CHAPTER XI

“Are you sure you have everything?” Euphemia asked for about the seventh time since they came down to the kitchen for breakfast. The whole room was filled with the smell of freshly baked bread, and James forgoed answering verbally for a series of nods as he took another large bite out of the slice on his plate. It was still warm, and tasted absolutely heavenly.

“Good, good,” she mumbled absently then turned to levitate the last of the plates onto the table. There was way too much of it really, James had no doubt the leftovers alone could easily feed five people, or a slightly bored cave troll.

Still, it felt so nice that his mum wanted to spoil them before they had to leave again, that he couldn’t even force himself to bring it up as a joke. 

He was looking forward to going back to Hogwarts, of course he was, but spending the break back home had been so comfortable, that part of him almost didn't want to leave. 

“We’ll send Spooky to you later,” Euphemia said as she sat down, not so covertly pushing some of the dishes closer to them. “I doubt she’d want to be cooped up in the train for so long, and I could use her to deliver some letters.”

“Sure,” James agreed easily. Spooky always hated being confined to her cage, and while James liked to let her out when on the train, she’d no doubt prefer flying to just hopping around the red cushions of the Express. 

“Just don’t forget she’s not the most grateful flyer.”

Sirius smirked at the understatement, poorly hiding it under a short cough. James discreetly elbowed him in the ribs, trying to suppress his own smile.

As if sensing they were talking about her, Spooky glided past one of the windows in the kitchen, newly fallen snow dusting off her wings as she made a sharp turn. It seemed like she was really enjoying it, James thought idly. Maybe those hours spent with wild owls were really worth something.

He followed the trajectory of her fight until she disappeared from sight again, then turned his attention back to the conversation at the table. His mum was just explaining the joys of collecting gargoyles, recounting how she bought a statue that turned out to be cursed, which had Sirius listening with great interest.

“Keep your eyes open when you get back,” Fleamont said after they had finished breakfast, his fingers intertwining around the steaming tea cup in front of him. “The whole situation at Hogwarts right now is highly unusual. While the Chamber of Secrets might be nothing but a myth, someone still attacked another student.”

His face grew serious as his eyes flitted between James and Sirius at the other end of the table, a small furrow appearing between his eyebrows. 

“I know Hogwarts is your home too, but the times are dangerous. No matter what the teachers say, don’t let down your guard so easily.”

“We won’t,” Sirius promised, and James gave a resolute nod.

“And don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

“Dad…” James pressed his lips together, expression conflicted. “There’re a lot of things I can promise, but not that.”

“I know,” Fleamont sighed, the sound weighted even as his lips weakly pulled up. “I know…”

Euphemia leaned over in her seat to lay a hand on her husband’s shoulder, her voice gentle. “What else did you expect, dear? It’s our boys after all. If there was a burning building, they’d be the first ones to run in.”

James wanted to refute that, but when he opened his mouth to object, he realised he couldn’t. 

If there really was a burning fire, of course he’d have to run in. How else would the people trapped inside get out? Besides, who else would be there to make sure Sirius made it out? He’d definitely run in, which meant James had to as well.

The look on Sirius’ face made it seem like he had a similar train of thought.

Euphemia chuckled fondly at their expressions, then reached out to lightly pat both of them on their heads. 

“At least try to not run into every fire, alright, boys?”

“Yes, mum.”

“Yes, Mrs. Potter” — at the sharp look, Sirius glanced down, chastised — “Effie.”

“Good.” she smiled as she settled back in her seat. “I think that’s the most one can  get out of someone like you two. That reminds me, please tell me you will be talking to that wretched journalist again.” 

“Wait,” James stared at her. “You want us to talk to Skeeter again? The article she wrote was pure trash.”

“Oh, I know,” she said brightly, folding her hands on the table. “I had a lot of fun with it. You see, I brought it to my weekly tea with the aunties and we tore it to shreds.”

“Literally or figuratively?” Sirius asked, his eyes slightly narrowing in a way that has some of the lower years tremble, but really just meant he was intently listening.

A small smile started to play at the corners of Fleamont’s mouth before he brought the tea before him, hiding his amusement behind the brim of the cup. 

James’ eyes jumped between his parents.

“Mum,” he urged a little desperately, “literally or figuratively?”

Euphemia only innocently looked at them, then gestured to one of the plates on the table.

“Do taste some of the pumpkin pastries, my dears. I tried out a new recipe.” 

