Disclaimer: Why in the world would I own Harry Potter?

Chapter 6

Restarting Fourth Year

James was startled out of his thoughts by the sudden opening of the apartment door, which admitted Nevile Longbottom, his old faithful friend. He joined their conversation.

"Hi Neville."

"Hi Neville."

"Hello, I'm James Emerson. And you are?" James wanted to make a good impression and to win his friend back. Unfortunately his confident demeanor made Neville stutter.

"N-Nevile Longbottom, pleased to meet you. Ron did you see that Quidditch game at the world cup?" Ron started up again.

"Yeah! It was awesome! Krum got the snitch even though Ireland won the match! I wouldn't ever believed it if I had seen it with my own eyes!" Great. Neville warmed up to James nicely, while Ron kept his mouth going as background noise, Harry's mouth was still hanging open, and Hermione hiding behind her book, the Standard Book of Spells Grade 4. She must be still a bit ashamed of telling so much to a complete stranger, never mind how much he resembled Harry.

Neville was listening jealously to the others' conversation as they relived the Cup match.

"Gran didn't want to go," he said miserably. "Wouldn't buy tickets. It sounded amazing though."

"It was," said Ron. "Look at this, Neville…

He rummaged in his trunk up in the luggage rack and pulled out the miniature figure of Viktor Krum. James remembered the toy that Aden had dumped into the fireplace during his fourth year.

"Oh wow," said Neville enviously as Ron tipped Krum onto his pudgy hand.

"We saw him right up close, as well," said Ron. "We were in the Top Box -"

"For the first and last time in your life, Weasley."

As James expected for some time now, a few minutes before getting off the train, the compartment doors slid open again and enter Draco Malfoy and his bodyguards.

Crabbe and Goyle, smaller than James last seen them, stood imposingly side by side behind Draco. Evidently they had overheard the conversation through the compartment door, which earlier visitors, like Dean and Seamus had left ajar.

"Don't remember asking you to join us, Malfoy," said Harry coolly. It seems like he had recollected his wits. His jaw wasn't hanging open anymore, which probably was a good thing. Unfortunately, this just provoked Draco more, leading to an impending fight.

"Weasley… what is that?" looking for something to pick on, Malfoy pointed at Ron's trunk. A sleeve of Ron's dress robes was dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. James remembered it as the one Ron wore to the Yule Ball with Padma.

Ron made to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy was too quick for him; he seized the sleeve and pulled. James gritted his teeth and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, restraining him from charging up at Malfoy.

"Look at this!" said Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron's robes and showing Crabbe and Goyle. James wrinkled his nose in disgust. Surely this Malfoy wasn't that bad… "Weasley, you weren't thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean - they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety…"

"Eat dung, Malfoy!" said Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatched them back out of Malfoy's grip. Malfoy howled with derisive laughter; Crabbe and Goyle guffawed stupidly. James could see that Hermione had her wand poking underneath her book, and Harry's hand was in his pocket. Were they going to fight?

"Calm down guys… he's not worth it." Malfoy tried a different approach.

"So… going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There's money involved as well, you know… you'd be able to afford some decent robes if you won…" So it seems like Malfoy's father had told him about the Tourney, or he just read the newspaper.

"What are you talking about?" snapped Ron. James rolled his eyes exasperatedly at his effective interrogation tactics.

"Are you going to enter?" Malfoy repeated. "I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?"

"Either explain what you're on about or go away, Malfoy," said Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4. A gleeful smile spread across Malfoy's pale face

"Don't tell me you don't know?" he said delightedly. "You've got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don't even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago… heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father's always associated with the top people at the Ministry… Maybe your father's too junior to know about it, Weasley… yes… they probably don't talk about important stuff in front of him…"

James decided this was the time to butt in.

"No. Your father just disrespects his superiors when he blurts out a secret when he returns home." He probably was also behind the leak of who told the reporters about confidential information. Draco turned his head to him.

"So, have you added another muggle-lover to your merry band of hooligans, Potter?" Hermione lowered her book. There was definitely a fight coming on. James could feel it in the atmosphere.

