Author's Notes: This is jily set in the universe of the cartoon series "Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir," only in London and not Paris. You don't need to have seen the show to read this story. If you haven't seen it, though, you should know that Miraculous is kinda super ridiculous. I wrote this fic with the same attitude that I have when watching the show: poke fun at the campy villainry and superpowers, and savor the impeccable love-square set-up. Four ships for the price of one! Hot damn.

Acknowledgements: A million and a half thank-yous to Karaline, Chloe, and Katie for their tireless beta work on this. Ayesha helped me talk through a lot of the adaptation structure before I started writing; some of the stuff with Algernon was her idea. Top-of-the-Castle made the cover art manip. Linds is my eternal cheerleader; I won't forget reading you snippets in Central Park. A final shout-out to all my readers who cheered me on and told me how excited they were to read this. Your support means the world to me.

chapter one.

James jabbed his elbow into Sirius's side. "Ohmygod, act casual."

Sirius, wanker that he was, continued to wave his arm in the air. "Oi, Evans!"

James reached up and yanked Sirius's arm down with more force than the task actually required, just so Sirius would glare at him. Sirius liked to look tough and cool in his leather jacket, but James had muscles Sirius couldn't contend with.

One of the Yoda buskers taking a smoke break flicked a sidelong look at them, then went back to his cigarette.

"I swear," James hissed, "do you even know the meaning of the word casual? There's a Waterstones nearby—let's buy you a dictionary so I can hit you over the head with it."

He risked a glance across Trafalgar Square toward Nelson's Column, where Lily was modeling a gauzy yellow sundress, one much too light and airy for April chills. As unfair as the dress was to Lily, the picture would look riveting. Her bright dress and hair would make a beautiful contrast against the melancholy sky. She kept twirling back and forth to make the skirt flare out, while a photographer crouched down to catch the enormous lion statue behind her as the background. She paused mid-flounce to wave at James and Sirius.

James plastered on a grin even he could tell came across as awkward, and mussed up his hair with one hand. Then he stopped, tucking his hands into his pockets and pretending he found the Yoda busker terribly interesting.

"What," Sirius asked, "are you doing?"

"I thought that maybe I should pretend not to see her," he said. "'Cause like, maybe that's cooler. You know."

"You brought us ten blocks out of the way to come here, so say hello or let's get chips already."

"Hey, d'you know her?" asked some moronic teenage boy next to them. "She is fucking fit as—"

"I'm her boyfriend!" James yelped. "Stop talking! Leave her alone!"

Sirius grabbed James's arm and dragged him further away from the National Gallery entrance. James ducked his head down as they wound their way through the hordes of tourists. Why had his body grown so tall? Everyone could see him. Lily could see him. And oh, god, Sirius was only bringing them closer to her.

Once they'd descended the few stairs to the rest of the Square, Sirius stopped. "You can't keep telling other blokes that you're her boyfriend."

"He was objectifying her—"

"Actually, you know what, keep telling people that. It'll get into one of the tabloids, and then Evans will find out you've been saying it, and—"

"WhathaveIdone—"

"So. Are we saying hello, or are you going to be a twat?" Sirius regarded James for a full three seconds, which was generous, before pressing fingers to his temple. "Right. Both are inevitable. Stupid of me."

"She is a model. She is brilliant. How could I not be a twat in front of her?"

"Maybe I should just start ignoring this," Sirius said to himself. "Maybe that would work." He took hold of James's arm again. "We were on our way to get chips, weren't we?"

James's eyes darted over to Lily. "I mean, yes, but she's so—she's so—" He sighed happily.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you over my stomach growling. Let's go."

"Wait, d'you think I made it worse by playing it too cool? Maybe I should go over there—"

James never got to finish his thought, though, because the four gigantic lion statues around Nelson's Column stood up with a simultaneous roar.

James groaned. "Now?"

"I'm going to get chips," Sirius said, shouting to be heard over the shrieking crowd. "Meet you at yours later."

James couldn't reply over the magically-enhanced voice shouting, "I am Ringmaster!"

