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Author: Antonia East Story: Fathoming the Mind of a Werewolf Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: WIP Reviews: 6 Words: 40,807
James woke up late the next morning. He found himself still in his Quidditch robes, although someone had removed his glasses. He groped for them at his bedside table and was relieved when he found them. Sirius had been known to hide them as part of an amusing joke. When James got up, his legs felt a bit wobbly, and his arms ached a lot. He made his way to the bathroom and snorted at his reflection. His face was smeared with mud, and his hair stuck up in stiff spikes. “I don’t see what’s funny about your appearance,” the mirror said, tutting. James laughed again, showered, changed, and was just coming downstairs when he met Sirius, Remus and Peter walking up. “You missed breakfast,” Peter said. “We were just about to wake you if you hadn’t got up,” said Sirius. “I thought you were going to lie there snoring all day.” “Well, we brought you something to eat. You haven’t got time for breakfast, or you’ll be late for Transfiguration,” Remus said. “Not that I need to go,” James said, yawning and grabbing a piece of toast from the pile that Sirius was carrying and stuffing it into his mouth. “We’re still on moles. S’easy.” “Didn’t catch a word of that,” said Remus. “I don’t speak ‘toast’, but I think McGonagall would be pretty displeased if you didn’t turn up.” “Pretty displeased? She’d skin you,” Peter said. James swallowed his mouthful. “Couldn’t you say I’m ill?” Then, he remembered the two feet of parchment McGonagall had asked for and grimaced. “Actually, I’ve got a good reason not to go. I haven’t done her homework.” “We know,” said Sirius, collecting his school bag and pulling a scroll of parchment from it. He handed it to James, who looked down to see his own name and handwriting at the top. “Remus found this brilliant charm so that you can write in someone else’s handwriting.” James looked at his homework. “Thank you,” he said, feeling rather odd. He wished the three of them weren’t looking at him like that. “Hang on, there’s something in here.” A piece of paper had fallen out of the scroll and dropped to the floor. As he bent to collect it, James saw that Sirius, Remus, and Peter were grinning at each other. He turned the paper over. “You gits!” It was a photo of himself, lying on his bed, cuddling his broom. His photo self was fast asleep. As James looked, the James in the picture turned over, holding his broomstick tighter with one hand, and raised the other to his mouth. He began to suck his thumb. The other three were laughing loudly. “I do not suck my thumb. You’ve tampered with this.” “The camera never lies, James,” Sirius James set fire to the offending photograph. Peter shook his head. “Sorry, James. No good. We have copies.” Remus checked his watch. “Come on, or we’ll all be late.” Muttering darkly between mouthfuls of toast, James grabbed his bag and followed his friends out of the portrait hole. In History of Magic, later that day, James was just about to fall asleep when a note was pushed under his nose, which had been inching nearer and nearer the table. Aren’t you going to ask me what it is? What’s what, Sirius? What my animal is, you prune. James sat up a bit straighter. He’d forgotten about that. Did you really see an animal? Yup. James glanced sideways at Sirius, who wore an expression of bored stupor. A certain tension around his mouth showed James that his best friend was trying not to smirk. Go on, then. What did you see? Well, I started off doing the breathing that it recommends to do in the Burnaby book. Then, I held all the spells in my mind and just kept concentrating on them really hard, and then- James grabbed the paper from Sirius. Get on with it. Fine! I saw a black dog. James had a vision of the yapping ball of fur which always appeared at the heels of his Great-aunt Lucinda and snorted. Most of the class were too asleep to notice. Peter lifted his head from his arms, regarded them sleepily, and let his head drop once more. What’s so funny? What type of dog was it then? A poodle? It was a big dog, not a poodle. Poodles can be big.. No, they can’t. Yes, they can. Can’t. Can. Can’t. Can. I’ve seen one. Sure it hadn’t been on the wrong end of an engorgement hex? It was just a large poodle. Aw, was Jamsie scared of the nasty big poodle? Oh, shut up. You know, I’m actually not making any noise. Your quill is scratching the parchment. So’s yours. Anyway, we’re getting away from the subject in question, which is my brilliance at Transfiguration. I heard that. So, it was a dog. What was it like? Big and black. Yes, we’d got that far. Just because you haven’t seen your animal. Bet I could if I tried. Go on, then. What? Now? Binns won’t notice. Fine. James regulated his breathing, slowing it like the book had