Monday 6th December, 1976. Gryffindor Tower, Hogwarts.
James Potter stood lazily lounging in one of the red armchairs, in front of the fireplace. A beautiful crackling fire reflected in the lenses of his glasses, with their round, slightly crooked frames. They were hanging slightly to the right and James mechanically made the gesture of adjusting them straight onto his nose. But it was useless. After a few moments, they would be tilted again, as always.
It was a cold Monday evening, early December, and there was a tedious air in the Gryffindor common room. Most of the red-gold students had already retired to their dormitories. The few remaining were close to finishing their homework, yawning bored and visibly sleepy.
Except for James. He wasn't sleepy. A new nighttime adventure awaited him. Adrenaline kept him awake, waiting for his two friends, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew, with whom he would then sneak out to join Remus Lupin at the Shrieking Shack. That night a large full moon shone radiantly in the black sky.
James savoured the torpor of the flames, which pleasantly warmed his cheeks. From time to time, he heard female whispers squeak from behind his back, the insistent glances of a gaggle of fourth-year girls, strategically seated at a small table not far from the boy, lingering on the back of the talented Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
James had noticed them, out of the corner of his eye. He was pleased to see the girls giggling amongst themselves, as they gave him admiring and curious looks. He had always enjoyed the girls' attention.
With fake nonchalance, James Potter sank a hand into one of the pockets of his uniform and fished out a small Golden Snitch, snatched during training. Its wings, resembling those of a hummingbird, began to vibrate and flutter rapidly as soon as it was welcomed by the fresh air of freedom. The Snitch hovered in the air, from the boy's palm, and began to dart here and there, whizzing through the air with a buzz. It looked like a cunning insect, ready to flee. James, indulgent, pushed it away just a few centimetres, before quickly catching it again, with a firm, sure grip. He heard one of the girls let out an ecstatic clap of her hands. This encouraged the boy to repeat the gesture many more times: he released the Snitch, let it move away a little and catch it again, sometimes alternating the use of his hands. All the while, he sported a bored expression, as if the game was just any old pastime for him.
In fact, with the corner of his eye always on the alert, he was contentedly studying the reactions of the young girls who were witnessing that impromptu little show for the sole purpose of showing off. When these smiled filled with admiration, then lowering their eyes intimidated, but without ceasing to giggle, James felt his own ego swell overbearingly in his chest. Still feigning indifference, he ran his hand through his disheveled hair, ruffling it even more.
"Hey, Prongs! Fancy some company?" the mocking voice of his best friend, Sirius Black, caught James off guard. He had been so focused on strutting his stuff in front of the fourth years that he had not seen him coming. Sirius, for his part, seemed highly amused by the skit his partner had concocted.
"Or, perhaps the one you already have is enough for you?" observed Sirius, shooting an allusive glance at the small group of young girls, who had mysteriously stopped giggling all of a sudden.
James darkened slightly as he watched his friend sag lazily in the crimson-colored chair beside his own. Sirius had always been a handsome boy: tall, endowed with a rare and unintentional elegance, a thick, naturally neat head of raven hair, quite the opposite of James's perpetually unruly hair.
Sirius had his uniform in disarray-intentionally in disarray-with his shirt a little untucked at chest level, showing a carelessness that gave the boy an even more charming air.
James huffed barely perceptibly as he cast one last, disappointed glance at the small group of fourth-year girls: their gazes were totally fixed on Sirius, their expressions dreamy and their cheeks puckered with desire, ignoring James as if he had suddenly become invisible.
"I'm afraid it's not my company what they want," retorted James, caustically.
Sirius chuckled.
"Oh, I'm so sorry if I ruined your hunt, Prongs!" his friend bounced him, stretching his long legs toward the fire, squinting his gray eyes in a bored manner.
"Stags don't go hunting. They are the ones who are hunted." pointed out James, in a saccharine tone, insultedly shoving the golden flask back into the depths of his pocket. At that moment, he could have thrown it into the air, performed a double somersault, re-captured the snitch by landing on one foot, and it still would not have elicited the slightest effect. The mere presence of Sirius was capable of sending the entire female gender in the same room into raptures, overshadowing any other individual beside him. Attempting to show off now would have been totally futile. All the stares and sighing attention of the young girls were for Sirius.
Along with the golden snitch, James also hid a sudden surge of envy, of which he was immediately ashamed.
"Moony? Is she already at our HQ?" he whispered, changing the subject, alluding to the Shrieking Shack. Sirius nodded.