James swiveled back toward the National Gallery. A man stood proudly between two of the museum's columns, wearing an outfit very predictable to his new, villainous title. He'd even acquired a black top hat and a whip. It was ridiculous. Either Voldemort let people choose their own atrocious costumes when he evil-ized them, or he chose the clothes himself and had the most offensive taste known to man.

"If these meddling buskers," the man continued, gesturing toward the panicking people in front of him, "want to turn this historic building into a circus, then let's give them a show!"

James only half-listened as he scanned the area, trying to find somewhere private. Why did these villains always have to show up in the most public of places?

The lions leaped down from their perches and prowled across the plaza toward the National Gallery, growling as people shouted and shoved against each other to get out of their path. The living statutes and Star Wars characters and other buskers couldn't escape, not with the sheer number of tourists surrounding them. The Yoda near James faceplanted after someone stepped on his long robe, tripping him up. James hauled him to his feet before someone could trample him, and shoved him into the crowd.

He prepared himself to pull Lily to safety too, but unlike the few gawkers trying to snap pictures, she apparently had the good sense to bolt from danger. Her distinctive red hair had joined the flood of people rushing into the streets in the distance.

He dodged through the crowd, making his way to the edge of the plaza, and spotted the perfect place across three lines of stalled-out traffic: a building under construction, with opaque plastic sheeting draped over the front scaffolding.

James slid over the hoods of stuck cars and shoved his way through terrified civilians to reach the building. He clambered up the metal frame, slipped under the plastic sheeting, and hoisted himself onto the first level of scaffolding.

He opened a flap of his jacket. "Oi, wake up."

A cat-like creature the size of his fist floated out of his inside pocket, glaring at James with his bright yellow eyes.

"I know it's time for your cat nap," James said, "but the circus has come to town." He held up his right hand, his silver ring gleaming. "Algernon, claws out!"

Algernon zipped forward, grumbling, and disappeared into the ring.

Power surged out of James's Miraculous and rippled across his body. His black mask magically slid into place around his eyes, replacing his glasses. Two cat ears sprung into existence out of his now even untidier hair. A skin-tight suit rushed over his body in a matter of seconds, starting at his throat and working its way out and down, enveloping him in black. The moment his tail burst out from the back of his belt, James was off, reaching for the extendable silver staff that stuck to his lower back.

He leaped off the edge of the scaffolding onto a double-decker bus, landing smoothly, one hand planting on the bus in front of him.

Ringmaster was still lording over Trafalgar Square from the Gallery columns, which couldn't bode well for the buskers.

But there was no need to worry about what had happened in James's absence. A girl in a red suit with black polka dots was darting around Trafalgar Square, distracting the lions while more people forced their way out of the plaza. She flung her magic yo-yo up to wrap around the statue on top of Nelson's Column, then pulled herself into the air, flying forward on the string, barely dodging the lion's paw swiping at her.

Ringmaster cracked his whip. "My plaza will soon be the perfect place of tranquility. And unless you want to become cat food, you've no choice, Ladybug. Give me your Miraculous!"

She swung around the column on the string and flung herself back toward the lions, retracting her yo-yo in the process. The lions all pounced on the spot where she'd skidded to a landing, but she'd already hurled her yo-yo to catch on a lamppost, plucking herself out of danger once more. Two of the lions had no time to stop their leaps. Their brass heads clanged into each other.

James grinned.

He held his staff over the edge of the bus, extended one end out to hit the ground, and pole-vaulted himself into the Square. The strength of his suit launched him three stories into the air, wind rushing past him, his heart thudding with excitement. He shortened his staff and angled his legs where they'd need to be, keeping an eye on his target—

Within seconds he landed on the back of a lion running toward Ladybug, the brass ringing out beneath his feet, his arms flinging out to his sides to keep his balance.

"My lady," he called.

The lion stopped in its tracks and let out a terrific roar, trying to shake James off his back.

"About time, Chat Noir," said Ladybug. "Four on one seemed a little unfair."

"For the lions, I assume." He hopped with ease onto the back of the lion next to him.

Another lion swiped at Ladybug. She back-flipped out of the way, her dark red ponytail whipping around. "I prefer my cat interactions to be one-on-one. It's more…intimate."

