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Prongs

James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Lily all followed Bilius Weasley and the other Gryffindors out of the Great Hall and up many staircases. He brought them up, up, up - higher and higher into the castle - until they were in one of the great towers that they had seen from across the lake. "This is Gryffindor Tower," Bilius said, and, waving at a portrait on the wall, he added, "This is the Fat Lady and she is the only way in to the common room."

The portrait smiled at them serenely, fanning herself gently with a little wooden fan. "Unseasonably warm for September, isn't it?" she asked, then, "Bilius, you best be on good behavior this term, I've heard about Mr. Filch's cat."

“That was you?” James asked, laughing, “With the Filibuster Fireworks?” The three boys had laughed so hard they’d nearly cried when Dumbledore had mentioned the bit about the cat’s tail catching fire. Lily had frowned and muttered something about it being cruelty to animals, as though anyone could purposely set a cat’s tail on fire with a firework.

Bilius grinned in response to the accusation.

The Fat Lady sighed, "That grin is not very promising of a reform, Bilius!"

“We are in the presence of greatness, boys,” James said, grinning back at Bilius.

“Hail, hail,” Sirius joked.

“Okay, okay,” Bilius said, waving his hands for them to calm down as Sirius mimicked bowing down to him. He chuckled. “Gillyweed.”

At first, they thought he was talking nonsense or using some unknown slang they hadn’t yet learned, but then to the amazement of the first years, the portrait swung open like a door and revealed a short little hole through which to climb and a great room beyond.

"In you go," Bilius said, waving them in.

They climbed through, one by one, and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room. James looked around in excitement. It was exactly as he had always imagined it from listening to his dad's stories! Great cushy chairs and a huge fireplace with lamps and couches and pillows and brilliant paintings all about depicting the heroic lives of former house members. The others stared around, too, and even Lily, who had been rather sour since being sorted differently than she had hoped, seemed to light up with awe at the room.

"Hey Alice!" Bilius called a girl over and she came. Her hair was cut short and she had wide, beautiful eyes under a pair of tortoise shell spectacles, "Could'ja do me a good one and show Lily the girl's dormitories? She's the only girl first year for Gryffindor!"

Alice's eyes widened, "Wow! Good on you, you'll get your own room then."

"My own? Like... alone?" Lily sounded uncertain.

Alice smiled warmly, "C'mon, you'll be more excited once you see it!” She waved Lily towards herself and the two girls headed up the spiral staircase toward the girl’s dormitories, “You won’t be as lonely as you think, us second years are just down the stairs from your room and you can come down and hang out with us any time - I’ve got a subscription to Teen Witch this term, we do the hair styling charms together and --” They disappeared through the door at the top of the stairs.

Once Lily and Alice had departed, Bilius led Sirius, Remus, Peter, and James up the stairs on the opposite end of the common room up into the tippy-top of the Gryffindor tower. “Here’s your dormitory,” Bilius said, pushing open the very top room’s door wide and letting the boys in. “Your luggage should all be up here already.”

Indeed, it was. Each of the four poster beds in the room had a trunk at the foot of it, a night stand beside each held a lamp and on the wall nearest them was a row of desks, each bearing a copy of the First Years’ timetables on a parchment signed by Professor McGonagall.

“Well, lads, it’s late and I’ve got Ancient Runes first thing in the morning,” Bilius said. He picked up the time table closest to where he stood and waved it, “Your classes are on here. Be sure you leave a bit early as the staircases are a bit confusing at first. I’m on the second floor up from the bottom if you need me, just knock and, s’long as one of my roommates don’t kill you, I’ll be right out to help you in a jif!” Bilius waved and ducked out of the room.

The moment the door closed, James said, “That bloke could do with a comb.”

“Maybe we could pool our knuts and order him one for Christmas,” Sirius said with a laugh.

Remus was looking over their timetables. “Looks like that Professor McGonagall is the head of the house. “And she teaches Transfiguration.”

Sirius leaped over the bed to Remus, jumping on the mattress and making the springs screech with the weight of him. He snatched his own copy of the timetable off the desk. “Brilliant!” he bellowed, looking it over, “We’ve got flying lessons tomorrow afternoon!” As though that were the only thing the page said, he dropped it onto the desk and dropped down to his knees before his trunk.

