Author's Note: Thanks for sticking with me so far. It's just the beginning! They'll be heading to Hogwarts soon enough :).
Chapter 3: An Unexpected Return
By the time James and his new friends rejoined Diagon Alley's main area, James had already convinced the pair of them to stick around for the rest of his planned Diagon Alley trip. He felt it was in everyone's best interest to try and cheer the little blonde boy up, and at least keep him company until he was calm enough to go home on his own. Or at least that's what they figured since Pettigrew never mentioned any family with him that day. Sirius, on the other hand, seemed to have once again dropped his mature and aristocratic tendencies.
Poor Peter Pettigrew appeared traumatized to the point that both Sirius and James couldn't help but feel sympathetic for the kid. Sirius, who never really had much of a talent for cheering people up, left that part to James. Instead, he took the reigns of James' list and led the way to their next and following destinations.
Their first stop was Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlour; one could never have too much ice cream! The three of them all agreed that the sweetness would do them all some good, not to mention, the boys were feeling a tad bit hungry anyway. They sat just outside of the shop at a small wooden table under the warm sunlight, all eating, drinking, and discussing interests and others of the sort. James had ordered his usual ice cream and even went as far as to pay for Peter's icy-mulberry drink. Sirius, who in attire alone looked rich enough to pay for half of the supplies in Diagon Alley, bought some extra snacks for all to share, but didn't get anything specifically for himself. He was apparently a bit too busy using a quill and a piece of parchment that he 'borrowed' from a careless, passing wizard to write down a list of the places they were to go next.
"Hey," said James after he swallowed a large scoop, "You don't really have to do that, you know… Aren't you going to get something to drink, at least?"
Sirius merely looked up at James and replied, "No drink for me, thanks." He paused for a minute and wrote another shop on the parchment before finishing, "I don't want to have us standing around looking for something to do. I'm not one to stand around looking dumb, if yah ask me."
Peter nodded his head mutely, agreeing with Sirius, and then popped a rock-like candy in his small mouth. James said nothing, but managed to pull of his usual grin. Peter apparently had a sort of invisible respect for Sirius that even he could identify. The messy-haired boy knew that blonde lad thought of them all as friends, but figured that he had a slight more respect for Sirius than himself. James didn't feel offended or jealous in anyway, though. Instead, he found it rather humorous and somewhat adorable. Sirius did hold on to the Black name, and it was that name that ensured that Bellatrix wouldn't pull a fast one on them.
"So, James, you're going to Hogwarts too, right?" asked Sirius, thoughtfully, "You had the same list I had, so I figured..."
James nodded, "You bet, I am! You're an incoming first year too, then?" he inquired back. Sirius nodded, then wrote another shop on the parchment. "Great!" The messy-haired boy then turned to Pettigrew and said, "Don't worry, you'll get your Hogwart's letter when you're old enough, and when you do, Sirius and I will still be you're good friends, alright, mate?"
The blonde seemed somewhat distraught by this, looking at both of them rather embarrassedly. Both Sirius and James looked questionably back at him and asked what the problem was. Peter looked down for a moment, murmuring something under his breath. His voice was so low that neither of them were able to hear a single word.
"What was that?"
He twiddled his thumbs and mumbled, "B-but… I already got my letter."
James stared at the boy, rather dumbfounded. Sirius did somewhat of the same thing.
"You—You're going to Hogwarts this year?" they asked in unison.
Young Pettigrew nodded.
"Exactly how old are you, Pettigrew?" asked James, eating the last bit of ice cream in his glass.
"A tad bit younger than you, James…" he replied, biting his lip, "I just turned eleven 'bout four months ago."
James couldn't help but frown at his horrible misjudgment, and tried his best to make it up to him. Sirius shoved the last bit of candy left on the table into his mouth before he began to fold the piece of parchment and tuck it away in his pocket.
"All done?" asked James, trying to change the subject, "Well—uh—do either of you have a favorite Quidditch team? The Vratsa Vultures are a great team to watch, don't you think?"
"Bulgaria, huh? I agree they're a great team to watch," responded Sirius, scratching his head. "But as for my favorite team… well, you'll have to give me to minute."