James laughed. "Arch jump and a barrel roll," he said, and then completed that move off of the lion and onto the plaza. He thrust his staff forward like a sword, telescoping the far end out to knock one of the lions in the head before it could bite Ladybug.

He retracted his staff as he rolled under the stomach of a lion to avoid another one. Its claws screeched as they tore down its friend's side.

James jumped to his feet again. "What's the story on Ringmaster?"

"Think he works for the museum—he's tired of the buskers hanging out in front of the building." She cartwheeled out of the path of another paw. "Apparently they're ruining the aesthetic."

"On the list of London's problems, that one's got to be the highest."

"I don't know why we're fighting villains when we could be fighting bad taste."

"Nah, we'd still have to start with Voldemort."

"The costumes?"

"My thoughts exactly."

She somersaulted underneath a lion as it ran toward James, tripping it up. Then James whacked his staff against its head, fighting the recoil of smashing metal against metal. It only disoriented the animal for a few seconds.

James launched into a back handspring to avoid its jaws, the unnatural breath of the lion hot against his face. "As long as we're talking thoughts, got any on the akumatized item?"

"It's a little insulting to yourself that you have to ask."

He tried to scope out Ringmaster, but an enormous paw was flying at his face. James extended his staff to push himself into the air, leaving the lion's paw to tear at nothing. He hopped on top of another lion for a better view of Ringmaster. It was obvious—he should have noticed the plastic ID card still attached to a lanyard around his neck. Realistic items like that rarely stayed through the transformation, unless the akuma had hidden inside it.

At least most of the civilians had fled by now, save for a few professional and amateur journalists.

"As always, my lady is on point," he said, bounding off the lion. "Unless it's the whip, which, you know, some people—"

But Ladybug was stuck—one of the lions had stomped on her yo-yo string. She tugged at it with both hands, cursing, as two other lions lowered themselves, in preparation for pouncing.

James set his staff at a low angle and telescoped it out, launching himself forward with one arm out to the side. His arm wrapped around Ladybug's chest as he sailed by her. Her arms encircled him immediately, their bodies pressed tightly together. They landed in a rolling, tangled heap, James's side taking most of the impact, but he clung to Ladybug until they'd slowed enough to stop.

She was on top of him, her body warm against his suit, one hand pushing her slightly off of his chest. She stared down at him with those brilliant green eyes, her lips quirked in that pleased smile she wore during battle sometimes, the one that said she was having just as much fun as James.

He smiled back at her, and this was everything, being Chat Noir. This suit, this task, this partnership—this was perfection.

"Whips are a bit much for me," she said softly, "but other things—"

Movement streaked in the corner of James's eye.

"Lions," he said quickly.

She jumped off of Chat, her yo-yo in hand—they'd had enough power to yank it out from the lion's paw—and turned back to the fight. James leaped to his feet as the lions advanced on them from all sides.

"We'll never be able to deal with Ringmaster as long as we're busy with these lions," Ladybug said.

Ringmaster was still up at the Gallery, shouting about how beautiful the Square looked with no lousy buskers. Every now and then he mixed in something about how Ladybug and Chat Noir needed to turn over their Miraculouses, but that was all rote stuff James could ignore.

"You might say we're in an a-paw-ling situation," James told Ladybug.

"Fewer puns, more fighting."

"You wound my pride, when you really need to wound theirs." He nodded toward the lions.

She sent him a flat look and hurled her yo-yo up into the sky. "Lucky Charm!"

Pink light burst out from the yo-yo. Then the yo-yo snapped back into her palm, and a new, duplicate yo-yo dropped down after it. She deftly caught it in her free hand.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" she said. "I already have a yo-yo."

"Cats like playing with strings?"

He barely managed to finish replying before he had to put an arm around her waist and launch them into the air with his staff, throwing them both toward the top of Nelson's Column. They landed together on the ledge at the base of the statue, their arms around each other again.

These were the views people would kill for. Too bad James didn't exactly have time to enjoy it. Although he was enjoying it in a different way, really, his mind already spinning out new ideas on how to handle Ringmaster.

"I've got an idea," she said, her face so near to his. "I'll take care of the lions—you get the badge."

"I don't get to be the distraction this time?"

