Harry Potter and the Lost Heir (A fan fiction)

Chapter 5: The Shadow of the Past

Hogwarts was a very old and very magical school, where students learned everything from turning teacups into tortoises to flying on broomsticks high above the grounds. It was also a place full of secrets and stories, where the ancient halls and towers echoed with the deeds of the four founders, the four houses, and the countless witches and wizards who had studied there. But for James Potter, the son of the most famous wizard who ever lived, Hogwarts was a place of burden and bitterness, where he felt he could never live up to his father's name.

James was in Gryffindor, the house of the brave and the bold, and he had inherited his father's jet-black hair, bright green eyes, and natural flair for magic. He was also a troublemaker, who took pleasure in tormenting those he considered weaker or less worthy than himself, especially the Slytherins. He had a gang of friends who did whatever he said and laughed at his every word, but none of them really knew him.

James loathed it when people mentioned his father, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Defeater of Voldemort. He loathed it when teachers complimented his father, when classmates questioned him about his father, when strangers gawked at him because of his father. He loathed being in his father's shadow, and he longed to show himself as someone different.

On a fine and clear morning, James was making his way to his first lesson of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, with his friends. They were crossing the courtyard, where a bunch of younger students were perched on a bench, gossiping and giggling. James caught sight of a familiar face among them, a plump, bumbling boy with untidy brown hair and spectacles. His name was Todris Finch, a second-year Hufflepuff, and he was one of James's favourite victims.

"Hey, look at that," James said loudly, elbowing his friends. "It's Toddy the Toad. What do you reckon he's doing here? Hoping to snare some flies with his tongue?"

His friends chortled, and the other students in the courtyard looked around. Todris lifted his head and saw James bearing down on him with a sneer. He felt a jolt of fear and rage, but he tried to appear cool and unconcerned. He had learned from experience that resisting or fleeing only made things worse. He hoped that James would lose interest and leave him be, but he knew that was unlikely.

"Good morning, Potter," Todris said in a quiet voice, looking away.

"Good morning, Toad," James drawled, halting in front of him. "How's life in the pond? Feeling a bit slippery?"

"Actually, Potter, I'm feeling great. How about you? Feeling thick?"

Todris couldn't believe he had just said that. He had never stood up to James before.

James's grin vanished, replaced by a snarl. He hated it when his prey fought back. He seized Todris by the front of his robes and hoisted him off the bench, sending his books and bag flying.

"What was that, you filthy maggot?" James spat, his face close to Todris's. "Do you need a lesson in respect?"

Todris felt James's hot breath on his face. He knew he had gone too far, but he refused to grovel or say sorry. He met James's eyes and kept silent.

James was about to smash his fist into Todris's face, when a loud and stern voice rang out behind him.

"Potter! Release him, this instant!"

James whipped his head around and saw Professor McGonagall, the headmistress of Hogwarts, standing at the entrance of the courtyard, her eyes flashing with anger. She was an elderly woman, with gray hair and glasses, but she was also a formidable and revered witch, who had fought in the Second Wizarding War alongside Harry Potter. She was not someone to mess with.