And now, for the start of book dos, the Chamber of Secrets(WOO...) The last story was a bit of a disappointment to me, so I'm going to follow the book a little more on this one, while adding my own scenes where it merits more often. There's going to be less dialogue, more description, and more depth. Brian is going to play the guitar more often. Master Solo is going to kill some Sith more often. James is going to antagonize Ginny Weasley more often. Travis will work out more of- okay, you get the picture, this ones gonna be better.
Recommended Listening: Welcome to Paradise
Artist: Green Day
Album: Dookie
The sneak peek premiered under a Green Day song, so why not have this one do so, as well?
Disclaimer: This disclaimer is universal, meaning that I'm writing it once, right here, it encompasses everything in this story. Any and all characters, plot, music, or the like do not belong to me, but their respective owners, and are copyrighted, trademarked, and all that jazz to them and them only. I'm not making money on this stuff, but they are. ;)
...James...
The green fields of grass were dotted in beautiful colors of blue, red, yellow, violet and white. The wind rustled the blades and flowers like a father rustling his child's hair, lovingly and easy going. James smiled as the cool breeze did the same to his own hair.
The girl danced in the field, right before his eyes. Her hazel eyes glittered in the sunlight as her copper hair whirled around her head, a breathtaking ginger crown. Her sundress fluttered around her knees in a cream colored curtain. She laughed and pranced and skipped across the ground barefoot, her feet never crushing a single plant. Her grace amazed James and made him feel as if he was in the presence of an angel.
He could almost taste her lips, vanilla and the tangy hint of orange. He could feel her warmth as if she was hugging him. He could hear her giggling laugh, and see her dimples as she smiled. But something was off; some form of sense was missing. What was he missing?
James snapped awake with a sudden rush of...
"Ugh! Travis, you're feet stink! Curse you! Curse you and your late night sweaty runs!"
James' best friend and surrogate brother muttered something about stress, and rolled over inside his half of the tiny cupboard. James shook his head and cursed again. Travis Jermaine Barker loved his exercise, but at the expense of personal hygiene, it didn't seem worth the pain to James. Especially since their "guest bedroom" at the Dursleys consisted of an eight-by-eight cupboard beneath the stairs. What a way to spend his twelfth birthday!
James sighed as he sat over the edge of his side of the cot. Rubbing his face with his palms, he tried in vain to clear the sleep from his eyes. He had had another weird dream, but yet again couldn't remember it. Like the last ones, he could remember the emotions that were attached to it, but the dream itself was a mystery to his mind. Happiness, content, cheer… what was he doing that made him so giddy?
Throwing it out of his mind, James stood. He immediately bumped his head against the short part of the cupboard, and once again questioned why he and Travis had to share a tea cupboard, while Harry and Brian got the junk filled spare bedroom. He stepped the half of a step distance between his and Travis' cot to the door, and looked at the makeshift calendar he and Travis had assembled from Chinese markers, crumbled notebook paper, and sticky notes. Two weeks. Two weeks and he and his brothers would be back at Potter Manor, having house elves and their butler prepare their every meal and clean after them, for them.Vacation. Vacation James' eye. His mother and father wouldn't just leave without telling them weeks ahead of time, or without actually taking them with. James knew his dad wouldn't even take vacation from work without making sure he got time to spend with his kids. James Ignotus Potter was anything but an inconsiderate dad, and worked hard to keep it that way. Dumbledore sent them to Japan for something; James just didn't have any idea what for.
Hello Kitty Merchandise? I'm sure that would scare the hell outta Voldemort.
Anime comic books? Amusing, but wildly over the top, even for Dumbledore.
World War Two sightseeing? Doubtful. Voldemort wouldn't employ tactics that any muggle general could combat.
No, he sent them for magical reasons, and James knew it. But what was there, other than the world's largest export of weird?
