If you're reading this, much love.
ENJOI
…
The three brothers woke the next morning groggily. After their late night excursion, they had been bombarded with greetings from almost every single member of Ravenclaw. The majority were stodgy, studious types, but they had still welcomed James Dean and his friends with ease. Travis immediately became popular for his exotic looks, American accent, and affable nature, and Brian was all but forced to play his acoustic guitar for everyone, and James had shook hands with so many people he started to get confused as to whether he was at a school or was running for office.
Finally they were allowed to retire to their dorm, which they shared with Tony Goldstein and a big, friendly black kid named Bem. Tony was even friendlier than he'd been on the boat, and Bem, though quiet, happily chatted with them well into the early morning hours before they passed out, sweets wrappers and clothes already tossed around the room.
James Dean was rested enough to be in a relatively good mood. Travis looked grumpier than usual, though, and Brian looked almost dead on his feet. They weren't going to let a lack of sleep ruin the moment when they saw Hermione walk in to the Great Hall at breakfast, though.
"So, what classes we got?" Travis asked as he poured an ungodly amount of sugar into his tea.
"Charms, Herbology with the Snakes, potions with Hufflepuff, and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Put da schedule do'n and hand me da buttuh, Bwine," James spoke over a piece of toast.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Brian shot back. "And say please."
"What's your problem?"
"Uh, we didn't go to bed until one in the morning? I don't run well on five hours sleep."
"Brian, you don't run well on twelve hours of sleep."
"Shaddup, Trav."
"Besides, we got to know our roomies better," James pointed out, slurping a cup of orange juice extra loud as Hermione Granger walked in. They were slightly shocked to see her look... fine. Then an older girl followed her, a few seconds after... looking weepy and still having pieces of melted licorice wand in her bushy brown hair. The three gave each other sheepish looks and went back to their breakfast quietly, looking slightly guilty. Gossip and thunders of laughter erupted from Gryffindor's table, though, as girls began loudly complaining about Peeves getting in to their dorms and causing absolute chaos. Apparently there were still clothes hanging from Gryffindor tower's flag pole...
Smiling at Hermione's look of disgust as she stalked past their table, he winked at her before slurping his OJ loudly again.
"Oi, James-" Fred Weasley, armed with a sly grin, greeted as he took a seat next to Brian.
"Travis, Brian," George playfully added as he sat next to James.
"So have you heard about last night?"
"Apparently, some tosser got Peeves-"
"Into Gryffindor's common last night-"
"And he ransacked the girl's dorms-"
"And dumped a bunch of melted sweets from the train trolley on Agatha Portland-"
"And Evangeline Hammond's complaining about some nutter stealing her shiny new custom robes-"
"And a lot of folks are saying it wasn't even a Gryffindor who let him in because of that-"
"Curious, I'd say," George finished as he plucked an apple from James's plate.
James shrugged and looked away in faux obliviousness, while Brian giggled a little but stayed quiet. Travis, however grinned, nodded, and said. "We simply have no idea what you're talking about."
The twins looked at them with stars in their eyes. "Poor Agatha Portland was crying all morning for what Peeves did to her hair," they chorused, grinning. "She still has pieces of licorice wand in it!"
"Oh, look- mail is here!"
James's owl flew down from the enchanted ceiling with a note from their parents. Patting the owl on the beak he tore the letter open.
James Dean, Harry, Brian and Travis:
Well, how are my newest Gryffindors? How are you fitting in with your new school mates? Your mother is worried sick already: "What if they forgot their wands?" or "Who's going to make sure they wear clean clothes? What about bullies? You know Jamie isn't that big…" Don't worry son, I know you can handle anything. You're mother isn't meaning to insult your pride, honest! Just send a letter back asap, so she'll be reassured that you're all just fine.
Regards, J.I.P
"Uh… how do we tell him that we are not in Gryffindor?" Brian asked, a little worried.
"Simple," James answered. Pulling out a pen (he hated quills, and already decided he would only use them in class) he began writing a response.
Dear Esteemed Parents,
Ravenclaw house has so far been amazing! The bed sheets are made of satin, which is kinda girly, but I think I can get over that. Details, right? Apparently, our Head of House is really nice. Flitwick, is that his name?
