Darkening

Chapter 2: Beginnings

The scarlet train chugged to a stop, the steam mingling with the air, made dusky by the deepening twilight. No sooner had it halted than young Sirius Black bounded off, his rattling suitcase in tow. He took a deep breath, beaming and taking no heed as his friends crashed into his stalled form, their own smaller valises tumbling about. He turned with careless surprise at the thuds from behind him, glancing between the distant glimmer of the lake and his friends with a slow, dawning realization. His face suddenly took on a pout. "No boats!" he whined. "Say, no fair, no fair! I never got a chance to knock Moony in the lake."

"What?" said James quickly and jumpily, his hazel eyes flashing to the rumpled, careworn boy beside him.

"Don't call me that," Remus added intensely, looking hurriedly around.

Sirius waved their concerns away. "Just tell anyone who asks that James pantsed you over the summer and now I won't stop calling you that."

There was a slight pause while they digested that.

"O-kay," said Peter slowly, giving Sirius a look. "Anyway, I'm just glad you don't have another chance to knock me, James, and Lily into the lake."

"I went in too," Sirius protested.

"You enjoyed it," James accused.

"Well, true, but if I remember- and I do- you found it most amusing that Evans' new robes got soa - Salazar!" Sirius exclaimed, the curse he was used to escaping his lips and betraying his surprise.

Before their eyes, some already creakily rolling at high speed towards the castle, were old-fashioned carriages with large wheels, their color indistinguishable in the night. A considerable gap after one carriage and before the following made quite clear what was absent in the picturesque scene.

"Carriages without horses," said James, not terribly impressed. "Really, I was hoping for winged horses."

"With-out - horses?" Sirius said jerkily, staring at the empty space in front of the carriages.

"Uh-huh," Peter said patiently.

"None of you see- anything?" he asked a bit desperately, his larger hand settling tightly into the meat of Peter's shoulders and his other dancing before Remus' somnolent eyes.

"Stop trying to make us think you're mad, Black," said James rather teasingly. He punched his friend in the shoulder. "We already know that."

Sirius smiled queasily. "Oh, great, maybe I actually am nuts," he mumbled quietly. "It's like Stebbins keeps saying- it's a fine line between genius and insanity..." He tilted his head as he realized his friends had departed and walked in front of him. He turned his dark eyes at the stars reproachfully. "I blame inbreeding." Blinking, he turned his sight to the carriages again, as if to insure he actually saw this strange apparition. Rolling his eyes, he trailed after his friends towards the carriages, looking longingly at the boats in the distance where Hagrid was yelling, "Firs' years, firs' years!"

"And why, pray tell, am I supposed to give up my carriage when I was here first?!" a familiar voice rang out, infuriated.

James, ahead, was arguing with Evans. All was right with Sirius Black's world again. Eagerly, he bounded forward. "Ahem, Pete, 'xactly what's happening?" Sirius asked him.

Peter, his attention slowly snapping away from the argument, responded. "Five girls, four to a carriage, drew straws, Lily got stuck out."

James' voice drowned out Sirius' attempt at posing another question. "Because I don't want to share a carriage with you. You're a girl. Girls... smell," he said, his face twisting uncertainly, as if he were no longer quite sure what he was saying.

"I- w- WHAT?!"

The two boys considered the arguing pair considerately. "Drew straws?" Sirius puzzled aloud, Lily's sputtering allowing a brief window of silence. "What does illustration have to do with anything?"

"Muggle concept, Remus says," the smaller boy assured him.

"And you've deadened your brains in the meanwhile," James continued loudly in a misguided attempt to salvage the situation, drawing attention from his fellow year-mates. "It's all those awful scents you lot use that fill up good air and fry the thinking bits, like that Plaid Polish nonsense and the Un-Lock Nest Hair Potion and Eau de BoraBora or whatever you call it-"

"What are you on about?" interjected Remus, looking as bewildered as Evans.

"It's why men rule the world!" James exclaimed nonsensically but passionately, gesturing wildly.

"Oh, yes, that's why Millicent Bagnold's Minister of Magic," Evans said coldly. "Because men are in charge of everything, seeing as women have destroyed their brains with- what was it?- hair care products? You are simply an amazing little man, Potter. You chauvinistic worm," she added witheringly.

"Little?" James piped up, outraged. He raised himself to his full height, which was average but slightly small for his age. "Little?!"

"At least," his taller, dark-haired friend added, propping an arm on his friend's shoulder as he eyed them with bemusement, "she called you a man. Which is questionable with all those products you were mentioning... made me wonder how you know those..."