Sirius crossed his arms thinking about the number of Quidditch teams there were in all. The handsome chap wasn't much of a player, but he was extremely interested in watching the sport James learned through their conversations. Both James and Peter waited patiently for his response, but all in vain. Nearly five minutes passed, and the only thing Sirius could come up with was that he really didn't have a favorite team. James rumpled the back of his hair, and went on to deepen the conversation with Sirius. The two boys both seemed to be real hard-core Quidditch fans, and soon enough they were already talking about the upcoming World Cup the following year.
Both Sirius and James were not only very clever and witty, but they also seemed to share a vast amount of interests. This was enough to make Pettigrew even more awed by them.
"Who do you think'll make it to the Cup?" asked Sirius, "Ireland hasn't been doing very well lately. So I'll bet they won't make it this time around... Still think Bulgaria?"
James pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and stared skyward, "Well 'course, Ireland definitely won't this time 'round… twenty-six losses, it's been a horrible season for 'em! Do you think the Arrows still have chance against the Vultures like they did in '32?"
"Naw… It would be a miraculous if they did, though." He replied, "Back in '32, that was pure luck! Pro'lly because of the dense fog and rain back then. Oh! And did you see the Daily Prophet's top story a week ago? Those Falcons might actually have a chance this year!"
James laughed, "One would have to be stupid not to have seen it! The Falcons are doing pretty well for themselves, even after Kevin and Karl's retirement two years ago." He shrugged, tapping his spoon against the table. "They ought to change their motto, though; they don't play as rough as they used to, don'cha think?"
"I agree with you there! Them Broadmoor brothers were the brawn behind the team!"
"Yeah, not a bit of brain in 'em, but a whole lot of power! Without the brothers, they just seem like any other team…"
The two Quidditch fanatics continued to critique the Quidditch World on every single aspect even as they began walking toward their next destination. Several times, the two of them tried getting young Peter into their conversation, but the boy refused to take part.
The youngest of the three seemed to enjoy just listening in on their conversation. His round eyes seemed to brighten every time either James or Sirius would remark something he never knew before. And there was quite of lot he didn't know about. James tried his best to get the blonde-haired boy to talk with them, but his response was always either an 'I don't know' or '…' kind of response. This being the case, it was only obvious that they eventually stopped asking him at all. Their pudgy little friend didn't seem to mind being ignored. He actually preferred it.
Quality Quidditch Supplies was probably the best place one could find anything Quidditch—a haven for any aspiring player. By popular demand, the three of them set off for the store at once. James found it to be his favorite shop in all of Diagon Alley, and it would have been Sirius' as well if not for the fact that he had not been inside the shop before. His mother detested the sport and wouldn't let him even set foot into the shop. Thankfully, the handsome chap's mother was nowhere in sight and the lot of them were in the clear.
"That's got to suck, mate…" muttered James, shoving his hands into his front pockets, "I'd hate to be kept away from something I really liked. You sure you still want to go in?"
Sirius frowned. "What do you mean…? Of course I'm going in! There's no way I'm going to keep you from your fun just because of me mum," he retorted then turned around to see Peter squeaking in fright at the sight of an ugly wizard that had run into him. "Com'on you, quit fooling around and get over here!"
Peter scampered toward them hastily. He quickly clutched his hands against Sirius' shirt, shaking fiercely. James, who had been completely oblivious to what had scared Peter so badly, walked into the shop his eyes completely transfixed on the new broom that had just come in stock: the Nimbus 1001.
James appeared to be in some sort of trance upon entering the shop. His eyes darted about the place in great wonder and anticipation; his obsession with Quidditch was far beyond what either Sirius or Peter could have possibly imagined. The messy-haired boy ran from each end of the room fingering practically every single appliance that was marked and labeled as new. The boy ran about so fast, moving from item to item that not even Sirius could keep up with him. If James wasn't accepted into some field of Quidditch during his lifetime, Sirius would think that the entire bloody world was had gone mad. There was no one in the entire Wizarding World who was this obsessed with the game other than James Potter.
"My, my, James. Haven't seen you here since last week!" exclaimed a rather flamboyant voice.