Harry and Ron Weasley made it into Gryffindor, though. Harry was so worried about becoming a Snake that he begged the old hat to make him anything but a Slytherin. And the look on Ron's face when he was sorted, it was priceless.
Anyway, tell Mom that we are all just fine. We have everything, I swear; O. P.'s honor. We will all write by the end of the week, I promise. We need to head to class, so I guess this is all I get to write. Bye!
"Here, Owl. Take this to Dad. James Ignotus Potter."
The spectacled owl hooted his affirmative, grabbed a piece of bacon from Travis's plate, and flew from the Great Hall.
"You still haven't named the poor thing?" Travis asked incredulously. "No wonder its grouchy! You just call it 'Owl!'"
James held his hands up defensively. "I dunno what to name the damn thing! I never had this responsibility before! I want it to be good, at least..."
"You should really name it," George prodded. "Its not nice to just call it Owl."
"Oh, okay, wise guys," James grumbled. "'Owl' see what I can work up!"
Eyes of almost every Ravenclaw at the table rolled, but James laughed at his own pun anyway.
"No," Travis muttered with a shaking head. "Just, nah, man."
"Guys, it's time to get to class," Brian interjected. Rolling their eyes, James and Travis stood, knocking knuckles with the Weasley's as they did.
Grabbing their bags, they made their way out of the Hall. Small talk passed their time as they wound through the corridors and stairs. Things like Quidditch, classes, and pranks filled the air with jovial banter and slapstick jokes about other students. However, when a group of rowdy Slytherins blocked the path, things got cold rather quickly.
"What's the matter, Kennedy?" Draco Malfoy's drawling voice taunted a lone Ravenclaw girl, who was cornered between the gang of Slytherins and a wall. Her canvas school bag was ripped open, and all her school supplies had been thrown around, scattered and trampled on. "Did you get sorted into the wrong house?"
"Please, just leave me alone!" A familiar voice met James' ears. It was the girl from the day previous, who was in the boat with them. "I haven't done anything to you!"
"Don't be so crass," a fifth year girl cackled. "A pureblood like you belongs in Slytherin, but here you are in a house of geeks and bookworms!"
"Hey, leave her alone!" Travis barked, walking towards the gang with an unusual show of aggression. James, following his lead, strode right beside him. Brian lazily brought up the rear, alert, but uninterested.
"Well, if it isn't the shortest Potter and his mutt 'brother,'" Malfoy jeered to the delight of his house mates. "What's the matter? Don't you have a library to study in, Bird Brain?"
"No, but I'm sure I can find a few books small enough to hide your pathetic ego in," James insulted back.
Malfoy's face flushed with anger and shame. Balling his hands into fists, he shook as he struggled to formulate a comeback. His fellows all laughed at him, and he nearly exploded. "Watch your tongue, Potter!"
"Whattsa matter, Malfoy?" Travis asked. "You mean to tell me that a Snake as cunning as you doesn't have a comeback for him?"
"I guess his ferret faced skull is too small to house the proper amount of brain cells to make him intelligent enough to think past petty, racist insults," Brian quipped, making the other Slytherins laugh even more.
Draco was incensed by that point. His goons, Crabbe and Goyle, were cracking their knuckles threateningly, the only other Slytherins that weren't laughing. Travis and Brian stared them down, silently daring them to bring it on, when Ron and Harry walked up from the stairs, and immediately came to stand shoulder to shoulder with them as they stared the Slytherins down.
"Bullying a girl, Malfoy? Harry asked dubiously as he looked at Kiara. "That's bad taste. Almost as distasteful as your haircut."
"Your beautician primp that for ya?" James laughed.
"You can kiss my beautician," Travis added, thrusting his hips.
"You wanna go?" Draco seethed, surging forward, throwing his bag to the ground.
"Aw, look, he does wanna kiss it!" Harry joked to Travis.
"Look, man, that was a joke," Travis held his hands up in faux concern. "No judgment about the way you swing, but you should really not be so angry about it."
Draco's face went red, and his hands shook in rage.
"Aw, he's coy," Brian giggled. "Get wrecked, pal."
"Get wrecked," Travis and James chorused.
