Chapter Text
Why is it that when one man builds a wall, the next man immediately needs to know what's on the other side?
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Chapter 1:
In Which a Naughty Boy Gets Cursed
~ James ~
The best time to be meddling with the locked chests in 12 Grimmauld Place was the middle of the night. Young James Potter had noticed that particularly the nights of the full moon were ideal. Locks that he didn’t know how to pick came loose in his hands without much resistance and things his mother didn’t want anywhere near him called out to him. That particular evening, he had set his eyes upon a chest covered by shiny leathered checks of green and black, which had not faded in the least despite its age. James enjoyed stroking its surface, trying to coax out the secrets that hid inside it.
The lock rattled once the boy’s little hands hovered over it and gave way with a crisp click . James was giddy with excitement when the chest’s lid flung open without even touching it. He leaned his head so far forward that his short legs lifted off the floor. He fished out some fur – a cloak to wander the southern tundras, two silver goblets with gems embedded in the metal and a book, which interested him not in the least since he hadn’t learned his ABC’s yet. What he actually wanted was a bundle of shrunken skulls, like the ones Ginny had confiscated from him last week. Finding none left him feeling disappointed. Still, right before he gave up, his fingers felt the outline of a little box.
He collected it and sat on the floor, peering at it from all sides. It was a pretty little thing that could be a jewellery box sitting on a lady’s boudoir. It was made of polished wood, had silver, little legs that curled into talons at the ends and the clasp was made of silver snakes coiling around the lid. James shook it impatiently, hoping the sound it would make would reveal something of its contents. It was absolutely quiet as if it only contained a perfect void, but the weight of it was unjustifiable if it was empty.
James traced his thumb over the silver snakes, with no intention in mind. Like all the previous locks though, the lid gave way, the snakes curled backwards and the box sprung to life. The boy looked at it wide-eyed, eager to peek inside. A puff of dark smoke rose and condensed in the room above him, until it was nearly solidified into the animated shape of a cobra. Its glowing, green eyes, more corporeal than the rest of it, stared straight into the young offender's eyes. Without a warning, the cobra sprung forward into James’s mouth.
Reflexively, James grasped his throat and wheezed, but he couldn't cough it up. The smoke went down his throat, stinging his trachea in its sudden descent to his lungs. The discomfort left him just as easily as it had come; without a trace. Footfalls echoed in the higher floors and soon the lights were on. Harry got to him first, while Ginny appeared on the stairs with Lily Luna clutching her nightgown.
James didn’t cry, because he never did, but instinctively he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck tightly. The box fell out of his arms with a soft thump, most of the impact absorbed by the thick rug.
“He’s alright,” Harry assured his wife. “You got startled, didn’t you, Jamie?”
James nodded mutely.
“He went through the bloody trunk, didn’t he?” Ginny asked, anxiety lacing her voice. “I knew we shouldn’t have left it there.”
“What’s done is done.” Harry stroked James’s hair and the boy eventually disentangled himself, guiltily avoiding his father’s gaze. Harry wasn’t staring accusingly. His mind focussed on looking for anything gone astray. He knew the score. It hadn’t been the first time James had meddled with inappropriate things in the house. This house was so wrong for such an inquisitive child. There were temptations everywhere. His boy appeared to be in one piece, other than his unwillingness to admit his naughtiness. “Can you tell me what happened?”
James peered sideways at the box behind his father’s legs. Ginny went down the stairs and leaned out to pick it up, when James reached out and yelled a terrified “No!”
The sound that left his lips was nothing like anything he had ever heard before. Harry and Ginny had though. They looked at each other in sheer horror and then at their son. Neither had heard Parseltongue for many years - fourteen to be exact. Harry seated James on an armchair, away from the trunk, while Ginny cast a spell to lock the trunk again and picked up the small box with a curse-proof glove she had lying around. She wrapped it in a handkerchief and stuffed it in her robe.
“Lily Luna, sweetie, go upstairs to your room. If you’re scared go to Al.”
The youngest Potter grimaced but went upstairs with a pout.
“James, no one is going to scold you. But can you speak?”
The boy, agitated, tried once more and more Parseltongue came from his mouth. He stopped and bit down his lip, whimpering. Ginny pulled him into a hug and mouthed at Harry, “Can you understand what he’s saying?”
Harry shook his head. “We should go to St. Mungo’s.”
“We can’t both go, what about Al and Lily Luna?”
Right on cue, a loud pop echoed in the living room. James jumped a little, but his mother was still holding him reassuringly. Hermione Granger stood there in all her glory, in a floral nightgown and her hair rolled up with pins on top of her head.
“The joys of parenthood,” she said sarcastically and shot a tired smile at her friends. “I’m happy to see you all still in one piece.”
“‘Mione!” Harry said, relief washing over his face. The worry wrinkles on his face seemed to lessen a little with the arrival of a familiar face. “How did you know we needed help?”
“Ronald and I were awake with Hugo because he’s got a stomach bug when that bloody phoenix began to viciously peck at our bedroom window.”