"You're always terribly distracting, chaton." She tapped a finger against his nose. "Now bring me down and get to work."

"As my lady wishes."

He brought them down just out of reach of the lions and let go of Ladybug. She landed behind a lion and swiftly wrapped the duplicate yo-yo around his hind paw.

"Wrap them up neatly for me," James told her, dropping onto another lion. He leaped off at once, heading directly for Ringmaster and attaching his staff to his lower back.

"Anything for you, chaton."

She'd run circles around those lions, tying them up in a nice package, leaving James to focus on stopping the source.

Ringmaster hadn't moved from his perch between the columns. James tried to jump up to join him, but Ringmaster's whip slapped into his chest.

"Christ," James said, falling onto his arse and clutching his ribs. "I didn't think you'd actually know how to use it."

"Doesn't the Square look better this way? No horrid cartoon characters or garishly painted living statutes. Voldemort will let me keep this Square beautiful, and all you need to do to help is give me your Miraculous!"

Ringmaster hopped down to the plaza to advance on James, cracking the whip in the air.

James scrambled backwards. He managed to get to his feet just in time to leap to the side. The whip grazed against his shin as he darted away, drawing another curse out of him. The suit was mostly protecting him, but that whip still smarted. His chest ached where it had sliced against him.

"Your ring!" Ringmaster lifted his whip for another attack. "Give it to me!"

James held up a hand. "Oh, this little old thing? You want it? Try to whip it off me!"

Ringmaster snapped his hand down, sending the whip directly at James—

"Cataclysm!" James cried.

More tingling magic poured into his hand, flooding it until it glowed black. The whip tried to wrap around James's hand, but as soon as it made contact with him, the whole length of it disintegrated into black dust.

"No!" Ringmaster staggered back from James. "My lions, protect me!"

James bolted forward and snatched the ID badge on Ringmaster's chest, yanking until the lanyard broke. He held up the ID, ripped it in half, and let the pieces fall to the ground.

Out of the broken badge floated a tiny black moth, the akuma now set free.

James shouted, "Ladybug, now!"

He finally had time to look back at the lions. The duplicate yo-yo was doing a terrific job of binding them together, its wire just as strong as the real Ladybug yo-yo.

She bounded up the stairs toward the National Gallery and flung her yo-yo toward the akuma. The top half of the yo-yo opened into two wings, revealing a bright white light that sucked up the moth.

The wings closed for a moment. "No more evil for you," she said, and tapped the yo-yo to open again. A white, completely harmless moth fluttered out, circling once around Ladybug's smiling face before disappearing up into the sky.

Without the akuma to power them, the lions had fallen still on the lower terrace. The duplicate yo-yo unwound itself from them and flew over to Ladybug, who tossed it up in the air.

"Miraculous Ladybug!" she cried.

The duplicate yo-yo disappeared in an explosion of pink light, which blanketed the Square, returning the lions to their original position. Any damage on them disappeared, and any scuffs on the ground vanished, as though the entire fight had never happened.

James couldn't count how many times he'd watched Ladybug magically return things to the status quo, but his breath still caught every time. Magic was real. Magic was real, and James got to be a part of it.

He and Ladybug high-fived each other.

"Good game," he told her.

Her green eyes were alight. "You too."

James turned to the former Ringmaster, who had reverted to a normal museum employee with a tweed coat, a repaired ID badge, and frazzled white hair.

"What happened?" he asked.

James helped him to his feet. "Voldemort sent an akuma after you."

The man scoffed. "Of course he did. He can't stand the educated, you know."

"No one's proven that—"

"He wants to reduce us all to our baser selves."

James sighed. "Look, just, I dunno, get some water and rest or something. No need to thank us or anything for saving your life…"

People—mostly reporters—had begun flooding the Square once the Miraculous light had cleansed it of evil. That, and the chirps from James's ring and Ladybug's earrings, meant it was time to go.

He bowed to Ladybug. "Until next time, my lady."

She saluted him back, grinning. "Chaton."

"Chat Noir! Ladybug!" cried different reporters, scrambling to reach them in time.

Ladybug flung her yo-yo to catch on top of the National Gallery, pulling herself into the air, and James launched away with his staff to land on a rooftop across the street.