"C'mon, mates, let's get these-"
"Lay off it, Malfoy," one of the older Slytherins muttered.
"Gee, Drake," James tutted. "Your friends aren't giving you a lot of help here. Maybe they only respect intelligent people."
"I'd call your guard dogs off," Harry threatened, looking to Crabbe and Goyle, who were still the only ones backing Malfoy up. "Wouldn't want them to start something they'd regret."
"Why don't you-"
"I said back off, Malfoy," The older Slytherins interrupted. "I'm a prefect, and I can't allow any fights to go on. Come on, let's get to class. This was getting boring anyway."
Like that, the gang dispersed, with the prefect half dragging Malfoy away. The girl, Kiara, was crying and picking up all of her fallen books and strewn parchment and quills. Her ripped bag was cradled in her arms as she scooped up as much as she could into its torn body.
"Here, lemme help," James soothed as he and Travis knelt and began to pick up her books.
She ignored him as a soft sob racked her shoulders. Shakily and erratically picking up her supplies, she looked like she was lost in her own despair.
"Hey... its okay. They're gone," Travis comforted her patting her back as he handed her a stack of loose leaf parchment.
"Don't worry about them," Brian growled. "They're just a bunch of dicks."
She was almost inconsolable, though, and Travis, for once, looked out of his element. James cringed, as if Travis was at a loss, what could he do?
"Uh, hey," Harry patted her on the back awkwardly. "What's the matter? Its over, we scared 'em off."
"Nothing," the girl hiccuped finally, her bright blue eyes looking at them in shame. "I-I-I just don't want to be late-"
"Then lets get to class!" James grinned, happy to have progress. "If you can stand, that is!"
Embarrassed, she laughed a bit and blushed as Harry and Travis helped her up.
"Kiara, right?" Ron asked, handing her the last of her books.
"Y-yeah," she muttered. She looked forlornly at her torn bag.
"We'll get it fixed," Travis assured her with a grin. "Our dad fixes crap like this all the time at home with a spell. Don't really know how to work it but I'm sure Flitwick does, and he's our first class today."
"Don't mind them," Harry assured her, looking at the retreating backs of Slytherins and scowling. "I really don't like that ferret."
"Fun putting him in his place, though," James muttered, to which Harry agreed. James smacked him on the shoulder with a grin before looking at his watch. "We're gonna be late. You two better make like a tree and get the hell outta here."
"Yer brother," Kiara almost whispered as Rona nd Harry took of for their class. "He's really nice. His friend, too."
"They really aren't that bad," James agreed.
She giggled a little, and Travis, James and Brian all blushed a bit. Her Irish accent and mousy voice was adorable. She laughed slightly again, until sobs started falling from her and she fell into James's chest. Nervously wrapping her in a hug, James looked up at Brian and Travis, who both shrugged.
Putting a hand on her back, Travis whispered, "I know Jimmy Dean makes a comfy pillow, but we do have to get to Charms."
She giggled again and nodded. Shyly pulling herself away, she kept her gaze down, obviously embarrassed. They helped her by carrying some of her things, and hauled it to the Charms corridor.
...
"… Charms is a very broad and deep scope of magic. Its spells can range from miraculous and heart-lightening to rather nasty- oh, you must be my four missing students! Which one of you is…? Gates?"
"Me, sir," Brian spoke up, holding up his hand. He quickly took a seat next to Travis at the front of the class, leaving James and Emma the last desk at the back.
Flitwick checked his name off, and then looked to James. His eyes twinkled in excitement, and he clapped his hands gleefully. He had to have been no younger than eighty, judging by how old he looked. Long, wild hair framed his head like a wispy white cloud and his pale blue eyes shone with a youthful exuberance. He couldn't have been taller than two and a half feet.
"Then you must be James Dean!" he exclaimed in a squeaky voice.
"Yes, sir. That's me," James gave a two finger salute as he pulled a chair for Kiara.
"Ah, very honored to meet you," Flitwick huffed as he pulled himself from his chair and waddled to them, holding his tiny hand out. James shook it awkwardly.
