Chapter 4
For the first time in his life–but not the last–James Potter was woken up by screaming.
His wand immediately in his hand, he lit it non-verbally, shoving his glasses onto his face as he sprung to his feet, sleep blurring his vision. He saw Remus struggling with his blankets on the bed beside him, while Sirius was still pushing himself up, his wand raised.
It took him another second to figure out where the yelling was coming from.
Alexander McKinnon’s bed was next to one of the two windows in their dorm, which meant he always slept with his curtains pulled tight against the light of the moon outside. The curtains were still drawn as James approached, the other members of their dorm fanning out behind him.
With a muttered spell, the curtains flew open, revealing Alex’s writhing form, still shouting as if he was being murdered. James jumped forward, shoving his wand in his pajama pocket, and pressed down on Alex’s shoulders.
“McKinnon!” He shouted, shaking the other boy. “Wake up, it’s just a dream!”
He felt, rather than saw, Remus running some kind of diagnostic charm on them. Alex’s screaming eased as James shook his shoulders, until his eyes blinked open, and he surveyed the boys standing around him with a startled shout.
It wasn’t until then that James noticed the scratches.
His face was covered in thin lines, slowly seeping blood. His pajamas were ripped in places, and James saw more scratches underneath. When he saw the blood underneath Alex's nails, James began to feel sick.
“What happened?” Alex asked, blearily, still looking at the rest of the room with a strange kind of fear. “Why do I…?” He looked at his fingers, the blood under his nails, and began to breathe unnaturally fast. “What happened?” He repeated, his voice lower.
“We… We don’t know. You were screaming, and when we got to you, you… It’s like you couldn’t wake up. You were scratching yourself and…” James trailed off.
“Mate, you’re covered in marks,” Sirius said, gently. “Must have been a hell of a dream.”
Alex shook his head. “I don’t really remember it. I was just… I was covered in something. I don’t know. And I…” He looked down at his ruined pajamas and injured arms. “Can someone help me fix this?”
All of the Marauders were unusually adept in healing charms, thanks to Remus’s condition, and they all began muttering spells under their breath. Caradoc took the time to repair Alex’s pajamas, while the boy in question just sat in a stunned kind of silence.
A few minutes later, it might have never happened. If it weren’t for the six exhausted boys staring at each other in the middle of the night.
“You should go to the Hospital Wing,” Remus said, sympathy written all over his face.
“I’m fine now,” Alex said, rubbing his arms. “Right?”
James shrugged. “This isn’t normal, McKinnon. Pomfrey should make sure you’re okay.”
“I… I’ll go tomorrow. I’m not getting in trouble for being out after hours.”
Remus checked his watch, then shrugged. “It’s nearly morning, anyway. I’ll go with you. We’ll be fine.” Ignoring Alex’s weak arguments, the two boys swiftly left the room, leaving the rest of them to move, hesitantly, back to their own beds.
And while all of them pretended carefully, not one of them slept for the rest of the night.
***
They didn’t see Alex again for the rest of the day and the next night, which meant Madame Pomfrey had obviously found some cause to keep him under observation. Privately, James thought it was for the best. No one should be able to sleep through scratching themself into ribbons.
The Hogwarts rumor mill clearly didn’t work as well as it used to, because Marlene and Robin didn’t corner him until the day after.
“Doc is saying Alex had to go to the Hospital Wing,” Robin said, sounding more curious than concerned. “What happened?”
“Ask him yourself,” James shrugged. “McKinnon, not Dearborn.”
“Pomfrey’s not letting anyone see him,” Marlene supplied, looking tired. “We already tried that.”
“Look, I don’t know what happened. He just woke up screaming, covered in scratches, and we took him to the Hospital Wing. I don’t know anything else.” The girls shared a look that James didn’t understand. “What?” He asked. “What do you know?”
“Nothing,” Marlene shrugged. “Just… I guess no one’s been sleeping well. The girls’ dorm has been swapping nightmare stories every night. It’s odd, that’s all.”
It was odd. He thought back. James hardly ever remembered his dreams, and the last few nights were no exception. He knew both Remus and Sirius had struggled with bad dreams for years, it was commonplace enough that he hadn’t thought to ask about it.