“They’re delicious, Effie.”

“Thank you, dear.”

James blinked rapidly, then exchanged a bit of a bewildered look with Sirius. Euphemia refused to elaborate and instead reached for one of her strawberry pastries, winking at them as she did so.

The Hogwarts Express arrived without any delay and though the conversation in their compartment was slightly stilted at the beginning, James refused to let it ruin their first day back together. 

Peter had at least excused himself this time, and though the letter did leave a bit of bitter aftertaste in James’ mouth, it wasn’t impossible he had really just gotten sick and was too tired to write as he usually would. Either way, there was no point in thinking about it any longer. 

The mood and weather had gotten better as they’ve gotten further away from London, the sky slowly turning from grey to light blue. 

James leaned even more of his weight into the palm of his hand as he gazed outside, chill seeping through the window and spreading across his left side. Ever so often, the sun would shine brighter, making the snow-covered fields around them shimmer in the light. 

“How can the snow still not be melting,” Remus complained from where he was slumped over in the seat opposite of James, shoulders and back hunched in a way that would have anyone unused to such positions squirming in pain the next day. 

James wasn’t sure what it said about the health of Remus’ back that he didn’t seem to feel it anymore. Probably nothing good.

“It’s still too early for it to melt, Moony,” he replied, shaking his head a little. “Besides, snow is pretty.”

“You don’t even like snow that much. You just like it because Sirius does.”

“Hmm, guilty.” James grinned easily, shrugging. “It’s really fun to play in though.”

Remus rubbed at his arm, as if remembering the multiple snowballs he got showered with a few weeks ago while Peter gave a series of quick nods, rushing to agree with the same eagerness he was showing ever since the train left the station.

“That’s true! And you get presents during this season too!”

“Still,” Remus mumbled under his breath, “it could melt sooner.”

“Just say you hate snow.”

“I don’t, it’s just so… wet. Why?” 

“Because it’s water?”

“I know that!”

James laughed. “Are you sure all this talk is not just because you’re scared to be passing through the Ice trolls' territory when they’re still awake?”

Remus’ face contorted into an unconvincing expression. “No…”

James glanced outside again in thought. “It would be kind of fun to get snowed in on the train here, wouldn’t it? Maybe just for a night or so?” 

He had to suppress a laugh at the identical looks of horrors that crossed Remus’ and Peter’s faces. 

“What? I’m not saying I want that, just that it could be interesting. The ice around their camps is supposed to be as high as the walls of Hogwarts, you know.” 

Remus looked a little like he wasn’t sure what part of that to be more horrified with. 

“The train’s too small,” Sirius said casually, his propped up leg lazily swinging back and forth in the air. “You'd go stir-crazy.”

“Not with you here I wouldn’t.”

Sirius tilted his head ever so slightly, considering it, before he nodded. “It would be cool.” 

“You want us to get stuck in the territory of ice trolls to look at their walls ?” Peter asked, his voice getting dangerously shrill at the end.

“They’re pretty good at flutes too,” Sirius observed idly, smirking, and James grinned.

“Sweet.”

Sirius’ smirk widened into a grin. Opposite of them, Remus opened his mouth, then seemed to think better of it, and closed it. 

James nudged him with his foot. “Don’t look so scared, Moony. It’ll be fine.”

“I’m not scared,” Remus denied reflexively, crossing his hands. “The trolls have their deals with the Ministry. Even if something happened, they wouldn’t attack.” 

A sudden, small frown appeared between his brows, his voice turning grim. “...Well, at least they shouldn’t. But that doesn’t mean much these days, does it?”

Peter shifted in his seat, the sound suddenly loud in the quiet that had fallen over their compartment. “You mean the Prophet?”

“Yeah.” Remus nodded, straightening from his twisted position to lean forward in his seat, his voice lowering. “The Prophet said that they just found out Death Eaters are trying to get goblins onto their side, but Dad told me the Ministry already knew about it since summer.” 

His fingers tugged at some of the loose threads in the cushion under him. “One of his colleagues knows a guy that supposedly even did an interview for the Prophet about it, but then it never got printed.”

“But,” Peter started haltingly, clearly confused, “why now? Why did they decide to talk about it after so long?”

“Who knows what those bastards think?” Sirius said darkly. “My guess is they wanted to bring up their sales again.”

James tilted his head slightly, lips pressed together in thought before he nodded. 

