CHAPTER IV

James spent the better part of the night turning in his bed, unable to relax. No matter what he did, it didn't seem to be working. 

Out of pure desperation, he had even tried to count dragons in his head and got to a higher number than he’d like to admit before he had to grimly accept it didn’t seem to be helping. 

The only thing it seemed to do was to make him kind of want to see a real dragon. Which, he had to admit, was not very useful either. 

He had been about to sigh again when the drapes around his bed rustled. 

“James?” he heard a whispered voice and then Sirius was pulling the drapes slightly apart,  leaning in.

His hair was slightly messy, the silky, dark strands framing his face and falling on the red of his quidditch jersey, the fabric loose and soft with use. 

Upon seeing James’ eyes wide open, his tense shoulders sagged with obvious relief. 

“Ah, good, you’re not asleep either. Make some room.” 

James made a soft noise of protests, though it was purely for show, since he moved up to sit before Sirius even neared the edge of the mattress, pulling his knees together. 

Sirius, obviously expecting his compliance, sat down at the end of the bed, legs haphazardly thrown across the mattress, one of them hanging over the edge. The bed dipped a little under the added weight, then settled. 

Through the slightly pulled apart drapes, James had a clear view of the bed on  the other side of the room, Remus’ ruffled hair peeking from beyond the covers pulled up almost to his nose. There was something lying to his side as well, though it was hard to see exactly what, in the dark of the room. Most likely it was that book on Goblins he was so entranced by earlier that night. 

“Have you been awake this whole time?” James whispered, aware they hadn’t put up any silencing charms. 

Sirius shrugged, flicking a stray piece of dust from his loose pyjama pants. He watched it fly away from the bed in a wide arc, disappearing into the darkness around them. 

“I think I dozed off a little, but only for a few minutes. Haven’t been able to fall asleep since.”

Peter’s loud snore pierced the quiet, followed by the sounds of rustling fabric as he tossed in his bed, mumbling something in his sleep. 

Sirius turned slightly to look in his direction and James’ eyes fell on the familiar number across his chest. 

He blinked, then squinted, unsure if he saw right in the dark, and without his glasses. “Is it - Are you wearing my jersey?” 

Sirius lowered his head to cough, black hair falling forward and obscuring the look on his face, even further aided by the lack of light in the room.

“Yeah,” he said finally, shrugging nonchalantly even as his eyes moved everywhere that wasn't James. “Euphemia said you wanted to get rid of it, and that just seemed stupid. It’s way too comfy to be thrown away, you know.”  

“Sure,” James agreed weakly, head spinning. Sirius, in his quidditch gear. With the words ‘ Potter ’ in bold letters across his back, with the number he had even since he started playing, the number that everyone in the school knew was his –  

He shook his head a little, dragging a hand through his hair. 

It was just comfortable , he told himself firmly, simple as that. Don’t look for things that aren’t there. 

James swallowed down a sigh. “How about we go to the bridge? It’s too stuffy in here.” 

That and he wasn’t sure what to do with Sirius sitting right there, on his bed, in his jersey of all things. The sight of him seemed almost sacrilegious - loose clothes and bare feet, hair tousled, looking so sleepy and soft, so vulnerable. 

It made James ache with something fierce, his heart squeezing in his chest with the knowledge that he was allowed to see Sirius like this, that he was entrusted with this version of him. 

He allowed himself another three seconds, then pulled his gaze away. 

“Sounds good,” Sirius agreed, then smirked. “I was going crazy listening to Pete’s snoring.” 

As if hearing his name, Peter gave a particularly loud snore, and the two boys glanced at each other, stifling a laugh. 

“Let’s go, then?” Sirius asked, lifting his brow.

James nodded, reaching for his glasses as he got up. “Right behind you.”  

They’d evaded the schoolkeeper easily enough, only stopping once to check with the Marauder’s Map that the road ahead was clear before continuing to sneak ahead. It would have been easier to take the Invisibility cloak, but then James didn’t like to count on it too much and it was much more fun like this anyways. 

Though Remus was a prefect and they were aware of some of the patrol routes from their House at least, the patrols were constantly changing, often on whim of the prefects currently doing them. 

In a way,  James was glad for it. 

Otherwise all their night adventures would have become incredibly boring. Not even all the detentions in the world would manage to dull the thrill of running away from a prank well done, escaping whoever was chasing them or of successfully sneaking past someone without a suspicion. 

