Chapter Text
The first dream came on the warm March eve of James’ birthday.
He was in the Forbidden Forest.
The feeling he felt was important-- not his own importance, but the situation. Something tremendous in magnitude was about to take place, and he was to be a part of it. In fact, he somehow felt he played a key role in bringing this particular event to fruition. Yes, he knew what it was. Fate. Fate was calling his name.
Eagerly, James opened his eyes.
While his surroundings were familiar, they also contrasted very harshly with reality; above him, the moon waned, full and bright, as if completely unaware that the true full moon had already passed more than a week ago, below him hopped about a variety of animals, all ghost-like in their slight transparency and wispy-ness, and around him, the thick underbrush of the forest swirled and flowed wondrously, not unlike many of the paintings cluttering the corridors of Hogwarts. The smooth breeze carried a sense of calm with it, rustling the leaves around him with soft fingers. Just up ahead lay a cobblestone path, crumbling and mossy with age. None of the animals seemed inclined to stray there, but it called to him without a voice. Come, it said. Your destiny awaits.
Without hesitation, he started toward the mysterious path— it was his dream, why shouldn’t he do as he pleased? Each step clipped against the cobblestone as he ventured forth, and, upon looking down, James realized he was in his animagus form. It didn’t surprise him in the least, for this was a common theme in his dreams lately. He simply adapted and continued down the path, which had now begun leading further and further into darkness.
Slowly but surely, James made his way to the end of the cobblestone pathway. The trees had only grown in density as he went, and were now so dense that he could hardly see in front of him. The trail petered to a stop, but before him lay a small opening in the bracken— large enough for a small dog, perhaps, but too small for a stag. The light that shone through it seemed to glow with promise. It suddenly struck him with dream-like certainty that something was waiting for him within. He didn’t know how he knew, he just did; something was waiting for him on the other side, and it was imperative he reach it as soon as possible.
Why, what an easily solved problem! It made him snort in a stag-like chuckle. With slow grace, he brought his head close to the ground and extended a front leg. In two simple, sharp movements, his great crown of antlers had torn the brush to pieces and made an opening big enough for him to squeeze through. The princely stag lowered its head once more, this time to cross the barrier and pass into the entryway he'd made for himself.
A mixture of exhilaration and apprehension met him as he did so, for as soon as he entered the light, James knew that he had reached the heart of the forest. It murmured in the soil beneath his hooves and whispered on the wind, as if telling him secrets waiting to be heard for eons. Curiouser still, what lay beyond the thicket of underbrush was a large tree, standing tall and alone in the middle of a vast clearing, with a glimmering pool of water at its roots. Moss and lichen hung from every limb like Christmas tinsel and fireflies floated through the air, blinking loftily and illuminating the scene with soft golden light. Somehow, it felt as if all magic flowed from this very place— not the Forbidden Forest, but where he was in the dream, for it gave every sense that it wasn’t tied to any one location or moment in time.
He stepped up to the edge of the shining pool, and peered down at it with wonder. It sparkled like ever so many stars, collected from the heavens and left to spill their magic into the water. James was just about to satisfy his curiosity and taste this dream, when something stopped him. He was being approached.
Across the pool, a strikingly elegant, fluffy cat was looking at him with the most peculiar expression. This cat wasn’t like any of the other animals running about earlier, this one was solid— and oh, so beautiful. It was apparent that this was the only other ‘person’ present in this strange dimension.
Intrigued, James opened his mouth to say something, but remembered in the next moment that stags couldn’t speak. Instead, he tilted his head to the side curiously.
His feline friend seemed amused by this, flicking its tail lazily and smiling in that cat-like way.
He cocked his head to the other side, as if asking the same question again. Who are you?
The stranger understood the question, but gave no indication that it was to be answered. Without any warning, the cat turned the other way and ran toward the edge of the clearing. Perhaps it would have turned back to make sure James was following, but there was no need. The stag was already bounding after the cat, magical pool, tree and clearing all but forgotten. Just as the cat broke through the underbrush to dash away, James reached the spot it’d just been in. He felt a flicker of frustration— he was never the one left behind— but it soon subsided as he continued the hunt. The exhilaration of winding through the trees as fast as his legs could carry him never got old, but this time he could feel the suspense practically coursing through his veins. With every rustle and glimpse of fur ahead of him, he was only propelled further by his curiosity. He had the feeling that if he could just catch up— just find it— then he’d find something valuable beyond measure.
