A/N - Just wanted to add for clarity - this is a Michael that died aged 77 years of age. This is NOT ruthless young Michael. This is a Michael reborn after dying in Sicily. A Michael that Part 3 of the Godfather showed that was far more mellow and tired. A reborn Michael would not automatically be the same as the Young Michael who fucked shit up.
He is in there, of course, but he won't resurface until he absolutely has to. Like what had happened in the book and movies.
Another point, this Michael revels in the quietness of his life even if he knows that it probably will not last. He is not the heir to the family. James is. And he is helping James be the Head of the family.
Don't be expecting ruthless Michael from the get-go. His choices were taken away from him last time and he felt he needed to do all that he did to make sure the family survived. He became the villain for the family, not because he wanted to or the power.
Michael knows the path it leads to and understandably doesn't want to take it even if he knows he will if he has to.
Also, personally, I like to believe that if Michael got the chance again, he'd absolutely take more of Vito's lessons at heart. He knows, in my opinion, that Vito had been a far better family man and Don than Michael had been. Circumstances contrived to push Michael where he went but given the chance, he'd do a lot more the Vito Way.
July 10, 1971
James Potter POV
"James!" he heard his mother shout at the bottom of the stairs.
"COMING!" he shouted back and he quickly ran the waxy stuff through his hair again, his hands moving through his hair with the speed of a looney leprechaun.
He stopped, his hands dropping low and slow, his gaze fixed upon the reflection of himself in the mirror. He was wearing his dark auburn Heir robes emblazoned with the Potter Crest whilst underneath his robes he wore a white shirt and a red tie with black trousers. But that wasn't what completed his looks.
His hair was gleaming red and gold, his normally bird's nest of a hair spiked like porcupine spines, and they glittered with every hue of red and gold whenever he moved his head, akin to a dancing flame under a gentle gush of air.
A slow grin made its way on his face until it resembled a Cheshire grin and he almost thought he could see his teeth sparkle in the same way as Silas' teeth did in the Nobby the Nundu books whenever something exciting was about to happen.
He heard his mother shout his name one more time and it broke him out of his self-admiration and he quickly grabbed the wet towel and wrung his hands with the towel removing all of the gucky stuff from his hands.
He almost made way to the door before he stopped and turned back towards the mirror. His pointed both of his index fingers at his reflection as he fell into a pose.
"You look good Mr Potter." He said in a pompous voice. His hand went to his tie, the heir ring on his middle finger twinkling under the dim light, and he gave a good little shake before he bowed his head slightly.
"Thank you Mr Potter. It takes effort to look this good, hum hum" James muttered in what he thought was a very good gruff and cool voice.
"JAMES! SO HELP ME…"
James stiffened and sheepishly looked at the mirror "It seems I must go." He said with an upturned chin and a wave of his arm, his steps slow and suave but when he made it out of his bedroom he quickly sped up and practically flew down the stairs.
When he arrived in the reception hall, where the Floo stood, he saw his family waiting on him and James quietly thought that his family looked pretty good.
…and very formal and serious too.
Uncle Charlus looked commanding in his dark indigo robes despite looking a little unsteady as he leaned on an eagle headed cane that bore the Potter crest.
A commanding presence that Michael had and more. Where uncle Charlus' hair was free-flowing – just as the hair of that of his father – Michael's was slick back, every inch of his hair tightly controlled just as Michael always was. He was dressed in navy blue robes that bordered on being black, a stark contrast to his pale skin.
His father wore his favoured tweed dark tartan robes and his favoured brown round glasses. It was quiet and subtle but it had distinction and authority.
Aunt Dorea wore an intricate and peanut coloured gown that looked as if it was dripped in liquid silver. There was almost a regal-ness about her.
A regal-ness that his mother matched as she stood in an earthy green summer dress and her presence was of the same subtlety and sophistication as that of father.
"Finally, honestl-…"
…Which she lost quickly after she saw him.