“F-flying?” stammered the twitchy Peter Pettigrew from near his bed, where he was pulling on a pair of awful blue pajamas that made his rounded figure look like an elderly man. “Already? Isn’t flying hard?”

“Haven’t you ever flown before?” James asked, looking up from where he was stowing Bubo’s empty owl cage into a closet in the corner.

Peter shook his head.

“I haven’t either,” confessed Remus, “Too close to muggle residences. We used brooms for - you know, sweeping.”

James looked shocked. “What a waste of a perfectly good broom!” he exclaimed. He paused then, horrorstruck, “Wait. Haven’t you ever played Quidditch?”

Peter and Remus both shook their heads.

“Bloody hell!” James exclaimed.

“I’ve played,” Sirius said from the floor, where he was pulling stuff out of his trunk and chucking it down, looking for his pajamas. “With my cousins. I’m not great at flying, but it’s not that hard, really. The more nervous you are about it the harder it gets.”

“I’ll be a total failure, then,” Peter lamented as he crawled into his bed.

“I’ve got my own broom at home,” James said, ignoring Peter. “I couldn’t bring it as it’s against the rules, but I’ve been flying practically since before I could walk. Dad was on the Gryffindor team when he was here at Hogwarts. He played Keeper. We played loads just one on one, chucking a quaffle around and sometimes we’d use a muggle golf ball and catch it like it was a snitch. I’m really good. Not to brag…”

Remus snorted. “Sure sounds like bragging to me.”

“So are you trying out for the team, then?” Sirius asked.

“Of course,” James replied. “I plan to be the youngest seeker Gryffindor’s ever seen!” He was standing on his trunk now, mocking catching an invisible snitch from the air.

Peter Pettigrew shook his head from his bed, where he’d pushed the blankets to the foot and was using just the sheets for cover. “You can’t try out ‘til next year,” he said, “First years aren’t allowed.”

“There goes that plan,” Sirius said, grinning up at James.

“I’ll just sneak out onto the pitch for try outs and by the time they know I’m a first year, they’ll have seen me play; they won’t be able to kick me out! They’ll have to let me onto the team, I’m that good,” James voice lilted arrogantly.

“Wow,” Remus laughed, “Careful when you’re walking around James that you don’t hit anything sharp with that humongous ego of yours - it might pop.”

James grinned, “It’s not a big ego if it’s true, mate.”

Sirius laughed, too, “Well we will see tomorrow when you get on a broom.”

“That’s right - you will!” James flopped himself onto the bed, putting his arms up behind his head. He let out a sigh. “Can you believe we’re finally here at last?” he asked dreamily, beaming up at the canopy of his bed.

Sirius looked up, “Not even a smidge,” he answered. Finally extracting his pajamas, he shoved the rest of his stuff back into his trunk in an even messier pile and closed the lid, which stayed half open, the sleeve of a robe hanging out over the edge. “I’ve been thinking I’d be in Slytherin for all this time, ever since I was old enough to say the word Slytherin! To be in Gryffindor --” he shook his head. “I won’t believe it even in our seventh year.” He chuckled. “Mother ought to be sending me a howler about it tomorrow, I reckon.”

Remus was still looking over their schedules. “I reckon my mum is just happy I’ve a chance at coming to Hogwarts,” he said.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Sirius asked, looking over at Remus as he tugged his pajamas on over his head.

Remus shrugged awkwardly and looked back down at the schedule. “We’ve got Charms first thing in the morning with a Professor Flitwick.”

“That’s the little short guy that was up at the teacher’s table beside Professor McGonagall,” James said knowledgeably, his voice sleepy.

“After that we have Transfiguration, lunch, then the flying lessons,” Remus said, summarizing their day.

James yawned loudly, “That makes me bloody tired just thinking of it all.”

Sirius climbed into bed, “Me, too.”

Peter was snoring already. They’d all turned off the lamps next to their beds, except Remus, who was standing by the desk still. He put down the timetable, tugged his pajamas from his trunk quickly, and went over to turn off his lamp before tugging on the pajamas so that none of them could see the scars on his shoulder.