“Fawkes?” Ginny asked curiously. Fawkes came to their house from time to time, fond of Harry as he was, but they hadn’t seen him in over a year.
“The one and only. I knew something was awry the moment I saw him. He’s never come to us before. So I left Ron with the kids and here I am.”
“Dumbles is still watching over us, even when we’re only dealing with mini crises,” Ginny said and Harry chuckled.
Harry took Hermione aside and explained the events as they knew them. She was uncertain of how to proceed since she didn’t know what curse that might have been and she had been dealing with magical law for the last few years, so she urged them to hurry to the hospital. “I’ll tell the kids you’re staying over and then we can go,” Harry said, hurrying up the stairs.
* * * * *
This was the second time James was visiting St. Mungo’s Curse Ward. He didn’t like the bleak, white-tiled walls nor the puke-green doors to each examination room. Nonetheless, some of the healers were fun and he loved hearing all the gross stories they had to share with him.
The night wasn’t busy and the nurse led them to an examination room immediately. She hurriedly left to fetch a healer to examine James. The young boy had calmed down a little after the initial shock and was taking in his surroundings, his little fingers tearing away the paper cover of the bed he was sitting on.
“Jamie, stop that,” Ginny chided and James weaved his fingers together over his legs, but started kicking his dangling feet with such force that the bed squeaked. His mother rolled her eyes and Harry smirked.
“I’d say someone’s spirits are returning,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow at his son inquisitively.
James shot his dad a cheeky grin and tried to say “Yes,” but a snake sound that startled him came out of his mouth again. He clamped his hands over his lips and looked at his parents wide-eyed.
“Don’t fret, Jamie, the healer will know what to do,” Harry said and messed with his son’s hair. James had been born with raven black hair and blue eyes, and with an uncanny resemblance to his father; except for the eyes that were like his Weasley grandmother. Despite that, as the years passed, his hair turned more brown and even his face sometimes looked more like Ginny rather than Harry. The insubordination of his hair though was what made James undeniably and irrevocably a Potter.
The healer came in, glanced up from his chart to his patient, then looked back down. “The patient is male, four and a half years of age, magic manifested since the age of one, name: James Potter. Ah, Mr. James, again . I’d say I missed you, but I don’t want you getting the impression I look forward to having you admitted here too often,” Caleb Spleen said and touched James’s nose with the tip of his quill.
The boy giggled, making a chipped “chs-chs-chs” sound in the process.
“Ah, that’s what they meant when they wrote Sounds like a snake in the chart.”
Ginny removed the small artefact from her pocket and presented it to the healer, with the cloth separating her skin from the object. “We found him with this and ever since he hasn’t spoken properly.
Caleb raised an eyebrow and peered at Harry, his pale eyes focusing intensely on the thunderbolt scar on his forehead. “Pardon my asking, but… are you certain this is a cursed object and not an inherent trait?” He looked at the couple apologetically. “Everything you say will remain in this room, there’s patient-healer confidentiality that we take very seriously.”
“It’s quite alright,” Harry said. “But no, he hasn’t inherited it from me. I haven’t been able to speak to snakes since the Battle . I have no idea what Jamie might be saying.”
The healer nodded. “Very well. Ma’am, please place the object here.” He indicated a metal trolley and Ginny placed it there. “Do you know what this is supposed to be? Anything that could be of use?”
“It was in a chest in the Blacks’ residence, where we live. We hadn’t gone through its contents yet.”
“Very well, worry not. We’ll find out what we can.” Caleb cast a shielding charm that trapped the small object in a magical bubble. “This way, anything that comes out of the box won’t be able to touch us,” he explained.
He then proceeded in casting a few non-verbal charms, each consisting of a complicated array of wand gestures. At first, nothing happened, but at the third charm, the box rattled violently. At the fourth, it jumped up in the air and the metallic snakes that kept it closed moved slightly, grinding against each other. At the fifth, the box snapped open and a phantom apparition of what had happened in the Potters’ living room replayed within the limits of the shielding bubble.
James clutched his mother’s shirt with one hand, while he put the other over his mouth. The large cobra scared him now almost as much as it had the first time. “It can’t touch you, kid, this is just a repetition of what happened. The curse is all drained from it.”
Ginny held her son close. “Doesn’t this mean that it’s…”
“Of course, it’s in the boy. I’ll search for cures, but from my experience we won’t be that lucky.”
“So, he won’t speak again?” Harry interjected. The cool manner in which the healer spoke was beginning to irk him.
“That’s not what I said, Mr. Potter.” The spell ended and he put away his wand. He focused on James, who relaxed once more when the giant snake vanished from view. “James, tell me something.” The boy kept on staring at the healer blankly. “Anything! Tell me about your best friend, for example, what did you do last time you met?”
James was conflicted at that moment. He didn’t know whom he wanted to talk about. There was Teddy, who was like a big brother to him and was great and knew everything James wanted to know when he grew up… and there was Fred, his favourite cousin who always said yes when James wanted to squish and mix gross things in the garden and sneak them in someone’s food. He concluded he would tell the healer about Fred, because that was who he had seen more recently; Teddy spent most of the year in Hogwarts, learning magic.
