Chapter 1: Bird's-Eye View
August 25, 1994
Say what you will about wizards and witches but no one can't deny they know how to throw a party. That's what Quidditch World Cup is. One giant party.
I walk between thousands of tents with the Weasleys, Hermione, Neville, Sirius, and Remus; and by Merlin, this is magnificent. Everywhere I look, people of different origins lose themselves in the excitement, celebrating and I have no idea what they are celebrating yet. I don't think they do either. This is not about just Quidditch anymore.
These people are drinking and horsing around like there is no tomorrow or there is no Quidditch match this evening. There are men lying on the ground, passed out drunk, and it's only noon. Children of all ages running around reenacting their favourite parts of past games. People bet on who will win the game, play pickup matches with complete strangers, cook meat with unholy amounts of fat in it on grills...
There is no order. There is only chaos and I love it. It's colourful and alive. It's everything magic is.
Our dysfunctional family make their way to where our tents are. One borrowed from Mr Weasley's friend, the other rented by Sirius. We are a group of thirteen in total. Even with the best of wizarding tents, it will be a tight fit tonight.
The rented tent is all ready when we reach our destination but the Weasley tent is not and Mr Weasley insists we do it 'the Muggle way'. He says the Ministry is adamant that everyone has to act in accordance with the Secrecy rules.
That must be a joke that Mr Weasley took too seriously because… I mean… People are flying in the air on broomsticks with colourful fumes coming out of their arses for goodness' sake!
Ron points in every which direction and rolls his eyes. Even in the best of times, magical people have trouble with being inconspicuous but when you put a hundred thousand of them together, you may as well say 'fuck the secrecy'.
Mr Weasley sends the quartet, as some call us, to get water from a nearby well.
I can feel Ron's complaints before even he opens his mouth so I drag him off before he can run his big mouth off. After we put some distance between ourselves and Mr Weasley, I turn to the redhead. "Ron, the man loves Muggles. He wants to pretend to be one for this once. Let him have his moment."
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts, Ron. The man busts his balls at work for you all day every day. This one thing, you can do without complaint. Besides, we can use magic. We only have to make him think we are 'Muggle-ing' the shit out of this."
Hermione comes to my rescue. "I agree with James. But still, language!"
I roll my eyes at her. "Hermione, don't you ever tire of acting all prim and proper? Swearing once in a while is good for the soul."
"Of course not. There is no need for you to speak in such a brutish, uncivilised manner."
I shake my head, take Hermione's arm and drag her towards the water-well to stop her from continuing this needless debate. The other two follows behind.
A few minutes into our adventure, Neville slips and headbutts the dirt. "I think I stepped on puke."
"Nothing a little 'Evanesco' won't fix, mate."
Hermione slaps my arms. "We are not allowed to use magic outside of school."
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Hermione. Look around you. A hundred thousand people will attend this game. Do you really think the Ministry can track underage wizards in this crowd?"
Ron nods and adds, "Besides, Ministry can't even track underage magical activity in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade."
We all look at Ron like he grew a second head. "What? I know things too."
"We know you do, Ron," Hermione says soothingly and more than a little condescendingly.
Neville waves his wand with not a little trepidation and cleans his shoes. We don't move for five minutes for an owl to show up.
"See, no owls." Hermione's brain kicks into gear as she considers the implications of this glitch in Underage Magic Tracking System™ and I can see a lecture brewing in that brilliant mind of hers so I push her forward.
This is so not the place to discuss the unfairness of the ministry's tracking policy.
We make our way to the well and return with a bucket of water in each. We spend the rest of the afternoon enjoying the festive mood and horsing around.
-JB-
The sky darkens, and it's time for us to make our way to the stadium. It's upsetting that we can't all watch the match together but life goes on. Ron throws me a jealous look because we get the best seats but says nothing. The five of us, Hermione, Neville, Remus, Sirius, and I, make our way to the top box.
Prime seats my ass. It's freezing up here. Warming charms on the seats helps but only marginally. But I have to admit, the view from here is great. The whole stadium is just under my feet and, honestly, whoever made this stadium did a wonderful job. More than a hundred thousand seats. Twenty large screens connected to omniculars to show highlights. The way the stands curve in to the pitch in the middle, then out again. Who knew British Ministry of Magic could do something well?
We take our seats and chat about the line-ups to pass time. The box slowly fills and the added body heat helps keep the cold at bay. I see the Minister make his way to the box with two other men, one is a tall, thin blonde, and the other is a short, burly man with thinning brown hair.
He sees me and smiles like a cat that got the canary. "James, dear boy, fancy seeing you here," his voice booms and he shakes my hand enthusiastically. I guess I left an impression on him with my enthusiastic show of spell-crafting.
"Good to see you too, Minister." I stand up and give a small bow respectfully. "May I introduce you to my father, Sirius Black?" I wave my hand towards Sirius and they shake hands. "Next to him is a family friend, Remus Lupin. Next, we have Neville Longbottom, a dear friend of mine. You probably know his grandmother. And this gorgeous lady is Hermione Granger, smartest witch of Hogwarts." I lean into the Minister's ear and stage whisper conspiratorially, "I'd watch out for her if I were you, Minister. She will be in your seat in two decades."
"Really?" He eyes Hermione as if to know where her smarts are, an opportunistic gleam in his eyes. Odd. "Why don't you send me an owl in a few months and we'll see if we can arrange a summer internship, my dear."
Hermione's cheeks redden and I can see she's excited by the idea. "But... I'm a Muggle-born..." she stammers.
"Muggleborn, schmuggle-born. There is always a place for the talented in the Ministry," he informs Hermione with a dismissive wave. I'd be lying if I say I am not surprised. Fudge never seemed like the guy to have, you know, opinions. "James, let me introduce Ministers Oblansk and Murdock. The Bulgarian and Irish Ministers of Magic, respectively. Gentlemen, James Black is one of our rising stars in Hogwarts."