"Yes sir, I'm sorry we're late-"
"Oh, hogwash, m'boy, hogwash! I must say, it is an honor to have you in Ravenclaw! I can tell you three were helping Miss… uh…" Flitwick looked down at his list. "Kennedy! It would appear that she has ripped her school bag! Understandable, you three, most understandable. It's good to see our fellow Ravenclaws looking out for each other. Five points to Ravenclaw, the three of you."
"Professor?" James asked. "Do you think you could fix it for her? I know the spell for it, but..."
"Yes, of course!" Flitwick all but jumped with joy. "Not the first Charm I wanted to teach the class, but its a valuable one none the less! You say you know the spell? Can you tell me its incantation?"
"Yeah, its Reparo," James answered.
"Excellent! Another five points to Ravenclaw! Everyone, watch my hand closely and repeat after me. Reparo."
"Reparo," the rest of the Ravenclaws all repeated nervously as Flitwick mimed the wrist and hand motion for the spell.
"Excellent!" Flitwick clapped, the with a flick of his wand, uttered, "Reparo!"
Kiara's bag stitched itself back together, and her face looked relieved. She mouthed 'Thank you,' to James and he nodded.
"Thank you, sir," thanked James thanked him.
"Not a problem, Potter. Good deeds should never be punished, nor should they ever go unrewarded. Take a seat, will you please? Now, pull out your parchment and prepare to take notes on the simplest wands motions."
...
Lily read the letter with a growing grin.
"Yes!" She screamed triumphantly, spinning the wheelchair into a wheelie and spiraling around behind her desk at St. Mungo's. "You owe me ten galleons! I told you James Dean was going to be a Ravenclaw!"
James looked at his wife in distaste. "Oh, you're so mature, Cottontail."
"Look who's talking, Prongs. Sore loser!"
…
Herbology was a pain, James decided. It had been ten minutes, and he was already elbow deep in a vat of some kind of manure next to Millicent Bulstrode, a troll of a Slytherin girl with a flat face and wide, round cheeks. She was easily a head taller than him and weighed twice as much, and seemed to be about as happy with being paired with him as he was with her. They had a silent agreement, though, that they'd be diplomatic with each other, as Professor Sprout, the frumpy and doddering Herbology teacher, made every single Ravenclaw partner with a Slytherin she could, numbers given, to avoid "any inter house conflicts in my greenhouse."
James Dean had to give her credit where credit was due, though. She was rather resourceful. She had managed to find a way to get the manure packed away industriously and efficiently, and James had watched and mimicked her. They had finished processing their manure pots faster than everyone in class, and Sprout seemed pleased.
"Excellent teamwork, you two!" She clapped her hands. "Five points to your houses!"
Giving each begrudging looks, she huffed brutishly and James rolled his eyes.
…
"You are here to learn the subtle- and possibly deadly- art and science of potion-making," The tall, greasy haired, hook-nosed man dressed in black proclaimed loudly. He was very intimidating, with his curtain of black hair and cold dark eyes, as well as being bedecked in flowing black robes that made him look a bit like Darth Vader.
"Potter!" he thundered, as James had been dozing in his post lunch haze.
"Huh?"
"Potter!"
"Uh, oh, yeah-" James shook fully awake, causing laughter to erupt from the other Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. "I mean, sir?"
"What do you get when you add powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?" asked, clearly hoping to teach him some kind of lesson. James cocked his head, still drowsy but thankful he wasn't taking points for sleeping.
Yet.
"Uh-"
"That's what I thought. Clearly yours and your brother's 'fame' is not at all what it's cracked up to be."
The class stirred quietly, shocked at Snape's insult. James, however, was largely unaffected. "Uh-"
"Is 'uh' the only word in your vocabulary, Mr. Potter?"
"Uh-I mean-ahem," he shook himself and sat upright. "Not really. Also, asphodel and wormwood mixed together are ingredients to the potion called the Draught of Living Death, which is supposed to put the drinker in such a deep sleep people think they're dead. Some dude named Alladron the Convict used it to get outta jail by faking his death."
Snape's sneering face quirked an eyebrow slightly. "Well, it would appear that you may have some intelligence to you. What is the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?"
"None. They are the same exact plant. Their scientific name is aconitum."
Snape had the faint aura of beginning to look half impressed, half angry. "Aconite, actually-"
"Aconite is just another name for it, not the recognized species name. You wanna call out that, fine, but we can also call it leopard's bane, woman's bane, mousebane, devil's helmet, the Queen of Poisons, or even my favorite, Blue Rocket."
