Disclaimer: Every character in this story belongs to JKRowling.
The original ideas belong to me, but I ain't nuts and not going to make money with them.
James' and Sirius' lineage comes from a story Russian Rulette by Soz (I like it very much, isn't it original?).
The title of the story is a title of a Beatles song.
Some of the curses in Sirius' book are courtesy of clamchowder (thanks a lot).
And finally the phrase "violence is the last resource of the incapable" is property of I. Asimov, Foundation (I don't know the page, but the intention is what counts, right? Hope they don't throw me out…)
There had been this kid. A first-year like himself, tiny and a bit lost-looking, with a trunk that probably weighed more that its owner. He was late to get on the Hogwarts Express, desperately pushing his luggage along the platform. The only thing James wanted was to help, but than the trunk opened, everything came out and a couple of bigger kids behind them rolled on the floor from laughter. They didn't even bother to pretend it wasn't their doing. Without thinking, he took out his wand.
But it wasn't him who caused the explosion that completely destroyed the door of the 3rd wagon so that the prefects had to stay guard and make sure no one fell out of the train during the whole trip. What really happened was a bit of a mystery. The others raised their wands, and before James could start worrying he heard another voice from inside the train.
"Three against one. Not exactly fair, but I guess people are the same everywhere." The boy took out his wand as well. Whatever he did with it, the explosion threw James' three adversaries on the ground together with the door and dispersed the contents of the trunk over the whole platform. James and the stranger stared at one another for a moment, and than the other boy let out an exclamation that sounded both very rude and very loud to James and disappeared from the scene. Which was the reason James was alone and looking as guilty as it got when the conductor appeared to sort out the mess.
He had sat very quietly in his compartment for the whole trip, than got sorted into Gryffindor and immediately led away by the head if his new house. The kid he had tried to help became a Hufflepuff (typical) and the dark-haired boy from the train got into Gryffindor much to James' disgust. Not even the fact that he too now belonged the most glorious of the four Hogwards houses cheered him up. Only that morning he had thought he would give everything he had to get into there, but now sitting in Professor McGonagall's office he wondered why the most glorious house in Hogwarts also had to have the most no nonsense looking teacher. With her big round glasses and a tight bun she looked very young, very competent and very strict.
"Mr. Potter, I have expected better from you," was the first thing she said. "What would your father think if he knew of the train incident?"
That was exactly what James had been wondering during the whole trip. He had no illusions about the matter. Being the son of the Minister of Magic was no easy task, and being the son of the Minister of Magic with a criminal record was a nightmare. He just stared at the floor in front of himself.
"Luckily for you, it happened before you were assigned to this house. If this happens again, I will not hesitate to take points. Yes, Mr. Potter, points from my own house and from Minister's son. Don't ex pect to be treated differently."
James didn't expect to be treated differently but in a way, he was. Professor McGonagall took him to the Gryffindor tower, said the password and left him alone with a pair of sandwiches for all the company. In spite of not eating for the whole day (he didn't dare to ask for anything on the train after being told to sit quiet in his compartment) James didn't have any hunger. He settled for exploring the common room, feeling that the day he had spent all the summer looking forward to has suddenly become the worst of his life.
Suddenly the portrait that guarded the entrance shook, and he heard a voice shouting to let him in. James came nearer, puzzled at the scene. The visitor not only didn't know the password, he seemed to ignore the fact that he needed one and simply shook the frame, trying to push it aside. James shoved the portrait aside and was almost run over by the boy that had tried to get in. With disgust he realised it was the same one who had caused his whole predicament. What he really wanted at the moment was to break his nose or undertake some other drastic action, but the kid smiled sheepishly and climbed inside before James' education could even start to horrify at the thought.
"Bloody paintings! Blab all the time, and you would think they could at least be helpful but not, they just stare and laugh at you."
"They will if you don't have the password." James offered with malicious superiority.
"The pass… Never mind. Is she gone already?"
"Yes." James decided that he didn't like the kid at all.