I shake both men's hands and make to speak but am interrupted by a clearing of a throat. I turn to see Lucius Malfoy, his arm candy: Narcissa, and an example of why inbreeding is bad: Draco. "Ah, Mr Malfoy, it's good to see you here, sir. How is Dobby?" I ask him cheekily.
Ah, Dobby. One of my proudest achievements. It's not often one gets to steal Malfoys' house-elf. Well, not steal. Free. Dobby is a free elf and I pity anyone who tries to say otherwise because Dobby is a hyperactive ball of psychopathy. The dude has liberal ideas about what the word 'help' means. Anyway.
I can see Malfoy senior's anger rising and his fight to control it is admirable but all too obvious. I turn to the Minister and stage whisper, "I played a little prank on Mr Malfoy a couple years ago that resulted in his loss of a house-elf. I don't think he likes me very much since then."
Fudge's eyes widen in surprise and I can hear Sirius sniggering but ignore it. "Nonsense. I'm sure Lucius understands the trials of youth and being excited. It's good to see you, my friend." He shakes the blonde's hand and I lose interest in the proceedings.
"I should leave you to your politicking, Minister. I hope you enjoy the game."
"You too, James."
I return to my seat and my people. This will be a great night. I can feel it in my bones.
-JB-
I am considered a talented seeker by the people at Hogwarts. Compared to Krum, I am but a toddler. The man can play. I probably can fly as well as him, if not better thanks to my newfound animagus instincts, but as a seeker, he's in a whole other league. Hell, it's like we play two different games.
He didn't just chase the snitch; he interrupted plays; he drove the Irish seeker to the ground repeatedly. I can't decide if I want to play against him or I hope I never do.
The match is over. Krum got the snitch but Ireland won. Everyone around thinks Krum was an idiot for catching the ball when he did but I can understand his reasoning; he wanted to end his team's suffering. Irish chasers were making a mockery of the Bulgarian team. I mean hundred and seventeen to ten? Really?
Being a seer must be in my bones because I was right; it was a great night. The game was great. I may not enjoy Quidditch as much as Ron or Sirius do but when it's played right, it can be a damn good entertainment.
The game alone isn't the reason the night was great. Both team mascots put on a grand show. Bulgarians went for controversial. They had a dozen Veela as their mascots. It was funny to see people try to jump off their seats. Fudge... He almost humiliated the British magical government. Thankfully, I convinced him it was unbecoming of a minister to strip down in public. No one wants to see that!
He owes me a big time. I can still feel the Bulgarian Minister trying to put holes in my skull with his eyes. The Irish Minister stayed in his seat but barely. The Bulgarians definitely know how to play dirty.
The Irish went for home pride with Leprechauns, the tricky little buggers. I don't have the heart to tell Ron that Leprechaun gold is transfigured air. If that wasn't the case, the goblins would slaughter them all to the last man.
Now, we are back in the Weasley tent and watching Ron reenact Krum's best moves with sound effects and all. My boy is in love. The twins mock him and he transforms into a tomato.
You cannot not love this guy. He's all too easy to rile up.
I'm lying on the couch with my head on Hermione's thigh, enjoying a scalp massage from her. Neville is sitting on the armrest and stealing all too obvious glances to Ginny. I consider teasing him but choose not to. He's coming out of his shell. It wouldn't do any good to tease him back in to it.
Sirius, Remus, and Mr Weasley are at the table, drinking firewhisky and talking about this or that a little too seriously.
Charlie and Bill are on the couch next to the one I'm sitting. Bill is recounting one conquest or another, again. No, not tombs and such. Women.
I can feel the contempt Hermione radiates, and can sympathise.
Charlie, for his part, nods along and tries to change the subject. That dude is cool. He feels like an older brother I'd love to have. That's not to say he's not a stereotypical hot-blooded male. No, he tells a good story about his successes with the ladies as well but he knows how to tell it tastefully. Just last week, he made even Hermione laugh at one. Hell, I bet he could impress Dacia, the queen of all feminists.
Bill's are… let's just say I never knew there was that many positions and women seem to talk too much during sex. Whatever.
Percy is sitting apart from us looking like if he indulges in anything fun, the world might burn and frankly, I'm okay with that.
"Tell me, Mr Black, have you finished all your homework?" Hermione questions me in an eerily McGonagall-like voice.
"I finished the ones that matter," I drawl. I cross my fingers and hope she doesn't catch on.
"Which means you didn't finish them." From her tone, you'd think I killed someone and stashed their body in a dumpster after cutting it to manageable pieces.
"Must we do this now, sis? I hate potions and you know Snape will give me a Troll no matter how good I do. Binns doesn't even check if we did our homework. Why, oh, why, should I even bother with two subjects I won't be even taking after OWLs? The only reason I did the Herbology homework is that I like and respect Professor Sprout."
"James William Black!" Oh boy. Hermione used my full fake name. Abort mission. I repeat, abort mission. "No surprise you get abysmal scores when you don't even do your homework. How many times must we go over this? Teachers give us assignments for a reason. How can you learn if you don't do your assignments, for goodness' sake? You are getting off this couch and finishing your homework this instant!" She would've continued but even she needs to take a breath occasionally.
"Hermione, love, let's not argue."
"But-"
"Hermione, you know you won't win. Haven't you figured it out in the last three years you can't make James do anything he doesn't want to do?" Neville cuts in. My hero!
"Hey! I ate that god awful mini-trees Hermione insists are good for me the other day. I still haven't shat since then."
"James! Language! And they are good for you." She lightly slaps my head. "How do you expect to live a long healthy life if you don't have a balanced eating habit? Besides, that you haven't pooped since eating healthy shows how deplorable your diet really is."
It's too easy, distracting Hermione from ranting about something by manipulating her into ranting about something else. I can see Neville has caught onto my trick by his rocking shoulders.