“It’s fucked up,” he said, “which sadly means it sounds about right. The attacks have been declining ever since winter started, and those sell the most.”

Remus leaned in closer, the cushion under him squeaking a little. “That might be the case, yeah. Dad says the Aurors don’t really care what the Prophet prints, but that the sudden lull in attacks worries them. There’re talks within the Ministry that the goblins might already be on Voldermot’s side, and that he’s moving onto something else next, maybe giants. Some of his people were seen travelling north.”

Peter visibly shivered.

“Some believe,” Remus continued, “that the sudden quiet is because he’s focusing on gathering as many allies as he can, but, well… there are some that…”

He trailed off, an uncomfortable expression passing across his face as he tugged at the sleeve of his woollen sweater again. The left sleeve was noticeably longer than the right one, the material stretched with repeated pulling and tugging.

“Some think that he’s preparing for something bigger,” James finished for him, and Remus nodded, meeting his eyes for a split second before looking away.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“But that’s unlikely, right? If something big was happening, then... then the Ministry would know. And if not them, then surely Dumbledore would! He’s the best wizard there ever was, is he not?” Peter insisted. 

At the mention of the Headmaster, Remus’ face cleared a little, his shoulders straightening. 

“Yeah, yeah, probably. You’re right.”

The mood was high at the first dinner since the start of the new year, the chatter in the hall lively and loud as students caught up about their experiences during the winter break, recounted new amusing stories or boasted about the gifts they received from their family. 

At the end of the short feast, the three Headmasters of wizarding schools stood in front of the teacher’s table, briefly assuring everyone that they’ve found nothing nefarious in their search of the school. Though they still urged for caution, the almost unnoticeable tension lingering in the air seemed to slowly evaporate. 

When they ended their speech with the mention that Dirk Creswell was expected to make a full recovery very soon, the hall erupted into loud cheers, the Gryffindors clapping particularly loudly. 

Even for those that hardly knew Creswell, or didn’t care, his attack served as a dangerous precedent. If one student was attacked, who was to say who could be next? But if he were to make a swift recovery, well, then the situation couldn’t be as bad. Just a misfortune really, a spell gone wrong. A strange lapse in security measures of the castle.

As James learned later that night when he ran into Frank near the staircase, Madam Pomfrey was sure that she would get Dirk back on his feet within the next two weeks. The mandrakes were already well grown, and she was only giving them additional time to make sure that the concoction she would have Professor Slughorn make would be as potent as possible. 

Though talks of the Chamber of Secrets were still popular, especially for the Slytherins, they did lessen in the light of the second task of the tournament, which was approaching with sudden swiftness.

Between the Quidditch training, another fresh load of essays including a particularly long one on ghouls and alghouls, and their work on improving the Marauder’s Map, the day of the next task was swiftly approaching. Though he was expecting it, James was still almost surprised when Professor McGonagall held them up after a class one day. They were to meet her at the main courtyard at four o'clock tomorrow.

The rest of the day passed by in a quick blurr and when the sun rose, the whole school was buzzing with anticipation.

By the time the fourth hour of the afternoon rolled around, Remus was already at the infirmary and would set out any moment now with Madam Pomfrey towards the Shrieking Shack. With the spring only beginning, the sun was still setting too soon, and one could never be too careful.

James sat down at the base of a nearby column at the courtyard while Sirius leaned against it, the two of them silently watching the clouds move. The sky above them was already gainging on a faint dark tint.

There was a pressure inside James’ chest whenever he thought about the fact that Remus would have to spend the whole transition alone this time, but there was nothing to be done. Having just Peter with him wasn’t the best idea, not to mention that Peter was too scared to do something like that either way.

“It’ll be fine,” Remus had assured them, squeezing James’ shoulder when he noticed his expression hadn’t changed. “Really. It's just one night. I did well during the holidays, didn't I?”

None of them mentioned he had his family there then.

“We’ll visit you as soon as possible in the morning.”

“Alright,” Remus had smiled weakly at their resolute nods. It seemed like it had taken all his energy to do so, his face so pale that the dark purple bags under his eyes stood out even more. He had to put on two sweaters that morning just to stave off the incoming chill. “I’ll be looking forward to it. Pete, make sure to cheer in my place as well.”

“Yes, sir.” Peter had nodded seriously.

"Follow me," Professor McGonagall announced unceremoniously as soon as she appeared, pulling James out of his thoughts.

She turned around before they could answer, already walking away, and James quickly got up, while Sirius pushed himself away from the collumn.

