𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐋𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐉𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐋𝐔𝐒

PART ONE: Vampire!

James Potter is knee-deep in shit.

Now, that in itself is no surprise. James Potter - Head Boy, daredevil, delinquent, moron - is almost always involved in some intolerable debacle. Whether it be an altercation with a particularly unbearable classmate or (light-heartedly!) harassing Lily Evans for the fourth time in one dinner, he's never been anything close to boring.

However, indulging in the concept of a plan in which he and his friends attempt to catch a close-up glimpse of a rumoured vampire milling about in The Forbidden Forest whilst under threat of suspension is certainly one of the wilder things he's attempted in his years of enrolment at Hogwarts.

There haven't even been any confirmed sightings! Merely word-of-mouth, passed from overheard professor conversations to the seventh year Slytherin misfits to the entirety of the school. To be fair, as long as the story hadn't been skewered during transfer, professors are a rather reliable source.

Nevertheless, it remains speculation. All of it. Paranoia may be enough to have wayward first year students drawing circles of 'holy water' (blessed by the ghosts of Hogwarts, no less) around their bunks and scattering chopped garlic around the dormitories, potent enough to bring tears to unsuspecting victims' eyes, but it certainly is not enough to have any authority figures addressing the issue. The most they've had regarding the entire situation is a brief word from Headmaster Dumbledore on how students must learn to trust the staff's judgement, and not make any brash decisions based purely on their own individualistic assumptions.

"Not even Dippet would've spewed such bullshit," Sirius had muttered afterwards, and their entire Gryffindor group had all echoed his resentment. Dumbledore may be a huge improvement from Headmaster Dippet's... ignorance regarding the ongoings of the school's prodigies, but he remains delusional. Surely he can't expect hundreds of superstitious kids to listen to him? If anything, he's worsened their burning curiosities.

"They need to stop employing men nearing their late hundreds as Headmaster," Lily - boisterous, animated, vicious red-head - had declared, loud enough to earn a few scathing glares from a few older misogynistic Quidditch boys towards the end of the dining table. They'd had a stern talking to from Professor McGonagall after she'd overheard their petulant snickering (and Remus, shining gold star as always, had dobbed them in. For once, everyone had been supportive of his heroics).

"All they know is suppression," Lily had continued to lament, "and pray that their issues will dissipate as a result. McGonagall would make a much finer Headmaster than any of those haggards sitting at that table. The only one I can somewhat tolerate is Hagrid."

Because everybody loves Hagrid. That's a simple fact (besides the Malfoys. But, then again, they don't like anyone).

As much as he agrees with Lily (and, rather pathetically, would agree with her on any point, no matter how outrageous), James hasn't been able to stop thinking about the concept of suppression since her spiel.

Suppression as a broad topic is interesting in itself - it brackets the fierce hope that ignoring things, regardless of their veracity or value, will make them disappear. A problem remover.

As much as that's fascinating, and although he doesn't read much, James would happily read one of Lily's feminist speeches on suppression, he can't help but focus on one branch of it in particular. Specifically, Dumbledore's purposive suppression of his awareness regarding his students' shenanigans. It's the man's own fault, really - almost every other staff member at Hogwarts has been tasked with taming James' notorious spirit at some point throughout his seven years at the school, let alone the Marauders, and any other pupils inspired by their actions.