenly she had begun listening to James' side of the story before simply denouncing him. And he wasn't about to do something to threaten that change.

[regulus arcturus black]

Regulus shifted his shoulders back slightly. He couldn't quite remember why he'd woken up after Transfiguration in the hospital wing. He'd been told, but he didn't really believe it. Apparently, during the lesson someone had mispronounced the spell, sending something else in his direction. He hadn't been watching, having his back turned, and got a back full of some odd new spell. Now all he knew was that he had a deafening headache, dispite all Madam Pomfrey's aid, and a pair of very stiff shoulders. He almost growled at a second year who passed him on the stairs and dropped her books. He took out his wand and gave it a flick as he walked passed. One of her text books burst into flames. Pyromaniac

He wandered down the corridor, his black hair bedraggled, dark eyes tired. He pulled off the cloak that kept him warm against the autumn chill and stuck his hands into the pocket of his jeans. His robes had a nicely symmetrical burn mark in the middle. Brilliant. He didn't bother to stiffle the yawn, just put one hand in front of his mouth. He wasn't really making decisions at the moment, just letting things happen. He stretched out his shoulders again, letting them groan in protest. At least it was the end of the day. He'd find out who set a spell on him and then they'd find something of their magically dissapeared in a puff of coloured smoke. And they'd be in the hospital wing before long. He only knew it was some Ravenclaw.

At this point, voices caught his attention. He raised a dark eyebrow. He recognised one...and the other. One was more suprising than the other. He stopped and backtracked, pushing open the door to the classroom. He looked inside, ducking his head around the entrance. Hmm, Potty and Sev. Not what you usually saw. Potty on his own for one thing. He gave a quick sweep around the room, to see if Sirius was anywhere nearby. Nope apparently not. Was that a good thing or not? He couldn't decided. Reggie leaned against the door frame, head leaning back, arms folded across his chest. "Don't mind me, I'm just waiting for the insult match to begin." He said innocently.

[prongs]

As per the recipe he had memorized before venturing down to the dungeon classrooms, James lazily stirred the boiling concoction, keeping track of Snivellus with his peripheral vision to appear entirely nonchalant as he did so. It was one thing to not be concerned at sharing an empty dungeon classroom with Snape, but only a complete moron would offer their life-long enemy a free shot. Even James Potter wasn’t that cocky.

Motion of a figure in the doorway drew his attention away from Snape for a moment. His eyes fell upon unkempt black hair, sagging shoulders, and heavy-lidded brown eyes. Regulus. Just in case he wasn’t having enough fun with Snivellus poking his head where it wasn’t wanted, now Siri’s little brother just had to show up. And looking like the deranged example of what happened when pissed off met pure exhaustion. Splendid.

Out of friendship and respect for Padfoot, Regulus had always been considered something of an off-limits target. Sure, self-defense was perfectly permissible, but Sirius was always the one who decided where the line would be drawn when it came to his own brother. And he had a tendency to get rather huffy if even one of his best friends went into the transmutable territory of ‘too far’. Odd that, since Siri himself could hardly behave civilly towards his sibling half the time.

He shrugged unconsciously as Regulus spoke, settling the short debate in his head with the decision that there was no reason he couldn’t play nice with the younger Slytherin. “By all means, have a seat. I should start selling tickets.” He replied with a sarcastically grandiose sweep of his hand.