"Damn. Look, I'm sorry. When the wagon blew up I panicked, but when she grabbed you after that hat act I wanted to tell but you were so quick off I lost you, and have been running around the castle trying to find anyone at all. Some of the paintings decided to help but they all wanted to know what house I'm in and I couldn't remember the name until I remembered there was a lion over our table and that seemed to make them very happy." He said all that very quickly and when he finally stopped the silence immediately made James uncomfortable. The boy seemed really apologetic, and he scowled himself for imaging how he would look like with a bloody nose. Not that James ever hit someone in his life.
"You are a muggle-born, right?" He offered finally. It was impossible someone from the magical community would forget the names of the houses. James' parents were very proud of the fact that his first word had been "Gryffindor" and never lost an opportunity to point that out to anybody who wanted to listen. And provided they were who they were about every wizard in England probably knew it by now. Well, at least he was a Gryffindor, now. The other boy mustered him thoughtfully.
"I hope you didn't mean what I think you meant, pal. I did apologise for that…"
"We call the people who don't know about magic muggles, it's not disrespectful or anything." That earned him another wide grin for no apparent reason. Than James remembered. The boy had been the first to be sorted. Black, Sirius. If that was a muggle name he would eat a dragon for breakfast.
"How did you get into Hogwarts?" He asked suspiciously.
"I blew up my old school." Sirius Black tried to look shameful but his grin got, if possible, brighter. "Didn't mean it, though. I never mean the really strong stuff," he elaborated. He probably noticed the size of James' eyes, for he continued conversationally. "The headmaster was screaming his guts on me again, telling how happy he'll be when I finally end up in a reformatory and so on and wouldn't listen. I tried to explain it wasn't me, but… really, it just blew up, his office, the toilets, everything. Had to suspend the classes and call the police. It was a real mess."
James knew what the police was. The muggle version of Hit Wizards. Except that he supposed that Sirius wouldn't be able to appreciate his vast knowledge of muggles.
"I was sure they were going to send me to the reformatory for real that time. After four years of havoc they weren't believing I didn't know why the things exploded around me. Than that man came."
"What man?"
"The one who gave that funny speech in the beginning. He acted exactly as strange than."
"Albus Dumbledore? He is great. The greatest of all wizards."
Sirius only shrugged his shoulders. "I'll give it to him, the police disappeared so quickly you'd think they saw the devil, and the bore of the headmaster too. He talked to my parents for a while and than asked if we could talk alone. Was terribly interested in the blast, and how, and if I was upset when it happened, and if I had ever done something like that before. And you know what he did? He transformed the table in a pig. A green pig."
To James it wasn't anything out of the ordinary but he chose to keep his magic experience for himself. It was the most fascinating story he had ever heard.
"To me, the biggest trick he did was to persuade my folks. They don't have much money, and they don't think much of board schools anyway. All that lords and things make me thick. But he said I had to learn or it would never stop, so I'm here. What's your name?"
"James. James Potter." One of those lords you hate so much.
"Sirius Black." He reached out his hand and James shook it.
"You have a strange name for a muggle."
"Shows that not only wizards have their share of loonies." He went to the table and started to look for something in the depth of his clothes. Had James not believed he was a muggle-born already he would have to believe him now. The best actor could not imitate the annoyance with which Sirius went over the numerous pockets, laces and complicated buttons of his cloak.
"The old man said something funny at the end. That I would do okay because I believed in magic so easily. Except that my head still spins from everything I saw today. You know what I can't understand? How can you guys be possible wearing dresses!" At the end he managed to produce a piece of curbis cake and some cookies and added them to Professor McGonagall's sandwiches. James had to admit they looked much more tempting.
"Uh, and I'll tell her it wasn't you, don't worry. When that door flew out of the train I just panicked. I thought it would be easier with a wand. My father had promised to kill me if I ever do something like that again."
"Don't bother. She didn't even give me a detention. My parents will know nothing of it."
"Okay." Sirius answered with full mouth.
