back to school part 7
Despite their belief in James’ capabilities, the Potters were a little bit skeptical of the school’s ability to properly care for their son, especially after the events of the past spring, which led to his vision being almost completely destroyed. Therefore, Effie, accompanied by Fleamont, went down to Hogwarts for a meeting a week before the term was set to begin, in order to work out with the administration just what they were planning to do about their son. All things considered, James truly was an excellent candidate for Head Boy, boasting stellar grades and excellent leadership skills, but he also had a disability that would need to be addressed in order for him to properly execute the duties of the role, and to put him on an even playing field with his peers in terms of his ability to do so.
The Potters sat in the Headmaster's office, a stark contrast to their usual vibrant home. Effie, her once-bright eyes dimmed with worry, gripped Fleamont's arm. Fleamont, his frame looking even more delicate in the grand office, coughed into a handkerchief. The recent illness had sapped his strength, but his eyes burned with a fierce determination.
Professor McGonagall sat at the head of the table. Beside her, Dumbledore, a twinkling figure with a kind smile, offered a comforting presence.
“We understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. and Mrs. Potter,” Dumbledore began, his voice gentle. “James is a remarkable young man with extraordinary potential.”
Fleamont cleared his throat, his voice raspy. “We believe in James’ capabilities, Headmaster, but the events of last spring have left us with profound doubts about the school's ability to protect our son, let alone prepare him for success in a role as demanding as Head Boy.”
Effie squeezed her husband’s hand. “We believe in James, Albus. He’s resilient, clever. But we don’t trust that this school can truly care for him. Not after what happened.”
His words hung heavy in the air. Effie squeezed his hand. She could almost hear the echo of the screams that had shattered their world that fateful spring day.
“We understand your concern, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore replied softly. “The attack on James was a heinous act, and we are all deeply troubled by it.”
“Troubled?” Fleamont echoed, his voice rising slightly. “Troubled is not enough, Albus. Our son was nearly blinded. His future, his entire life, was altered irrevocably. And yet, here we are, discussing whether or not you should have him leading the student body? We just don't quite understand what you are playing at here.”
McGonagall leaned forward, her expression grave. “We are not questioning James’ suitability, Mr. Potter, in fact, we know he is the best choice, and were planning to ask him, even before the accident. Moving forward, we are committed to ensuring that he has every opportunity to succeed. We believe that the Head Boy role can be a source of great pride and accomplishment for him.”
“Pride?” Effie interjected, her voice trembling slightly. “Pride is a luxury we can’t afford right now. We need concrete assurances. How can you expect James to possibly fulfill the duties of Head Boy right now? Not to minimize what he can do, at all, because I know he will adapt and continue to do great things with his life, but this is so new! A month ago we were dragging him out of bed to take a shower and eat something after something that happened under your watch, and now you think he's going to be leading school cheers and organizing the prefect rounds?”
Dumbledore regarded her with compassion. “We are exploring various accommodations, Mrs. Potter. From assistance from Professor Song to adaptive magic, we are determined to create an environment where James can thrive.”
Fleamont snorted. “Adaptive magic? What about basic safety? How can we trust that he won’t be hurt again, that he won’t be left to fend for himself?”
McGonagall met his gaze directly. “We have implemented enhanced security measures throughout the school, Mr. Potter. The safety of our students is our paramount concern.”
Effie looked at her husband, then back at the two professors. “It’s not enough,” she said quietly. “We want to be certain that James is truly prepared for this. We want to know exactly what steps you plan to take to support him.”
Dumbledore nodded. “We will provide you with a detailed plan, Mrs. Potter. We want to work closely with you to ensure that James has everything he needs to succeed, and besides, we have adapted the role to accommodate James' abilities and needs, delegating certain responsibilities to be Head Girl specific, and providing alternative methods of completing tasks. And we mustn't forget Felicity. Her knowledge of magical aids will be invaluable in helping James do the best job he can."
Effie's eyes lit up. "Felicity!" She'd been a constant visitor at the Potter's over the summer, and Effie was glad to hear she would be involved as the year went on.
Fleamont looked hopeful for the first time since they had arrived. "That's a start," he said cautiously. "But we need more. We need to be sure that James can truly succeed in this role, without compromising his health or well-being."
Effie squeezed Fleamont’s hand reassuringly. "We appreciate your willingness to explore options, Professor Dumbledore," she said, trying to inject a note of optimism into her voice. "We just want to be sure that James is not set up for failure."
McGonagall nodded, her expression sympathetic. "We understand your concerns, Mrs. Potter. We assure you, we are doing everything in our power to create a supportive environment for James."
Fleamont snorted. "Actions speak louder than words, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Of course, of course. We shall prove our commitment to James in due time."