As per usual, Sirius was ignored. James, sputtering, turned to Remus. "And I am most certainly not chauv-ah- whatever it was, I'm not!"

"It's pig, usually, isn't it?" Remus mused, addressing Lily thoughtfully. "Isn't it a chauvinistic pig?"

"Pigs, I like," Evans said icily, glaring at James as she placed her hands on her hips. Her face was nearly as red, though not as dark, as her hair, an odd combination.

"Ah-ha!" James said triumphantly, snatching his glasses back from Sirius, who had plucked the pair right off his friend's face. He waggled his finger at her. "Last year, you called me pig-headed! Your approval of pigs suggests approval of my head!"

Lily stared at him in disbelief, slowly shaking her head. "You're twisted, Potter. And for the record, while I'd prefer your head if it was snouted and pink, it was big-headed."

"Wasn't!" James insisted.

The redhead turned to Lupin, who coughed nervously. "I really don't recall," he said mildly, stepping back.

"It was big-headed," Peter chimed in politely, his round face shining with the memory. He began to tick off insults on his fingers "Right after you called her a minimus, after she called you-"

A good-sized shadow suddenly fell over the group, clearing his throat. They looked up at a tall, dark-skinned boy with a small golden hoop in one ear smiling in a fashion which should have been pleasant but seemed rather bone-chilling. The shining, polished badge on his chest marked him as the Head Boy. "Good evening," he said politely, flashing his white teeth again and sending them into utter silence. "Amusing as this disturbance of the peace is, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to settle this dispute."

They stared at him, unmoving. Peter's mouth moved slowly up and down.

The Head Boy sighed, slumping. "Merlin's beard, whoever got to the carriage first, bloody well get in and let the matter drop."

Lily, stirring, blinked and lightly raised her hand. "That'd be me."

"She only beat me by about a second-" the myopic boy protested, ignoring the girl's scoffing. "And there's four of us, you see," James said beseechingly, indicating himself and his friends. "We're a package. We don't separate. We stick together."

The seventh year, who they vaguely recognized as one Kingsley Shacklebolt, stared down at James. "In the time you've just spent arguing, you couldn't have gotten another carriage?"

Potter folded his arms stubbornly. "It's the principle of the thing." He realized, a bit belatedly, that it was a very stupid principle indeed. He seemed to have been unable to resist the impulse to bother Evans.

Shacklebolt sighed heavily, running his hand from his forehead down to his nose. He turned to Remus. "Was she here first?"

Lupin, wearily, nodded. "Lily Evans says so, doesn't she? Do you think she'd lie?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius noticed Gideon Prewett twirling a lit firework like a baton and grinning idiotically at the passing girls until a witch who pushed the cart from the train rushed out of nowhere and doused it, and the Prewett, with water. Amazed at the inherent stupidity of everyone excepting himself, Black jerked a thumb at two waiting, freckle-faced figures with a straw-haired friend who seemed to find their antics hilarious. "The Prewetts have got a carriage with an opening right there."

"Give 'em Evans," James suggested fervently.

"I'll go with them!" Sirius declared, eyeing the ruined firework. No one paid him any heed.

Kingsley glanced at the sopping wet Gideon, who waved cheerily, and at Fabian, who seemed to be dreamily whacking his prefect badge with his wand. "I am most assuredly not sending any second year girl with them. You, Potter-"

"You know his name?" Peter wondered, voicing the concern all four of the boys were suddenly experiencing.

"Every prefect knows his name," Shacklebolt muttered, groaning again. "You-"

"I'll ride with the Prewetts!" Sirius volunteered again, raising his hand like in class. Not that he ever willingly raised his hand in class. He leaped up and down as if on a spring.

"Fine, go," Kingsley said, throwing his hands up in the air. His head snapped around at a sudden shout. Forgetting them, he chased after a Hufflepuff getting off the train and dashing towards the lake, bellowing, "NOT you, Stebbins! You're not a first year!"

"OY, Gideon!" Sirius shouted, only to have his hand yanked rapidly down by James, whose look of horror had tripled, if possible. His eyes behind his glasses looked cornered and horrified.

"No," he hissed. "That means I'm stuck with her!"

"I'm standing right next to you!" Lily said, straining to stay polite.

"Then you go with the Prewetts," Remus suggested to James, finally able to get a word in. "Seeing as she's not about to budge, and any other alternative puts you with her... besides, after last year's pranks, I think Gideon wants to adopt you."

James looked rather disappointed. He scuffed his shoe against the ground. "Oh. I suppose that does work out nicely, then." He gave his friends a miserable look. "It'll even be fun."

