James stared at his new mates in silence. You could have heard a penny drop.

That was until he burst out in laughter.

"That's rich!" He gasped out between laughs, clutching his side in pain. He leaned back on the edge of his bed, managing to tip himself over in a fit of giggles. "Oh wow, you lot really know how to pull someone's wand."

But after a few more minutes of nonstop hysterics, James finally realized that he was indeed the only one who had been laughing. The other three boys stared at him in utmost alarm.

"We're not joking, James." Logan told him seriously, his eyes looking down at his new roommate with slight concern.

Glancing about the bewildered looks of his fellow first years, James finally stopped laughing enough to shoot them all a very doubtful look.

"You mean to tell me that my dad, a man who can't even keep track of his own socks, is some war hero?" The eleven year old chuckled at the thought. "You're all barking mad."

"We're serious James!" Thomas piped up, blonde curled swaying as he popped up onto James' bed. "Harry Potter saved the world after his defeat of you-know-who!"

"Look mate, I'm sorry, but this is all complete bullocks." James responded, throwing his hands in the air. "I mean sure. I guess dad's job is pretty cool and all, and he knows some bloody amazing Quidditch players, but that's the end of it. None of this you-know-what's-it stuff."

"But-"

"No." He cut in, setting his wand on his nightstand. "Now that's enough of that. It's our first night in Hogwart's. Let's enjoy it, yeah?"

So after his insistence, James managed to hush up any further talk about his father. Instead, they chose to play a couple rounds of exploding snap.

James was pleasantly surprised that they were harder opponents than Albus, who was usually subjected to the game whenever his older brother demanded so. After they had all sustain enough burnt fingers and traded a few chocolate frog cards, it wasn't long before the night grew long and the boys found themselves tucking in for bed.

After shoving his exploding snap board under his bed in typical eleven year old fashion, James turned to his left and then his right. Indeed, all three boys had fall asleep rather quickly and none of them appeared to be light sleepers. If Logan's snoring was any confirmation, James was pretty sure he could unleash a heard of hippogriffs in their bedroom without him waking up.

Standing up, the young Potter made his was over to the window, glancing out into the star-covered night. His room had a rather impressive view of the Forbidden Forest and he absentmindedly pondered what creatures could be lurking about.

Could there be centaurs? Vampires? Manticores? The possibilities were endless, he supposed. Despite there being the word forbidden in its very title, James made a mental note to do some exploring once he picked up on a few spells from Defense Against the Dark Arts.

What if he was able to battle a dragon in those woods? Common sense told him that dragons were much more prevalent in Romania where his Uncle Charlie resided, but one could never be too sure. Such an act of bravery would surely get him an award or something, perhaps even a permanent spot on the Quidditch team. He wondered if his dad had ever come across a dragon during his time as an auror. Probably not.

The boy sighed. Thinking of his father brought on a whole sea of other thoughts, including the many whispers he had heard during the sorting and the preposterous things his roommates had tried to convince him of tonight. Surely, he would have known if his father was some grandiose war hero? Of course, that wasn't something one could casually mention at the breakfast table either, he supposed.

But still. His father? The man who was ready to chew his son's ear off the second he even thought of something slightly dangerous. Harry Potter may have been Head Auror, but the riskiest thing James had ever seen him do in his life was attempt to take on his mother in a game of Quidditch.

A smile crossed his face upon remembering that day. Being the former quidditch player that she was, Ginny Potter had absolutely destroyed him and for once, James had been relieved to be on his mother's team.

The boy pursed his lips as another feeling entered his mind, the kind of feeling that he prided himself on not having. Homesickness. It hadn't even been a full day and he was already missing his family. Shaking his head as if to rid himself of the emotion, James resigned himself to write them a letter. For their sake rather than his of course.

Dear Mum & Dad,

Hogwarts is bloody amazing! I can't believe you didn't tell me about it sooner! We arrived by boats and the castle is huge and there's a talking hat and the Great Hall has no ceiling! Seriously, what happens when it rains?

Anyway, yours truly got himself into GRYFFINDOR! Where the brave dwell at heart! I told you I would get sorted there! And I have a new mate named Dean Spinnet. He says his aunt used to play Quidditch with you both. He got into Griffindor too, of course. We both want to try out for the team.

Unfortunately, Roxy...well, she sort of kind of got sorted into Hufflepuff. But that's a mistake right? Roxy is the bravest out of all of us, aside from me of course. And we've been planning all our adventures all summer! Surely, the hat can change its mind.

That's not the only strange thing going on thought. My roommates said dad is some kind of war hero. Mad right? They kept talking up all this "chosen one" stuff. It's obviously bullocks right?

Hope you lot are doing well. Try not to perish without me.

Your favorite Gryffindor,

James S. Potter

Feeling a bit better, he folded up the newly written letter and decided that he would mail it in the morning with one of the Hogwarts owls. Although he could have easily sent it with Felix, it would give him an excuse to figure out where the owlery was. A yawn escaped the first year's mouth and a glance at the clock confirmed that it was definitely time for bed.

With the russet curtains draw, James pulled the Gryffindor red covers up to his chin, practically smothering himself with them as if to verify that he really was in the house of the lions. That he really was at Hogwarts.

All of the things his fellow first years had said about his dad couldn't be true. At least, that was the last thought running through his head before he too succumbed to sleep.