As-Sorted Marauder's

Chapt. 2 -- James Potter's Comforting Thought

By Jill Weber/Jelsemium

Disclaimer: This story use J.K. Rowling's characters without permission or intent to make a profit.

Dedicated to: Alarum, Jen, auroraziazan, Sunpixie, Chary, Ozma, A.L. de Sauveterre, Green Eyed Lady and werechick for reviewing Chapter One!

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James stared, dry eyed, out the train window at a world gone cold and grey. The eleven year old boy wasn't familiar with the word 'irony,' but he was now acquainted with the concept. For the last couple of years he'd been longing to go off to Hogwarts. Now, all he wanted was to go home.

Tap, tap, tap… "Well, would you look at that! Won't your father be pleased when he gets home! We'll have your favorite dinner tonight! And treacle tart for desert!"

"Something from the cart, dearie?" a slender witch with a kind smile was at the door. James shook his head. "No, thank you," he said with drilled in good manners. "I'm not hungry."

The food cart witch's eyes were pools of sympathy. She'd seen dozens of homesick children over the years. "Well, if you change your mind, dearie, I'll be up front with the driver."

"Yes'm," James sighed. He'd lied to his Mum. He told her that he'd eat something on the train, but he just couldn't bring himself to try. He went back to staring out the window.

Dad worked late that night. Long hours was the bad side of being a mediwizard.

"Can I wait up for him, Mum? Please?"

"No, Jamesie, it's late and all good little boys should go to sleep…"

Two boys, one lean and black haired, the other plump and fair haired, burst into his compartment.

"Whoa, almost got caught that time," the black haired boy laughed. "Here, have a chocolate frog."

The fair-haired boy accepted. James, not realizing he was included in the invitation, stared silently out the window.

The black haired boy nudged him. "Oi, you hungry? Want a frog?" he held up a box. "Good for whatever ails you."

James gave him a steady look. "No." was all he said.

The black haired boy blinked his pale blue eyes and looked at his friend. The fair-haired boy just shrugged. "Every flavor bean?" the black haired boy said. "I mean, not every flavor, just a few of them."

James shook his head again and looked out the window.

"I'm Sirius Black. This is Peter Pettigrew."

"James Potter."

"You hungry? We can get you something," the blond boy, Peter, said. He sounded anxious, but James didn't look.

"No, thank you," he said absently.

The other two boys continued talking, but James had stopped listening to them. In his mind he was back home…

Good little boys? Well, that left him out, didn't it? James was in bed, but wide awake. He had his coreless baby wand with him. It used to shoot off sparks, but James had worn it out until all it gave off now was a soft glow, too dim to be seen outside his room, but enough light to read by.

Tonight he wasn't reading his Quidditch comics, he was rereading the letter that had arrived only hours ago.

"Dear Mr. Potter, we are pleased to inform you…"

After a while, the boys left. A few minutes later, the door opened again. "Is it all right if I sit in here?" a female voice asked. "Everywhere else is crowded."

James nodded without looking around.

A few more voices joined the first girl, but James didn't pay any attention. Unlike the earlier intruders, the girls seemed to understand that he needed to be left alone.

Dad would be so proud. He'd told James all about Hogwarts and how much fun it had been. Dad's stories were even better than Quidditch comics!

James blinked when he heard a tap on the front door. Had Daddy forgotten the key spell? Oh, how funny! James slid out from his bed. He'd sneak down to see what Mum had to say about this. Then, he'd run over to his father and they'd both laugh. Mum would scold them both, but she'd laugh, too.

He paused on the stairs, out of sight of the door, as Mum went to answer. He madly wanted to show his Dad the letter…

"Mrs. Potter? Mrs. Tiberius Potter? The Ministry regrets to inform you…"

But he'd never get the chance. His Dad had been treating the victims of a black magic attack when the criminals had burst into St. Mungo's to silence the witnesses. Naturally, Dr. Potter had tried to defend his patients.