Professor McGonagall led them onto the school grounds, taking the same path as the last time, snow crunching under each of their steps. As they neared the Quidditch pitch, she ushered them towards the large blue tent they waited in last time, and wordlessly held up the lapel of the tent so that James and Sirius could enter.

With a quick wish of good luck, she was already marching away, the tent falling shut behind her, leaving them alone.

As soon as she was gone, James nudged Sirius with his shoulder, making them sway slightly. “Still hungry?”

They've shoved down some food between rushing to the meeting point, but not nearly enough, with the time pressuring them.

“A little,” Sirius admitted after a moment. 

James grinned. “Good. I sneaked us some bread.” 

He broke the piece he put into his pocket in half, extending it to Sirius, whose eyes brightened. Together they happily munched on it while the chatter from outside continued to grow as more and more students started to arrive and settled into the nearby stands.

The rest of the champions were brought in a few moments later, the escorting teachers disappearing as soon as they came. From the hurry Professor McGonagall was in, James guessed they still had their hands full with the preparations. 

There was barely time to exchange greetings with the rest of the champions before the side of the tent was being pulled aside once more, and a figure of a tall wizard entered, the grin on his lips widening as his glinting eyes fell onto them.

“Hello, it’s good to see you all again!” Sebastian Kirling said loudly, clapping his hands together. “As last time, I’m here on the behalf of the department of Magical Games and Sports. Your headmasters are already seated at the tribunes, so this  time it will be just me and you.”

“And also me of course,” sang a voice from behind him and in the next second, Rita Skeeter appeared from behind his back, quill already held in hand. Today, she was dressed in a yellow and green suit with a pattern that reminded James of one of the poisonous mushrooms in the Forbidden Forest.

From the self-assured, almost gloating look on her face, he was half-expecting her to demand another round of interviews, but she only moved to the side, settling onto one of the chairs while brandishing a little notebook out of her left pocket. By the time Kirling had turned back to them, she was already writing. 

“You all know, Miss Skeeter already,” Kirling said cordially, as he came closer to them, “so no need to be shy. She’ll be around the tournament the whole day, recording it for the Prophet.”

At the mix of unsure and uncaring looks on their faces, he put on a large, unbothered smile, and clapped his hands again.

“Well, I’m sure you’re all eager for the task already, so let’s get straight to the business, shall we?” 

He rested his hands at his hips, pacing before them. 

“The second task is designed to test your unity. Your objective is to find a gate that will let you out of the arena and go through it. The team who finishes the first will have the best starting position in the next task and an additional clue.”

His eyes glinted. “Now, I don’t think I need to mention that your task won’t be just finding this gate. You’ll also need to deal with the numerous dangers you encounter and navigate the arena itself.”

James glanced at Sirius, meeting his gaze with a small tilt of his lips. An arena then, that sounded fun.

“Similar to last time,” Kirling continued, his voice gaining speed, “if at any time you feel like the task ahead of you is above your capabilities, or you find yourself in a tough spot, feel free to withdraw by casting the red sparks.”

He stared at them for a moment, letting the words sink in, before he brandished his wand, giving it a light swing downwards. One of the unassuming crates lined up by the left corner of the tent gave a slight shake, then glided over, hovering slightly above the grass ground. 

“There’s an additional thing you must keep in mind. Since this task tests your teamwork, you will be each given a one ribbon that you must keep safe. The material was bathed in tonics that will entice the monsters inside the arena to steal it away from you, so guard it well.”

“Failure to bring both of them to the gate will have your team start ten minutes later than the other champions at the last task. The loss of one will half that time to five minutes.”

“And yes, ”he held up his hand. “Before you ask, the five minute delay extends to both parts of your team, not just the one who loses their ribbon.” 

Bokorova’s eyes narrowed, clearly sensing what he was hinting at and not appreciating it. 

“I see you’re all excited!” Kirling said brightly, easily smiling again. “Good! That’s not all. Since this is indeed a team-based task, we figured we might as well go all the way in and truly test your ability to move as a team.” He snickered for a moment, his expression freezing when he noticed the unamused looks on their faces. 

“Ah, sorry.” He laughed again, though this time a bit sheepish, one hand moving to smooth down the creases on his purple robes. “I forgot you don’t know yet. It will make sense in a minute. It wasn’t a half bad joke, you know.”