“It’s crazy the Goblet chose us,” James voiced when they had made it to their bridge, leaning his forearm against one of the columns. 

The horizon before them was dark, but the light of the moon fell upon the tops of the trees and hills around them, the darkness softer than inside the castle walls. The moonlight reflected in the surface lake, making the still water shimmer with otherworldly glow. 

The air around them was tingling with the autumn chill, more pronounced now that it was night, the cold biting. James  was more than glad that they’d stopped to put robes over their pyjamas, though he was both relieved and disappointed he couldn't sneak glances at Sirius’ attire any longer. It was probably best he wasn't able to see it properly, all things considered.  

“Not that crazy,” Sirius countered as he leaned his hands on the wooden railing. “I mean, who else would it choose? Snivellus?”

A chuckle startled out from James’ lips at the incredulous way Sirius said the name, before he smirked. “Hogwarts would lose before the match even started.” 

Snape might have been skilled with potions and kind of decent with hexes, but the idea of him working in a team? It was almost laughable. James could imagine his voice going higher than Fat Lady’s attempts at singing if he’d found out he had to cooperate with someone. 

Sirius snickered as if reading his mind. “Now I kind of want to see it, do you think it’s too late to change teammates -”

He evaded the jab to his shoulder without even glancing in James’ direction, smoothly stepping to the side. 

His eyes sparkled as they found James’ hazel eyes, lips pulled into a smile.

“What, Prongsie? Feeling jealous?” 

James glared. “Over Snivellus? Hard pass.” 

“You’re right, can’t betray my House like that, it should be someone else from Gryffindor, maybe -”

James lunged for him before he could get out a name. 

The wooden boards of the bridge squeaked as Sirius jumped away, barely managing to get out of his reach. James followed him and Sirius quickly moved a step backwards, hands going up in surrender. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he assured, laughter spilling between his words. 

James used the moment he was distracted to step in closer, hand going up to fist in the front of his robes before he janked . Sirius stumbled forward, air audibly stuttering in his lungs. 

With a jerk, James pulled him in until their faces were close together, fingers curling in the dark material of his clothes.

“You better,” he warned in a low voice, staring up at Sirius through the dark strands falling into his eyes. Sirius stared back, his eyes wide, almost shaky.  

James continued to glare at him for a second, as if daring him to finish the earlier sentence, then released his grip and lightly pushed at Sirius’ chest to force him to take a step back. Sirius let him, looking stunned, the grey of his eyes still blown wide.

James looked away, the heat in his cheeks climbing. Merlin, what did he just do? His throat feels suddenly dry, and James scrambled for something to say. 

“As if you could survive the Tournament without me,” he scoffed, fingers ruffling his hair.

Sirius blinked a couple of times, still frozen, “As if I’d want to.”

James’ heart stuttered inside his chest.

Grey eyes darted away for a second as Sirius cleared his throat, his head suddenly ducked down. When he looked up a moment later, the shaken expression on his face from before was gone. Instead, he gave a small smile. 

“I mean,” he continued, ”you and me, we’re clearly the best team, right?”  

James closed his eyes for a second and let the easy confidence of Sirius’ words wash over him, the tension in his shoulders loosening at the clear trust in his voice. 

“Right,” James echoed, voice softer than he meant to. 

“Next you’re going to say we could even take on Dumbles,” he teased, eyes fluttering open. 

Sirius’ gaze was still on him. “And if I do?” 

James tilted his head with a slow grin, dark hair falling into his eyes. “I’d say when.“ 

Sirius laughed in what sounded like pure surprise and delight, eyes shining so bright they almost looked like stars. 

“We might need Remus for that too.” 

James laughed and swatted at his shoulder, and Sirius grinned at him. 

Sleep came easier after that. 

When the morning came, the whole Common Room was still buzzing with noise. Breakfast was no better, with students continuously sneaking glances at them or blatantly staring.

James ignored the pointed looks he knew were coming from Crouch’s group at the Slytherin table, but glanced over his shoulder at a group of third year Hufflepuffs whose whispering was starting to get a little too loud and obvious. 

They shrieked and scrambled away from their little circle, one of them even trying to hide behind a bowl of fruit salad. James smirked and turned to Sirius, who rolled his eyes with an amused but smug tilt of his lips. 

“Oh no,” Remus whispers in sudden horror,  glancing between them. ”You two are gonna be even more arrogant now, aren’t you?”