It was the shopkeeper, Mr. William Soles, in his regular everyday attire gazing interestedly at him from his counter. It was obvious to anyone that James was a regular customer here, and young William had been rather acquainted with the boy for some time.
James looked up from the piece of cleaning cloth he had been inspecting and grinned, "Oy, Will. I've been busy—Hogwarts stuff. You went there didn't you?"
"Well, of course. I graduated about five years ago," William Soles rubbed the side of his neck. He pushed himself away from the counter and walked leisurely toward James, "We've gotten loads of new items since you last came. My old man ordered them all just a couple days ago… he thinks it's about time I took his job for him."
James laughed, "So that's why you're in here? You used to only work at the shop on weekends," he then turned to Peter and Sirius who had been standing in mutual silence some feet away from him. "By the way, that there's Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. They're friends of mine."
William tipped his work hat to them and smiled. "Pleasure meeting both of you," he said, "Since you're mates with James, you might find yourself coming into my store more often than most! Better get acquainted now than never!"
James could only hold the conversation for a few more seconds before speeding off to inspect the rest of the store. He spent a majority of his time, however, lingering in front of the glass case (no doubt, triply charmed to keep from thieves) that concealed the new line of Nimbus brooms that were coming out. His friends could only watch him move about the store laughing. William took the honor of explaining to the others that this was just in the Potter's nature—Fleamont Potter and James' grandfather both shared this love.
After being in the store for about half an hour or so, the messy-haired boy finally finished poking around everywhere. He cheerfully walked over to where Sirius and Peter were leisurely chatting just in front of the store, and excitedly displayed to them what he had bought.
"Here," he said, handing each of his friends a thin book that read Quidditch Through the Ages by Kennilworthy Whisp, "I bought one for each of us!"
Peter squealed in excitement and quickly flipping through it. Sirius, on the other hand, furrowed his brow. "Why'd you buy an extra?" asked the handsome chap, catching sight of two of the same book in the small bag James carried.
"Huh?" Adjusting his glasses, James looked into the bag and pulled out, not one but two copies. One for himself and the other one for…? "Oh, William must have given me an extra one… Ah well, I don't feel like going in again. I might lose myself in a Quidditch-spree again."
They all laughed.
It was about this time however that James noticed that it was almost thirty minutes till eight; his mom could be at Leaky Cauldron at any minute now! He hesitated to be separated from his newly found friends, and didn't know how to go about bringing up the topic of separation. He really wanted to get to know Peter and Sirius a bit more before school started. If only he hadn't spent so long entranced in his bloody obsession! They could have gone to loads of other places that Sirius had suggested on his small piece of parchment.
Sirius, being able to read through James, also seemed quite troubled by this and was forced to ask; "We're seeing each other at Hogwarts, right?"
"Of course," Said James, his worries escaping him. The lot of them had stood up and began walking in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.
By the time they had reached the Leaky Cauldron all of their clothes were distinctly messed up and each of them had their share of charcoal smudges all over their faces. Sirius had, along the way, decided to take everyone for a few detours through a few shops to simply fool around and make fun. Sirius seemed to have the same knack for trouble that James did, and they worked as brilliant troublemaking partners. A few explosions here and there during their stay in the Apothecary shop had made their appearance what it was now. They only tried a few minor tricks, but these 'minor tricks' ended up resulting in an utter potion disaster. The shop owner's cat had to chase them out despite the fact that the shop owner, herself, laughed right along with the other spectators that saw them. The trio had laughed it off too, of course.
Several passing people stared at them as they entered the Cauldron, giving them quizzical looks. Only Peter seemed to be troubled by what others thought of their attire. They were a mess! Despite that though, the lot had the time of their lives and they weren't going to let anyone ruin it for them.
Everyone except for Mrs. Potter it seemed.
"James!" she gasped in surprise. Just as any mother would, Euphemia Potter began patting out the blotches all over her son with her bare hands, "What did I tell you about making trouble? Oh—and who might these two strapping young boys be?"