"I don't want to live long if it means I have to eat those disgusting things," I inform her. "Ron, back me up here."
"Food is food, mate," he answers.
"Judas!" I sigh. "It's my fault, really. You would eat your own shit if it's on a platter."
"Hey! I'm not that bad."
Silence ensues where everyone looks at Ron like he grew a second head. We do that often.
"Am I?"
"Yes. Yes, you are, Ronniekins," one twin confirms while the other nods vehemently.
"But we love you anyway," Ginny offers as a consolation prize.
"That's because I'm too loveable," Ron informs us seriously. "I mean look at me. One big pile of cuteness. If I was an animal, I'd be one of those bears that girls think are too adorable."
Hermione takes the bait. "A panda."
"See, Hermione thinks I'm loveable too."
Merlin. Did Ron just flirt? What is the world coming to?
"Prat," is her only response.
-JB-
I am woken up rudely by Sirius' loud voice. "Kids! Get up! We must go right now! Get up!"
I lift myself off the bed groggily and look around confused. I hear screams and understand the gravity of the situation. I kick Ron and Neville to wake them up. "Get up, guys. Something's wrong!"
I hate my bones. They always lie.
I enter the lounging area of our tent and see everyone is up and about in their pyjamas. "What's going on?"
"Death Eaters!" is all Sirius offers as an explanation but it's enough.
Mr Weasley takes charge. "Kids, I want you to make your way into the woods, to the portkey. We need to help the Aurors. We'll find you when things settle down."
I smile and it is predatory. I'm not a violent guy. I don't look for trouble. Trouble usually finds me but I'm not someone who could sit on the sidelines while people risk their lives and I'm not above wanting to hurt some Death Eaters. I turn to Sirius and Remus and we exchange nods. They know I won't just walk away from this. No matter how much they may wish otherwise and they know I'll be safer with them than if I sneaked around alone.
"James, come with me," Sirius nods at me, "rest of you, woods, now!" I follow him and Remus outside. Three of us make our way to the middle of the chaos.
"I'm going to get a bird's-eye view. Be right back." I swiftly turn and fly towards the fires.
It's mayhem. I count thirty monsters. They levitate and play with what I assume is a family of four muggles like they are nothing but rag dolls. Random curses flash around and putting tents on fire and blasting apart what was a scene of the celebration of an ancient culture.
A small battalion of aurors make their way from far right.
They must have an inside man because they split into three groups of ten. Aurors can handle the group on the right, the patsies. The middle group is walking straight towards where a group of Ministry workers are converging. That leaves the group going left.
I return to Sirius' side and inform him of the situation. Mr Weasley joins us in the middle of my explanation. Sirius is the most experienced of us in these situations so we turn to him for a game plan.
Sirius orders me to stay close to him. Remus and Mr Weasley will sneak from the left to box them in. Our job is to keep the death eaters' focus on us while Remus and Mr Weasley pick them off one by one. If we can take out a few, that's just a bonus.
Sirius nods at me and we make our way. Ten minutes later, we can hear voices coming from ten of the gentlemen - hah! Gentlemen! - who escaped justice thirteen years ago.
Mr Weasley and Remus break off to left while Sirius and I continue on. We walk silently and come to a clearing.
Sirius may be a great fighter and one of the most talented men I know, I may be powerful and quick-witted but they have the numbers so we need defensive cover. Sirius orders me back towards the woods where we can take cover behind the trees.
We wait in silence for them to come to us and when they are close enough; we unleash the most flashy spells we know at the same time. Sirius opens with an explosion curse that blows apart a tree and creates high velocity wooden shrapnels.
I open with one of my own creations; 'the Flasher'. Three birds fly out of my wand and flashes violently and at the same time with the tree Sirius exploded, blinding three of the death eaters for the duration of the fight and disorienting two of them enough to keep fight easier on us for now.
The death eaters doesn't respond immediately out of shock and Remus and Arthur use that opportunity well. One of them will not be holding a wand soon and two of the temporarily blind men will sleep for the foreseeable future.
Curses rain down on us in a wide range of colours so Sirius and I take cover, casting charms to the trees to increase their structural integrity. I don't want to take the risk of sticking my neck out so I fire two blasters blindly while Sirius transfigures a near fallen tree to a semi-sturdy wall for us to hide behind.
I roll towards the wall and fire a Sonic-Slap Hex just before hiding behind the wall. Sirius looks at me and grins. "Good job, kid, but try not to fire so blindly. Those blasters went nowhere near the bad guys."
"Well, I can't see them, can I?" That's a lightbulb moment right there. I look around and find a small boulder that will do and transfigure it to a mirror and stick it on a tree. Now, we can see what's happening behind our wall.
What's happening is five of the death eaters are stalking towards us. I can't see Remus or Arthur. I hope they are okay.
I turn to Sirius. "I have an idea. Shield me!"
I don't wait for him to answer. I turn and jump up and wave my wand in a complicated pattern that will create a… tornado. I read about it in a book Albus gave me about crafting spells. That shit is crazy. And the crazier part is, the original inventor of the spell intended to create a wind to sweep away the dust.
The problem is that the spell is ridiculously complex, and it takes forty seconds to complete the chant and the wand movements.
Five seconds in, five curses fly towards me and only thing stopping them is Sirius' shield. It's funny. We are fighting death eaters but no unforgivable has been fired.
Another ten second passes and another five curses fly towards me, splashing against the shield Sirius maintains.
Only four spells fly toward me in next volley.
Just as I am about to finish, I hear someone yell 'Crucio!' but there is nothing to do but take it. I couldn't very well let all that effort go to waste. A small tornado leaves my wand and I fall down because of the second my intense pain I ever felt.
Have you ever been bitten by a freaking basilisk? Now that was a bitch. This… well, this is a bitch too but not that much.