He gave a loud sigh. “How will I fit your heads through the door to our dorm tonight?”

James gasped in mock outrage at the accusation, and pointed with his spoon. “How dare you, good sir, our heads are perfectly normal!”

Peter grinned. “Are they really?” 

Remus snickered, then choked a little when Sirius kicked him under the table.

 “Shut up and eat your greens, Moony. You too, Tail.” 

“I hate greens,” Remus grumbled. “Even those glowy mushrooms from the Forest are better than whatever this is.” 

“That’s a carrot,” James deadpanned.

“Oh he knows,” Sirius remarked conspiratorially as Remus stabs at the offending vegetable, obviously enjoying the stabbing part the most, “I think he just refuses to acknowledge its existence.”

“They’re a force of evil,” Remus muttered, his eyes glinting with satisfaction as he finally managed to pierce the offending orange vegetable with his fork. 

“You know, Prongs,” Sirius chuckled, leaning closer, “he’s kind of like you with pears.” 

“That’s different!”

“Wait,” Peter said, brows pulled together in puzzlement. “What with a pear?”

“The entrance to the kitchens.” James explained, his lips pursed. “Why can a fruit be tickled, why does it laugh? It gave me an existential crisis, Pete, I can’t look at pears normally anymore.” 

James shook his head with played-up disappointment as they laughed, his own shoulders shaking with barely suppressed laughter. He had been about to speak when a sharp shriek sounded from somewhere above them, and the words in his mouth turned into a tired sigh. 

This wouldn't end well. 

Peter, sitting across from him, paused with a spoon half-way to his mouth, his eyes suddenly widening.  

“Incoming!” he shrieked and ducked so quickly he bashed the spoon against the table and set it flying towards Remus’ plate, who startled and accidentally inhaled a part of his carrot instead of eating it. 

In the next second, a bird with light brown wings swooped down, narrowly passing the place James’ head was just a few seconds ago. The wings unravelled, flattering rapidly to stop the lighting-quick descent, but it was too late and the bowl of cereal was too close. The owl crashed into it, the little rings of cereal flying everywhere. James suppressed a wince, but the owl only shook its head and hopped back on its feet, its wings cutting through the air as it rights itself.

“You should be more careful, Spooks,” James chided, because he could’t really stop himself. The owl gave an uncorned coo, but did lovingly  nib at his fingers, which James figured was the most he’d get out of her. 

Sirius watched them with his head propped up by his hand, a smirk on his face that looked both amused and something James couldn’t properly place. There were a few stray rings of cereal in his hair, caused by the recent accidental explosion and James doubted his own hair was much better. 

“She’s about as careful as her owner,” Sirius remarked and Spooky cooed in what sounded like agreement as she continued to ruffle her feathers. 

“Hey,” James protested. “You’re her owner too, remember?” 

He had made Sirius sign it and everything, all the way back in their first year. It had only taken Sirius carefully petting Spooky's head, his eyes filled with longing as he had whispered, “My parents would never let me have an owl,” and James had been decided. That day, after class, he had pulled out his inks and his best quill and wrote with the utmost care and precision an eleven year old could muster. 

“She already loves you anyway, so don’t worry. You only need to write your name here,” James remembers saying, pointing at the empty space on the scroll when Sirius had only continued to stare at the words before him, his fingers trembling where they held the paper. 

The Sirius in front of him now glanced to the side and then back, his eyes almost shining, “Yeah,” he said, “I remember.”  

The weight of the words made something warm spread inside his chest and James had to duck his head to hide the way he positively beamed, teeth biting into his lower lip as he tried to force it down. Or you know, at least not to appear as smitten as he thought he must have looked. 

“You’re both about as careful as a stump in the Forbidden forest,” Remus remarked drily and Peter snickered, James and Sirius doing  the same. 

“Wouldn’t a stump be really careful, though?” James asked through the chuckles. “I mean what can it do, it literally can’t move.”  

“Right? It probably wouldn’t move even if it could,” Sirius agreed. “Forbidden  Forest being the hot spot and all.” 

Remus groaned, face falling into his palms. Peter patted him on the shoulder, his face the perfect picture of sympathy. “It’s okay, mate, happens to the best of us.”

James grinned, then turned back to Spooky when she continued to push her head against his hand.  

“Ah,” he said. “You have a letter.”

