Author’s Notes: This chapter is James’s POV.

 

Chapter 2 – And Rat Makes Four

 

James was drowning, but for some reason, he wasn’t bothered by it. The beautiful green of the waves closing over his head reminded him strongly of something he couldn’t place, but that made him feel almost calm. He was warm, and comfortable, and it felt more like floating than drowning.

 

Then a particularly cold wave hit, and James let out a cry and sat bolt upright in bed. He felt almost a sense of loss to realize he’d been dreaming. But if he’d really been dreaming, why was he soaking wet?

 

The sound of laughter nearby caused him to rip open the bed curtains to glare at the two boys collapsed on the floor in gales of laughter. Sirius had his wand out.

 

“You!” James snarled, and launched himself off the bed to tackle the chortling grey-eyed villain.

 

“Hey, there!” James heard Remus call out. “Help me with them!”

 

A moment later he felt hands pulling him and Sirius apart. He struggled briefly, until he noted that Sirius, who had gone almost limp in Remus’s restraining arms, was looking not only tousled, but decidedly damp as well. Feeling mollified enough to begin calmly plotting his revenge, James stopped fighting his unknown captor.

 

“Are you two going to behave?” Remus demanded, in a tone that added, ‘Or am I going to have to make you?’ all by itself.

 

James summoned his most innocent I’m sorry face and nodded when Sirius – an identical look on his visage – did.

 

Remus’s eyes narrowed, as though he knew exactly what was going on behind those repentant looks, but he released his armful, and the grip on James relaxed a moment later.

 

“Thank you,” Remus addressed the person behind James.

 

The hazel-eyed boy turned to the presumed inhabitant of the fourth bed in the dorm. The boy was small, though a little pudgy, with mousy hair and small, watery eyes. James couldn’t help but think that, with that pointy nose, the boy looked a bit like an overfed rat.

 

“I guess we didn’t meet you properly last night,” Remus was saying. “You were already in bed, and we didn’t want to bother you.”

 

“It’s okay.” The small boy fidgeted. “Erm… I’m Peter Pettigrew…”

 

“I’m hungry,” Sirius sounded bored.

 

“‘Hungry’ is better known as ‘Sirius Black,’” James commented pointedly, then gave said boy an I’m-going-to-get-you-for-waking-me-up-like-that look.

 

“And sopping-wet there is usually called ‘James Potter,’” Sirius remarked casually, returning James’s look with one clearly stating, ‘I’d like to see you try.’

 

“And I’m Remus Lupin,” Remus finished, sending both black-haired boys a don’t-make-me-tell-you-to-behave-again glare.

 

“Nice to meet you,” Pettigrew squeaked, then grabbed some clothes from the floor where he’d obviously dropped them earlier, and vanished into the bathroom.

 

Odd bugger, James thought, before returning to his immediate problem. “You’re a bloody prat,” he informed Sirius. “If I’d wanted a bucket of ice cold water dumped on me first thing in the morning, I’d have right well asked for it!”

 

Remus was making an odd choking noise, hands tightly clamped over his mouth.

 

“And you,” James turned on the amber-eyed boy. “You could’ve stopped him!”

 

“Why would he do a thing like that?” Sirius wanted to know, grey eyes dancing. “It was his idea.”

 

“What?” James spluttered.

 

“You’re getting the carpet wet,” Remus pointed out, before retreating behind his hands once more.

 

James’s voice didn’t seem to work.

 

Memo to self: find suitable way to get revenge on Sirius and Remus.

 

“Well, I suppose it wasn’t all Rem’s idea,” Sirius acknowledged, voice perfectly calm, as though he were merely commenting on the weather. “Rem said even a bucket of water wouldn’t wake you up, you were so fast asleep.” There was a decidedly villainous gleam in the boy’s eyes, despite the tone of his voice, which hadn’t changed. “I said I thought it would, and I could prove it. So I did. Though, of course, we didn’t use a bucket. It was a spell. And now that you’re up, I wouldn’t want you to catch cold.” Sirius casually waved the wand he still held, muttering something that sounded to James like, “Nihil aquae.”

 

Instantly, James’s clothes, bed, and the patch of carpet he’d been dripping on where dry as parchment.

 

James gaped for a moment. “Where’d you learn to do that?” he demanded when he could speak.

 

“Home,” Sirius replied with a shrug.

 

“But we’re not supposed to do magic ‘til we get to school! You’re pureblood, you should know that!” James protested. “Why hasn’t the Ministry – ”

 

“The Ministry won’t do a thing,” Sirius sounded contemptuous, and far older than his eleven years. “They can’t tell who the spell caster is, you know, only the location. And since I am pureblood, they have no way of knowing if it was Mother, or Father, or not. Besides, since it’s me, they’d look the other way anyhow.”