Five minutes pass. Half an hour pass but there is no release. Finally, at the end of an hour, I feel pain subside and I can see Sirius hover above me. His mouth is moving but for the love of me, I can't hear a thing because of the ringing in my ear.
"That shit hurts!"
"-es… fuck were you… okay?" Sirius says? I'm not sure what he's saying. "James! James! Are you okay?"
"Just peachy. I love the tingling feeling freaking torture curse gives," I stammer, my body spasming with the aftereffects of the pain.
"Are you insane? Why would you jump in the middle of five death eaters like that?" This time, it's Remus yelling.
"What happened?"
Remus looks at Sirius then turns back to me. "Well, there were five of them attacking you. I took out one of them. Your tornado took out three and one portkeyed away."
"See, I took out three death eaters with one spell. Worth it."
"You are grounded for… like ten years or something," Sirius yells.
"Oh, shut up, will you?" I hold out a twitching hand. "Help me up."
I have a different feeling in my bones now.
- Flowers for Your Grave -
Chapter 2: Hogwarts Express
September 1, 1994
Last five days were hectic. Sirius, Remus and Arthur admonished me for my crazy stunt, followed by Molly and Hermione for putting myself in harm's way. After yelling themselves sore, they both gave me bone crushing hugs. I think Molly invented a wandless bone-crushing hex on the spot.
She's cruel.
The next day, Albus came for a visit. His reaction was mixed. He was proud of the way I reacted to the situation but I could see he was more than a little worried about me. Even with my various adventures, taking a Cruciatus right into my chess is a serious business, and frankly, I'm lucky the spell didn't hit me in the head. My brain would have fried.
He stayed by my side while Madam Bones questioned me herself. Turns out, being Dumbledore's prodigy means I am a high profile individual which necessitated the highest authority to take my statement. Minister Fudge's fingerprints were all over the facade of necessary response but Madam Bones didn't seem to be too put out with having to do it.
I shudder to think what the response would be if they knew my alter ego - my real ego? Whatever.
After the visit from the director of DMLE, Minister himself showed up. I don't know why but I like the man… Okay, not really. The wanker is as corrupt as they come. He's not the smartest fella, nor the bravest but he is damn amusing. He congratulated me for my brave and selfless efforts. He didn't seem to know Sirius, Remus and Arthur took part in the fight.
Oh well.
We spent the rest of the days getting ready for the school. Shopping was a bitch, but we managed. Hermione convinced me to finish my homework but I think I'll live. The problem was, we barely made time to play enough Quidditch for Ron's taste. He was grumpy all the time. He had a point though; how can they expect us to live with only two Quidditch matches a day? Heathens!
The worst part was the spasms. Pain was there, but it's bearable. Spasms… They fucked everything up. Do you know how hard it is to eat a meal when your hands are shaking like a junkie on a withdrawal? Or how hard it is to write something down? Not to mention controlling a broom.
Now, we stand on the platform five and a quarter. I like how the entrance of the platform change every year. It's a token effort by the ministry to avoid a breach of Statute of Secrecy.
Quite a group we make. Every Weasley alive is here. All nine. There are nine of them! It's like a locust infestation of a biblical sort.
Then we have the Grangers, a small family of three brunettes. Followed by my dysfunctional family; two not-gay not-parents parent figures and me. We can't forget Neville and the bane of his existence; Augusta Longbottom.
Augusta Longbottom is… undescribable. She's a small woman with a zero sense of fashion. Oh, no. I'm not talking about the hideous hat she wears. That hat has a story that would make Snape cry like a Molly Weasley at a wedding. I'll tell you about it some other time.
No, I'm talking about her colour scheme, or lack thereof. She always wears dull browns and hideous greys, the midget.
One word of advice, never make that woman angry. You wouldn't like her when she's angry. She's the sole reason Neville is alive today. She fought all three Lestrange's and Crouch Jr. to a standstill for twenty minutes until Moody arrived with a handful of other Aurors. After the ensuing fight, Moody received the title of Mad-Eye.
Anyway.
Our little group comprises seventeen people. There is a Quidditch team somewhere in there, with reserve players, coaches, and everything.
Sirius takes me aside to give me last-minute reminders. I don't know why he thinks I forgot what we talked yesterday but going along with it is easier.
He reminds me our weekly meetings to train me. According to Sirius, I did well enough during the riot five days ago but there was a lot of room for improvement. His exact words were; 'You were shit out there! No planning, awful decision making'. I'm okay with that. It's not like spending two training once a week will do any harm, and hey, I'll get to see Sirius and Remus during the school year.
He tells me to follow the rules and follows it with a reminder to give Snape hell. I ignore the inconsistency.
We hug and make to return to our group but are cut off by the lovely Malfoy family.
"Ah, Mr Black. I'm glad to hear you didn't hurt yourself irreparably during the mishap after the finals." He looks me up and down with the same sneer plastered all over his face, one that can be seen on the face of his son often enough. Apple doesn't far from the tree, I guess.
"It was all fun and games." I smile innocently. "I was bored, and it's always fun to play with animals."
He smiles sweetly. "Cruciatus curse can be quite painful, wouldn't you agree?"
So he was the one. Nice to know. "If you think that little amateurishly cast Cruciatus was bad, you should see one of Ginny's bat-bogey hexes." I smile. "You remember Ginny, don't you? Red hair, cute button nose; was targeted by this son of a bitch who was too much of a coward to attack her father like a man? I think it was the same scum who fired the cruciatus but got scared and ran."
His nose flares but he gives no verbal response.
I take a step forward and pat his cheek. "Ah, fun times. It was good to see you, Lucius. I always enjoy our little verbal spars. It's fun to watch you act as if you can maintain an intelligent conversation." I push past him but am stopped by a hand on my arm.
"I'd be careful if I were you, young James. I haven't forgotten about the time you cost me a servant."