Spooky happily cooed, though the sentence was an overstatement. She didn’t really have anything. The letter in question was lying haphazardly in the abused bowl of thousand-different flavoured cereal. Sirius let the hand propping his head up fall and instead leaned over the table, fingers easily snatching the envelope.

“Thanks,” James said when Sirius had handed it to him, his eyes already flying across the paper. 

“It’s from mum!” he exclaimed happily. “I wanted to write to her today, but I guess the Prophet’s quicker..” 

He scanned the contents of the letter, grinning. “I was right, it’s about the Tournament. She says she had no doubt that it would be us and that I shouldn’t pull you into too much trouble - pff , can you believe that? It’s you pulling me into trouble like fifty percent of the time, it’s mutual, can’t believe she doesn’t know that—”

Sirius gave an amused hum as he listened, though his attention was divided by trying to get rid of the cereal in his hair.

“—and she says we should dress warm since the Tournament will be mostly outdoors,” James glanced up as he read that, a grin across his face. Sirius smiled. 

They were going to be battling against who knows what and doing insane tasks and she was concerned about that…Merlin, James really loved his mum. 

“And she says she’s really proud and can’t wait to see all of us for winter break.”

Peter and Remus cheered while Spooky cooed again, demanding attention as she moved her head to press against James’ fingers.

James happily relented, scratching lightly above her beak, before he leaned to the side, extending the letter towards Sirius, “Wanna read it?” 

“I, ” — Sirius hesitated — “Maybe later.” 

James nodded with a small smile in his direction and made a mental note to leave it on his bedside table with the others letters, easily accessible. 

Even years after his mom had continued to include Sirius in everything and made sure to praise him and scold him as much as James, Sirius still sometimes acted like he couldn't believe it. James understood that, even if thinking about it hurt like getting hit with a slashing curse. He’d be forever grateful to his mom and dad for accepting Sirius so readily, for showing him the love he more than deserved. 

As the other owls continued to swoop in with packages and letters, the hall filled with loud shrieks, shrill exclamations of students and the rustling sounds of paper. 

Remus opened his newly delivered copy of the Daily Prophet while Peter tried to look over his shoulder to read as well. Spooky took it as an opportunity to hop in closer and nimble at the toast still limply held in his hand. 

“Why don’t you just buy your own?” Remus complained when he noticed him looking, as he does every morning, before he sighed and angled the newspaper. Peter gave him a sheepish smile as he leaned in closer, eyes skipping across the pages.

The front page turned towards James was a large picture of the Minister for Magic and a witch that he didn’t recognise, with a beaming expression and hair pulled into a loose bun at  the top of her head. 

The Minister for Magic, Harold Minchum, looked about as happy as always, which wasn’t saying much. His lips were pulled into a thin line, eyes tired and unreadable as he stood on a simple podium behind the witch, who was gesturing wildly with her hands and giving occasional bright smiles. 

Next to the witch was another wizard, standing tall with a small smile on his lips and James only had to take a split second to look at his face to recognise him. Hamish MacFarlan, the previous quidditch captain of the Montrose Magpies.

The blazing title above the picture read: ‘ Head of the Department of International Magical Co-operation and Head of Magical Games and Sports announce the chosen champions of the Triwizard Tournament!’  

James pulled his eyes up from  the title page just in time to notice the way Remus’ face contorted into a grave expression. Next to him, Peter stopped fidgeting.

"It happened again, didn't it?" Sirius asked, voice suddenly sombre. 

James could almost physically feel the heavy weight falling across their group, pressing onto their shoulders. 

After a second, Remus gave a jerky nod, “Two muggle-born witches were found in London this morning, both killed by an Unforgivable.” 

His fingers clutched around the pages, turning white around the knuckles, “The Dark mark was found above them.” 

“Damned Death Eaters,” James cursed, squeezing his arms almost painfully around himself. Sirius looked ready to run out and find the Death Eaters himself, his hands balled into fists while Remus continued to look vaguely ill. 

James wished he could do something, anything. Dread was spreading on the bottom of his stomach, its roots digging in further with the knowledge that tomorrow’s newspapers, or next weeks, or the week after, might bring more similar news.

They were at war, even if the Ministry still hesitated to call it that. Even if they still were hesitant after all the attacks, all the unexplained disappearances.

They were at war and somehow, James  wasn't sure if they were winning. 

“They’re sick,” Sirius gritted out through his teeth. “Bloody Merlin-forsaken bastards.”

“I’m just glad I’m not muggle born,” Peter muttered quietly. 

