Supervision Ⅲ

Back at Hogwarts, it is early in the morning when Remus Lupin awoke to fulfill his Prefect duties causing the others to startle awake. Sirius in particular covered his head with a pillow and fell promptly back asleep, while Peter with a loud yawn and sat up in bed to sleepily stretch his limbs. On the other hand, James immediately grabbed his wand from under his pillow and fiercely pointed it in the direction of the attack.

"Settle down, Auror Potter," Remus teased his dark tousled haired friend.

James stiffens for a moment at Remus's words, before lowering his wand. "Er, sorry, Moony," he sheepishly muttered as he ran a hand through his untidy dark hair, before getting out of bed and slipping into his bed robe and slippers.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Peter Pettigrew sniffs loudly at the morning chill. "Aren't you going to get dressed, James?" Peter asked.

"Not yet," James replied only to see both Peter and Remus blink at him in surprise. Perplexed by their stares, he asks, "But what should I be recalling that I am not?"

"Er, well this is awkward," Peter mumbled to himself, before glancing over at Remus and hinting with a pointed glance that he should be the one to tell James.

Letting out a loud sigh, Remus finally relents under the combined gaze of his two friends. "What Pete means to say James is that ever since our third year unless you have a date, it is always a tradition for you and Rowan to head down to Hogsmeade together on the first carriage."

James visible blinks in surprise, before furrowing his brow. "And I wasn't told this, why?"

"It easily slipped from all of our minds," Remus truthfully murmured as he hurriedly pulled on his shirt revealing a thin, pale, body covered in countless, thin scars. Still sitting on his bed, Peter nods his head in agreement with Remus's words.

"Wait, what time is it?" James urgently asked as recalled the task given to him by Dumbledore.

"Er, about five minutes until eight," Peter mumbled as he glanced over at the clock.

"By Helga's rear!" James cursed to the amusement of Peter and the exasperated expression of Remus. Scrambling out of his clothes, he pulls the nearest clothes within reach, before clambering down the stairs still putting on his robes. However, halfway down the stairs, he recalls that he had left mokeskin in the dorm room and rushes back upstairs.

Peter just shakes his head at James' antics and returns to stretching while Remus mumbles something under his breath about Gryffindors, which only caused Peter too loudly snicker, while Sirius murmurs something in his sleep blissfully unaware of the morning's events.

Not even pausing for brunch, James runs down the winding staircase and out into the front hall. To his dismay, he hears the first carriage departing. Panting, he rushes out of the front entrance only to see the first carriage headed to Hogsmeade being pulled by reptilian horse-like skeleton creatures. With wand in hand, he almost casts a spell, before recalling what the creatures in fact were, Thestral's.

Slowly lowering the wand in his hand, James stands there stiffly in the cold morning air. He had never seen Thestral's during his time at Hogwarts, but then again, he had never witnessed death before. And now, well, he was not the same as before.

Sliding his wand into his back pocket, James hastens towards the next carriage and climbs inside. With a loud creak, the carriage sets forward towards Hogsmeade gently being pulled by a pair of Thestral's. Finally catching his breath, he leans back and sighs. He was truly not cut out for this, but he did not have a choice, it was what Dumbledore had requested of him.

James's eyes flicker outside as he studies the gray sky and realizes with a shiver that he was cold. Hastily pulling his robes shut, he shivers again and casts a warming charm over his robes. In his haste, he had forgotten to even grab his house scarf much less a cloak or even gloves. But at least, he had remembered to return for his mokeskin pouch. It would truly be embarrassing if he had Lily pay for their date at Hogsmeade.

A soft expression creeps onto James's face as a mixture of contrary emotions welled up within him. Feeling of tide emotions threatening to overwhelm him, he breathes in and out as instructed to by Madam Pomfrey until at last, he is once more himself. Glancing up to his amazement, he finds himself overlooking the ridge above Hogsmeade.

Down below are dozens of picturesque cottages with smoke trailing from their chimneys, while Halloween decorations are out and about the entire village. There are large glowing carved pumpkins, candlelit lanterns in black and orange that hang all over the village, and countless other decorations.

To his delight, James spots the first carriage coming to a halt at the side of the road from the carriage emerges a figure in a warm-looking fur-lined cloak with a bright emerald and silver scarf in the Slytherin house colors. Letting out a snort, he leans at the edge of his seat as he mentally urges the Thestral's faster, who finally reach the bottom of the slope and pull to the side of the road.

Leaping out of the carriage, James hastily slams the carriage door behind him and makes his way down the frozen dirt road. His footsteps sounded quite loudly causing the dark-haired, pale, slender girl to turn around revealing midnight black, indigo-colored eyes. Panting, he comes to a halt, and wheezes with a stitch in his side. "Prince, I thought it was tradition," James wheezed, but still carefully studied the Slytherin Prefect standing before him.

A look of amazement crosses Rowan Prince's face before swiftly disappearing. "You are late, Potter," Rowan crisply muttered.

"Well, someone didn't wait for me," James huffed as he straightened up and stared back at the Slytherin Prefect.

"Fair enough, Potter," Rowan admitted as they set off down the road, "but I have never had to wait before."

"Yes, well, I wasn't aware that was indeed the case until five minutes until the hour," James ruefully chuckled as he rubbed his hand through his untidy hair in an attempt to futilely comb it.

"Mm," is all that Rowan hummed in reply.

Before James can speak again, he violently shivers as a frigid breeze creeps down the neck of his collar. Seeing James's shivering, Rowan sighs and comes to an abrupt halt. She hesitates for a moment, "Hold still, Potter," she briskly instructed as James warily did exactly what he was told.

To his utter amazement, James finds that Rowan removing her Slytherin house scarf and wraps it around his neck. He remains utterly still and in shock, before breathing in the scent of mint and something cinnamon-like from the scarf around his neck. It was a cold, but warm scent. It smelled familiar for some reason despite the fact he had never smelt the scent before. But perchance, it was this body's memory even if he did not recall them, his body did.

"It's in Slytherin colors," James complained out loud to his own shock.

A hint of a smile appears on Rowan's face before vanishing as she in a lofty tone says, "Why Potter, I do believe, Professor Flitwick already covered coloring charms this year. I should expect that you would be capable of that much, no?"

"Naturally," James said with some of his old confidence with great flourish pointed his wand at the scarf. "Colovaria!" The scarf changes into scarlet and gold house colors, Gryffindor's to be precise.

"How utterly cliché," Rowan sniffed, before turning away and heading down the road.

Despite himself, James finds his lips twitching up into a smile as he follows after her. He had not thought he would come to enjoy the company of the Slytherin female Prefect and to be perfectly honest at first, he could not understand just why the James of old would have liked her considering her cold manner. But she was surprisingly witty and had a rather caring nature. Though he was certain that only under the pain of death would the Slytherin ever admit being caring.

Never in a hundred years would he ever thought that he would find himself enjoying the company of a Slytherin. But he had been wrong about so many things. And this was not the first time and certainly would not be the last.