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And All That Jazz by ShieldSnitch3
Chapter 3 : Explosions, Curses, And All That Jazz
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 18

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totally gah-worthy chapter image by shudder @ tda

Explosions, Curses, And All That Jazz

The next thing I know, I’m waking up in a comfortable four poster bed. Three pairs of eyes stare down at me - two brown, one blue.

Holy crap, where am I?

I’m certainly not in Kansas anymore.

My heart pumps in my chest, my palms sweat, and I start hyperventilating. Just a minor Aria freak out.

Then I remember.

I’m at Hogwarts.

Stupid Hogwarts.

Almost made me had a heart attack.

Everything comes flooding back - Dominique, Rose, Lily, the Hogwarts Express, the lunch-less lunch cart, Albus, Louis, Quidditch captainship, and him.

And by him of course I mean... him.

“Who are you?” asks one of the pairs of eyes, the blue ones.

I sit upright and blink the blurriness out of my eyes. “I’m Aria Fields, I’m new this year,” I say for what must be the ten millionth time, pointing to my trunk. Seriously, aren’t Ravenclaws supposed to be the smart ones?

“Oh.” The blue eyes blink. “I’m Gabrielle Ancrum.” She brushes a strand of brown hair out of her eyes.

“Hi,” I say awkwardly.

“I’m Mia McCubbin,” says the first pair of brown eyes.

The last set of brown eyes twirls her long, auburn hair and then fiddles with her prefect badge. “I’m Sophie Fincher,” she announces after she’s fixed the badge. “It’s nice to meet you Aria, and I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m afraid I have to leave. I’m starving, it’s breakfast time, and there are first years to be herded around.”

“Oh, crap, it’s breakfast time!” I practically screech. “I’m supposed to meet Albus and Louis!” I may be groggy, but I haven’t forgotten that Louis is a slightly impatient boy.

All three sets of eyes widen immediately, with Sophie’s practically bugging out of her head. “You’re friends with Albus and Louis?”

I’m not sure if I should be offended by her tone or not.

“Yeah,” I answer slowly.

“But - but - they’re... Wotters,” she says in awe.

Wotters? What the hell is a Wotter?

“I mean Fred, Albus, Louis, and Dom are some of the most popular kids in school. If you hang out with one of them, you hang out with all of them. Including,” she flushes slightly, “James.”

The other two start to giggle at the mention of his name.

Oh, wait! I’ve just figured out what a Wotter is! 10 points to Aria.

Weasley-Potters. Duh. Mental slap.

“He’s so gorgeous,” says Gabrielle, still giggling.

“I may be friends with Albus and Louis, but I’m definitely not hanging around with James. Speaking of Al and Lou, I’ve gotta go.”

I dive into my trunk and search for my robes before realizing that I fell asleep in them last night. After grabbing my wand off of my night stand, I point it at my head and mutter “Scourgify,” and hop out of bed.

“Nice to meet you all, and I’m sure that we’ll be spending lots of quality time together this year,” I say sincerely. “But now is not that time. I need to run.” And with that, I exit the dormitory at top speed, racing down to the common room.

Albus and Louis are already waiting for me downstairs, Louis tapping his foot anxiously. I shoot them my signature ‘I’m so cute and innocent, why are you looking at me like that?’ smile, but it doesn’t appear to work.

“Come on, you,” says Albus.

We depart from the common room and the boys lead me through a maze of passages and staircases. I pay more attention than I did last night, but still find myself hopelessly lost.

After what seems like ages, we arrive in the Great Hall. As we head to the Ravenclaw table an owl swoops directly over my head, and I glance up, startled. But what’s even more startling than the seemingly random owls flying in and out of our dining area is the ceiling.

“It’s not real, the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the sky. You can read about it in Hogwarts, A History,” Rose says as she brushes past us on her way to the Gryffindor table.

“She really loves that book, doesn’t she?” I ask Albus and Louis.

“Oh, yeah,” Louis replies. “She practically sleeps with the thing.”

We sit down at the table and I feel my mouth start to water at the sight of all the food. I have just assembled my breakfast and am bringing my first spoonful up to my mouth when Dominique bounces over to our table.

“Hi, hi!” She sits down next to me and pulls a piece of paper out of her robe pocket with a flourish. “I’ve just gotten my schedule. What about you, Aria?”