"Uh… Hi mum. More like, brewing trouble, right guys?" inquired the messy-haired boy to his friends. They all chuckled. "This is, here, is Pettigrew and the handsome one is Sirius. They're first years too!" James said rumpling his hair nervously out of habit.
"It's nice to meet the both of you. You boys didn't happen run into anything dangerous, did you?" She asked them, her face up in worry.
"If my cousin, Bellatrix, counts then yes."
Mrs. Potter gave a sigh of relief. It was obvious to anyone that she didn't know how dangerous the young Ms. Black could be, but no one wished to elaborate.
"You all seem to be perfectly fine here. So, James, I'll go on ahead so that you three can say your good byes. You don't mind traveling by Floo powder again do you, dear?" asked Mrs. Potter, ignoring the blunt expression on James's face. She then turned to Sirius and Peter, "I guess I'll see you two at King's Cross? If possible, you all should come visit for lunch. Oh, James, do invite them, would you? And I've already brought your things home so no need to worry about your good owl! Smart little bird she is—so loyal! She already knew who I was!"
With that said, Mrs. Potter pulled out her wand, waved it a bit, and the three-charcoaled faces were cleaned away. Then she smiled at them all, said her goodbye, and then with a loud crack she disappeared from sight. Peter's mouth remained hanging and he stared at the place where she had just disappeared. Sirius and James had once again engaged themselves in another conversion.
"Your mum really cares about yah, mate." Sirius said smiling, "I wish I had a mum like that."
"You're mother is just as cool as you are!" it was the first thing Peter had said in a while, and it startled both Sirius and James to hear his voice again. In that instance, their eyes locked with one another. Peter had a sort of twinkle in his eye when he smiled at Sirius, but when his eyes locked with James a painful emptiness that hadn't been there since that morning crawled back into the messy-haired boy's heart.
"Um… James?"
"You look pale, mate…" Sirius said taking a closer look at him.
James sighed heavily and shook his head. Why did that feeling come back to him again? He tried all this time to forget about it, but it still continued to haunt him. "It—It's nothing, honest." James lied shuffling his feet. Obviously the two didn't believe a word he said since they were still looking at him with great worry. "Believe me, I just got a chill. It's nothing serious—"
BEEP BEEP BEEP. Both James and Sirius jumped at the obnoxiously loud and random beeping noise that had blasted from out of nowhere. Sirius even went so far as to cover his ears; it was so loud! Peter blinked and everyone else in the room stared at him. It was completely obvious that the sound was coming from him since there was a flashing light on his shirt that went along with noise. Peter flushed red.
"Sorry…It's my mum," explained the blonde, trying to cover the blinking light with his hand. "I—I have to get going."
"Right," Sirius said flashing a particularly charming smile, which made a group of girls nearby squeal with delight. "See you on the train, mate. Better yet, some time sooner?"
Peter smiled, waved to the both of them, and waddled away.
When the pudgy little boy had left the vicinity of the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius turned back to James hoping to strike up another great conversation. Strangely enough, he was startled by the dumbfounded look the messy-haired boy was giving from behind his round spectacles.
"S-Something wrong?" he gawked.
"How did you do that?" James asked him, his eyes wide.
"Do what?"
Sirius apparently had no clue what he had just done, and he cocked his left eyebrow upward. James, on the other hand, crossed his arms.
"How did you make those girls squeal like that…?" James asked again his eyes narrowing in suspicion. James knew there had to be some kind of secret to it, there just had to be! James had never seen girls swoon like that before in his life! Was it because he looked so mature? Was it Sirius's hair? His eyes? Clothes? The girls looked much older than they were, and young Black had the power to bend them! How…?
"You mean… the group of girl over there?" Sirius inquired pointing to them. They once again squealed in ultimate delight at being noticed.
James was left without anything to say; he just continued to stare in awe at how good Sirius was in this kind of predicament. He wasn't even trying! James glanced back at the group of girls who were now talking amongst themselves and giggling like crazy fan girls. You would have thought that they were on something by the way they jumped up and down, squealed, and clapped their hands. It was even worse than how Peter did it.
"Don't mind them." Sirius sighed.
"Huh. Are you sure you're only 11?"
Sirius shrugged.
