You are James Potter. Everything can change, but nothing truly will.
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Hogwarts Express
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Rule 6: Acceptable Content on SV - Underage Sexual Content
You sit up, panting, clutching the sheets. They are soaked in sweat and … something else. You vividly remember the dream. The same dream you have had three nights in a row now. Her hair, Gryffindor red, those killing curse eyes, suffocating you with their beauty. Those thick, plump lips. Her laugh, sweeter than any ice cream from Florean's or any candy from Zonko's. And now, you remember the other parts of the dream. Her gorgeous moans, (how could anyone be so perfect), her face glistening with sweat, and dammit you were fucking hard. How someone who hated you so much had such an effect on you, you didn't know. All you knew was that she was gorgeous, and that she would never bloody give you the time of day. "Fuuuuuck I need a bloody wank." You muttered, throwing the sheets off of your sweat-soaked body, and walking to the bathroom. "Or a cold shower." You say after noticing the time. It is the day of the train ride to Hogwarts, the day where your
-[ ] Fourth Year Begins (Lily hates you, the Death Eaters haven't truly risen yet, and you don't need to worry about studying. The joys of youth. NO MARAUDERS MAP, NOT ANIMAGUS)
-[ ] Fifth Year Begins (OWLs are this year, and your Quidditch Captain. Have fun doing anything outside of that. Oh and Lily still hates you. NO MARAUDERS MAP, HAVE STARTED ANIMAGUS)
-[ ] Sixth Year Begins (You and Lily aren't quite enemies any more, but you're definitely not friends. No OWLs, but all the classes you are taking are a lot more work. Will be a vote next turn on which classes you are taking. MARAUDERS MAP USABLE, ANIMAGUS)
You step out of the shower, running your hand through your hair and tousling it. As you examine yourself in the mirror, you hear your mum call "Jamie, come down for breakfast. I made you scones and some tarts." "Coming mum." You hurriedly throw a pair of robes on, and bounce down the steps. "Mum, you know you're getting too old to be getting up this early and doing this much cooking. Why don't you just let the house elves do it?" "Firstly Jaime, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full, and secondly, I enjoy cooking for you. It is the last time I'll see you before Yuletide holidays." "I guess sho mom." You say, swallowing the last bite of tart. "When are we going to get Sirius?" You ask. "As soon as you're ready. I'm not going though. They need me at St. Mungo's. Something about a minor outbreak of dragon pox." "So just me and Dad?" "Yes, I suppose so. Try not to get in too much trouble with Sirius this year, ok dear? I don't think my heart can handle many more letters from McGonagall." "I'll try Mum." You know full well that you are going to do no such thing. You already have plans for the first prank of the year, where the Marauders, as you have taken to calling yourself (After you overheard Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, and Slughorn complaining about "that marauding band of pranksters") are going to
-[ ]Smuggle Fireworks into the Great Hall, and shoot them off in the House's symbol every time the Sorting House sorts a student.
-[ ]Smuggle potions to the House elves, with instructions to slip it into all of the students' drinks. The potion will come into effect once everyone has drunk it, and will turn their heads into the heads of their house's animal. (Excepting yours truly and a few other students.)
-[ ]Sneak into the kitchens and place an enchantment on all of the plates so that once someone tries to eat from them, they'll scooch away, and eventually fly away. (Excepting yours truly and a few other students.)
-[ ]Once everyone is sorted, the tables and benches will all start flying, and will stay in the air until the end of the meal, at which point they will turn into slides and let everyone down.
Merlin, you can't wait for it to go off. You can already imagine the reactions of the teachers. The resigned sorrow of Minnie, the quiet pride of Dumbledore, the glee of Slughorn as he watches two members of his 'Slug Club' succeed, the apoplectic fury on Filch's face, and the sigh on Flitwick's face. Oh, it would be glorious. But first, you need to get to Hogwarts. As you push off from the table, your dad comes out of your parents room. "Let's go James. We need to be out by quarter to 11." "Yes Dad, I know. I've done this before." You jog up the stairs, flick your wand at the trunk, and levitate it behind you. "You know, when I was your age we carried our trunks by the handle. We didn't levitate them." "Next you'll tell me you guys didn't have brooms and had to portkey everywhere." "Just get to the floo fire. I'm not going to argue with my teenage son on how old I am." You follow him to the flooplace, before letting your trunk drop, and rushing to the kitchen. "What'd you forget this time?" Your father resignedly says. "I need to grab some snacks for Sirius. I've been getting them ready all summer." "Are they going to hurt him?" "Nnnnooo?" You say hesitantly. "Make sure you have the antidotes." You don't even deign to answer that one. Who does he think you are, some kind of amateur? As you stuff the packets of candies in your robe pockets (what, some of the gummies don't do anything. And they all come with some antidote serum. You're going to be rich off of these, you can feel it), you surreptitiously grab some packs of Muggle Cigaretters. Or maybe they were Cigarettels. Eh, doesn't matter. These supposedly cured your stress, which would be useful in some of your escapades. Or just for cooling off after tests. "Let's go. We're going to be late if you keep on standing around, young man." "Yes Dad." You rush over to the fire place, pockets full of candy and Cigarreteters. As you pick the trunk up, and step in, your father throws the floo powder, and the world goes dark.