"Yes, Madame Pomfrey accompanied him ten minutes ago."
"And Wormtail?"
"He said he had to check on something- he didn't say what - and that he would be a little late." Sirius replied, unconcerned.
"Late? And did he tell you how long?" asked James, frowning. Full moon nights were the least opportune times to get lost in other commitments. Peter knew this well.
"No, Prongs, he didn't tell me," replied Sirius, laconically. "Don't get anxious. You'll see that he will reach us in time. I gave him the Map, anyway. He needed it so he wouldn't get caught after curfew." added young Black, stretching.
James clearly heard a few admiring sighs from behind his back.
"You're telling me we're without a partner and without Map? Great!" he commented, acidly.
"I told you not to worry -"
"You know I don't like snags or slowdowns like that when there's the - you-know-what!" grumbled James Potter, sternly.
"It'll be a matter of a few minutes, you'll see!" huffed Sirius, beginning to show impatience with his friend's complaints. "While we wait, tell a little - with Evans?" he asked, smiling sardonically.
James glowered at him in tralice.
"What do you mean?" he retorted, flaunting indifference.
"Have you abandoned the close courtship? The other day I saw you flirting with a Ravenclaw girl. And tonight you're putting on a show for the fourth years! Have you changed your strategy? Trying to make her jealous?" asked Sirius, with an air of complicity.
"No strategy at all. I'm simply broadening my horizons. I'm done with Evans." replied James, definitive.
"That's a good one!" Sirius stared at him in genuine amazement. "It's not like you to throw in the towel, Prongs! I can hardly believe it!" he added, chuckling.
"I know how to recognize a lost cause. Besides, I got tired of running after someone who considers me - what did she call me last time?"
"A narcissistic, arrogant blowhard?"
"Exactly."
"I didn't think you were so touchy." commented Sirius, amused.
"Well, there is to add that my main purpose with Evans was to blow it with that creep Snivellus. I understand they haven't spoken in months. So, by now I don't feel, as it were, the thrill of competition, of challenge. There's no taste anymore, if you know what I mean." explained James, with a slightly contemptuous expression painted on his face.
"In my opinion, yours is just an excuse. You've never forgiven her for comparing you to Snivellus, calling you equal to him." observed Sirius, caustically.
"I am nothing like Snivellus!" hissed James through clenched teeth.
An enigmatic grin suddenly appeared on Sirius' face; his gray eyes glittered in the light of the flames. In the meantime, the fourth-year girls had abandoned - reluctantly - their strategic location and fled to their rooms.Making sure no one was around to hear them, Sirius leaned toward James:
"This will cheer you up, Prongs," exclaimed the young Black, looking smug. "I've concocted a nice little joke for Snivellus. One that will make him lose the urge to put that big, greasy proboscis of his in the middle of our business!"
"What is it about?" asked James, whose attention was completely captured by the subject.
"Well you know he's been harboring suspicions about the nature of Moony and what we do during the nights of the full moon for months now. Well, I got really tired of his constant innuendoes and threats about how he wants to get us expelled, so today I sort of suggested a way for him to find the evidence he needs to affirm his assumptions."
James widened his eyes from behind his glasses, looking questioningly and a little worried.
"I told him how to block the branches of the Whomping Willow and how to reach the Shrieking -" tried to explain Sirius, but James did not let him finish.
"Have you lost your mind, Padfoot?!" he thundered, angrily. Sirius stared at him perplexed for a moment, not understanding why his friend did not share his enthusiasm for what he thought had been a nice ploy to make the hated Slytherin schoolmate pay.
"I did it to scare him a bit. So maybe he'll stop getting in our way and sticking his long nose in what doesn't concern him!" justified Sirius, lightly.
"Haven't you thought about Moony?" scolded James, fuming. "If Snivellus entered the Shrieking Shack, Remus would bite him instantly!"
"You'll see that wimp of a Snivellus will scamper off as soon as he hears a distant howl. And, by the way, he could use a good bite! Now that he's taken to being a Death Eater for school!"
"You can't be serious!" James stared at Sirius dumbfounded and angry. "Do you realize what he's risking?"
"Since when have you been so concerned about Snivellus, Prongs?" retorted Sirius, frowning.