I can see Sirius' hand twitch as if he's ready to draw his wand but I shake my head. "Is that a threat?" I ask loudly with a sweet smile
"Of course not," he answers and takes a step back.
"Didn't think so. Not many people have the guts to threaten me."
He towers over me with a threatening glare. "Are you calling me a coward?"
"I wasn't the one to run away during our last encounter," I whisper to him. "Go home, Lucius. Go to your wife and enjoy your time with her. You may never know when tragedy will strike."
"Is that a threat?" he parrots and his hand returns to grip my arm. I ignore the pain.
"Yes." I smile at him cheerfully. "I am threatening you. You will find what I'm capable of if you don't take your hand off me." I let out a little wandless jolt and he takes his hand in shock. "And that, my dear, is why I think so little of you."
We attracted quite a crowd, I realise, as I walk towards our group with Sirius. I can tell he's proud of how I conducted myself and a little anxious because I may talk a big game but Lucius Malfoy is a dangerous man.
"Is there a problem?" Arthur asks when I am close enough to hear.
"Nope. Just a little chat."
Sirius snorts to my reply. "Lucius tried to threaten James. Didn't work out the way he intended, I wager. The Express will be buzzing with rumors."
"James!" Hermione hiss at me. "Lucius Malfoy is a dangerous man."
"Really? I didn't know. It's not like he was a death eater who got away by the way of gold. And it's not like he's responsible for opening the Chamber of Secrets." I glare at her. "Oh, wait! He was behind the opening of the Chamber of Secrets and he was a death eater who escaped justice." I speak loudly for audiences' sake. "And worry not, my dear. Just like I killed the monster he unleashed at the school, I will make sure his next plot to hurt me or anyone in Hogwarts fails," I continue in a clear voice. I wink at Hermione and she understands.
Around us, people start murmuring. Let's see if Malfoy can touch me now.
-JB-
We spend first half hour of our journey in silence. Hermione is tense, and it's stressing everyone else. At first, I let it go but enough is enough.
"What would you have me do, Hermione? Run away from him?"
"No, but you shouldn't attract unnecessary trouble. He's a dangerous man. You said it yourself; he was a Death Eater."
"Not was; is. He was the one to use the cruciatus."
"And you ask why I think threatening him was a stupid thing to do."
Ron comes to my defence this time. "Hermione, the man is a criminal. He was the one to hurt Ginny. She still has nightmares because of that man. I say he deserves worse than a threat."
"Think about it for a second, Hermione. If anything happens, people will most definitely blame Lucius Malfoy for it. Even if he wants to come after me, he knows he'll be a prime suspect."
Apparently, Neville doesn't agree. "I'm not so sure. He got away with being a Death Eater, didn't he?"
I turn to him. "Yes, but it was a time of chaos. There were many people implicated that Ministry of Magic arrested over two hundred people, with only sixty convictions. Even Sirius was under suspicion for some time, remember? Some people slipped through the cracks, especially those with money and connections."
"Besides, think about how this will affect public perception of him. Everyone was licking his boots last week but now, everyone suddenly 'knows' he's a bad person who escaped justice thirteen years ago, who opened the chamber of secrets and who likes to threaten school children. While these rumours are circulating, he's a monster and I'm a brave little schoolboy."
The moment I finish, the door to our compartment opens. Susan and Hannah enter. "James, I heard Malfoy's father threatened you!" Susan squeaks.
"See, Hermione?" I brag and she responds by harrumphing. I turn to Susan "What did you hear?"
She repeats everything that happened and how everyone 'knew' he was a criminal mastermind all along.
Ron looks at me like I am the second coming of Merlin for a second. "Bloody hell."
"You know I'm awesome, Ron. This shouldn't surprise you." I smile cockily. He responds by rolling his eyes.
Hermione shakes her head. "I still think it was a bad idea."
"The rumours are true," I inform Susan, then proceed recount what happened.
After the usual show of concern, the two Hufflepuffs leave. More people show up to get first-hand confirmation but the rest of the ride goes with little fanfare.
When the ride is over, I am surprised. Malfoy junior didn't show up for his traditional start of the year taunt. I can't help be disappointed.
-JB-
September 12, 1994
There is something missing here.
That's the thought running through my mind as I snog Katie. There is something missing.
Truthfully, she's a good kisser and a beautiful girl and I'm hard... Ehm. Anyway. It's great kissing her but compared to how it felt to kiss Fleur, it's little bland.
My right hand moves from her back to her leg. What? Just because it's not as good, doesn't mean I'll say no to a nice snog with a beautiful girl. Especially because I don't think she'll run away from me when the morning comes. And it's not like I'll ever see Fleur again.
I squeeze her leg and hear moan faintly. We break for a little air. She smiles at me cutely and her eyes shine brightly. "I wanted to do that since last year."
My throat feels a little dry suddenly. What's just a kiss for me is obviously something more to the beaming brunette on my lap.
"Katie, I..." I don't know what to say. I want to kiss her more and show her how springy my bed is but I don't want to do anything to break her heart and the way she looks makes it clear I just might. "I am thirsty. Are you thirsty?"
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Mr Black?"
Merlin's saggy balls. That's both cliche and funny.
That's what I like about Katie the most. She's funny. Even when she says the stupidest shit or the most cliche things, she still is funny.
"I think we are both drunk enough. I was thinking non-alcoholic beverages."
Her smile loses some of its brightness. "Sure. Get me whatever you are having."
I get us both non-alcoholic beer and give one to her. "Katie... I want to be honest with you. I really enjoy kissing you as I'm sure you noticed." She giggles. We both can see just how much I enjoyed it. "But I don't want you to get the wrong idea, I'm not looking for anything more right now."
Her smile is gone by now and I hate that I'm the reason she looks sad. "What are you trying to say?"