 

“Why?” Remus had stopped trying to smother his laughter and was looking interested.

 

“Cuz of my family,” said Sirius dully.

 

“The Blacks are a very prominent and influential family,” James clarified, seeing Remus’s uncomprehending look.

 

“Meaning we have a lot of gold and know how to use it to get what we want,” Sirius sounded thoroughly bitter.

 

James exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Remus, who looked miserably guilty for having brought it up.

 

There was a very awkward silence, broken by Pettigrew stumbling back into the dorm, fully changed into day clothes. He dumped his things unceremoniously into his trunk before heading for the door.

 

“Um, I’m going for breakfast,” the pudgy boy said hesitantly, turning back to the room, hand on the doorknob.

 

“We’ll be down once we’re dressed,” James told him when he realized neither Remus nor Sirius was going to say anything. “You don’t need to wait.”

 

“Oh… um, okay.” Pettigrew disappeared through the door and could be heard clumping down the stairs as the heavy wood swung shut behind him.

 

“Siri…” Remus paused, waiting until the gray-eyed boy turned to him. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to – ”

 

“Don’t, Rem,” Sirius said quietly. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“But it does!”

 

James stared, surprised by the vehemence in the smaller boy’s voice.

 

Sirius looked shocked too.

 

“It’s your family, and I shouldn’t’ve pried. It’s none of my business!”

 

“Calm down, Rem,” Sirius sounded a trifle alarmed. “You didn’t know my family’s a load of prats.” His stomach growled, and he grinned in an almost relieved fashion. He draped a friendly arm across the brunet’s shoulders, not seeming to notice the slight tensing in the smaller boy’s body as he did so. “Why don’t we all just get dressed and head down for some breakfast like Jamie-boy and Pete suggested?”

 

He didn’t wait for an answer, but steered Remus towards the bathroom.

 

“‘Pete’?” James heard Remus ask. “You really shouldn’t be so familiar right away, you know.”

 

“We’re going to be rooming with him for the next seven years,” Sirius’s voice replied with a bark-like laugh. “I think I can call him by his given name.”

 

“But you didn’t know we’d be rooming together when – ”

 

The sound of running water cut off the conversation, and James decided to just get dressed instead of going for his own shower. He preferred to shower at night, anyway, and he’d had a bit of a bath that morning anyway…

 

* * * * *

 

It hit him hard, like walking into a wall, and just as sudden. The only time James had felt anything so strongly was when he had first seen the redheaded angel, Evans (or Lily as he called her in his head). Only this was nothing like the nervous-stomach-flop, just-swallowed-the-most-delicious-mouthful-of-the-best-hot-chocolate-ever, I-think-I’ve-died-and-gone-to-heaven-to-see-such-an-angel sensation he’d gotten the night before. No, this feeling was much closer to actually running into a wall, and realizing you hated the wall with every fiber of your being. Or, rather, having a wall run into you.

 

“Watch where you’re going!” Sirius snapped at the boy who had run into James.

 

James couldn’t even find the words to express his displeasure, he just glared at the hook-nosed, sallow-skinned creature before him with all his might, wishing he had light-colored eyes so he could really cast a good Evil Eye.

 

“He was in the way,” the greasy-haired boy retorted, glaring right back at James.

 

“Don’t take that tone with me, you slimy Slytherin git,” Sirius snarled. “You walked into him! Apologize.”

 

“Why should I listen to the disgrace of the Black family?” the Slytherin demanded, giving Sirius a contemptuous glance before returning his glare full force to James.

 

“Disgrace?!” outrage for his new-found friend shook James from his silent loathing.

 

“His entire family’s in Slytherin, but he couldn’t even do that!”

 

“Who’d want to be a snake?” James spat, hand inching towards his wand.

 

“James, calm down,” Remus muttered, grabbing James by the wrist.

 

“Listen to your little friend, James,” the lank-haired boy taunted.

 

“Don’t you dare use my given name, snake,” James gritted. “It’s ‘Potter,’ if you must address me.”

 

“Get out of here, Snape,” Remus warned. “The Great Hall is full of teachers. We don’t need trouble our first day.”

 

The black-eyed Slytherin, Snape, sneered, but turned on his heel and stalked across the entrance hall ahead of them and into the Great Hall.

 

Remus released James once the offensive Slytherin was out of reach.