Trafalgar Square was as pristine as it ever got below him, which meant some McDonald's wrappers and discarded paper cups lingered in its corners. Already a busker in gold body paint was marching back to his place near the National Gallery entrance, with several camera-wielding tourists trailing behind him.

London was back to normal. For now, anyway.

He bounded away onto another rooftop, his only thought that he hoped Lily had got home safely.

James had always wanted to be a superhero. The problem was that most superheroes in the comics were born with their powers. In his first fifteen years of life, James had not noticed anything unusual about himself other than his unnaturally untidy hair and rhino-like nearsightedness. Not for lack of trying, of course.

His family had enough money that he easily could have gone the Batman route. But Bruce Wayne had been so much older by the time he got around to superheroing, and he'd had to lose his parents to get the money, so that route didn't appeal at all.

The final category of superheroes came into their powers by chance. This was the category James found himself in.

The first day of school was, in hindsight, the most important day of his life. Not only had Algernon randomly shown up, but that was the day Lily Evans had walked into James's life.

He'd been sitting in the back of the room with his mates, trying to think of new insults for Snape—Insult Snape was one of their favorites, and had also taught them many new words that had boosted their English grades—when she strolled in.

Maybe, under other circumstances, he would have been glued to his seat, his eyes drawn to her the moment she entered; they would have looked at each other from across the room, and he would have waved her over, welcoming the new girl…

But in truth James hadn't even noticed her at first. He'd been too busy howling with laughter over Sirius's latest epithet. Then Peter jabbed James's side and said, "Who's that with Snape?"

Snape and some red-headed girl were sitting in the front row, leaning across the aisle to talk in low voices.

"Got a girlfriend, there, Snivellus?" Sirius called. "I hope her hourly rate isn't too high for you."

"Now, Sirius," James said, "I think we can assume that the mayor is paying for all of his needs to be taken care of—"

The girl launched to her feet, spinning back to them with her hands clenched into fists.

"I think it's very clear," she said, "exactly who in this room is desperate for female attention. Four boys over there and not one girl? I can't imagine why you're all stuck in the back where no one has to look at your faces—"

Snape pulled at her sleeve. "Lily, you can't."

Her skin went paler. So striking, really, against the vivid red hair and the bright green eyes.

And she did have a tongue on her, didn't she? She didn't hesitate at all, and as far as comebacks went, that had really not been bad, especially for having just met James and his mates.

But she was friends with Snape. She clearly had no taste or kindness in her, so James just tried to cock an eyebrow at her. He could never seem to figure out how to just raise one, though, so both his eyebrows went up, but he was sure his point had been made.

"Snivelly is standing down?" James said. "Oh, does the poor thing feel like we've bested him once and for all?"

Lily let out a slow, tense breath, like she was itching to unleash another tirade, but instead she sat down, her hands still in fists. Snape leaned over and whispered something in her ear.

Then he drew himself upright and said, "Rest assured that there will be no standing down, you insipid buffoons—"

"Mr. Snape," said Ms. McGonagall as she marched into her room. "Sit down. The next word permitted to leave your mouth is 'present.' Kindly refrain from speaking until such an opportunity presents itself."

Snape wasn't idiot enough to mess with McGonagall, or to do much more than glare at James and Sirius the rest of class.

Peter passed James a note that said that was brilliant! on it. James just smiled in response, too busy studying the new girl while his hand tangled in his hair.

Apparently Lily—Evans, as James learned from registration—had something keeping her from going off the rails. This, of course, proved too tempting an opportunity for James and Sirius to ignore. All day, they lobbed paper balls at Snape whenever the teacher's back was turned. They tripped him up as he came out of the loo. And they took every opportunity to ram their school bags into him in the corridors, mock-whispering insults along the way.

Per James's instructions, they left Evans alone. But every little slight on Snape sparked a curious light in her eyes, her jaw clenching, and by the end of the day, James got his wish.

Before their last class, Snape lay in a fallen heap on a staircase, and Evans was advancing on James.

"You arrogant, bullying toerag—messing up your hair because you think it looks cool, walking down corridors and bothering anyone who annoys you—I'm surprised you don't topple over during football practice with that fat head on your shoulders—"

"You know I'm on the football team?" James asked, just as McGonagall pried through the crowd and said, "Miss Evans."

