JPATNM ~ Chapter 6: In Which The Whole World Conspires Against James

Time is what we want most, but what we use worst.

- William Penn

Chapter 6:

In Which The Whole World Conspires Against James

~ James ~

The first day of school did little to impress James. His timetable was handed over to him during breakfast and it was full of promise that he would not have particularly demanding classes.. Better this way, he thought, glancing at Fred, who was howling over the Gryffindor table at his twin sister, bragging about getting a double Care of Magical Creatures first thing in the morning. Fred had been looking forward to this class since he first heard of it; he was hoping that Hagrid would present them a real life dragon at some point; he had been asking Uncle Charlie for information with every chance he got. He even brought three different books about dragons with him. Three! Fred, who wouldn’t finish a book even if it could save him from Mountain Goblins!

James honestly cared little over whatever else he would learn, except for a single class: D.A.D.A.  Professor Cemola might have been the single strictest professor in the school, but she always seemed so interesting, that she had earned his respect from the first day she started shooting threats and warnings at them. Not that he wouldn’t like to pull a prank at her. It was actually the dream of a lifetime. But not quite yet. He had made a promise to himself, to bide his time, until he came up with a plan this brilliant that it will impress her enough that she will appreciate the joke herself. And perhaps I’ll be old enough by then that I can’t get detention because of it, he mused blissfully.

“Mr. Potter, daydreaming, are we?” Cemola snarled at him, tapping her wand on his desk. James stood up straight and tried to look focused, but apparently he was too late. “Five points from Gryffindor.” A few students groaned in complaint. “Although such absentmindedness would cost you an arm or two if you were fighting a dark wizard right now. Another five points, to make sure you won’t forget that.”

He wanted to roll his eyes, but it would probably cost him another five, or maybe ten, points, so he stood as straight and still as he could manage until the end of her lecture. The rest were a blur, during which he tried to remain as invisible as possible, at the back of the classroom and put his thoughts in order. He had had a restless sleep last night, but everyone’s excitement about meeting their friends again didn’t allow him to share worry. Fred and the rest of the family were too busy with their own affairs to mind his problems. Albus was in Slytherin. Rose too. Had he jinxed it somehow, when he teased them about it? He obviously didn’t mean it. It was supposed to be a joke that would finish once they sat next to them at the dining table. He intended to show Albus that cool hiding place behind the dancing mannequin where he and Fred hid their stash of stuff from Uncle George’s shop and drag him along into some mischief. How was he supposed to do that if he’s sleeping eight or more floors below Gryffindor’s common rooms?

Although this way we can do some devilish pranks to the Slytherins! he thought excited. Instantly he shook the thought off. What in the world am I thinking? Al had the mind and the heart of a Gryffindor, when he has his moments at least. He was a bit of a wuss, but he never was sly and cunning enough to fit with those slimy snakes! And what about Mom and Dad? Did they know? Did Al send them a letter, or is he still in shock? James decided that if there was a single time when he needed to act like a big brother, this was it. Ignoring Binn’s unimaginative lecture about the Muggle’s awareness of their great historical events, he unfolded a blank piece of parchment, sunk his quill in black ink and began writing a letter which he would send to Number 12 Grimmauld Place right before lunch.

The motion earned a few surprised looks; there were students fool enough to believe that he, James Potter, the master of procrastination, was meticulously taking notes on the single most boring lesson in the history of Hogwarts. Well, he shouldn’t complain; at least no one peeked over his shoulder, as the letter was a very personal one. If he managed to finish it before the end of class, he meant to write another one, in the most formal English he learned in Muggle school, to the Headmistress, so that she would see the absurdity of last night’s Sorting Ceremony.

By the time class was dismissed, both letters were ready, the ink on them completely dry, and folded in his bag. He sprinted through the never ending stream of hungry students heading in the opposite direction: the dining hall. A strong tug on his cloak cut him down and he came to a halt, looking for the person responsible. Those wretched Slytherins again, they never learn- Or maybe they did. It wasn’t a Slytherin who had stopped him after all, but Filch’s assistant, Mr. Crubs.

