James and Remus found their way to an empty compartment in the back, where they met
Remus's friend, Peter Pettigrew. James noticed that Peter was a short boy with curly blond hair
and a face that somehow resembled a rat. "Hey Peter, this is my friend James Potter." said
Remus. "Hi", Peter said nervously. James threw himself onto the chair and promptly begun his
favorite conversation by saying "Hey, do any of you guys like Quidditch?" A smile broke out
Peter's face, "Love it." James went on excitedly, "I'm thinking of trying out for Seeker in second
year, I've played a lot with my cousins, and they say I'm pretty good at it. Sure wish they let us
play in first year." Remus laughed "I couldn't ride a broomstick if u attached me to the dumb
thing. But I love watching it." He threw his arm around the back of the seat, and as he did it his
robe slid down to his elbow. "Hey, Remus, what happened to your arm?" He pointed to four
jagged scars on his arm. "Nothing." said Remus as he nervously pushed down his sleeve. His
face went pale and he looked as if he was going to be sick. "You alright, Remus?" said Peter.
Suddenly the loud yell of "Everyone out of the train, we're at Hogwarts!" distracted the two
boys from Remus's arm. Remus stepped out of the compartment gratefully and gave a sigh of
relief as he held his maimed arm nervously. As the three friends climbed out of the train they
gazed up at the magnificent site. Hogwarts castle was huge and gleaming, stretching up to the
heavens. And the glistening lake before it expanded as far as the eye could see. "Wow" said
Peter softly. "Yeah, never thought it would be this big." Commented James as a group of
haughty boys pushed past them. Slytherins, James mused. He could tell by the tall blond boy
that strode confidently in the front, he had seen him before and knew his dad disliked the boy's
father very much. He didn't recognize the other ones, wait no he did recognize the two in the
back, they were Blacks. Blacks were easily noticed by their handsome and dark features. As
the smaller one walked uncertainly past him, the boy tripped and fell, knocking over James
suitcase.
"Watch it, Slytherin scum!" James yelled. The boy scrambled to his feet. "What the heck? I
haven't even been sorted yet! What makes you think I'll be in Slytherin?" The boy retorted.
"Cuz you're a Black and all Blacks are in Slytherin. They all are bigheaded purebloods full of
dark magic! They all belong in Azkaban!" James shouted angrily. The boy opened his mouth to
object, but a huge man pulled him aside crying "Firs' years, over here!" They were pulled apart,
both glowering at each other. James allowed himself to be led to a boat still fuming. "James,
what was that all about? Why did you blow up at that kid?" asked Remus. "Nothin!" yelled
James. He hated the dark arts, and he hated Slytherins and all that had to do with them. And he
didn't feel like talking about why. It all began on such a happy day, just three years ago, two
days before he turned 8. He remembered it like it was yesterday, remembered every little detail,
every little thing. He had just finished a game of Midget- Quidditch, and his team had won a
great victory, he had caught the snitch, winning the game! He had just transported by Floo
Powder back to his house, flustered and excited. When he and his mom reached their house, he
bounded around the living room, full of happiness! His dad was coming home from a business
trip for the Ministry today! And he would have great news to give him! His dad would be so
proud, he always wanted James to do well in quidditch, he had been a Keeper in his years at
Hogwarts. He climbed up the couch and jumped off, imagining himself at the world cup,
thousands of people were yelling the name, James Potter! James Potter! "JAMES HENRY
POTTER! How many times have I told u NOT to climb on the furniture, now come and eat
some supper!" "Alright," James grumbled as he walked to the table to eat. James was chattering
ceaselessly as usual, bouncing up and down in his chair from excitement when suddenly they
heard a loud pop and a man with a large droopy mustache from the Ministry appeared. "Hello
Mrs. Potter, I am Zachary Finnigan from the Ministry of Magic." The man said. "Hello Mr.
Finnigan," she said and waited for him to continue. Mr. Finnigan seemed as if he could not get
the words out, "Uh, Mrs. Potter, I regret to inform you that Mr. Henry William Potter was
injured defending muggles during a muggle raid." James felt his heart plummet as his mother
gasped, "Not Henry!" Mr. Finnigan went on, "He was subjected under the Cruciatis Curse and
sustained heavy damage to his right leg. Although the leg will heal, he may have a limp the rest of
his life." Here he faltered, unwilling to continue. "Will there be any permanent damage due to the
curse?" Mrs. Potter asked. Mr. Finnigan replied "It looks as there might be a little brain
damage, but we're not positive. Henry has a strong mind though; I think with the proper
treatment his mind will remain normal. I'm not promising anything though." Mrs. Potter
summoned up the courage to speak. "Thank you Mr. Finnigan, and when will Henry be able to
return?" "Two weeks, at the most. Goodbye, Mrs. Potter." He disappeared with a pop. James
remembered how his mother took him upstairs and put him to bed instantly. He had cried
himself to sleep. His father had never been the same after that. His mind was fine, he was a
brilliant man, but he seemed tired somehow, withdrawn. He walked with a limp and he didn't l
augh like he used to. He spent the majority of his time reading and studying magical theory, he
couldn't play Quidditch with James anymore because of his leg. James remembered how that
sadness had changed to anger, how he had hated the dark arts with everything inside of him and
how he had vowed to himself to stand up against it.