His mother stopped in her sentence, her mouth falling open as her eyes drew to his hair like ships would to a lighthouse on starless night and rowdy seas, and it was an act that his father and his aunt and uncle mirrored too.
Michael only looked on with a raised eyebrow and subtle surprise though he kept the carefree stance he had whilst the adults in the room slackened in disbelief.
James was impressed. The look of surprise looked so believable.
"What did you do?" His mother's voice was dangerous and low, her expression turning the normally sun-soaked skin of her face redder and redder as seconds ticked over. James almost winced at her tone and her growing fury.
Somehow he managed to keep an innocent expression.
"I don't know what you mean." James said with raised eyebrows, the innocence still there and to sell it further his brows furrowed closer together in confusion. "Is there something on my face?" he asked innocently before he grabbed a sleeve and tried to rub off a non-existent mark, an act that made his uncle chuckle after he recovered.
"Your son is a menace." Dorea said with an amusement smile, her grey eyes shimmering like a fire-doxie during the height of spring.
"Don't I know it" his mother said with a growl, her lips pinching. His father looked exasperated, the same tired look fixed on James like the time he'd crashed the broom into the greenhouse that ruined expensive and slow growing plants.
Father raised his wand at James. "James, your antics have poor timing." His father said sternly before a flash escaped his wand and James stiffened slightly but nothing happened and for a moment his innocent look broke and a shadow of smugness and triumph almost broke through but he managed to suppress it just in time.
The lack of anything happening startled his father before he frowned and cast again.
It still didn't work.
"Are you losing your touch in your old age, Flea?" Uncle Charlus questioned dryly, a flash of teasing in his tone. His father gave uncle Charlus an annoyed look.
His mother interrupted anything his father would have said with her own spell but just like his father's spell it didn't work.
His mother visibly red face resembled closely to the hue of red of the Spanish sun-kissed tomatoes she planted every spring. "Go back upstairs and fix your hair."
The words were hissed out in a single and fast breath and he almost wilted, his instincts almost making him turn and follow mother's command but then…
He remembered. He remembered her compliance with father's strict lessons this summer and it gave him courage – and plenty righteous indignation – to resist.
He knew that the Gala was important to his parents, even his mother who claimed she hated these kinds of pretentious nonsense often enough to Aunt Dorea, and what better way than to get a bit of revenge of an awful summer by making them fret?
"I don't know what you mean." James said as innocently as he could manage under the withering and disappointed look of his mother.
She looked as if she biting her words and simply levelled her wand at him, and a flash of yellow, a different spell he couldn't identify, sparked away from the tip of her wand and raced towards him and he felt he spell wash over him when it hit him.
"James…" His mother trailed with angry frustration when whatever she cast at him didn't work. She tried again though she verbally ground out the spell. "Finite!"
It still didn't work.
"James…" His father's voice was stern, the same sternness of voice he'd been subjected over the past month and he had to work hard to stop from cringing.
"Undo whatever you have done…now."
"I don't know how to." James said sheepishly. It was true. He hadn't really practiced the spell that Michael had made. "Honest!" he defended after seeing his parents' scepticism.
His father sighed disappointedly before he waved his wand with elaborate movement
"Finite Maximus!"
The wave of magic that washed over him was stronger any spell before and he thought he could feel the conjuration falter and break but the looks of his parents' faces made clear it was still there much to his relief. Michael really was good!
His mother was about to launch into another tirade and for a moment he was worried that she might actually douse him ice cold water to try and wash it off but thankfully Michael stepped in.
Michael calmly raised his wand and it seemed like father was going to stop him from using his wand as he was underage but Michael managed to cast before father could.
"Finite" Michael said as he waved his wand with a lazy gesture and James could feel his hair deflate atop his head and felt his hair become lighter. The wavy stuff was kind of a conjuration, one that in time would disappear all on its own but it also had a counter-spell.
A counter that Michael was applying right now. Michael created both spells, the conjuration and the counter, at the same time and in less than a week too.
