James stared at his new mates in silence. You could have heard a penny drop until...
James burst out in laughter.
"That's rich!" He gasped out between laughs, clutching his side in pain. He leaned back on the edge of his bed, managing to tip himself over in a fit of giggles. "Oh wow, you lot really know how to pull someone's wand."
But after a few more minutes of nonstop hysterics, James finally realized that he was indeed the only one who had been laughing.
"We're not joking, James." Logan told him seriously, his eyes looking down at his new mate with slight concern.
Glancing about the bewildered looks of his fellow first years, James finally stopped laughing enough to shoot them all a doubtful look.
"You mean to tell me that my dad, a man who can't even keep track of his own socks, is some war hero?" The eleven year old chuckled at the thought. "You're all bloody mad."
"We're serious James!" Thomas piped up, blonde curled swaying as he popped up onto James' bed. "Harry Potter saved the world after his defeat of you-know-who!"
"Look mate, I'm sorry, but this is all complete bullocks." James responded, throwing his hands in the air. "I mean sure. I guess dad's job is pretty cool and all, and he knows some bloody amazing Quidditch players, but that's the end of it. None of this you-know-what's-it stuff."
"But-"
"No." He cut in, setting his wand on his nightstand. "Now that's enough of that. It's our first night in Hogwart's. Let's enjoy it, yeah?"
So after his insistence, James managed to hush up any further talk about his father. Instead, they chose to play a couple rounds of exploding snap.
James was pleasantly surprised that they were harder opponents than Albus, who was usually subjected to the game whenever his older brother demanded so. It wasn't long before the night grew long and the boys found themselves tucking in for bed.
James pulled the Gryffindor Red covers up to his chin, practically smothering himself with them to verify that he really was in the house of the lions.
All the things his fellow first years had said about his dad couldn't be true. At least, that was the last thought running through his head before he too succumbed to sleep.
Dear Mum & Dad,
Hogwarts is bloody amazing! I can't believe you didn't tell me about it sooner! We arrived by boats and the castle is huge and there's a talking hat and the Great Hall has no ceiling! Seriously, what happens when it rains?
Anyway, yours truly got himself into GRYFFINDOR! Where the brave dwell at heart! I told you I would get sorted there! And I have a new mate named Dean Spinnet. He says his aunt used to play Quidditch with you both. He got into Griffindor too, of course. We both want to try out for the team.
Unfortunately, Roxy...well, she sort of kind of got sorted into Hufflepuff. But that's a mistake right? Roxy is the bravest out of all of us, aside from me of course. And we've been planning all our adventures all summer!
That's not the only strange thing going on. My roommates said dad is some kind of war hero. Mad right? They kept saying all this "chosen one" stuff. It's obviously bullocks right?
Hope you lot are doing well,
James Potter
Reviewing his letter once more, James nodded and dipped the quill back in the ink well before tucking the note into an envelope.
"Alright, which of you are the fastest?" He called out to the three owls available in the owl post.
A rather large brown owl let out an ear piercing screech, flapping his wings against the other two. The eleven year old winced at the noise before quickly fastening the letter to the owl's outstretched leg.
"Jeez, so loud. Bring this to Harry and Ginny Potter please."
After the owl swooped out the window, James glanced back at the clock and cursed. He was late to breakfast.
Snatching his book back, the first year dashed down the stairs, determined not to miss out on his first ever Hogwarts breakfast.
In fact, he was running so fast that he didn't even notice the puff of white smoke until he had already gone straight through it.
"Ugh." He groaned, shaking himself off from what seemed to look like flour.
"Well I do beg your pardon!" Came a voice behind him. Turning around, James gasped at the translucent figure of what looked to be a portly man.
"Whoa. You're a real live ghost!" He stated pointing at him as if to accuse the ghost otherwise.
"Well, I wouldn't quick say live, now would I?" The ghost chuckled. "They call me the Fat Friar." The first year sniggered.
"Well you said it, not me." James grinned, before introducing himself. "They call me James Potter."
"Great Scott, indeed you are!" The ghost gasped. "You look every bit as much as your father! I-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm practically Harry Potter 2.0." He cut off the Fat Friar, impatient and hungry. "But I'm starving and late to breakfast. Where's the Great Hall again?"
He could've sworn he saw the ghost roll his eyes before pointing to the boy's right. Muttering a thanks, he dove off in that direction.
The clanging of plates and chatter of students came to his ears and he spun to his left, entering the Great Hall. Only when he reached his friends and family, did he skid to a stop and squeeze between Dean and Logan.
"Morning you lot, how's the food?" He greater the crew as he quickly loaded up his plate.
"Where have you been mate?" Dean asked him. "We thought you got swallowed up by the giant squid or something."
"They have one of those?"
"That's what my brother tells me anyway."
"Wicked."
James chose that moment to load himself up with pancakes, syrup and bacon, making it a point to admire the cooking.
Who made all this stuff anyway? Shaking it his head, he simply wrote it off as magic and continued eating.
But what he couldn't write off was the sight of Roxanne over at the Hufflepuff Table. She sat further away from the rest of her house, choosing to spear her eggs in silence.
He bit his lip, contemplating going over there himself. It simply didn't make sense that Roxy of all people would end up in Hufflepuff of all houses.
He made a note in his head to talk to her about it later that day.
"So what's our first class?" Dean mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes. James glanced down to his time table.
"Transfiguration."
