overshadowed

James Potter had always had a confident walk; if anything, it had only gotten worse as the years had gone by. The first day of classes had come to an end, and there was some time to spare before dinner. James wasn’t sure how he had managed to survive: nothing but professors droning on about syllabuses and expectations, as well as more than one professor separating James and Sirius the moment they had stepped into the classroom. His energy was pent up and in dire need of release; as proven by how quickly he was currently walking through one of the many paved courtyards Hogwarts had to offer. Though he might have seemed like a man on a mission the way he walking, James was on autopilot. Everything and nothing was running through his head at once as he walked. He certainly was not paying attention when he walked right into….

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, I am not chasing you around this castle all god damn day.” Lily called after the black kitten as she watched her speed off around the corner, and she found herself vaguely wondering how on Earth she’d managed to wind up in an involuntary game of hide and seek with her cat—whom, at the moment, had outsmarted Lily at every turn.

The cat had been a gift from her parents, they had bought her over the summer before Lily began her sixth year at school; her father had said they’d picked her because she was black and he had thought it awfully fitting, with Lily being what she was, and she suspected he thought himself oh so hilarious for it. But Lily had fallen in love with her immediately, regardless.

“Agatha—oh you are so bloody grounded—” She huffed out, momentarily cursing the third year who had entered the common room at precisely the wrong moment, leaving her opportunist cat free to make a break for it. “Hey—excuse me!” She called when she spotted someone at the end of the corridor, “Please can you grab a hold of that little menace for me!”

It takes a moment for Rabastan to catch up with what is going on, and he leans down to catch the cat a moment too late. The tail brushes his palms but otherwise his hands are uselessly empty. He looks to the older girl with a sheepish smile. “Would you like me to join the chase?”

“I really find those carriages awfully uncomfortable,” Althea complained, resting her hand on her lower back, as if to give herself more support. “I know that they have to get us to the castle en mass, but you would think that they’d find some better cushions over the past century. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep all night because of it. Does your back hurt, too?”

“Won’t you join me?” Pale hands tightly gripped the handle of a heavy-laden basket, the wicker weaving subdued red marks into her skin. No one ever mentioned just how tiresome an affair it was, going on a picnic; between clinking bottles of Superior Red, obscenely expensive cheeses, and jams and cream for spreading on scones, the basket proved rather heavy.

It’d been Amycus’ idea: spend this year immersing themselves among their peers, pretend to be your typical teenage mages so as to avert suspicion and throw everyone off their scent. Logically, it was a sound plan, but that didn’t make the execution any more pleasant. Still, she plastered on a friendly smile.

To no-one in particular, he remarks, “Can’t wait to watch those first years shit themselves while they’re Sorted.”