The first time Eleanor Castlewood and James Sirius Potter met, she punched him. BAM. Straight in the face. Quite memorable if you asked him. Nothing but routine if you asked her.
James Sirius Potter had the pleasure of having no cousins, siblings, or close family acquaintances in his year. He had a clean slate to start off his years at Hogwarts, and he certainly intended to take advantage of that to meet some awesome people and pull awesome pranks and show them that if he was the son of Harry Potter, he was James Sirius Unique Potter…
Eleanor Castlewood was scared of nothing, be it bullies and fistfights or tea parties amongst fancy pantsy ladies. Nothing at all. But receiving a letter by owl saying she was a witch and that she was expected to attend a boarding school for seven years was certainly unusual. Her troubles began with the incredible salamander she convinced her father to buy her, and her mother fretting over the plain and rather inelegant school unifo… Erm robes.
Eleanor left her parents outside of platform 9 ¾ as they were unable to cross the barrier, and walked confidently across the barrier as if she had already done so a thousand times. On the other side, the red steam engine transported her a couple centuries in the past, further even than when she went to visit her grandmother (she was a really narrow minded and half dement lady whom Eleanor never particularly enjoyed spending time with).
But back to the the matter at hand. James had spotted Eleanor the very moment she had crossed the brick wall. Confident people have that strange way of attracting the observer's eye, don't they? Several people on the platform had turned to look at this girl pushing her trolley with the most poise and elegance James had ever seen in someone his age, casually letting people's eyes rest on her so in a way that was not cocky nor self-centered, simply unaware that her presence had such an effect on the world around her.
James decided to look for friends his age on the train, and left the rest of his family in the last compartment of the train, furthest away from the Prefects' carriage, and began walking through the carriages, peeking discretely inside the compartments in search for fellow first years.
"Oh my, you're James Potter, aren't you?" Someone screeched behind him.
"Huh?" James turned around and saw a group of girls coming out of the bathroom.
"Wait, can I get an autograph?"
"An autograph?" James repeated stupidly, then ran as fast as he could away from the groupies that had begun giggling like creeps, and screeching his name through the halls.
James zigzaged through the crowded corridors of the carriages, avoiding bags and elbows as best he could. He had managed to cross two carriages already when he spotted the food trolley up ahead.
'Oh no….' He thought, 'I am doomed.' He picked up the pace and tried to squeeze his way between the wall and the trolley. He closed his eyes and heard the unmistakable sound of plastic and aluminum wrappings falling to the floor, of coins clinking together as they rolled away. He didn't stop, eager to find a hiding spot. he was really starting to hate this whole fame thing.
"Hey, you!" He heard a girl call. He stopped, and turned around. The fancy and noble looking girl from the platform was pointing a finger at him.
"What?" He replied angrily.
"Apologize." She said sternly, stepping towards him.
"What?"
"Apologize!" She was now standing only a few inches from him, tall and confident.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I saw you, idiot."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He repeated stubbornly. Then he felt a sharp pain in his nose. "What the hell?" He shouted, grabbing his nose. He felt the warm thickness of blood through his fingers.
"Apologize." The girl said again, unclenching her fist. "And help the lady pick the candy up." James nodded, then cautiously walked around the girl and bent down to help the trolley lady pick up her merchandise.
"Sorry ma'am." He whispered.
"Oh, dear, let me fix that nose. Episkey." She pointed her wand at him. "There."
"Thank you ma'am."
"Mr. Potter, I heard from Prof. Longbottom that you were thinking of becoming a healer."
"I am, Sir."
"You see… Your marks in my class are lacking, and I'm not sure you will be able to take NEWT level classes, not because you don't have the capacities, but because you lack basics, as I remember it took you three years to actually start working." Fifth year James Potter flinched at the words from his Potions teacher. It was true… He had not touched a single book before his fourth year, when he had discovered a skill for healing, when he'd fixed beautifully one of his Quidditch team mates arm after she was hit by a nasty Bludger. He'd really improved, reaching the level of the top three students of his year, but this was a bit unexpected.
"What can I do, Professor?"