James blinked. “What?”

“Ah, that,” Peter quickly waved his hands, his voice going slightly higher in pitch. “I just meant, that I’m glad my family aren’t muggles, you know. I would be so scared for their safety.” 

Sirius’ eyes stayed narrowed, as they have been since Peter had spoken up. “It concerns everyone.” 

“Of course. The attacks are even after half-bloods and anyone who stands in their way, I know that.” Which wasn’t the point Sirius was making, James knew that, saw the way Sirius’s eyes narrowed even further, but Peter continued.  “It would be even harder then though, you must admit that.” 

Sirius continued to look at him for a few seconds longer, Peter practically squirming under his gaze before Sirius turned his head away. 

James could see the way Peter almost physically sagged with relief, ink-stained fingers moving to brush away stray blond hair.  

Remus glanced between them, “You’re right, but anything can happen to anyone, Pete.”

The words made a small shiver run up James’ spine. 

Peter nodded, looking chastised.

“I know,” he assured, voice weak. “I swear I didn’t mean it like that, guys.” 

Remus only nodded, and turned the conversation away to today’s schedule. 

When James and Sirius finally made their way to the courtyard, the Durmstrang champions were already there, standing apart from each other as if to appear they were alone. 

The distance seemed so much starker in comparison to the way James knew he only had to reach slightly to the side for his hands to collide with Sirius walking right beside him. 

The sun bathed the square in a golden hue, the rays warming the back of their necks as they moved towards the stone fountain in the middle. 

Lenci Bokorova glanced at them as they came in closer, her face impassive and posture stiff. 

“Hi,” Theo said, looking relieved to see them, a smile spreading across his face as they exchanged greetings, though the corners of it were tense. 

They made small talk for a while, talking about what the task could possibly entail and yesterday’s ceremony, all while Bokorova resolutely continued to ignore any attempts to pull her into the conversation.

 James couldn’t say he was surprised, so he shrugged it off. From the way Theo seemed uneasy in her presence, it was clear the two were far from friends. 

"Any guesses about the Trial?” James asked, and Theo opens his mouth to answer, but Bokorova’s loud scoff made him falter. 

He swallowed, hair obscuring his eyes as he lowered his head, staring at the ground. 

James sent her a glare, almost surprising himself at the force of it. “What, suddenly have something urgent to say?” 

Bokorova's cold, self-assured expression slipped away to surprise. “What?” 

James lifted his brow. “You heard me.”

“It’s okay-” Theo started to say but Bokorova’s face darkened, her lips consorting into a thin line. “Don’t you know who I am -”

Sirius lazily crosses his hands, interrupting her. “We don’t care if you’re some big deal at your school, it doesn’t give you the right to walk over people.” 

She whipped her head around to Sirius, eyes sharp and narrowed, “And why should I care what you think is important, blood traitor? Your words mean nothing to me.” 

Great, James thought as Sirius’ frame next to him grew tense, so she’s that kind of an asshole. 

“Yeah, his family made him return his ‘My words matter certificate’ when he left their cursed asses,” James said, then slowly tilted his head, cold eyes assessing her. “It’s only been a problem with assholes though, everyone else knows you don’t need it.” 

Theo choked on a chuckle, poorly hiding it behind a cough while Bokorova grew red with anger, sputtering. 

“Nice one,” Sirius whispered and James glanced at him just in time to catch the minute, private smile on his face. 

He mirrored it for a split second and happened to glance to his other side, only to find the courtyard no longer empty. 

Lily Evans stood a few feet away, with the remaining champions from Beauxbatons a few steps behind her. 

There was an uninterpretable expression on her face and she stared directly at James for a moment, one hand gripping the strap of her school bag. The two girls behind her regard them with matching wide eyes, Clarisse Toussaint’s mouth even hanging slightly open. 

James’ eyes flitted between them. 

Did they hear it all? How long have they been standing there?

A movement at the corner of his eye. With a lift of her chin, Bokorova turned away from their little group, her cloak rustling loudly in the sudden quiet. The ice cold impassive expression looked to be firmly back on her face.

“Ehm,” Evans started, her eyes glancing between them before she turned to the two girls. “As you can see this is the main courtyard, I hope you’ll be able to find your way here next time, but if you don’t, don’t hesitate to send for me, or for any of our students. I’m sure everyone will be glad to help.” 

She sent them a smile and with a last look their way, she moved away, heading towards the gate. 