Finally, he saw the end. Up ahead James could see the edge of the forest, and the grassy field beyond. Relief, closely followed by triumph, made his pounding heart soar. His quarry slowed— there was nowhere to run. The red stag pressed on more urgently and prepared himself for a leap, eager to reach the conclusion of this great chase.
He’d been just seconds away from the cat— close enough to pick up its scent, in fact— but it was as if he’d blinked and it’d disappeared. Not only that, but the exit seemed to have disappeared along with it. Dark, heavy trees loomed from all sides and blocked out the moon, dreadfully more sinister than he’d ever seen them in the real Forbidden Forest. Everything seemed very still, and very eerie.
Suddenly, he found himself lost, and a little confused.
Frantically, he searched for a way out, even for the cat— but it was gone.
And for the first time, James was alone.
He awoke with a groan; his bed clothes were soaked through with sweat, and he could feel his hair sticking to his forehead. James tried to throw his blankets aside, but they were tangled around his legs. He kicked aggressively. They remained stubbornly. He gave a sigh of exasperation and finally grabbed the covers to pull them off himself. What he uncovered, however, caused a completely visceral reaction.
“AUGH!!”
Immediately, the entire Gryffindor boys’ dormitory was awake and alert.
It was a Saturday.
“What the hell, James?” Remus’ voice came from the other side of his bed curtains, irritated and tired. He was the most sensitive of the Marauders when it came to sleep, as he never had enough of it.
On the right, the curtains parted and Sirius’ wildly messy head of hair poked in with annoyance. “Y’know Prongs, we don’t all need to know when you’ve had a particularly good dream.” But his expression changed when he noticed what had actually been the cause for his outburst.
Just below his elbow, Peter peeked in curiously. “What’s wrong, James? What happened?”
He purposefully didn’t answer them at first— really, it was a little difficult to know what to say.
There, right on his forearm, was a birthmark that hadn’t been there the night before.
Sirius chuckled, as if this was the wisecrack of the century. “Happy birthday, stud!” It only got worse; he started to laugh— first stifled, and then at full volume. Next to him, Peter’s worried expression automatically switched to a hesitant smile, hoping to be part of the joke despite not knowing what was going on.
To the left, the curtains were ripped aside to reveal Remus, tall and tired and furious. “ Please ,” — Peter ducked behind Sirius a little further— “ enlighten me….” Padfoot’s laughter had ceased, but he was still smirking. Apparently this amused him, too. “ Why you three find it so bloody fun to be up at all hours of the night?”
“Prongs got his soulmark, Moony.” His smile spread into a toothy grin. “Take a look.”
James, in perfect dramatic fashion, only stared at it numbly. He might’ve told Pads to shut up if he weren’t so crushed.
Remus raised his eyebrows with disdain, not happy with the answer, but accepting it anyway. There was no point in staying angry, especially not when James was about to have a mid-life crisis at sixteen. He was the youngest, and so, the last to gain destiny’s mark. “Well?”
James, heavy with dread, stuck his arm out for Remus to see. His eyes were closed in pain. “That doesn’t look like a doe to you, does it?” He’d already seen it of course, but magic could be unpredictable sometimes— maybe it changed with time, or— please please please please pl-
“Ermmm… not really.”
He took his arm back and groaned, then squinted for a better look. Remus handed him his glasses, which he’d only begun wearing that year, and he crammed them on his face. The shape was a little bit clearer now. It was...
… A fluffy cat…
His eyes widened in realization, and in that split second, the dream from the night before flooded back into his memory like a river undamned. The forest, the tree, the pool— and then, the lonely end.
But Sirius’ laughter interrupted his thought process. “I suppose this means Lily was right after all.”
James shot him a dirty look, but it didn’t do anything to help the dull ache in his chest. “ Nothing about this to anyone. ” He waited until Sirius nodded his consent, then looked to Moony, who shrugged as if it were obvious he wouldn’t say a thing. “Good. Now, let’s pretend this never happened and celebrate my bloody birthday!” He clapped his hands together with a newfound grin. Enough of this nonsense.
The boys dispersed as if released by their team captain, going about their business to get ready for the day.
Daylight shone in through the window warmly. James sat for a moment, running a thumb over the new mark on his skin. Despite his troubles, he felt an unshakeable feeling of harmony.
...It hadn’t been that bad of a dream, after all.