Mr. Crubs was a plump man of average height, with gray hair and a receding hairline. For the past few years he had taken over most of Filch’s responsibilities, to many students’ relief and James had to admit that he had let Fred and himself off the hook too many times to count. “Where are you heading, Potter?” His voice was tinged with suspicion. James was not surprised; everyone in the faculty tended to treat him so since they realized what a troublemaker he was.

“I have some important business to attend to,” he said seriously. His tone seemed to worry the caretaker’s assistant.

“I think your most important business at the moment is to go to the dining hall with everyone else,” he said sternly.

“No, but I’m telling you, it’s important!” Couldn’t a person take care of something without giving a full explanation?! “And personal,” he added in a secretive manner.

“Everything you do is personal, from the very first day you set your foot in here. You know I have looked the other way for your sake, but I can’t let you go through with it today. It’s only the first day and I can see you’re put a big plan in your little mind.”

James nodded urgently. “I knew you were a rational person, Mr. Crubs! So I believe you will let me take care of my business.”

“Over my dead body and through the ghost that will emerge from it!” he objected, outraged. His face had turned as red as a beetroot as he pointed with a chubby finger at the direction of the dining hall. “Now head to the Dining Hall, before I ask Filch to come up with a punishment for you before you manage to do whatever you mean to do!”

What an infuriating, stupid grown-up! James felt anger rising all the way from his toes and his head bubbling like a brewing potion as he stomped away. For once I try to do something genuinely nice with no personal gain out of it and I get yelled at! What a nerve! I will do it. After lunch.

Or so he had hoped. After lunch he intended to immediately hurry to the Owlery, but his plans were cut short. A group of toadheaded Slytherins almost cornered him on his way there and he spent so much time evading them, that he had to run to his next class and use two secret passages to be punctual. In the afternoon he was so loaded with heaps of homework and no motivation to work on it, so the rest of the day breezed by. He was in such a gloomy mood that he didn’t realize until midnight that Fred had written silly, insulting poems for every professor where the answers to his assignments should have been. He spent a full hour trying to get rid of the poems written in non-erasable ink and find real answers in his schoolbooks. By the time he crawled into his bed, he couldn’t think of his brother, or anything else.

Similar situations chased after him for the whole first week, as if every breathing creature in Hogwarts was plotting against his success. Mr. Crubs had him under tight surveillance, watching him on his way to and from classes, and where he wasn’t, Mrs. Norris was. The dislikable feline stalked him with her lamp-like eyes. She was a fat creature, bigger than Dad’s Muggle relatives, old and slow, but somehow, she was in front of him every step of the way. On top of everything, every single Slytherin Fred and he had ridiculed at the Hogwarts Express were trying to get them, so they had to slip away and hide in broom cabinets and behind armors so often that it was impossible to reach the squeaky staircase to the owlery without being noticed. He was about to give up.

Until on Friday evening, on his way to the dormitories after yet another failed attempt to reach the owlery, Headmistress DeMolay appeared before him. Her auburn hair was tied in a long braid and she was dressed in deep purple robes that waved behind her, as Buttons, her faithful cat, trailed after her. James couldn’t let this chance get away. He ran after her and didn’t stop until he stood before the tall witch, blocking her way.

“Professor DeMolay,” he started, but words seemed to fail him. She was looking at him patiently with her cat-like eyes, waiting. He shook his head and dug through his bag for one of the two folded letters, which had become a crumbled mess after the first two days inside his schoolbag. “I wrote this letter addressed to you, and I hope you will take the time to see the arguments behind my reasoning,” he said in the gravest tone he could invoke, holding out the envelope to her.

Quietly she opened it and began to read the letter, while James stood there, turning red all the way to his ears. He hadn’t planned to stand right in front of the Headmistress while she read all these flowery sentences he had conjured out of the depths of his mind and the essays he had been forced to write in Muggle school.