“Erm, not yet Dominique but I -”

“Aria Fields! From now on you will refer to me as Dom. That’s what all my friends call me.”

“Yeah, and everyone else calls her Dumb Dom,” Louis mumbles.

“Shut up, Louis! Just because I’m not a stuck-up, snobbish know-it-all in Ravenclaw -”

“Ms. Weasley, shouldn’t you be sitting at the Slytherin table?” Professor Chang demands with an icy glare, suddenly appearing behind Louis.

“I - um -” Dom looks to be at a loss for words. “I was just, uh -”

“You were just what? Insulting my house? Is that correct, Ms. Weasley?”

Dom’s mouth gapes open. “I’m gonna go,” she stammers out, practically sprinting back to the Slytherin table.

“How she is related to you two boys, I’ll never know,” says Professor Chang with a sigh. “Ms. Fields, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, your schedules.” She hands us each a sheet of parchment like Dom’s, then continues on down the table.

I glance down at the paper. Today’s a Thursday which means I’ve got Charms first, followed by Potions, a free period, and lunch. After that I’ve got double Transfiguration and then Muggle Studies. Seems like a pretty decent way to start the year.

“Oh no, I’ve got double History of Magic first,” moans Louis. “I’m going to die of boredom and wake up a ghost like Professor Binns!”

“Always the drama queen, Lou,” snickers Albus.

“Don’t laugh, Al. You’ve got it first, too!”

Albus stares down at his schedule in horror. “For the love of Merlin, somebody please Avada Kedavra me right now. Where’s Voldemort when you need him?”

“Always the drama queen, Al,” Louis says mockingly.

I start to laugh when suddenly a loud boom rattles throughout the Great Hall and, for some inexplicable reason, my pumpkin juice explodes out of my goblet in an orange tidal wave that drenches me in stickiness.

“Looks like you’ve got a little mess there, new girl,” James says, sliding onto the bench next to me as he puts his wand away.

Gee, I wonder who exploded my pumpkin juice.

He sticks out a finger and drags it across my cheek before putting it into his mouth. “Mmm. Pumpkin juice. Is that your schedule? Lemme see.” He grabs the schedule out of my hand, skimming over it with his eyes. “Oh boy, looks like we’ve got class together all day! Won’t that be fun!”

What. The hell.

“Oh no, you’ve still got some pumpkin juice left in your goblet,” James says with feigned worry before picking up the cup and dumping the rest of the juice over my head.

That does it.

“Potter!” I scream.

The entire Great Hall turns to look at us and I whip out my wand, aiming it straight at his chest. James’s eyes widen in shock, as he clearly was not expecting this reaction. He scurries backwards over the bench and starts backing away slowly, raising his arms in the universal sign of surrender.

But that’s not going to save him.

“Melofors!” I screech. The jinx is sent in a blast of light out of my wand, but James ducks and the spell goes flying over his head.

Somehow he manages to pull out his wand and yells, “Protego!”

I don’t care, I just fire off every jinx and hex I can think of. The spells ricochet off of his shield, flying off in different directions around the hall, while various students scream and duck for cover.

“Expelliarmus!” From out of nowhere a professor appears and my wand goes shooting out of my hand. “That is enough! You two, follow me, right now!” He grabs my wand and we tramp miserably out of the Great Hall, leaving it in petrified silence.

As soon as we exit through the huge double doors he turns to James. “Wand,” he says, holding out his hand.

James reluctantly passes his wand over and the professor leads us onward, marching through the twists and turns of Hogwarts. James and I trail behind, looking at the floor, keeping as far as possible from each other. The professor finally stops in front of an ugly stone gargoyle and says, “Peppermint Toad.”

The gargoyle spins around and a stone staircase is revealed. We climb the steps quickly and find ourselves in a small atrium. “Sit,” he commands.

We sit.

He goes through a door, shutting it behind him. James and I sit in silence. I refuse to look at him, though I feel his gaze scorching into my body. A few minutes later, the professor returns and says simply, “The Headmaster will see you now.”

Oh, crap.

James and I stand up and go through the door, which leads to a large circular room with portraits covering every free inch of wall. Tables are scattered everywhere, enveloped with Quidditch memorabilia and stacks of Daily Prophets.

Professor Parkes is seated behind a huge mahogany desk, a very stern look crossing over his normally jovial features. “Mr. Potter, Ms. Fields. Please, have a seat.”

