Who: Marissa MacFusty and James Potter
When: June 1978
What: All work and no play make Marissa something something!
Where: Hogwarts, fools

James wasn't twitchy. NO! No, twitchy wasn't strong enough of a word. It was getting to him, school was finally, finally, FINALLY getting to him and he was quite sure, very very sure, so sure that he'd bet his broom and a load of other crap on it, that he'd gone insane. Very, very, very, very insane. So insane that he'd stayed up until about three in the morning trying to figure out what the fuck he did with this quill to make it look like Mrs. Norris' crooked tail because it did and oh God why wasn't he doing anything? All he was doing was sitting there across from Marissa MacFusty and staring at his quill like it held all the secrets to life (like if you---like. Like---oh God he couldn't even think about what one of the secrets could be, how fucking lame---).

"Marissa," James said in a conspiring tone, not looking up from the quill. He sort of wanted to gesture her to look down at it too, but that would mean moving and James wasn't up to moving just yet. Okay, maybe he was, he's a liar now, too. Not only was he insane, but he was a liar, a big fat liar, and God what did he have for lunch today, he was fucking starving. "Marissa."

That was a pretty name. Marissa. Maaaaaaarissssssa. Flows off the tongue. MacFusty didn't, but Marissa did, so it was smart of her parents to even that out. Okay. OKAY, FINE, HE WAS TWITCHY AND READY TO EXPLODE, ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?

"I can't fucking sit here anymore."

Marissa was extremly happy with the fact that someone else was going as batshit insane as she was. She glanced up sharply when he spoke and ceased in the tapping of her foot (some sort of silly little Scottish jig that her grandmother had taught her when she was wee) so that she could reply in return, "Oh, thank Merlin."

She didn't quite bound, but it was a very near thing - she sprung, yes, sprung - to her feet and held up her own quill, very nearly wiping her nose with the ink-covered end in the process, and smirked conspiratorily at James. Without much further ado, she took a firm hold of his arm and began walking with intent toward the outside.

Not that she said another word about it, of course.

A woman after his own heart. James turned to Marissa when they'd finally reached their destination---it seemed that two insane people seemed to think on the same wavelengths and he hadn't protested in the slightest when they'd walked onto the grounds or when he'd pushed a third year out of the way because you just don't get into the way of someone who was insane, let alone two people who were insane and now they were in their proper positions and this was just what he fucking needed because if he didn't do something rash and stupid now, his head was going to pop off.

That would be gross.

But awesome looking at the same time, if you thought about it. James wondered for a moment if his head would just fall off or pop like a balloon, but then his footing slipped slightly from the rather large rock he and Marissa were standing on top of, and he was knocked back to what little sense he had at the moment.

"ONETWOTHREE!"

Truth be told, she hadn't exactly been paying attention to whether she was dragging James along with her or if he was going of his own will. Since she didn't feel resistance on her arm and it wasn't getting overly sore at the moment, she assumed he was pliant enough.

The fact that they got up the rock without either of them falling was something she was rather impressed with, and when she heard James' voice ... well, she complied easily, jumping into the lake with an exaggeratedly loud shriek and no small amount of flailing. Yes, this was just what she needed - to not think about anything important for at least a little while, before she actually had to figure out what she was doing with her life.

Sure he'd been swimming in the lake the other day with Sirius and everyone who'd joined. That had been fun and fine and dandy, but he'd actually been normal then. And had gone back to the dorms to get his bathing suit. And brought a towel. And wasn't still fully dressed in robes and pants and a shirt and a vest and underwear and whatever the hell else came along with a uniform. So the other day, he'd been all swimming around and moving smoothly. Right now? Not so much. He kind of felt like he was going to sink, with all the extra weight of his clothes and what not.

Or maybe the giant squid would grab his leg because he'd think his robes were some big billowing fish gill. Or...something. James wondered if there was anything besides mermaids at the bottom of the lake, and his cheeks were puffed greatly as he remained under water for a bit longer as his eyes tried to search the murky depths, but his breath was running out and he kicked up to break the surface.

"Fuck, that was needed," he let out, lifting his arms so his cloak floated around his body.

She'd been up to the air as soon as she'd gone down, and she imagined she was not quite as deep as him since she was a little bit lighter. Marissa licked her lips and shook out her head - along with her cloak, her hair was floating out around her. Maybe she'd just cut it all off.

But no, she rather liked it. "Merlin, yes." It didn't even occur to her that she was going to be wet and cold as soon as they got out of the lake.

"What were you doing down there, looking for the squid?"

"Actually, yes. And other creatures living underneath there---" James bobbed under the water as some waves splashed into his face. Okay, he was definitely losing steam here, and tried to push down his floating garments before paddling over to the nearby shore and sand. Sand, there was going to be sand everywhere, nngh. One thing James hated about the lake and the beach was the sand, because no matter how careful he was, he always ended up with a head full of it for the next two weeks, and that shit was annoying.

He flopped down onto his back on the shore, realizing it was fruitless to try and avoid it. James was surprised his glasses had remained on his face, and he didn't twist to look over at Marissa; he just continued to stare up into the sky.

"How the hell did seven years go by?" he said outloud, maybe asking Marissa, maybe just musing.

"Generally speaking, James, there's something that involves the rotation of the planets and the passing of time." She gave him a bit of a cocky smirk and then went about peeling out of a few of her layers before dropping down next to him with her legs stretched out in front of her.

She glanced up at the sky herself and sighed faintly. "At least you know what you're doing, mate. I dinnae have any idea about it." Or rather, she knew what was expected to her ... she just wasn't sure it was what she wanted to do. She sighed, flicking her gaze to her robes and then muttering a charm of her own devising. It had taken her ages to get it working right, but she was a fellow hater-of-sand.