You step out of the fireplace moments later, in the drawing room of the Black manor home in the Yorkshire Dales. Your face splits in an ear-to-ear grin as you see Sirius, dressed in his finest robes (as mother insists he has told you far too many times), with his trunk sitting on the floor behind him. "Heir Potter." He greets, with a formal tone and a bow. You bow just as deeply, no shallower, for no house is higher than the Blacks other than the Pendragons, and House Emrys, and no deeper, for your house is on equal standing with the Blacks. "Heir Black. I trust you are ready to depart?" You answer. "Aye. I must say farewell, but I shall be with you in a moment." "Very well. You may say farewell, but remember, we must leave soon." He rushes back into the dining room of the manor, and you hear some stilted, hurried good byes. He then briskly walks back into the drawing room (Mother Black must have lectured him on not running because it is 'unbecoming of a noble heir such as yourself') and wordlessly hurls Floo powder into the fireplace. "After you, my gracious hosts." He says in a faux jovial tone. Your father takes his words at face value and steps into the roaring green flames, disappearing with a hiss. You follow. As you calmly walk from the fireplace, your father catches your attention. "It's getting tougher for Sirius at home. I want you to keep an eye on him. Keep him distracted from anything going on at home and in Britain. If it means I get incessant letters from the school about detentions and such, so be it." He whispers. "Yes father." You say. Then he sees Sirius walking toward us, and his demeanor brightens in an instant. "Sirius, my boy. Make sure that James doesn't get in too much trouble? And help him with the ladies, ok? I know that with the rat's nest he calls stylish he most certainly needs help." "Hey, I take offense to that! The ladies love my hair." "Not the one you obsess over though." Sirius said in a sing-song tone. "Oh bugger off you prat." Laughing, the two of you make your way to your train car.
"So, what'd uncle Charlus talk to you about?" Sirius asks after the two of you slump into opposite seats in the compartment. "The same speech as always. Stay out of trouble, don't get too many detentions. Same thing as the past few years." The two of you sit in comfortable silence until a small, mousy boy opens the door to the compartment. His face is covered in unseemly acne, and his nose is too big for his face, and crooked otherwise. His mother is hovering behind him, and positively screeches "Oh look at my darling Pete! All grown up, too old to hug and kiss his mommy goodbye. So adorable! Petey, come here, come to mommy, let mommy give you a big smoochy smooch for good luck this year! This is the last time I'm seeing you until Christmas, and you mustn't forget to write me daily. Please Petey, come give mommy a kiss!" Peter sets his trunk down, and turns around. Surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one sees, he goes to his mother and gives her a chaste peck on the cheek, before hurriedly trying to extricate himself. His mother clings on, wailing and wiping snot and mucus on his shoulder as she cries. Finally he is able to pull himself away, and you laugh at the pure horror on his face. "You've got a little something there…" You barely manage to choke out as you double over laughing while pointing at the shoulder that is covered in mucus. Sirius is roaring with laughter, saying something which is vaguely understandable as "That's the only kiss he'll get all fucking year!" This just sends you into even more laughter, while Peter turns a brighter and brighter red.
