"What's that on your face, Lily?" asked Snivellus suddenly. Her hand came up self-consciously in a feeble attempt to hide it.
"Oh, that," her lips curled back to an expression of distaste. "I was staying up late last night reading, and that little twerp Potter and his friends decided they’d have a little fun with me. This was Lupin, I believe,” she said, indicating her chin, which was shiny with synthetic drool.
“Permanent drool, eh? I know how to get that stuff off. Cissy and Bella did that to me once,” said Snape. He pointed his wand at her and whispered an incoherent spell. The slime on Lily’s chin vanished.
“Thanks, Sev,” she said, smiling at him. He grinned back, flushing slightly. James suppressed a groan from the luggage rack. If only he knew how to do nonverbal spells…oh, what he could do to Sev…
Lily was currently staring at Snape as he looked out the window. He stole a furtive glance at her, and they both flushed when their eyes met. James couldn’t take it any longer! He had to intervene. Pulling out his wand, he dropped to the floor, careful to land silently on his feet. Before he uttered a jinx, however, a foul odour began emitting from Snivellus’s back pocket. Of course! The Dungbombs were taking effect. He turned quickly to leave. Unfortunately, his invisibility cloak slipped off in the process, causing both Lily and Snape to jump.
“Potter,” hissed Snivellus.
“That’s my name,” James said, grinning.
“Not funny, Pothead,” said Lily. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “What is that smell?”
“What smell?” said James innocently, “Oh, you mean that smell. I believe it’s your boyfriend here. You see, he never learned to wash his--” James was cut off abruptly as he was pinned to the wall by Snape.
“You little-“
Snape’s insult, however, was cut short as the compartment door slid open once more. A tall, blond, sneering seventh year entered, smiling darkly.
“Oh, what have we here? Ickle second years…did Mummy never tell you not to fight? Well, it is not tolerated here on the Hogwarts Express.” On the last word, he pulled the two apart forcefully. “Severus, I congratulate you, however. Of all the people to be caught pinning up against a wall, that little twerp Potter is the best one. He and his little mates put pimple potion in my girlfriend’s drink recently. You have every reason to harm Potter. Carry on, but don’t let any of the other prefects see. I doubt they would be nearly as forgiving.” He turned to leave, a superior expression on his pale face.
“Leave, Potter, and don’t come back,” said Lily nastily, when the prefect had gone. James backed out into the corridor, hands in the air.
“Wait, before you go, I need to give you something, Pothead,” Lily said sweetly. James turned to her, grinning. She threw an expert punch at his face. Luckily, he dodged her fist at the last moment, or he would have had a most brilliant black eye.
“Good one, Evans, but not good enough. I could show you how, if you want,” James said, shaking a threatening fist at Snape.
“If you do, Potter, I think it’s only fair to warn you that I am very proficient at several curses. Sev’s been teaching me. He’s really very clever. You see, he’s even invented…” Lily stopped. Snape had sent her a warning look.
“Don’t, Lily,” he said quietly. James watched this little exchange with curiosity.
“I’ll find out what this is all about,” he said, stepping out into the corridor before anything else happened. He sprinted off to his own compartment, where Sirius and Peter were waiting with a large pile of sweets from the cart.
A half-hour later, they had consumed all the sweets and Peter was sprawled out on the seat, fast asleep. Sirius and James prodded him to make sure he was truly asleep, and then launched into an intent conversation about The Animal Project.
“Sirius, I just thought of something,” said James.
“Tell me,” Sirius said eagerly.
“My Grandpa Harold has a book about Animagi. I bet he’d let us borrow it.”
“Brilliant!” cried Sirius. “Oh, come to think of it, my mum is bound to have some sort of book about that too. She owns just about every book published by a Pureblood author. I’ll get that from her.”
“Bring it back after holiday,” James said.
“I will if I can, but knowing my mum, she’s bound to have some sort of charm on all her books. You need to bring yours. Owl me when you get it,” said Sirius.
“I will,” said James. The train was slowing, and it came to a stop at the familiar Platform. Sirius shot a jet of frigid water from his wand to wake Peter, who should have been used to that sort of thing by now, but still jumped, screaming, out of his seat. The three shoved their way down the corridor packed full of students eager to spend Christmas with their families.
“Don’t forget to ask your grandpa, James,” Sirius said, stepping off the train.
“I won’t. Good luck getting that book from your mum.”
“Thanks. I’ll need it. See you soon,” Sirius said. James’s mum and dad had spotted him and were frantically herding him toward them.
“Bye, mate!” James called as Sirius was swallowed up by the waiting crowd. Suddenly, he caught sight of Lily. She was craning her neck, looking for her family. Apparently, she saw them, and headed to a man with a long, thin neck and a comfortable looking lady with traces of Lily’s red hair among the grey. He noticed a girl of about fourteen with a scowl prominently fixed on her long features. Clearly, she did not want to be there, and was trying her best to become invisible. Her frown grew more pronounced as James’ dad sent a shower of purple sparks through the air, no doubt meant to summon his son. James pried his eyes away from Lily’s family reluctantly and went to his parents.
“James, dear!” his mother cried, smothering him in a bone-crushing hug.
“We’ve missed you, son!” said his father, clapping him rather hard on the back. James pasted a smile on his face.
“Good to see you too, Mum, Dad.” He tried to slip away form his mother’s grasp, but to no avail.
“James, dear, you seem a little preoccupied,” she said worriedly.
“It’s nothing, Mum,” James lied, taking hold of his father’s outstretched arm.
