Stag Vision
Summary:
Hogwarts years one to seven and a few years after in James Potter's point of view. See how the spoiled little heir dealt with infatuation with redheads, werewolf best friends, illegal magic, greasy gits … etc. Find out how, despite everything, James managed to become the hero that he never thought he would be.
Chapter One: I Want to Be in Gryffindor
A/N: Hello all readers! Thank you for reading this story. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please lighten your blows before you deliver them. I have a sensitive heart.
Disclaimer: You all know the drill. I do not (and never will) own the genius that is Harry Potter. *cue devastated sob*
? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ? ﾟﾌﾌ
First Year: September 1st, 1971
"Goodbye Jamesie," said a tearful Dorea Potter on the platform of number nine and three quarters. "Remember to write home every week."
A rather scrawny little boy with messy black hair replied "I will, mother" rather impatiently, obviously eager to be off. His father chuckled and ruffled his hair, making it even wilder. The tall man pulled a large leather trunk behind him, a handsome tawny owl perched on top, hooting indignantly whenever it was jostled.
"Off you go, squirt" said Charlus affectionately. He handed the trunk to his son. James gave his father a fleeting hug, permitted his mother to kiss his cheek, and then shot off, disappearing into the crowd.
James Potter navigated easily through the throng of parents and their children, reaching the brilliantly red train of the Hogwarts express. Red is a good colour, thought James approvingly. Red is the colour of Gryffindors. Climbing into the train, James began his search for an empty compartment. It wasn't that he was afraid of going into an apartment with people already in it (James Potter was, is, and forever will be, fearless), but it was a very different for another person to enter his domain than for him to enter theirs. James was used to being in charge of any and every situation, and he would prefer for things to stay that way, thank you very much.
Halfway down the train, James found the empty compartment that he was looking for. Grinning happily, he reached over to slide the door open.
Only to bump into another hand.
James' eyes followed that hand and he found that it belonged to a grey-eyed boy around his own age. Said boy regarded James coolly, causing him to bristle slightly and return with a stoic gaze of his own. The silent battle of wills continued for quite some time, and before they knew it, all the compartments around them were full. James knew that he himself sure as hell wasn't going to drag his trunk all the way to the back of the train just so he could avoid some scrawny first year (James studiously ignored the fact that the other boy was slightly taller than he was), so he decided to defuse the situation.
"Why don't we just sit together? This is the only empty one left anyways."
The other boy shrugged nonchalantly. He opened the door and they both went in.
The compartment, as it turned out, was not empty. A small redheaded girl curled up in a corner by the window (her clothes were weird, James noted. Was she a muggle-born?). Tiny sniffles indicated that the girl was crying.
James and his companion exchanged uncomfortable looks, neither of them knew what to do to stop the waterworks. James considered leaving but immediately rejected the idea. It seemed so wrong to leave the crying girl alone, she seemed so … fragile, delicate. Like those porcelain dolls his mother had, the ones that liked to scold him about his hair.
The feeling was new to James, normally he didn't give a knut's worth of thought to how other people (especially strangers) felt. Inexperience made James awkward in a way he never was before in his life. His heart spluttered an uneven beat, heat rushed to his face, his hands fluttered uselessly at his sides and became slick with sweat. James wracked his brain frantically for something –anything– to do.
"Oh!" exclaimed James, remembering the handkerchief that his mother had forced him to always carry in his pocket (James only agreed to carry it with him after his father told him that it's good preparation to bring a gag in case of emergencies). He dug out the clean white square of unicorn silk and dropped it onto the girl's lap.
The redhead picked the handkerchief up gingerly and blew into it. She then gave James a watery smile that made him feel oddly warm inside. The grey-eyed boy looked at James appreciatively for taking care of the damsel in distress.
The girl cleared her throat. "Thanks. I'm Lily Evans, by the way."
James was fascinated by the girl's soft voice. It was a bit thick due to her tears earlier, but James was sure that he'd never heard a voice as soft as hers before. Lily Evan's tone was warm and casual, nothing like the stuffy girls that James had met before at formal parties.
"Sirius Black." The other boy introduced himself. James was a bit embarrassed to realize that he had been so busy marvelling at the girl that he'd forgotten to reply.
"James Potter." James grinned winningly to cover up his lapse.
Sirius regarded him again, this time more evaluating than challenging. "Say, aren't we related?"
Oh yeah. Dorea's maiden name was Black. James couldn't resist cracking a joke. "Aren't we all?"