James and I sit down in the two chairs waiting for us in front of the desk. Professor Parkes studies James first, then looks curiously over at me. “Ms. Fields, is that... pumpkin juice?”

James tries to stifle a snort.

He fails.

God, I wish I had my wand.

“Professor Spencer has informed me of your - ahem - activities in the Great Hall this morning. I believe it goes without saying that this type of behavior will not be tolerated. Therefore, you will both report to the caretaker’s office tonight at 9 P.M. sharp to serve your detentions.”

“That’s it?” James asks incredulously.

What does he mean, ‘that’s it?’ It’s a freaking detention!

“Yes, Mr. Potter, that’s it.”

“You mean you won’t be writing our parents?” James asks, sounding slightly disappointed.

“No, Mr. Potter, I won’t. I’m going to cut you a bit of slack seeing as it’s the very first day of term.”

“Damn,” James begins, and Professor Parkes gives him an eyebrow raise. “I mean, darn,” James corrects. “I was hoping to beat last year’s record.”

“And what would that be?”

“Three days to an owl home. Well, I’ve still got time, I guess. I mean, it wasn’t one of my better pranks, just kind of a spur of the moment thing...”

“Mr. Potter, you may go. Ah! Not so fast, Ms. Fields.”

I frown dejectedly and sit back down. James, meanwhile, exits the room.

“Aria,” Professor Parkes says softly. “I am very disappointed in you. I expect more out of my students, especially you.”

“But Professor, James provoked me!”

I can’t help it. I have to say something.

“Aria, you and I both know that whatever James does, it’s no excuse to send curses flying all over the Great Hall! You’re lucky no one was hurt or else I sure as hell wouldn’t be able to let you off with only a detention!”

I feel my face start to burn as I realize that he’s right.

I hate it when he’s right.

“In the future, whatever James does to you - and I’m sure he will do plenty more - you must not lose your temper. You’ve got that Veela blood in you, and it can be a very dangerous fire to play with. You must be the bigger person. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, the next time you write your father, would you let him know that I’d like a Quidditch rematch? And this time, no cheating,” he says, a playful smile dancing across his face.

Ah, that’s the Wesley I know. Good to have you back.

“Will do, Professor,” I say with a mock salute.

“All right, out you go. Oh, and Aria, make sure that James gets his wand back,” he says, handing me our wands.

I exit the office, walk through the atrium, and go back down the stairs. And much to my chagrin, James is waiting for me.

So, I throw his wand at him and proceed to stomp off down the corridor.

I hope it pokes him in the eye.


“New girl, wait!”

I don’t respond, but his footsteps follow me. He breaks into a jog, but I simply walk faster.


I still don’t respond.

“Aria, would you please just stop and wait for me?”

I stop dead in my tracks.

He used my name.

“Why should I wait?” I call back uncertainly.

“Because you’re heading in the wrong direction for Charms, you’re new and have no clue how to get about the castle, or because I need to talk to you. Choose your favorite.”

Well, he does have a point. I have absolutely no idea where the hell I am in this bloody place.

“Fine. What do you want?” I say impatiently after he catches up to me.

I feel my body stiffen immediately as I turn to face him, as he’s pointing his wand directly at me.

“Oh, relax. I’m not going to curse you. Scourgify,” he mutters.

Suddenly, I’m clean again. To be honest, I had completely forgotten about the pumpkin juice that was covering my entire body. Funny how getting detention does that to a person.

“You’re welcome,” he says pointedly.

I respond, as any mature person would, by glaring at him.

“Fine!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “I was going to apologize, but whatever!”

James turns around and heads back in the direction we just came from. “Charms is this way,” I hear him mumble.

I really don’t want to follow him, but I guess I have no choice.

The whole way to Charms, James walks five feet in front of me. We don’t talk, we don’t acknowledge each other’s presence. There might as well be five miles between us.

Eventually, he turns off into a classroom on the left hand side of a corridor. We appear to be early to class, as several students are milling around, waiting for the lesson to begin.

Dom quickly waves me over from a seat on the right side of the classroom.

“What was that?” she practically hisses at me. I guess she really does belong in Slytherin.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I answer in a low voice.

She reaches into her school bag - crap! I forgot my books!

“Dom, I don’t have my things for class,” I whisper frantically.

She rolls her eyes. “Chill. Albus got your bag for you from Ravenclaw Tower.” She reaches on the other side of her chair and pulls up my bag.