They didn't speak much after that. For some unknown reason James scowled himself for mentioning his parents, and than felt guilty for wanting to avoid them as much as possible. It wasn't like he was ashamed of them, but Sirius' words had stuck a nerve. All their talk about maintaining the honour of the family and their good name… He hated it, actually. He was a good student and knew what was right, but jumping out of his skin to become Head Boy one day was higher on his parent's list of priorities than on his own. Sirius, on his hand, was way too busy with keeping his mouth closed at the sight of a queue of house elves that brought in the trunks of Gryffindor students. The food was finished before the portrait door opened and a tall, edgy prefect girl led them to their dormitory.
The next couple of days had gone very quickly. James had thought -and dreaded- that he would be the centre of all looks due to his name, but quickly found out that Sirius managed to get all the attention. There were more that a couple of muggle-born at Hogwarts, but none of them made a show out of his or her ancestry. Another Gryffindor first-year, Lily, went rot every time she had to admit she didn't know something about the wizard world. Sirius, on the contrary, asked endless questions, never stopped unless he got an answer and never lost an opportunity to tell everyone who wanted to hear about his own world.
Not that James believed everything he said. Right at the first breakfast he got carried away explaining the rest of first-years about something he called a helicopter, than went to clarify the concepts of the trip to moon and, inspired by the stunned silence reigning around the table was in the process of explaining the specifics of hyperspace travel when another boy interrupted shyly:
"Wasn't there a documentary that said they hoped to do it in hundred years or so?" Every stare turned and the boy turned deep red and concentrated on his toast. They had no time to talk to each other, and the only thing James knew of him was that his name was Remus. Far away from being angry Sirius seemed to give his words a good thought.
"Right." He offered finally. "No space ships out there, I'm afraid. But who wants one when he can make things fly and spit fire?" Everyone else would have been accused of lying at that point, but Sirius smiled, admitted guiltiness so openly that pointing it out seemed a waste of words. Later James noticed that he did so every time when he was accused of wrongdoing, and it seemed to work flawlessly on everyone except on Professor McGonagall.
"You know a lot about muggles." James turned to Remus.
"I saw it on television. It's a muggle device for entertaining you when there's nothing else to do. I was ill, so my parents bought me one." He informed mechanically, never looking up from his plate. There were tears in his eyes now. James thought it was better to leave him alone.
The classes were more entertaining they could have hoped for. James earned Professor McGonagall's forgiveness in the first Transformations class when he was the first to come up to her table with a silver needle in his hand. Sirius' doubts about having magical powers, if any, were dissolved when he, too, won 5 points for Gryffindor in Charms. Never mind that he lost them and more on their way to Care of magical creatures as he almost stepped on Mrs. Norris. Inspired by that fact he thoughtfully and loudly told everyone a story of a boy in his old school who used to chase cats and tie empty tins to their tails for fun. The story itself had been harmless enough and he even had time to add that he himself didn't approve of such behaviour, but Filch didn't wait to enter in details. They avoided a collective detention by showing quicker reflexes and higher speed than the caretaker and had luck he didn't know their names yet.
By the end of the week James had come to the conclusion he wasn't as miserable as he expected to be, but not as happy as his parents told him he would. He had been right in a way. Most of his fellow classmates were nice, but sometimes avoided him as though they thought a troop of bodyguards would appear out of nowhere to protect him if somebody dared to shake his hand. The only one who seemed oblivious to the matter of James' high-dignified parents was Remus, but he wasn't much of a company as avoided everyone else anyway. Peter was nice, and since James spent a whole afternoon showing him the secrets of match-to-needle transformation he was becoming his best and only friend. Sirius was a bit of a mystery. James liked him, and there was hardly anyone who did not. And yet his long disappearances and his whole attitude spoke trouble, and James found himself wondering if the story about the headmaster's office had more than he wanted to admit.
He was sitting by the fire, reading the transformations textbook and really studying something for the first time since the classes started when he heard Sirius falling in a chair in front of him. What got his attention was the dark look on his face, an expression he didn't remember seeing in the week he had known him.
"Can I ask you something?" James was about to make one of those jokes about "little parental talks" everyone else, Sirius included, loved so much but stopped himself, nodding instead.
"How far does this magic thing get?"
"What magic thing?" "What can you do with it? Can you hurt someone? Not with an explosion, just say something and the other looses an arm, or dies."
