A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated this in so long. I focused on my original novel for NaNoWriMo, and I put all fanfiction to the side. I am now back to writing one shots, my full-length NextGen series, my full-length Soul Eater fic, and still on my original novel. THERE IS SO MUCH TO WRITE. I will hopefully get back to weekly updates for all my collections. I know I'll have a lot more time once finals are over. Whoo.
I hope this makes up for the long wait (:
CHARACTER: James Potter
YEAR: 3rd/1973
PLACE: outside the Ancient Runes classroom
WORDS: 858
Brains
James Potter is a bully.
James Potter is a problem child.
James Potter is spoiled rotten.
James Potter is an idiot.
James Potter is high on his own superiority.
James Potter is a pureblood elitist.
James Potter couldn't recognize an insult if it bit him in the arse.
Comments followed him through his first and second years at Hogwarts—all of those from people who didn't like him, for whatever reason. He had never been told he was a bad child, never been in trouble before, never been told he wasn't better than anyone who wasn't a pureblood, never been told that there was nothing wrong in offering a helping hand to the Muggleborns. After all, they had not grown up in the wizarding world, and they needed all the help they could get. He also knew that he was better than everyone else. Throughout his life, his parents and his parents' friends and coworkers had nothing but positive things to say about him, always praising his knowledge of magical creatures and prowess at Quidditch, saying he'd make a great Transfiguration professor with the way he spewed facts about it.
No one at school knew he was actually really good at school. He had problems with Potions and History of Magic. But then, who didn't?
"Oh, great, James Potter and his friends are in this class. Did you have to bribe the professor to allow you in?" Lily Evans says, crossing her arms over her chest. "Remus is the only one that could ever have the attention span necessary for this study." She pointedly raises her head, glaring at him.
James smirks. "What, Evans? Afraid I'll actually be better than you at something else?"
A collective "oh" rises from the assembled students. Severus Snape steps up to stand next to the red-headed third year Gryffindor. "Unlikely. You have to have brains to succeed in this class."
"Then why are you here?" Sirius asks, face a perfect mask of mystification. "Purebloods like ourselves have a natural talent for things like this. Remus, of course, is an exception—he's fucking brilliant."
"Thank you so much for that," Remus says, hanging his head. James knows he's been trying desperately to convince his classmates that he and Sirius really aren't as bad as their peers make them out to be, but with Peter sitting by his side and insisting that the two are two of the most brilliant and deserving people at the school, it is very difficult. Many are absolutely positive the opposite is true.
"Shut up, Black. One of the best students in our year is a Muggleborn," Snape snaps.
James grins wickedly. "Did you just tell us to shut up?" He folds his arms lazily and turns to Sirius. "Really, brother, I think he just told us to shut up."
Sirius mirrors James. "Indeed, brother. I think he should be taught a lesson."
"Indeed," James agrees. Together, they whip out their wands faster than their classmates can comprehend what is going on. In unison, they flick their wrists, mouths opening—
"Mr. Potter! Mr. Black! What is the meaning of this?"
Professor Moore is striding down the corridor with a folder of notes in hand. "Are you threatening fellow students?"
"Of course not, Professor," James says innocently, dropping his arm. Sirius keeps his raised. "We felt threatened, actually. Snape was just telling us we would fail your class, because—according to him—purebloods can't understand Ancient Runes."
"It made us feel…not good," Sirius adds, finally dropping his arm, as well. He turns his face to Professor Moore, his well-practiced puppy-dog look overtaking his normally over-confidently smug expression.
James also adopts sad eyes and a deep frown, something he had learned very early on works very well with some of their teachers. Being thirteen, he isn't sure if it still will, but it is worth a try.
The Ancient Runes professor spins to Snape, long, honey-blonde hair swinging dangerously from her ponytail. "Is what they say true?"
Snape gapes. Lily's face is turning as red as her hair. "It isn't!" she says. "They were—"
"It is so true!" a girl from behind her pipes up. She pushes her way roughly forward. "Lily, you are not going to stand up for him, are you?" Marlene McKinnon marches past her to stand next to the four Gryffindor boys. "He was completely in the wrong here!"
Students begin nodding agreement. "He was pretty awful to them," one boy says. Another shrugs and replies, "If he hadn't said anything, they wouldn't have anything to feel threatened by, would they?"
"You cannot be serious!" Lily shrieks with a stomp of her foot.
Without missing a beat, Sirius says, with a raise of his hand, "But I am."
Their peers laugh, and Professor Moore shushes them quickly. "In! Now! I will deal with you three later!"
None of them wants to push her buttons, so they follow their peers into the classroom, James and Sirius glaring hatefully at Snivellus and Evans. The boys take seats next to Remus and Peter in the back of the room, and Snivellus and Evans go up front.
Good, James thinks.