“Thank God for Albus Potter,” I say as I take the bag.

“Yeah, really. Without Al you’d be screwed.” Dom returns to her bag, pulling out the same Witch Weekly she was reading yesterday on the train. She flips it open to the middle and begins to fill out a quiz entitled “Which Quidditch position does your dream man play?”

I roll my eyes and gaze around the class room. On the opposite side of the room I spy James, Connor, Fred, and Jett surrounded by a group of admirers, who are all flicking their hair and batting their eyelashes shamelessly.

“What twits,” I comment to no one in particular.

“Hm?” Dom looks up and follows my gaze. “Ah, yes. James and his many followers. ‘Oh my God, it’s James Potter. Oh my God, he’s so cute. Oh my God, look at his body. Oh my God!’ OH MY GOD! Do you know how annoying it is to be related to James Freaking Potter?”

“What about the other three? Don’t they have fan girls as well?”

“Yeah, but none of them have as many as James. Jett’s probably a close second though.” Dom looks bored and goes back to her quiz.

I, however, sit and observe the goings on across the room. Unlike at the carriage line, James and Co. are brazenly soaking up the attention. Even from here I can tell that they’re flirting with every single girl over there.

James is chatting with a blonde stick of a girl. He takes one of her quills and starts tickling her with it. “Oh my Gawd, stop it James,” she says in a loud, obnoxious voice, playfully smacking him on the chest.

He laughs and sets the quill down, then turns away. For a second, I could swear that I saw his eyes dart over here - no, I must be seeing things.

I shift my attention to Connor and Fred, who are attempting to juggle ink bottles. That’s not going to end well - wait, there it is again.

From the corner of my eye I see James look over in my direction.

What the hell is his problem?

I decide that it doesn’t matter anyway. In fact, I’d much rather be reading Witch Weekly than watch the disgusting pig show going on across the classroom. I glance back over at Dom, who seems to have finished her quiz and circled “Beater” as her man’s position. I don’t even want to know.

Luckily, Professor Abberly decides to stroll into the room. “Good morning, class,” he says loudly.

“Good morning, Professor,” all the students chant back.

And so school has begun.

Professor Abberly dismisses us and all of the students dash for the door. Dom and I hang back, comparing schedules.

“Oh, you’ve got Potions next? Lucky,” she complains. “I’ve got Divination. Don’t even know why I bother taking that stupid class.”

As we wait for the line to file out, she fills me in on the directions to the dungeons (as if Potions wasn’t already depressing enough).

We make it out of the classroom and go our separate ways. After several minutes of following Dom’s complicated directions, I triumphantly make it to the Potions dungeon. 10 more points to Aria.

I look around anxiously, hoping to see someone in my limited circle of acquaintances. Everyone appears to be standing around the outside of the classroom, away from the two person lab tables. I guess that means we don’t get to pick our Potions partners.

I notice Sophie Fincher waving at me anxiously and head over to meet her.

“So, what was that in the Great Hall this morning?” she asks.

“I -” I begin, but am cut off by the arrival of the Potions Master.

God dammit. That’s just my luck. It’s Professor What’s-his-face that dragged James and I off to the Headmaster’s office this morning.


“Hello, class. Welcome to Potions. I am Professor Spencer, as I suspect all of you already know,” he drones.

Spencer, that was his name.

“I will now be assigning partners. These will be your partners for the rest of the term, so I strongly recommend that you get along. To make things fair, I’ll be drawing names from a hat.” He reaches to the side and grabs the hat.

And yes, this one is ugly, too.

They really have a thing for ugly hats here.

After pairing up about half the class, Professor Spencer reaches once more into the hat and draws another name. “James Potter,” he announces.

All of the remaining girls start to flutter nervously, primping their hair and crossing their fingers.

James crosses the classroom and sits down at his desk as Professor Spencer reaches another hand into the hat.

“Sophie Fincher,” he calls out.

I breathe a sigh of relief. At least one thing is going right today. Sophie has a huge grin plastered across her face as she walks over to sit next to James.

Four more names are drawn, and I still have not been picked. Professor Spencer reaches back down into the hat and reads, “Jett Nolton.”

Just as with James, the girls begin to mobilize. Professor Spencer unfolds the new slip of paper in his hand.

“Aria Fields.”

