Chapter 1: Home

The wind whipped my face. My heart pounded against my chest and my eyes watered. Stop this nonsense! It wasn't my voice, but it was inside me. The ground flew up to meet me as I streaked like an arrow towards a target. I was not in control. Stop! Stop this! I did not stop. Not yet. In this moment, I was free. I drew a deep, ragged breath, my lungs protesting the cold air and the forced calm that washed over me. I closed my eyes. Bliss. This is bliss.

With a jerk, I pulled up hard and levelled my dive as my feet scrapped the ground beneath me. I took a shaky breath.

"Close one," I muttered to no one. Get it together, James!

I flew lazily now, taking my time, circling back to the castle.

It was a beautiful sight and I took it in slowly. The grounds were covered in a deep layer of snow, the skies grey and cold, the castle dark and foreboding, and it was home. I took a wide detour around the Whomping Willow, I'd been much too near it not long ago. My body still ached from the memory. I flew on, leaving the thought behind me.

Tomorrow we were leaving for Christmas Break. I was looking forward to going home, truly I was. I just don't want to go. Six hours. That's how long a train ride I had before me. Six bloody hours in a small compartment. You'd think by now they could have come up with a quicker mode of transportation. You'd think it was a muggle school with that exit. I paused and grit my teeth against the disdain in which I thought that word, muggle. I saw Lily's disapproving face and heard her judgement loud and sharp. Not that muggles aren't …. Aren't what? I shook my head hard and sped up. I just don't like the train.That's all I meant.

I refused to keep a consistent thought in my mind for the rest of the ride. I wasn't going to work myself up again. It was late. I would already be in trouble if seen. Then why not do another loop? That was definitely my voice, but I didn't listen to it either. Hot cocoa and bed, tomorrow was going to be long enough as it was. No need in making it worse by adding exhaustion into it.

I landed silently on a second-floor windowsill and climbed inside. The familiarity rushed over me like a cleansing shower. Home. The dark stone corridor was lit by small floating lanterns. Along the walls, large portraits decorated the walls. "Aye, who goes there!" The third portrait down, Sir Kingsley stood guard.

"It is just I," I say as I walk past, broom over my shoulder.

He lowered his sword and wished me a jolly Christmas. I returned the Christmas greeting and continued in silence.

The kitchen door was not marked, but the smell was unmistakeable. Home. It had been hours since dinner, and hours yet until breakfast, but the elves inside continued to work. It was a large room, with rows of oversize ovens, pans, and cupboards. Through the kitchen, four long tables stood empty. One for each of the four houses. It had taken us over a year to find the kitchens, of all the secrets Hogwarts had to offer, I enjoyed this one the most. Well, at least I did tonight.

"Ah young Master Potter," a house elf rushed to me, his voice high, "how may I serve you tonight?" He bowed deeply.

"Just hot cocoa, toast and jam." I nodded in appreciation and walked through the kitchen to the Gryffindor table in the back. The cocoa was served in a heavy gold goblet and the toast on a matching plate. It was unnecessary, it was just a midnight snack.

The kitchen door opened again and the elves again rushed to take their order. I sighed, and swivelled to face them. It was another student, or I was in trouble.

"Mistress McGonagall! What would please you tonight?"

I fought down a smile as she politely ordered and came to join me. "Mr. Potter, out of bed after hours." Her voice was sharp and her face hard, "I'm shocked, truly." The smallest smile worked on her face and a definite sparkle in her eyes.

I shrugged, dramatically, "What can I say, you've got me red-handed." I flashed her a killer smile, "You look lovely tonight, Minnie." I motioned across from me, "Care to join me?"

She frowned, but joined me at the table, "Straight to bed after this Potter. I do not want to spend the last morning filling out paperwork on you."

"That's fair."

"And it's Professor McGonagall, to you."

"O'course it is, Minnie."

She sighed and sipped her tea. Professor McGonagall, my Minnie, was well known as one of the strictest professors on campus. As strict and severe as the tight no-nonsense bun her hair was always in, but tonight her long brown hair was loose and her eyes were soft. It was Christmas, she was off duty.

She eyed my broom and shook her head. That was a whole other infraction, out of the castle after hours. That added another form of paperwork.

I met her eyes and shrugged, "You wouldn't want your star chaser to get rusty, now would you?"

"You're right, Mr. Potter, I certainly wouldn't want my Quidditch Captain benched for repeated, inappropriate use of his broomstick." Her eyes flashed in warning and I had to chuckle.

"A common goal then." I winked and changed the subject, "Are you heading home for the holidays then?"

She searched me hard for a moment then nodded almost imperceivable, "Visiting my sister in Glasgow for a few days. There's an exhibit at the Museum of Magic on early Transfiguration I am eager to attend."

"Oh! I read about that…" and we were off in an easy conversation.

I tease and disobey her, but there's no one in the castle I respect more. I had always been enthralled with transfiguration, but the passion she had for it and the seriousness of which she took each practical made it quickly my favourite subject. I had many tutors before my time at Hogwarts, but none like her. I am clever, but I'm not a good student, but I tried my best for her.

Head of Gryffindor House, Transfiguration and Quidditch are her two passions, and she has eyes that could kill with a look and wit as sharp as a sword yes, Minerva McGonagall was my kind of woman. If I was about 30 years older… alas, I am not, but I want to be her when I grow up. She knows it. Subtly is not a strong point of mine.

"Well, I ought to be heading to bed, you've kept me up much too late, Professor." I teased and stood, collecting my broom.

"Don't get caught."