"I've asked my best student if she would mind tutoring you, and she accepted." James raised an eyebrow. "Ms. Castlewood is the best potioneer I have ever encountered, I believe she will be a great solution to your problem."
"Yes, sir."
"I've asked her to meet me here, but it would seem she is a little late…"
James resisted the urge to groan… Slytherin jewel Eleanor Castlewood was the ban of his existence. She was a Prefect, excellent student academically, brilliant Quidditch player and above all, the first Muggleborn to be sorted into the snake House. James had also learned of her Muggle noble descent, explaining also why she was so bloody perfect. And now she would be rubbing it in his face even more.
A knock on the door brought him out of his reverie.
"Yes?" Eleanor pushed the door. "Ms. Castlewood."
"Good evening, Professor. I'm so sorry I'm late, there was a little accident in practice." She was actually still in her Quidditch robes, her cheeks red from the cold September wind. Her hair was unusually messy, pulled up in a sort of indistinguishable half-bun that had collapsed onto her shoulders. James noticed a few curls here and there sprinkled in her hair, which he found odd considering she had possibly the thickest and straightest hair ever seen. He knew that because his sister Lily was jealous, ok? "Potter, nice to see you."
"Castlewood."
"Alright you two." Professor Aconit said, seemingly oblivious to the tension between the two students. "I have an appointment with the Headmistress, so I must go. I trust you can settle down a proper revision planning, you are after all my two best students." James and Eleanor unconsciously smiled at each other, and immediately turned their eyes away upon realization. "I'll check up on your progress every three or four weeks, alright James?"
"Of course Professor. Thank you so much for this."
"I'm not the one you should be thanking, Mr. Potter. Don't stay too late, please."
"Yes, Sir." Eleanor nodded, watching Professor Aconit leave the classroom with a perfect smile on her lips. "So, James, I hear you want to become a Healer."
"Yep."
"I'll help you catch up in Potions, promise."
"Thanks…"
"So, I understand what you're lacking in basic understanding of ingredients and potion use. So I got this book for you." She pulled out an enormous book from her bag, titled '5 000 ingredients for the perfect potion'.
"Right…"
"So Muggles have this thing for studying called flashcards. Essentially, it's associating a word or an idea to its definition, or most common use. For example, a flashcard for Bezoar would say antidote. Your flashcard for billywig wing would say deadly, only uses are Drought of Death and Poisons. That way you'll associate the ingredient with its use, so that even if you don't remember how to brew a specific Potion, you'll easily be able to produce something similar."
"Erm… OK." James said, taking the heavy book from her hands. He opened it at the first chapter and began studying the pictures and labels and descriptions. '"I'm never learning all that."
"Yes, you are. I'm definitely not going to be wasting my time, so you better learn all this or I will get violent." She smirked lightly as his eyes widened at the memory of their first meeting. "Just what I thought."
"That's unfair, Castlewood." He moaned. Eleanor was now walking to the door. She pushed it open and was about to step out before she reconsidered. "Oh, and James? My name's Eleanor."
"Mum, Mum, I got an O!"
"James, it's way too early for you to shout like that." Ginny Weasley looked at her son, who was jumping up and down in his parents' bedroom, both still in bed, with a letter in his hand.
"Mum, my OWL results! I got straight Os except in Muggle Studies, where I got an A."
"Wait, even in Potions?" Harry asked, sitting up groggily.
"Even in freaking Potions, dad! I have to go see Ellie!" James was already running down the stairs to the living room. He grabbed a handful of Floo Powder, and stuffed some in his pocket for his way back, and yelled 'Castlewood Manor' in the fireplace. A second later, he landed in a beautiful Victorian living room, with cushioned silk sofas and elegant tapestries on the walls. He'd brought some soot along with him, which was now sprinkling the carpet, and cursed loudly.
"Who are you?" A stern and deep male voice asked him.
"I'm sorry, my name is James Potter. I'm here to see Eleanor?"
"What do you want with her?" He stepped forward, looking down on James from the top of his broad shoulders and six feet five inches.
"Father!" Eleanor's voice yelled behind the giant. "That's one of classmates!"
"Eleanor!" James sighed in relief.
"Hey there, James. What can I do for you?"
"I'm here to thank you."
