Entry tags:
hp ficlet: From the Desk of James F Potter
Title: From the Desk of James F. Potter
Characters: James, Sirius
Rating: PG
Words: ~650
A/N: Completely and utterly the fault of![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
florahart, who who wanted fic of this persuasion.
This story was remixed by![[personal profile]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=88)
lindsey_grrl for ![[personal profile]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif?v=88)
remix_redux 2007.
In lieu of substance, I've included a rather large image. Did I mention it's large? If you have dial-up, be prepared to go make a cup of tea while it loads.
"Well?"
Sirius lifted an eyebrow. The corners of his mouth might've been planning a smirk.
"Honestly, mate?" he asked, pausing just a bit too long. "It's the biggest load of shite I've seen all day."
James snorted. "Haven't looked in the mirror, then?"
"Wanker," said Sirius, cuffing James in the head. "It's rubbish. Look here" -- Sirius pointed at the bottom of the page -- "you're bragging about your History of Magic OWL."
"I'm not bragging!"
"It's on here, innit?" asked Sirius, smiling around a mouthful of curry. "If it's on there, you're bragging."
Bristling, James snatched the parchment back. "I simply listed it for the sake of completion."
"Completion, my arse," said Sirius, pointing at James with his fork. Half-eaten curry dangled over the parchment, and James stared at it in horror. "An OWL in History of Magic is assumed. Everyone gets one."
"Pete didn't."
"He would've, if we'd remembered to wake him up," said Sirius. "There's a rule, like. You get a Satisfactory just for going down to the exam."
"Never mind my bloody OWLs," snapped James. "What about the rest of it?"
"I told you, it's bollocks."
"You know what? You're a fucking knob," said James, snatching the parchment away. "Go home. I'll floo Remus later, and get an opinion from someone with a brain."
"Oh, give it here, you big girl," said Sirius. "Let me see." He lingered over it for a full ten seconds before dissolving into snickers.
"What now?"
"That."
"What?"
"That," said Sirius, stabbing the parchment with his finger. "Inventory specialist."
"What's wrong with that?"
"You've misspelled box boy. That's what's wrong with that."
"Merlin's wrinkly balls, Sirius. Why are you still here?"
"Because you have food," said Sirius. He chewed to make his case, a bit louder than James thought was strictly necessary. "You left out a few things, under awards."
"Oh?" asked James wearily.
"Quite. How about Most Detentions Served in One Term? Or, Most House Points Lost in a Single Afternoon?"
"Right. Because that will get me a job."
"You never know, it just might," said Sirius thoughtfully. "It shows perseverance. Dedication to the task. A complete--"
"--just shut up, yeah?"
Silence. James filled it with more curry, and Sirius rounded it of with a belch.
"Did you ask McKittens if you could use her as a reference?"
"Yes."
Sirius sighed. "It's fine, Prongs."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I really... I just... I want something more. Brooms are brilliant, and that, and I love Quidditch, but Lily just got a promotion at the apothecary, and--"
Sirius laughed and reached for his butterbeer. "She's making more money than you, isn't she?"
"No," said James quickly. Blushing, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "All right, yeah."
"It's fine," said Sirius. "What's a philanthropist, anyway?"
"Oh. It's a... it's a..."
"Go on, then. I'm waiting."
"I don't exactly know what it is, but it bloody well sounds better than 'currently unemployed tosser who spends all day pissing away his inheritance with the help of a stupid bint named Violet', doesn't it?"
"Valerie," said Sirius. "And she's not a bint. She's just..."
"Stupid?"
"Muggle.
James snorted. "Right. Muggle."
"Don't start. You like their electricity well enough!" said Sirius. "Remember that time the four of us took a room at a Muggle place?"
"Which time?" asked James, smiling. "The time you got drunk and jumped off the roof? The time you got drunk and started dancing around in your bathers and a bedsheet? Or the time you got drunk and snogged Moony in the loo after--"
"I," said Sirius slowly, "did not snog Moony."
"Oh no?"
"He'd drank too much, and he wasn't breathing, and--"
"--and I've never seen a rennerverate that required that much tongue."
