The Following

Chapter Three: The Dark is Rising

Throughout James, Sirius, and Remus' next class, Transfiguration, the subject of Thalia's outburst in Potions was on everyone's mind and the topic of everyone's conversation. Rumors were spreading like wildfire; her absence to the class acting as an accelerant. James and Sirius were discussing the incident so vividly that Sirius had accidentally screwed up his Sapiens Fowl Transfiguration Spell he was performing on his best friend. Instead of turning James into a chicken, which would molt in a matter of minutes, poor Prongs was still stuck with a rooster's crown on top of his head, and occasionally clucked. Professor McGonagall assured him, before he left for lunch, that he'd be as right as rain soon enough. James wasn't so sure.

"I swear to all things holy, Sirius, that if I'm still like this by the Prefect meeting tonight cluck cluck," he glared at Sirius, who was trying to stifle his laughter, but failing miserably, "I'll curse you when you least expect it."

"No you won't, Prongsy," Sirius laughed and threw his arm around his friend. "You love me too much."

As Remus chortled at Sirius' attempted at puppy-dog eyes, James' harsh expression softened. "Damn, you know me cluck cluck too well for your own good."

"That's the obligation of being your best friend, silly goose. Or should I say chicken?"

"You know who we don't know very well? Thalia," Remus interrupted, bringing up the previous conversation. "I still can't see how she could've broken those glasses without the use of a wand."

"Assuming she's the one who broke them," Sirius pointed out. "You know, there could have been a breeze or something. That shelf wasn't all too sturdy."

"You saw how she was glaring at Wormwood. I've read books about wizards who could destroy huge buildings just by concentrating on them hard enough. Some sort of psychokinesis gone astray would be the best way to describe it."

"Gone astray? What do you mean by that?" James looked at Remus through his glasses, trying to cover up his red crown with his naturally messy raven hair as they approached the Great Hall.

"Psychokinesis is the power to make things move with your inner energy, your Chi. Just move. You're not suppose to be able to destroy objects with it," Remus said matter-of-fact. He smiled sheepishly as his friends gave him the well known "How do you know all this information?" look, "Some parts of Divination interest me that's all."

"Oh that's just fan-bloody-tastic!" Sirius said with a huff. "We have a girl in our midst that is both a closet Dark Wizard and can just blow us to smithereens with her mind! She's a winner, that's for sure."

"Whatever she is cluck baGAWCK, Dumbledore trusts her, and that's enough for me," James said stubbornly, ignoring the snickers and finger-pointing that was going on. He and his two mates strutted down between tables to catch up with their friends who were already sitting at the Gryffindor table, savoring lunch. It was no surprise that Thalia wasn't among the diners present.

"There you three are! I was wondering what took you," Arabella said as Sirius and Remus sat down and pulled up a plate, which immediately filled with food. James was still standing, making a rather rude gesture at some Slytherins who were making chicken noises in his direction. Obviously, the minor but annoying taunts had gotten the better of him.

"We had to stay after class to ask McGonagall about Prong's, ahem, problem," Remus' eyes twinkled with mirth as nodded towards the still-visible crown atop James' head. Peter and Mundy, who weren't in Transfiguration last hour, tried to hide their obvious amusement by coughing into their napkins. Alas, it was in vain.

"Oh, ha ha, laugh at my expense," he said dryly as he flounced into his usual seat next to Sirius and grabbed a plate.

"With relish," grinned Peter. "I guess this is the comeuppance for turning me into a living example of Absinthe Glass."*

"Oi! Mail's coming!" slurred Sirius through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. And sure enough, the faint screeching of owls could be heard above them. Suddenly, with a great SWOOSH, a cascade of birds flew in, dropping off letters, packages, newspapers, and parcels to expecting students. A great roan barn owl with mail in talon dove precariously over the Gryffindor table, causing a group of first years to scream and fling themselves to the ground. He barely stopped before colliding with his owner's head.