"There's something we call Dark Arts. It's for hurting people, and it's mostly illegal."
"There was a boy, he said he could make someone's guts come out of his mouth and strangle him. Do you reckon he wasn't bluffing?"
"Who?"
"One of the Slytherins. Long nose, long hair, both need a good washing, always the first to answer in Potions." "It's pretty advanced, but a Snape… Maybe."
"Do you know everybody in here?"
"We are a small community. Everyone knows most of the others."
"And you know everyone, right?" James froze, but Sirius winked good-naturedly at him. He produced a book and pushed it across the table. It was labelled Original curses for self-defence and was full of different no-so-orthodox spells, instructions included.
"Do you think those ones will be difficult to learn?"
"They will be disgusting to learn. Not really difficult. There're lots of pictures, that's a sure sign." He added.
"Do you know any?" James studied the names. Acnei totalis. Incontinentia. Emetus.
"I have heard of some but never tried. My parents would have had a heart attack, and you need to try it on somebody to see if it works." Sirius squeezed his eyes and stretched his arm.
"Are you crazy? You don't need to learn any of it that way, we'll do it in Charms eventually…"
"Right, and meanwhile my only protection will be the treasured knowledge of how to transform a match in a needle!"
"Nobody will want to curse you!"
"Any of that guys we have the potions with. In my old school we had a sort of a war between us and the secondary across the street. Ambushing one another, throwing dirt and so on. No real reason, sort of stupid, but balls of mud never hurt anyone. And those guys from Slytherin gaze at me like they would like to see my guts strangling me."
"Some wizards don't like outsiders being allowed to learn magic." James offered feeling very uncomfortable. "Most of us don't mind." Again, Sirius' dark eyes laughed at him, as if he guessed James discomfort. He grinned and brushed a lock of black hair out of his eyes. He did so constantly, and James always wondered why he couldn't simply have a good haircut. His own rebellious hair was beyond improving.
"Outsiders, huh? We'll see."
"BROOMS?! You fly on brooms?" Sirius looked like he was about to have a fit of laughter, and the fact that whole Great Hall stared at him and nobody shared his astonishment seemed not to bother him at all.
"What else should we be flying on?"
"Planes? No, you wouldn't. But brooms are so old. How about a vacuum cleaner?" Sirius on a roll. Something everyone was learning to avoid like fire. Not that James didn't give a suppressed snort at the joke. He knew what a vacuum cleaner was, after all.
"How about seeing if you can fly one, smart ass?" The Gryffindor prefect leading them outside cut him offended.
It turned out Sirius couldn't. Most of the rest managed to fly up at their first try, and James speeded up and made a small loop around Lily, trying to stay unnoticed by Professor Volar. Sirius, Remus and Peter stood on the ground with heads lifted to the sky and followed the brooms.
"Need help, boys?" Professor Volar asked kindly. Smart flying was a must among the students, and she did what she could to avoid embarrassing the rest.
"I already know how to fly, Professor. I just don't like it that much." Remus picked his broom, raised a couple of meters in the air and made some careful turns to illustrate his words.
"I can't, but I will learn or die trying!" Sirius couldn't take his eyes away from James, who was now making double mortal loops in the security Professor Volar wasn't paying attention.
"I can't and I think I don't like it." Peter smiled sheepishly and the rest laughed. "I wish we hadn't this together with Slytherins. They all can."
Ten minutes later the teacher called everyone back to ground and, looking at James from the corner of the eye said that the smarties who thought they could do it were welcome to show their skills to the rest. James wasn't the one to avoid a challenge. Feeling the looks of everyone on his back he mounted his broom and flew up.
On the ground a whisper got Sirius' attention.
"Come, Sevvie! Any of us would do it, but we don't know now! Come on!" He didn't hear the answer, but suddenly James' broom did something strange. It pranced, almost throwing him down, than jerked from side to side and pranced again. Professor Volar screamed at him to hold on. Sirius turned around and saw Snape, broom in hand, staring up in the sky with his lips moving. He shook his broom, and James gave out a frightened scream. The next instant it was Sirius who was shaking Snape. It turned out to be a wrong thing to do.