"Hey, um, you wanna come over my house sometime? I'd love to show you my Quidditch collection!" James said tearing his eyes away from the ladies.
"I'd like that." Sirius nodded, "I'll have to appeal to me mum, though, so bad luck today. I'd honestly do anything to get away from that ruddy old place."
James cocked his head in a puzzled manner, but Sirius shook his hands in a motion to forget about it. James took his word for it and Sirius left Leaky Cauldron after seeing his new Hogwarts friend off via Floo Powder.
From the moment he arrived home that day, James Potter's parents could tell that their son was not acting like his usual everyday self. True, the day had passed and night had finally come upon their humble abode, but both Euphemia and Fleamont Potter knew he wasn't acting this way because it was getting close to bedtime. It was quite the opposite, really. James appeared much happier than before, full of life and full of stories. He told his parents about almost everything that happened that day. Almost everything. But the way he spoke, you would have thought the messy-haired boy had gone off on an amazing adventure to another world. He drew his parents in with every word, drawn so much that they only began eating their supper when the food had already gone cold.
"My, James," pitched Fleamont, grinning. "Sounds like quite the day you had!"
James beamed. "Made some amazing friend, too, Dad," he explained, as he watched his father walk slowly toward his usual sport by the fireplace. "Mum, you tell 'im!"
"Alright, alright, I'll be there!" exclaimed his mother from the other room.
Mrs. Potter was busy cleaning up the table and whatever mess was left about in the kitchen. She had to make perfectly sure that none of the plates went in the wrong direction or smashed into each other when she wasn't looking. China plates were always the most devious of platters once enchanted. They were so full of themselves; they liked destroying all the other plates when you weren't looking. It was a platter war of dominance; at least, that's what Fleamont called it. She couldn't possibly give them even a second's chance alone.
"You said one of your friends is a Black, did you, son?" inquired the boy's father, taking his seat. Fleamont, being a tad bit older in years for a wizard, had hard time moving around too much sometimes. James always offered his assistance, but his father would never allow it. "From your description, he doesn't sound like a bad kid. I'd like to meet this… What's his name again?"
"Sirius, Sir," replied the messy-haired boy, smiling.
"Ahh… Sirius Black? I'd like to meet him. And what's the other one's name?"
"Pettigrew. Peter Pettigrew. D'you know his family, Dad?"
His father shook his head slowly, but immediately indicated the he'd love to meet Peter too. "Any friend of my son is welcome here," he stated, ruffling the top of James's hair. "Why don't you owl them an invitation? You can pick them up at the Leaky Cauldron maybe tomorrow or now, perhaps?"
James stared. "Now?" he mouthed, "You mean it?"
"'Course I do! Would I ever say anything I wouldn't mean? That's only if they're willing to write a few letters, of course."
Before Fleamont could even finish his sentence, James had already rushed out of the living room, passed the kitchen where his mother curtly reminded him not to run in the house, into their second living room, up the stairs, through the hallway, and finally into their private house owlery. Compared to other places, their owlery happened to be the smallest room in their house. It was the smallest, but exceptionally cozy and warm. Cozy for both the owls and the caretakers. It was a wonderful room, and Potters took great pride in it.
Upon entering the room, James could already see his gray owl waiting for him at the furthest end of the room. Cinder greeted him with a hoot, flapping her wings, excited that he had come to see her so soon. It almost seemed like she knew that James was going to send out his first letter that night, but then again, the boy did make an extreme ruckus coming upstairs.
"H-hold on a sec," he breathed, trying to catch his breath. He stroked Cinder's soft feathers first before reaching for an empty sheet of parchment, a quill, and ink. "Quaffle, mind shining me a bit of light, please?"
Crack. Suddenly, out of what appeared to be nowhere, a faint light illuminated the room. Although it was faint, it was enough for James to be able to see what he was writing. As soon as he had a clear view of the parchment, he quickly dipped his quill into the ink bottle and then began scribbling in somewhat sloppy-yet-neat handwriting:
Sirius! Pettigrew!