"I... Look, I'm attracted to you. You are beautiful. You are fun. You are smart. But… I don't like you that way... Shit. I'm making a mess of this, aren't I?"
She gives me a nod. "Yep. You are." She sighs sadly. "Well, I'm not going to lie to you. I like you. A lot. But if you want tonight to be a onetime thing, I'll understand."
"Are you sure? Like I said, I care very much about you and I would hate to see you sad for any reason, let alone be the reason."
"James. I'm a big girl." She glares at me when I snort. "I'm a year older than you, aren't I? I won't waste my tears just because we fooled around one night and stayed friends."
I grin. "So I can go back to kissing you?"
"You should. I enjoyed that very much so before you put your foot in your mouth."
"You are right. Your tongue tastes much better than my feet."
"Damn right, mister."
-JB-
September 23, 1994
I enter the classroom Sirius told me to be and-
What? What happened?
I sit up groggily, a small pressure leaving my mind slowly.
"And here I thought Moody would teach you vigilance," I hear Sirius' voice from above me. "Where is your sense of awareness?"
"Fuck you! You attacked me from behind. How am I supposed to know you were there?" I glare at him as I stand up. "It's not like I can expect to be attacked from behind by my own frigging father!"
"Okay, I might have gotten a little ahead of myself but this is how I was thought when I was in the order."
"Let me guess, Moody was your instructor?"
"Yep."
"He's one crazy bastard. I want to learn to fight, not become a young version of that guy."
Sirius rolls his eyes. "You know my teaching experience from last year didn't cover this, right? It's not like I have any idea what I'm doing."
"How about we start with a simple duel? After the duel, you can tell me what I did wrong and teach me some cool tricks."
"Good idea."
The classroom we are in is empty except for two desks and a handful of chairs and is barely large enough for a duel but we'll make do. He goes to the other side of the room while I stand in front of the wall closest to the door.
Disorientation from the stunner is long gone so I'm ready for whatever he throws at me.
He stands opposite of me with his feet parted a shoulder length so I copy his stand. He gives me a nod and I start with a disarming charm.
The problem? Well, he's a fighter who fought in a war and I'm a school kid with a big ego which from the looks of it is going to be deflated quite a bit today.
I wake up groggily for the second time in four minutes to find Sirius looming over me, and this time, he's right to be upset. "What the hell was that?"
"Well, you fired two spells almost at once. I dodged the first one but the second one hit me in the chest before I could fire up a shield."
"Wow. Aren't you smart?" Sirius gives me a hand and pulls me up. "That was just awful. The worst footwork I've ever seen. I expected to be faster with a wand but I thought you could at least dodge properly. You saw the second stunner's trajectory yet you walked straight into its path."
"I know. I know. I didn't expect you to be that fast, so I acted on instinct."
"We will have to teach you some better instincts."
And we did just that. We spent the next two hours on dodging exercises. Turns out, I am fast on my feet but I don't have the balance to dodge well enough.
That will change.
I did well during the riot but we had the advantage of surprise and they were disorganised.
One thing is certain; I am much more motivated than I was before the lesson. I will learn how to defend myself. I have to. With the amounts of trouble I get in, not knowing how to fight and defend myself is not an option.
- Flowers for Your Grave -
Chapter 3: Friendly Discussions
October 1, 1994
The first month of school passed by with nothing of note happening. Except for Mad-Eye Moody's classes and the general excitement because of the Triwizard tournament, it did not differ from every other year I've been in this school.
Mad-Eye showed us the three unforgivable curses, but that's no big deal. I mean why would it be a big deal to show school children curses that are deemed so foul that casting them on another human being is an instant ticket to Azkaban. Now, if he cast one of them on us- let's say the Imperius- that would be awful.
Oh, but wait! He did. I don't know how he convinced Albus that it was a good idea. One good thing came out of it though. I completed the set. I have had all three unforgivable curses cast upon me. At least I fought it off.
My new training is going great. Once a week, Sirius and Remus come to school and beat me to a pulp, magically. It's so much fun.
Pain is fun. Yay, me!
I haven't forgotten about my promise to the Headmaster either. I am working on Occlumency. Progress is slow- as in no progress. The books Dumbledore gave are great. I mean I am assuming they are great. I still haven't figured it out what it means to 'clear one's mind'. When I try not to think, all I manage is thinking about not thinking. How is it a person can 'not think'?
At the moment, I'm making my way to Albus' office to have a little chat with him. Normally, we would meet once a week to discuss one thing or another, but he is too busy this year for that kind of arrangement.
I give the regular password to the gargoyle and climb up the stairs. I won't say this to his face but I missed the old man. Without his little riddles to solve, my life is duller.
I knock and enter when he calls me in. "Hey, Professor," I call as I sit down on a chair.
"Hello, Harry. How are you this fine evening?" he welcomes me jovially.
"In pain." I grimace. "The man who is supposed to be godfather is a monster that enjoy hurting little children, and werewolves are mindless beasts."
"Now, now, Harry. You were so eager to learn how to fight." He's far too cheerful. "I'm sure they are just trying to... impress upon you the importance of a solid defence."
"No. He is a bad man and I hate him," I declare with a childish pout.
He smiles at me kindly and sucks on a candy. Seriously, what is it with this guy and candy? "Are you finished with your little show for the incoming schools?"
Yeah, 'little show' my ass. He's acting nonchalant but I know just how much he wants to win that little bet for reasons beyond my understanding.
"Don't worry. I'm all ready. Even you will be impressed."
"I am already impressed by the things you are capable of, Harry."
I'd say he's trying to butter me up, but he's right. I am impressive for my age. No, I'm not blowing my own pipe. Frankly, it's a little freaky how awesome I am.
"I still won't tell you what I will be doing. You will have to wait and see,."
He sighs but lets it go. "How goes Occlumency?" He turns serious.