"Please, Minnie, I ain't no rookie."

A final wink, and I was off. Through the heavy wooden door, the quiet stone corridors and up to Gryffindor tower. I cut through a secret passageway behind a life size portrait of a fair blonde maiden, currently snoozing on her throne.

Ah yes, Hogwarts was home. But so was home, and I was looking forward to being back. It's a shorter walk from the kitchen to bed.

— —- —-

"Aight boys, I'm ready." Padfoot emerged from the bathroom, his long black hair gleaming and grey eyes sparkling. His hair fell with a carefully calculated carelessness that took him the past twenty minutes to achieve. "How do I look?" He flashed an award winning smile and opened his arms.

"Ridiculous."

"Is that pixie vomit on your shirt?"

"We've been waiting for that?"

"Wow, words hurt ya know."

"Well mate, I can't say it's not eye-catching."

"Definitely caught my eye," Wormtail spoke on a laugh.

Padfoot's style could be described as, well, pixie vomit glamour. If it was ridiculous, he loved it. His wardrobe was colourful, patterned, and quite frankly, ridiculous. But be damned if he didn't pull it off.

We were quite the foursome. Padfoot, wildly inappropriate 95% of the time, ridiculously formal the other 5%. Eldest son of the ancient and most noble house of Black, Sirius was a rebel through and through. And if you thought his long hair and bright clothing was anything other than a giant fuck you to his parents, you were wrong. Just don't point that out to him.

Moony, in a significantly more reserved wool sweater with a full book bag slung over his shoulder kept us in check. He came off the good guy, even awarded prefect last year, badge, supervision, and all. It wasn't wrong to say he acted as the conscience for the group, but that didn't mean too much in the grand scheme of things. His blonde hair was a classic low maintenance cut, his eyes were sharp and deep white scars gave him the battle weary look the girls loved, but he didn't play it up like Sirius would have.

Wormtail, a good half a foot shorter than the rest of us, made up for his height with his humour. Given enough time, that guy could make a dementor laugh. He wore a dark shirt, scrawled across it in large letters, 'I'm happy to see you', the small print underneath, 'That's not my wand'. He thought it was hilarious and I knew the first group of girls we passed, he'd make a reference to it. Classic Pete.

Padfoot would take hours to pull of careless, I took minutes. I wore my Quidditch sweater and the first pair of slacks I could get my hands on. I ran my hand through my hair a couple times and considered it styled. My hair was notoriously dishevelled, I could've spent hours smoothing it, but it wouldn't have lasted the walk to the train, and I never bothered. I liked it rough like that.

We were one of the last groups to the train, but our compartment had been left empty. We threw our bags down, stretched out and threw a yellow ball around and chatted plans for our time off, and our return. Our schemes were interrupted by our door sliding open, and the unimpressed face of our female prefect greeted us.

My hand shot through my hair, ruffling it even more. "Hey, Evans!"

She ruefully ignored me and addressed Moony, "Remus, can I steal you for a couple minutes, there was an incident at the front of the train to address."

"You can have me, Lily." I couldn't resist myself.

"Ugh, Potter," she turned her glare on me. Her emerald eyes as stormy as the sea, her beautiful red hair barely contained in a sloppy bun. "I don't want you, I want Remus."

I was unfazed, "Hush now, you don't need to fight it I know you feel it."

She made a disgusted sound and turned to Remus, "Are you coming? Why are you friends with them anyway?"

Moony smirked, getting up to go, "You don't know them like I do, Lily."

"Clearly." She turned on her heel and left us.

Moony shook his head at me, "You ought to be embarrassed with yourself, Prongs."

"Ay, she's warming up to me, you know it."

"You're shameless." He closed the cabin door behind him.

I swooned over Padfoot, "Did you hear that made, she said she wanted me."

"Er, were we in the same conversation mate, I distinctly heard a 'don't' thrown in there."

"Details, mate, just details."

Wormtail scoffed, "Hopeless, you're hopeless."

The rest of the train ride was uneventful. A few more rounds of fireworks, one that missed the open window and had us ducking for cover. We played a game of exploding snap that had us all nursing minor burns by the end. All in good fun.

As the train pulled into the station we made our way to the platform in no rush to leave. With a final pat on the back, we cheerily wished each other a Merry Christmas and we went our separate ways, Sirius and I sticking close together.

His father was there collecting the rest of his family, but Padfoot was coming home with me. There was no love lost between our families, fighting on opposites sides of a growing war. Padfoot had chosen me last summer, and they abandoned him. I wanted to go over there and give them a piece of my mind, but I could barely meet their eye. They were a powerful family, and I was outranked and outnumbered. I kept my head down. Like a coward.

"I'd recognize that scruff anywhere," a deep, familiar voice called out from behind us. Moments later his arm was around my shoulders, his hand feebly trying to straighten my mop of hair. He shook his head with a huge smile on his face, "you know your granddad invented the exact fix for locks like these," he joked, his head a similar, although greyer, mess.

"Hey, dad,"

He let me go and clapped Sirius on the back, "See now look at his hair," he touched a strand, "absolute perfection."

"Please, dad, he doesn't need the encouragement."

"Let's get outta here, your mom is finishing up at the office and will meet us at the manor. Tobias has started your 'feast'."

He steered us through the station, an arm on each of our shoulders, his smile only fading to glare fiercely at the Black family patriarch. Emboldened with my dad at my side, I too shot them my best glare.

"So how are my boys," he said as we passed them, "get into any trouble recently?"

I smiled big. I was home. I caught Padfoot's eye with a sideways smile. No, we were home.