James let out a pfffffft sound, smacking some hair out of his face and knowing it was sticking up at all ends (like...it didn't usually?). What did he care? He was engaged and didn't have anyone to impress anymore, whatever. Yeah, sure, okay. Ugh, it wasn't like James to feel self-concious, but while he'd been the reigning...cool guy at Hogwarts, or something like that (Sirius would have some choice words about that), he was going to be the lowest of the low at St. Mungo's, and that bloody terrified him.

"Right, sure---I'm crazy about being a healer, but then I get a letter from the Catapults sending me an invite for trials, so I start freaking out again." James shook his head though, putting his hands on the back of his head. "Not that I'm going to do it, I want to be a healer more than anything, but--what ifs. Those suck."

"Mmm," she agreed, shaking her head out and then starting to patiently plait her hair. If she didn't, it would literally be everywhere in a few hours and she didn't want to have to deal with that before going to sleep.

"Not that I don't love Quidditch, but ... well, I mean. Healer is a bit of a surer thing, you know. Helping people and all that sort of thing. I can't imagine me working with the dragons is going to help anyone but my family, but I can't just shrug off duty without some serious thought on it." Funny how Otto didn't seem to figure into anything, but that was just the way they were - flexible, she thought. She didn't think he'd have any problems with things either way, barring her deciding to be on an opposite Quidditch team like the Harpies or something like that, but she hadn't gotten any offers, so that wasn't even an issue.

James scrunched his nose a bit. Healer was a surer thing. If you could handle it, he supposed. What if he couldn't take the grueling shifts, what if the deaths and the grim reality that he couldn't save everyone became too much? He wanted to be strong enough to deal with it, but already---already he was haunted with the idea of not being able to save someone he cared about, or just some random bloke off the street---images of the man he couldn't help at the peace rally (peace, ha--) out of his dreams and just bleck.

"I don't think you need to figure it out right now, gotta figure out something you could see yourself doing for the rest of your life, and, and sometimes not even," James mused, squirming slightly, because now his clothes were just sticky and heavy. "Not like you're getting kicked out into the street---right?"

"Well, I don't do much that's useful aside from quidditch." And figuring out that damn sand-removing charm, but that was really quite secondary to quidditch.

"And herbology. What sort of a weird mix is that?" She noticed him squirming, however, and clicked her tongue against her teeth. "You are such a man, James. Honestly, didn't your mother teach you any useful charms?" She muttered her sand-removal charm with just a hint of smugness and then shook her head.

"Not getting kicked out onto the street, no. I don't think my family would do that to me, barring me marrying an ox or something of the sort." She just prayed he wouldn't make any jokes about Otto being an ox.

Then she'd have to hit him. And she'd already hit his best friend, right? So she probably shouldn't hit him, too.

"Hey, that was pretty nifty," James said with a light laugh, sitting up, even though he was still soaking wet. He groaned slightly and peeled (ew...peeled....) his robes off, wondering why he hadn't worn the shorter sleeves today and---ooh, at least his badge hadn't fallen off. Damn, that was one thing he was going to miss, being Head Boy. Who knew, huh? Really had its benefits, it did, but it had helped him (forced him) to grow up a helluvalot this past year, so. He was thankful for whatever moron decided he should be Head Boy.

Not that he'd been a bad one, necessarily, but.

"Where'd you find that one? Sand is one of the many banes of my existence."

"Not found so much as 'shoved together from bits and pieces of other spells', I would say. You don't know how long it took me to get it so that it didn't light my clothes on fire."

Yes, she'd lost more than a few pairs of socks testing that charm on herself. And her siblings. Marissa finished up with her hair and turned fully to him, rolling her shoulders. "Sand's worse at home even when it's dry, since it blows 'round from the beaches and up with the dragons. I think sand is the bane of most people's existences."

James' eyebrows shot up and he sent Marissa an impressive nod of the head. Sure, he and the boys had come up with some of their own spells and charms (fuck, they were Animagi for Pete's sake---ha...Pete...Peter...get it?), but it was still interesting to see other people do it. That they had the time and patience to do it, really--

"That's real nifty, Marissa, I'd never have thought about something like that," Meh, that was a lie, but it was a nifty spell and she should be proud of it for coming up with it herself. "They pay people good money to come up with stuff like that, Lil's got an internship to the Experimental Charms committee, she'd be all interested in this, I bet."

She shot him a skeptical look in return. "I highly doubt that you didn't think about it if you share the same hate of sand as I do, James. But ... well, I guess they do pay good money for things like that, but I'm betting there's already some sort of spell for it that nobody uses because we are the only two people who hate sand enough to consider using it."

Marissa paused. "Now, if I could say ... figure out a way to perma-tune racing brooms, then they'd want to pay for it. Or create cleverly disguised fireworks."

"Yeah, but the fact of the matter is that you were able to put something like this together." He ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to flatten it, but after almost eighteen years of dealing with it, the attempt was short-lived as it was well known to be futile. "And another fact of the matter is that you've got the ideas and the talent to create more useful spells."

James tugged off his shoes and slapped his soaking socks to the sand after he pulled them off. Rolling up the bottom of his pants, James knew they were going to be quite the sight when going back into the castle.

"Maybe you could write a book of your own personal nifty spells. MacFusty Marvelous Magical...M-word. Or something."

"Please, then I'd have to compete with the likes of Lockhart, and you just can't do that." She couldn't help it, he was just so bloody attractive...

"And you might want to try a smoothing potion on your hair, James. But that would be a little strange, and I'm sure Lily would have choice words about you using female wizarding potions..." Marissa shrugged and shook her head. "I've a few other ones too, but they're not nearly as useful or perfected. One of them still burns my marshmallows four out of five times."