That evening, after dinner, James and Rose sat amongst a pile of books and parchments at a corner table in the Gryffindor common room.
'It's only our first day back,' James complained. 'I can't believe I'm already sick of homework.'
Rose dipped her quill. 'If you'd stop complaining about it and just do it, it wouldn't seem like so much work.'
'Thanks for the pep talk,' James grumbled, flipping randomly through an enormous dusty book. 'So how many classes am I going to be sharing with you this year anyway? I mean, besides History of Magic and Transfiguration. It's a little embarrassing, you know.'
'I can't imagine why,' Rose said without looking up from her parchment, 'it's no reflection on you that I got my mum's grasp of basic magical principles. You, on the other hand, got your dad's grasp of slouching off your studies until the very last minute. It's simple genetics.'
James sat up. 'You're already done with your Transfiguration homework, then? Maybe you could give me a hand with mine since you're so smart. After all, we're family.'
'You obviously have me confused with someone else,' Rose said, stuffing her books into her bag and zipping it. 'That might've worked on my mum back in the day, but that's only because she had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. My Weasley heritage offsets that nicely. By the way, shouldn't you be wearing your glasses to do your homework?'
James threw her a wilting look. 'I only need them to see far away, thank you very much. I'd appreciate it if you kept the whole glasses thing to yourself.'
'It's no big deal. Lots of people wear glasses.'
'Lots of perfect spods,' James groused dismally.
'Damien wears them,' Rose pointed out. 'And Professor McGonagall. Fiera Hutchins wears them and they look totally cute on her, even if she is a Slytherin. And Clarence Templeton, and Scorpius…'
James nearly knocked his books off the table. 'Scorpius wears glasses? How do you know?'
Rose blinked at James. 'I saw him wearing them in Herbology. He needs them to read, I would guess. Unlike you, he seemed perfectly comfortable wearing them in class. They look rather sporting, in fact. They're rimless, with tortoiseshell sides—'
'All right, all right,' James said, waving his hand dismissively. 'This isn't making it any better.'
'Despite what you may think,' Rose said, leaning in and lowering her voice, 'he's not stupid. He may not be the nicest boy in school, but he knows his stuff.'
'He knows how to cast a few spells, big deal,' James said, crossing his arms. 'His parents probably hired him one of those goblin tutors just to make sure he could show the rest of us up.'
Rose shrugged and looked pointedly across the room. 'Looks like he's done with his homework, at any rate.'
James followed his cousin's gaze. Scorpius sat slouched in the high-back chair near the fireplace. He was idly flicking his wand, floating a bit of paper folded to resemble a bat. It bobbed and swooped easily.
'Bloody show-off,' James grumbled under his breath.
Cameron Creevey saw James looking. He stood and approached the table tentatively. 'Hey, James! How was your first day?'
'Lousy,' James griped. 'You any good at Transfiguration, Cameron?'
Cameron shook his head. 'I haven't even had my first class, sorry. I just wanted to ask you: is it true about last year? About the aligning of the planets and how you were there for Merlin's return and all that stuff about how you sent that Muggle news fellow packing?'
'Well,' James began, and then shrugged tiredly, 'yeah, sure, I guess. It's probably all true enough, but it wasn't like it sounds. I was trying to stop Merlin's return, you know. So really, it was all a big bust.'
Cameron grinned, showing a lot of pink gums. 'That's totally excellent!' he exclaimed. 'My dad, he's Dennis Creevey, he went to school with your dad, Harry Potter, right?'
'Sure, if you say so,' James agreed, smiling. The boy's enthusiasm was rather contagious. 'But I'm not like him, Cameron, really. I'm just a kid. See? No lightning bolt scar. Besides, I had loads of help.'
'Yeah, I heard,' Cameron nodded. 'Ralph Deedle, whose dad's real name is Dolohov! Nobody saw
Rose smirked and pretended to read one of James' books. James shook his head wonderingly. 'Where did you get all this, Cameron?'
'Oh, all the first-years have been talking about it. We can't wait to see what you get up to this year!'
James frowned. 'This year?'
'Sure!' Cameron enthused. 'I mean, it's just like in your dad's day! Every year, he got in some great adventure, didn't he? We've got all the old Daily Prophet articles at home as well as the novelizations. I know the books are a little exaggerated, but my dad, he was there for some of it, and he says they don't even do the real stories justice. My favorite is the one about the Triwizard Tournament, especially the bits with the dragon!'
James held up his hands, stopping Cameron. 'Look, those books are about my dad. Not me. Things are different these days, aren't they? There's no more Voldemort, no more big, scary, evil society bent on taking over the world. Last year was a fluke, all right? Besides, I wasn't a hero like my dad was. If I hadn't had Ralph and Zane—'
'Zane?' Cameron interrupted. 'He's the one from the States?'
'Yes,' James laughed, exasperated. 'He—'
James jumped as something rapped against the window behind him. He spun around, eyes wide. The window was perfectly black. He stared at his reflection in the old glass. 'What the—'
The rap came again, louder, shaking the window in its pane. A small object had thrown itself against the window from the outside. It looked like a moth, but with glowing green wings. James focused on it, furrowing his brow.
'What is it?' Rose asked, coming around the table to join James.
James shook his head. The moth threw itself against the window again, rattling the glass with its wings. It was remarkably strong considering its size.
'It's a lunarfly,' Rose said, recognizing the flying shape. 'Let it in before it knocks itself senseless. They're harmless.'
James unlatched the window and swung it open just as the lunarfly dove again. It shot through the open window and past James. Cameron ducked as the glowing moth spun out over the room. It swooped wildly, flitting through the students scattered around the room, leaving a trail of faintly glowing dust behind it. Scorpius sat up and peered at the moth, narrowing his eyes, as it wove and arced, drawing dusty greenish lines in the air. Finally, as if exhausted, the moth fluttered to a halt on the table, landing on James' pile of books. It folded its wings and twitched its antennae at James.
'Whoa!' Cameron said excitedly. James raised his eyes.
The lines of glowing dust had condensed into a shape. It floated in the air, drifting very slowly toward the ground. James recognized the shape. He grinned.
'Cameron, meet Zane,' James said, gesturing to the familiar face formed by the glowing dust. 'Zane, we were just talking about you. How'd you know?'
The dusty representation of Zane's face smiled. 'It works! Hi, James! Hold on a second. Raphael, Anna, tell Professor Franklyn it works. I'm getting through! They can see me! All right, anyway. Hey, everybody. Hi, Rose! Where's the Ralphinator?'