Sighing, James gave up. Taking the grease pen and drawing an "X" over July thirty-first, he cursed how badly his birthday was already going. He dropped the pen and tried the door handle. It didn't move. Uncle Vernon must have locked it again, having "forgotten about their little guests." Or maybe Dudley just thought it would be funny. Either way, James decided that he did not want to spend his morning waiting for Aunt Petunia to open the door for them and order him into the kitchen to make crepes.
Stepping back, James reared his right leg up and kicked the door open. With a less than dramatic crash, the door flew open. Travis sprang awake and fell off the other side of the cot. James shook his head and walked out, muttering "Get up!" along the way.
James stumbled into the kitchen and immediately wished he had stayed in bed. It appeared that Aunt Petunia had decided to make breakfast this morning, but her above par cooking didn't stop Uncle Vernon from being in a bad mood.
"This is the third time this week!" Uncle Vernon roared as he savagely cut at his sausage. It always amused James how he could multitask eating with his violent, angry rampages. "Either shut those ruddy owls up or they will have to go!"
James snorted. "As if they are doing us any good. They aren't even allowed to go out."
"That's exactly what I have been trying to tell him," Harry pointed out as James sat down. "Hedwig and Wabbajack and Cobain and Griffin are bored. If they could just exercise-"
Harry was James' twin, and they looked barely anything alike. Whereas Harry was short, had black hair, their mother's eyes, and a lightning bolt scar, James was even shorter, had their mother's dark red hair and those same brilliant green eyes. The only scar he had was the crescent shaped one on his shoulder, where he had received a compound fracture when he was six and had to go to the hospital to have surgery done to fix the shattered humerus sticking out from his skin.
"I'm not that ruddy stupid!"
Could have fooled me, James thought to himself as he sat down.
"If I let them out, you'll be able to talk to your freaky little mates."
Vernon and Petunia shot dirty, dark looks at each other as their fat and ogreish son Dudley shoveled scrambled eggs into his eager big mouth. The very sight of it made James want to dry heave. Harry, meanwhile, had continued to try and argue with their demonic uncle but his words were blown away by a loud and thunderous belch that erupted from Dudley's belly and cascaded out of his wide and disgusting mouth.
James fell off his chair. He was laughing so hard he convulsed and slammed his head on the leg of the table, but couldn't help but keep laughing until Aunt Petunia swatted him with a spatula.
Harry's rebuttal was again interrupted when two sudden appearances froze the room. "What the hell just happened?" Travis and Brian asked in chorus, wide looks on their faces and fear in their eyes.
"Dudley belched, and Indonesia went that way," James answered, pointing out the dining room window.
"And watch your language in a hosts home," Petunia sneered as she stingily placed half a piece of bacon and a few scraps of egg on three plates.
The two sat and munched on their overcooked bacon. James nodded at Brian, his other best friend and surrogate brother. His angular face had lost some of its baby fat, but his dark eyes still held a hollowed look. His dark, almost black hair didn't help dissolve the image of emotional blankness. He grinned and nodded back at James, a smirk that never looked quite right on his pale face.
Giving up all hope that he could persuade Uncle Vernon, Harry lowered his head and finished his meager breakfast. James and the other two followed, munching slowly and waiting to be excused. If they left without explicit permission, Uncle Vernon would yell more, and then James would never get to enjoy any part of his and Harry's shared birthday.
"I want more bacon," Dudley grunted piggishly.
"There's more in the pan, sweetums," Petunia crooned. "We must build you up while we have the chance. I don't like the sound of that Smeltings food."
"Nonsense, Petunia" Vernon heartily boasted. "I never went unsatisfied when I went to Smeltings. You get enough to eat there, don't you boy?"
Dudley ignored his father and stared pompously at Harry. "Pass the pan."
Harry glared back and sneered. "You forgot the magic word."
James' hopes of getting out after breakfast disappeared in midair the instant his brother said those five words. Harry just had to be smart.