It wasn't a Finite charm, not at all, it only had similar wand movements that could be easily misidentified as the Finite charm. The chant Michael was a misdirection since Michael could cast wordlessly and it all added up to a masterful prank.
His parents looked baffled, just as Michael's did though he could see that his uncle thought that something was afoot from the way he slightly narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
Gratefully, his uncle didn't say anything.
"I got lucky." Michael only said in response with a careless shrug of the shoulders to their bafflement and puzzled looks and James couldn't help the giggles and laughs that escaped from him at his mother's agape expression.
It did the trick as his parents finally broke out of their stupor and dawning understanding bloomed on their faces. James wanted to preen really. No one would dream of Michael helping in a prank. His aunt looked like she was caught in between being taken aback and wanting to smile at Michael's participation in the prank.
"Well" his father said as he cleared his throat, a look of tired exasperation on his face as his gaze flickered between James and Michael before turning to his aunt and uncle "It seems like your son is as much a menace as mine own is."
"I have no idea what you could possibly mean." Michael said calmly with a straight face, his head slightly tilted as if inquisitive, like an owl waiting for an address to take a letter to.
"It was all my idea." James said cheerfully, his hands moving upwards towards the back of his head, a mischievous glint in his dusty brown eyes.
"Michael would never prank. Not even if I, his favourite cousin, asked him to. And most certainly could never create spells in less than a week that could resist all kinds of cancelling spells." James' smile grew in a sly grin as the looks of amusement faded away from their parents' faces.
"Oh no, Michael wouldn't do any of that."
There was a brief silence as their parents absorbed James' words.
"Wait…" Aunt Dorea began, her wide grey eyes set on Michael.
"You created a spell, a spell and its counter no less, in the space of a week? That can resist dispelling charms like Finite?" Aunt Dorea asked incredulously. James didn't know why Aunt Dorea was so surprised. Or his parents and uncle Charlus.
Shouldn't everyone be able to create spells by the time they're third years?
"I did no such thing, mother." Michael's straight face cracked slightly, the corners of his mouth curling upward, a curl that James grinned at.
It looked so devious.
"As James so helpfully explained, I would never take part in a childish trick."
James laughed when Michael's curling smile widened, the deviousness practically radiating out from Michael and he enjoyed the stark silence that filled the reception
Mother and father exchanged a look that crashed into looks of misery before they looked to Michael, the misery misting away into twin deadpanned expression.
"Michael, from now on, you're banned from the manor. Forever."
Uncle Charlus' merry laugh filled the reception hall.
Once they arrived through the Floo, they were personally greeted and received by Archibald Bones, Lord and patriarch of House Bones and next to him stood his son Ernest Bones and his grandson Arthur Bones who was a few years older than James.
Lord Archibald Bones was a heavy-set and tall man with thick grey brows, his round face was marred with aging wrinkles, particularly around his wide forehead. Strangely there were no wrinkles around the lower parts of his face which looked as smooth as stony granite. He looked like he never once laughed in his life. Not even father looked like that and he was probably as old as Lord Bones.
Still, the old Lord was cordial in his greetings if stiff and dreary much like a weathered tree with withered branches during the height of winter. But then James didn't expect the Ball to be anything but stiff and dreary and pretentiously formal.
Ernest Bones was much thinner in comparison to his father, wiry and lean accompanied by a sharp gaze reminded James that of a hungry hawk eying its prey.
Arthur Bones was much like his father in appearance though there were traces of boredom that James thought he could see in the older boy's round face.
By the time James and his family arrived at the Gala, there had been three dozen guests in the huge courtyard and gardens out at the back of Bones Manor. Now, an hour later, that number closely approached to over a hundred and more guests.
There was a band that provided the music, the kinds of music his mother would often put on the gramophone, and food and drink floated by around in large disc trays.
The food was great, the people less so. James was introduced to many people, mostly old people who talked like his centuries dead ancestors did in their portraits. He was also introduced to other children, his peers that were about his age, and many did their best to speak in the same way as their grandfathers and great-grandfathers did.