With another swish of the wand still in his hand, the lid of the crate he moved over earlier flew to the side, hitting the side of the tent with a loud, dull sound of rustling fabric, before it crashed to the ground.

It was clear Kirling aimed to make the reveal dramatic, but his eagerness only made him miscalculate. Bokorova, whose eyes followed the crate’s trajectory, lifted an unimpressed eyebrow that had Kirling  put on a smile again in an attempt to quickly regain his footing, and move on. James had to suppress a smirk. 

“Well, here it is. One band for each champion, and one for you,” he said, the glint returning back to his eyes, “as a team.”

“As a team?” Theo asked, confused. To his right, Apolline raised her hand halfway to her head, the light of nearby candles catching on the silvery material of her uniform.

“Sorry, sir,” she interrupted politely, moving the hand back behind her back. “But what are we supposed to do with the third one? Is it there, uhm, additionally?”

“Thank you for the question,  but that’s not the case, I’m afraid. No.” 

Kirling moved to the crate, searching for a bit before he held up a dark black piece of cloth, about the size of half-a-palm. “This is the most important item of this task. It is different from the ribbons you’ll tie onto yourselves, since if you lose this one, it means you’re out. End of the game. Game over, all that. It’s also much longer, enchanted to stretch to a distance of up to two metres.”

“That’s not very long…” Clarisse Toussaint mumbled and Kirling pointed at her, snapping his fingers as he did so. 

“That’s right, it’s not much. That’s the reason this band is here. We’re talking unity , after all. Allow me to demonstrate.”

He waved his hand at Apolline and Clarisse moved over to him, faces the perfect picture of politeness.

“Now hold out your hands, the ones closest to each other, yes—” He circled one end of the band a couple of times around Apolline’s thin wrist, then shifted to Clarisse to the same with the other end.

“Yes, that should be enough…” He tugged at the material once, and then, seemingly satisfied, took a step back.

Understanding filled Theo’s face, closely followed by sudden paleness. James noticed him glancing at Bokorova from the corner of his eyes, quickly looking back away when he saw her sour expression, her excitement from before waning.

James realised he understood them both. He tried to conjure up a mental image of doing a task like this with anyone else but Sirius, and just the mere idea had him wanting to grimace. 

“ This ,” Kirling said, gesturing towards the band around Beauxbatons champions, “is the core of your task. Moving together, fighting together, advising together. When one goes, the other does as well. When one wins, so does the other. When one loses… well, I’m sure you can fill that one in yourselves.”

He gave them another wide smile. The scribbling of Skeeter’s quill seemed to get louder.

Kirling had them line up next to Apolline and Clarrise, looping the band around their wrists, then having them choose one ribbon from the box that continued to levitate after him. Just as he said, the ribbons were much shorter, each of them sheer and thin, and each a different colour.  The difference in their tints had James wondering whether each of them was more likely to draw a certain type of creature, or whether Kirling simply thought the different colours would look more interesting to the audience.

They were left alone soon after, Kirling giving them time to prepare while he went on to ready his Winglings - the little devices that would be once again projecting the task to the rest of the students. Rita skipped after him, almost tripping in her haste to drape one of her arms on his shoulder.

“Surely I could come with you, Sebastian? I am curious what more you could tell me about the arena today.”

“Well, there’s not much I can really disclose Miss Skeeter-”

“Oh, please, just Rita is fine. I don’t mean to put you in a bad position, you know my newspaper will only be printing after the task, so there’s no need to worry about spoiling anyone’s fun. I’m just curious about a few details -”

They left the tent, their voices disappearing in the steadily raising chatter of the students gathering up on the nearby stands.

Finally alone, the remaining champions scattered around the tent, Theo sitting down on one of the stools by the entrance, playing with the green ribbon hanging from his wrist, Bokorova standing as far as the dark band around their arms allowed. 

They both looked like they wanted nothing more to take it off already, but Kirling had warned them that couldn’t happen until after the task. Bokorova’s mood did improve a bit after he had said that while he had to be the one to put it on, they could tear it off themselves when the task was over for them. The look on her face made it seem like she was already imagining doing that, the mental image giving her at least some satisfaction.

A little to the left of them, near the crates, Apolline quickly finished tying Clarisse’s ribbon and moved to do her own, but changed her mind and went to pick a different colour instead.

The ribbon that ended up around James’ right wrist was light gold, the colour reminiscent of yellow and golden hues of a sunrise. James tilted his wrist to one side, then the other, then smiled at Sirius, who had just finished tying it around him.