"Thanks, Nemo," Remus stroked his feathers in thanks as the rest of the group got up from underneath the table, where they had taken refuge from the kamikaze bird. Nemoregere, to use the owl's proper name, dropped his owner's mail onto the well-worn wooden tabletop, took a sip from Remus' goblet, and took off carelessly into the air, almost crashing into several other flyers before leaving the Great Hall for the Owlery. Remus picked up his mail and thumbed through it. When he arrived at the copy of The Daily Prophet that was situated at the bottom of the pile, he froze. All color drained from his normally rosy complexion as he let out a faint huff of trepidation. Across the table, Peter noticed his friend's distress.

"What's the matter Moony? What's happened?" he said tentatively, as if he feared the answer. The rest of the boys grew silent as they waited for Remus to speak. Remus swallowed hard then began reading the headline.

"LORD VOLDEMORT" STRIKES AGAIN

DEATH TOLL RISES TO EIGHT

This has been the second attack in three months by the Dark wizard who calls himself "Lord Voldemort" writes correspondent Edna Pruitt. The attack, situated in a small wizarding community outside of Essex, resulted in the death of five witches and wizards, two of which were children, Wednesday evening. Witnesses say that Voldemort, along with several other dark cloaked individuals whom he called "Death Eaters", went into the victims' home and murdered them outright.

"The wizarding world hasn't experienced anything this flagitious since Grindelwald's time," stated Alastor Moody, an Auror who was first on the scene. "When we catch the slime that has done this, you can be sure they'll face some dire consequences."

This attack is an eerie mirror image of the first attack by Voldemort three months prior in the wizard village of Hogsmeade, in which three witches and wizards were murdered. Both attacks were similar in style and were marked with a calling card that is now being referred to as The Dark Mark.

The families of the victims have been notified, but names have not been released to the public. If you have any information on Lord Voldemort or the Death Eaters, please contact your local Ministry Official. Until the culprits are caught, however, the Ministry advises that everyone be on the lookout for anything that does not seem normal and be cautious.

As Remus finished his recitation, he passed the paper around. Underneath the article was a picture of the poor victims' home, and above the house was something that seemed to be the epitome of evil. It was a ghastly form; huge, menacing, and twinkling. The shape it was in was that of a cruel looking skull with a snake protruding out from its sneering mouth like a serpentish tongue. The people in the photo looked as if just the mere sight of this thing made them uneasy; they were constantly glancing up at the Mark, grimacing, and walking quickly away.

"This doesn't look too good," muttered Mundy as he past the paper along.

"That's a gross understatement," Remus laughed harshly. "This Voldemort guy seems to mean business. It will be a miracle if there isn't another attack much worse than these two."

"Always the pessimist, cluck aren't we Remus?"

"Maybe so, James, but as I always say, 'Expect the worst so when it comes it won't be a kick in the face'."

"Nice motto, Moony. Remind me to cross-stitch it on a sampler for you for Christmas. It'd be a nice thing to hang in the dormitory," Sirius rolled his crystal blue eyes. "Seriously though, this Voldemort character just seems to be another one of those mad wizards who indulge themselves in the Dark Arts so much that they don't even know what's reality anymore. Remember back ten years ago when a few wizards were going around killing Muggles? They ended up in Azkaban faster than you can snap your fingers. The same thing will happen with this psycho and his band of Death Eaters." He slammed his fist down on the newspaper as if to solidify his point. Remus looked up at him, mouth drawn in a thin line and his eyes filled with doubt.

"I hope so, Padfoot. I hope so."

*****

"Mr. Black, I advise you not to goof around in this class!" Madam Higgins glared at the mischievous teen, who quickly put on his most angelic looks and stared at his shoes appropriately, all the while concealing the spitwads he was flinging at the ceiling using his wand just moments before. James, Remus, Peter, and Mundy were turning red from holding in their laughter, while Arabella was giving the five reproachful looks. "Honestly," continued the harassed Apparation Professor as she ruffled some papers on her desk, "if you keep this up, you're going to end up splinched and then you'll feel sorry for not paying attention."

"No, I won't," muttered Sirius under his breath, causing his companions to snicker. Higgins, luckily, didn't hear as she situated herself in front of the class. She clapped her hands together and looked around at the students, "Apparation is a difficult task for a wizard to perform. Most witches or wizards choose not to do it because of the consequences of messing up an Apparation. I admit, being splinched isn't a walk in the park, but I do think that Apparation is the best, and fastest, way for a wizard to travel. Now then," Madam Higgins dug around in her scarlet-red robes and dug out her wand, "listen and watch; make sure to note my wand movement: disappatium hallway!" She waved her wand with a flourish and then there was a loud POP! and she was gone.