The train ride went by in a blur. The marauding boys would barge in every so often to offer treats all around, or to tease the girls, or to just make a nuisance of themselves. James barely noticed when the red-headed girl finally lost her temper "Leave him alone! Can't you see he wants to be alone!" she shrieked, eyes and wand sparking dangerously as chased the boys out for good.

He followed the other first years to the boats, too apathetic to notice Black's attempts to scare the redhead with tales of fire-eating rites of passage. He knew what was waiting for them… the Sorting Hat, just like his Dad had described it.

He paid no attention to the sorting, until a sharp-featured, sallow skinned boy poked him. "Are you Potter? It's your turn!"

James walked up to the stool and Prof. McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

"Well, now, I'm sorry to hear about your father, dear boy," the Hat said in sympathetic tones. "He would have been proud that you were accepted in Hogwarts."

"Thank you," James said. "But I don't want to go to Hogwarts anymore. I want to go home." His eyes stung and he squeezed them shut. He couldn't go home, he didn't have one anymore.

"You will always have a home where people love you," the Hat said calmly. "And your mother will always love you."

James bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. "No, s-she doesn't… not any more."

"You are mistaken. I can see how you can misinterpret her reactions, but I remember your mother well. She has the heart of a Hufflepuff. It's only pain that makes her seem so cold and distant right now. She does still love you."

James swallowed. "Are you sure?" he asked forlornly.

"I am sure," the Hat said firmly. "As I am sure that will do well here. There is healing in these halls as well as learning. And you might be surprised to find that many people here already care for you."

A memory popped to the front of James mind, like someone had pulled it out of a hat. He remembered the redhead who had chased out the aggravating pair. He also remembered the antics of the two boys and suddenly realized why they had kept coming back to his compartment. They'd been trying, in their own clumsy way, to cheer him up.

"I… thank you," James said. "I just wish I could see him, just once more."

The Hat's voice became warmer. "Now that is something I can help you with. Close your eyes."

James squeezed his eyes tighter and held his breath. "No, don't hold your breath. Breathe, gently, now."

James took a shallow breath, and suddenly… it was the same Great Hall, with the enchanted ceiling he hadn't even noticed on his way in. There was a short line of students still waiting to be sorted. There was no way to tell what time period it was; the Hogwarts' uniform hadn't changed substantially in over a thousand years. However, James thought he recognized one boy with close cropped black hair and laughing grey eyes.

"Potter, Tiberius," Deputy Headmaster Dumbledore read from the scroll.

Tiberius Potter bounced to the stool, and James could see the hat sliding over his eyes. Then… oh, bliss… he could feel his father all around him like a warm hug. He could feel his father's excitement at being at Hogwarts and the way Tiberius' stomach was alternately rumbling with hunger and twisting with nervousness.

On a deeper level, beyond what he could have ever imagined, he felt other things about his father: His love of life, his eagerness to learn, his desire to make friends, his sympathy for his fellow, homesick first years. And underlying all of that, the way a skeleton lies under the skin and bones…

Before he could fully identify the feeling, James was back in his own head. "Is that, was that… courage?" James whispered in awe. "Was my father brave?"

"Yes, my boy," the Hat said. "He was intelligent, and kind, and loyal, but most of all, he was brave. You are very much like him, in fact. You two would have been great friends, had you attended school together."

"Thank you," whispered James and he reached up to remove the Hat.

"Hang on there, don't you want to know what house you're in?" the Hat sounded amused.

"Oops."

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the sorting hat.

James took the hat off and took a deep breath. He was like his father? He and his father would have been great friends? With that comforting thought, James Potter went to sit down at the Gryffindor table.

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A/N:

Alarum, Jen, auroraziazan, Sunpixie – Thanks for the kind words! (And extra thanks to auroraziazan for directing Green Eyed Lady here!)

Chary, Ozma, A.L. de Sauveterre – Thanks for letting me know which lines you particularly liked. I'm glad that my characterization seemed right to you!

Green Eyed Lady: Thanks for pointing out the overuse of 'timidly.' No, I didn't say how Remus knew there'd be silverware. As you can see, I've fixed the first chapter.

Thanks to werechick for the schnoogles! I liked the 'ask the dishes' line, too!