Sirius barked out a laugh, sort of like a dog. James grinned in a self-satisfied way, he had a feeling this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Lily looked between the two boys, the humour lost on her. Then again, she was a muggleborn; she wouldn't know that almost all the purebloods were related some way or another. The two boys started talking about Quidditch, family scandals and other obscure wizarding topics incomprehensible to those who haven't grown up in the magical community. Unable to join in on the conversation, Lily turned to press her cheek to the window and watch the train pull away from the station.
About ten minutes into their conversation, the compartment door slid open to admit a greasy flop of hair. James wanted to tell Greasy to beat it, but then decided that it wasn't worth it. Greasy sat down opposite to Pretty Lily.
Pretty Lily? Where'd that come from?
"I hear that the school brooms are all Shooting Stars."
"I don't want to talk to you." Lily told Greasy, her voice getting constricted again. James totally understood. If Greasy tried to talk to him, he'd want to cry, too. Years of practice eavesdropping on people during social parties enabled James to keep track of two conversations at once.
"Are you kidding me?! Shooting Stars aren't even fit to sweep floors with."
"I know." Sirius snorted with disgust. "What idiot made up the rule that first years aren't allowed their own brooms? I've got a Nimbus 1000 at home and I'm not even allowed to use it."
"Me too! Hey, speaking of Nimbus brooms, did you know that the Nimbus 1001 is going to come out soon? Next year I think."
Greasy and Lily's conversation started to get a little heated. James was about to interfere when Greasy changed subject (in an obvious attempt to cheer Lily up).
"This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"
Lily smiled a bit and James relaxed, thinking that maybe Greasy wasn't all that bad … … Until he heard his next words.
"You'd better be in Slytherin."
"Slytherin?" repeated James, horrified. Pretty Lily in Slytherin? Never! "Who'd want to be in Slytherin?" the very idea of it was absurd. James sought assurance from his newfound best friend. "I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" To his absolute horror, Sirius slumped forward, expression glum.
"My whole family's been in Slytherin."
"Blimey," said James, dazed. Now that he thought about it, his mother never had mentioned what house she was in back in school. What a downer! "And I thought you seemed alright!"
His comment seemed to cheer Sirius up. "Maybe I'll break the tradition." He grinned. "Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"
James swelled up with pride. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart.'" He quoted while holding up an imaginary sword. "Like my dad!" Charlus Potter was James' hero, the best auror in Europe (and possibly the whole world, too).
His moment was broken when Greasy scoffed. James frowned at the slimeball. "Got a problem with that?" he asked menacingly.
To his credit, Greasy didn't flinch or back down. James felt a grudging seed of respect sprouting in his chest. He tried to squish it down.
"No," Greasy sneered right back at him, "If you want to be brawny rather than brainy."
"Where are you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" Sirius cut in.
James roared with laughter.
Pretty Lily jumped up, her face flushed as red as a Quaffle. James noticed that angry Lily was just as appealing as smiling Lily, maybe even more so. Her eyes flashed bright green, like grass in the Quidditch pitch on a sunny day.
"Come on, Severus, let's go find another compartment."
Lily's voice was just as soft as before, but now it had an edge of steel to it, firm and lofty. Part of James that wasn't caught up in her voice was a bit upset that Lily and Greaseball were on first name basis. (And what kind of name was 'Severus'? It sounded so boring and so severe.)
"Oooo … …" James tried to imitate that voice. He was pleasantly surprised when Sirius joined in. Lily grabbed Greasy's hand and marched out of the compartment. James vented his displeasure by tripping the slimeball on his way out.
"See ya, Snivellus!" Sirius called to their retreating figures.
James chortled along with him. "Snivellus? Genius, pure genius."
Sirius buffed his nails on his robes and examined them, smirking. "I have been accused of that occasionally." He said casually.
James noticed something else, it made him snicker evilly. "Look, she forgot her luggage."
The two boys quickly fell into conversation about past pranks and their victims. A few hours later, when it was time to change into their school robes, the compartment door slid open. Lily strode inside, cheeks flaming, grabbed her trunk, and marched back out again. That sent the boys into a laughing fit all the way to Hogsmead.
They got off the train and followed a half-giant named Hagrid to a small fleet of rowboats. James and Sirius climbed into the same boat, along with a sandy-haired boy wearing robes that had so many patches that it was almost new, and another black-haired kid that James recognized as the stiff Longbottom heir. What was his name again? Fabian? Fraser? Or was it Felix …?
Hogwarts came into view, thousands and millions of bright golden light that shone out of windows outlined the majestic castle. Stars twinkled in the sky, making it difficult to tell where the night sky began and where Hogwarts ended. Even James (who had grown up in his fair share of mansions, villas and manors) was amazed. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw Pretty Lily and Snivellus sitting in the same boat. An unpleasant swooping sensation appeared in the pit of his stomach.