"Piss off, Malfoy." Ron snarled. Oh dear. Malfoy sneered and got out his wand. Crabbe and Goyle did likewise. Harry pointed his wand as did Hermione, and Ron followed. What was he gonna do?

"Nah. My father taught me some more interesting curses over summer. You can be our test subjects!" James retorted back.

"When your 'father hears' that you're attacking Harry Potter, one of the most famous people in the Wizarding World, his political career in the Ministry would be over because of your suicidal tendencies." Malfoy's sneer faltered a bit, but it was there nevertheless. He didn't lower his wand either.

"Well we'll see." Their lips were already forming the words of different curses. James made his move then. Faster than the others, there was a blinding light as the three troublemakers were thrown back, as well as the Golden trio in the compartment.

"Expelliarmus!"

The windows shattered from the spell, and all the wands, excluding Neville and James, were thrown into his outstretched hand. Malfoy was on the floor, crumpled in an unpureblood-like posture, while Crabbe and Goyle forced onto their butts. James lowered his wand slowly and turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. Ron was squinting, the light of the spell affecting him most, while Harry was examining him, looking like he was reevaluating him. Hermione was staring at him with wide eyes. Ron recovered and saw Malfoy and his bodyguards sprawled in compromising positions.

"Bloody hell, mate! That's awesome! You did that?"

"Ron!" said Hermione reproachfully, and she pulled out her wand, muttered "Reparo!" and the glass shards flew back into a single pane and back into the door. "How did you do that, James? That was really well done…" She stopped, embarrassed. James looked so much like Harry and fit so well in their group that they forgot that they just met him!

"My tutors taught me lots of Defensive Magic, and I did it to be able to protect myself." Malfoy was groaning and just getting back up, eyeing him warily. He tossed their wands back to him.

"Get out of here Malfoy, unless you want more." James warned. Harry held out his hand for his own wand, but James had some words to say first. "You three shouldn't be so eager to fight with him. You should try to use words to defuse the situation."

He tossed the wand back to them. He sat down again, and there was silence. Neville scurried out of the compartment. He sighed. He never wanted his first impression to go like this!

Their quiet mood continued for the rest of the journey. They didn't talk much as they changed into their school robes, and were still not talking when the Hogwarts Express slowed down at last and finally stopped in the pitch-darkness of Hogsmeade station.

As the train doors opened, there was a rumble of thunder overhead. Hermione bundled up Crookshanks in her cloak and Ron left his dress robes over Pigwidgeon as they left the train, heads bent and eyes narrowed against the downpour. The rain was now coming down so thick and fast that it was as though buckets of ice-cold water were being emptied repeatedly over their heads.

They jumped onto the threstral-pulled carriages, and were pulled, raining and shivering through the front gates, and right to the Hogwart's Great Hall. There, Peeves was causing havoc, throwing water balloons everywhere. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall interfered like last time, and Peeves rushed off, madly cackling. Minerva gave a slight nod and smiled at the five, before rushing off to supervise the drying of the entrance hall. Colin Creezey rushed up to James, mistaking him for Harry.

"HiyaHarry!"

It was Colin Creevey, a third year to whom Harry was something of a hero. James looked at him awkwardly.

"Er, hello?" said James warily.

"Harryguesswhat? GuesswhatHarry? Mybrother'sstarting! MybrotherDennis!" He said that all in a few seconds.

"Er - good, but I'm not Harry Potter. James Emerson, pleased to meet you, and I have no idea what you're talking about." said James. Colin's face turned into one of confusion, before noticing who was standing beside James. He was quite amused at the boy's fast-talk.

"Oh, oh-sorry! I'm Colin Creevey! Hi Harry! Did you see my brother Dennis? He's really excited! I just hope he's in Gryffindor! Keep your fingers crossed, eh, Harry?" Harry beside James nodded dumbly.

They went and sat down on the Gryffindor table, the Golden Trio introducing James to their many acquaintances. Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was still fighting his way across the lake with the first years; Professor McGonagall was outside, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Hermione, who was also looking up at the teachers.

"Obviously Dumbledore found someone this year." James said.

"Who do you think it is?"

"I read from the newspaper that it's the retired auror Mad-eye Moody."

