Bluebells cauldron
07.10.1975
James wished he had slipped on that banana peel this morning that Peter had dropped as they were walking.
The day would have been never different, and how today went, it only could’ve been better.
With the other three Marauders, James made his way to the potion's lab.
Breakfast had been fun, he and Sirius laughed so hard, his ribs still hurt. James had asked Lily for a spare Quill, he hadn’t said Lily though, he said “Bluebell”.
You see, James has gotten into the habit of calling her different flower names.
So, this morning when, he asked: “Um, Bluebell, you wouldn’t have a spare Quill for me would you?”
Lily looked up from her breakfast, and deadpanned as she said:
“Jambolise, anything for you, take my Quill kind sir.”
James, who had been enjoying some pumpkin juice, was caught off guard by the name.
Poor Peter.
James had spit it out into his face, by accident.
Sirius, who was already laughing, was now positively screaming out of laughter. James was laughing and choking at the same time, he was turning a deep shade of red.
Peter just whined.
The sound came out like a little squeal, that is when all composure was lost.
Sirius and James, who were clinging onto each other for dear life, trying not to fall off the bench, completely lost it and landed very ungracefully on the cold, hard Great Hall floor.
Remus got himself under control first and quickly cast a cleaning charm on Peter.
He smiled softly as they walked, thinking back.
Just like the temperature sank on the way deep into the dungeons, so did James’s mood.
He wasn’t that bad at potions he just needed to concentrate, but just like with cooking he often got distracted, forgot if had just put in an ingredient or not, or his brain would sabotage him, by him reading “32” petal leaves, but it ended up being “23” which was detrimental to the delicate art that was potions.
They arrived at the labs doors, James ran ahead and held the door open for the Marauders, he stepped in last.
James normally sat next to Sirius, but recently Sirius chose to sit next to Remus. Peter sat with a Gryffindor girl whom James forgot the name of.
That left a seat next to Lily. He took it. She smelled of Pomegranate and was humming along to “SOS” - ABBA, while finishing up notes. “The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, SOS” he sang as he sat himself down. She looked up and smiled: “Hi, James”.
“Hi, Daffodil”, he said. She rolled her eyes, but laughed a little out loud, replaying the events of this morning's breakfast in er mind.
While unpacking his bag, he noticed the younger Black brother enter the classroom. He held his head low and walked in after Rosier.
James met Regulus’s eyes, by accident.
Regulus rolled his eyes and sat down. Huh. Ok.
James looked away.
Professor Slughorn entered the lab.
Blah, Blah, Blah, do this, do that.
James, having become bored and frustrated with his own work, looked around the lab.
His eyes for the second time that day landed on the younger Black brother.
They stayed there for a while.
James tilted his head slightly.
He has seen people brew before, obviously. It never interested him, he normally never gave anyone else more than a glance when they were brewing.
But when Regulus was brewing, it looked like art. His movements were the definition of perfect. It looked absolutely effortless. It was all so graceful it looked like brewing was a part of him, like it was what he was born to do.
James admired and envied him for how concentrated he looked, like he blocked out the world while brewing.
When James did that, or tried to, almost always something exploded. He looked back to his workspace, but he did not miss Mulciber, who was sitting next to Snape, putting something into Lily’s cauldron.
James furrowed his brow.
Huh?
The realization grew on him, and the potion quickly began to turn from a light purple to a threatening dark red. As it began to grow in size, James helped out.
Professor Slughorn came to his workspace and saw Lily's potion, he gasped and quickly vanished it. Then he began to integrate Lily, asking what she was thinking and how she could make such a mistake. James interrupted them, he could see
Lily’s eyes beginning to shimmer.
"Professor! It wasn’t Lily’s fault. Mulciber put something into her cauldron, sir! You have to believe me!”
“Nonsense, Mr. Potter, my snakes would never. How could a troublemaker like yourself, say something like that, accusing Mr. Mulciber of something that serious? 5 points from Gryffindor, for lying to a Professor, Mr. Potter. And another 10 points from Gryffindor and detention for Mrs. Evans. See me after class, both of you!” Slughorn said, as he turned around and went back to his desk.
James in all honesty was speechless.
What had just happened?
He didn’t stay speechless for long. James Potter was not a silent boy.
His silence quickly turned into rage.
You may not believe this, but he is so angry all the time. Most days, in most situations he could hide it, suppress the rage.
That does not change the fact that he feels it.
He is truly terrified of blowing up on the people he loves.
They don’t deserve this.
They didn’t do anything.
So, he doesn't lash out. He stays as quiet as he can.
He knows the day will come, he will do the wrong thing because of how he truly feels, and they will leave. He knows he should be enough and don’t depend on others for happiness, but his friends make life meaningful and worth living, in his opinion.
It may not be the healthiest thing, but currently that’s his situation. Oh, ha. But this does not mean he feels loved, appreciated or cared for by his friends when he sees them.
He knows they do. He can just never be truly sure.
His inner monologue won’t let the rational voices, the voices of reason, come to the microphone.
He overanalyzes everything. Every look they give him, every reaction and lack thereof in some situations. He sees things that he’s not sure others pick up on. He really doesn't know. It’s not their fault, though. He has the most amazing friends.
But he has also lost some incredible people, because he told himself he was not enough, so loudly he couldn’t manage seeing them. He just became overwhelmed and wanted the world to forget him. He tried to tell them this. It’s just, his mind is chaos. There are no rules, no instructions, no strategy, it’s every thought for themselves.
Which does not help. It does not help in the situation where a friend is genuinely worried and genuinely wants to help you, but every word you say out of your mouth sounds pathetic, wrong and disorganized. I know you are-were- there for me. It was not your fault.
My own demos consumed me, during that time, they had no mercy you see. I don’t want to doubt myself all the time. I don’t want to be so frustratingly different.
I want to say so many things.
It would help if I could speak my feelings the way I can compose them in writing.
I can’t.
I have too many things in my head. I say things the way I don’t want them said, which leads to misunderstandings. I just know I’m sorry for being like this. It’s not a choice. I don’t enjoy being like this.
He heard chuckling, he looked up and saw Snape's smug face, Mulciber laughed alongside him.
Thus, something in James snapped.
He lashed out, grabbed Mulciber by the collar and pushed him up against the wall.
Mulciber pushed back.
“Fuck me”, Mulciber said through gritted teeth, spitting in James’s face as he did so, after James had just nocked this head against the stone wall.
James paused, tilted his head and said: “Yeah, when?”, with a smug look on his face, his arrogance really came out that moment.
That comment was the final straw for Mulicber, he swung first.
James ducked, though he wasn’t quite fast enough, the blow landed on his jawline.
James was about to retaliate when he felt strong hands hold him back. It’s Remus.
“Detention!”, Professor Slughorn bellows.
James groaned, out of pain and frustration.