Much to James' dismay.
Still, he was courteous and formal every time he was introduced and spoken to and he kept his resentment down. It was part of the deal with Michael in exchange for his help in pranking his parents who deserved it – and worse – after this summer.
This summer had been the worst of his life. His father had been a harsh taskmaster. Topics like politics, his rights and duties as heir to House Potter, traditions of the Potters and that of the nobility, Wizengamot procedure and even decorum.
All of that had filled his summer days when he should be out flying and trying spells but his father accepted none of James' pleas or 'antics', even going so far as threatening to ban Quidditch at home and ban him from trying out for the school team at Hogwarts should he not sit and absorb everything his father had to teach.
Somehow father managed to be a hundred times worse than mother ever was when she taught him English, Latin and History.
Thankfully, most of the introductions hadn't lasted long and when his father had been dragged away for conversation, he was left alone. He didn't see anyone he knew – most of the kids, the only kids, he knew were those from Godric's Hollow whenever he visited his aunt and uncle – but thankfully he found and latched himself to Michael who was with a crowd of older boys and girls of about sixteen strong.
They were a mixed crowd.
Some were heirs of noble families like the Fawleys, the Milifluas and the Montague's or scions like Amelia Bones and Kaiden Sykes whilst others were new money like the Orpingtons and the Vengals.
Many he was even sure were not Hufflepuffs either, especially since the Sykes' were a Slytherin family as he learnt from father. Still, James didn't comment on it, and he just watched Michael's interaction with them with curious eyes and in silence.
It was strange, the way they huddled around him.
It was kind of like Michael was a flame and they the moths, basking in the warmth and light of the fire. Michael would ask a short question, 'How's your aunt, is she feeling better? So you have kept up with fencing, good, how are you faring?' and it meant the world to them from the way their faces lit up and happily chatted away.
Even Arthur Bones' sister, Amelia, seemed to be drawn to Michael and he'd spoken to her earlier and thought her almost as stiff as her grandfather. Yet here, she was as eager as Crookbeak the hippogriff was when fed ferrets, the magical creature's favourite meal.
James, many years later, would remember this day as the first time he'd seen his cousin
After another hour or so passed it became time for dinner and they were seated at tables in a fanciful Celtic knot arrangement and at his table he sat by his father and mother across the Longbottoms and the Greengrasses whilst Michael and his aunt and uncle were a few table down by with the Sykes family and some other family he didn't really recognise.
James listened uninterestedly to the conversations around him with one ear as he ate, an act that the Greengrass heir, who sat on the far side, was also doing.
Father and Lord Greengrass talked about one potion after another and which plant could do this or that, and mother chattered with Lady Greengrass and the Lord and Lady Longbottom about this or that rumour or event.
When dinner was over, most of the guests had left.
Unfortunately, it seemed like he and his family would be staying for a while longer. There were a few other families that also stayed and he idly noted most of them were all noble Houses with seats on the Wizengamot.
Michael disappeared with the older kids before their parents disappeared into the bowels of the Manor and he was told not to leave the gardens and was left with the other kids his age. He felt like cursing everyone for leaving him here with this bunch.
"Ugh, for the love of Merlin's beard, can everyone stop talking like we are our parents?!" James exclaimed as he interrupted Smith's question about what they thought about the bill put forward that sought to tighten the investigative powers of the Department of Magical Enforcement.
It took the group aback and he was sure it jolted McKinnon back awake. How she could sleep with the Smith's nasally voice, James had no clue. Most of the others were not as bad as Smith but they still acted ridiculously. They were eleven!
Couldn't they talk about Quidditch or something?!
"Seriously! We've got ages to worry about that kind of crap. Who cares!" James said exasperated. 'I swear to Merlin, if I hear one more thing about the Wizengamot, I'm going to pull my hair out…and everyone else's!' James thought darkly.