He was so caught up in describing his adventures with Fred in the Burrow’s garden that he paid little mind to the clumsy reptilian speech he was giving, much to his mother’s horror. Somewhere along the way, as James complimented the way Fred had painted a troll on the exterior wall of Grandma Molly’s kitchen with muddy fingers, his Parseltongue gave way to plain, childish English that he usually spoke. He paused when he noticed this, looking at the grownups in shock. How had the healer done that?
“Amazing,” Harry said. “So that was it?”
Caleb grimaced. “Yes and no.” Your son has acquired the ability to talk to snakes, potentially to the same extent as a Parselmouth, due to the curse contained in that little box. The curse most likely has other effects that we haven’t noticed yet, and it’s likely that speaking Parseltongue is a side-effect rather than the main purpose of the curse. What I am guessing is that from now on when he’s emotionally overloaded, he may slip up and speak Parseltongue even when he doesn’t mean to. This was why he could only speak that way after the curse hit him, because the poor thing was shaken up and he was still in shock when I walked into this room. Once I got him talking about a pleasant topic for him, he returned to normal again.”
“What kind of other effects do you expect the curse to have?” Ginny asked, glancing between her son and the healer with concern.
“If you’d like, I could do some brief research while you wait for the discharge papers. Also, I suggest you make an appointment with our Gibberologist, who will be able to assess his ability to speak to snakes better and potentially give him exercises to get better at speaking English when he feels like he’s unable to. Ask at the front desk for that.”
The Potters nodded and left the room, James was excited he had gone back to normal and that he’d get to speak to snakes, while Ginny and Harry were already concerned about all the new things they would have on their plate.
* * * * *
The waiting room was empty and most of the portraits in the walls were snoozing in their seats, so James was left with nothing interesting to do while they waited for the healer. “Mr. Wizard? Hellwooo, Mr. Wizard, can you hear me?” James poked at the portrait’s canvas with his finger, but the sleeping figure remained undisturbed. “Hellwo?” James yelled, making both his parents and the two nurses glare at him.
That’s when he heard it. “I can hear you,” a voice said.
He peered at the wizard who still feigned sleep.
“How are you doing this?” James whispered suspiciously at the portrait.
“With magic ,” the voice snickered.
James whirled around and examined the room. He knew the portrait hadn’t spoken; he had been staring at the drawn wizard’s lips very carefully. “Yeah, right,” James huffed. Teddy did things like that to him sometime, but Teddy wasn’t here now and he didn’t like it when strangers made fun of him. “It’s not funny, you know. Show yourself.”
“You’re funny. You speak so funnily,” the voice continued. It was near, but James couldn’t see it. In the room, there was just the nurses, his parents and himself.
“Liar, no, I don’t!”
“But you do,” the voice insisted.
“Where are you? Come here if you dare!” James hissed.
“I dare, but do you promise not to scream?”
“I won’t scream,” James said, crossing his arms stubbornly over his chest. “I’m brave and I’ll be in Gryffindor like Mum and Dad.”
“Very well, then.”
James barely noticed the jet-like speed with which a snake sprung towards his legs. “Jamie, no!” Harry yelled and reacted instantly, shooting an immobilising charm at the snake. Ginny was at her son’s side in a flash. James looked at the snake wide-eyed, taking notice of how wide its mouth was opened as it was frozen mid-air and how its long front teeth protruded from its upper jaw. With a small delay, he was at last, utterly rattled and shaking violently where he stood.
“How did this get in here?” the head matron demanded sternly from a young nurse.
The nurse remained quiet, too startled to offer an explanation. “Don’t gawk like that, get a Cleaner here, now! And someone from the Poisons Department !”
The Cleaner arrived quickly, collecting the snake in a glass terrarium and carrying it away on a trolley. The chief of the Poisons Department stayed behind, getting scolded by the head matron in front of the very shaken Potters.
“How could you let that snake slither about for so long?! You’ve been looking for it since yesterday afternoon! What would happen if the child was bitten?”
“Mrs. Rottinger, of course, the events of this night are unfortunate, but the child would be in good hands. We have antidotes for Balkan whipsnake bites and this was exactly why the snake is in our department anyway. You know they’re kept in our department for that exact purpose.”
“Fiddlesticks! Of course, I know that, but that means your venomous critters stay in your department! I don’t want them crawling all over my waiting room, scaring my patients! Get your interns in line, this is the seventh time something escaped this week. We’re running a hospital, not a menagerie, Mr. Hooters! Any objections?”
Mr. Hooters shook his head in defeat and hurried to apologise to the family. In the meantime, Healer Spleen had returned and was peering at the situation curiously. “I believe I figured out what this curse is supposed to do. Mrs. Rottinger, please keep young James some company while I speak with Mr. and Mrs. Potter.”
The head matron softened up instantly, sitting next to the child and offering him some sponge cake, while the Healer discussed with his parents somberly.