"It's not Snivellus I'm worried about, it's Remus! Do you have any idea of the danger you put him in? If Snape is attacked by him turned into a werewolf, do you think he will keep quiet and quiet? Of course not, he would report the incident to the four winds! Remus would be expelled immediately -- all of us would be expelled! That's always been Snape's purpose, you know that too. He will certainly not miss the chance to grab the evidence he needs to prove his suspicions about us. He would jeopardize his own insulting life to throw us out of Hogwarts, or even Azkaban, I bet!" James spoke excitedly, his fists clenched and his cheeks burning with rage.
Sirius watched his feet doggedly, well determined not to meet his friend's accusing eyes. In fact, Sirius had to admit, he had not thought at all about the risks and possible consequences of the prank he had imagined. He just wanted to make Snape pay for all the trouble he was causing them in the last period with his constant hints about Remus Lupin's wolfish nature.
"With this neat stunt, Padfoot, you've offered Snivellus what he needs to ruin our lives, on a silver platter!" hissed James, slamming a fist against the armrest of the armchair.
Sirius huffed impatiently.
"All right, all right --I acted like an idiot, I admit it! But you see things too pessimistically, Prongs. I tell you again, Snivellus is a coward. He will run away without even approaching the entrance to the Shack." retorted Sirius, trying to downplay the seriousness of the situation.
"However, as soon as Wormtail is back, we will rush to the Whomping Willow to check the situation. That'll calm you down." added young Black, trying to quell James's boils of anger.
"By the way, how long does Wormtail take?" puffed the bespectacled boy, impatiently, feverishly drumming his fingers on the armrest. His mind was working fast, trying to come up with a possible contingency plan to resolve the matter.
Meanwhile, Peter Pettigrew still did not return, and James was getting more nervous every minute he spent doing nothing. He would have loved to discharge his anger by insulting Sirius and his stubborn impulsiveness, but he did not have the time. With each passing second, the risk of their expulsion became more and more plausible.
Finally, James sprang to his feet, unable to wait any longer.
"Enough! I'm going to the Shrieking Shack! I have to do something, I can't just sit here and do nothing. I have to go check it out!" he announced, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of the bag at the foot of the chair.
Sirius made to get up, convinced to accompany his friend, but James peremptorily blocked him.
"No. You stay here. You'll join me when Peter is back from his stupid evening duties too!" James abruptly ranted.
"But, what if something really should have happened? If I needed help?" grumbled Sirius, who hated to stay on the bench.
"If something were to have really gone wrong, it will be much better if as few people as possible are involved, don't you think? Besides, I can handle myself just fine!" retorted James, looking inflamed, typical of someone who doesn't want to hear any objections.
"So I have to sit here and do nothing?" complained Sirius, offended.
"Well, I think you've done enough for today, Padfoot," James chided him frostily.
In all those years of friendship, James could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he and Sirius had quarreled. However, this time his fellow adventurer had really gone too far, violating what for James was the supreme rule of their little group: never endanger a friend. For no reason whatsoever. Instead, Sirius, blinded by the resentment he had toward Snape, had not given the slightest consideration to the consequences that might spill over to Remus, who, more than anything else in the world, loathed his own werewolf nature precisely for fear that he might hurt someone. If Remus had bitten - or worse - Snape, no matter how much he detested or disliked him, he would never have forgiven himself. And James would never have forgiven Sirius for driving their partner into such danger.
"Stay here and wait for Peter!" she intimated to him one last time, before sprinting toward the hole protected by the Fat Lady's painting. He passed through the passageway, heedless of reproaches from the portrait.
"But do you have any idea what time it is, boy?" he heard her rant in a shrill voice behind his own back.
But James deliberately ignored her, quickly throwing the Invisibility Cloak on himself as he hurried down the stairs, which at that very moment were having a heap of fun changing positions. More than once the nimble young Gryffindor narrowly avoided tumbling down the steps, but that did not prevent him from swearing in a decidedly inelegant manner, outraging the ancient portraits hanging on the walls, who looked around suspiciously, unable to understand where those scurrilous words were coming from.
James reached the majestic oak doorway of the entrance hall in the blink of an eye and slipped out, plunging into the cold night, illuminated by the full moon, which for the first time in all those years of adventures at Hogwarts appeared to James's eyes as an ominous, trouble-bearing orb.
Cursing Sirius's indomitable impulsiveness, the young Gryffindor ran determinedly in the direction of the Whomping Willow. The mighty branches of the tree, which usually flailed madly at every movement near them, showed unnaturally still, as if petrified, and James guessed that someone - Snape, no doubt - must have recently pressed the secret knot, which prevented the plant's wrath from bearing down on unfortunate patrons.