“Are you sure you want to do this, James? I mean, there’s always Muggle transportation. We could get a Runt-all car,” said Mr. Potter.
“Percival, dear, I think you mean a Runt-all cart,” said his mum.
“Of course that’s what I meant, Gwendolyn!” he said, exasperated.
“Mum, Dad, you’re both wrong. The proper term is a rental car, but I don’t think we’ll need one. Dad, you’re perfectly good at Apparition, and I don’t think you could even figure out how to work those things. We’d get arrested by the Muggle police. Please, let’s just go,” James said.
“James, how do you suddenly know so much about Muggles? You didn’t enrol in Muggle Studies while I wasn’t watching, did you, you naughty boy, you!”
“No, no, Mum, nothing of the sort. It’s just I have…well…a friend who’s a Muggle, and I wanted to do some research to…er, you know, make her feel more at home at Hogwarts,” he explained, glancing over at Lily’s family, who were utterly enthralled by something in a box Lily was holding.
“Help her feel at home, James? I see,” his father said knowingly, “and would she be that enchanting girl with the red hair you keep staring at?”
“Let’s just go,” James said, blushing. He gripped his dad’s wrist tightly and braced himself for the uncomfortable sensation of Apparition. The crowd disappeared as the Potters were pressed through the familiar black tunnel. To James’s great surprise, they landed in front of a Muggle house. He sent his father a questioning look.
“Heightened security,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Some mad idea of your mother’s. Apparently, there’s some sort of a dark wizard on the rise…Witch Weekly nonsense, you know.”
“Percival, I heard that!” said his mother. “James is only a child! Honestly, these things are not meant for his ears…” James and his father exchanged an annoyed sidelong glance.
All the lights in the Muggle house were out, so James assumed the Muggles were on holiday. The Potters walked casually up to the door and opened it by magic. James strode confidently through the house and into the parlour. To his surprise and horror, the Muggle family sat on a sofa, intently staring at a strange box with light and noise coming from it. A teevee, he remembered. Lily had mentioned it once. His parents came up behind him.
“Excuse us, just passing through,” said Mr Potter cheerfully as he walked to the fireplace and conjured a magical fire there. A Muggle man yelled in shock and whipped around to see three very strange people in long cloaks staring back at him.
“I’ll take care of this, Gwendolyn,” said his father, drawing his wand in a very business-like way. James cringed. He despised it when his parents treated Muggles like they were objects.
“Here, James dear,” said his mother, holding out a small pouch. James took a generous pinch of Floo Powder from her. He threw it into the blazing orange flames, turning them a familiar emerald green. “14, Gryffin’s Circle,” he shouted, stepping into the waiting fire. He heard the familiar spell”Obliviate!”before he spun rapidly, and after a few seconds, fell sputtering onto his own sitting room rug. He smiled broadly. Grandpa Harold was reclining in his favourite easy chair. A copy of The Daily Prophet obscured his face, but James wasn’t fooled. Sure enough, as he peeked around the newspaper, the current issue of Quidditch Illustrated lay open behind it.
“Your mother doesn’t approve,” Grandpa Harold said, smiling, “She thinks since I can’t be on a broomstick anymore I can’t read decent literature. Of course, in her opinion, the only things I should be reading are The Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly. Whole lot of codswallop, really.”
James grinned. “Hi, Grandpa.”
Grandpa looked at him shrewdly over his reading glasses. “Now, James, what is on your mind? You’ve been home for a whole thirty seconds and there hasn’t been a single practical joke,” he scolded, winking.
“Nothing, Grandpa,” James said quickly. His parents had appeared by now, and James didn’t dare let them overhear anything about The Animal Project.
Grandpa smiled and mouthed, “Later.” His eyes went back to the “newspaper.”
Later that evening, the Potters enjoyed a wonderful supper, courtesy of the three family house elves. The few bites James ate were delicious, though not quite like the Hogwarts feasts. Especially since his friends…and Lily…weren’t there to share it. Lately, though, Lily had taken to eating with Snivellus at the Slytherin table. James frowned, remembering. He wondered what he could possibly do to convince her to come back. The incident on the train certainly hadn’t helped matters.
After supper, James’s mum convinced his dad to go along with her on her final shopping trip before Christmas. His parents left in a flurry of winter gloves and scarves, leaving James free to talk with Grandpa Harold in private.
James walked into the parlour where his grandfather sat, asleep in his favourite armchair.
“They’re gone,” James said.
“They are? Ah, excellent. Talk to me, James,” said Grandpa, opening his eyes abruptly. James suppressed a laugh.
“Okay. But promise me you’ll do what I ask first,” he said.
“Ah, James, very clever. Something I might say. You’ve learned well. But I’m not making any promises until you tell me what this is all about.”
James groaned. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Well…it’s about…erm…”
“Spit it out already, son,” said Grandpa.
“It’s about Animagi,” James said quickly.
“Animagi, eh?” said the old man, his eyes lighting up at the thought. “Now what do you know about Animagi?”
“Nothing, really,” said James. “But I was kind of hoping you’d teach me.”
“Teach you? What makes you think I know anything about the subject?”
“Well, I saw this book in your room one day about it. I just thought…well, that you could tell me about it.”
“Oh, I can do more than just tell you about it,” Grandpa Harold said, glancing around furtively. Suddenly, there wasn’t a man sitting in the chair. It was a large elk with magnificent antlers and markings on his nose that closely resembled reading glasses. James gaped.