"What for?" Eleanor was sensing yet another long speech about how brilliant she was for helping him with Potions that year, letting him become her partner and bearing with his oh-so-lame jokes.
"I got an O in Potions, and I couldn't have done it without you."
"James, that's great!" Eleanor reached forward and hugged him. It took James half a second to react before he hugged her back. "I'm so happy for you."
"I owe you so much."
"No you don't." She said kindly. "Perhaps I can offer you some tea?"
"Oh I don't want to impose." he said, realizing how poor and ridiculous he must have looked standing in a fancy living room in tattered jeans and Freaky Owelry T-Shirt.
"Please, do stay." A soft and melodious voice insisted. A woman, the exact portrait of Eleanor, only a bit older and with light brown hair instead of ginger, was standing in the doorway. "We'd love to meet one of Eleanor's classmates, wouldn't we, dear?" She asked her husband. Sir Castlewood huffed in response.
"That means yes." Eleanor translated. She pulled James to one of the sofas and soon the four of them were, or rather three because Sir Castlewood was not a very talkative man, were talking about magic and its world. Eleanor's father only became interested when James told him of his Aunt Hermione becoming Minister of Magic, and his father being the youngest Head Auror ever appointed.
"So your family is famous?" Mrs. Castlewood asked, sipping her tea.
"Yes, it is. The Weasleys have always been rather famous, everyone's heard that name, but now we're sort of heroes. It's a bit uncomfortable if you ask me. I don't do very well with fame."
"Doesn't look like it." Eleanor muttered.
"What's that, Ellie?" he asked. Her parents' eyes widened at the nickname.
"I said 'doesn't look like it'. You're one of the most popular guys in school!"
"Doesn't mean I like it. I can't do anything against greatness, though."
"Very funny." She spat, though her face showed how much she was actually enjoying this, as her parents looked at the two teens in disbelief. "So, James, are you staying in England this summer?"
"I might go to Romania visit my Uncle."
"The one who works with dragons?"
"Yes. But I really should be going, Ellie, Mrs. Castlewood, Sir Castlewood. It's been very nice."
"Oh… Well, if you want to stop by, just owl me, ok?" Eleanor said kindly, walking him over to the fireplace.
"You're most welcome here, James." Mrs. Castlewood said, even if Eleanor gave her the darkest look ever, worse even than when James had hit her team's Captain with a Bludger during their last Quidditch game.
"Thank you, Mrs. Castlewood. See you around, then, Ellie."
"Sure." She hugged him briefly, then pushed him lightly in the fireplace. James had the time to hear her shout at her parents, though he did not understand why. They had been quite civil, after all.
"That's impossible! I got a T in Potions!" James looked at his first NEWT level Potions test, lying hopelessly on his table. They had a new teacher that year, as Professor Aconit was growing in age and Headmistress McGonagall had thought it better to get a new teacher to help him. The latter, Professor Parkinson, was a right little cow in James's opinion. She'd been picking on him since their first class that year, and he was beginning to really hate her.
"Well, Mr. Potter, that's because fame doesn't get you everything."
"That's unfair, Professor." Eleanor spoke up from behind him. "I tutored james Potter myself last year and he's certainly not a Troll level student."
"Ms. Castlewood, please refrain from speaking out of place in class."
"But Professor…"
"I will take points away from Slytherin, Ms. Castlewood." James saw Eleanor purse her lips together, and clench her fists under the table. Parkinson kept walking around the class, handing the tests to her students with snide remarks and derogatory comments.
"I'm sorry, James. It sucks for you."
"Forget it, Ellie, she's a cow." he whispered back, leaning discretely back on his chair. "I'll make it up in no time. Though… Would you mind tutoring me again this year?"
"Sure!" She was only mouthing her words now. "Be my partner too? Everyone else sucks." James smiled broadly.
"Don't worry about it, I don't even know why we stopped sitting next to each other." he stood up, looked at the Slytherin boy sitting next to Eleanor, who scurried his stuff together and immediately vacated the seat. "Better?"
"Much."
"You're Head Boy?" Eleanor Castlewood opened the door of the Heads' compartment and smiled upon seeing James Sirius Potter sprawled on one of the couches, eating his way through a large stack of Chocolate Frogs.
