Despite having taken Muggle Studies for four years now, it was just starting to occur to a certain bespectacled individual that choosing such a dry course for his elective might not have been his most genius idea. If it weren't for Padfoot's antsy foot bouncing on the front left leg of his chair, James was almost entirely certain that he would have been rendered unconscious by now.

It wasn't exactly that he disliked the subject. While it was true that his initial motivation for taking the class was to impress Lily Evans, he found that it was more about wanting to get to know her world, the non-magical one, and thus her, better. (He wasn't even sure if he ever did end up telling her that he was taking Muggle Studies. Not that she would ask, anyway.) Unlike other purebloods he had the displeasure to meet, specifically the gits in Slytherin, he genuinely was fascinated with Muggles and their culture. His parents would occasionally let him and his fellow Marauders explore Muggle London when they went out on shopping trips to Diagon Alley. However, he knew that city life was only a sliver of a means of understanding them. So when they were allowed to select an elective starting third year, he didn't think twice to jot down Muggle Studies.

Little did he know that it would just be a class learning about electricity and the oh-so thrilling kitchenware appliances of the culinary world. As Professor Budam rambled about ballpoint pens ("...which are significantly more efficient than quills, mind you! Still don't understand why the wizarding world insists on ink blots and the bird aesthetic when there is a perfectly fine writing tool available... And you don't have to refill the ink every other line too!"), James found himself particularly interested in picking at a loose thread at the edge of his sleeve. He'd have to fix that later.

Before he could continue distracting himself with his robes, Sirius bounced his foot a little too roughly and ended up stepping on James' shoe. This prompted him to send an irritated expression his way, which Sirius didn't seem to notice as he simply adjusted his foot back on to the leg of James' chair to continue his bouncing.

Sirius was in this class for three reasons. The first was that James begged (bribed) him to take the course so he wouldn't be alone. The second was that Sirius knew his mother would throw a hissy-fit-and-a-half if he even step foot in a classroom that breathed the word "Muggle". And last, but certainly not least, Mary Macdonald just so happened to also be taking Muggle Studies. It was a fairly small class as well, so James knew that Sirius intended to use it as an opportunity to "bond" with her more. When he wasn't passed out during the lectures, of course.

They had both continued the class because it was easy enough with the light workload and they had maintained good averages on their OWLs. It was also not hard to notice the declining numbers as the years passed and the war persisted. These were dark times and less people wanted to associate with Muggles in fear of He Who Must Not Be Named. Both James and Sirius supposed that continuing with the class was their little contribution to the rebellion. At least until they could provide more significant assistance in the real world, which they definitely intended on doing as soon as they graduated.

James was just about to doodle another stick-figure on the corner of his notebook when Professor Budam's announcement jerked him back to reality.

"... if you want to read more about print paper vs parchment, Anya Anniya wrote a brilliant excerpt on dimensions and their format purposes on page 218 of your textbook. Now, before I dismiss all of you to enjoy the rest of your day, as I understand the Gryffindor team has their first Quidditch match of the year coming up and will be practicing tonight?-"

At this, Sirius perked up and nodded enthusiastically. James tried not to snicker as he noticed his friend subtly looking off to the side to see if Mary had looked impressed or cared in the slightest. She did not.

"-I do want to inform you all of the final assignment for this term. I know it may seem quite early to be talking about it, but you can never start too soon! It is quite a large project and will be weighted more than your exams this year, so I don't want to see any slacking off. Usually I would assign a boring old essay, but if I read one more student's piece about how they absolutely adored 'Thomas Edington' and his heartwarming invention of the lightbulbs, I honestly just might bang my head in. So instead, I'm allowing complete creative freedom in this project. My only requirements are that it showcases your appreciation for muggles through some medium other than an essay. You can choose to do something discussed thus far in the course, or decide to do something completely new where external research will be necessary. You have a few months to complete it, but I want at least a rough project proposal by the end of the week as proof that you've been thinking about it. Have a good afternoon, class!"

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Cutting through the sky on his trusty broomstick was always James' favourite method of thinking. With the cool autumn wind working with him as he flew around the pitch, he felt like he could do anything. Except, apparently, come up with an idea for the project. 