 

“How’d you know that prat’s name?” Sirius wanted to know as they found seats at the Gryffindor table.

 

“Severus Snape,” Remus replied, calmly filling a plate with eggs and bacon, “was Sorted last night. His name was announced, just like the rest of us.”

 

“Oh.” Sirius blinked, and began to load his own plate with food.

 

James followed suit, hungry despite the strange new feeling writhing like angry snakes in his stomach. Even the sight of Lily talking with a group of girls a few seats down couldn’t lift the new feeling of unadulterated loathing.

 

“Should we ask Peter to join us?” Remus asked suddenly.

 

“What?” James looked up from his plate, which he’d been staring at, stewing in his disgust.

 

“He’s eating alone,” Remus gestured with his fork towards the end of the table where, sure enough, the fourth inhabitant of their dorm room was eating by himself.

 

“Er…” James looked at Sirius, who shrugged and rose to his feet.

 

James and Remus followed, James realizing that Remus had called the boy ‘Peter,’ which must have meant that Sirius had won whatever argument they’d had earlier.

 

“Cheers, Pete,” Sirius clapped a hand on the small boy’s shoulder.

 

The boy gasped in surprise, juice flying from his mouth, and started coughing.

 

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate,” Sirius grinned, and waited for the small boy’s breathing to return to normal. “Anyway, we – ” his gesture took in Remus and James as well as himself, “ – were wondering if you’d care to partake of some fine food with us – ”

 

“We noticed you breaking your fast all by your onesies,” James interjected. “And we thought you might wish to join us – ”

 

“Not that we’d dream of putting a crimp on your plans for flying solo,” Sirius went on, “if that’s what you’ve a mind to do – ”

 

“ – but we thought we’d offer, in case it wasn’t your heart’s desire to eat by your lonesome,” James finished.

 

Peter stared.

 

James heard Remus give a cough that might have been a laugh pretending.

 

“We were just wondering if you wanted to sit with us,” Remus explained.

 

“Oh,” Peter’s expression cleared some. “All right.”

 

“Spiffing!” Sirius exclaimed, slapping the pudgy boy so hard on the back he nearly tumbled into the porridge in front of him.

 

“Absolutely corking!” James agreed, giving the unfortunate boy another hearty pat on the back, and struggling to contain his laughter as the smaller boy fought to stay upright.

 

Remus gave another suspicious-sounding cough as he led the way back to their seats. James rather thought the pale brunet was fighting a grin.

 

* * * * *

 

“Mr. Lupin, would you stay for a moment?” Professor McGonagall called out Wednesday afternoon as the bell signaling the end of the Gryffindors’ first-ever Transfiguration lesson rang. “I’d like a word.”

 

“I’ll catch you up,” Remus told his dorm mates. “Don’t wait.”

 

“Are you – ” Sirius began.

 

“I’m sure, Siri,” Remus smiled. “Go on. Don’t be late to Charms on account of me.”

 

Sirius looked ready to protest again, so James grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the classroom.

 

“McGonagall’s not going to eat him, you know,” James pointed out, wondering at the boy’s strange reluctance to let their friend out of his sight.

 

“Remus didn’t mind,” Peter (who’d been tagging along with them all week) pointed out. “So you shouldn’t either, Siri.” He grinned.

 

Sirius’s grey eyes darkened as a frown appeared on his face. “Who told you that you could call me ‘Siri’?” his voice had gone dangerously low.

 

“I just thought…” Peter trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

 

“Be careful, you might hurt yourself.”

 

“That’s not very nice, Sirius,” James remarked, but he couldn’t bring himself to be particularly bothered, Lily had just passed with a group of her friends, and he was too busy watching her walk down the hall.

 

Sirius rolled his eyes at James, black mood passing. “Just don’t call me that,” he told the pudgy boy.

 

“Al – all right,” Peter still looked nervous.

 

They walked into their Charms classroom and sat down in the back.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said in a small voice once they were settled.

 

But it didn’t look to James as if Sirius had even heard. The grey-eyed youth was busy waving frantically at an out-of-breath Remus, who had just appeared in the doorway, looking as though he’d run to make the bell.

 

“Did I miss anything?” he asked, sitting between James and Sirius.

 

“Course not, idiot, the bell hasn’t even rung,” Sirius snorted, but it was said kindly and he was looking quite cheerful again.

 

Guess that means I should tell him, James thought as the bell itself chimed. He glanced at his friends. Sirius seemed to have forgotten the incident, but Peter was looking thoroughly dejected. I think I’ll wait until it’s just me and Rem, though. Save some awkwardness.

 

TBC