Zane made a low whistle. 'I'll bet your orthodox wizard types didn't like seeing my guys landing today in those hunks of rolling iron. You can't get much more machine-y than a Dodge Hornet.'
James considered this. 'Yeah, they might not like it very much, but there's a difference between electronics and clockwork. They think of cars as just a bunch of cogs and pistons. They aren't so much false magic as just unnecessarily complicated tools. It's the computers and stuff they really hate.'
'I'll say,' Ralph breathed, looking down at his GameDeck, and then stuffing it back into his duffle bag. He sighed. 'Let's get out of here. Dinner's soon and I'm starved.'
'Are you ever full, Ralph?' Zane asked as they jumped off the bed.
'I'm big-boned,' Ralph said automatically, as if he'd said it many times before. 'It's a glandular problem. Shut up.'
'Just asking,' Zane said, raising his hands. 'Frankly, around here, I like the idea of having a friend who is the size of a dumpster.'
At dinner, the three of them sat together at the Gryffindor table. James was a little worried about it until Ted appeared and slapped Zane on the back affectionately. 'Our little Ravenclaw imp. How's life in the second best house on campus?' After that, James noticed that Zane and Ralph weren't the only students to sit down at other House tables.
After dinner, they discussed the following day's schedules. Zane would be joining James for his Technomancy class with Professor Jackson, and Ralph would be with James in Defense Against the Dark Arts. The boys explored the library, hovering outside the Restricted Section for a while until the librarian shooed them away with a stern warning. Finally, they said their goodnights and went their different ways.
'See you tomorrow with Professor Stonewall!' Zane, who had a unique predisposition for nicknaming teachers, called as he climbed the staircase to the Ravenclaw common room.
Entering his own room, James found Ted seated on the couch with his arm slung casually around Petra. Sabrina and Damien were at a nearby table, arguing quietly over some papers spread on the table between them.
'Ready for school tomorrow, Junior?' Ted piped as James joined them.
'Yeah! I think so.'
'You'll do fine,' Ted said reassuringly. 'First year is mostly wand-practice and theory. Wait until you get to fourth year and Professor Trelawney.'
'At least we get to dilute Trelawney with that new bag of bones from the States,' Petra said.
James raised his eyebrows. 'How do you mean?'
Ted answered, 'Looks like they'll be dividing the class. Last year it was Trelawney and Firenze, the centaur, but he's gone this year, moved back with the valley centaurs in Greyhaven. So this year, it's Trelawney and the voodoo queen, Madame Delacroix.'
'I imagine they'll be best of friends,' Damien announced philosophically. 'Like peas in a pod. Like powdered dragon eggshell and Mandrake sap.'
James blinked, but before he could ask Damien what he meant, Ted shook his head, smiling wickedly. 'Use your imagination, mate.'
A few minutes later, James detached himself from the group and climbed up to the sleeping quarters. He felt a pleasant mix of nervousness and excitement about the next day. For a moment, he simply stood in the moonlit room, soaking up the thrill of being there, being a Gryffindor, and starting his studies. He had a momentary dizzying sense of the adventures and challenges he'd be facing in the coming years, and in that moment, he wished he could jump ahead and take them all on at once.
Noah appeared from the tiny washroom. He glanced at James before flinging himself onto his bed. 'We all feel that way sometimes,' he said, as if he'd read James' thoughts. 'Wait until tomorrow evening and you'll be back to normal. A good dose of lectures and homework does it to the best of us.' And he blew out the candle by his bed.
James awoke early. The room was silent but for the breathing of his fellow Gryffindors and the whistling snore of Noah several beds away. The light in the room was only a few shades above night, a sort of pearly rose color. James tried to go back to sleep, but his mind was too full of all the unknowns that he was sure to experience in the next twelve hours. After a few minutes, he swung his feet out of bed and began to dress.
The halls of Hogwarts, while relatively quiet and empty, seemed busy in a completely different way this early in the morning. Dewy coolness and morning shadows filled the spaces, but there was a hint of busy commotion just out of sight behind unmarked doors down flights of narrow steps. As James moved among the corridors and passed empty classrooms that would later be filled with activity, he caught secondhand clues of the house-elf activity that thrived in the morning hours: a bucket and mop, still dripping, propped open a bathroom door; the scent of baking bread and the clatter of pots and pans drifted up a short flight of stairs; a row of windows stood with tapestries draped carefully out of them for airing.
James meandered to the Great Hall, but found it quiet and empty, the ceiling glowing a pale rose as the sky outside absorbed the light of the sunrise. James blinked and looked again. Something was moving among the semi- transparent rafters and beams. A grey shape flitted, humming a rather annoying little tune. James watched, trying to make out what it was. It seemed to be a small, fat man-shape with a gleefully impish expression of concentration. Against all probability, the figure seemed to be very carefully balancing tiny objects on the edges of some of the rafters. James noticed that the balanced objects were directly above the House tables, arranged at intervals and balanced so delicately as to fall at the slightest breeze.
'Fi!' the figure suddenly cried, making James jump. It had seen him. It swooped down upon him so swiftly that James almost dropped his books. 'Who spies on the spy when he's planning his morning funnies!?' the figure sang, annoyance and glee mingled in its voice.
'Oh,' James said, sighing. 'I know you. Dad and Mum told me about you. Peeves.'
'And I know you, little crumpet!' Peeves announced merrily, looping around James. 'Little Potter boy, James! Oooo! Sneaking about early-early, unlike your daddy! He preferred the night, he did! Seeking a spot of breakfast, is we? Oh, so sorry, all the little elfy-welfies are still cooking it up in the basements. Hogwarts belongs only to Peeves this early. Care for a Peruvian ballistic bean instead?'
Peeves shoved a wispy arm toward James' face. The tiny objects filling Peeves' hand looked like dried green kidney beans.
'No! Thanks! I'll… I'll be off, then.' James hooked a thumb over his shoulder and began to back away.
'Suresy, are we? Mmm! Beans, beans, the musical fruit!' Peeves dismissed James and swooped back up to the rafters again. 'The more I plant, the more to toot! Tooty fruits in little Potter's pumpkin juice, perhaps!' he