A quiet voice cuts through the peals of laughter, saying "Much as I enjoy watching you two look like absolute fools, I think you've embarrassed our poor Peter enough." "MOONY!" Sirius yells, running over to him and placing him in a headlock. "Ah, how I've missed our studious young man." "I was almost worried you weren't coming this year. I mean Remus Lupin, the last of the Marauders on the Hogwarts Express? Who ever heard of such a thing?" You say. "Can we not call ourselves such a stupid name? It's bad enough that you guys call me bloody Moony, but with that dumb nickname, everyone knows who did our pranks." "Speaking of pranks," You interject, "Everyone has their equipment correct? We're all ready?" "Yes we are. Our greatest opening feast prank yet is almost here boys. Are we ready?" Sirius chimes in. "Aye sir. We are ready and willing." Peter, ever the hangers-on says. You love that kid to death (and isn't that weird to call him a kid when he's your age. But with everyone else's growth spurt, someone had to be left behind in their adolescence, and that someone was Peter.), but he can get so annoying with his yes-man attitude. Merlin, it's like nobody ever taught him how to think for himself! (which has its uses) Finally, the reunion is finished, and you settle down for a game of exploding snap with Sirius and Peter to pass the time, while Remus pulls out the Prophet and starts filling out the Magical Symbols Game, (or the Runic Balderdash Gonzaga as you and Sirius dubbed it after attempting it for yourself. Moony said you called it that because 'Your unsophisticated minds could never hope to comprehend the glory that is the Magical Symbols Game') The rest of the train ride is uneventful, and passes by quite quickly. In no time, you are at Hogsmeade station, and you levitate your trunk out behind you.
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AN: Finally, the first chapter of one of the two pet projects that have been nagging me for weeks is finished.(The other is a UNSC Planquest, set at the beginning of the Human-Covenant War, just after Harvest falls) In case you couldn't tell, you are James Potter, and you have the chance to change everything. Have fun, and good luck, because it will not be easy.
-[ ] Fourth Year Begins (Lily hates you, the Death Eaters haven't truly risen yet, and you don't need to worry about studying. The joys of youth. NO MARAUDERS MAP, NOT ANIMAGUS)
-[ ] Fifth Year Begins (OWLs are this year, and your Quidditch Captain. Have fun doing anything outside of that. Oh and Lily still hates you. NO MARAUDERS MAP, HAVE STARTED ANIMAGUS)
-[ ] Sixth Year Begins (You and Lily aren't quite enemies any more, but you're definitely not friends. No OWLs, but all the classes you are taking are a lot more work. Will be a vote next turn on which classes you are taking. MARAUDERS MAP USABLE, ANIMAGUS)
You step out of the shower, running your hand through your hair and tousling it. As you examine yourself in the mirror, you hear your mum call "Jamie, come down for breakfast. I made you scones and some tarts." "Coming mum." You hurriedly throw a pair of robes on, and bounce down the steps. "Mum, you know you're getting too old to be getting up this early and doing this much cooking. Why don't you just let the house elves do it?" "Firstly Jaime, how many times do I have to tell you not to talk with your mouth full, and secondly, I enjoy cooking for you. It is the last time I'll see you before Yuletide holidays." "I guess sho mom." You say, swallowing the last bite of tart. "When are we going to get Sirius?" You ask. "As soon as you're ready. I'm not going though. They need me at St. Mungo's. Something about a minor outbreak of dragon pox." "So just me and Dad?" "Yes, I suppose so. Try not to get in too much trouble with Sirius this year, ok dear? I don't think my heart can handle many more letters from McGonagall." "I'll try Mum." You know full well that you are going to do no such thing. You already have plans for the first prank of the year, where the Marauders, as you have taken to calling yourself (After you overheard Flitwick, Sprout, McGonagall, and Slughorn complaining about "that marauding band of pranksters") are going to
-[ ]Smuggle Fireworks into the Great Hall, and shoot them off in the House's symbol every time the Sorting House sorts a student.
-[ ]Smuggle potions to the House elves, with instructions to slip it into all of the students' drinks. The potion will come into effect once everyone has drunk it, and will turn their heads into the heads of their house's animal. (Excepting yours truly and a few other students.)
-[ ]Sneak into the kitchens and place an enchantment on all of the plates so that once someone tries to eat from them, they'll scooch away, and eventually fly away. (Excepting yours truly and a few other students.)
-[ ]Once everyone is sorted, the tables and benches will all start flying, and will stay in the air until the end of the meal, at which point they will turn into slides and let everyone down.