Sirius stared sulkily as his friend slouched, dragging his feet and shouting Evans nasty glances, over to the still-waiting carriage that the Prewett brothers were dangling out of. "But- b- James! Don't leave me!"

"I'll make them pay for this," Lily swore vehemently under her breath, thinking of the other Gryffindor girls already on their way as she climbed into the carriage. She ended up next to Remus, who was all right but never did anything to stop the damaging antics of Potter and Black. Across was Peter, who was sweet, but then there was Black, who was fidgeting impatiently and shooting her annoyed looks. Grumpily, the boy snatched Peter's wizard hat from his lap, plunked it on his own head and pulled it low over his eyes, hands fidgeting all the while. She cleared her throat softly, folded her hands, and crossed her ankles. This was going to be a long ride...

Sirius practically threw himself out of the carriage the moment he had a chance, both because of Evans and the beasts pulling it that apparently only he could see. He seriously considered kissing the ground of Hogwarts, so relieved was he to be back. The only obstacle that halted him from actually doing so was the face of Transfiguration Professor McGonagall he encountered as he disembarked.

"Hello, Minerva," he said sweetly, and McGonagall got that odd expression she got only around him which seemed to suggest she'd like to lock him in a cupboard and never, ever let him near her again.

She eyed him warningly. "Remember your respect, Mr. Black. I would be most displeased to have to take points away from my own house on the first day of school."

"My apologies, Professor McGonagall," he said, bowing gallantly and doffing Peter's wizard hat. She looked less than thrilled, and having caught the mischief in his eyes, might have grabbed his ear and pulled him off for a discussion, but then her eyes alit on a sight previously only seen in her worst of nightmares. Her face went an unusual shade of purplish red.

Together, Gideon Prewett and James Potter stepped out of a carriage, James very distinctly saying, "So, it's a deal, then?" and offering his hand, which Gideon took firmly and pumped up and down. McGonagall pushed past Sirius, saying, "Excuse me," her face reflecting sheer panic.

Sirius snickered slightly as he headed through the great doors. Peeves dive bombed him, but his reflexes, if not as superior as James', were excellent- he ducked.

He shook his head, the entirety of the events on the train seeming like a wild dream. Things were rarely so crazy, even in the wizarding world. Nerves were on edge, even among the kids. Sirius dismissed the idea of trouble brewing around the entire country, because, if he allowed himself to think like that, the fight lost all its humor. When even the girls of opposing houses were at each other's throats... then you knew you were in trouble. Sirius refused to acknowledge it, turning his thoughts instead to the food. He linked arms with a startled Peter and Remus, and marched in to dinner.

... Except dinner, unfortunately, wouldn't start. James drummed his fingers against the table after what seemed an eternity of stomach grumbling and mutterings. Did it take this long to cross the lake when they were first years? It certainly didn't seem this long a wait, but then, he hadn't been doing the waiting, he had been swimming to the nearest boat after being knocked into the water by who he considered to be a half-mad, destined for Slytherin blight on his existence who seemed, for some reason or another, to actually have an acutely developed sense of humor. He looked at his best friend, spoon dangling from his nose, by his side, and to Sirius' confusion, began to laugh.

With a boom, the large and solid hands of Hagrid the groundskeeper shoved the great doors open, his gigantic ruddy face gleaming proudly down at his charges. Ah, there they were. The ickle firsties. At least one was soaked from the lake. James practically cackled at the thought. A whole bunch of wet-behind-the-ears new victims, tools for his influence- influence of good, he added hastily, feeling his thoughts sounded a bit too evil for his own liking. He'd made a deal with Prewett for excellent shipments, including a brand new product, not on the open market yet, called Filibuster's Fireworks. They'd even given him a sample. He grinned, only for it to broaden further as the Sorting Hat was set out on a rickety little stool his own behind had rested on briefly not so long ago. The first years peered at it curiously. Oh, had it had ever been great, grabbing a few on the train and telling them of the horrors of the Sorting. One had actually sounded thrilled to hear about the perilous tests of bravery and cunning and... no. Couldn't be. The eager boy with the apparent death wish was one and the same as the wet kid.

James rolled his eyes. The little wanker had probably dived in the lake. Taking a closer looking, he was getting a telling off from Hagrid- he actually might have! "Better go to Gryffindor, that one," he muttered, earning a flurry of mutters about Potter talking to himself from Laurie Jewkes.

The Sorting Hat, at long last, opened its flap, causing a few squeals from whispering first year girls.

I may be but a ragged hat

Keeping you from your feast

But pay me heed; I've got more brains

Than any being or beast.