Me dad said you guys could come by my house tomorrow. Says he'd like to have a look at both of you. Don't worry, he's great. He won't bite too hard. Me mum's just as thrilled. It'd be great of you both could come by. We could meet up at the Leaky Cauldron in the morning. Perhaps… you could persuade your parents to let you guys spend the night…? My folks'd be glad to have you guys around. We could do a whole bunch o' things. Owl me as soon as you can, all right, mates? See you both soon then.
James
As soon as he finished, James lifted the parchment upward and once again called, "Quaffle, can you duplicate this for me?" As soon as the boy had said it, the parchment had suddenly become two in his hands. The messy-haired boy smiled warmly as he rolled up the parchments, tied them, and then attached them to Cinder for her to carry to his two new friends. And as if by instinct, Cinder was off into the night just as James had finished the last knot.
He sighed feeling somewhat satisfied with himself as he watched his faithful owl swoop away until she was completely indistinguishable in the oncoming darkness.
"Will that be all, Master James?" asked a rather croaky high-pitched voice from the doorway of the owlery.
It was the Potter house elf, Puffle, whom James had taken to calling Quaffle instead. He insisted to his parents that it was a nickname. 'Puffle' never seemed to stick appropriately in his mind; then again, the only thing that was ever on the messy-haired boy's mind was Quidditch. Quaffle just… came naturally. Ever since the boy could remember, he had always called the Puffle, Quaffle. It just seemed better, and the house elf never seemed to have any qualms about having such a sports-y nickname. Actually, she had become quite accustomed to it.
Puffle was a lucky house elf, and she knew it. Most pureblood families that owned house elves treated them lower than slaves, and gave them the grubbiest of things to wear. Sometimes only a towel or torn curtain was used to wrap about their bony bodies, only able to barely cushion their bodies whence they were beaten. Beatings were a norm when it came to wizard-elf treatment, but the Potters seemed to be one of few purebloods left that actually went against the norm. They treated her an equal. She even had her own little cozy room! Puffle was actually one of very few that actually liked the family she served. The Potters always treated her kindly and never ungratefully. They owed Puffle a lot, and she, in turn, owed a lot to them as well.
Her large, dark brown eyes almost smiled back at James with as much pride as his parents did. There was no doubt that this house elf would do anything to stand up for her young master no matter what. She would do anything to protect the family she served.
"Yep, thanks loads!" exaclaimed James, walking out of the owlery and giving ol' Puffle a nice pat on the head. James especially liked the fact that in places where he couldn't perform magic because of his being underage, he could simply ask Quaffle to do it for him. She was extremely obedient to them.
Her long, droopy ears seemed to perk up slightly, and a wide elf-smile spread across her wrinkled (but clean) face. Like smoke, and as quickly as she had seemed to appear in the owlery, she vanished from sight. Her job was done, and James was now on his way to his bedroom to occupy himself with useless things. It was still early, the boy had checked the time as soon as he stepped in. The snitch-shaped clock situated just opposite of his door made it somewhat easy (It fluttered from side to side periodically) for him to merely glance up and see what he wanted. He shrugged lightly: 10:45 pm. It was late already, and there was hardly any hope that he'd get a prompt reply if his new friends went to bed according to curfew. At least, he had a feeling young Pettigrew did.
The Potters had never been that strict about bedtime curfews like most families were. It was always 9:00 sharp and the kids were off to bed. James, on the other hand, had a habit of both sleeping and waking up whenever he pleased. His parents were exceptionally lenient with their son; after all, he was their miracle child. Only son. Spoiled and pampered to the core. Despite all of this though, the 11 year old still kept up with his responsibilities. If he were told to wake up early because something was happening the following day, he'd obey without a single violent reaction. It was only a few times that his parents seemed to ask things from him, and it only seemed proper that he repay their lenience with a bit of obedience. They were, after all, amazing parents. James loved them and he wouldn't exchange them for the world.
With not but a quiet oof! James plopped down on his soft, silky, queen-sized bed. He didn't quite feel up for sleeping yet, but just lay there staring up at his ceiling. Unlike most ceilings, James had pleaded with her father to create for him a transparent one. He had heard so much about the enchanted ceiling within the Great Hall of the Hogwarts' Castle that he could help but desire something like that in his very own room. Unlike Great Hall, which was only enchanted to make it look like the sky outside, James's ceiling was made transparent so that he could actually see the real sky outside. It was like glass, but not fragile at all.