Merlin, you can't wait for it to go off. You can already imagine the reactions of the teachers. The resigned sorrow of Minnie, the quiet pride of Dumbledore, the glee of Slughorn as he watches two members of his 'Slug Club' succeed, the apoplectic fury on Filch's face, and the sigh on Flitwick's face. Oh, it would be glorious. But first, you need to get to Hogwarts. As you push off from the table, your dad comes out of your parents room. "Let's go James. We need to be out by quarter to 11." "Yes Dad, I know. I've done this before." You jog up the stairs, flick your wand at the trunk, and levitate it behind you. "You know, when I was your age we carried our trunks by the handle. We didn't levitate them." "Next you'll tell me you guys didn't have brooms and had to portkey everywhere." "Just get to the floo fire. I'm not going to argue with my teenage son on how old I am." You follow him to the flooplace, before letting your trunk drop, and rushing to the kitchen. "What'd you forget this time?" Your father resignedly says. "I need to grab some snacks for Sirius. I've been getting them ready all summer." "Are they going to hurt him?" "Nnnnooo?" You say hesitantly. "Make sure you have the antidotes." You don't even deign to answer that one. Who does he think you are, some kind of amateur? As you stuff the packets of candies in your robe pockets (what, some of the gummies don't do anything. And they all come with some antidote serum. You're going to be rich off of these, you can feel it), you surreptitiously grab some packs of Muggle Cigaretters. Or maybe they were Cigarettels. Eh, doesn't matter. These supposedly cured your stress, which would be useful in some of your escapades. Or just for cooling off after tests. "Let's go. We're going to be late if you keep on standing around, young man." "Yes Dad." You rush over to the fire place, pockets full of candy and Cigarreteters. As you pick the trunk up, and step in, your father throws the floo powder, and the world goes dark.
You step out of the fireplace moments later, in the drawing room of the Black manor home in the Yorkshire Dales. Your face splits in an ear-to-ear grin as you see Sirius, dressed in his finest robes (as mother insists he has told you far too many times), with his trunk sitting on the floor behind him. "Heir Potter." He greets, with a formal tone and a bow. You bow just as deeply, no shallower, for no house is higher than the Blacks other than the Pendragons, and House Emrys, and no deeper, for your house is on equal standing with the Blacks. "Heir Black. I trust you are ready to depart?" You answer. "Aye. I must say farewell, but I shall be with you in a moment." "Very well. You may say farewell, but remember, we must leave soon." He rushes back into the dining room of the manor, and you hear some stilted, hurried good byes. He then briskly walks back into the drawing room (Mother Black must have lectured him on not running because it is 'unbecoming of a noble heir such as yourself') and wordlessly hurls Floo powder into the fireplace. "After you, my gracious hosts." He says in a faux jovial tone. Your father takes his words at face value and steps into the roaring green flames, disappearing with a hiss. You follow. As you calmly walk from the fireplace, your father catches your attention. "It's getting tougher for Sirius at home. I want you to keep an eye on him. Keep him distracted from anything going on at home and in Britain. If it means I get incessant letters from the school about detentions and such, so be it." He whispers. "Yes father." You say. Then he sees Sirius walking toward us, and his demeanor brightens in an instant. "Sirius, my boy. Make sure that James doesn't get in too much trouble? And help him with the ladies, ok? I know that with the rat's nest he calls stylish he most certainly needs help." "Hey, I take offense to that! The ladies love my hair." "Not the one you obsess over though." Sirius said in a sing-song tone. "Oh bugger off you prat." Laughing, the two of you make your way to your train car.
"So, what'd uncle Charlus talk to you about?" Sirius asks after the two of you slump into opposite seats in the compartment. "The same speech as always. Stay out of trouble, don't get too many detentions. Same thing as the past few years." The two of you sit in comfortable silence until a small, mousy boy opens the door to the compartment. His face is covered in unseemly acne, and his nose is too big for his face, and crooked otherwise. His mother is hovering behind him, and positively screeches "Oh look at my darling Pete! All grown up, too old to hug and kiss his mommy goodbye. So adorable! Petey, come here, come to mommy, let mommy give you a big smoochy smooch for good luck this year! This is the last time I'm seeing you until Christmas, and you mustn't forget to write me daily. Please Petey, come give mommy a kiss!" Peter sets his trunk down, and turns around. Surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one sees, he goes to his mother and gives her a chaste peck on the cheek, before hurriedly trying to extricate himself. His mother clings on, wailing and wiping snot and mucus on his shoulder as she cries. Finally he is able to pull himself away, and you laugh at the pure horror on his face. "You've got a little something there…" You barely manage to choke out as you double over laughing while pointing at the shoulder that is covered in mucus. Sirius is roaring with laughter, saying something which is vaguely understandable as "That's the only kiss he'll get all fucking year!" This just sends you into even more laughter, while Peter turns a brighter and brighter red.