Taking advantage of the Willow's quiet moment, James slipped, quick as a jackrabbit, inside the tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack; with any luck, he might have intercepted Snape before he reached the entrance to the abandoned dive bar. He uttered the spell Lumos, stretching his wand out in front of him to illuminate his steps, and walked as quickly as possible down the narrow, low passageway, despite the cramped space the tunnel offered.
With bated breath, James reached the secret entrance to the Shrieking Shack, but unfortunately there was not even a shadow of Snape. With growing dread, James guessed that the hated fellow Slytherin must have already entered the old abandoned house, eager for evidence that could frame the little group he so detested, but unaware of the danger he was in.
James Potter swallowed hard, his throat suddenly becoming dry, as he slipped stealthily inside the dark Shack. Safe and hidden beneath his Invisibility Cloak, the disheveled boy held his breath so as not to make the slightest sound. A mournful atmosphere and an ink-dense silence permeated the room, the contours of the furniture barely perceptible to the eye.
James strained his ears tightly, ready to pick up any sound or movement that might suggest the whereabouts of Snape - or Remus Lupin, who must have reached his full transformation by now. An almost unnatural stillness was the only response, and James didn't know whether it was a good sign or proof that tragedy had indeed occurred.
The boy moved slowly, with absolute caution, moving the illuminated wand, but concealed under his cloak with its owner, first to the right and then to the left, hoping to spot Severus Snape in some corner of the room, still unharmed.
And there he was, the boy with the hooked nose and floppy black hair, looking somewhat miserable, whom James had always targeted for mere personal taste, just to look better than someone else. The dark, slightly hunched figure of Severus Snape lurked a few feet away, and James watched him study with minute suspicion the marks and scratches that had torn through the chair covers and the wallpaper covering the walls. The work of Remus's wolfish fury, James noted with growing concern.
The young Gryffindor slowly advanced toward the Slytherin, and when he was close enough to him, he uncovered part of his body from the Invisibility Cloak, revealing his presence to Snape.
"Snape." whispered James behind his rival's back, abandoning for the first time the contemptuous nickname with which he usually addressed him.
The latter gasped in fright, taken by surprise. Snape turned sharply and squinted, for a moment, his liquid-black eyes as he caught sight of James Potter's head floating in midair in front of him, suspended in the darkness of the room, barely illuminated by the small glow emanating from the Gryffindor's wand, which he pointed at himself for recognition.
"Potter! What the hell is in your mind?" hissed Snape, through gritted teeth, rancorous.
"I don't have time to explain! You must come away at once. There is no time to waste, you have no idea the danger we are risking! Come on, get under the Cloak!" urged James, impatiently, without giving the Slytherin time to finish his sentence.
Potter himself was astonished at his proposal; never in his life would he have imagined inviting that creep of a Pivellus under his precious Cloak of Invisibility. But that was a matter of life and death - and expulsion - so he did not have the luxury of being picky. He extended an arm, to allow Snape to find room under the cloak. But the grim Slytherin remained motionless, squaring James with icy suspicion.
"I'm not falling for that, Potter! You and Black have certainly been up to something! I'm this close to finding out what you're hiding in this decadent dive bar, and I swear I won't miss the chance to have you expelled once and for all!" snarled Snape, backing away furiously.
"Don't be an idiot, Snivellus!" cursed James, angry and frightened at the same time.
"There is nothing going on, this is not a joke! We must leave at once!" the Gryffindor intimated to him, peremptorily.
But Severus Snape was well determined not to be persuaded.
"Forget it! I'm not going to be taken for a ride again by you --"
Once again, Snape's grudge-filled words were interrupted. But it was not James who silenced him. A howl, high-pitched and chilling, tore through the silence that until then shrouded the gloomy full-moon night.
A sudden terror gravitated swiftly in the faces of both Snape and Potter. James felt his own forehead bead with cold sweat. Heavy thuds were heard, footsteps belonging to something less than human, dragging ominously along the floor of the upper floor, heading relentlessly toward the stairs. Creaks of old, woodworm-worn wood reached the ears of the two boys on the lower floor. Remus Lupin, now transformed into a monstrous creature, was inexorably descending the steps that would lead him to the room where James Potter and Severus Snape were standing. Probably, the little whispered argument between the two rivals had attracted the werewolf's attention.
"What did I tell you! We can't stay here! Let's leave!" ranted James, almost begging.