"I take it back," said Sirius sharply. "It's not fine. It's absolute and utter rot."
Characters: James, Sirius
Rating: PG
Words: ~650
A/N: Completely and utterly the fault of
florahart, who who wanted fic of this persuasion. This story was remixed by
lindsey_grrl for remix_redux 2007.In lieu of substance, I've included a rather large image. Did I mention it's large? If you have dial-up, be prepared to go make a cup of tea while it loads.
"Well?"
Sirius lifted an eyebrow. The corners of his mouth might've been planning a smirk.
"Honestly, mate?" he asked, pausing just a bit too long. "It's the biggest load of shite I've seen all day."
James snorted. "Haven't looked in the mirror, then?"
"Wanker," said Sirius, cuffing James in the head. "It's rubbish. Look here" -- Sirius pointed at the bottom of the page -- "you're bragging about your History of Magic OWL."
"I'm not bragging!"
"It's on here, innit?" asked Sirius, smiling around a mouthful of curry. "If it's on there, you're bragging."
Bristling, James snatched the parchment back. "I simply listed it for the sake of completion."
"Completion, my arse," said Sirius, pointing at James with his fork. Half-eaten curry dangled over the parchment, and James stared at it in horror. "An OWL in History of Magic is assumed. Everyone gets one."
"Pete didn't."
"He would've, if we'd remembered to wake him up," said Sirius. "There's a rule, like. You get a Satisfactory just for going down to the exam."
"Never mind my bloody OWLs," snapped James. "What about the rest of it?"
"I told you, it's bollocks."
"You know what? You're a fucking knob," said James, snatching the parchment away. "Go home. I'll floo Remus later, and get an opinion from someone with a brain."
"Oh, give it here, you big girl," said Sirius. "Let me see." He lingered over it for a full ten seconds before dissolving into snickers.
"What now?"
"That."
"What?"
"That," said Sirius, stabbing the parchment with his finger. "Inventory specialist."
"What's wrong with that?"
"You've misspelled box boy. That's what's wrong with that."
"Merlin's wrinkly balls, Sirius. Why are you still here?"
"Because you have food," said Sirius. He chewed to make his case, a bit louder than James thought was strictly necessary. "You left out a few things, under awards."
"Oh?" asked James wearily.
"Quite. How about Most Detentions Served in One Term? Or, Most House Points Lost in a Single Afternoon?"
"Right. Because that will get me a job."
"You never know, it just might," said Sirius thoughtfully. "It shows perseverance. Dedication to the task. A complete--"
"--just shut up, yeah?"
Silence. James filled it with more curry, and Sirius rounded it of with a belch.
"Did you ask McKittens if you could use her as a reference?"
"Yes."
Sirius sighed. "It's fine, Prongs."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"I really... I just... I want something more. Brooms are brilliant, and that, and I love Quidditch, but Lily just got a promotion at the apothecary, and--"
Sirius laughed and reached for his butterbeer. "She's making more money than you, isn't she?"
"No," said James quickly. Blushing, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "All right, yeah."
"It's fine," said Sirius. "What's a philanthropist, anyway?"
"Oh. It's a... it's a..."
"Go on, then. I'm waiting."
"I don't exactly know what it is, but it bloody well sounds better than 'currently unemployed tosser who spends all day pissing away his inheritance with the help of a stupid bint named Violet', doesn't it?"
"Valerie," said Sirius. "And she's not a bint. She's just..."
"Stupid?"
"Muggle.
James snorted. "Right. Muggle."
"Don't start. You like their electricity well enough!" said Sirius. "Remember that time the four of us took a room at a Muggle place?"
"Which time?" asked James, smiling. "The time you got drunk and jumped off the roof? The time you got drunk and started dancing around in your bathers and a bedsheet? Or the time you got drunk and snogged Moony in the loo after--"
"I," said Sirius slowly, "did not snog Moony."
"Oh no?"
"He'd drank too much, and he wasn't breathing, and--"
"--and I've never seen a rennerverate that required that much tongue."
"I take it back," said Sirius sharply. "It's not fine. It's absolute and utter rot."