The first years were welcomed at the foot of the stairs by a strict-looking witch who had her hair pulled back into a painfully tight bun.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. I am professor McGonagall, and I will be your transfiguration teacher. The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts … …"
Blah, blah, blah. James yawned, the Professor wasn't saying anything that he didn't know. She noticed and shot James a sharp warning look, it was a lot like the ones he got from his private mentors. James grinned cheekily in response.
The first years waited by the staircase for the Sorting to begin. Some looked nervous, like that plump, mousy boy who was green in the face; some were excited, like James who was eagerly anticipating battling a troll; others were just plain spoilsport.
"Don't worry Lily," whispered a loud nasal voice that James was finding increasingly annoying. "We just have to try on a hat."
His dreams of showing off in front of everyone dispelled, James became rather bored. It seemed like an age until Professor Strict finally came to lead them in.
There were four tables in the great hall, just like his father had described. Curious faces of older students peered at them. James, always one for attention, waved and smiled, he even winked at some of the people he knew (plus one or two teachers). When they reached the front of the hall, Professor Strict put a bedraggled old hat onto a three-legged stool. The Hat sang:
Welcome firsties to Hogwarts
To hoggy warty Hogwarts
Whether you be tall or thin
Whether you be short or fat
We'll stuff your head with
Magic, magic, magic
Are you brave and chivalrous?
Gryffindor welcomes you here
Are you compassionate and loyal?
Hufflepuff welcomes you here
Are you wise and knowledgeable?
Ravenclaw welcomes you here
Are you sly and ambitious?
Slytherin welcomes you here
So don't be afraid to try me on
Egghead, pinhead, I can cap you all
I'll sort you in your rightful house
For I am the Sorting Hat!
The students and teachers all burst into polite applause. Then Professor Strict pulled out a huge roll of parchment and began calling out names.
"Black, Sirius" was the third name to be called. Sirius sauntered up from James' side, seemingly at ease, but his darting eyes and slightly trembling hands hinted otherwise. The brim of the Sorting Hat fell over Sirius' eyes. He sat there for fifteen seconds before the Hat announced: "GRYFFINDOR!"
Many students, especially those at the Slytherin table gasped in surprise; but none was more surprised than Sirius himself. He remained seated on the stool, wearing an expression James might have if somebody told him Professor Strict lets her hair down on weekends and dances to Celestina Warbeck in the local tavern. Slowly, elation overtook the disbelief on Sirius' face, he gave James a thumbs-up and ran down to the Gryffindor table, where a red-haired prefect congratulated him.
A moment later, "Evans, Lily" was called up. Pretty Lily was up there for nearly as long as Sirius. Finally, the Sorting Hat seemed to decide on "GRYFFINDOR!"
James couldn't resist pumping his fist into the air.
Pretty Lily took the hat off and smiled sadly at something (probably Snivellus) over James' shoulder. She sat far away from Sirius, next to a gaggle of gossipy girls. James wasn't sure why Lily was so upset, but he figured that she'd come around once she realized what a great house Gryffindor was.
The Sorting went on. James only paid attention to who his fellow Gryffindors were. There was Marlene Fawley (another pureblood, and one of James' friends), that Longbottom kid (aha! So his name was Frank!), the sandy haired boy who was in the same boat as James (Remus Lupin, what was with that wolfy name?), Mary McDonald (blond in every sense of the word), Dorcas Meadows (the girl looked like she had some serious anger management problems, but with a name like that, who wouldn't?).
The roll call finally reached the 'P's, James could hardly keep from bouncing. The mousy boy that he saw earlier, Peter Pettigrew, went up. He took almost a minute to be sorted into Gryffindor. James decided that the kid might make a good sidekick of sorts, he did like looking after the wimpy ones. (See how wonderful James was? Don't blind yourself looking at his saintly light.)
"Potter, James."
James all but jumped onto the stool, eliciting a few chuckles around the hall. The rim of the hat fell over his eyes.
Ah, Mister Potter. Said a small voice at the back of his mind. You've made quite an influence on Mister Black's final decision.
"So we can choose which house we want to be in?" James whispered hopefully. "I want to be in Gryffindor."
Miss Evans wanted to be in Slytherin you know, but I convinced her that it was not the right choice for her.
James suddenly felt a bit cold. "Please put me in Gryffindor."
Well first, let's see what you've got. Hmmm … Haven't been very chivalrous in the past have we? Very loyal though.