I've sat on every student's top

Whether gold, red or brown

Years fifty score and more

Since Hogwarts' first stone was laid down.

Four houses for four founders grand

For each did want the best

Yet seeing out of different eyes,

Differed on quality's test:

Each believed their own strength greatest

And thus did disagree

And picked for their House those like them

Then left the chore to me.

Each House has its charms and failings

In one you will reside

After a peek inside your heads,

To your right House, I'll be guide

Perhaps you'll land in Hufflepuff,

Of hearts steady and true

Or if of wit and intellect,

To Ravenclaw with you

And those of you with spirits bold

Might enter Gryffindor

Or if in slyness you excel

Pass through Slytherin's door

You're one of these, there is no doubt

And I shan't steer you wrong

They've kept me here this bygone age

And not just for my song!

The founders' school is yours, good chaps

So hurry, get in line

The sooner that you put me on

The sooner you will dine!

"Bravo to that!" Sirius and James yelled together, their own cry drowned out in the roar of applause from the starving older students. The first years stared, then started clapping, too. The hat looked rather pleased, and Remus would have sworn it winked at him.

McGonagall's piercing glare, as she adjusted her hat and stood to call the names of first years to the stool, beginning with "Ackerley, Maxwell," silenced the Gryffindor table momentarily, but after he was pronounced a Ravenclaw, their whispering swiftly resumed.

"You get the feeling that was a bit directed at us?" Remus asked his friends, without the consideration that they were a bit wrapped up in their own twelve-year-old worlds.

"The food part, yes," James said fervently, and Peter nodded, licking his lips wistfully. Alice Jones, meanwhile, in the unhappy position right of Black, was quietly keeping Sirius from heckling a boy named Baddock who'd been sent to Slytherin with prods from her wand every time his mouth opened.

Remus, waiting for a rise in applause, spoke quietly again, his mouth hardly moving. "I was thinking more in terms of you loudly questioning the wisdom in letting a ha-"

"Clap, clap!" the smallest of their four urged them suddenly, nudging his friends as strongly as he dared. They burst into immediate and frantic applause, whooping as the first new Gryffindor joined them. McGonagall's piercing gaze settled carefully on them until they, along with the rest of the table, settled down.

"You realize, Remus, you're breaking the rules by talking during the Sorting," Peter offered mildly.

Sirius affected a gasp which turned into a hiss as another Slytherin joined the green-decked table. He noticed, across the way, Snape clapping for his new housemate with an inscrutable expression, a greasy forelock hanging into his eyes under which he eyed new Gryffindor "Cresswell, Dirk" suspiciously. Snickering, he turned to make a comment to James.

"Sssh!" James hissed, preemptively waving Sirius off as he suddenly became attentive. "Wet kid, it's the wet kid."

He was right; a young boy was scurrying up to the hat, ringing his robes out in his hands all the while.

"Someone fell in the lake?" Sirius asked eagerly, Snivellus forgotten.

"I think he dove in," James corrected him.

"Even better!"

"Missed his name because you were talking," Remus moaned, unable to hear McGonagall's words over the chatter of the table.

"Gudgeon, Davy," Peter, who had been listening, supplied. Sirius, delighted, ruffled his hair, only to find it too short to really ruffle.

"Gryffindor!" the hat pronounced, and the table exploded, James and Frank Longbottom, a fourth year, cheering louder than anyone.

James pushed Callie Bell, who was on his left, as far over as he possibly could, impatiently clearing a space.

"Urgh, Potter!" she complained a bit too loudly, dismayed, her honey blond hair, lighter than her older brother's darker shades, swinging over her eyes so dark a blue as to be violet that protruded a bit too far to be pretty, but would have been had they only been more deep-set. Her brother Alec, an easily excitable Quidditch player cheering and eyeing the new Gryffindors from the other end of the table, had the far better looks of the family, to his dismay, and had certainly gotten in plenty of fights over being called a 'pretty boy'.

James, his thoughts drifting to that brother, realized getting on the bad side of Callie was not a good idea. Alec adored him, of course, had been pushing to get him on the team since James had introduced himself as a first year ('What do you mean you won't let him play, Professor? Well, I know we already have a Seeker- yes, I know he's a seventh year, Professor! But Potter's better and I want to win! Say, why are you looking at me like that?'). But he was also fiercely protective of his kid sister, despite his disgust of her loathing of Quidditch, and James was not about to take chances. "My apologies, Callie," he said profusely, shoving Sirius to the side instead. His friend, distracted by staring at some older Hufflepuff girls, let out a yelp of protest, almost like a bark.