Snape's eyes narrowed, but relented the point. "Where does one find a bezoar?"
"A bezoar is a digestive stone from a goat's stomach. It can cure most poisons."
Snape finally dropped his wall of anger and looked at James with interest. "Well, it would appear that you, unlike your twin, can actually take time to read a book. A few times, it would appear, as well..."
"Actually, I only glossed over it once, sir."
The look of shock wrote itself all over Snape's pale face. "And how did you come across this knowledge, then? Fancy yourself a green thumbed troublemaker?"
"First of all, woooooow, rude, no matter how true it might be. Second, no, I have near perfect memory. Genetic lottery, I guess."
James didn't know what buttons in Snape's angry board he had pressed, but the Potion's professor got really, really mad after that.
…
Defense Against the Dark Arts was the last class of their day, and the Ravenclaw's excitement for what had promised to be the most interesting subject was dampened by Quirrell's lesson. It was a joke, really, as the man stuttered his way through the boring lecture, and the heavy smell of garlic wafted in the air. It made James's eyes water, and while he kept quiet and assumed Quirrell had a thing about vampires or something, he couldn't help rubbing his eyes every few minutes, which only seemed to make the stinging worse.
Quirrell kept a close eye on him, too. It was creepy, because he went out of his way to be nice to him, almost... doting? He would single him out to answer his questions from the lecture and heap house points on him when he inevitably got it right, then he'd try to get close, but when Quirrell got a certain distance away, he'd jerk his head, like he had back in the Leaky Cauldron, and retreat away reflexively.
James scowled as he, Travis, and Brian left the class, having hardly gleaned anything from the slow paced, stammering lesson. Travis and Brian asked him about what Quirrell's odd behavior was all about, but James had no idea, and soon, it was all forgotten as they escorted Kiara to the Ravenclaw dorm.
…
"Hey, flying lessons start tomorrow," Brian announced as they sat in their newly claimed corner.
"Huh?" James muttered tiredly from his newly minted favorite spot; a couch and table facing the wall of the common room. Far from the rest of the house, and out of the prying eyes of prefects, it was the perfect place to get a bit of peace to finish homework and plan independent "midnight trips."
"Flying lessons tomorrow. It's at three thirty, with the Hufflepuffs."
"Sweet," Travis sighed, looking relieved. James felt relief, too. He was glad to do something he actually had known how to do, rather than just repeat things he'd read from a dry textbook.
"I still can't believe Snape's first class," Travis laughed as he plopped down on the couch next to a quiet Kiara, who had began sticking with them every chance she had. "That jerk got what he had coming to him."
Brian and Travis laughed heartily at the reminiscing. Kiara even giggled a little. "The look on his face was classic," Brian said over his laughing. Pulling an exaggerated impersonation of Snape's face, Brian raised his voice to match Snape's and screamed at Kiara while waving his finger under her nose, "Potter! Expand your vocabulary!"
"I think 'uh' is the only word he really needed," Travis laughed as he started copying James's answers to their Potions work. "Say 'Uh," again! I dare ya!"
…
That evening, the three pranksters met up with the Weasley twins. Fred and George wanted to check out the barred doorway on the third floor, and with big grins, James, Travis and Brian agreed to meet up and check it out.
The five pranksters had, by eleven o'clock, had successfully evaded Filch and the prefect patrols to get to their target. They were met by a locked door, and when James started to trying picking the lock, George moved him aside and taught them the unlocking spell, Alohamora. The three Ravenclaw's glee at learning a new spell to get into places was short lived, however, when they opened the door to find Cerberus himself ready to bite their heads off.
Three large, snarling heads rose from a huge, stocky body. Three tails cracked like whips against the walls and floors, and it smelled like the dog hadn't gotten a bath in long time. James stared, wide eyed for a moment as he stared the thing down, before careening backwards in a panic.
"Jesus!" he screamed as the dog began barking and howling, its drool flying. Fred and George slammed the door shut and re-locked it as once they were out, and they all shared terrified looks.
They all agreed, from then on, to stay away from that door and went their separate ways.
…