The long house tables in the Great Hall were bustling with chatting people the morning after the sorting. Old friends from other houses ran and said hi to each other, heads of houses distributed schedules, and first years stared around at everything in awe. James Potter, however, was not one of those first years. His dad had told him a lot about the Great Hall, so he knew what he'd expect when the plates filled with food suddenly, or when the floating candles seemed to light themselves, or when the ceiling above reflected the stormy weather thundering outside. But that wasn't why James wasn't gaping in awe. James was on a mission.
The mission? Sirius Black.
The two had met on the train to Hogwarts, and bonded instantly. James had been overjoyed when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor with him, and Sirius seemed to have been as well, but that morning when James had jumped on Sirius's bed to wake him up for breakfast, Sirius had looked decidedly ill. He hadn't explained why no matter how many times James asked, so James had made it his mission to cheer up his new friend as much as possible.
That was why, while all the other first years gaped and talked about what the classes were going to be like, James chattered about everything he could possibly think of, filling Sirius in on all the details James knew about the teachers, like how his dad knew the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher personally, having worked together at the ministry at one point. Finally, about halfway through breakfast, James recognized that his words were having no effect on Sirius, who was nodding and seeming to listen while eating his way through his fourth piece of toast, but whose eyes were slightly glassy and staring into the distance.
"Okay, what is it?" James asked finally. "You look like you're going to throw up."
"'S nothing," Sirius muttered.
James folded his arms. "It sure doesn't look like nothing."
Just then, there was a loud fluttering sound, and James heard someone shout, "It's the mail!" Looking up, James saw a swell of owls pouring through an open window and into the Great Hall, carrying letters and packages. James's family owl, Huron, landed with a thunk, delivering a package James knew would contain a letter from his mum and dad, and loads of sweets to share with his new friends in his dorm room. "Look, mate," he said, diving into the package and tossing Sirius a chocolate frog. "For you!" He paused when he took in Sirius's face, which was set and glaring at something.
"Here it comes," Sirius muttered. His eyes were fixed on a great grey owl swooping towards them. As it got closer, James saw that the letter tied to its foot was…
"Oh," James said. It was a howler. James had never seen a howler before, but he'd heard about them, and heard that they were no picnic.
'Yeah," Sirius said grimly.
"Maybe… maybe it's not for you," James suggested. Sirius just rolled his eyes.
The great grey owl crashed to the table in front of the two boys, landing in a plate of scrambled eggs to sounds of disgust from other Gryffindors around them. The owl, with the red letter clearly prominent, was already gaining attention from people sitting around them, and James heard some jeers from the Slytherin table. He looked over and saw a Slytherin prefect with long blonde hair laughing and pointing at the owl, talking to a girl who looked in her sixth year, with curly black hair and dark lidded eyes. Sirius glanced back and saw them, and his face just darkened. He turned his back on the Slytherin table resolutely, and focused on untying the howler from the owl's leg.
"Why'd you get a howler?" James asked. "Also why are you opening it?"
"It's worse if you don't open them right away," was all Sirius said. The minute the howler was off the owl's leg it took off into the air again, knocking over Sirius's pumpkin juice in the process. Taking a deep breath, Sirius yanked the envelope open and thrust the howler away from him. The letter inside the envelope exploded out and let out a deafening screech.
"SIRIUS ORION BLACK, HOW COULD YOU BRING SUCH DISHONOR UPON YOUR FAMILY? GENERATIONS OF BLACKS, SHAMED BY YOUR WORTHLESS DECISIONS. YOU DARE, YOU REPUGNANT CHILD, TO ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE SORTED INTO GRYFFINDOR? GRYFFINDOR, WITH ITS MUDBLOODS AND MUGGLE LOVING BLOOD TRAITOR SCUM? YOU WOULD HAVE DONE BETTER TO FOLLOW IN YOUR COUSINS' FOOTSTEPS, BUT NO, YOU HAVE TO SHAME THE ENTIRE FAMILY. DON'T EXPECT TO COME HOME FOR WINTER HOLIDAYS. YOUR FATHER AND I WOULD BE ASHAMED TO LOOK AT YOU!" Screaming its last sentence at a higher pitch than the rest of the letter, the red letter exploded. James stared at the scorch marks on the table in shock. Sirius, who had just stared resolutely at the letter the entire time it was screaming, took a slow inhale. James watched his new friend's lip tremble slightly, and James clenched his fists.
He'd heard of the Blacks, offhandedly from his parents, but never really thought about them hard before. He knew they were blood purists, but to humiliate their son on his first day at Hogwarts? James swore to himself if he ever met Sirius's parents he'd give them a piece of his mind. But for now, there was the present problem, and that was to help his new friend as much as he could.
James jumped up onto his bench and then onto the table, to yells of surprise.
"Hi, everyone!" he yelled. "I'm James Potter! As you probably just heard, my friend Sirius here just got a howler! It was a prank, played by yours truly-" James swept a deep bow before straightening up and spreading his arms. "I challenge all of you to send a howler to your favorite person, and see how hard you can make them blush! Tomorrow no one will know what hit them!"
"What are you doing?" Sirius hissed, but James ignored him. He glanced up at the table where the teachers were sitting. They were starting to talk amongst themselves, looking the direction of the Gryffindor table.
James lowered his voice to address just the Gryffindors. "Whoever sends a howler to McGonagall gets two galleons from me!" He raised his voice again. "This has been prank one by me! Expect many more in the years to come." He swept one more bow and climbed back down onto his bench.
"What the heck was that?" Sirius hissed. His face was still pale, but the anger and sadness now warred with confusion on his face. James beamed.
"Well, now everyone's going to be too busy wondering what the heck I meant to think about the howler. You're welcome!"
Sirius stared at him for a long minute before chuckling quietly and shaking his head. "You're mental," he muttered. James was happy to see a smile on his friend's face.
"You know you love it," James teased. He picked up the smoldering remains of the howler in front of Sirius and dunked it into his glass of pumpkin juice. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the pretty red headed first year he'd met on the train glaring at him. She saw him looking and stook out her tongue, turning back to her food.
"Hey, Sirius, look at that. I think she likes me," James said.
Sirius had followed his gaze, and laughed. "If that's your idea of someone liking you, I have a feeling we've got a long seven years ahead of us."