described. He closed his eyes. He’d show Sirius. He brought the spells into his mind. They were useless until he knew what to change into, but focusing on them was meant to bring his animal to him. He waited. A shadowy shape began to move towards him. James strained his mind to see what it was, but he just couldn’t make it out; it was too blurry, as though he was looking at it without his glasses. The shadowy white shape came closer. He’d be able to see properly it soon. The shape stopped. It seemed to be bowing to him. Then, it vanished. “James. James! Wake up.” James opened his eyes. Sirius was shaking him, with Remus and Peter looking on. The rest of the class was filing out of the room. “Did you have, er, any good dreams?” Sirius asked, nudging him. James shook his head. “Nothing clear.” * “- And it’s Potter, looking very good for Gryffindor…he’s past the opposition; it’s Potter for Gryffindor against the Slytherin Seeker. They’re both new players this year… Potter shoots, the Keeper dives, he’s got - no! It’s in - Potter scores! Ten nil to Gryffindor, and that’s a very good start for James Potter...” The first Quidditch match was a dream. James scored seven goals, Frank caught the Snitch, and Slytherin were annihilated. Better still, the Slytherin Keeper was none other than - “You should have seen Snape’s face when I got that last goal,” James said to Sirius, Remus and Peter at supper that evening. “He was so cross! It was brilliant.” “Well, what does he expect? If he didn’t want to be beaten he shouldn’t have played,” Sirius said, sneering. “I think even Peter would make a better Keeper than him.” “You were fantastic, James,” Peter said, watching James spoon a third helping of macaroni cheese onto his plate. “Your goals were the best.” “Don’t be daft, Peter,” said James. “Didn’t you see Gideon get the Quaffle in the third ring while he was ducking the Bludger? That was magnificent. Wish I could do that.” “I bet you could, James,” Peter said, looking on in fascination as James chewed a mouthful of food. “I bet you could if you tried.” When he wasn’t playing Quidditch, James worked his way through ‘The Animal Without: A Study of Animagi’ with Sirius. They used the handwriting charm which Remus had found to forge McGonagall’s signature and got as many books as they could from the Restricted Section of the library. It was interesting, especially when James thought of really becoming an animal. He couldn’t wait. He still didn’t know what animal he’d be. The book said that the wizard couldn’t chose the animal he transformed into; a wizard’s Animagus form reflected part of the person’s character, although James couldn’t see anything warm, fluffy or feline about Professor McGonagall. James hoped that he turned into something good. It must be annoying to go through all the work only to be able to change into a flobberworm or something. It became clear, though, as the Christmas holidays came and went, that neither James, Sirius nor Peter were going to become any kind of animal any time in the near future, despite Sirius being able to see the big, black dog. Peter was labouring over the basic concepts of the transformation, whereas James and Sirius knew what they had to do, but had no idea how to do it. They crammed the evenings with extra reading, studied the books left by James’s grandmother and snuck into the library late at night under the Invisibility Cloak. “Peter, what are you doing?” Remus asked. They were sitting at the tables in the common room. Remus was writing a long and boring essay for History of Magic, James and Sirius were going over the notes they’d made the night before (and which they’d have to simplify and explain to Peter later), while Peter was reading a book on simple Transfiguration. Peter squeaked. “Nothing.” His ears went pink. James and Sirius stiffened and looked up. Remus was peering over Peter’s shoulder. “‘Triumph at Transfiguration’,” Remus read. He looked blank. “We don’t have anything from McGonagall.” “She gave Peter extra homework last week,” James said, tipping his chair back, and shooting Peter a meaningful glance. “Oh.” Remus said. The three of them still didn’t want to tell Remus what they were doing, even though it did mean they had to lie to him or avoid him from time to time. James and Sirius felt sure that Remus would try to dissuade them. “Remus,” Lily Evans came up to their table. “Remus, my mum sent ‘The Hobbit’ – I still can’t believe you haven’t read it – for you to borrow; that is, if you’re still interested.” James glanced at the square parcel Lily held in her hand. “Books,” he mouthed at the others. While Remus was talking to Lily, the other three gathered up their things and hurried out of the portrait hole, heading for the secret passage behind Gregory the Smarmy which they had turned into their private classroom. Sirius pulled out a sheaf of notes on the primary spells