"I am. Surprised?"
"A bit… Though, you are the second in our year."
"Yes, and I've got third place for most detentions ever, only surpassed by my grandfather and great-godfather." James popped a Chocolate Frog in his mouth as smugly as he could.
"You're terrible."
"Am not! McGonagall made me Quidditch Captain too…"
"Wait, really? I'm Captain too!"
"Gryffindor is so winning the Cup."
"No way! Slytherin is, and there is nothing you can do about that." She shoved him playfully, then sank into the couch next to him. "This was the worst summer ever." She moaned into his shoulder.
"Tell me."
"Ms. Castlewood, Mr. Potter, if you would follow me." Professor McGonagall stopped the two Head students on their rounds in search of lost little first years after the feast in the Great Hall.
"Oh, good evening, Professor."
"First of all, congratulations on making Head Boy and Head Girl. I believe I don't need to tell you about the incredible responsibility it represents. But, with duty also comes a certain privilege… You two have separated quarters, with dorms and a Common Room just to yourselves."
"For real?" James asked, then straightened up. "I mean, it's really cool."
"Yes, Mr. Potter, cool indeed." McGonagall said. She was leading them to the third floor, near the Hospital Wing. She stopped in front of a large painting of the two Orders of the Phoenix, old and new merged together.
"The password is yours to set… Have a pleasant evening."
"Thank you, Professor. You too." Eleanor whispered, still entranced by the meaningful portrait in front of her. At her side, James was breathing quickly, biting his lower lip nervously. "James." He took her hand.
"This is… Beautiful." He whispered, then hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad I don't have to fight anymore."
"Me too, James, me too."
James looked at the painting. "The password is Fawkes." The Dumbledore from the painting smiled softly,before the door swung open, revealing a cosy Common Room, decorated in all colors from Hogwarts's Houses in a strictly non-discriminatory way. What a perfect year it was going to be.
"James, I need to study, I really, really do. Please can you do rounds today?" Eleanor shouted from the bottom of his staircase.
James had been really odd for the past week, not talking to anybody, looking depressed and tired in a way that was very odd for him. Despite her efforts, Eleanor could not figure his problem out, and was beginning to worry about her friend in a way that certainly was odd considering he was just a friend. The fact that they had run into each other half naked in the bathroom in the middle of the night should, for instance, not be keeping her awake.
"James?" Eleanor called again. Since he was not answering, she climbed the small staircase to his room and pushed the door open. "James?"
He was fast asleep, his tie and shoes thrown on the ground near the bed, and his glasses crookedly falling off his nose. She laughed softly, before pulling the glasses off his nose, pulling his legs onto the bed properly and covering him with the ugly Gryffindor red covers. He was certainly not doing rounds in that state…
"Eleanor, it's the Christmas Annual, you are coming!"
"Mum, I just need to be on my own, please?"
"Eleanor, this is the kind of place where you meet nice and handsome lords and…"
"I don't care about nice handsome lords, mum. I care that my boyfriend cheated on me and that everyone knew including my best freaking friend and he didn't have the decency to tell me. I care that I'm all alone in that crazy school, with no one I can rely on, and when I come home I have to behave like a stupid lady whatever that I am not!" Eleanor was yelling at her mother, tears streaming down her face, her hair its natural and bushy length instead of the artificial straight locks she usually wore.
"I'm so sorry honey, I didn't know." Mrs. Castlewood sat on her daughter's bed and hugged her with all her might. "Why don't you talk to me, Eleanor?"
"Because you don't understand, mum. I'm a witch, I get into fistfights, stupid duels in the halls, detention, I've got the best marks in my year…. I'm everything I'm ever going to be and it's never enough for you to pay attention and actually look at me for the person I truly am, and it sucks! I hate it, so I'm not going to that stupid party."
"Eleanor… How can you say that?"
"It's true mum… No one pays attention to me… Seven years I've been in that school and no one even knows my hair is bushy and not straight! Because bushy is imperfect and no one needs to see past my perfect little image!" Eleanor sobbed into her mother's arms, tears she had not allowed herself to release for many, many years.