“Oh, this is about your brother,” she said simply, in her soft, French accent.

“And my cousin, Rose,” he added solemnly.

“The matter has been settled already. Your parents were here earlier today and we discussed it.” Buttons meowed loudly and rubbed himself against the Principal’s legs, as if in agreement.

“So they are going to be transferred in Gryffindor?” James felt a weight lift off my chest.

“No. Things will stay as they are. I could not offer such a possibility to them; that would be unfair to all the other students who weren’t pleased with the Sorting ceremony. And the ceremony has been quite an important tradition to this school, am I correct?”

He nodded numbly. So much for his flowery sentences. “But Al- I mean Albus- isn’t meant for Slytherin. They’ll eat him alive in there.”

“I believe you are very wrong about that. Albus and Rose were present at the meeting; they said themselves that they would stay in Slytherin. They have a strength of character greater than you have believed them to possess. Now, you should better hurry and go to your dorm room, I believe Mr. Crubs is just around the corner.”

* * * * *

The striped feather was moving from left to right over and over again before his vision. He did his best to ignore it; he was busy staring out of the dorm window after all.

“You are now hyyyyypnotised! Your eyelids are heavyyyyy! You are sleeepyyyy! Or better yet, you’re willing to obey my every wiiiiiill!” Fred sing-sang in a wavering voice, his breath tickling James’s ear.

“No, I’m not,” he objected, not in the least under a hypnotising spell.

“Blimey! I should have known that the hypnotic feather I got from that shady guy in Hogsmeade was bogus!” He groaned in annoyance and threw the feather away.

“When did you buy that? Hogsmeade visits haven’t started yet.”

Fred shrugged and grinned wickedly. “I may have strayed away from the rest of the third-years sometime after our getting off the train. All about which you would have known, had you come to find me anytime during the week. We haven’t even plotted once, since we arrived!”

“I know. I’ve had my problems. Which you would have known, had you come to ask me!”

His cousin turned to look so bizarrely, as if he said that the sky was green and the Dark Lake purple. “Whatever problems could you possibly have? The school year’s just begun, and we haven’t gotten ourselves into trouble yet!”

“Perhaps we aren’t, but Al and Rosie are! They were sorted into the wrong House! We all know that, doesn’t it surprise you at all?!” he exclaimed. It was insane how none of their cousins seemed bothered by it. He saw them all sitting there with their eyes gawking and their mouths gaping wide open when the Sorting Hat said “Slytherin”; twice! Hogwarts was literally crawling with Weasleys, so James could not understand how they all did not stand up for them. Why didn’t he ask for anyone’s help instead of struggling to send two bloody letters? He groaned and bumped his head against the desk.

“What’s done is done. Write them off, your brother is a wicked little thing like you were saying all along!” Fred said simply.

Before he realized it, James rose to his feet. It felt like there was someone possessing his body, that pushed Freddy on the floor, chair and all and began to furiously punch him. Everything was red and white until he was pulled off of him and held against the wall until he quit struggling. “Write them off?!” he snarled. “Did you write off Roxanne just because she went to Ravenclaw?! Albus is my brother! How could you even think that?!” Someone mumbled something to him, perhaps to calm him down, but he shoved them away and ran out of the common room, the Fat Lady’s portrait giving way without any objections despite the late hour.

At last, James was out of the castle grounds, sitting on the dew-soaked grass with a chilly autumn wind blowing at his face. He had wasted away this week. He could have talked to Al, asked how he was doing. Or if he didn’t want to see him, he could ask Rosie. Why was Fred acting like that? He never bothered about his twin sister being sorted to another House. Did that spooky old wizard erase his memories of Al and Rose somehow, except for that meeting at Knockturn Alley? James’s anger faded away, just a little, at the thought. He could forgive him eventually, if it wasn’t his fault for uttering such a horrible thing. He sat staring at the crescent moon and the dark clouds being mirrored on the Dark Lake for a long time, until he saw light coming out of the ground floor’s windows.