"I care." Matthias Smith snapped.
"Good for you!" James snapped back before he breathed out heavily and looked around at the others. There were seven of them. Marlene McKinnon, Cyrus Greengrass, the Abbott twins, Edmund Gamp and of course Smith.
"Do any of you?" James posed to them. 'For the love of Nimue, don't you dare say yes'. The four others exchanged looks before they spoke up.
"No" "…Not really." "I'm not predisposed to anything" "Don't care" and Greengrass merely shrugged and James almost wanted to kiss them all. James turned back towards Smith who looked betrayed by the group.
"See?" James waved triumphantly and Smith scowled at James.
"Fine." Smith ground out and petulantly crossed his arms before he crashed into his chair and did his hardest to avoid looking at James.
There was a lull, a long lull as everyone fell quiet and it was becoming more and more awkward as seconds became minutes. Great, James thought defeated.
Was there really nothing else they could talk about if they weren't pretending to be exactly like their parents? 'Fine, I'll start then' James thought to himself but he was beaten to the punch by Greengrass.
"So…" Cyrus Greengrass drawled out as he stood up and stretched out.
Greengrass was short, shorter than James. Skinnier too. He had fair skin that stood out with his tied back dark hair. Greengrass had a dourness about him that James noticed earlier at the table. He didn't seem like he would be much fun and James thought he was forgettable.
Probably the way he likes it too, James thought to himself. The Greengrasses tended to be Slytherins from what he remembered in his lessons and never made much fuss.
So he hadn't really had much hope for whatever Greengrass was going to say. But it was better than stale and stifling silence. He hoped.
"What House do you think you'll be in?" Cyrus Greengrass asked the group whilst he walked away to one of the table and took a glass of water before he returned to his seat.
James' eyes lit up and so did the others. They all exchanged excited looks and it was Marlene McKinnon who spoke up first as she fidgeted with her green summer dress.
"I don't know" Marlene said with a bite of her bottom lip, her brows furrowed in concern before her fingers twirled and played with a lock of her glossy brown hair. "My brothers are in Ravenclaw and in Gryffindor so maybe one of those?" She hedged uncertainly. "Family leanings are important in the sorting I think"
James didn't know all that much about the McKinnons so he couldn't really say. She did answer first so she seemed bold he supposed so she might end up a Gryffindor.
"I do-" Lucy began.
"I will be in Hufflepuff" Matthias Smith declared, interrupting Lucy Abbot rudely. "Eight generations of Smiths in a row have gone there." Smith raised his chin and James would have sniggered at how similar the boy looked when James pretended to be pompous at the mirror had Smith's rudeness not upset Lucy Abbott.
"You interrupted Lucy." James said flatly with a glare with the boy he was starting to really dislike.
"It's fine" Lucy said a little weakly with a defensive gesture and she wore a grateful smile for James for speaking up for her. Wilfred on the other hand glared at Smith and seemed to want to say something and probably would have had it not been for Lucy pulling on Wilfred's sleeve.
"Isn't it only three generations in a row?" Cyrus questioned suddenly and drew attention to himself. A smile began to dance around the corners of his mouth. "Carlisle Smith was a Ravenclaw if I remember my history well."
There was a glint of something in Cyrus' eyes and it reminded James of the look he'd seen on a starving kneazle in Godric's Hollow when it stalked an injured rat.
James snorted and eyed the Greengrass with a different set of eyes. Maybe he won't be so forgettable then if James thought what was going to happen happened.
Mathias Smith looked offended and even more so scandalised. "We don't talk about him." Smith scowled "Shame of the family, I say."
"Deserved to be disinherited for betraying the family by getting sorted in Ravenclaw" Smith said pompously.
"You don't seem so loyal." James cut in as he tapped his chin, eagerly joining the game. "Aren't Hufflepuffs meant to be loyal, especially to family…even if they're disgraced?"