The Dursleys erupted. Dudley, who had just been put in the know of the Potter's "Family Inheritance" screamed like a girl in fear and ducked under the table. Petunia gasped and ran from the kitchen, hands over her mouth to keep from screaming. Vernon stood up and very threateningly waved a finger at the four of them.
"I meant please!"
"Yes," James muttered, bored. "He meant please."
"What have I told you about that word, boy?! The four of you came here knowing your freak show acts were banned!"
"I didn't do anything! I asked him to say please!"
"Please don't tell the silly muggles how to raise their incompetent children, Harry" James monotonously commanded. "You know they can't handle much of anything, much less criticism."
"And you!" Vernon turned to James. James looked up and shot his eyebrows up.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon?"
"I will have no more of your lip!"
"You aren't getting any of my lip, sir."
"I bloody well better not be!"
"You have enough lip of your own, if I may so, Uncle Vernon. Anymore of mine would just make your face seem odd."
This made Dudley's head bang against the underside of the table, so shocked was he. Brian and Travis fell back off their chairs, clattering to the floor in fits of laughter.
Vernon's face went from its typical puce-angry color to an as yet unseen angry black color. James nonchalantly looked back at his uncle, as if he was talking about the last London Irish game.
"Boy-"
"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon," James droned. "It won't happen again."
"It better not," Vernon muttered, as if realizing something. "You should be gracious I even accept you in my home, little freaks."
Petunia came simpering back inside the kitchen. With a nervous look between her husband and nephew, she sat down at the table. It seemed like Vernon had decided to act as though any disagreement had never happened. His wife and son followed his lead, looking muted but hateful.
James knew why he was dropping the matter. Even though James Sr. and Lily both explained that the four were never allowed to do magic out of school, as it was illegal to do so until they came of age, Vernon knew James. Knew that he was a rule-breaker, and that he very rarely respected boundaries. He knew that James also had morals and that if they got stepped on…
James ceased his line of thought. Two weeks from now, he'd be back in his familiar town of East Cowes, sunning it up on the beach and watching pretty tourist girls walk around the beach in bathing suits. Maybe there'd be a few American's there, and he and Brian and Travis would strike up a game of beach football, or volleyball, or maybe even baseball. James, Harry, Brian, and Travis all lowered their heads, shut their mouths, and ate their paltry morning meals, all wishing to be somewhere else.
It would have been better if he had allowed their stuff to be out. James had a four-foot long Transfiguration essay due, and Potions to study on. Brian wanted to have his guitar out to play, and practice for his Music Club goings-on. Travis couldn't workout properly, because all of his weightlifting gear was in his trunk. Harry and James both needed to practice flying, in order to stay on their house quidditch teams. But what did Aunt and Uncle Dursley care? To them, they were just a bunch of circus sideshow freaks, who belonged at an institutionalized school for criminally insane children.
The Potters and the Dursleys, though related, were nothing alike. James and Lily were open-minded and carefree with James, Harry, Travis and Brian. They were tough when they needed to be, fair, and loving without actually spoiling them. The Dursleys treated Dudley like he was God's gift to the Earth, and presented him to everyone as such. They were paranoid and unhappy, always fearful of those who were even remotely different to themselves. It made James sick.
The only reason James and his brothers were even near them at all was because of their mother. Petunia was the older sister of Lily, and Lily loved her. James didn't know how or why his mother could love such a troll. She looked like a horse, acted like a horse, and emulated a horse with her skittish manner. The greater mystery, though, was how Aunt Petunia could love, or even consider having a family with the man widely known as Vernon Dursley, whose closest friends all called him "Satan."
Vernon was a walking tub of butter, soft and jiggly and fat. His obesity went so far as to negate any neck he had by means of bacon, double-buttered toast, and extra helpings of treacle tart. He was foul-mannered to those he felt were below him, and oily and falsely polite to those he wanted to be above. If James loathed his aunt, then he despised his uncle.