The boy wasn't at all surprised when he was unable to spy even a single star in the dark sky above him. Another cloudy night, huh? He thought, frowning. It quite literally felt like he was lying out on the grass outside just gazing upward; James had grown to love the feeling, especially the feeling of the breeze through his hair. Unfortunately, however, his room had no breeze or the chirping of crickets like he'd experience outside at a time like this, but the sky was good enough for him at the moment. Seeing the moon peeking out from behind clouds was enough for him. It was hard to tell what phase the moon was, but James reckoned that it was probably a gibbous, though; he was never really that good at drawing the line between gibbous and full.
James would have liked to get up from his bed and go find something to do before Cinder returned from her journey, but he felt like a dozen weights were holding him down. I shouldn't have lain down, now he didn't feel like getting up at all! The power in his arms had drained; he couldn't even find it in himself to sit up. He was too comfortable. Eventually, during the period of time that the messy-haired boy was deciding whether to get up or not, his eyes began to droop and he finally drifted into a rather peaceful slumber.
Tap. Tap. Tap. James groaned, tossing over on his side to snuggle deeper against his comforter. Tap. Tap. Tap. He yawned, loudly, at the annoying noise and tried drifting again, but unfortunately, the tapping didn't cease. Tap. Tap. Tap. It kept going off and on until finally James had no choice but to rub his eyes and unwillingly get up out of bed. He sat up, world spinning before his eyes for a while until it all came together. He yawned again, stretched his arms, and stood up. Tap. Tap. Tap. Groggily, he turned his turned his head to his lone window at the far end of his room; whatever that irritating tapping noise was, it was coming from outside.
"Who is it?" he muttered, sounding like he was about to yawn again.
Tap. Tap. Tap. James blinked: he saw it this time. He just had to look again just to make sure. His eyes widened at the sight of it. Immediately after noticing whom it was at his window, the boy rushed over and opened the window. He could feel his heart beating faster and faster as he allowed Cinder back into his room. The one thing that caught his attention wasn't his bird… It was the little roll of parchment attached to her leg. She had not come home empty handed.
Out of pure curiosity, the boy shot a glance at his clock once more before rushing to Cinder to detach the parchment. Surprisingly enough, the time read 2:26 in the morning. Why had it taken Cinder so long to get back…? Did Peter and Sirius live that far from each other? James didn't even think of the mere idea of one of them living outside of London. He had never bothered asking them. If they indeed live that far apart, did that mean that one of them was still awake at this late hour…? James's felt his stomach flip as he unrolled the letter: it was from Sirius. The amazingly scripted handwriting was evidence enough; wouldn't his handwriting be perfect just like the rest of him?
James,
Glad to hear from you so quick! I wasn't expecting an owl from you just yet, but I'm glad of it. Seriously. Much appreciation, mate. I really needed it. Anyway, it's already morning. I'm heading over to Leaky Cauldron right now, so can I have you pick me up? I'll fill you in later. Thanks a bunch, James! You're a pal. See you in a few.
Sirius
James stared hard at the letter, mouth gaping. He had to reread it several times before he actually understood what his new acquaintance was trying to tell him. Now? Did he mean now now? Or 'now' as in the now after he sent Cinder back now? How long had he been asleep? How long had Cinder been tapping at the window? How long ago had Sirius actually sent this letter…? There were so many questions that raced through the messy-haired boy's mind. He couldn't really comprehend what he was to do first.
Mechanically, he dropped the letter and ran out of his room. The hallways were all dark. His parents must be sound asleep by now. Then again, it was almost three in the morning; any normal wizarding family would be asleep at this hour. To know that Sirius had actually gone to Leaky Cauldron this early in the morning to be picked up was just an insane idea... But then again, everything about what they had gone through the day prior had already been borderlining insane already. Who's to say Sirius hadn't been waiting for two hours already?
To. Be. Continued.
A Taste of Foreboding
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