James had no idea who Carlisle Smith was what he'd done to be considered a shame of the family but he did not believe for a second that he was disinherited for simply getting sorted in a different House. No one could do something that stupid right? If anything, James inwardly snorted, he probably told just told a joke and got banished for it if the rest of the Smiths were like the Smith in front of him.
Not that not knowing what the disinherited Smith actually mattered right now.
Smith looked red, his face blown up in embarrassment and James thought he looked a lot like a pufferfish. Smith's prickly ego probably was about the same size too. Fanciful images of James deflating a pufferfish with a needle flashed in his mind.
"Quite right." Cyrus said with a firm nod, his blue eyes glittering in mischief before he slyly looked at Smith "You sound a lot more like you'll be a Slytherin. Nothing wrong with that of course." Cyrus said reassuringly with an encouraging smile.
"I won't be a Slytherin!" Smith hissed "I'm a Smith! I'll be a Hufflepuff!"
"Of course" James readily agreed ignoring Smith's protestations, eager to put away his dislike of the house in favour of teasing the pompous Smith into oblivion.
He was too much pureblood-ish for his liking.
And rude…and had a punchable face. Had an annoying voice too. Actually, James thought, was actually anything about Smith to like at all?
He realised there wasn't.
"For the past hour, you mentioned a few times about what you would do once you sat in the Wizengamot and how you would convince everyone you were right" James paused for a second before he directly looked into Smith's widening eyes "What is that but ambition and cunning? The traits of a Slytherin?"
Personally, James thought he wasn't anything like a Slytherin. Not really.
"Right." Cyrus said with a nod to James before looking towards the tomato-faced Smith with a strange look of concern on his face "If your former kin was disinherited for being a Ravenclaw, as you say, what do you think your father will do to you?"
"Might even welcome back your half-brother to the family to replace you." Edmund Gamp piped up. A sharp inhale of breaths by everyone occurred almost at once.
Smith somehow turned pale and puce all at the same time.
James almost gaped at the audacity of the mousy boy that almost seemed to hide behind his mop of hair that hung like curtains from his head and until now had been as good as mute.
James did know about that Smith. He'd overheard his mother gossiping one time with her ladies about the scandal a few years ago when the boy started Hogwarts.
Lucas Smith was a bastard son of his Lord Smith, a huge scandal at the time when he'd acknowledged the son and gave him the Smith name. Lucas Smith was disinherited and out of the line of succession but he was a Smith regardless.
It was a brutal insult really.
Smith paled before he sputtered "Y-Y-You…!" Smith got up, his fists clenched and scowled fiercely at them "You're all dark!" he cried out before he ran back into the Manor.
A few seconds of silence passed by before they fell into a bout of laughter.
"That…that was mean." Marlene said though James could see her barely withholding a smile. Wilfred did smile whilst his sister looked a little guilty about laughing.
Cyrus shrugged.
"It wasn't that mean. He shouldn't have taken offense so easily. Father says an easily offended person is an easy target." Cyrus said dismissively before he peered at Gamp. "I didn't expect that though." Cyrus said with an evaluative note in his voice.
"He should have apologised to Lucy." Gamp explained in a quiet voice. "She didn't deserve his rudeness."
"Thank you Ed" Lucy said shyly and Gamp smiled a little at Lucy before he hid away behind his curtain of hair.
"It was great." James said with cheer before he looked around. "I like you guys" James declared. Most of them probably wouldn't be in Gryffindor but he felt like deflating Smith's ego and laughing about was a good first step to being friends.
And it started with one boy in particular. James turned towards him, eying him with grudging respect. "You're not that bad at all. For a junior Slytherin" he admitted.
Cyrus looked a little startled before he smiled a little, somewhat amused.
"Thanks. You're not that bad either Potter."
James shivered, an act that drew quizzical looks.
"Ghosts of unbroken generations of Gryffindor Potters just walked through me offended I'm making nice with a future Slytherin." James said dramatically and it drew peels of giggles from the girls and an eye-roll from Cyrus.