Merlin, he wasn't going to be put into Hufflepuff, was he?
The Hat continued its analysis. You have quite a talent for learning, and aspire to do great things. Hmm … how does Slytherin sound to you?
No! It was as if he'd just had a bucket of ice-cold water upturned on him. James felt absolutely horrified. He was Slytherin material? Slytherin?!
Well why not?
Why not? That stopped James up short, for one scary moment, he couldn't think of a proper reason. I – I'm brave, he offered tentatively.
Yes, the voice agreed, but not that is not your most prominent quality. You do, however, have a certain disregard for the rules and a devious mind to help you break them, both qualities that are highly prized in Slytherin.
James' stomach clenched into a tight ball. I really, really don't want to be in Slytherin, he pleaded. I want to be in Gryffindor with Sirius and Pretty Lily.
Sweet Merlin, did he just refer to Lily as …? Yup, he did. Ah well, it wasn't like James could edit his thoughts before thinking them, they just sorta … came out.
Very well. Was it just his imagination or did the Hat sound … amused? I suppose I could place you in GRYFFINDOR!
The last word was shouted out loud, the volume was almost unbearable. James hated loud noises that weren't caused by him, he preferred to be the loudest thing in his environment at all times (at least when he's not sneaking around). Then, it hit him. He was in Gryffindor. He made it! James whooped and tore down the steps to the Gryffindor table. He collapsed onto the bench, next to Sirius.
"What took you so long, mate? You were up there for, like, a century."
James shivered as he remembered how the Hat tried to put him in Slytherin. He had been shaken to his very core, finding out that he wasn't as brave and wonderful as he had always believed. It was shameful, it made James question his own worth, and it undermined his confidence. The feeling a million times worse than standing before a crying Lily.
No one will ever find out what happened inside James' mind that last minute.
No one.
"The Hat took a fancy to me and wanted a little heart to heart." James smiled slyly at Sirius. "I didn't know that you loved me so much that you wanted to be in the same house as me, Sirius. We've only just met!" he added a scandalized gasp and fanned himself for effect.
Two spots of pink appeared on Sirius' high cheekbones. He punched James' shoulder. "Shut up, it's not like that!"
James blew him a kiss.
"Enough! I'm serious."
"And I'm James, pleased to meet you."
Sirius barked a laugh at the pun, though he tried to turn it into a scoff. "That's not funny."
"Well your laughter suggests otherwise." Chuckled a rather mild voice on Sirius' right. It was Remus Lupin. Up close the boy looked even more haggard and worn, there were half healed scratches on his face and arms. Faint white lines that shimmered under the candlelight hinted at older scars. Remus' expression turned weird when the two black haired boys scrutinized him, nervous, and … scared?
"We don't bite, y'know." Said Sirius dryly, after Remus attempted to back away, only to bump into Peter Pettigrew.
"Hey, are you alright?" asked Peter, steadying him. "Whoa! What happened to your face?"
Remus' eyes darted around quickly. "It's … erm … mad, uh … rabbits?" the high inflection at the end of the sentence made it sound like a question.
Sirius raised an eyebrow. Mad rabbits, really?
Who knows? James shrugged. It might be true.
Peter patted Remus' arm sympathetically. "Poor you."
Remus blushed. "This might sound weird, but … will you guys … I mean, do you guys think … that you could … become friends with me?"
"Sure." James and Sirius replied easily.
Peter gnawed on his lower lip. "If – if that's ok with you …"
It was obvious to James that the other two had self-esteem issues. This means that it's up to him to look out for them. James may not be as brilliant as he thought he was, but he was still sorted into Gryffindor. That had to count for something, right?
"Snape, Severus."
Almost against his will, James' head turned when he heard Snivellus being called up. The git was up there for a really long time, James saw the lower half of Snivellus' face spasm beneath the Sorting Hat, and once or twice, it actually twitched towards the Gryffindor table.
"Merlin," whispered Sirius in a not-so-quiet voice, "reckon the Hat's trying to convince Snivellus to leave school?"
He sniggered unkindly at his own joke. Some of the students at their table laughed along with him, Peter was the loudest with his eager giggling.
Dorcas cackled with obvious delight. "Or it's just suggesting hair potions, must be a long list."
Sirius mock saluted Dorcas, Peter giggled madly. Next to them, Marlene tittered politely while Remus and Frank smiled a tad unwillingly. On the far side of their section of the table, McDonald and a very familiar black-haired girl (where'd she come from?) shifted uncomfortably, Lily stuck her nose disdainfully into the air.