He then lifted his head up, and beckoned the kid barreling over to the Gryffindor table to sit between them. Lily Evans, noticing this from a few seats down, sighed. A poor first year, being seated between Black and Potter. Doomed, unless she rescued him. "Potter!" she snapped in as quiet an audible whisper as possible to reach his ears. James' head jerked around as if pulled on a string, taking on that automatic 'Who me?' look that was his default expression. "Leave the first years alone."

"I'm not going to hurt the ickle firsties!" James said, crossing his heart, his hazel eyes wide and innocent behind his silver glasses.

"No, you're simply going to influence them-"

"Making them good and loyal Gryffindors, like us!" Peter piped up.

"We are the souls of innocence and virtue!" Sirius swore.

Frank Longbottom, within hearing range, guffawed loudly.

Sirius blinked. "Well, I am, anyway," he amended.

The other fourth year Gryffindors also seemed to find this amusing, and their chuckling drew the eyes of the High Table. Swiftly, hands were folded properly on laps and gazes directed exclusively at the Sorting Head.

It was only a moment before James found himself being elbowed by the newest occupant of the table. "Say, are you really going to be a bad influence on me? Mum thinks this entire school is going to be a bad influence on me, but my pa thinks I'm going to be a bad influence on the school," the young boy said cheekily, but quietly enough so as not to attract notice. He was round-faced, stockily but sturdily built, and slightly on the short side, and his dirty blond hair stuck straight up. He was soaking wet, seaweed clinging to his robes, and he was looking about in wonderment. "Never seen anything like this before. Didn't think magic existed outside of comics. Boy, this is great. Talking hats, star ceilings- oh I'm Davy Gudgeon, don't y'know, pleased to meet you." He picked up James' hand, pumping it firmly before dropping it with a sudden eye-widening of recognition. "Say, I know you! You said there was going to be a troll to fight!" he said accusingly to James.

"Rite of passage, mate," Sirius said in an undertone, draping an arm over the kid's shoulders. "Personally, I was told you'd have to sit down and take an exam." He shuddered at the thought. "Well, felicitations are in order- congrats, boyo, you're in Gryffindor, and we're the best."

"Not in Quidditch," Callie Bell pointed out.

James scowled. "That changes this year."

"Not in grades," she continued rather snidely.

Lily and Remus both frowned severely at her. Alice laughed, fluttering her hands dismissively and yet cheerily. "Just because the Ravenclaws have a reputation for cleverness doesn't make them the smartest."

"That's exactly what they're Sorted for, though. We're just the bravest."

"You asking for a transfer?" Sirius asked her brusquely.

"No."

"Then shut your trap."

Callie glared at him, then pouted. She was an odd duck, to James' mind. Her brother was a far more likeable character.

"Ignore her," James and Sirius chorused to the first year between them. "We all do," added Pete.

"Who are you gents, anyways?" Davy asked eagerly, looking at them approvingly.

James, turning a careful eye on the still-reading McGonagall, tapped himself, then began to point and mutter. "James Potter, the dark haired one's Sirius Black, that there's Remus Lupin, and this is Peter Pettigrew... "

Sirius grinned at Gudgeon in a very friendly way. No reaction to the Black name, meant he was Muggle born- he liked the kid all ready.

"And who are the ladies?" Davy said seriously, nodding his head downward. Alice tittered, drawing a sharp glance from a Gryffindor prefect.

"Oh, they're not ladies!" James scoffed a tad too loudly. He found five pairs of eyes suddenly fiercely focused on him. He ignored that. "They're just girls, not worth talking about."

"If the food was here yet, I'd throw something at ya," McKinnon said scathingly in her thick Irish accent.

"Food," said Sirius mournfully.

"Quiet, I can't hear the Sorting!" Callie hissed.

"Oh, like you're listening," James said, rolling his eyes.

"Llewellyn, Diomedes," called McGonagall.

A young, dark-haired boy with woeful features plunked himself on the stool without hesitation. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, meanwhile, had bolted to attention and stood up, hands over their hearts. They drew a great deal of stares.

"Ravenclaw!" yelled the hat, and the Prewetts went berserk.

"Llewellyn," Remus mused. "I've heard that name.

James had frozen, now he gripped Sirius' arm and hissed. "Do you know who that is? Do you know who that is? That's 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn's son- and he just went to Ravenclaw!"

"Dai Llewellyn," Remus muttered, shaking his head. "Slughorn must be having fits of ecstasy," he observed, but turning his keen eyes on the High Table, failed to spot the pretentious Potions professor at all. Puzzled, he looked about, trying to find him.