James was below him, at least by Vernon's standards, and as such, was nothing. He was a varmit* with a genetic defect that could make him superior, and as such should be treated like trash. James failed to see Vernon's logic, because if James had a possibility of being over him, shouldn't he try being nice? Didn't that just make sense? If Vernon was so concerned about James becoming a riff raff serial killer, shouldn't he be trying not to get on his "To Do List" and instead try his best not to encourage it?
The troll couldn't even remember James and Harry's birthday, not that he cared.
Vernon cleared his throat in a hacky way, trying to sound important. "Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."
James, Harry, Travis and Brian all looked up in unison, barely daring to believe what they were hearing.
"Today could very well be the day I make the greatest deal of my career."
The four dropped their heads and got back to their scraps of egg. Of course Vernon wouldn't be talking about them. Since when were they important? Since when did he celebrate any birthday that wasn't his own or his son's? Not even Aunt Petunia got any recognition. And for that, James actually felt sorry for her.
"We should all be in position by eight o'clock. Petunia, you will be-?"
"In the lounge," Petunia said fancily, putting a hand to her over-long neck in a manner that was supposed to be graceful, but ended up looking ridiculous. "Waiting to welcome them graciously in our perfectly normal-" she shot a look at Brian and Travis- "Home."
"Precisely," Vernon boomed happily, his voice almost shaking the table. "And Dudley?"
"I'll be waiting to open the door," Dudley said proudly, as if he was about to do something important. With a foul, simpering grin, he uttered, "'May I take your coats, Mr. and Mrs. Mason?'"
Travis choked on his last small bite of bacon and his last gulp of orange juice. Brian slapped him on the back, and snorted, trying to keep from laughing. Petunia, however, had a different reaction.
"They'll love him!" she gushed joyfully.
They'll love making fun of him as soon as they leave, James thought ruefully.
"Excellent, Dudders," Vernon said, ignoring the four Potters' reactions. He rounded on them and stared crazily at them. "And you four?"
"We'll be in the spare bedroom, doors locked, pretending we don't exist," they chorused monotonously.
"Exactly," Vernon hissed nastily. "I will lead them into the lounge, introduce them to you, Petunia, and pour the drinks. At eight-fifteen-"
"I'll announce dinner," Petunia said.
"And Dudley, you'll ask…?"
"May I take to the table, Mrs. Mason?'" Dudley offered his grotesquely fat arm to an invisible woman.
"My perfect little gentleman!"
James and Harry both snorted. James wondered where the popcorn vender was; this was quite the entertaining show.
It was too much for Travis and Aunt Petunia, though. Petunia actually burst into tears and jumped up to hug her porky son. Travis, on the other hand, had to duck under the table to keep the Dursleys from seeing him as he busted into fits of hysterical laughter.
"And you four?" Vernon asked again.
"We'll be in the spare bedroom, doors locked, pretending we don't exist," Harry, James and Brian chorused, trying to keep straight faces themselves.
"Too right, you will," Vernon said gruffly. "The Masons don't even know you exist, and I plan on keeping it that way. Now, when dinner's over and your pudding has been finished, you take Mrs. Mason to the lounge for coffee. I'll bring the conversation over to drills, and with a little luck, by this time tomorrow we'll be shopping for a vacation home in Majorca.
"What's a Majorca?" Dudley asked stupidly.
"A city in Spain," Brian and James answered.
"Hush, you two," Petunia scolded, as if they had insulted him. "Little Diddykins could have figured that out himself.
As if.
"Right. Now, I'm off to pick up the dinner jackets for myself and Dudley to wear this evening. And you four stay out of your aunt's way as she cleans."
"Gladly."
The hot summer air hit James and Harry like a ton of bricks as soon as they walked out the front door of Number 4, Privet Drive.
"I freaking hate this, man," James complained.
"Me too," Harry agreed.