But Snape didn't move, nor did he give any sign of responding; a strange gleam flashed, for a fleeting instant, in his liquid eyes. A cruel and victorious gleam.
Before James could guess the Slytherin's intentions, Snape quickly drew his wand and hissed a barely perceptible Expelliarmus, sending the Gryffindor's flying a few feet behind him, rolling under a gnawed cupboard.
Incredulous, James Potter didn't even have time to insult Snape, who had already swooped down on him, with confident snap, sneaking the Invisibility Cloak off him.
"Farewell, Potter!" whispered he, with malignant triumph, as he disappeared beneath the enchanted fabric, vanishing into the dense darkness of the room and leaving his long-hated companion alone and unarmed, abandoned to his inexorable fate. A monstrous fate, with wide jaws and sharp canines, that was about to come at him, snarling and barking, as he descended the creaking steps.
"Damn Snivellus!" cursed James under his breath, with hatred mingled with a now manifest terror, as he stepped back unsteadily, in the remote hope of spotting his wand. To no avail. James stumbled into a bumpy beam and fell ruefully - and noisily - to the ground, thus revealing to the biting and deadly creature, with whom until a few hours before he had laughed, joked and called one of his best friends, where he was.It was a matter of a second. Remus Lupin, snarling and gnashing his teeth with greedy voracity, lunged mercilessly at his companion, grabbing one of James's legs with his teeth. The latter couldn't hold back an excruciating cry of pain as he felt Remus' venomous canines sink into his flesh with impunity. The creature yanked him forcefully toward himself, ready to pour out its mawkish, rending fury on poor James Potter, who tried in vain to reason with the werewolf, calling his name.
"Moony! Remus! I beg you, stop! It's me, James!"
But there was of no trace of humanity, nor of Remus Lupin, in the creature's fierce yellow eyes.After all, he was a werewolf and now he only wished to bite his prey, who was flailing desperately beneath him.
***
James Potter wandered, breathing raggedly and laboredly, in the middle of the Forbidden Forest, barely dragging his leg torn by Remus's bite, like a dead weight, which by now no longer responded to his commands. The only thing James was able to feel was a deep, indescribable pain and the thick, sticky heat of his blood gushing copiously from his wound.
The werewolf's baleful teeth had torn flesh and muscle, mercilessly.
Other wounds, not as deep but adding to the severity of the young Gryffindor's condition, covered James' exhausted body.
He couldn't even explain how he had managed to free himself from his friend's biting grip and escape into the cold, damp forest. The trauma he had suffered clouded his mind, preventing him from remembering exactly what had happened. All the wounded boy's concentration was fixed on one goal: to get as far away from the Shrieking Shack as possible. Not so much to save himself-a futile endeavor, James observed with grim and despairing resignation, reviewing the wounds and bites he had received-but, rather, to prevent his now imminent demise from being attributed to Remus, or the creature he transformed into each month.
In fact, James Potter, once he had slipped out of the howling old hovel, had not made his way to the castle, but had gone as far as he could into the meandering dark woods.
Even in those last painful moments of his life, James could think only of how to safeguard the fate of his best friends: Remus Lupin and Sirius Black.
Snape must surely have rushed to Hogwarts, waking up all the teachers and the Headmaster, to announce what he had discovered about Remus. It would have revealed his lycanthropy, and if James' corpse had been found at the Shrieking Shack, torn apart by bites, the evidence would have been overwhelming. For Remus, there would have been no way out. Not even Dumbledore, who had done so much to enable the boy to attend school safely, could have done anything to prevent the inevitable: Remus Lupin would certainly have been banned from Hogwarts and, in all likelihood, even thrown into Azkaban, given the murder he had committed, albeit unintentionally.
And Remus would have welcomed such a fate, once he found out what he had done and, more importantly, to whom. He would have killed himself so as not to live with the remorse of killing one of his best friends.
Sirius's fate wouldn't have been so different: Snape would surely have declared the name of the instigator of the prank concocted against him, and Sirius would have been locked up in the ghastly wizarding prison along with Remus.
Death, expulsion and imprisonment. Snape's revenge for all the anguish and cruelty suffered by Potter and Black's little group would finally be accomplished.
But James would never allow such a fate to befall his best friends. If he had to die, he would die defending them.
Without a body, Snape would have had no hard evidence. It had been years since the rancorous Slytherin had been bragging about his assumptions about Remus Lupin's true nature, but no one had ever given him credit. It would be his word against Dumbledore's, who would surely come up with a plausible explanation that did not involve lycanthropy.