"The guy who got eaten by the Chimera a few years back?" Sirius wondered.

"No! Well, yes, but he played for the Catapults! Famously flew like a madman! Helped lead his team to victory in the European Cup sixteen years ago!"

"Not to mention got himself eaten pulling one of those stunts," Remus added, his gaze still flickering around.

"And his son just went to Ravenclaw!" James hissed, horrified.

"First years can't play," Peter reminded him.

"I'm thinking ahead," James retorted, softening his voice. "We need somebody good."

"I'll play," Davy volunteered. "But what's Quidditch? Is it like football?"

James and Sirius looked at him with abject horror, then both began to speak at once over the applause ringing out around them.

"See, there's five balls-"

"Seven players-"

"And there's three called Chasers-"

"Players, not balls, they play with the Quaffle-"

"Which is red and about the size of your head -"

"Sssh! There's no talking during the Sorting. You've even got Dumbledore glaring at you!" The headmaster, in fact, seemed to simply be staring merrily into space over the heads of the Gryffindor students, but nevertheless, the thought shook the speakers into silence. Lowering her voice, Lily Evans added scathingly, "Two kids just got into Gryffindor and you didn't even cheer. Now be quiet and be nice. And let poor little Davy sit near his fellow first years- how would you feel if some older students had isolated you?" Evans hissed.

"Pretty good, if it was an older student like me," James said smugly.

"In which case you never would have spoken with your three closest friends until locked into a dormitory with them?" Evans inquired innocently.

James considered. Turning away from Lily, he lowered his voice with a slightly embarrassed tint to his cheeks. "Gudgeon, switch seats with Peter and make nice with the other ickle firsties."

"But-" Davy began uncertainly.

"What?" James said impatiently.

Davy lowered his voice. "There's a ghost sitting over there."

"Oh, that's just Nearly Headless Nick," Peter told him.

"Nearly Headless?" said Davy, his voice rising. "How can you be nearly headless?"

"Ask him," Sirius said, clapping his shoulder as he eyed McGonagall rolled up her parchment and pulled the hat away, the Sorting finished.

"You're so rude, paying no attention at all. You don't even know the names of the new Gryffindors," Laurie Jewkes hissed, whirling on them from the other side of James.

"Maggie Muldoon, Hogan Stump, Barry Ollerton, Dirk Cresswell, Davy Gudgeon, Boniface Clagg, Wilhamina Murray, and Louise Grubbly," Sirius listed calmly. "Can we eat now? Oh, no, Dumbledore's going to talk," he complained.

The headmaster, beaming and wearing dark purple robes, was indeed standing to talk. His eyes twinkled across the hall at the students who waited sullenly for him to speak, drumming their fingers or with jiggling legs. There was some applause, and he raised his hands to quiet them down. Everyone fell silent.

"Don't worry," James mouthed to the panic-stricken and starving Davy Gudgeon. "He's only going to tell us to tuck in."

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before you are driven to distraction with nourishing sweetmeats and custards, I ask you pay heed to a few slight warnings."

This drew a few murmurs of surprise from some of the older students. Dumbledore, typically, was as eager as them to eat, but knowing his quirks, they swiftly fell silent as he continued sharply. "As always, the Forbidden Forest is off limits to students." He almost seemed to narrow his eyes behind his half-moon glasses at Sirius and James. "I would like to remind all students, once again, to beware the Whomping Willow- it does not take kindly to those who go near it."

"Whomping Willow?" Davy Gudgeon mouthed, face scrunched up in wonder.

"I also advise you all to stay away from the lake this year- try to avoid falling in it just this once."

"Wonder what that's about?" Sirius whispered to James. "Reckon the giant squid's gone manhunter?" His friend only shrugged.

Dumbledore continued, eyes dancing, as he let his eyes briefly pass over Remus and his friends once more. "I also wish to remind you that no one should be on Hogwarts grounds at night, and the village of Hogsmeade is off-limit except to those third-years and older who attend the weekend trips. Madam Pince, our librarian, has also sent a, ahem, friendly reminder that the Restricted Section of the library is off-limits without explicit permission from a teacher, and that there will be heavy fines if books are not returned on time and in the exact same condition they were taken in. Both the Gryffindor and Slytherin captains have asked me to remind you they will be holding tryouts. Gryffindor's will be held the afternoon of the Friday following this one, Slytherin's on that Saturday." He paused, folding his hands. "There have also been some alterations to our staff this year. Madam Pomfry, our nurse, who most of you, especially our Quidditch players, have gotten to know quite well, is retiring and passing on her title to her eldest daughter, Poppy, recently from St. Mungo's."

