Horace Slughorn, the Potions master, was truly the most unusual person James had ever seen.
He was big and rotund, dressed in billowing purple robes which he purposely flourished as he walked. When James had walked into his classroom he had let out a squeak of delight, rushing forward and grasping his hand.
"My boy, how good it is to finally meet you! I've been meaning to come round for dinner for ages now, but something always seems to come up, doesn't it? Anyways, your father is careful to send me a Christmas card every year, and your darling mother of course. Set me up very nicely with a box seat at every Holyhead Harpies game she was ever in. Shame about her retirement, she was spectacular. Suppose it was for the best, eh, boy?"
"Oh, well-" James began, but was immediately cut off.
"And I suppose you're a chip off the old block, yes? Quite the family legacy you've got. You know, your grandmother was my favorite student before your father. And of course he's been so generous to me since. You never forget your favorite teacher, do you?"
"No, I guess-" James was cut off once again by Slughorn.
"Of course you'll be invited to the meetings, yes I must arrange one musn't I? Nothing fancy, just a little get together I like to throw for certain students," he turned and faced the rest of the class, who by now were all staring with their mouths agape.
"Perhaps more than one of you will be invited!" Slughorn threw his arms open, the sleeves of his robes barely missing the heads of several students.
Slughorn took no notice of the obvious lack of enthusiasm at this statement, instead, he rubbed his hands together and began to give instructions, "Now I've placed each of your names in front of a station and so you'll be sitting there this year. Get going! We haven't got all day, have we? Although I suppose it would be nice if we did."
Continuing his non-stop stream of chatter, Slughorn made his way around the room taking inventory of his students. There were several names he recognized, and he was careful to mark out these students and tempt them with the possibility of an invite to one of his "little gatherings".
He stopped in front of James' table, which he shared with Rebecca.
"Now we've already met, yes," Slughorn turned from James and bowed politely to Rebecca.
"And what's your name, my dear?"
"Rebecca Sims."
"Sims? I don't recognize that last name. Curious, I do remember most everyone who comes through my classroom," Slughorn pursed his lips thoughtfully. "You're in my house, aren't you? But surely you aren't a muggleborn in Slytherin?"
He said this last statement as if it were not just unthinkable, but completely unacceptable.
Rebecca shifted uneasily, "I come from pureblood families, my parents just never went to Hogwarts."
"I don't-" Slughorn paused and studied her thoughtfully. "You know, I do think I recognize you. There's a resemblance there. Come now, dear, help me out. What were your parents' names again?"
"They never went to Hogwarts, you wouldn't know them," Rebecca said with finality.
"Just the same," Slughorn looked at her carefully and Rebecca tried to discreetly avert her eyes. "I'm sure I know at least one of your relations. It's strange but you look almost as if you were, well, we won't go there. No."
And shaking his head he turned to go, then changed his mind and turned back, "Well I might as well ask. Does the name 'Black' mean anything to you?"
"No."
Slughorn smiled sadly, "Ah, no, of course not. Very silly of me. But you said you don't recognize the name so no harm done then, yes? Sorry, my dear, this old brain of mine gets confused."
And with that he was off to the next table, where he let out a gasp of delight and began shaking Lucas Wood's hand with such vigor that James was surprised his arm didn't come out of the socket.
"What a strange man," he turned to Rebecca, who still was visibly shaken from her encounter with Slughorn. "You know, I think I recognize the name 'Black' but I don't know why."
"I don't recognize it at all," Rebecca sniffed, needlessly shifting her cauldron slightly to the left.
"I guess I don't either," James shook his head.
An awkward silence descended over the table. Rebecca stared straight ahead, a blank look on her face. She seemed determined to entirely ignore James, much to his frustration.
"Are you going to do that all class?" he snapped.
"Do what?"
"Ignore me."
"If I don't want to talk to you, that's my own business. Why don't you worry about something more important instead of me."
James puffed up, "The last thing I'm worried about it you. My cousin was right, Slytherins are all pinheads."
Rebecca let out a harsh laugh, "You are unbelievable. Everybody's been nice so far. I know that Slytherin gets a bad rep, but it's completely undeserved."
"Well then why do they even have it in the first place?" James challenged her, regaining his initial gutsiness.
"Jealousy," Rebecca said superiorly. "Everybody knows that we're the house to beat."
Now it was James' turn to laugh, "Oh, come off it. Slytherin sucks."
"Says who?"
"Say everyone!"
"Oh yeah? Well who's everyone?"
"My cousin Dominique told me, and she's a third year," James added the last part rather proudly, as if it proved the credibility of his source.
Rebecca went red in the face, "Well what does she know? She's not even in Slytherin!"
"Well she's been here longer than you have," James replied, "So I think she knows more about who the good and bad houses are."
"Your cousin's a fool and so are you!"
James' face flushed, "You're the fool! All I wanted to do was talk to you but I'm never making that mistake again!"
"Well I guess that makes this the greatest day of my life," Rebecca hissed, and then she turned and stared at the board intensely, despite the fact that Slughorn had written nothing on it.
James was still fuming by the time Slughorn finished making his rounds. Him and Rebecca had not even made eye contact, let alone spoken to each other.
Slughorn waddled up to the board, and with a flourish of his wand, it was immediately filled with neat, cursive instructions.
"We don't have very much time, do we?" Slughorn mused, as if he hadn't been the one spending the better part of the class making connections. "So we'll be doing something simple and quick. A weak sleepiness draught. The real stuff is much more advanced and can knock you out cold, but this stuff will at least make you drowsy."
He beamed brightly at his students, "Those who make the best potions will win a fabulous prize!" Slughorn winked at James as he said this, earning an eye roll from Rebecca. "Your ingredients are in the cupboard under your stations. Begin!"
Squinting as he tried to make out the written instructions on the board, James began to rifle through the pile of ingredients. He wished someone had bothered to organize everything.
Next to him, Rebecca had evidently found whatever she needed, and was serenely adding a few drops of a nasty green liquid to her cauldron. James finally emerged from the cupboard victorious, and with everything he needed.
Slughorn paced around the room, making comments and notes as he passed each student. He seemed displeased with most of what he was seeing, only Lucas earned a half-hearted nod. It wasn't until he got to James' station that he stopped and gasped.
"Oh, and I was right! Truly talent runs in the family. That is exactly the shade of violet it's supposed to be! One more ingredient, yes, boy?"
James unceremoniously dumped the last of his ingredients in, and his potion bubbled violently until it changed into an eggplant-like color.
Slughorn clapped delightedly, "Oh wonderful! Take five points, Gryffindor!"
He then moved over to Rebecca's section, and sucked in his breath.
James peeked over Slughorn's shoulder to look at Rebecca's potion. It was a purple so deep it was almost black, and the surface of the potion had a shimmering quality to it.
"My goodness," Slughorn whispered, "this is something incredible. Is this your first try at potions Miss Sims?"
Rebecca shrugged, "I help my mom in the kitchen a lot, so this feels like second nature."
"It looks like second nature!" Slughorn exclaimed. "Easily the best results of today. Take fifteen points, Slytherin!"
He then moved onto the next station, already lamenting about how nothing could come close to Rebecca's potion.
Slowly she turned to face James, "Like I said," she smirked, "Slytherin is the house to beat."
And James' entire face turned the same color purple as his potion.
