James groaned as the feeling of the world shaking overtook his body. He promptly snatched his covered and pulled them over his head in sleep-deprived defiance.
"Come on you git. We're going to miss breakfast." Dean muttered, prodding his new friend once again. "I thought you were an early riser."
"I am." came James' sleepy reply as he stumbled out of bed. "What time is it?"
"Nearly eight thirty. We have our first class at nine." That seemed to catch his attention and the eleven year old threw himself out of bed and rushed to get ready.
Snatching their book bags, the first years dashed down the stairs, determined not to miss out on their first ever Hogwarts breakfast. In fact, James was running so fast that he didn't even notice the puff of white smoke until he had already gone straight through it.
"Ugh." He groaned, shaking himself off from what seemed to look like flour. Dean chuckled at his fellow Gryffindor's predicament.
"Well I do beg your pardon!" Came a voice behind him. Turning around, the boys gasped at the translucent figure of what looked to be a portly man.
"Whoa. You're a real live ghost!" Dead, stated pointing at him as if to accuse the ghost otherwise.
"Well, I wouldn't quick say live, now would I?" The ghost sighed. "They call me the Fat Friar."
"Well you said it, not me." James grinned, before introducing himself. "They call me James Potter."
"Great Scott, indeed you are!" The ghost gasped. "You look every bit as much as your father! I-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm practically Harry Potter 2.0." He cut off the Fat Friar, impatient and hungry. "But I'm starving and we're late to breakfast. Where's the Great Hall again?"
He could've sworn he saw the ghost roll his eyes before pointing to the boy's right. Muttering a thanks, he and Dean dove off in that direction.
The clanging of plates and chatter of students came to his ears and he spun to their left, entering the Great Hall. Only when James reached his friends and family, did he skid to a stop and squeeze between Thomas and Logan with Dean hopping in across the table.
"Morning you lot, how's the food?" He greeted the crew of Gryffindors as he quickly loaded up his plate.
"Where have you been mate?" Logan asked him. "We thought you got swallowed up by the giant squid or something."
"They have one of those?"
"That's what my brother tells me anyway."
"Wicked."
James chose that moment to load himself up with pancakes, syrup and bacon, making it a point to admire the cooking. Who made all this stuff anyway? Shaking it his head, he simply wrote it off as magic and continued eating.
But what he couldn't write off was the sight of Roxanne over at the Hufflepuff Table. She sat further away from the rest of her house, choosing to spear her eggs in silence.
He bit his lip, contemplating going over there himself. It simply didn't make sense that Roxy of all people would end up in Hufflepuff of all houses. She was simply too rebellious, too headstrong, too well like Gryffindor.
He made a note in his head to talk to her about it later that day.
"So what's our first class?" Dean mumbled through a mouthful of pancakes. James glanced down to his time table.
"Transfiguration."
After stuffing their faces for a couple more minutes, it dawned upon the four boys that none of them actually knew where the transfiguration classroom was. A quick pestering of a very annoyed Dominique later ("You're going to be late for your first class. How rude."), the group set off towards the west side of the castle.
And to their credit, they arrived just in the nick of time. All the seats had been taken in the front however, so they soon separated into the remaining ones in the back. James begrudgingly sat next to the blonde girl and the two shared a quick glare before the professor began to speak.
"Good morning first years." Professor Rowan greeted them with an expectant smile. "As you all know by now, my name is Professor Rowan and I am here to teach you about the art of Transfiguration."
"Unlike Charms, this branch of magic is very exact. One must be strong-minded and determined when performing transfiguration or the spell may have disastrous results. Now there are four main branches of transfiguration. Can anyone care to tell me what they are?"
The class went on to discuss the foundation of transfiguration and its practical applications. While James didn't particularly enjoy the history behind the class, he did admire the practicality of it. Of course, things got much more interesting when Professor Rowan announced that they would be practicing their first transfiguration spell today: transfiguring a match into a needle.