Oh. Didn’t see that one coming. I guess being partnered with Jett won’t be too terrible. I mean if Rose Weasley has a crush on him he must be a pretty good guy... Yeah, this won’t be so bad.

I make my way over to my seat and sit down next to Jett, who grins wickedly at me. “I hope you’re as good at potions as you are at hexes,” he whispers.

James turns around from the table in front of us and holds out his hand for a high-five. Jett slaps it, and they both do some weird secret handshake.

Dammit! I just realized that James is sitting in front of me. Of course, out of all the possible tables I could’ve been assigned to, I wind up behind him.

Well, at least I’m not his partner. It could be worse.

Professor Spencer finishes up the partnering and walks briskly to the front of the classroom. “Since this is the first day of term, we’ll be starting with a simple potion to act as a refresher. Everybody please turn to page six of Magical Drafts and Potions. You will have the remainder of the class period to create the Cure for Boils. It should take, at the absolute maximum, ten minutes to complete. After the potion is completed to my satisfaction, you and your partner will be free to go. Supplies are in the cupboards beneath your tables. You may begin!”

I reach for my bag to grab the book. While I’m shuffling through it, I say to Jett, “If I remember correctly, we’re going to need three horned slugs, three porcupine quills, and six snake fangs...”

I locate my book and hold it up triumphantly before gasping in shock. Jett doesn’t even have his book out, yet is already working on brewing the potion.

“What the hell are you doing?” I shriek.

He has already crushed the snake fangs and put four measures into the cauldron, and is now proceeding to heat it.

“Relax,” he says, rolling his eyes. He leans in close to me and whispers, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually really good at Potions.”

I cover my mouth in mock surprise. “Jett Nolton is actually... smart?”

“Oi! Shut it!” He smacks me playfully on the arm and turns off the heat before carefully waving his wand over the cauldron.

“Now we let it sit for three minutes,” he announces gleefully.

I glance down at the book. Damn, he’s right.

In front of us, Sophie is spazzing out. “James! What are you doing? This potion doesn’t even use Flobberworms!”

Jett and I both start cracking up. Sophie is an absolute mess. James has the cauldron at full heat and something is steaming out of it, causing her hair to poof up.

“If you ever do that to me, I will kill you. Oh, and the three minutes are done,” I inform Jett.

We finish up the potion quickly and wave Professor Spencer over. He inspects our cauldron critically, and Jett looks anxiously from the cauldron to Spencer and back again. Finally, Professor Spencer speaks.

“Congratulations, Ms. Fields and Mr. Nolton. You can create a first year potion. You are dismissed.”

Sophie swivels around and stares at us with astonishment. “Save me,” she mouths. Now James is dumping Essence of Dittany into their cauldron. It turns an electrifying shade of blue.

Jett is trying - and failing - to contain his laughter. Sophie glares at him and turns back to the cauldron as Jett and I stroll out of the classroom, very pleased with ourselves.

Jett pokes me in the side. “So, what class have you got next?”

“Actually, I’ve got a free period,” I say, poking him back.

“Really? Me too.”

“What does one do around here during a free -”

There’s a loud bang from behind us and Sophie’s shrieks reach my ears. I assume that James has exploded their cauldron.

Soon more screams are issuing from the Potions dungeon. “Everybody calm down,” I hear Professor Spencer yelling above the ruckus. “It’s just a simple Hair-Raising Potion!”

That doesn’t seem to soothe anyone. In fact, I think there’s even more screaming. “Everyone who was not affected by the potion, please leave! If your hair is standing on end, form a line in front of my desk at once - single file, Ms. Applebee, single file!”

I hear footsteps approaching from the direction of the Potions dungeon, and James’s dark head of hair appears, a mischievous smirk plastered to his face.

“What did you do?” Jett asks, shaking with laughter.

James shrugs. “Like Professor Spencer said - a simple Hair-Raising Potion. Honestly, I thought Sophie was going to figure it out before I finished. She is a Ravenclaw, after all.” He shoots a glance in my direction. “You all are supposed to be smart, right fit new girl?”

“What is it with you and blowing stuff up?” I demand. I honestly think the guy has a problem. Maybe he should get counseling.

“I -” But before he can answer, Sophie comes storming down the hallway, cutting him off.

“James! Professor Spencer wants to see you in his office RIGHT NOW!”

James’s face falls into a frown. “Well, looks like I’ve got to run. Nolton, wait for me up in the common room, will you? And Sophie, I can’t wait to be your partner for the rest of term.”