Snape's broom fell out of his hand, and James' one imitated the move, falling like a stone. He was lucky there wasn't much distance, and the teacher softened the fall. The only result of the spectacular crash was a loud yelp and a happy laugh of every member of Slytherin. The only thing that resulted broken was James' pride.
Back in the Gryffindor tower Sirius took James by wrist and dragged him upstairs. The dorm was a good idea to James, but company wasn't welcome. The only thing he wanted was to be left alone, preferably for the rest of his life. He had expected -hoped- to make it to the Quidditch team sometime. He even persuaded his parents to buy him a race broom and let him practise. Now his broom would slowly become dusty in the Potters dungeon. That was why James didn't quite appreciate it when he was forced to sit on his bed and look directly into Sirius' unsettlingly bright eyes.
"It's a war."
"What?"
"It's a war. They don't like us, and we don't like them. We need to answer back, or else it will be your cauldron, or my breakfast or anything else they'll decide to sabotage."
"Violence is the last resource of the incapable…"
"I didn't ask you for an electoral speech." Sirius cut him short. James had to admit he was right in a way. Except that school wars weren't his but Sirius' style.
"You never came to tell me what you were doing in that headmaster's office in the first place." Sirius grinned dreamily and shook his head to get rid of hair in his eyes.
"They never caught me with something I did on purpose. If you spend your whole life polishing toilet sinks for something that's not under you control it's only fair to have some fun on your own."
"What did you do?"
"It doesn't matter what I did. The question is what we can do now. This magic is a treasure waiting to be discovered by some juvenile offender." At that he dived under his bed and produced the book of curses he had shown James before. James was all ready to start a new wave of indignant protests but found with horror that he was greening like mad at the prospect of becoming one of those juvenile offenders himself. He had already got in trouble for something he didn't do. Now it was time to do something without getting in trouble.
"If we are caught I will run away and vehemently deny having anything to do with your plan." Sirius' grin grew if possible even brighter.
They were flipping through the pages of the book, rejecting one curse after another for being too difficult, too mild or not spectacular enough. To James' delight it was him who came up with the final plan. It was both elegant and easy. They had almost forgotten they weren't alone in the universe when the door opened and Remus walked in, evidently ready to go to sleep. The silence made him clear he had walked in on something important. He made his best to pretend he only wanted to get something from his trunk and turned to go as quickly as he could without a word.
"Wait! We'll go downstairs, you can stay here!" Remus shook his head silently and opened the door.
"We are planning a present for our friend Severus. Wanna join?"
James tried to calculate the chances he had giving Sirius' ribs a friendly elbow without Remus noticing it and realised there were none. Remus noticed virtually everything, even if he mostly chose to keep his observations to himself. He was as nice as he was shy, and James would do anything to get to know him better. But as much as he wanted to be friends with Remus he was sure it was the wrong moment for it. Remus didn't look like he would appreciate being involved in their criminal plans.
Too late. Sirius shifted and clapped invitingly on the bed between him and James. Remus bit his lip hesitatingly but went to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Back to our plan. As Jamie-boy here suggested it's not about what curse we use but how we use it. We have studied the Levitation Spell already. Now look here."
Without the laughs and the colourful details the actual plan fitted in one sentence. After Sirius finished they both looked at Remus, waiting for the reaction.
"You'll get caught the moment you take out your wand. If you think the teachers don't look at you in class you are very mistaken."
"Than?"
"Do it somewhere with lots of students and few teachers. Or so that the teachers are far away."
"In the corridors?"
"In the Great Hall."
Remus went slightly pink and lowered his eyes, but was unable to hide the smile at the admiring looks he was becoming.
James got to do the actual spell. He had good reasons to volunteer for it, and his desires weren't one of them. The logical step would be to toss for it, but chances were Remus would be chosen and James still had his doubts about his desire to be there. What he got was a wishful look from Sirius and an answer along the lines he wanted to take all the glory. James replied that he wanted to take all the risks and Sirius remembered that he still owed him one from the train, and the topic was closed.
