Regret Comes In Many Forms, Too Many To Name
Minerva has lived a long time.
She wouldn’t consider herself all-knowing but she has seen her fair share of the world, of people.
She has seen a lot, especially in the realm of teenagers.
Being a teacher for most of her life lead to meeting quite a few of them, after all.
She has seen the brave, the loyal, the intelligent, the ambitious, and about everything in between.
When she meets James Sirius Potter for the first time, much like it had been with his father, he was still a toddler. Small, innocent, with eyes too big for his face. She gifts him a small enchanted cat plushie that purrs. He giggles, delighted by the sound.
She doesn’t see the boy again for many years, despite the countless invitations from his family to join them for dinner.
When she meets James Sirius Potter again, he is eleven years old and… well not quite what Minerva expected.
It might have been prejudice born from the boy’s name and family history, but Minerva thought she would know his type.
He ends up being completely different.
What she meets is a little romantic.
The boy has big eyes and looks at the world with a deep gaze, the type you hold when looking at a piece of art that has an impact on you, only the boy looks like that always.
Minerva is surprised.
Neither his father nor his mother had much emotional depth to them, being more practical people. The war also didn't allow for much creative exposure.
Where James Sirius Potter had found this sensible soul of his is beyond her.
Because of that, or maybe because her old age makes her sentimental, she can’t keep herself from developing a bit of a soft spot for the gentle boy, who looks a little out of space in her loud first-year transfiguration class of Gryffindors.
But over the course of the year, something changes.
The boy starts disappearing, shifting into a demeanor very unlike his character.
Minerva knows. She knows how hard children can be on each other and themselves.
She can only watch helplessly as the gentle flower gets stomped on by the over-confident kids of his house.
At the start of second year the boy stopped smiling.
He grins at his classmates but there isn’t any joy in his eyes.
Minerva is scared he might have lost his spark.
But then she sees it again, brighter than ever as James Sirius Potter sneakily, not enough so as not to be seen by the headmistress, reads a book in her class.
It is not the Transfiguration course book, but rather a collection of Myths she discovers, as she carefully creeps closer to read the title.
And again the flame returns one day later, as the boy reads, much like the prior day. It is a different book this time, Minerva notes, green book cover instead of the grey one she expected.
He couldn’t have already finished the other one, could he?
But as Minerva makes her round through the castle that night, she sees a light shining in the very back of the library.
And if she sees her small boy, half hidden under an invisible cloak reading on the ground, so engrossed in his poetry collection as not to notice the woman in front of him, and decides to leave him to his world of written words without punishment for leaving his bed at the late hour, then no one is the wiser. After all, the library is empty except for the two of them.
It happens in the blink of an eye really.
James had been laying in his bed as his mates played some game on the floor when suddenly Albus comes rushing in, grabs Matthew by the collar of his shirt, and punches him.
It takes James only a few seconds to react, but by that time chaos had already ensued.
The Gryffindor boys are yelling insults at the younger one, pushing him back as he keeps trying to attack them. James moves into action, yanking his brother by his arm and yelling “Albus what in Morgana’s name are you doing?!”.
“He did this!” the other one shoots back “It’s him!”
“What are you talki-“
“He burned Scorpius’ book! You have no idea how much that book mattered to him, you disgusting slug, you-“
“That’s enough Albus!”
His brother turned his gaze on him, heavy from rage.
“Are you defending him?”
“I’m just saying, you don’t know why-“
“I know exactly why!” his brother hissed, “Because these friends of yours are nasty, selfish people.”
“Your brother’s friends are like that?” Jake joins the debate “what about that disgusting deatheater you traitor hang out with?”
“Shut up! You- you know nothing about Scorpius, you hear me! You bastard-“
“Albus, enough!” James screams out of breath.
His brother looks at him, eyes suddenly vulnerable “Do you also think like that? That I’m a traitor? That my best friend is a deatheater?”
James looks around helplessly, trying to find an answer somewhere. Truly he knows this has already gone too far, if only he could get Albus to talk to him in private they could sort this out. James doesn’t want to hurt his brother’s feelings. And so he looks around the room unsure how to proceed. The angry faces of his friends force his gaze back to the younger boy.
“Well I mean- you know Albus…”
“What?” his brother’s voice is shaking now.
“I mean, you know about his family… Why do you choose to be friends with him out of all people?” The older one continues, one word hanging heavier in the air than the other “it does feel like, you know, you are doing it as revenge a little bit for not being in Gryffindor.”
He regrets the words the second they leave his mouth, but it is too late then.
Albus’ eyes have already turned cold at that, sharp as a knife.
“You won’t have to worry about that anymore,” he says, voice suddenly gone deep and hard, no longer shaking, “I won’t be your brother from now on. This is not the kind of family I want to be a part of.”
He leaves as quickly as he came, robe fluttering like the dark wings of a fallen angel behind him.
“Don’t think too much about it, dude. You’re better off without a nasty Slytherin like that. He would have probably done something like this eventually. His kind is always like that.” Jake says while giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
His dormmate’s hand burns almost as much as his brother’s betrayed gaze before he left.
The Griffindor table had clapped and cheered after he was sorted.
As he sat down many hands were shaken and questions asked.
About his father.
His family.
Himself.
The questions followed him all the way into his dorm room.
There were five boys, all smiling at him.
James had thought friends with a smile.
Then Jake said “Can’t believe I’m rooming with Harry Potter’s son!” and his smile disappeared.
They were loud.
And messy.
The only one James felt even remotely close to was Matthew, the shortest in the group, with big eyes and a deep voice, but even that friendship felt awkward to James, being based on a personality that wasn’t his.
Still, James had fun sometimes. The boys would have long sleepovers where candy and secrets were exchanged, but then they would start talking about girls and it stopped being fun. James didn’t particularly like their conversations either. They were messy, one always interrupting the other, and shallow. Favorite topics ranged from sports to what famous witch had the biggest boobs. One time James attempted to lead the conversation into the topic of mythology, thinking the boys would love the epic tales of war, but it was quickly shot down for being “too complicated and long”.
The part he hated however was the jokes, as the boys called it when somebody called them out on it.
Bullying was a better word, since it mostly meant laughed-out insults and mean pranks.
James felt so uncomfortable the first time they were called into the Principle’s office, McGonnagall’s disappointed face making him regret going along with those stupid pranks. He left the office with his head down and tail between his legs, but only a few hours later he joined his mates in their next mean endeavor.