"Shit," said Evans, and slapped a hand over her mouth.

"My office," McGonagall said, pointing at James and Evans. "The two of you. Now."

Then her stern look softened, not into forgiveness, but concern. She tilted her head ever so slightly.

A distant fluttering noise grew louder, and then louder still.

James slowly turned around.

The noise grew closer, sounding almost like thunderous applause.

At the end of the corridor, a book sailed around the corner toward them. Not thrown. Not tossed. But flying. Legitimately flying—soaring through the air with its pages flapping like wings.

Dozens of books followed after it, a deafening flock of them hurtling down the corridor. James and Sirius shared a stunned look before turning their attention back to the impossible sight in front of them. Textbooks, paperbacks, even an atlas near the front—

That promptly dropped down from the pack to hurl itself into Terry Heaney's face.

Terry cried out while other books pelted themselves at people's heads.

"Run!" shouted McGonagall.

She tore open a cupboard and grabbed a broom, but James didn't stick around to watch any further. He shoved Peter and Remus toward the other end of the corridor, Sirius at his side, and the four of them joined the melee rushing away.

James's heart thudded in his chest. He was in terrific shape, sure, but he was used to dodging footballs, not magic books, and what the hell was happening?

He stopped every now and then to bat books away from others' heads, earning razor-sharp paper cuts for his efforts, and then bolting to catch up to his mates. They had to get out of there, they had to keep moving, because who knew what had caused it, and maybe something worse would fly out after the books.

They all had sizeable bumps on their head by the time they crashed through an emergency exit. As they stumbled out onto the pavement, books sailed through the open door behind them, not content to be contained by the confines of the school.

"Oh my god," James said, panting. "Oh my god."

"It's remarkable." Remus stared up at the swarming books. "They all seem to have independent thought."

A dictionary dove at them, but James knocked it away with his school bag. Several pages fluttered to the ground. The book recovered and made another attempt, this time going for the back of an old man with a long, white beard who was watching the school.

James jumped forward to pull the man out of the book's path.

"Sorry," he said, steadying the man by the arm. "You've got to watch out. We're probably not mass hallucinating this… Probably."

The man's blue eyes twinkled behind half-moon spectacles. It was weird.

"Are you a student here?" the man asked, very serene for having almost been nailed in the head by a flying dictionary.

"Was," James said. "But, you know, I think extenuating circumstances means we get to skive off a little early today."

The man made an odd humming noise, almost like he was pleased.

"Er, right. Be careful, I guess," James told him, and ran back to his friends.

After waving at McGonagall in the distance to show they were accounted for, he rounded up his mates and paraded them to his nearby home. His dad didn't believe what had happened to them until they turned on the news. Then his dad had a fit of his own, asked all the unanswered questions James and his mates had already discussed, and sent the lot of them upstairs. He ordered them to stay put on the second-floor living room, shoving a tall pile of biscuits and croissants at them to "help them through their shock."

James left his mates in the living room and headed up to the third level. He was going to change out of his shirt, which had a few specks of blood on it from his hands, but he got distracted by a dark, hexagonal box on his bed.

He dropped his bag on the floor and picked up the box. It fit neatly in the palm of his hand, but it didn't have any markings or text. There was just smooth wood with a clean golden hinge at the back.

It opened without a sound.

Something flew out of the box at his face. His hand jerked up to protect himself, but the thing swerved away at the last second.

He let the box tumble back onto the bedspread.

"Oh, come on," James said, grabbing his book bag. "Not here, too. I'm already terrified of going to libraries ever again and I'd really like to keep my room trauma-free."

The thing zipped around the edge of the room and then came zooming back toward James. He prepared to use his book bag as a bat again, but the thing dropped down to float above the box.

Upon closer inspection, it wasn't a thing so much as a miniature orange cat. It had an oversized head, like a cartoon character, and tiny arms and legs.

The cat didn't say anything. It just hovered there, staring up at James.

"Well," James said. "This is weird."

He and the cat had a stare-off for a while, James's book bag still hoisted at the ready.