A quiet voice cuts through the peals of laughter, saying "Much as I enjoy watching you two look like absolute fools, I think you've embarrassed our poor Peter enough." "MOONY!" Sirius yells, running over to him and placing him in a headlock. "Ah, how I've missed our studious young man." "I was almost worried you weren't coming this year. I mean Remus Lupin, the last of the Marauders on the Hogwarts Express? Who ever heard of such a thing?" You say. "Can we not call ourselves such a stupid name? It's bad enough that you guys call me bloody Moony, but with that dumb nickname, everyone knows who did our pranks." "Speaking of pranks," You interject, "Everyone has their equipment correct? We're all ready?" "Yes we are. Our greatest opening feast prank yet is almost here boys. Are we ready?" Sirius chimes in. "Aye sir. We are ready and willing." Peter, ever the hangers-on says. You love that kid to death (and isn't that weird to call him a kid when he's your age. But with everyone else's growth spurt, someone had to be left behind in their adolescence, and that someone was Peter.), but he can get so annoying with his yes-man attitude. Merlin, it's like nobody ever taught him how to think for himself! (which has its uses) Finally, the reunion is finished, and you settle down for a game of exploding snap with Sirius and Peter to pass the time, while Remus pulls out the Prophet and starts filling out the Magical Symbols Game, (or the Runic Balderdash Gonzaga as you and Sirius dubbed it after attempting it for yourself. Moony said you called it that because 'Your unsophisticated minds could never hope to comprehend the glory that is the Magical Symbols Game') The rest of the train ride is uneventful, and passes by quite quickly. In no time, you are at Hogsmeade station, and you levitate your trunk out behind you.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
AN: Finally, the first chapter of one of the two pet projects that have been nagging me for weeks is finished.(The other is a UNSC Planquest, set at the beginning of the Human-Covenant War, just after Harvest falls) In case you couldn't tell, you are James Potter, and you have the chance to change everything. Have fun, and good luck, because it will not be easy.
Oh boy yeah I can see no first second or third years in here
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Plan: Fourth Year Firebrand
-[X] Fourth Year Begins (Lily hates you, the Death Eaters haven't truly risen yet, and you don't need to worry about studying. The joys of youth. NO MARAUDERS MAP, NOT ANIMAGUS)
-[X]Smuggle Fireworks into the Great Hall, and shoot them off in the House's symbol every time the Sorting House sorts a student.
-[X] Fourth Year Begins (Lily hates you, the Death Eaters haven't truly risen yet, and you don't need to worry about studying. The joys of youth. NO MARAUDERS MAP, NOT ANIMAGUS)
-[X]Smuggle Fireworks into the Great Hall, and shoot them off in the House's symbol every time the Sorting House sorts a student.
Character Sheet
New
Before I forget, here's the Character Sheet
JAMES POTTER
_______ YEAR
_______ Transfiguration
_______ Charms
_______ Herbology
_______ Potions
_______ DADA
_______ Quidditch
_______ Care of Magical Creatures
_______ Arithmancy
_______ Ancient Runes
_______ Social
_______ Dueling
These are your skills. Depending on the year, and the studying, and the events, you will have a chance to get better. You'll have a boost in Quidditch, Transfiguration, Social and Dueling, as well as the ability to learn faster than someone like Pettigrew. (Because every source in Canon points to James and Sirius being prodigies, while Remus used hard work, and Pettigrew hardly worked)
JAMES POTTER
_______ YEAR
_______ Transfiguration
_______ Charms
_______ Herbology
_______ Potions
_______ DADA
_______ Quidditch
_______ Care of Magical Creatures
_______ Arithmancy
_______ Ancient Runes
_______ Social
_______ Dueling
These are your skills. Depending on the year, and the studying, and the events, you will have a chance to get better. You'll have a boost in Quidditch, Transfiguration, Social and Dueling, as well as the ability to learn faster than someone like Pettigrew. (Because every source in Canon points to James and Sirius being prodigies, while Remus used hard work, and Pettigrew hardly worked)
[X] Plan: Fourth Year Firebrand
- Location
- UK
- Pronouns
- He/Him
If I may offer a small piece of constructive criticism: When one person stops talking and another person starts speaking instead, it is generally considered a good idea to start a new line to help readers notice when that happens more easily.
Yeah, constructive criticism is always welcomed in my quests. That also reminds me to say that the vote is closed, and Plan Fourth Year Firebrand wins.
- Location
- United States
cool idea. sad I didnt find this sooner.
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