He indicated behind him, and a young, curvy woman in lime green robes with cinnamon hair stood up, blushing.

Sirius sat bolt upright. "Wow," he murmured. "I'm going to get hit on the head a lot this year, I think."

"Due also to my refusal to allow corporal punishment," and here Dumbledore's eyes hardened, "Apollyon Pringle, our caretaker, has retired."

Absolute, sheer delight sprinkled across the faces of Black, Potter, Lupin, and Pettigrew.

"'Bout time," Sirius hissed, "I've still got the marks from when the blaggard tanned my hide last year- and that was entirely your fault, James."

"Was not!" the boy with glasses hissed.

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"Was-"

"Quiet, both of you. You're acting like first years," Remus told them, and so proud where they of their new status that they both actually listened.

"His replacement," Dumbledore continued, "will be Mr. Argus Filch, who has already posted a list of Forbidden Items, which notably includes Stink Bombs, Luminous Balloons, and Squawking Squirming Squeaky Toys. Mr. Filch?"

An unnoticed dour figure in the back of the hall stepped forward with a slight incline of his head at Dumbledore and a leer that swept the Great Hall. Lean in an unhealthy seeming way, he wore ridiculously grimy brown robes and his features, including a drooping nose, mangy hair, and something of a stringy beard, were certainly no more attractive or even clean. He studied the students with narrowed, squinty eyes and a sour expression. He spoke up softly, and everyone in the hall, starving, hoped he wouldn't give a speech. "Don't forgot Mrs. Norris," he called in an hoarse rattle of a voice.

Great, thought James, an old bag, too. Just what we need. "Ah, yes," said Professor Dumbledore, smiling. "And his assistant, of course, Mrs. Norris- who you may have noticed on the floor near the Slytherin table."

Everyone jumped at that, a few of the new Slytherins onto their chairs as they looked around wildly. Eventually, they spotted her- a red eyed, mangy looking cat, not much more than a kitten, which meowed in an unpleasant way at the sudden noise. It tilted its head at them, eyes catching the candlelight and glowing eerily.

"A cat?" Peter said disbelievingly, shaking his head. "His assistant's a cat."

"Maybe it's an Animagus," Evans suggested to her friends.

"Ani- what?" asked James, having overheard.

"I hope none of you will give Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris a hard time during their first year," Dumbledore said sternly.

"Filch- that's an old Slytherin name," Sirius mused. "Why's he working as a caretaker?"

"Maybe he likes kids," Peter suggested skeptically.

"I'm thinking that's a 'no'," said Remus, who was busy watching James' hands rather than Filch. He was signaling to them, annoyed they couldn't seem to get his meaning. Giving up, he whispered in Sirius' ear, who then relayed a far simpler signal to the other two directly across.

Remus raised an eyebrow. "Now?" he murmured.

"Later it could mess up the food," Sirius responded softly, leaning forward.

Peter and Remus nodded at that reasoning, and Sirius began slowly to tinker with something James passed him.

"Finally, Professor Falstaff, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, has left due to concerns with his nerves and health. He is currently in St. Mungo's and has, for some reason, left a plea that none of you visit him."

"Great going, Potter, you killed the Potions master," said Evans, apparently unhappily but with a slight gleam in her eye.

James and Remus guiltily exchanged glances, which Alice Jones noticed with some consternation. Falstaff had stumbled, at the end of the previous year, upon a terrifying scene (involving one particular werewolf) that had split his already fragile nerves, not helped by all the pranks James and company had pulled on him throughout their first year.

"Professor Vonn Donn has kindly consented to serve as our Defense master for the following school year," Dumbledore announced, and the eyes of students zipped wildly around, looking for him but finding no new presence at the staff table. "He is currently being assisted by Professor Slughorn in an inspection of the castle grounds. For future reference, I would advise not walking up from his left side."

Sirius beamed. "Thank Godric, it isn't someone my father's had for dinner. Y'know, gents, I think this will be a good year," said Sirius, triumphant tones entering his voice as he pulled some candy out of his pocket. "Food!" he laughed quietly, passing one to James, Peter, and Remus.

"Oh, bubblegum," said Alice happily, holding out her hand, and Marlene McKinnon flashed a bright smile when she saw the cream-filled chocolate Peter was unwrapping. The first years stared at it as Dumbledore continued on, and even Lily, nonchalantly, couldn't help but let her green eyes drift to it.

Sirius looked around unhappily. "All right, you can have some," he grumbled, passing some pieces around huffily.

"Wouldn't take anything from you, Black," Evans said quickly, deciding to wait for the food and shooting a suspicious look at Sirius.