But it seemed the cat wasn't about to claw at him. In fact, it gave him a pointed look, like James should have known what he wanted. Eventually he pointed a claw down at the box.

James slowly lowered his bag and reached down.

Part of him was saying, Indiana Jones only ever got in trouble for this sort of thing, while the other part was saying—well, the same thing, honestly, but in a more ecstatic tone.

The box contained a silver ring with a wide band and a flat circular disc, like an empty space where a large jewel belonged.

James didn't think twice before sliding it onto his finger.

"What's this all about," he muttered to himself.

In a flash, the cat vanished into the disc, like it had sucked him up. The ring turned deep black. A green paw print appeared on the disc, a flood of black sparkly magic washed over him, and James found himself the proud owner of a supersuit.

"About time," James said, checking out his tail.

He could feel two ears twitching happily on his head, and he grinned.

Superpowers attained. That staff attached to his back was definitely a weapon of some sort, even if it didn't seem to do much more than get longer. Beggars couldn't be choosers, though, and James was no beggar. He was a bloody superhero!

The next step after suiting up was always battling evil, and there could be no mistake about the timing between the appearance of flying books and James's new supersuit.

He climbed up to the rooftop patio, admiring the firm claws on his gloves, and headed off to the school.

Figuring out his staff turned out to be easier than he'd expected. Different buttons made it longer or shorter, while others turned it into some sort of phone-like thing. It seemed straightforward enough. He might have fallen a fair few times trying to get to Hogwarts, but it wasn't too bad, and the suit had magical shock-absorption powers. Or, as he learned, limited shock-absorption powers.

And yes, maybe he fell in a wheelie bin once, but no one saw so it didn't count.

Eventually he made it to the school via rooftops, terrifying only one child in the process, and found books still circling in the air overhead. Every now and then one would dive down to attack a journalist or police officer set up out front.

James snuck in through the rooftop entrance and headed for the library. He crept in from a side door and ducked behind an upturned desk, his heart beating wildly. It looked like a rain-free hurricane had swept through the room, leaving all the bookcases crashed sideways against each other, and stray pages carpeting the floor.

It had been a running joke in his class for years that Silvia Dodgson secretly slept in the library. And to some degree, maybe that would be true now.

She stood cackling on top of the librarian's desk. Or some weird version of her, anyway, the kind that wore a stupid black and purple outfit, and saw fit to call out loudly that no one could keep her from her precious books.

He was sitting there, wracking his brains over whether he was supposed to turn her into the police or what, when Silvia shouted, "Give me that Miraculous!"

He peeked over the edge to see a girl in a red suit with black polka dots. Although she had a yo-yo instead of a staff, it was clear they were meant to be partners; her mask was the exact same shape as his.

There was also the clue where the suited girl was trying to stop Silvia.

It took about thirty seconds of James trying to help the girl before Silvia unleashed a new wave of flying books at them. In tandem, they jumped over some tipped-over stacks, whipping their weapons in frantic circles like shields to fend off books.

"I'm Ladybug," she said.

"I'm—uh—"

She grinned at him, knocking away another book. "Still working on a name?"

"Guess so. What's the plan? How do we stop her?"

"We have to get the akuma—"

"The what?"

Ladybug took a book to the shin, but shook it off. "The evil-ized spirit-thing that's hiding in an object on her? The one giving her powers?"

James blinked at her.

"Didn't your kwami explain anything to you?"

"Like…the cat thing that came with the ring box?"

"Probably."

"He doesn't talk, as far as I can tell."

"What? How useless."

James dove into a somersault to avoid a book. "You're telling me."

"You were able to transform, though—how did you get your kwami into your Miraculous without saying the right phrase?"

"He just kinda went into the ring, and then the suit showed up, and I booked it here."

"First off, a pun at this time? Really?" She wrapped her yo-yo around a book to yank it away before it could smash into James's face. "Second, aren't you worried about any of this? You seem to be taking it all in stride, considering you had no explanation."

He'd been given a fucking supersuit and was battling an evil villain—what was there to complain about or question?

James waggled his eyebrows, and felt his cat ears twitch in time with them. "I'm just that good."