Or, at least, that was what James hoped for. It wasn't much, but he couldn't afford better.The young and exhausted Gryffindor staggered a few more yards, before slumping like an empty sack at the foot of a towering cypress tree, silhouetted majestically against the black night sky, in the midst of which a round full moon shone with white light, indifferent to the fate of the humans below.
With the last remaining energy, James called upon his Animagus skills and transformed himself into a large stag.
The lifeless body of an animal, torn apart by bites, would have raised no suspicions about the presence of a werewolf within the confines of Hogwarts. After all, the Forbidden Forest was teeming with dangerous and ravenous creatures, and deers used to be targeted by numerous predators.
In this way, James Potter's death would provide an opportunity for his friends not to be implicated in the affair.
Immersed in the damp night, the last one left to him, James sank into utter despondency and guilt. After all, he had to admit, it had been his fault that things had ended in that absurd way. Snape longed for revenge, to have his revenge for everything he had done to him over those years. He had been cruel and mean to Snape, James could not deny that. And for no real reason, either. It amused him to make him feel inferior and worthless.
A stupid game, aimed simply at making someone suffer, just because he wasn't worth much to him. And, now, all that unwarranted hatred had backfired on him.
You reap what you sow always reminded him of his father, when letters came home informing the Potter family of his son's behavior and punishments.
The big stag's hazel coloro eyes moistened; James also felt remorse toward his parents, who had always loved him beyond measure and he had done nothing but reciprocate by his disappointing conduct.
He would never see them again. He would leave his mother and father, now old, alone in that cruel world, to face a terrible war, now looming.
The boy, transformed into an animal, felt the despair grow stronger, devouring him from within.He did not want to die. Not like this. He wished for another chance.After all, it was unfair for him to die. He was still so young. He promised the black and mute night his commitment to become a better man. A wizard worthy of his power. He would use it to do good instead of taunting those who didn't suit him. He understood his mistakes. He begged to be spared. But the night remained silent.
James Potter felt his own strength waning, slipping away from him, inexorable. He no longer even had the energy to transform back into a human.
Death was coming, silent and terrifying. James could feel it creeping toward him. Though exhausted, he tried to fight back. He shook his horns, pawed, beating his still intact paw against the hard ground.
But death wasn't intimidated. There it was, looming menacingly over him. Who knows why it had come before James in the form of a large black cobra. The white light of the full moon bounced brightly off the thick scales. It hissed incomprehensible words at him. But James didn't care what death looked like. He wouldn't be easily taken in. He waved his horns again when something gentle brushed against his body torn by bleeding wounds.
Death had spoken, and this time the voice sounded human and feminine to him. To James it even sounded vaguely familiar. But he did not recognize it. What could it matter? Undaunted, he pawed and waved his horns once more, well determined to drive it away.
Then, something totally unexpected happened: a bright, iridescent glow copiously flooded the sight of the dying boy, who was astonished and a little moved to recognize the figure of a majestic shining deer now standing beside him. It looked like a patronus.
His patronus.
"See, you can trust me." the girl's voice, which James had mistaken for impending death, said softly. But it was not death.
James Potter could see her face clearly now and, at last, recognized her. He could not believe it. What was she doing in the Forbidden Forest that night?
James clung desperately to a new and unexpected hope, which had just flared up in his chest. He closed his eyes, relying on the girl's voice, which now hissed an unfamiliar chant.
All became dark and silent. The image of the dying deer, the patronus and the Forbidden Forest bathed in the light of the full moon disappeared.
In that dark nothingness, now only the voice of a girl could be heard, repeating the unknown whispers of an onyx-black cobra...
In the middle of the night, in Grimmauld Place Number Twelve, Alya Merope Black jolted awake.
The ancient chant of Koboro still intruded her mind, now fully awake.
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A/N:
I hope you enjoyed the change of Point of View.
I admit that I had fun putting myself in the shoes of the Marauders and hypothesizing the dynamics of the famous prank concocted by Sirius against Snape.
I also confess that it was not easy to describe a particular character like James Potter who, as I happened to read here and there on the web, always creates mixed reactions.
Personally, I have always considered James Potter a character with so much potential, but left underdeveloped in the original plot.
In this chapter (which is a bit of an early taste of what is to come later) I hope I have managed to describe him as I imagined him :)
Again, thank you for all the support, votes and comments you are leaving me. They mean so much to me, they really do!
Let me know what you think ;)