“I kind of like it, you chose a nice colour, really pretty,” he said, then extended his hand to Sirius. “Give me yours, I’ll do it.”

It took a second longer than James thought it would have before Sirius handed his own ribbon to him, his expression strangely blank, almost closed off. 

Maybe he’s already making plans for the tournament? James thought as his fingers closed around the dark red cloth, fingertips grazing Sirius’ palms as he moved his hand away, not noticing his sudden stillness.

With great care, he wrapped the ribbon around Sirius’ left wrist three times, a satisfied smile spreading across his lips as he looked up, fingers still curled around Sirius’ bound wrist.

“There,” he said softly. “Gryffindor red and gold. Now we match.” 

He brushed his fingers down the ribbon one last time, admiring the way the long, loose ends fluttered lightly in the air, the dark red a beautiful contrast against the snow around  them. He tilted his head slightly, looking up and meeting Sirius’ wide-eyed gaze. 

For a moment nothing happened. Then, Sirius’ hand gave a twitch, and he suddenly wretched his hand away, almost as if burned. 

James blinked in surprise, his hand uselessly curling around the empty air as he watched Sirius turn sideways, his ears red. 

What was-

His throat suddenly constricted, hot embarrassment rushing to his cheeks. Oh no. No. James had the sudden urge to smash his face against a wall, preferably one made of stone. 

Their hands already tied together, doing each other’s ribbons, choosing the colours… looping it exactly three times around the other’s wrist. 

James felt such a wave of dizziness that he almost stumbled. What he just did, it really was too similar to ancient wizarding weddings, wasn’t it? Of course there was no magical component, and the handfasting was a bit different and lacked the proper runes, but other than that -

“Sorry,” he got out, forcing a little laugh, the sound sheepish. “It’s probably not comfortable, right? I probably pulled it in too tight. Should I redo it? Do you want to do it yourself-”

“No.” Sirius refused, the answer so quick and vehement it made James blink in surprise.

“Oh, okay.”

James looked at him for a moment longer, but it was impossible to know what Sirius was thinking, his posture rigid, dark hair blocking the look on his face as he stared to the side. 

With a suppressed sigh James turned his attention away from him, tugging slightly at his own ribbon, fingers playing with one of the freely hanging ends.

The golden band was tied around three times as well, but that hardly meant anything -  the band was really just that unfortunate in length. That’s why he did it too. That itself wouldn’t be such a problem, but James’ touch was lingering while Sirius’ was quick, he praised the colours they’d chosen, while Sirius stayed silent. It was hardly comparable.

“Is everyone ready?” The head of Professor Sprout appeared in the entrance of the tent, her hat swinging dangerously on top of her head as it fought to regain its balance. “Good, good. Follow me.”

The short distance of the bands naturally divided them into three neat rows as they followed after her and into the noise of the outside, Lenci Bokorova stumbling ever so often as Theo took too large steps for her to follow.

By the time they’ve made it to three large stone arches by the edge of the woods, James noticed the faces around him looking more wary than before, as if only now fully realising the extent of the disadvantages that came with their hands tied. 

James refused to think about it. Having to think about it, would mean thinking about what happened before , and that would be a disaster, when just a glance at the ribbon around Sirius' wrist had him feeling sudden warmth in his cheeks.

“Let’s avoid any unnecessary running,” he heard Clarisse Toussaint whisper while Professor Sprout waved  at someone in the distance, then set to righting her hat again. “Better to finish at all than to lose. I don’t think we can run like this, not right at the start.”

“We might not have a choice,” Apolline pointed out, but otherwise didn’t protest. 

“Excited?” Professor Sprout asked as she turned her attention back to them, giving them all a  warm smile. “That’s good. Now, each of you, get ready before one of the arches. I will let you know beforehand, but as soon as you hear the sound of the horn, you can run in.”

The Beauxbatons' champions were standing right in front of them, so James could clearly see the way Toussaint’s eyes sharpened, her eyes sliding towards the woods behind the arches, as if calculating the distance.

Professor Sprout blanched a little at the eager looks on their faces, quickly waving her hands in the air, one of the stray leaves caught on her sleeve falling down on the grass, unnoticed. 

“I don’t mean just headlessly run, of course. Be careful.” She raised a finger, slightly shaking it in their direction in a warning  as she spoke, “We don’t need any more students at the infirmary, you hear me?”