So the next morning they all marched to the Slytherin table. Sirius made a show pretending to accuse Snape of using illegal spells, Remus made a show pretending to calm Sirius and James just stood there concentrating on casting the spell in the right place and making fool of himself. They managed to finish before attracting too much attention and hurried to their own table with the clean conscience of a job well done.
"I don't know, guys. What if I missed?"
"Than they'll never know what it was supposed to be. That's the beauty of doing it without a declaration of intent." James tried to imagine doing something to the Slytherins having explained what it was in advance and failed miserably. He still had a lot to learn. The thought sent chills down his spine. What the hell he was thinking about?
After a while Peter joined them at the table and asked as uncaring as he managed why they hadn't waited for him in the morning.
"Sorry, Pete. A question of Gryffindor honour. We didn't think you were going to like it. The next time you'll be the first one to know." Sirius certainly had a way with people. Now Peter was half pleased half dead with worry.
Not once during the whole breakfast. That was the agreement about looking in Snape's direction. Still, everyone threw hidden looks at the Slytherin table. Still, the wave of laughter took them by surprise. They turned and had to admit it was impossible to avoid laughing. James´ Levitation Spell on Snape's robes had worked flawlessly. It became very evident as soon as Snape raised from the table. The skirts of his black cloak flew around and over his head in a way that -the way Sirius put it later- could have been romantic on a girl but not on a guy. After all, nobody was overly interested in the colour of his underwear. With a roar of laughter following him Snape walked out of the Great Hall. The murderous glance on his face promised a slow and painful death.
What made Professor McGonagall suspect them beat James. They couldn't have laughed any more loudly that everyone else in the hall. Maybe they spend too much time near Slytherin table, or maybe it was the fact that not many first-years had managed the levitation spell yet. Anyhow, the look on her face was every bit as murderous as Snape's had been. The laughter around James died.
"Mr. Potter. I truly and sincerely never expected something like that from you. I warned you about…"
"And you were right, professor. James would never do something to a fellow student without being shamelessly provoked. Even than…"
"Mr. Black." The voice chilled the air around them. "If you think I am not aware of your own record of making trouble…"
"But it doesn't mean he is guilty of this specific trouble…" Remus' clear eyes looked up at Professor McGonagall, daring her to contradict him. She didn't. What she did was to take a firm step closer to them. In the face of the danger Sirius suddenly realised that he still had the Original Curses for self-defence in his pocket and could think of nothing better than to pass it over to the only one of them who was still clean.
Little Peter gave a loud yelp when he felt something being pressed in his hands and threw it on the floor as if it were a spider. Professor McGonagall's hammering gaze turned to him. Peter went pink under her stare, his hands shook and the only thing he could manage was "It wasn't me!" before tears started to flow from his eyes. The teacher stared at him in shock, than something similar to remorse crossed her face and she caressed his head, causing steams of tears to get stronger. With a sigh, she muttered that they were dismissed and turned around. Without looking at one another everyone run.
They didn't stop before they reached the sanctuary of their dormitory, dropping on James' bed and recovering their breath.
"Brilliant! Eternal praise and gratitude to you, or great Peter, for discovering the secret weapon against McGonagall. Our lives are yours forever." Sirius' hand clapped him on the shoulder. "Can you do that wherever you want?" He asked more soberly.
"I lost you book." Peter answered. His eyes were still red and puffy, but a timid smile appeared on his round face.
"Don't worry. Nobody can prove it belonged to us." Interjected Remus and let himself fall on the bed between James and Sirius.
"It was too simple for our incredible intellect anyway!" Said James, and in the excitement of the moment even forgot to kick himself for having such thoughts.
"I am going to love this school." Said Sirius, and there was a very devilish grin on his face.
A/N: this is a story I wrote in one day purely on inspiration. I'll post a beta-ed version sometime in the future. If you like it, and if you want me to make a series out of it let me know. And for everyone who is waiting for the next chapter of Born from Ashes (plug, plug, plug) and is cursing my name for writing this instead -> I'm working on it full speed. After so many month with the story I needed some distance to get things into perspective. It should be there in a couple of days, so hold on.