"Moody?" Harry asked Ron. "Mad-Eye Moody? The one your dad went to help this morning?"

"Must be," said Ron.

But James wasn't paying attention to their conversations or the thunderclouds hovering over the school. He was paying close attention to the Headmaster. Albus Dumbledore's sweeping silver hair and beard shone in the candlelight, his deep green robes embroidered with many stars and moons. The tips of the Supreme Mugwump's long, thin fingers were together and he was resting his chin upon them, lips curling down in a slight frowning at the Gryffindor table, and particularly James and Harry.

James had a feeling he knew what the old man was thinking about.

Headmaster Dumbledore was in a bad mood. Of course, that was on the inside, and no children ever saw anything other than his cheery face.

This morning he had compiled up all the expenses for this year's Tri-wizard tourney with his magical calculator. Useful things, those toys. It amounted to about 100,000 galleons. So he prepared to pay them off using Helga Hufflepuff's Vault, the only Founder's Vault open to the Headmaster.

The Headmaster had the chance to access but not claim all of the Founder's Vaults, but Albus had never passed the tests of the other three.

Slytherin's Test consisted of a heritage test and a statue that will only move apart when the person can speak in Parseltounge (No imperiused snakes allowed). Then a portrait of Salazar Slytherin would examine you personally, and you have to convince him to let you access the vault. Albus failed the second task, the statue.

Gryffindor's Test consisted of trapping you in a holding room of mirrors with a boggart, which normal ways to destroy it didn't work. It also featured a charmed and animated Lion head on one end of a hall, in which you must jump into its mouth to reach a key, which would be used to unlock the door to the vault. Dumbledore failed the first one, after seeing his sister's tortured face too many times, and broke down.

Ravenclaw's Test was only facing the portrait of the woman, who then proceeded to legilimens you, and after seeing your mind, she decided whether you were worthy to pass or to fail. Dumbledore failed after resisting the mind-reading attempt, and willingly gave up on it. No one was ever getting inside his mind!

Hufflepuff's Test was made up of two things; a modified type of the Mirror of Erised, and her portrait. Her picture would be able to see what you saw in the mirror, and after talking to you for some time, she would ascertain your aims and goals, and then judge. Dumbledore's heart was in the right place, being loyal to the Wizarding World and his family, and his aims to help the magic users pure.

So he had been using the vault for sometime, and siphoned gold from it when needed.

To his shock, the Vault had been claimed, presumably by someone of her bloodline. There were only two people in England that had her blood, and both were inside his castle. Zacharias Smith, the descendant of the late poor Hepzibah Smith, who had been one of the victims Tom used for his horcruxes, or Harry Potter, through a squib line passed through his grandmother.

Dumbledore had then searched for another vault in his possession to pay off his debts, so he searched for the Potter Trust Vault, one of the biggest ones he had by proxy, but when he looked for his corrupted bank manager and clerk, he was promptly informed that one of them was beheaded, and another in a prison cave, ready for interrogation. His Potter key to the vaults was outdated, as a new design of the key was made for Harry's trust vault, and the owner denied him access.

When he had protested that he was the Magical Guardian of Harry Potter, and therefore able to access his vault, the new goblin, some nasty fellow named Griphook said that Lord Potter had already claimed his Head of House and Lordship rings, and was therefore emancipated.

Dumbledore had been beyond afraid. Had Harry already awakened to his meddling? Was he already shredding his reputation and stomping on his plans with his newly found status?

A visit to the Potter Manor also concerned him. The wards were stranger than ever, and were buzzing with energy. The house-elves were inside working again, but he couldn't get close enough to question them for the wards rejected him.

Dumbledore was forced to pay the fee off onto his own vault, cursing the person who had done this all the while.

But Dumbledore knew that it wasn't Harry. He wouldn't, shouldn't have the capabilities to know and do that. And he had made sure of that with his Legilimency. After delving deep into Harry's mind when he made contact with him coming into the Great Hall, he was sure that Harry didn't claim the vault.

So the question was who did?

When pondering in thought, he missed or completely ignored the strange newcomer sitting by Harry Potter.

Author's Notes: Review for any good ideas or pairings. I would love advice and encouragement.

Criticism is appreciated!

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