The two brothers walked down the short driveway and began their trek towards the park. James pulled out his cassette player and turned the volume up. The heavy, rhythmic bass beats of Cliff Burton's guitar met Harry's ears with a kick. That was something he had learned about his formerly estranged twin; when he was down, he listened to loud and proud metal music.
Harry had been learning quite a bit about his twin James Dean since he had first met him back in September of 1988. Every day he was learning something new and shocking about him, while James seemed to have Harry read like the back of his hand. He hadn't even known that he could speak a limited amount of Spanish until last Christmas.
"Where are Travis and Brian?" Harry asked loudly enough to get his twin's attention.
"Huh?" James tugged the headphones off.
"Where are the other two?"
"They said they'll meet us in the park. They wouldn't say where they were going, but that they would meet us in the park."
"Oh. Think it has something to do with today?"
James snorted. "I hope not. Last thing I need is those two throwing us a surprise birthday party in a park full of strangers. British strangers, at that."
Another thing Harry had learned about his brother; he didn't endear himself to his home culture of England. James was so enamored with his American upbringing that he found it very hard to relate to the people in Britain. Because of this, James often avoided the gatherings and goings on back home on the Isle of Wight and at Hogwarts; quidditch being the rare exception.
They walked into the park and went straight to the oak tree in the center; the designated meeting place. James checked his watch and sighed in exasperation; they themselves were ten minutes late.
"Where in hell are they?"
"The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower," the pastor preached from his Bible.
Brian yawned.
"Dude, why are we here?" he whispered to his best friend, Travis. He shushed Brian without taking his eyes off of the Father. He was leaned back in his pew, with his arms spread to either side of him on the back of the pew as one of his legs was curled underneath of him.
"Dude, quit acting like Jimmy Dean," Brian quipped. Travis ignored him.
"These words are just one phrase among many that show God's love for his very creation. Strength is an almost flexible term. Some of us are strong with muscles and athletic ability; others are strong in will, in spirit. God gives us strength in many different forms, so that we are equipped to handle the problems that come our way. He gives us strength so that we can get through his trials."
"If God gave us the strength to handle all our problems on our own, why did he send Jesus then?" Travis asked loudly and suddenly. The entire church turned to regard Brian and Travis with shock and distaste. How dare he question the Pastor?
The Father, however, looked shockingly impressed.
"Dude, what do you think you are-"
"It's my party, I'll cry if I wanna," Travis cut off Brian and looked to the pastor challengingly.
"That is a good question. Why did God send us his one and only begotten Son if we already had the tools to save ourselves? The answer, my child, is that even though we all have the strength to pass our tests, not everyone has the knowledge or the ambition to do so. Jesus came so that all of those lost souls would be able to find their way to the greener pastures. He came to save us."
'So in essence, we don't need strength. We are already saved."
"No. Jesus cannot save those who do not believe he exists, or those who turn him away."
"So by simply having faith, and accepting Jesus as your savior, will get somebody a one-way ticket to the pearly gates?"
"Well, yes."
"You don't sound convinced, Father."
"I know the word of God, my son."
"And yet the word of God has changed drastically over the years by corrupt church officials and governmental bureaucrats who sought to bring themselves power by taking advantage of an uneducated, religiously based population."
"You are highly educated for one so young… I take it you grew up in America, judging by your accent?"
"Yeah."
"I take it you are a Catholic, as well."
"Dude, how did he guess that?" Brian whispered.
"Dunno," Travis answered. He regarded the pastor again. "Yeah."
"Then you believe that you aren't given your place in Heaven. You have to earn it."
"That was the general idea, yes."
"So now it's my turn to ask you a question?"
"You just did."
A universal chuckle arose from the congregation. The Father himself chuckled, and shook his head. "Let's say you grew up all alone, you raised yourself out in some wild and open jungle. You would have no knowledge in Christ, am I correct?"
"Yeah…"
"So when you come back into society, you will be remarkably different than everyone around you. You would live a life based on logic and reasoning, sharpened by the life lived based on survival, rather than living a full life."