that had to be mastered and started explaining them to Peter. James tried to concentrate on his animal. He was the best at Transfiguration; he would not let Sirius get ahead of him. However, nearly an hour later, nothing had been achieved. “The bloody thing won’t come into focus,” James yelled, throwing his book against the wall. Peter sighed. “At least you can see something, James. I can’t see anything at all. I don’t think I’ll ever become an Animagus.” Peter’s hands were covered in ink, as were his cheeks and mouth. About him lay scrolls and scrolls of parchment, all covered in diagrams and scrawls. “Yes, you will,” said Sirius, who was as inky as Peter, and who had been working with a grim determination. “We all will. Don’t worry; it took me a while to see the dog.” James began to laugh. “Sirius…the dog!” “James, maybe you’ve had enough for one night.” “No, Sirius. The dog star. And you can see a dog.” Sirius grinned. “He’s Black, as well.” Peter frowned. “So, is the animal like your name? Peter Pettigrew doesn’t mean any animal at all.” “No, it’s just a coincidence,” James said. Still, it annoyed him that Sirius had found an animal that suited him so well, whereas he, Jams, only had a blur. Peter picked up the nearest pile of notes and flicked through them despondently. “Can’t we just transfigure each other into animals? That’d be a bit easier.” “That’d be a lot easier, but it wouldn’t work,” James said. “Humans who have been transfigured into the shape of an animal are still essentially human. Becoming an Animagus actually changes your genetic make-up. That’s why it’s so difficult. You really become another animal. A werewolf could bite a transfigured human, and he’d become a werewolf. Only Animagi are immune like other animals.” Peter and Sirius gawped at James. “I think you’ve been reading too much, mate,” Sirius said. “You’re beginning to sound like Remus.” Finally, they called it a night, and the three of them huddled beneath the Cloak in order to return to Gryffindor tower. It was long after the students were meant to be in bed. They crept along a dark passageway that served as a short-cut and emerged from behind a tapestry. “Who’s there?” All three of them jumped at the voice which rang out against the stillness of the corridor. James could make out a large figure in the shadowy doorway of a classroom. Whoever it was must have seen the tapestry slide back into place. “I know there’s someone there.” The voice was loud and deep, but it wasn’t a teacher. A patrolling prefect, maybe. “Ted, there’s nothing there.” A girl’s voice this time. James had barely time to register the nervous tone, before he felt Sirius shift beside him. “Andromeda?” Sirius called and pulled off the Cloak. A wand lit up, and James felt very exposed. It wasn’t one big figure, he saw; it was two people standing very close together “Sirius!” Squinting against the light, James recognised Sirius’s cousin, a Ravenclaw in her final year. She was clinging to the arm of a tall boy. James’s heart sank as he made out Ted Tonks, Beater on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and Head Boy. Andromeda seemed to have recovered herself. She let go of Ted’s arm and took a step forward. “Sirius,” she hissed. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing out here at this time of night?” Sirius grinned at her. “I could say the same for you.” Ted grinned back. “He’s got us there, Andie.” “Andie!” Sirius appeared to be enjoying himself, unlike Peter, who had shuffled behind James. “Never heard you called that before. Your special name, is it?” Andromeda shot Sirius a venomous look, and James remembered that this was Bellatrix’s sister. “Oh, shut up,” she said, sounding exasperated and embarrassed and very much nicer than Bellatrix. “Ted’s Head Boy; he’s got every right to be out here. He could give you detention for a week, if he wanted.” “Actually,” Sirius said, “I think he’d find that we’ve got a very full diary.” “We’re pretty much booked up, when it comes to detention,” James said. “So I’ve heard,” Andromeda said. She folded her arms and tried to look disapproving, but her lips were twitching. Beside her, Ted was grinning at them. “We’ll give the detentions a miss then, shall we?” he said, nodding at James. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have time for training, and Meadowes would beat me to death with his broomstick.” “Not if it endangered his broom, he wouldn’t,” James said. Ted laughed. “That’s true. Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff final, you reckon?” “Ted,” Andromeda elbowed him. “This is not the time to discuss Quidditch. Besides, Ravenclaw might win the cup this year.” Sirius snorted; James shook his head in disbelief. Ted patted her on the back and rolled his eyes at James, Sirius and Peter. “And they say that Ravenclaws are meant to be clever.” Andromeda sniffed. “Right, off to bed, you lot.” When they returned, Remus was alone in the common room. He was hunched over his essay, but his quill wasn’t moving. The book Lily Evans had lent him lay on the table. “Hi, Remus,” said Sirius, clapping Remus on the back. “How come you’re still down here?” Remus turned around. “I was wondering whether or not to send out a search party for you three.” James laughed. “Don’t worry, you can trust us not to get lost.” Sirius nudged Peter, and Peter yawned loudly. “It’s pretty late, better get to bed. Don’t work too hard, Remus.” James picked up Remus’s essay. “I’ll finish this for you, if you like,” he said. “You look tired.” Remus shook his head and remained in the common room while the others went up to bed. James didn’t see him come up. * The Easter holidays fast approached. Peter and Remus went home. To his delight, James’s mother had invited Sirius over to Ketterleigh Castle. After a raucous journey back to London, Sirius and James said goodbye to Remus and Peter, before being driven to Ketterleigh Castle by James’s father. Mr Potter parked the car alongside the tall coach-company buses in the National Trust car park on the Ketterleigh estate. “Watch the car,” James told Sirius. James never tired of seeing his father’s car, which had appeared so clean and smart when they got into it in London, fade and shift, until it looked like an abandoned old banger. Mr Potter patted his car lovingly. “The Muggles always mean to get it taken to the scrapyard, but it keeps slipping their minds.” He winked at James and Sirius. The three of them made their way down the drive and past the ticket office. The man sitting there nodded at them as they walked by, but then looked puzzled, as though he couldn’t remember why he had. At the door, Mr Potter placed his hand upon the head of the marble stag, which stood before the entrance of the castle. The stag bowed, and James’s father walked through. It was how the wizarding folk gained access to the parts of the castle Muggles couldn’t see. When it was James’s turn, however, he stared at the stag. “What’s wrong?” Sirius asked. “I’m not sure,” said James. The sight of the white stag had made him start with recognition. He wondered…. As soon as he got to his room, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Almost at once, the white shape came into view. James thought of the stag, and immediately the shape became clearer. He was right. It was a stag. The animal bowed its head. James opened his eyes and grinned. The two boys spent a glorious fortnight exploring, flying and working on becoming Animagi. All too soon, they were back at school. Like they had done last year, the fifth- and seventh-formers began to look pressurised. The Gryffindor Quidditch players, having beaten Ravenclaw, were also training hard for the Quidditch final. Jeremy Meadowes seemed to take Quidditch more seriously than his NEWTs, whereas Dorcas Wood, another seventh-year, was the last to leave the common room every night, as she fitted her revision around practices. Gideon and Graham were both taking their OWLs and shouted out the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, or the ingredients of a Befuddlement Draught, as they threw the Quaffle to one another. James and Sirius sat in the Trophy Room; they were used to spending Saturday nights in detention, whether in the Forbidden Forest, Professor Whall’s dungeon, Professor Asch’s cold classroom, or under the frosty glare of Professor McGonagall. Remus and Peter were not always present at these detentions, but James and Sirius’s obligation to perform menial tasks all over the school had become part of their weekly routine. This time they were there because they had seen fit to furnish every chair in the Great Hall with Whoppee Cushions. “That new range that your Dad sent you for your birthday was amazing,” said Sirius, who was expertly polishing a goblet. “I don’t think even he expected me to use them all at once,” James said, grinning at his reflection in a silver plate, before pushing it aside and picking up the Quidditch Cup. He’d become quite fond of polishing it by now. “Ah, McGonagall’s face when she sat down.” Sirius wiped his eye with his cleaning cloth. James grinned. “It’s a pity that Professor Asch realised what was going on and checked his chair. I wanted him to sit on his.” “Which one was that?” “The one that sounded like an orang-utan.” “Oh, yeah.” Sirius picked up a silver shield. “Still, at least Dumbledore didn’t realise.” “I think he might have,” James said. “He sat down after McGonagall, remember?” Sirius chuckled. “Loopy, he is.” James looked down at the now-familiar names on the Quidditch cup. It had been ages since Gryffindor had won, back when they were captained by Molly Prewett, Keeper. ‘Six days, fourteen hours and seventeen minutes,’ he thought. “- Prewett’s flying well with the Quaffle, he passes to Bell, nice catch, Bell