"Eleanor, I love you with all my heart, and so does your father, sure.y you must know. We never meant to hurt you."
"Oh like when James came over that day?"
"Darling, I…"
"Don't darling me, mum… It's true and you know it." mrs. Castlewood was speechless. "Go away so I can get ready."
"James, I know you're of age, but no magic tonight. This is an important Muggle reception, and Aunt Hermione really needs to settle this agreement with their Prime Minister."
"I know, dad." James muttered, staring out the window at the rain. It was one of those strange winters where the snow seemingly never came. Instead, it rained constantly, cold and heavy rain that soaked you to the bones.
"What's up with you, James?" Albus asked. "Isn't this the perfect opinion to meet some fancy Muggle girls?"
"Shut up, Al."
"No need to be rude, James." Ginny told her son. "Though what's wrong with you? You've been unusually gloomy since you got back from Hogwarts."
"Ellie's boyfriend cheated on her and James knew but he didn't tell her. So she's pissed at him and his heart is broken." Lily replied smugly.
"How do you know that?" James spat angrily.
"I might have been in your Common Room at that moment…"
"What?" Albus choked.
"It was a dare from Hugo. I'm sorry I overheard that argument though. It was funny to see you struggle. She hit you pretty nicely." James winced, feeling the bruises on his ribs and shin.
"Yes, well, she'll never forgive me now, and I'll fail Potions and suck at life."
"Is Potions really all you need her for?" Ginny asked knowingly.
"No… I need her for everything, mum, absolutely everything." Lily and Albus looked at each other uncomfortably. This was way worse than a simple crush they all knew had been there from that very first punch. It was love…
He should have known she would be there. A Muggle government hosted party, of course her father would be invited, and she would accompany him and her mother dressed in the most beautiful black dress ever seen, her hair elegantly tied in a most beautiful bun, and her eyes broken and sad.
He stared at her all through dinner, aware that she had not spotted him yet. He saw how she nibbled at her food without actually eating anything, how she laughed at the jokes without actually finding funny or amusing because he knew that when she was really laughing, her shoulders would shake and her hair would bounce off of them lightly. He knew her so well and he knew he should have told her but he was scared that exactly what was happening would happen. He was so stupid. Completely and hopelessly stupid.
"Albus? Rose? He heard her say when she ran into his brother and cousin. "What are you doing here?"
"Mum and Uncle Harry were invited, so we tagged along." Rose replied brightly.
"Nice. Is James here too, then?"
Albus examined her thoughtfully before replying. "Right over there, by the tables."
"Thanks, Albus. Have fun."
"You too."
She walked over to him, stopping from time to time to greet either an old man, or a young one who would try to make the conversation longer than it needed to be. She would shake them off quickly, though, and keep walking towards him rather resolutely.
She punched him. BAM. Straight in the face.
"Apologize."
"I'm so sorry, Ellie, you have no idea. I never meant to hurt you, I swear."
"I know, I'm not mad at you. I mean I am but no more than usual. It's Peter I'm mad at and I took it all out on you."
"I deserved it."
"Yeah, you're a pretty arrogant douche… Oh crap, let's get away!" She pulled him by the sleeve of his tuxedo.
"What is it?"
"Ugh, this dude I hate is coming out way. Move!" They pushed a door and fiund themselves outside in the rain. "Brilliant."
"What did he do to you?"
"Huh?"
"The guy we were running from."
"Oh he's a pompous and arrogant douche. I detest him."
"Didn't you just call me that?"
"You don't flirt with me all the time, do you?"
"Don't think so…" James blessed the darkness for hiding his blush
"Changes everything." They hid outside for a while, catching up on the excruciatingly long week during which they had barely spoken to each other, and eventually headed back inside. Eleanor's bun was destroyed, and so when she cast a drying spell on herself, her hair curled back up into its bushy unkemptness.
"Crap."
"So you do have curly hair." James said, reaching to touch her bouncy curls. "I knew it."
"You did?"
"Duh. I know you better than anyone."
BAM. She kissed him, in front of all those politicians and her parents and his parents and the Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic and what did it matter anyways? It was love.