That’s probably Mr. Crubs patrolling, he thought and decided that he couldn’t return to the castle for the time being. He headed downhill, to Hagrid’s hut, where puffs of smoke rose from the chimney, as they usually did late at night. The bearded giant was almost not surprised to see him; he had used his hut as a hiding place too many times during his first year at the school already.

“What was it t’is time around?” He poured James some boiled tea and passed him the cup, but it was so hot that he had to put it down almost immediately.

“A little bit of family drama, I suppose.” James kind of wanted to discuss it with somebody, but he also hoped Hagrid wouldn’t ask for the details.

“I ain’t seein’ any more o’ th’ family though!”

He half smiled. “Perhaps the drama is more personal then.”

“Care t’ tell me ‘bout it? It might ‘elp you takin’ it off yer chest.” Just as he had sat down, he bolted right up again, attacking the jars over the fireplace and grabbing a handful of chocolate cookies of humongous proportions. “I made ‘em myself,” he explained. That James could see.

He picked one up, took a deep breath and started from the beginning. Hagrid listened patiently to everything, from his ridiculous attempts to send the letters to his one-sided fight with Fred. “I think I hit him pretty bad. But I left before I could see,” he concluded.

Hagrid shook his hairy head. “Ye shouldn'ta hit ‘im. But he said a horrible thing, tis true.” He nodded to himself. “As fer Albus… ye shouldda talk ter ‘im, as soon as ye can. Siblings should get along. And he might need yer support at some poin’. Don’t let such a silly thing get ye down, laddie. Ye know, many bad wizards came from Slytherin, but being there ain’t bad fer sure. Albus and Rose might change Slytherin’s reputation for the better. Slytherins did many horrible things when yer parents were still at the school. Tis could change things somewhat.”

James sipped his tea quietly, contemplating on what Hagrid had said. He couldn’t see such a big picture as Hagrid did yet, after all he had only heard stories about Voldemort and the Deatheaters from his parents and he couldn’t see why his brother and cousin should be the ones, of all the first years, who should change the way the world saw Slytherin. After all, Slyterins were horrible and sly, as well as big cheaters. They had proven it themselves. “I still don’t understand why Albus asked DeMolay to stay in Slytherin though. He was so scared of being sorted there.”

“Mabe it ain’t as bad as ye think. He mighta made some friends already. And he has Rose too. She’s a tough nut, that one! Only Albus can really tell ye though, why he said it.” They both drank their tea in silence for a while, before Hagrid sprung to his feet once more. “I almos’ forgot!” He shuffled through his pockets, out of which came all kinds of unexpected things from screws to bird feathers to paper wrappings, until he found what he was looking for. It was obvious when he did from his triumphant “Aha!” before giving James a coffee-stained, folded piece of paper. “Don’ bother readin’ it, I’ll tell ye what it’s ‘bout. Yer Dad stopped by earlier a’ said he’d stay in Hogsmeade fer the weekend. I have some official Hogwarts business ter take care of there and the Headmaster has given me permission ter take ye along ter meet Harry.”

James smiled at Hagrid and thanked him gratefully. Dad would know what I should do, he thought gratefully. He snuck into the castle and slid into his bed - luckily no one was still awake, because he wasn’t in the mood to confront anyone at that moment, especially Fred. He laid awake until the sun rose, because he was so anxious that he couldn’t sleep a wink.

Feeling as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, he met Hagrid outside his hut. As they walked, he glanced into the forest, which kept his mind occupied until they arrived to Hogsmeade. The Three Broomsticks were empty at the moment and the sole waitress, a woman about as old as his mum, was observing him odly. It was rather odd for a Hogwarts student to be out in the village and especially when the Hogsmeade visits had not begun yet.

"Hi, there, Tilly, good morning to ye!" greeted Hagrid merrily.

"Morning, Hagrid! You’re up early and with company I see."

''The laddie here has come to meet with his dad while I take care of some things fer t’ school. Look after him ’till he arrives, will ye?"