Sophie pales at his words, and something about James’s tone makes me pale as well. He begins to step back towards the dungeons, but stops mid-stride. “Oh, fit new girl?”

Really? We’re still on that, are we?

“I’ve got to come up with a better nickname for you - how about Yank? Nah, that’s no good. I’ll think on it.”

He walks away, leaving Sophie, Jett, and I in silence.

“Is he for real?” That’s all I can think to ask.

Jett nods. “Unfortunately, yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies.” He resumes walking as well, presumably heading back to the Gryffindor common room.

“Come on, we should head back to the Tower,” Sophie sighs.

“Er - all right.” Heck if I know what we should do.

Sophie drags me through the Hogwarts maze back up to Ravenclaw Tower, knocking on the door and quickly solving the riddle. By the way, I’m really disliking this damn riddle solving business. Why couldn’t they just use a password?

We enter the common room, and, as soon as we’re seated on one of the couches, Sophie turns anxiously to me. “You never answered my question. Why the hell did you flip out in the Great Hall this morning?”

“What do you mean why the hell did I flip out? Freaking Potter covered me in freaking pumpkin juice!”

“No, I know that. I’m asking why you started cursing him.”

“Did you not just hear me? Freaking Potter covered me in freaking pumpkin juice!” Seriously, what doesn’t she get?

“Oh, I see. You didn’t understand.”

What the hell?

“See, James pranking you is sort of a big deal. He only pulls pranks on two types of people: those he deems popular enough to associate with and those he really, really hates. I’m assuming that you’re the former.”

That makes absolutely no sense.

Sophie acknowledges the blank look on my face and continues. “Getting pranked by James - especially in front of the whole school - means that you have been accepted into his circle. Congratulations. James Potter likes you - or he at least thinks that you’re cool enough for him.”

“Great.” Sense the sarcasm.

“You should be grateful, Aria. Most of us have been waiting for years in the hopes that James will finally choose us. And you get picked after less than a day. It’s not fair.” She’s positively pouting now.

“God, you make it sound like a cult or something.” Honestly, I want nothing to do with James and his little games. Sophie can have my spot if she wants it that badly.

She pulls out a book out of her bag and starts to read. I, on the other hand, do not wish to read, nor do I want to spend my time wandering aimlessly around the common room. However, I still have an hour to kill before lunch. So, I decide to try to find the Great Hall on my own. That should take at least an hour.

I exit the Common Room, head down the massive spiral staircase and follow the corridor to its end. Okay. So far, so good.

Now if only the stairs would stop moving.

I eventually do find my way to the Great Hall. I have to admit that I’m quite proud of myself. It took me an hour and a half, but I did it.

I walk over to the Ravenclaw table and grab the empty seat next to Louis, who sends me a fake terrified look. “You’re not going to hex me, are you?”

“Shut up, or I just might.”

He resumes biting into his sandwich.

“Say, Louis, I’ve got a question. If you’re a sixth year and Albus is a fifth year, how come you had History of Magic together this morning?”

Speaking of Albus, there he is. He slides onto the bench on the opposite side of the table.

“Well, Albus here is a little genius. He probably could have skipped ahead a year in any number of his classes, but he only chose History of Magic.”

Albus grins. “And Divination. Those are my two least favorite classes - if I can finish with them a year early, why not?”

“But why wouldn’t you just skip ahead a whole year?” I ask him. It doesn’t make sense to skip only two classes.

Albus shrugs. “I like school and I love Hogwarts. If I skipped ahead a year, that would be one less year that I get to spend here. James feels the same way.”

My eyes widen in shock. “James could have skipped a year?”

“Yup. He’d never admit it to anyone, but he’s actually really smart. Mum swore he was going to be in Ravenclaw. But I guess his pigheadedness outweighed his intelligence even back when he was being sorted.”

Hmm. I would not have guessed that.

“That’s why all the teachers put up with his crap. He never pays attention in class because he doesn’t have to. He’s smart, and they all know it. He’s got to be to pull off the pranks that he does.”

I glance over at the Gryffindor table. James is trying to flick his peas into Rose’s goblet while she’s not looking.

Him. Smart.

Yeah right.

A/N: A bit more action in this chapter, yeah? And we find out that James is actually quite brilliant!

Anyhoo, hope you liked it.  

I bid you adieu.

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