“What do you think is happening?” He asked them, and Robin just shrugged.
“Nothing,” Marlene said, “it’s just… Hogwarts doesn’t really feel like Hogwarts this year, does it?”
***
Professor Kettleburn had one arm, one leg, and absolutely no interest in the education of young wizards. It was almost impressive how little he cared, instead using most of their Care of Magical Creatures lessons to study whatever animals he was currently researching, and impart a few distracted facts along the way.
Needless to say, it was one of James’s favourite classes. Especially after the week he’d had, there was substantial relief in an easy class taking up his Friday afternoon. The weather was nice, the niffler that Professor Kettleburn was sketching was chirping merrily, and the class was mostly distracted by their own side conversations.
“It’s not going to pass,” Marlene was saying to Lily, in an encouraging voice, as they flipped through the pages of their textbooks. “Seriously. It’s pureblood lobbyists pushing their weight, the Committee for Wizarding Education would never pass something like that.”
“I know,” Lily sighed, closing her eyes to let the sunlight shine on her face. James could have looked at her all day. “I know. But it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”
The Muggleborn Fairness Act was one of the most poorly named pieces of legislation in wizarding history. It would limit the number of muggleborns admitted into Hogwarts each year, to ensure the ‘fairness of education opportunities between wizarding and non-wizarding families.’ Which was bullshit. Not even considering the fact that a family containing a muggleborn was a wizarding family. The addition of Lily Evans to Hogwarts’s student body hadn’t taken away any opportunities from James, except the opportunity to make it through Hogwarts without embarrassing himself regularly.
The issue with Care of Magical Creatures being known as an easy class was that those looking for an easy class would undoubtedly take it. Which meant across the clearing from the Gryffindors, several Slytherins looked on, snickering with each other.
“Worried, are you, Evans?” Lucretia Nettlebed called out, seemingly unashamed to be discovered eavesdropping on their conversation. “You think they might finally figure out you’re not really a witch?”
Lily said nothing. Her knight in shining armor Snivellus wasn’t here, no doubt considering anything other than torturing magical creatures beneath him. Marlene shot Lucretia a nasty look and glanced at Professor Kettleburn, who was predictably ignoring them.
“She’s right, Evans,” Mulciber chimed in, and James drew closer to the confrontation, Peter in tow. “I’ll take good care of your wand if it’s snapped in front of you.”
“Fuck off, Mulciber.” Lily said, primly.
“Language, Miss Evans. Five points from Gryffindor.” Kettleburn called over to them, looking irritated. James gritted his teeth in frustration.
“Sorry, Professor,” Lily intoned, not looking very sorry at all.
“They were promoting the Muggleborn Fairness Act,” James retorted, glaring at Mulciber and the other Slytherins. “Anyone who promotes that piece of tosh deserves to be told to fuck off.”
“Another five points, Mr. Potter,” Kettleburn said, straightening up and moving to stand between them. “Does this look like a History of Magic class?”
“No, Professor,” James muttered, after a long staring contest between them.
“Exactly. So I hardly see why we’re discussing politics in my lessons.”
Lily slumped slightly, and Marlene whispered something James couldn’t hear in her ear.
“It’s not really history though, is it?” James asked, ignoring the world-weary sigh of Peter Pettigrew behind him. “It’s happening now. It affects people now. Why shouldn’t we be able to talk about it?”
“Because this is a Care of Magical Creatures class, Mr. Potter. Now, if anyone has any questions regarding the course material, I would be happy to answer them.” Kettleburn looked out at the crowd, clearly not expecting anyone to jump in.
“I have a question,” Lucretia said, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Are there any magical creatures that detect proper magical blood? That way, when the bill passes, we’ll have an easier time rooting out pretenders like Evans.”
James took a step forward, his wand out, but Peter grabbed his elbow.
“Let go, Pete,” James muttered.
“It’s a class, James. What are you going to do, hex her?” Peter whispered, quickly.
“I might,” he retorted, “if she keeps saying that shit about Evans.”
“Has Evans asked you to do that?” Peter argued. “Because it looks to me like she’d like everyone to just fucking drop it.”
James looked over at Lily. Her face was unreadable, as she surveyed the scene around her. She didn’t look angry. She just looked tired.