dodges McCarthy’s Bludger, back to Prewett. Prewett – Potter – Bell – Potter. The Gryffindor Chasers are dominating the field, but can they score? Ah, Potter’s at the post – lovely position, it’s – no – he’s defeated by Honeyduke. The Hufflepuff Keeper is in her last Quidditch final; she will be sorely missed by Hufflepuff next year. “Abbott has the Quaffle, passes to Diggory, to – ouch! Well-aimed Bludger by Wood, and Gryffindor are in possession again. Potter – Bell – Prewett – Bell – Potter, passes to Prewett, he shoots…yes! That’s a beautiful goal by Prewett; Honeyduke never had a chance. “Diggory’s in possession of the Quaffle. Bell tries to intercept…was that a bit of cobbing? Yes, penalty to Huflepuff. Diggory faces the Keeper. It’s a hard shot – Meadowes dives and – ooh! Misses it by a fingernail. The score is 20 all. “Potter has the Quaffle, Abbott can’t get near – that was a hard Bludger by Defoe. Potter is past Diggory – he’s ducked the Bludger, can he – Bell’s there for back-up, but Potter doesn’t need him – Potter SCORES! Gryffindor now in the lead in the fight for the Quidditch cup, and new boy Potter is on wings. James was on wings. He could hear the commentary, he could hear the roar of the crowd, but, most of all, he could hear the sound of the Quaffle whizzing through the air as it was thrown to Giles Grabham, a Hufflepuff Chaser. Feeling about as good as he ever had done, he sped after it. “Hufflepuff in possession. Grabham – Diggory – Abbott - Abbott back to Diggory and…hang on, Clapham’s diving. The Snitch has been sighted! The Gryffindor Seeker heads after her, he’s gaining…he’s level…he’s – oh, no! McCarthy’s Bludger gets him on the leg, is that a break? He’s knocked off course and Clapham gets the Snitch. Hufflepuff win, 170-30, but a very close match, nonetheless. A good fight from Gryffindor, but Hufflepuff retain the Quidditch Cup!” The Hufflepuff stand erupted into mad cheers and screams of delight. Up in the air, Eddie Abbott was so pleased to have won his final Quidditch cup that he kissed Rosie Honeyduke full on the mouth, to accompanying catcalls from the stands. James flew over to Frank to help him land. Gideon and Graham flew to his side. “Never mind, mate,” Gideon said to Frank who was trying to apologise through teeth gritted in pain. “Not your fault.” “Well played,” Graham said to James. Above them, Meadowes seemed loath to come down from the air. Dorcas sat beside him on her broom. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and Meadowes didn’t shake it off. Defoe was shaking hands with the Hufflepuff team. Madam Pomfrey came forward and felt Frank’s leg. “Yes, that’s a bad break. Such a violent game; I don’t see why the Headmaster doesn’t ban it.” She tapped Frank’s leg with her wand. “It’ll be a little stiff for a while.” James, Graham, Gideon and even Frank were staring at her in disbelief. Ban Quidditch? “She’s barmy,” James muttered once Madam Pomfrey had left them. Gideon looked over his shoulder to where Dumbledore had changed his robes with a clap of his hands to a brilliant Hufflepuff yellow as he presented the victorious team (headed by a weeping Rosie Honeyduke) with the House Cup. “Good job Dumbledore’s sensible,” he said, before he and Graham went to join their friends. Sirius, Remus and Peter ran out of the crowd towards Frank and James, and, together, they made their way to the changing rooms, James helping a limping Frank. Another figure detached itself from a passing herd of Slytherins. “Too bad, Potter,” Snape said, smirking at James. “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Sirius snarled. “Too bad you weren’t playing, Snivellus. Gryffindor wouldn’t even have needed to catch the Snitch to win.” “What would you know of Quidditch, Black?” asked Snape, a thin smile playing over his face. “You didn’t even get on the team.” James began to retort, but Remus beat him to it. “Shows how good Gryffindor are, if they’ve got two Beaters who are better than Sirius.” “Shame that Slytherin had to grub around for any old players,” James said. Snape whipped out his wand, levelling it at James. James was supporting Frank and so couldn’t reach his wand. Nevertheless, Snape found himself faced with three wands, as Sirius, Remus and even Peter pointed theirs at him. “Frank! Are you all right, we – what are you doing?” Lily and Alice came running up and eyed the cluster of boys. “Nothing,” James said. “Nothing that concerns you,” Snape said, glaring at Lily. He looked as though he would have liked to say more, but perhaps the fact that he was outnumbered deterred him. He walked away, leaving James, Frank, Sirius and Remus looking angry, Peter looking triumphant, and Lily looking red. Alice, meanwhile, was peering at Frank’s leg. “I wish you wouldn’t let the Bludgers hit you, Frank,” she said. Frank’s mouth twitched.
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