"I hope so," Fleamont grumbled, his gaze fixed on a point in the distance. "I hope so very much."
Effie placed a gentle hand on her husband’s arm, a silent plea for him to let it go. She knew he was still angry and hurt, but she also knew that dwelling on the past wouldn't help.
"Very well," Fleamont said finally, his voice still laced with skepticism. "We'll leave it there for now."
McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged relieved glances. Perhaps, just perhaps, they were making progress. But a glance at Fleamont's grim expression told them there was still a long way to go.
When his parents arrived home, James was lying on the couch in the living room, listening to a record on the ancient player in the corner. He looked up as he heard them enter. "How did it go?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Effie walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It went well, sweetheart. Dumbledore and McGonagall assured us that you’ll have the necessary support on every element where you’ll need it."
James smiled, a hint of relief in his eyes. "Good to know."
Fleamont joined them, ruffling James’ hair affectionately in a stark contrast to the grumpy attitude he'd put on in the Headmaster's office. "You’re going to do great, Beta. We’re so proud of you."
James nodded, feeling a bit more confident. "Thanks, Dad. I’ll do my best."
The remaining week of summer flew by quickly, with the boys’ preparations for their seventh year taking up most of their time. Felicity had given James the week off of their O&M sessions, with instructions to prepare himself to get to King’s Cross.
The Potters arrived at King’s Cross early at James’ request. He didn’t want to face any crowds or questions before his first day as Head Boy. Peter had opted to come later, so it was only James, Sirius, and their parents, along with a handful of other students who’d arrived an hour before the train was set to depart.
As they stood on the platform, James felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. His parents' supportive comments and lighthearted quips did little to quell the anxiety bubbling inside him. They said their goodbyes early, as James needed to set up for the Prefect meeting. When he hugged them both, promising to be on his best behavior and to keep them updated, a strange sensation came over him. His chest grew tighter, and he hugged his parents close, feeling, for whatever reason, like their goodbye was more final than usual.
“See you at the holidays,” his mum said, as his cheek pressed against hers.
“Alright, Mum,” he replied, pulling away. “Take care of yourself, please?”
Sirius nudged James’ arm with his own, and James grabbed his elbow, letting Sirius guide him onto the train and through the cars, as Felicity had taught them.
Once they reached the prefect car, Sirius handed him the bag of muffins Effie had made for him to share with the other prefects.
“Knock ’em dead, Prongsie,” Sirius teased, a grin on his face. James nodded tersely, feeling a bit anxious.
“If Evans doesn’t kill me first,” he replied darkly. Just then, the compartment door slid open behind him, and the blur of color that was Lily Evans scoffed.
“Back to Evans now, are we?” she joked, and James blushed.
“We’ll see how you’re feeling about me by the end of the meeting,” he told her, “I might be back to Potter if I really fuck it up.” Sirius and Lily both laughed.
“No need to be so gloomy, Prongs,” Sirius chided him, before turning to Lily. “Take care of our boy, won’t you?”
“Always,” Lily promised, with a sense of mock solemnity. The two said their goodbyes to Sirius as he left for his own compartment.
“Well then,” Lily said to James, her voice light and encouraging, “it’s showtime, baby!”
James took a deep breath, feeling a bit more reassured by Lily's presence. “Let’s do this,” he said, a hint of determination in his voice.
They entered the compartment together, and James placed the bag of muffins on the table. The other prefects began trickling in as the clock came closer to 11:00, chatting quietly amongst themselves. Remus slid through the doors of the compartment just as the train began to move, and after confirming that everyone was in attendance, it was time for the meeting to begin.
James cleared his throat, feeling the weight of their gazes. “Good morning, everyone. I thought we’d start the meeting with a little treat,” he said, gesturing to the muffins. “Courtesy of my mum.”
There were murmurs of appreciation as the prefects helped themselves to the muffins. Lily stepped up beside him, her presence calming his nerves.
“As most of you know, I’m Lily Evans, and this is James Potter,” she began, her voice clear and authoritative. “We’re your Head Boy and Girl for this year, and we’re here to make sure everything runs smoothly.”
James listened as Lily outlined their plans for the year, nodding along and adding his own input when necessary. He was impressed by her thoroughness and the way she commanded the room.
As the prefect meeting progressed, James felt increasingly confident, and began to take his own turn answering the questions when he knew the answer. He and Lily were addressing questions and outlining their plans when a sixth-year Ravenclaw prefect named Reginald raised his hand.
“James,” Reginald began, his tone skeptical, “how do you expect to handle the responsibilities of Head Boy when you’ve never even been a prefect before? And, no offense, but given your…” he gestured to his eyes, “current situation, are you really up for it?”