"That was pretty cool," James complemented. The rest agreed wholeheartedly while Remus just nodded; he was too busy scratching away at a piece of parchment with a quill, writing down notes. Madam Higgins popped back into the room just moments after.

"As you can see, Apparation doesn't seem too hard. But trust me it is. In this class, more than any, you will need to pay the utmost attention if you want to succeed, and not end up in the Hospital Wing," she looked pointingly at Sirius. "Now this is the beginning level of Apparation. In time, after much practice, you will be able to just Apparate without the use of a wand, just by imagining the place you want to go and saying the spell in your mind." Higgins got up from her relaxed position on her desk and motioned for a few students to help her push the tables and chairs to the back of the room. She explained as she worked, "What we are going to do now is practice Apparating from one side of the room to another. By getting all these chairs and tables out of the way, it will reduce the chance of a mishap. Now, a volunteer. Mr. Lupin, why don't you give it a go?" The sandy haired boy's mouth went dry as he went to the back of the room next to Higgins.

"All right, Mr. Lupin, just wave your wand like this," she showed him slowly, emphasizing the twists and wrist rolls to make sure he caught it, "and say disappatium front of room! "

Remus swallowed hard, and said, "Disappatium front of room!" With two almost simultaneous POP! noises he disappeared and reappeared at the front of the room to tremendous applause. He just smiled sheepishly and returned to the back of the room where he was given a hearty slap on the back from Sirius.

"Very good Mr. Lupin. Ten points to Gryffindor. All right then, now the rest of you give it a go. Go on!" Madam Higgins prodded the remainder of the students. What started out as reluctance soon became fun as Sirius decided that Apparating to the front of the room was boring and that "Disappatium chandelier!" would prove to be more amusing. James and Peter took his lead and soon there were witches and wizards popping up all over the room, on top of bookcases, inside cabinets, and one time James even dared to land on top of Higgins' desk, letting out a tremendous "Cock-a-doodle-do!" in the process. Remus and Mundy just sat back and watched, stitches growing in their sides from laughing so hard. Arabella looked conflicted, as if she wanted to laugh, but thought it would just encourage them. Her maturity broke down however when Sirius' planned Apparation went astray and he landed in the rubbish can. Madam Higgins just laid her head down on her desk and was heard muttering about Madam Pomfrey and how much Headache Drought she would have to make for her this evening.

Everyone was having so much fun at creating chaos that hardly anyone noticed when a student arrived tardy to class. That the student seemed pale, her eyes red-rimmed as if she'd been crying. Only Remus saw Thalia slip into her seat, virtually unnoticed.

*****

The boys left Apparation class in much better spirits than they had entered it two hours prior. All thoughts about Voldemort and Thalia were vanquished from their minds, that is, until they were confronted by a very anxious, but determined Lily Evans.

"There you are!" she said flabbergasted and woebegone, practically running towards James as he and the rest of the squad approached the Fat Lady. He turned and surpressed a sigh of disdain. "Here I am, you've found me. Am I 'It' next?" She looked at him curiously, "I don't know what you mean."

"It seems to me cluck cluck that we're playing some prolonged game of hide and seek with all of these 'There you are's' and chasing down's and whatnot," James smiled nonchalantly while Sirius and Mundy had to turn around to hide their laughter. Lily was not amused.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Potter, but we aren't," she glared furiously. "The reason that I so frantically looked for you is that Dumbledore has pushed up the Prefect meeting to before dinner so we can have a lengthy discussion about the troubles that are brewing outside Hogwarts. To," she looked down at the thin silver watch that darned her wrist, "an hour from now, in fact. Also, you, being Head Boy and all," she said mockingly, "you're expected to give some sort of a speech on Voldemort and how as Head Boy you're going to make sure the school and its occupants will be kept safe. Good luck," she smiled sweetly, and started to walk away. Before she came to the corner of the seventh floor corridor she turned and slung at James a parting jibe, "You know, the chicken look just doesn't suit you. Next time, I think being transfigured into a jackass would be more appropriate." And with a wave of her fingers, she turned the corner, unfortunately missing the most wonderful shade of red James' face turned and how Sirius teased him about how he let a girl get the better of him.