 He knew he didn't want to make this assignment unbearably plain when it was a rare opportunity to do practically whatever he wanted for school, but how was he supposed to get a topic when they hadn't learned anything of interest in class? While he didn't hate books, thinking about spending hours in the library researching for possible topics did not sound particularly riveting.

After doing a few more laps alongside his teammates as a warm-up, he got them to start their routinely drills before the mini-scrimmage match at the end of the practice. James would supervise and give feedback to the players for the first half hour before releasing the Snitch during individual training where the players would split up (the Beaters would practice batting the Bludgers to one another, Chasers would rehearse passes and plays as they took shots at the Keeper, and James trained alone with the Snitch). He had been a Chaser up until fifth year, when their Seeker graduated and they couldn't find a decent replacement. James stepped up to fill in for the first match, and he never turned back.

There was something liberating about being Seeker. In a way, the Seekers played almost an entirely separate game than the rest of the players on the pitch while also being the deciding point of how it ends. It was a lot of pressure, but it filled James with pride knowing that his team trusted him to be the one to get the golden ball when it was released. Trust was a big thing for him. He trusted his friends and teammates wholeheartedly and he knew they would never betray or hurt-

"JAMES, WATCH OUT-"

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"You know you're the worst, right?"

Remus nodded in agreement with James' comment as Sirius huffed. 

"I said I was sorry! Even the best Beaters, such as myself, make the smallest of miscalculations when it comes to the wild Bludgers. Plus it wasn't completely my fault, you were being all spacey and totally could've dodged that normally."

James sighed. It was true; dodging Bludgers was part of the game and it really should not have been a problem to do so had he been paying attention. He propped himself up to a sitting position with a small groan.

"You're right. I was just thinking about the Muggle Studies assignment and zoned out, I guess."

This time, both Remus and Sirius wore complementary expressions. 

"You were thinking about homework? During practice?" Remus said slowly, confusion dripping off each word.

Sirius knit his eyebrows in concern. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey again-" he said, already standing up and looking to the other side of the Hospital Wing in search for the Hogwarts Matron who attended to James' head injury not long ago.

James rolled his eyes and pulled his friend back down on to the chair beside the hospital bed he was currently occupying. "Oh sit back down, is caring about the project a crime?"

Sirius leaned back into his seat, a skeptical frown still on his face. "I guess not, even though I can't see why you would. If it was DADA or Transfiguration, I'd get it, but Muggle Studies?"

James shrugged. "I want to make the most out of it. You know, make it fun and entertaining for at least myself."

Remus seemed to be a bit lost in thought before glancing at the worn watch on his wrist. "Ah, well as much as I love talking to my dear friends, one mildly-concussed and what-not, prefect duties call."

James felt a familiar pang of jealousy as he watched Moony get up from his seat. Prefects didn't have glamorous jobs, but it did mean some quality time with Lily. Time he had never been able to experience himself.

While Sirius was pouting over Moony abandoning them, James saw something that caught his eye as Remus collected his things from the small bedside table.

"Oi, Moony," James nodded at the book. "What's that?"

Remus looked down at the book in his hands. 

"King Lear? It's a play I'm reading that was recommended to me." For the second time that day, Remus looked puzzled. "Why?"

"The author - Shakespeare, was it? I think I saw Evans reading a book by him once." James replied.

It was in their fourth year to be exact. He was just entering the Gryffindor Common Room when he spotted her fiery red hair curled up beside the fireplace. Taking the opportunity to talk to her, he plopped down in the chair beside her and asked what she was reading. She gave him a curt answer without raising her eyes from the book and he took that as the end of the conversation. Two years later, he couldn't recall the title. But the name 'Shakespeare' was so silly to him that he had to remember.

Something in his head clicked. "Wait, Remus, he's a Muggle writer, right?"

Remus nodded, now absentminded again as he glanced at his watch once more. "Yeah, I can tell you more about him after my rounds. I've got to go now, but I'll see you both at the dorm afterwards!"

As James waved him off, with Sirius screaming after him to ask Evans about Mary, Sirius seemed to notice the glint in his eyes.

"Oh no. Prongs, what are you planning? If it's about the project, I don't want to think about it this early on in the week."

It was definitely about the project.