"Yeah, that sounds about right."
"Well, that's a problem, ain't it? I mean, having a logical frame of mind is not bad, but I have learned one thing about people who live by logic and reasoning alone- they are selfish. That's because their logic is telling them what's best for them, and not for their neighbors or their world as a whole. Do you understand?"
"I hear ya," Travis affirmed. He was looking at the Crucifix around the Pastor's neck while paying half an ear to what the man was saying.
"Now ask that wild boy to come to church, and submit his life to Jesus. That's bound to be a problem for him."
"Yeah, it is…" Travis brought his eyes back up to the Father's, and found him smiling. It kinda gave Travis the creeps.
"That wild boy is each of us before we all find the glory of God. It is difficult for us to admit there is something bigger than us, and a difficult challenge for all of us to overcome. But that is a strength that God has given us; humility. It takes a truly strong person to admit they are not the top mate on the food chain. That, in my eyes, is all the payment you need to earn your place with Our Lord. Do you see?"
"Yeah, I- yeah."
The pastor grinned and held his hands up high and began a prayer.
"Dude, you shoulda just kept your trap shut," whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
"That was worth it. Trust me."
…
"Boys, may I have a word?" The pastor asked as the sermon ended. They were on the front steps of the church and the park was in sight.
Brian shrugged as Travis nodded. The Father smiled and motioned to the steps, taking a seat himself. The two followed his example.
"I would like to apologize about the reception your argument got with the rest of the congregation. I find that most of my adult patrons, especially the senior citizens, are slow to question anything. So worried about the afterlife are they that they eat my words as if it were the absolute truth, and never do they stop to try and figure it out themselves. I would like to thank you for bringing your questions up this morning."
"Uh, no prob."
The pastor laughed. "It's refreshing to have someone actually try to figure out the word of God rather than just taking it for what it is. I'd like you to have this," the man pulled the crucifix from his neck and folded it into Travis' hands. "It has seen me through a lot of bad days. I pray it does to you to. Now, I must go, God Bless you two."
Travis looked at Brian and popped the cross in the air, while pulling out a bag of sweets and a Pride of Portree t-shirt. "Happy Birthday, Harry and Jimmy Dean."
Harry sat at the base of the tree while James had climbed up and was perched on a branch near the top, staring down at the bushes lining the jogging lane from the rest of the park. Metallica's Master of Puppets album thundered in his ears as he reminisced about the year before. Many a mishap had happened, and not all of it was at all bad. Harry had saved the Philosopher's Stone. Both of them had made their House Quidditch teams, and had unintentionally made some very good friends.
Friends, James snorted. What good where Ron, Hermione and Emma if they had not written, much less written back? James and Harry couldn't send letters out because Uncle Vernon had locked their wands and everything else magical up in a cupboard and threw away the key. But still, they themselves could have written…
James squashed that line of thought. He didn't need to be thinking that stuff, especially not on is twelfth birthday. James grunted and looked down at Harry, who was staring wistfully at a group of kids who looked to be around their age.
"Why don't you go join 'em?"
Harry looked up at James. "We wouldn't exactly fit in, would we? I mean, we are rather different from them."
James nodded and shrugged. "Just act cool and play along. Act like you know what they are talking about."
"James, aren't you at all disturbed to know Voldemort is alive?"
That shocked James; he hadn't expected that question. He stared down at the bushes and thought, Wait, why the heck were they staring back!?
So shocked to see a set of bulging green eyes staring out from the bushes was James that he fell. "Wah!"
"You saw them too?" Harry queried as he jumped at the bushes, trying to see who was spying on them. "There's no one here…"
"Well, gee, my twin baby brother! Thanks for your concern," James grunted as he lifted himself from the grass, holding his right arm. He didn't know what the thing that was staring at him through the shrubberies was, but it definitely was not of the muggle world…