Slowly, James stepped back, ignoring the response that Kettleburn gave, presumably something along the lines of ‘Obviously there wasn’t an animal like that, you stupid git.’ Then Amycus Carrow jumped in.
“What about a creature that can smell dirt? That would work on their blood, wouldn’t it?” His voice was almost shrill with delight. And, when he looked at James’s raised wand, he was nothing short of triumphant. “Going to hex me, Potter? For your little girlfriend? Do your worst.”
James’s wand was out of his hand in a heartbeat, along with the Slytherins who had raised theirs. Professor Kettleburn held the niffler in one arm, and held his wand aloft with the other, looking murderous.
“Detention. Potter, Carrow. I’ll be reporting this to your Heads of House immediately.”
James didn’t lower his eyes from Carrow’s once. He didn’t need a wand to punch him into the ground. Peter must have sensed that because he was the one who spoke next.
“I have a question, Professor.” He asked, drawing the attention of the fractured class. Professor Kettleburn waited for a moment, then sighed.
“Yes, Mr. Pettigrew?”
“Are you a child of divorce?”
***
“So you both have detention already?” Remus asked as Sirius guffawed behind him.
“Half the class does,” Peter answered, sounding pleased with himself. “Enough of us were laughing at him that it didn’t really matter who started it.”
“It sounds like you started it,” Sirius offered, still smirking. “I wish I could have seen Kettleburn’s face.”
“He looked like he was going to explode,” James confirmed, shaking his head in amusement. After he’d gotten over his own anger, he’d had to admit that Peter had played it well. No one had ended up hexed or punched, which was probably for the best. For now.
Lily, who had been lumped in with the troublemakers thanks to her initial comment, had been none too pleased to receive detention. Even less so when she’d had to explain that she needed it at a different time, given she had her prefect patrols on Monday evenings. This meant they all now had detention on Sunday night, which meant James was missing the first quidditch practice of the season, something that was deemed “not important” by both Kettleburn and Lily.
Needless to say, he was annoyed. And the glare she shot at them when she entered the Common Room didn’t help.
“Need something, Evans?” He asked, a hard edge to his voice. He didn’t miss the way Sirius and Peter made eye contact, while Remus just sighed.
“My Sunday night back, thanks,” she retorted, sitting at one of the tables by the fire and unpacking her bags.
“You’re the reason we’re in detention as much as anyone, you know?” He said, kicking his feet up on the sofa. “No reason to be snippy about it.”
“I’m the reason?” Lily asked, standing up again. “I’m the reason?” She sounded annoyed, but her voice was lacking that usual Lily Evans fury. And the self-destructive part of him wanted to hear it.
“Yeah, you’re the reason,” he said, sitting up, and then pushing himself to his feet. “You’re the one who told Mulciber to fuck off if I remember correctly.”
“And you’re the one who did the exact same thing two seconds later if I remember correctly.” She mimicked him, crudely. “I didn’t threaten to hex anyone.” She eyed Peter. “Nor did I insult the Professor.”
“I didn’t insult him!” Peter muttered. “It was a valid question.”
“Don’t blame him,” James argued, taking a step forward as she did the same. “Pete’s probably the only reason it didn’t turn into a full-on brawl.”
“That’s funny,” she said, not sounding amused in the slightest, “because I think you’re the only reason it was in danger of being one.”
“What, you want me to just stand around when some Slytherin accuses you of having dirty blood?”
“You see, that’s the problem with you, Potter.” She shook her head and began to shove her things back into her back. “What does it matter that they were Slytherins?”
“What do you mean, what does it matter? How am I the only one annoyed here?” He knew he was making a scene, but didn’t feel much like caring.
“The issue is what they said, not what house they’re in. And until you can figure that out, you’re just the same as them.”
“Hey,” Sirius entered the conversation on James’s right, “you can fuck right off with that, Evans.”
“This doesn’t concern you, Black,” she snapped, slinging her bag onto her shoulder hard enough to bruise. “In fact, none of this concerns any of you. If Potter could have kept his mouth shut, for once, I wouldn’t have to be in detention on the first Sunday of the year, when I have a mountain of things I should be doing instead. Now,” she pushed past them, back towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, “if you’ll excuse me, I’m going anywhere that isn’t here.”