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chapter eight; hypnotizing bookworm
Hours later James stumbled into the living room of Potter Manor. He'd left Pads' and Moony's place, instead of crashing on their third bedroom like he usually did and headed home.
The night had been an array of drinks and laughing and throughout he just wanted to get home and see if Amaya was doing alright—he'd summoned Ninny to pass the message along that Amaya could meet them at the flat and Ninny had come back saying, "Miss Maya says no, Master James. Ninny thinks Miss Maya will study again. Master James shall need to carry Miss Maya again, Ninny thinks."
James had thought about Floo'ing home and dragging the witch along, but not thirty seconds after disappearing Ninny came back with a note from Amaya that clearly said: Have fun. Don't you dare try and drag me there. I'm busy.
So, he hadn't, because he wanted the witch to trust him. Lily had given him another one of her mysterious smiles that were more annoying than they were amusing when he'd announced Amaya couldn't be there because she was a bloody stubborn witch.
He was sure the only reason she hadn't come was because she was convinced her life's purpose was her mission and that nothing else mattered—including sleep, meals, and fun. In fact, every time he'd seen her do something besides shut herself off in the library, was when he convinced her to fly with him, or when she went out on her morning runs.
James wanted to try and coax her out, try and bring out the free-spirited version of Amaya he'd seen in the air. But he also didn't want to scare her away, so he respected her note and made an effort to get through her night without Floo'ing home, throw her over his shoulder, and force her to have fun for a while.
Especially when Sirius, a couple of drinks in, started performing his rendition of the muggle song, Killer Queen, and Remus began arguing to anyone who'd listened that he actually hadn't lost against Marlene in chess, and his pawns had rebelled against the monarchy, so really, checking his King was useless because his board was under a Democracy—Marlene had just stared at him blankly before proceeding to massacre his pawns until he waved a white flag (Peter's shirt sleeves that had been cropped after Sirius dared him to).
And so, as he swayed into his house, James was on a mission—slightly inebriated—but still on a mission to make sure Maya (the nickname was catching on it seemed) didn't sleep in the library again—it was the least he could do.
Only he stopped in his tracks when he saw her lounging on the couch, her hair pulled up and dressed only in pajama shorts and a jumper that looked highly familiar. There was soft music he didn't recognize in the background, some sort of Muggle music he thought, and her feet, clad in polka dot socks, were tapping to the rhythm as she read.