"Sure thing. Sit down, dear, what do you want me to get you?" she asked as she motioned for James to a stool by the bar.

“Nothing, thanks. I just had breakfast at the school.”

The woman looked at him and scowled, but did not push him more. “So what year are you in? My youngest daughter started at Hogwarts this year, and my oldest ones are in their fourth and fifth year already,” she said proudly. “My Beth sent me a letter right away, telling me she’s in Ravenclaw, just like her sister.”

“I’m a 2nd year,” said James gloomily, thinking of his own brother’s awful sorting.

“You seem worried. I know what’ll cheer you straight up!” she picked up her wand from the bar and waved it towards the stove, commanding a big turquoise kettle to start boiling. Spoons were flying and jars were opening, combining ingredients into a fat, clay cup. Once all was done, the cup presented itself in front of James and landed straight in front of his hands. The steam rising from it carried the familiar, divine scent of warm chocolate.

“Thank you,” James said, unable to resist to the beverage. He had a soft spot for chocolate, ever since his father had told him about his fights with Dementors; it felt as if chocolate held some kind of magical power, despite being a simple thing even Muggles consumed, and the single more interesting thing he couldn’t wait to taste was Fire Whiskey that his uncle Ron loved so much.

It didn’t take long for his Dad to appear. He entered in rumpled robes, messy hair and his glasses loosely balancing on the bridge of his nose. He waved at James with a smile, patted him on the back and sat right next to him.

“Could I get you anyth-” the bar woman's sentence was cut in half as she realized who the unexpected customer was. “Mr Potter! It is so nice meeting you!” she stuttered in amazement. “This kind boy is your son?”

“Yes, James is my oldest,” Harry said proudly.

“He’s a wonderful kid, really proper, knows just how to behave!”

Harry paid little mind to the flattery of the woman who looked somewhat younger than himself. “Really?” He crooked his eyebrow and snuck a look at James.

“I really was quiet, you know,” James hurried to defend himself.

Harry chuckled and ruffled his son’s hair. “I’d like a cup of tea, with half a teaspoon of sugar, please.” The woman left to prepare Harry’s order and father and son were given some privacy.

“Tea?” James asked. Harry rarely had bitter beverages such as tea or coffee.

“Must have something proper and auror-like, I’m here on business after all.”

James smirked. “Right!”

“So…” Harry trailed off, and a million things James wanted to say came to him at once.

“You have to get Albus out of there!”

“What?”

“Out of Slytherin, Dad! You can’t possibly let them stay there. Al isn’t a Slytherin, and Rose isn’t one either! I’ve been trying to send you an owl all week, but I didn’t have the time and Crubbs thought I was up to something and kept on getting in my way.”

“Were you up to something?”

“No! Well… just up to sending you an owl. And yesterday I had the craziest conversation with the Headmistress!”

“Did you get in trouble?”

James shook his head. “I didn’t do anything, I met her at the hall! I told her I’d like Albus to switch Houses and she said that he asked to stay in Slytherin! Can you believe that?”

Harry frowned. “I can. I spoke to Albus. He really asked that. Your mother and I were here earlier this week, to meet with the Headmistress.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you came?”

“It happened really fast, your mother flew over just a few hours before her match against the Tutshill Tornados, and as soon as we were done we left. The Headmistress called in the kids, and they actually said it, she didn’t make it up, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“But- but… he was so fidgety about the sorting ceremony! I can’t understand it! I don’t know what he’s thinking!”

“He didn’t explain it to you?”

James frowned. “Well… we haven’t been talking since Hogwarts Express.” Harry sighed, so James chose to explain before a lot of needless lecturing began. He had learned his lesson after all. “It was all my fault, alright? I came across him and made some nasty jokes about his sorting and I made him so mad… he even punched me! And I haven’t seen him since the Sorting.”

“Oh, James..” Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. There were a lot of things in need to be said and that was not the time to scold him. He really was feeling great regret. “Anyway, the thing is, you need to make up. The Sorting changes nothing, you two are siblings, and we love you both very much. But the Slytherin jokes need to stop. He might need your support. I suppose you read the articles in the Daily Prophet…”

“What articles?”