It sounded simple enough to James and he was more than eager to test out his beloved new wand. With a flick of his wrist, he aimed his wand at the small match and was much too disappointed to see that it had barely moved. Even worse, the blonde girl's match had at least turned silver in color.
"I think you sort of need to visualize it in your head." She mumbled helpfully, her eyes never wavering from the metallic match in front of her. "I'm Tessa by the way." James scoffed.
"Your match is hardly a needle yet." He teased and Tessa narrowed her eyes in annoyance.
"Good bit further along than yourself I supposed." She retorted with a roll of her eyes.
The two first years proceeded to glare and attempt to outdo each other for the rest of the class. While none of the new witches or wizards managed to do a perfect transfiguration, Tessa appeared to be one of the further along. Despite showing promise himself, James quickly decided that Transfiguration was not nearly as important as Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms, classes he was sure he would fare much better than Tessa in.
At the end of the period, Professor Rowan was met with a couple groans upon assigning their first homework, but all in all, it wasn't a horrid class either. After all, working with Ravenclaws was much preferable to working with Slytherins.
Indeed, James appeared to be much more a natural at Charms, where the mindset allowed him to be much more creative than Transfiguration. History of Magic, however, was possibly the most abysmal hour the young wizard had ever had to endure. The only reason he had managed to stay awake was because he could sit next to Dean and swap notes back and forth.
By the time that dinner had rolled around, the allure of Hogwarts had started to fade and the dawning realization of schoolwork began to set in. Nonetheless, James was still grateful to be there for magic was magic, no matter how dull the thought of writing essays was about it.
It wasn't until he was leaving the dining hall with a belly full of treacle tart that James was able to detect a sniffling sound to his right. Glancing around the remaining students, he walked a bit closer to a nearby broom cupboard. The sound persisted.
Not entirely sure what to expect, the Gryffindor in him told him to keep his wand at the ready, nevermind that his range of spells was limited. He ripped the door open, wand aimed high, and was utterly surprised to see Roxanne Weasley of all people.
"Roxy, what the devil are you doing in a broom cupboard?" he demanded, closing the door behind him to give them some privacy. It wasn't until he lit a match he had pocked from transfiguration into a lantern close by that he could actually get a proper look at his cousin.
Tears streaked down her caramel cheeks and her curly hair was a mess, hastily pulled back in a half-hazard ponytail. The very imaged shocked James, as he couldn't accurately remember the last time he had seen Roxanne cry.
"What does it matter anyway?" She snapped, glaring at her bronze and yellow tie in utter disgust. "I've disgraced the good Weasley name anyway. I mean Hufflepuff? Really?"
"It's not that bad of a house-"
"But I'm supposed to be in Gryffindor James!" The girl interrupted, clenching her fists as if she were ready to fight the sorting hat itself. "We were supposed to rule the school together! What's to happen to me now that I'm stuck at a bloody Hufflepuff? Merlin, we can't even be on the same Quidditch team now."
The mere mention of Quidditch sent several more tears pouring down her eyes and James felt a wave of sympathy for her. After all, they had been planning their adventures all summer. Not entirely sure what to do with a sobbing girl, he awkwardly patted her back.
"I'll be honest. I haven't a clue as to why that hat sorted your into Hufflepuff." He told her. "But I know you and you aren't meant to this miserable. You're much too brilliant and brave for that, Puff or not."
"You really think I'm brilliant and brave?" She sniffled, rubbing one of her eyes.
"Well not as much as me, but a close second." James grinned cheekily. "But we can't have you getting all girly and weepy on me now."
This earned a massive eye roll and a punch to the shoulder. Good. She was back.
"We'll see who's all girly and weepy when I get onto the Quidditch team before you can say bludger." She muttered, offering him a hesitant smile. Relieved to see the old Roxy showing up, James managed to talk her into going up to her own common room for the evening, but not before promising her they would find a way to sneak into the kitchens later that week.
James sighed. This was certainly shaping up to be an interesting first year.