A moment later, Dumbledore paused in his brief announcement regarding dangers with some repairs to an old wing and stared at the Gryffindor table, as were many of the students. To her mortification, which turned her face a brilliant scarlet, a snort of laughter escaped from Lily as she looked about her companions, one of the few unaffected. Davy Gudgeon laughed delightedly at his friends, then more so when he realized it was happening to him as well.

Anyone who had taken the candy had a face that was rapidly turning a brilliant royal blue, not to mention cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk's. Callie looked horrified and buried her head, while the first years looked confused. But Alice laughed, a tinkling, merry sound, and encouraged Marlene, whose multiple freckles were rendered invisible by the blue of her face, to do the same. Laurie Jewkes was narrowly stopped from hexing Black with a swift kick from Evans under the table, who was barely restraining her laughter behind her twitching scornful face.

"Sorry for the interruption, sir. The antidote is one of the foods in the feast," James announced loudly, standing and bowing towards Dumbledore, proud of the fruits of his and Remus' summer 'work'.

"They just have to try them all," Sirius cackled.

The girls suddenly looked a bit more worried. It wasn't exactly possible to try every food at the feast- then again, it had to be something the boys knew had to be at the feast. The Great Hall, however, erupted with laughter- particularly from Hagrid, the friendly gamekeeper who had thwarted the efforts, particularly of James and Sirius, to enter the forest (but not every time).

"Typical," said Callie Bell, with a huff.

Evans was reassuring two of the first year girls, who looked frightened. "Don't worry- they're awful, pig-headed boys, but they wouldn't hurt you. I'll help you figure out which food it is, and Marlene and Alice will too, don't worry."

"Told you she called me pig-headed," James muttered, smirking at the blue faces around him and at the redhead whose face remained the original pink.

"They're not as smart as they look- oops, sorry, forgot they don't look smart," Alice added, her smile looking strange on her bright blue face and puffed cheeks.

"In that case," Dumbledore was saying in his oratorical voice, his lips twitching into a smile, "let the feast commence!"

"Mission accomplished," James said happily, as food appeared, rising from the tables.

"Fill up," Remus told Sirius, elbowing him. "We won't want to hit the kitchens until we know what we're up against with the new caretaker."

"I love house elves," Sirius cheered, "'cept Kreacher, he's evil, but I love the ones that can cook!"

"House elves?" Lily echoed. "Like the one Marlene has?" she asked, giving her friend a reproachful look.

The girl let out a sigh, making her face look all the more amusing in its picture of blue exasperation. "If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand and one times, Lil, she loves what she does," McKinnon groaned. "If Nessie wanted to leave, we'd let her."

"Nessie?" Maggie Muldoon, a blue-faced first year frantically sipping pumpkin juice and nibbling everything. She was Scottish, by her voice. "As in the kelpie in Loch Ness?"

"As in Guinness, the drink," Marlene informed her. Stared at strangely, she said, "What? Me da named her. She's been with us for years. James, tell her house elves like what they do."

"Sure. House elves like what they do," he said cheekily. "And don't look so surprised McKinnon's elf's named after an alcoholic beverage- she is Irish, after all."

"Watch yourself, Potter," Marlene scolded, waggling a fork at him in a manner about as menacing as a chattering squirrel shaking its furry first. He shot her an innocent look, marred by his own puffed cheeks which were stuffed with food.

"Yeah, Kreacher's only ambition is to serve Mum till she cuts his head off and sticks it on the wall like she did to his mother a few years back," Sirius offered.

Everyone paused. "That's horrible!" Alice cried at last.

"My family is the crème de le crème of Slytherin," he reminded her, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth as he lazily leaned back. "Remind me to tell you about the relative who tried to get laws passed for Muggle-hunting."

Lily, involuntarily, shuddered.

There was a short muttering among the first years, who elbowed each other and nudged until one amongst them spoke up. "You're a Black?" Hogan Stump declared in disbelief. "What are you doing in Gryffindor?"

The uncomfortably silence lasted only a split second. "Why does it matter what his last name is?" Davy Gudgeon wondered.

"Oh joy," the boy in question groaned, slinking down in his seat till it seemed he'd slide right under the table to avoid the curious stares of first years.

James, noticing his friend's distress, produced something from his robe pocket with a cheeky wink that cleared the cloud from his friend's face instantly. "Toss this under Snivellus' seat, it'll cheer you. Filibuster firework, brand new-"

"Black, don't you dare-" Lily began as she leaped upward and across to attempt to snag it.

Sirius, grinning, lit the firework with the tip of his wand.