The room fell silent, tension crackling in the air, especially since the whole gesture was lost on James. In the silence that followed, James felt a flush of embarrassment and anger rising in his chest, but before he could respond, Remus, whose head had been resting casually against the wall, straightened up.
“Shut the fuck up, Reginald,” Remus said flippantly, “James is more capable than you’ve ever been, blind or not. Don’t you remember when you couldn't find your own wand last term and we all had to spend hours searching for it, and it turned out to just have been wrapped up in your own duvet? How's that for competence?”
A few of the prefects stifled laughs, and even Lily couldn’t hide her smirk. Reginald’s face turned bright red as he sputtered, trying to come up with a retort but failing miserably.
“And for the record,” Remus continued, his voice steady and authoritative, “James has experience as a leader, even if it wasn’t as a prefect. I know you've never been to a Quidditch game, Reggie, but James was a brilliant captain for the Gryffindor team. If you have any other dumb shit to say, I suggest you keep it to yourself.”
There was a murmur of agreement and a collective snicker from the other prefects, and James felt a surge of gratitude toward Remus.
Lily, ever the diplomat, stepped in to smooth things over. “Thank you, Remus, for that… eloquent rebuttal, although lets watch that language- I know you've had some trouble with that. Now, as James said, we’re here to support each other. If anyone has further questions or concerns, feel free to speak to us after the meeting.”
With the tension diffused and the meeting back on track, the prefects quickly returned to discussing their plans for the year. As the session wrapped up, James felt a renewed sense of determination. He had his friends by his side, and he knew that with their support, he could handle anything that came his way.
After the meeting, as the prefects began to disperse, James turned to Remus. “Thanks, Moony. I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it, Prongs,” Remus replied with a grin. “Just doing my part to keep the peace.”
“Yeah, by threatening violence,” James joked, clapping Remus on the shoulder.
“Effective, wasn’t it?” Remus quipped, causing them both to laugh.
Lily joined them, shaking her head in amusement. “You two are something else. But seriously, James, you did great today. Don’t let anyone like Reginald get to you.”
“Thanks, Lily,” James said, feeling genuinely touched. “And thanks for having my back, both of you.”
“Always,” they replied in unison, and with that, the trio made their way to the Gryffindor Seventh Years compartment, ready to start their final school year right: with friends.
As the trio made their way to the compartment, their laughter and banter echoed down the train corridor. As they slid open the door, they were greeted by the familiar faces of their friends. Peter was already there with his girlfriend, Clarissa Lima, and Marlene, Sirius, and Mary were chatting animatedly in one corner.
"Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!" Peter called out, waving them over.
"It's the swot-squad!" Sirius cheered, earning him a stern glare from his boyfriend.
James, with some light direction from Lily, found a seat and plopped down with a contented sigh. "Peter, you lazy sod, why didn't you come with us to the station early?"
Peter shrugged sheepishly. "I was, uh, helping Clarissa with packing her trunk."
Marlene rolled her eyes as Clarissa blushed. "Sure you were, Pete."
As they settled in, the conversation naturally turned to their summers. Mary was the first to speak up. "Just spent the summer with the family in London. It was nice to be with them, ya know, but I couldn't stop thinking about everything happening with those Death Eater blokes, just killin’ people left ‘n right."
A shadow fell over the group, the unspoken fear and anxiety about the rise in attacks on Muggleborns hanging heavily in the air.
"I had a pretty dull summer too, mostly reading and helping out at home,” Lily said next. “My mum doesn't know anything about what's happening in our world, so I just let her think everything is fine. It's... hard to keep that from her though."
Peter, trying to inject some levity, added, "Well, I mostly had my internship and ate," placing his hands on a slightly rounder-looking belly. "Can you believe Mum tried to teach me to cook? Let's just say the kitchens will never be the same."
Their laughter at Peter's expense was a welcome relief, but it was clear that the underlying fear of what awaited them back at Hogwarts and beyond was never far from their minds. Marlene, who suddenly assumed the role the pragmatist, brought them back to reality.
"We need to be careful this year," she said seriously. "Stick together, watch each other's backs. We don't know what those blood-purist terrorists might try next."
James nodded, the weight of his new responsibilities as Head Boy settling more heavily on his shoulders. "Agreed. We'll have to be ready for anything."
The compartment fell into a contemplative silence, each of them lost in their thoughts. Despite the fear and uncertainty, there was a sense of solidarity among them. They knew that whatever came their way, they would face it together.
Sirius broke the silence with a mischievous grin. "Alright, enough of the doom and gloom. We’ll have each other's backs and make this year the best we can. Deal?"
"Deal," they all echoed, and that was that.
Seventh year was about to begin.