To his great pride, he was able to prove he was just that good by helping Ladybug snap the highlighter in Silvia's hand. James distracted Silvia by running around, leading her up to the roof, and knocking books out of the air with his staff.

Ladybug had to explain to James how to use Cataclysm—"You only get one shot to destroy something"—and why she had to purify the dark moth.

"Otherwise it'll multiply," she said. "We can't just let it go."

With James as the distraction, Ladybug got the sneak on Silvia, tied her up with her yo-yo, and snatched the highlighter.

James watched, fascinated, as her yo-yo removed the weird black glow from the moth akuma. It was impressive, but not as impressive as when Ladybug tossed the squirt gun she'd conjured with Lucky Charm up in the air, sending out that magic pink light to fix everything back to normal.

Damn. She had much cooler powers than him.

Still. James couldn't complain. He could destroy anything.

His ring beeped, like it had twice already, and he watched one of the green paw prints flicker away. First it gave him powers, but now it seemed set on annoying him.

Silvia picked herself off the ground, pressing one hand to her forehead. "What happened?"

James placed a steady hand on her shoulder. "We could ask you the same."

"The librarian banned me because I'd highlighted too many books." Silvia sniffled, running her cardigan sleeve over her nose. "I ran to the bathroom so no one would see me cry…but this black moth showed up and disappeared into my highlighter, and then there was a voice in my head, and he said he'd help me get revenge if I helped him get the Miraculouses…and then I don't remember."

"It's, er, all right," James said, shooting Ladybug a desperate look.

"It's not your fault," Ladybug said. "Someone's misusing the Miraculous that gives other people superpowers. Anyone who feels negative emotions is susceptible to his akumas."

"Wait, that's what happened?" James said.

"Finally," she said, "he shows some curiosity—"

A flurry of dark moths swarmed in front of them, creating an enormous, fluttering face.

Silvia shrieked and ran for the rooftop door, but James and Ladybug reached for their weapons.

"I am Voldemort," the face said. "I will have the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses. Until they're in my possession, London will not see peace."

Ladybug shot her yo-yo into the face, which made James laugh, and snatched all the darkness out of the moths. They fluttered into the city around them, floating into the crowds and reporters that had gathered around the school, while James and Ladybug high-fived each other.

"Well," James said, his blood thrumming with adrenaline and glee and satisfaction, "I don't think London could ask for better superheroes, Ladybug."

"You're not short on confidence at all, are you?"

He flexed his arms. "Why should I be? Chat Noir's a pretty great superhero. He's got a lot to be proud of. I don't know if you know this, but he beat a villain today."

"With help from Ladybug!"

"Oh, my lady, I didn't mean to offend." He swept into a bow. "Chat Noir would clearly be nothing without the quick thinking and unparalleled agility from the lovely Ladybug."

Her mouth slid into a smirk. "Well, I've got a suggestion for us, if that's how you feel—"

"I paws-itively do feel that way."

That exasperated look she brought out was—endearing. Charming. He wouldn't have minded inspiring it more often. And, really, she was very fit, now that he had a moment to notice…

"And he does puns," she said. "I knew there had to be something wrong with him."

"Aw, you know I'm meow-gnificent. So meow-gnificent that I think we should go tell those reporters exactly who we are and how great we're going to be at defending London."

She frowned. "You want to go show off for them?"

"We're bloody superheroes! They'll want to talk to us, yeah? Get our picture in the paper and on the news."

"You've got a couple minutes left as Chat Noir, and you don't want to spend them with me?"

"Wait, what?"

"When you're out of pawprints, you're out of time. We have five minutes after using our special powers before the suit wears off. Hence the beeps?"

"Shit. I've only got two pawprints left!"

"Sorry to see you go, but I've got to run before we both turn into pumpkins. Not much point in a secret identity if you unmask yourself in front of the cameras."

James gave the reporters below a lingering look, then reached for his staff. "Guess my big debut will have to wait."

She pulled her hand back, preparing to launch her yo-yo. "Until next time, Chat Noir."

James swept into a bow. "My lady."

She groaned, but James smiled, a small one to himself.

He was probably fooling himself that she turned a little pink. He was probably just desperate for a pretty girl to like him.

But maybe not.