"Right." Cyrus looked at James critically "You do know Potters were in all Houses for generations before your great-grandfather right? Even your cousin isn't a Gryffindor"
James looked at Cyrus with a baffled expression "How do you know that?!" he half-asked, half demanded. Even James didn't know that. Father had never said anything about any Potters being outside of Gryffindor!
Even the portraits never said anything!
Cyrus looked amused before he shrugged "I like to read."
James laughed "What kind of books do you read that tells you which House everyone went to?"
Cyrus glared at James. "Books" Cyrus said in a clipped tone and James laughed even more which made Cyrus pinch his lips as his expression turned sour.
"Right." Marlene intervened and eyed James "So you think you'll be a Gryffindor?"
"I'll be a Gryffindor" James stated with certainly.
He was a Gryffindor through and through. Like his father. Like his grandfather and his father. No he was more of a Gryffindor than any of them.
"And if you had to be anything else?" Wilfred asked James. Before James could say he couldn't see himself anywhere else Wilfred added "Just imagine it" he pressed.
"Well" James began a little uncertainly. "I wouldn't mind being a Hufflepuff if I couldn't be a Gryffindor." James admitted. He doubted he would be anything but a Gryffindor but he supposed there was a chance. Like a million-to-one chance.
"You would prefer to be a Hufflepuff than say a Ravenclaw or Slytherin?" Cyrus asked with a raised eyebrow, a hint of scepticism creeping in his expression.
"Yes." James said firmly. "My cousin is a Hufflepuff and is the coolest and smartest person I know so I know being a Duff can't a bad thing" James said confidently. If he wasn't so obviously a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff would have been fine.
"For what it's worth…I agree" Lucy Abbott chirped up quietly.
The others though had looks of doubt on their faces.
He didn't really blame them. You don't really associate cool with Hufflepuff.
Before Michael joined Hufflepuff, everyone always talked about the other three Houses and even the portraits always talked about the merits of being a Claw and even Slytherin once or twice before even thinking of speaking about the merits of being a Duff.
It was the place of the rest, those who didn't really have anything extraordinary about them. Hufflepuffs had a reputation of not doing anything noteworthy. He thought they probably were told the same kinds of things.
Well, except for maybe those like the Smiths, the Bones or the Diggories who tended to be Hufflepuffs.
Most of the famous wizards and witches hailed from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and unfortunately from Slytherin too. He'd hated learning Merlin had been a Slytherin.
But any House that had Michael couldn't be that bad or uninteresting. Michael was cool, fun – in his own way – and James knew that Michael was probably the smartest person he knew and James believed Michael when he said that Hufflepuff had as great a merit as that of the Houses.
"Riiiight. How many people can you know?" Marlene asked sceptically, her hands folding in her lap.
"Hundreds" James lied.
He could, at best, claim truthfully that he knew maayyybe a dozen people if he included Jack Fishbury's cousins that one time he'd met and played Quidditch with in Godric's Hollow.
"Riiight" Marlene said with a dubious nod.
Thankfully the conversation veered away from the size of his non-existent friend circle and the conversation flowed easily and turned out to be fun!
Everyone had the opportunity to say where they thought they'd go and how they thought the sorting worked – for some reason no one believed him when he said they would be put under gruelling and terrifying trials like the twelve trials of Hercules – and before they knew it was time to go home and he was kind of disappointed by it.
…Until the tiredness suddenly hit him like a surprise quaffle to the chest.
He wouldn't go to another Gala again though. He hated almost all of it.
"That was boring" James exclaimed before he slunk onto the sofa and sprawled himself out after a satisfying stretch before he hugged a cushion in tired bliss.
Michael slinked into the couch opposite him who was staying over when his parents would leave. Mother and father were talking with aunt and uncle in father's office.
"It wasn't that bad." Michael remarked calmly with a faint smile.
James eyed Michael. "It really was that bad! OK, at the end, it was actually a little fun but that was only after everyone stopped being so stiff!" James said a little heatedly and slowly began to sit up, the feeling of tiredness not so heavy anymore.
