01
warning(s): weed/smoking

"Uh-oh, Wormtail, he's painting again."

James hears Sirius before he sees him. All Saturday, he's been cooped up in the dormitory, anxiously awaiting the news from McGonagall. "Hufflepuff is getting a new captain. Gryffindor will have to change our entire strategy based on who it is. Ugh, it's killing me."

Peter sits on his bed, eyeing the bespectacled boy with interest. "It feels like just yesterday, you were freaking out because Millie took over Slytherin."

Sirius claps Peter on the shoulder. "He should've freaked out. Millie's amazing on the field."

"Yeah, yeah," James mutters distractedly, "You love your girlfriend. I have actual problems here."

"It'll be fine," Peter quips. "Hufflepuff doesn't have a good team anyway. A new captain can't change that."

James whips around with his paintbrush, splattering blush-colored paint everywhere. "That's where you're wrong. A new captain can change everything, Wormtail. Suddenly, hufflepuff can get the house cup and all the great scouts will look to them for new recruits. Gryffindor has to stay on top."

"Slytherin is right behind," Sirius reminds James, who bites back another retort about Millie. "So hufflepuff will have to pass them as well."

"Who is this new hufflepuff captain, anyway? It's got to be one already on the team. Who's good enough to be captain?"

The three boys think for a moment before Peter snaps his fingers. "Mackey."

"Who?" James furrows his brows.

"Mackey Einstein. Great keeper, that one." Peter nods knowledgeably.

"Are you talking about Mickey?" Sirius laughs. "Wormtail, you're horrible at names."

James focuses on his painting. It started out as a Persian cat, complete with a pretty pink bow around her neck. Now it's splattered with frustrated strokes and unfinished inspiration. "It can't be Einstein. He's good, but he can't captain a team."

"Why not?" Sirius asks.

"Because," James draws out the word. "He's like, super jaded. I've never even seen him talk; how could he lead an entire quidditch team?"

"Maybe you haven't noticed him enough," Peter suggests. He dips his finger in the white paint on James' palette and smears it onto the corner of the canvas, "He might surprise you."

James huffs. "Let's hope not. Hufflepuff's first game with Mickey as captain would be against us. We have no idea what plays he'd use or how he'd strategize."

Sirius groans, "That's this Friday, isn't it?"

"Yeah." James taps the handle of the paintbrush against the frames of his glasses. "Maybe I'll go to the field when hufflepuff are done with practice. I can try to psych out Einstein before the game."

"Playing dirty, eh?" Sirius checks the clock on the wall. "Well you'd better hurry. Puff practice ended ten minutes ago."

James curses and jumps up, leaving his paintbrush to fall to the dormitory floor with a clatter.

Peter leans against Sirius as he watches James' retreating figure. "Should we tell him he's got paint on his cheek?"

"Nah."

-

"You've got paint on your cheek." Mickey Einstein is sitting on the quidditch field, flipping through a notebook and smoking what looks like an extremely short and brown cigarette. He only spares James a swift look, and it sort of irritates the bespectacled boy.

James rubs his sleeve against his cheek and huffs. "Anyway, I wanted to ask if you're ready for the game this Friday."

Mickey sighs and sits up straight. "No, you want to try and psych me out. I'm not new to the game, Potter."

James watches Mickey take a long drag of his... "What is that?"

"'Spliff," Mickey says nonchalantly.

James crouches down and glares at the smaller boy. "You brought marijuana to school?"

"The handbook doesn't say I can't."

"There's a handbook?" James shakes his head, "Wait, no. You're going to get sick. Or like, addicted."

"I'll be fine," Mickey says, but he snubs the roach out in the grass anyways. He hisses when some of the remaining ash touches his fingers.

"Where did you even get that?"

Mickey shrugs, looking back through his notebook. "My parents are hippies."

James doesn't really know how to talk to the boy, especially when he seems so flippant about everything. Who brings drugs to school, and uses them out in the open? It's ludicrous. It's absurd. "My dad's a potioneer."

Mickey glances up. "Then why do you suck at potions so much?"

James' mouth drops open. "I don't... Okay but... How do you even know that?"

"I'm in advanced potions and you're not. Also, you and your merry band of friends are sort of hard to ignore," Mickey says. "You guys should tone it down."

"Excuse me—"

"You're excused." Mickey squints his eyes at the sun when he looks up to check James' expression. Truthfully, it sort of looks like he's glaring at James, which is what James uses to fuel the pettiness he's feeling right now.

James stomps his foot, much like a young child. Honestly, this boy is getting more irritating by the second. "I liked you better before we talked."

"You and everyone else." Mickey flips his notebook closed. "Listen, as thrilling as this conversation has been, I've got to make the final touches on my new play."

"You won't win against us." It's a lame attempt at intimidation, but James thinks this confrontation hasn't gone as planned anyway.

Mickey hums and stands up, looking James in the eyes. He has to crane his neck to look up properly, and James is sort of surprised that Mickey isn't taller.

"Has anyone ever told you that you suck at trash talk?"

James scoffs indignantly. "No."

"Okay, I'll do it. You suck at trash talk." He pats James' chest, "See you Friday, Jimbo."

James scrunches up his face in disgust at the nickname, and watches Mickey exit the field.

That most certainly did not go as planned.

-

hey !! mickey is so important to me i hope i'll be able to portray him correctly,,, and i hope you guys will grow to love him, just as much as someone else might ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

anyways sorry this chapter wasn't longer or uhhh written better but thank you for reading anyway! let me know if you like this chapter/mickey and let me know what you like/don't like abt it!!