They echoed agreement, and Professor Sprout nodded, satisfied. James had a feeling she was pretending not to see the way Bokorova immediately started resolutely tugging Theo towards the arch on the far right as soon as she stopped speaking, using the band around their wrists to hurry him along. The look on Theo’s face said he was both getting used to it, and found it terribly frustrating.

“You can choose first,” Apolline Verville said, motioning gracefully with her free hand, her pink ribbon following the motion with a light flutter.

Sirius turned to him, gaze questioning, and James glanced to the side, eyes falling across the two remaining structures. 

He didn’t really have a preference, if he was being honest. All three arches looked the same, standing as tall as the gate to the Great Hall, their dark grey stone ending in a sharp triangular shape. 

There were barely ten steps between each of them, and each arch looked just wide enough for two people. James kind of had to wonder if they were newly made, or if Dumbledore simply had three convenient arches lying around in one of the many of Hogwarts’ cellars - though knowing the man, the latter did seem like a very probable possibility. 

Sprout did mention that they should run ‘in’, not through, which meant that the faint markings he had noticed at the top stones had to be concealed transportation runes, a variation of the usual portkeys,  that would start to work the moment the horn sounded. 

Since they were choosing their own spots, that had to mean each gate would take them to a different starting spot of the arena, and Professor Sprout likely couldn’t just assign them to each of the doors, as to not be accused of impartiality.

Still, whatever portkey James would choose, he’d still be only guessing.  

Wordlessly, he lifted his brow, nodding slightly towards Sirius, whose gaze turned contemplative for a moment as he glanced away.

“We’ll take the one on the left,” he said and Apolline and Clarisse gave matching nods, Apolline giving them a small, encouraging smile as she left.

“Why the left?” James asked idly as they came to a stop before their chosen arch, the stony structure even bigger now that they were standing directly in front of it. 

Sirius shrugged. “Just a feeling. Though I doubt there’s any less trouble waiting for us on the other end.” 

“Like we’d want that,” James smirked widely. “Whether it’ll take us, we’ll just have to make the best of it.”

Grey eyes met his.

“When did you notice it?”

“Hm? The runes? During Sprout’s little speech.”

“So right when we first saw it…” Sirius trailed off, expression strangely intense. 

“Yeah,” James shrugged. “Sometime about then. You?”

Sirius’ tongue ran out to wet his lips.

“Roughly at the same time.”

“Oh,” James had to fight the urge not to swallow, his throat suddenly strangely dry. “I see. Cool.” 

The look in Sirius’ eyes grew sharper before he looked away, glancing around the field.

James used his distraction to discreetly clear his throat, gaze straying back to the runes on the arch.

“I wonder how they made a portkey work like this…” he wondered out loud, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Sprout did say run in …”

Sirius turned back to him, expression thoughtful. “But portkeys don’t work without a touch, I know. It’s been bothering me too.”

James hummed, scratching at his head. “I doubt the Ministry has revolutionised portkey travel since we last heard about it. So…” he trailed off for a moment, thinking, before his eyes lit up with sudden understanding. “ Maybe, it’s in the ground.”

Sirius’ eyes widened ever so slightly. “The snow would cover it-”

“-and they could put the stones all the way around-”

“-and when we step on them-”

“-the portkey activates,” they finished in unison.

James beamed, practically vibrating with energy, Sirius mirroring his expression with his own unrestrained smile, before his eyes caught on the ribbon around James’ hand as he brought it up to push away hair from his face, and the smile faltered.

“Sirius-” James started before he could even figure out what he wanted to say, just knowing that he suddenly felt wrong, unbalanced, his throat constricting. 

He’d thought Sirius was just embarrassed before, but was it something more? Did he offend him somehow? James suddenly felt as if swallowed something bitter.

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said, blinking rapidly before shaking his head. “Just got lost in my head a little.”

“Everyone prepare!” Sprout urged, her voice carrying across the frozen field. James hesitated, glancing from her back to Sirius who readily met his gaze, eyes sharp with determination.

“Let’s win this thing,” he stated firmly and James nodded, finally feeling like he found his footing again.

“Get ready!” came Sprout’s voice again.

A shiver of excitement ran down James’ spine, as they settled into a running stance, the black band tying them together fluttering in the space between them.

Any moment now , James thought as he narrowed his eyes at the arch, lips tugging up, heart beating louder and louder in his chest. 

The air around them seemed to still.

Any moment.

The horn pierced the air.