"Really, so many people just talked and talked about things that didn't matter. Seriously, Lord Brown spoke like five minutes to father about parchment thickness and how it should be standardised to like half an inch thick!" James exclaimed in outrage.
"I'm quite certain the parchment thickness Lord Brown mentioned was considerably thinner than half an inch." Michael commented with careful and dry humour.
James was not in the mood and glared at Michael.
Michael leaned back in his chair and stared for a good few moments at James before he asked "When I agreed to help you with tricking your parents, what did I ask for?"
James blinked in surprise at the change of topic before he frowned. "You asked for me to treat the hosts and the others with respect – which I did" James said defensively. Michael smiled slightly before he inclined his head.
"You did. Thank you for honouring your word to me." Michael said to James and James couldn't help but feel happy about it and his feelings of frustration dissipated.
Just a little.
"So" Michael said before he leaned further back in the chair, his right leg crossing over his left, his finger stroking against the arm of the chair "You wanted something from me and I helped you with it." Michael paused for a few seconds.
"Tell me why I helped you."
James threw himself back against the chair, groaning as he did so. Another lesson!
He had enough of that already with father.
"Don't groan." Michael chastised gently "You're better than that."
Somehow Michael managed to say that sternly and affectionately all at once.
James sighed before he picked himself up and met Michael's gaze.
"You helped me because I asked." James answered and Michael gestured for him to continued and James took a moment to think it over "And because I agreed to what you wanted."
Michael smiled slightly at his answer. Michael nodded slightly "Both are true but answer me this; do you think our relationship matters to our agreement?"
James looked a little confused "Relationship?"
"Our bond. Our blood connection" Michael added and James' eyes widened in understanding.
"Because we're cousins."
Michael smiled deepened slightly "That and because I like you, little cousin. And you agreed to my request because you like me as well." Michael's smile fell off.
James' eyes widened as Michael's expression grew cold and his eyes seemed to be bore into James like a needle into a pincushion.
"And those gatherings matter because they help you build a bond with your peers. Peers who will, one day, sit in the seats of their fathers and forefathers. Like you."
Michael leaned forward and pinned James with a kind of look that James couldn't look away from, didn't dare to look away from. "Peers…Peers you will one day need a favour of." James made to speak but Michael's look shifted, a shift that dissuaded interruption and James closed his mouth and chose to listen further.
"Everyone, at some point or another, will need help or a favour from someone else. This gala" Michael paused for a moment, his hand smoothing across the face of the arm rest with strange tenderness "helps you meet your peers outside of school and outside of family. They are opportunities"
"Opportunities?" James said after a few moments, his brows furrowing.
"Say you wanted to change something, say for example you wanted to change the stuffy pureblood traditions that don't matter." Michael said, his hands stilling as he stared at James with unblinking eyes.
"Do you think people are more likely to agree if they dislike you?" Michael posed to him with a thin smile. James thought back on his interactions with Smith and realised 'No, no, they wouldn't'. James doubted he'd help Smith with anything and he was pretty sure Smith wouldn't either.
James shook his head and Michael continued "They might even spite you if they dislike you enough even if you offer something they wanted. In some instances, they might even demand something that you don't or can't give." Michael's thin smile grew somehow grim as he stood up.
"You're going to be Lord Potter, James." Michael said gently and warmly as he made his way over to James. Michael continued as he scruffed up James' hair.
"One day, you're going to lead our family. I know you will do well. Just think about what I said a little bit further, alright?"
"Yes Michael. I will." James said with a sullen voice as Michael's heavy hand lifted from his head.
Michael gave him a gratuitous smile in return. "Thank you." Michael said before he let off a tired sigh and made to walk away but not before eying James slightly as he turned "Don't stay up too late."
"I'll be out in the morning so if you want that game of Quidditch, you'll have to be up before eleven." Michael said with a smile and James' eyes lit up in response.