In the next moment, sounds of footsteps filtered to their ears and James turned just in time to notice Professor McGonagall walking closer to them, levitating a small chest, the two other Headmasters following closely behind her.

Madame Bellegrade was sporting a large wide-brim hat with an even larger purple bow, and Headmaster Eriksson looked severe, which seemed to be his default expression. Dumbledore was trailing not far behind them, his long, silvery beard swaying slightly in the cold wind. His expression was open and closed off at the same time, giving nothing away except for a small, curious twinkle behind his moon-shaped glasses.

“My dears,” Madame Bellegrade hurried to her students with a frown on her face, reaching out to grab their hands. “I’m incredibly sorry for sending you on that little errand, surely you haven’t missed breakfast for it?”

“No worries, Madame, we ate beforehand. Monsieur Hagrid sends his regards and swears the horses are well taken care of, ” assured Apolline, squeezing her hand, and Madame gave her a warm smile. A glance in Clarisse’s direction and Apollin’s expressions turned a bit sheepish, “I must admit we got a bit lost on our way back, Madame.” 

Dumbledore gave a loud, good-natured laugh. “I myself get lost here sometimes as well, the Hogwarts grounds are full of surprises, even after many years.”

Madame angled her head with a smile, one of her gloved hands going up to right up the brim of her blue hat. The little butterflies that looked like simple embroidery on the sides of the hat fluttered their wings, the hat changing colour to yellow. 

James thought he saw Eriksson glance at her hat with what looked like barely concealed horror, which James kind of understood. The idea of live butterflies on a hat just didn’t sit that well with him, even if they were enchanted. Not to mention it kind of made Madame’s hat look like it could fly off at any given moment. 

Madame didn’t seem to notice or care. “I assume the students of this école helped you find your way, then?” 

“Yes, Madame,” nodded Clarisse, which seemed to satisfy her. Across her, McGonagall twirled her wand and the chest gently settled down on the grass, the old wood giving a little squeak. 

“Now,” Dumbledore said, blinking at them. “I believe you were called here to hear about the First task, weren’t you. Well, the Tournament will have three tasks, spanning the remaining length of the school year. Each of them will be announced in due time, giving you enough time to prepare however you see fit. Please don't forget that the school's library is open to all of you, but the Restricted Section still falls under strict rules and can be access only after attaining a permission slip from your Headmasters or Head teacher.” 

Everyone nodded and James with them, committing the Headmaster’s words to memory. 

Dumbledore swept his arm in a grateful arch toward the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, giving her an important nod. 

“Unless otherwise specified,” Madame smoothly continued, her eyes trailing across each of the champions, “if a team fails to accomplish the Task’s objectives they can no longer continue the competition. Otherwise, they move into the next round. The only exception is the last round, where only the first place is counted as the winner of the Tournament.” 

The courtyard stayed quiet for a moment and James used the time to mull the rules over in his head. No additional points for first place, or even distinction between the individual places…That must have meant the Tournament was too difficult for something like that and that the winner was simply the last one standing, regardless of how they had done in the Tasks before. 

It went against everything they follow in Quidditch, but James guessed it did make sense here. Even getting to the Tasks would be demanding, much less completing it. Whoever manages to get to the last task and come in first probably more than deserves to win. 

He exchanged a look with Sirius, then looked back forward just in time to see as Dumbledore meaningfully blinked at Eriksson who startled. Judging by the long quiet after Madam’s speech, he probably forgot he also had to speak. 

“Yes.” Eriksson cleared his throat. “The First task happens in ten days. Be ready.”

James stared at him, expecting more, but Eriksson only stared right back at them, expression closed off. Apolline glanced at Clarisse with confusion, her friend mirroring her and shrugging. Professor McGonagall gave a measured, clean cough. 

Eriksson jerked a little, spine straightening. 

“Those ten days should be more than enough for you to prepare, as well as try to figure out a riddle from these scrolls,” he gave a curt, jerky gesture towards professor McGonagall. With a flick of her wand, the chest lying at her feet opened and three scrolls, each tied with a golden ribbon, floated into the air. 

“Solving the riddle will give you an advantage over the other champions as it represents important clues for the First task. Use it well.”  

With that, Professor McGonagall flickered her wand again, this time in a wide, horizontal arch. 