"I'm making progress, as in I have no clue what I'm doing. I just don't get how I am supposed to empty my mind."
He looks at me inquiringly, like he's searching for something. "What do you feel when you meditate?"
"It depends. Sometimes, I come up with a great idea for a spell or a painting. Other times, it's just too loud to focus, like I have a million things to do but I can't focus on one of them to do it." I shake my head. "It was easy to meditate when I was trying to become an animagus. I had something to focus on. I was exploring my instincts, my base characteristics; getting to know myself. I don't understand how I am supposed to focus on nothing."
He stays silent and thoughtful for a long minute before talking. "Try to paint or play music before you meditate."
"How is that going to help?"
"Tell me, Harry, what do you feel after you finish one of your projects?"
"I feel complete," I answer with no pause to consider. "Like I've done what I was born to do and I can just rest in peace." To be honest, it is one of the best feelings in the world, completing a painting, finishing a project, finally being free of the weight. "I think best analogy would be farting after a long day of keeping it in," I tell him with a smile.
He fails to keep in a snort. "You are a remarkable young man, Harry. You have a great capacity to feel. You see everything around you for what they are and when you don't let it out like you do when you paint, it all becomes too distracting for you. Your mind is too chaotic, too scattered. Occlumency is the ability to master one's own mind in its essence. For you to do that, you need to isolate your emotions and thought process."
I hate that it makes sense. "Does that mean I will only be able to occlude - or whatever it is called- after I am done with my projects? I won't be able to protect my mind most of the time?" The idea is more than a little worrying because that would just be horrible and impractical.
"I don't think so. Now, remember, this is not an exact science. The rare people who attempt have different experiences with Occlumency. I think once you achieve a good enough grasp, you will be able to protect your mind even when you are in one of your creative episodes." He smiles sympathetically.
"Okay, I'll try that."
"Wonderful."
"How are preparations for the tournament going?" I change the subject.
"Not bad," he lies obviously. "It's difficult, pleasing all the parties, but I think we will have an entertaining year."
"You sound like you hate every second."
"I hate politics," he confides with a nod and an unashamed grimace. "I truly hate it. I can't describe how much I hate it. I'd give up my candies to be free of politicians."
"Don't say that! That's blasphemy!" I exclaim jokingly and he laughs.
"Okay, that may be going too far. You are right. I can't live without my candies." His eyes are twinkling away madly at this point. "But I can't stress enough how difficult it is to deal with people who obsess over littlest of details."
"You should let Snape loose on them. He'd insult them into submission." I'm not sure if I'm joking or if I truly believe it's a good idea.
His reflexes kick in. "Professor Snape, Harry."
"You know, I think he spends his summers on writing down every insult he can think of," I tell him conspiratorially. "There is no way he can come up with such creative ways of calling someone an idiot. Just the other day, he told me he thinks it's a miracle I could learn to spell my name with only two brain cells."
"Severus is a national treasure, Harry." Damn! Did Albus just make a joke about Snape? Miracles never cease to exist.
"I know. That's I keep saying we should bury him."
-JB-
October 15, 1994
"Hello, young Harry."
"Hello, Firenze. How are you this beautiful night?" I ask Firenze.
I am in the forbidden forest. Wait, before you think I am an idiot, let me explain.
After Firenze saved my life three years ago, we met once a year to talk. It began in my second year. When the Basilisk petrified Justin, most of the school blamed me for the attacks. During a particularly restless night, I, being the reasonable kid I was, went for a stroll in the forest.
Firenze found me wandering, and we got to talking. It was his persistent mentioning of the dead roosters that gave us the second clue about what Slytherin's monster was.
My visit to him in my third year wasn't a coincidence though. I enjoyed Firenze's company, so I visited him in third year again. Same as this year. I'd love to meet with him more often but the dangers of the forest and the fact that his clan doesn't like it when one of their own is involved in human affairs means once a year is the best we can do.
"The stars are exceptionally bright tonight."
"I still don't get how you can tell the future by looking at the stars and by the feeling of the forest."
"We dedicate our lives to the art of reading and listening to the signs, child," he informs me, "while you humans waste your time on ridiculous things."
I ignore the comment on my species. "Hogwarts grounds will be crowded this year. Two other schools are coming for a competition."
He snorts. It's funny. I thought his snort will have a more horse like quality to it but it's oddly human. "Ah, yes. Triwizard tournament. A chance to win eternal glory."
"Yeah, I'm not too sold on it either. It sounds more like a pissing contest." I shrug. "But hey, maybe I'm just bitter because I can't compete."
"I was but a foal when the last one was held here, two hundred seasons ago. No one won that one. Eternal, indeed."
Wow! Who knew centaurs could do sarcastic so well.
"I know there is no such a thing as eternal glory. If I were to compete, I'd do it to test my limits. Not for some silly prize. It's all irrelevant though. I wouldn't enter even if I could. I have enough projects right now."
He glances at my face, interested. "What are they?"
That question is a perfect example of the thing that makes Firenze special. His curiosity and heart.
Centaurs, for reasons I'm not wise enough to comment on, are not social creatures. They prefer to stay out of the affairs of other sentient beings, even intellectually. They don't wonder and question human affairs, don't try to understand us.
Not that humans are different, mind you.
But Firenze is different. He is always full of inquisitive questions and fresh perspectives. A conversation with him is a breath of fresh air.
"I will orchestrate a little welcoming performance for the visiting schools. I'm learning Occlumency; the mastery one's own mind. And I'm learning how to fight. With how much trouble I find myself in, I think protecting myself is more important than proving myself in some tournament."
"It's good that you are learning to protect yourself, child. Mars is getting brighter every night and shines on you brighter than everyone else. You will need it."
I nod even though I do not understand how he can see Mars from here to tell the difference in its brightness or what that brightness means. And the more personal part of his reading… Well, I won't touch that with a ten-foot pole.