“You haven’t? Never mind then. It’s tabloid rubbish, as usual. The newspapers never learn.”

“Daaad! What do you mean?” James insisted.

“Here’s your tea,” Mrs Tilly said and placed the cup on the bar with a soft clank. Harry glanced at the barwoman, who was going on about her usual business, but her ears were tuned to the Potters’ conversation. It was certain that this meeting would be the talk of Hogsmeade for the week.

“The average gossiping you would expect. They made a whole issue over Albus’s sorting.” James remained silent. He had been so stupid! He was so very wrapped up in his own musings to pay attention to something like that! “It’s better if you didn’t see, it made your mother really angry.”

“Now it made me too.” James clenched his fist so tight that a thin, green vein popped on the skin of his childish hand. Just then he thought of the last night’s fight between Fred and himself, as he took notice of the ghost of a bruise showed on his knuckles. “I… I actually did a pretty bad thing as well. Yesterday.”

Harry remained silent, bracing himself for the worst.

“Fred said some really nasty things about Al, to write him off now that he’s an evil Slytherin… I just lost it. I’m not sure what I did, some other kids separated us and I left.”

“I’ll talk to his father, see what he knows. We’ll see what we’ll do from there.”

“What do you mean? Didn’t you hear what he said? He was so mean!”

“Are you sure he meant it? You know Fred’s humour is somewhat… crude. You two make the same kinds of jokes. You seem eye to eye about them most of the time.

“I am sure he did!” James insisted stubbornly.

“Maybe, but you need to consider the possibility that he might not. You could be on edge and gotten offended by it, and perhaps misunderstood the way he said it. Regardless, even if you don’t want to speak to him, give him an apology. Especially if you gave him a black eye.”

“Does that mean I need to give two apologies if I gave him two black eyes?”

Harry's eyes grew so wide that his glasses almost fell off his face. “You didn’t!”

James frowned, staring down at his shoes. “I think I did. I took him by surprise so I landed a whole lot of punches I think…”

“Oh, James! What am I going to do with you?”

“I am trying. I really am. I haven’t played a single prank since I started my second year, and I’m handing over most of my homework in time. And I’ll ignore Fred from now on if I have to, and I will be good to Albus, you’ll see!”

Harry gave him a half-hearted smile. “I know you will.” Harry barely had had three sips of his tea before he put it aside. “Whatever you need, you can talk to Mum and me about it, you do know that, right? Albus writes to us almost every day, and it’s alright if you want to do so as well. Don’t try to look tough if you have problems. It’s good to ask for our advice.”

“I guess you’re right. I would’ve tried making up with Al a week earlier if I had talked to you after all. Although I might not have written about Albus punching me. I can’t have that in written evidence, it could ruin my reputation! And Mum! She would have me dust Sirius’s mom’s portrait every day for the next twenty years as a punishment!” Ginny Weasley has only threatened to make her children do that, but never fulfilled those threats so far. Anyone who had ever visited 12 Grimmauld Place knew what a terrible fate that would be.

“That sounds quite like her!” Harry agreed. The bells over the door rang and Hagrid bent his head to step in. He motioned at the Potters from the entrance. “That must mean it’s about time to go back.”

“It must be…” James agreed in disappointment. He dreaded the time he would have to return to the Gryffindor common room and face all the disapproving looks. No one would rat him out even if the Head of the House demanded it, because that was not the Gryffindor way. But those looks he would get… He didn’t want to think about it. “Hey, Dad?”

“Yes?”

“Al has a killer left punch! Who would have imagined it, right? But don’t tell him I told you that! Say hi to Mum and Lily Luna from me!”

Harry chuckled as he found a few sickles to pay for their beverages. What am I going to do with James? He is incorrigible. But also good at heart. Sounds just like someone Snape would hate to meet, he thought as he left the Three Broomsticks and ran down the hillside to get to his assigned location.