The scrolls moved, floating easily towards each pair of the Champions before coming to a stop before them. Across him, James noted Bokorova snatching the scroll with lightning speed, her fingers crumpling the paper with the force of her grip. She didn’t make any move to open it and Theo stared at her, an unsure expression on his face. 

“Look,” Sirius nudged him, pulling his focus towards the unrolled scroll he was holding before both of them. James leaned in closer, eyes scanning across the text. 

‘where majestic oaks turn to dust,

where leaves never fall

but ground will always shake,

long beyond the castle wall

their everything you’ll need to take, 

where majestic oaks turn to dust,

will they ever trust?’

His brows furrowed, and he moved to read the text again, but Professor McGonagall clapped her hands, pulling everyone’s attention towards her.

“From now on,” she stated, “you will have the aforementioned ten days. Study the riddles well and prepare yourself. And remember, any help from outside the Champion circle is strictly forbidden.”

Her eyes flew across the faces of the Champions for the second time, briefly stopping on James and Sirius, before she gave a curt nod. “Good luck.” 

As the Headmasters bid their goodbyes and turned to leave, the rest of their little circle quickly dispersed. 

Apolline and Clarisse had settled down on one of the benches by the wall and eagerly began to discuss the scroll, their voices hushed as they pointed at certain words on the paper. Bokorova had wasted no time and strides off directly after the professors, uncaring for Theo’s voice calling after her, the scroll still firmly held in her fist.

“At least let me read it!” Theo shouted, but the door behind her fell shut with a loud metallic sound, echoing around the now almost empty courtyard. 

Theo sighed, his shoulders hunching forward. 

“Theo,” James called, swallowing his anger. “Come look at ours.” 

Theo’s head lifted so fast it looked like it must have hurt. The expression on his face was surprised, disbelieving. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, a hopeful but unsure tilt to his voice. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” Sirius told him, beckoning him closer with his hand, “Come here.”

With lingering hesitance, he took the scroll, quickly reading the contents before he looked up again, lips pulled into a grateful smile. “Thank you, really.”

“Wouldn’t be much fair competition otherwise would it?” James shrugged, but Theo shook his head. 

“Not just for this,” he clarified. “For before too. It means a lot, really.” 

“It was nothing,” Sirius stated and James waved it away as well, unsure what to do with the sudden gratitude he didn't feel deserving of. 

“Don’t mention it,“ he added, “She was being a tosser,”

Sirius nodded with a frown. “A colossal one at that. You should tell her to go and break her wand.”

Theo grinned, looking more like himself than he has ever since they entered the courtyard. “She really was, wasn’t she?” His expression flickered. “I’m sorry for what she said.” 

“Just ignore her,” Sirius advised, “or better, fight her.” 

Theo laughed. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Do you want to write the riddle down?” James asked because Merlin knows he barely remembered reading it himself and he couldn’t imagine Theo retaining the words for over a week. 

Theo blinked, eyes going wide. “Could I?” 

James exchanged an exasperated look with Sirius.  

A few minutes later, Theo was sitting on the bench, a borrowed quill in his hands as he carefully copied the riddle onto an empty parchment.

James spent the time sprawled on the ground, throwing stables of grass at Sirius’ leg next to him and counting how many he could throw before Sirius noticed. 

“The ten days,” James started after Theo had left them with another round of thanks, still from his position on the ground. The grass tingled as he ran his hands through it, eyes following the motion. 

The chill of the ground was slowly spreading to his bones, but with each day getting colder, James knew they'd not have many more opportunities to lie on the ground like this. He’d take what he could get.

From the corner of his eye, he could see as Sirius lifted up on his elbows. 

“It’s then, isn’t it?” he asked and James gave a heavy nod.

“In nine days exactly, just before the First task.” 

Sirius sighed and lets himself fall onto his back, dark hair spreading like a crown against the ground. 

“I was hoping it was the day after.”

“We’ll have to check the date in the dorm,” James allowed, “but I’m pretty sure Full Moon's then.”

The Full Moon. James remembered the dates well, kept a silent track of them in his head, though there wasn’t  much need for it, with the multiple parchments that they have stashed in their dorm, meticulously marking each day. And now the nearest full moon falls on the night before the task. 

"Light," Sirius groaned, hand moving to rest across his eyes. “Our luck is truly something else." 

With a sigh, James let himself fall on his back as well. 

The next class would be starting soon, one they'll be expected to attend, but his mind kept straying back to the scroll. Whatever the Task entailed, they needed to figure it out, and fast.