"I am going to leave you now, Harry. Do be careful this year. There is a restlessness in the air. Troubling times are ahead."
Oh, shit. I'm most definitely screwed.
"Good night, Firenze. Thank you for the warning."
-JB-
October 16, 1994
"... and he told me there is a lot of restlessness in the air. He said troubling times are coming."
We are in the common room, by the fire. I can tell Ron doesn't have a clue about the significance of my conversation with Firenze but Hermione understands.
She sucks in a deep, deep breath. Merlin! How many lungs does she have? "Man! You are going to somehow get sucked into this tournament, aren't you?"
"Hermione! I am appalled that you would think..." I trail off dramatically before shrugging. "Yeah, I don't know how, I don't know who, I don't know why but I agree."
"You must tell Dumbledore, James. He needs to know."
I nod in agreement. "I know, Hermione, but he's away for the next week or two."
"I don't see why that would be a bad thing," Ron comments, eyes unfocused, a wistful smile on his lips. "I'd kill for a chance at eternal glory. Not to mention the prize money."
Sometimes, I want to punch Ron in the face so bad.
"Yeah but James is already rich and I don't think he needs this tournament to make a name for himself. He's Dumbledore's golden boy." Neville says, the last part with in a far too mocking tone. Maybe it's not a good thing for Neville to learn self-confidence.
"Hey! I am a man," I sniff.
"That answer alone proves you are not," Hermione snickers.
"Just because you are a year older than me, doesn't give you the right to belittle me, lady."
"Sure thing, little brother."
"I hate being the youngest!"
"Tough luck, mate. Get over it."
I put my hand in my heart. "Et tu, Ron?"
"Bless you."
Hermione rolls her eyes. "Don't you ever read, Ron? 'Et tu' is Latin for 'you too'. According to Rome: A History, they were the last words of Julius Caesar."
"Hey! Didn't we eat those bread with sausage things there this summer?"
I can't help it, I roll my eyes. "Julius Caesar was a famous Roman politician and general, Ron. Little Caesars is a pizza chain and unrelated."
"I don't care about the politician but I sure can do with another one of those slices."
"Yes, Ron. We all know how much you like to eat."
-JB-
October 24, 1994
I hate potions. Not because it's taught by Severus Snape. Hell, if it wasn't him teaching it, I wouldn't even bother going. You see, Snape and I have this love/hate relationship. I love to hate him and he feels the same way about me.
He's a bitter man but highly intelligent and has a talent for coming up with the most creative insults. It's an art form to him.
Coincidently, I am in potions class right now. We are brewing aging potions. I think he's trying to tell us something by making us brew this potion but that's not important.
What's important is I somehow managed to blow up a potion that involves no ingredients that can blow up. That begs the question, how did I blow up daisies? They are daisies.
"Black!" the master of bats scream. Hermione looks at me pityingly but I ignore her.
"Yes, sir?"
"How?" is all he asks but the incredulous glare on his face finishes the question for him.
To be honest, he has a point. What I did is the equivalent of blowing up water.
"I dunno."
"You don't know? I see you have your father's intellect, Mr Black."
I'm surprised. He never mentions Sirius. Never. It's odd, really, how he always avoided it.
I don't know why but I have to do this. I have to see the look on his face when the realisation hits. "But I have my mother's eyes, right, sir?"
He looks me in the eye for a long second and his eyes widen with recognition followed by pure shock and disbelief. "My office, now," is the whispered order.
"Sir! Yes, sir!" I salute.
He turns and swiftly walks into his office. I follow him at a sedate pace and roll my eyes at the looks in my classmates' faces. You'd think I'm walking to my execution.
When I enter his office, he's already sitting behind his desk so I sit on the chair across the desk and wait for him to say something. He stays silent for a long time and just watches me.
"Why now?"
I hate to say this but it says a lot about the man's intellect that he skipped past ridiculous questions. Dammit. I hate having positive thoughts about Snape.
"This is the first time you brought up Sirius. I don't know why you never went that route, and it felt fitting to come out to you the first time you did. Besides, you should have seen the look on your face. I will always remember that look fondly."
"Second reason is that Albus wants me to learn Occlumency from you." I can see how much he enjoys that idea. "I convinced him to give me until the winter holidays to learn. If I can't, he will have you teach me. Which means you might have to enter my mind. If that were to happen, you would find out anyway, and I'd prefer to have this conversation in my terms."
He puts aside the terror the possibility causes in him and nods.
"More importantly, I need your help. I think someone will force me to compete in this tournament. I would have gone to Albus, but he's away from school right now and I don't want to interrupt whatever it is he's doing just because of a suspicion."
He considers what I said for a minute. "Why me? Why not go to Minerva?"
"I love Minerva. She's a great teacher. But she's incapable of doing anything without asking Albus first. I thought about telling Sirius or Remus but they don't have constant access to the castle. And they might do something crazy like pull me out of the school." Corners of his mouth turn upward at the idea but I ignore it. I think the small smirk on his face is more because of the idea of me going to him instead of Sirius than hypothetical freedom from my presence.
"What do you want me to do?" To be clear, he's not asking for his orders. His tone is far too sarcastic for that.
"I don't know. I don't have a clue how one may go about forcing someone else into this thing. I don't even know why someone would do that, or who. I just know something is coming and I can't help think it's somehow related to this tournament."
"Do you really want me to believe you don't want to compete in this ridiculousness? You? James Black or whatever you call yourself?" he asks disbelievingly.
"If it was any other time, I might cheat my way into the tournament, true. But not right now. I don't need the distraction."
We stay silent for the next five minutes.
He sighs and throws me a dirty look. "Fine. I'll investigate the matter and see if there is any truth to your paranoid intuition."
I grin at him smugly. "This doesn't mean I will go easy on you."
"Oh, how I hate you."
I smile. "I know. Isn't it great?"