"She's a spitfire, there's no mistaking that," laughed Mundy as James just scowled darkly. "A mighty pretty spitfire, if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, if you're into flame-haired banshees," James said unconvincingly. He turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady, "Alpha Centauri!"

"Right you are sir!" The Fat Lady swiveled open, clearing the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Besides," James said hastily. "She isn't my type."

"Oh, so you ARE saying you like her," teased Peter.

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!" Sirius and Peter chanted in a childish fashion.

"No I'm not!" James retorted in an equally juvenile matter and slammed the door to the seventh year dormitory.

"The first day back and already he has a crush on a girl who can't stand him," smiled Sirius as he sank into an overstuffed brick red armchair. "Good ol' Prongsy."

*****

"Welcome Hogwarts Prefects to the first official meeting that we'll be having periodically throughout the year," Lily began an hour later. The Prefects, six from each house, were situated around a circular table in highly polished oak chairs; Lily and the finally chicken-free James sitting across from each other. The room they were in was something to be wondered: shaped like a dome, the ceiling was covered in twinkling constellations, which would switch seasonal patterns every couple of minutes or so. The eight windows were stained glassed, in a scheme of red, green, yellow, and blue. To top it off, tapestries adorned the walls depicting the achievements each house had accomplished since the school was founded. But the beauty of the room wasn't what was on the mind of the Prefects as Lily went on to inform them about Voldemort and the troubles they could be soon facing.

"With recent attacks, Dumbledore has found it necessary for you all as Prefects and James and me as Head Boy and Girl to be aware that we need to be a backbone for the students. There are going to be many questions that are going to be asked that we may not know the answers to, but we have to give reassuring answers as so not to create even more problems, understand?" She looked around the table as the congregation all nodded their heads in reply; James in a more curt manner than most. She smiled, "Great. Now, any questions?"

"Just one! Over here Lily!" a ginger-haired boy with curly hair was waving his hand in the air excitedly.

"All right. Robert Bones of Hufflepuff has the floor." Lily sat down as the fifth year stood up and faced everyone.

"You say that people are going to come to us with questions that we may not be able to answer, but we should try and answer them anyway, right?" Lily nodded and urged him to continue. He swallowed, "But what happens when they come to us with a question that we do know the answer to, but the answer is so horrible that they would be better off not knowing?" Robert sat down as his fellow Prefects began muttering their opinions of the question to their colleagues. Lily rapped her knuckles on table to quiet everyone down and was about to answer the question, but James cut her off.

"Well, Robert, as Dumbledore always says, 'The truth is preferable to lies'. Just hiding the fact that something is horrible isn't going to make it go away. In fact, it will probably make it even harder to comprehend when the truth is finally revealed. So to answer your question, answer students' ponderings with the most truthful answer you can think of, all right?"

"Thank you, James," Lily said in a business-type tone, but underneath, you could sense the annoyance. "Since you obviously have a strong opinion on the subject, why don't you give us your standing as Head Boy on the subject?"

"All right then," James stood up nonchalantly, but underneath his calm façade he was sweating big time. Sure, it was easy just talking to people, answering questions. When it came to actual public speaking, giving speeches and the like, however, James hated it. "My standing on the um, Voldemort situation, is this..." James began awkwardly, wringing his hands. Luckily for him, it was at that moment a mousy-haired fifth year ran into room, panting and gasping for air as if he ran the entire way.

"Matthew Creevy! What on earth..."Lily was interrupted by the boy as he caught his breath.

"Sorry, Lily, but this is urgent! Dumbledore sent me from dinner to inform you all. Thought it would best if I brought the message..." He rambled unaware to him, his voice holding the tone of someone who held a bombshell in their hands and was on the verge of dropping it. "It's Voldemort. He's attacked again. I'm sorry James," he turned to face the Head Boy, tears brimming in his eyes. James looked at him numbly, not even really hearing the next thing Matthew said.

"He--he got your mum and dad."