"Hah, hah, hah." laughed James weakly. He found it hard to make fun of Snivellus after his own unsettling experience with the Sorting Hat. It had whispered something to him just before James took the Hat off, words that James was sure would haunt him for the rest of his life.
"SLYTHERIN!"
Snape walked slowly to the Slytherin table, expression unreadable. James had a sudden flashback to the painting of his great-something ancestor, riding to battle alone with only his sword in one hand and his wand in the other. He gave off a sense of purpose, determination, and certain doom, the sense of one who has accepted his fate. James shook his head violently and Snape turned back into a pathetic boy with a sallow complexion and greasy hair.
After that, James watched the rest of the Sorting in silence. It wasn't long until the last first year - "Yaxley, Ingrid", a shockingly lovely girl - was sorted into Slytherin (James was surprised, she had always seemed so agreeable whenever they met at parties). Dumbledore stood to make a toast.
"Welcome to Hogwarts! I would like to inform the first years and remind our older students that the Forbidden Forest is off limits to all those who do not wish to suffer a horrible death. The same goes for the Whomping Willow, a new, exotic addition to our grounds. Our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has posted a list of banned items on the door of his office, I urge all students to go and check that none of your belongings violate the ban.
"I have but a few words to say before the feast begins, and they are: Lemon drops! Pumpkin pasties! Chocolate Frogs!" The headmaster then clapped his hands together three times. At once, a lavish feast appeared on the table. There were lamb chops, steak, mashed potatoes and peas, pork … …
James' mouth watered. Those sweets he and Sirius ate on the train seemed to be ages ago. Grabbing a fork in one hand and a knife in the other, James prepared to dig in.
"Is he … Is the headmaster a bit wrong in the head?" Pretty Lily asked tentatively.
"Are you kidding me?! Old Dumbly up there is absolutely bonkers!" Dorcas cheered.
James paused his attack on the mutton. "That's why we all love 'im. Yeah?"
Students all around the table laughed in agreement.
"Mad as a hatter and twice as brilliant."
"Completely off his rocker… Isn't that fantastic?"
After the main meal, there came dessert. Ice cream of all flavours, cakes topped with cream and fruits, piles of tarts, mountainous mounds of jelly, Turkish Delight, and even mint humbugs. James helped himself to a whole platter of pumpkin pasties, Sirius focused on the meat pies, Remus and Peter shared some chocolate cauldrons, Pretty Lily helped herself to one treacle tart after the next (not that James was paying attention, he just happened to like staring at the Bloody Baron over her shoulder). Now that everyone's hunger was sated, they began to focus on conversation.
James learned that Sirius was actually his cousin, the great nephew of Dorea. ("So, I'm actually your uncle? Sweet!" "In your dreams, shorty." "Ouch!") He had a younger brother named Regulus. ("Annoying little bugger." Sirius said affectionately.) Remus Lupin was a half-blood. His father was a muggleborn, but his mother, Sylvia, was once part of the Rosier family. So they were related, too. Peter Pettigrew was also a half-blood, his father was a muggle who disappeared years ago, but Peter's doting mother more than made up for the man's absence. (James was sure that he could find Peter on the family tree if he looked hard enough, but he was too lazy to check.)
Charlus and Dorea Potter remained mostly neutral on the whole pureblood – muggleborn business, but James was always under the impression that muggleborns were an uncultured lot. He was pleasantly proven wrong that night. Pretty Lily had come from an all muggle family and was the fascination of all the Gryffindor table (all meaning those in the same year as James). Mary McDonald was also muggleborn, but obviously, she was nowhere near as interesting as Pretty Lily. The family that she had grown up in was rather well-to-do. She had a supportive father, a loving mother, and an older sister. Until she met 'Sev' (James snorted), Lily had no idea that she was a witch. Here, Pretty Lily entertained the other Gryffindors with stories of her not-quite-so-accidental magic experiments with 'Sev'. Other than the fact that she hung out with a Slytherin slimeball on daily basis, Pretty Lily seemed almost as cool as Sirius (she was still a bit too girly though. Eeuch!).
The night wore on, and before they knew it, it was time for the students to retire to their dorms. Dumbledore made a few announcements, but not many people paid him any attention. James followed the Gryffindor prefect in a dream-like trance to the Gryffindor common room and slowly dragged himself to his new living quarters. Too sleepy to take a look around, James collapsed on the closest bed available. He was dimly aware of a very indignant 'Oi!' before he drifted off into the world of dreams.
A/N: I will only update when I feel like it, so don't hold your breaths waiting. Have you any idea the workload I have as a Chinese student?