Chapter 2
James didn’t sleep much that night. The adrenaline wore off, and the nagging thoughts about his future crept in like a slow tide, inching closer to overwhelm him. His dad’s shouting still echoed in his mind, his foster mother’s cold indifference wrapped around him like a chain. But the next morning, he pushed all of that down. It wasn’t like he had a choice.
He had bigger problems now.
By the time James stepped into the courthouse, the hangover from his night out mixed with a sense of dread. He knew something was coming. The beating. The phone call. He just didn’t know how bad it was going to be.
And it wasn’t long before his worst fears were confirmed.
“James Potter, you’re here because you’ve been caught on multiple occasions damaging public property, trespassing, and engaging in violent behavior,” the judge read off from a clipboard. “Given your history with law enforcement, I’m putting you on probation. But this is your last chance, Potter. I’m sentencing you to two hundred hours of community service.”
James swallowed hard. "Community service? What, like picking up trash on the side of the road or something?"
The judge looked up, sharp-eyed. "I’m sending you to Blackwood Academy of the Arts, Mr. Potter. You’ll work there. Clean up, assist with their events, and work in whatever capacity they require."
The room felt like it closed in on him. Blackwood Academy—the prestigious school where rich kids danced in their designer clothes and thought they were too good for everyone else.
"You can’t be serious," James muttered.
The judge slammed her gavel. "I’m very serious. You have no say in this. You’re expected to start immediately."
James froze for a second, his gaze flickering between the judge and his friends. Remus and Sirius were right behind him, and they could tell he wasn’t happy. But they couldn’t do anything. They were just here to watch him dig his own grave.
Remus leaned in. "You’ll be fine, mate. Just do your time and get out."
Sirius shrugged, his usual grin plastered on his face. "At least you’ll get to see some fancy footwork in person. Couldn’t hurt to learn a few moves, huh?"
James just gave him a sharp look but didn’t reply.
He didn't’t feel like he belonged there as all as he stepped onto the grounds of Blackwood Academy. The campus was pristine—almost too perfect—like a place out of a rich kid’s fever dream. Students in their expensive clothes moved with a grace that felt unnatural, like they were part of some dance routine rather than just walking.
This place was a world away from his life.
James wandered through the halls, his mop and bucket in tow, keeping his head down and ignoring the stares of the other students. He didn’t belong here. He wasn’t rich, and he sure as hell didn’t have the kind of poise these kids had. He’d grown up fighting for scraps. These kids fought for status.
The door to the main studio opened, and out stepped a figure that made James stop in his tracks.
Regulus Black.
James barely even had time to process it before Regulus’s icy gaze met his.
"Excuse me... wait, Potter?!" Regulus said, his voice cool and disinterested. "What are you doing here?"
James sneered, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice. "Got sentenced to some community service. Guess I’m stuck here for a while."
Regulus’s eyes narrowed. "Figures. You look like you belong in the streets, not a studio."
James felt a jolt of anger but held it in. "Well I prefer the 'streets'. What’s it like, pretending your life’s all perfect because you can dance in tights?"
Regulus didn’t react immediately. He simply turned his head, as if James wasn’t worth his time. "I don’t need to waste my time with you."
"Too bad," James shot back. "Because I’m going to be cleaning this place up. And maybe, I’ll stick around just to annoy you"
Regulus didn’t respond, only shot James one last cold look before walking away, his posture flawless and elegant.
James watched him go, his heart pounding.
This was going to be interesting.