No Longer

Licorice Snaps

James Evan Potter**

Standing in McGonagall's office, he felt that his mouth was open and closed it, teeth clicking together. How dare she speak to him like that? Didn't she know he was the Boy-Who-Lived? All his life, people had fawned over him, given him the best of everything, and had been grateful to him.

So why was it that ever since boarding the train, people had begun to show signs of not liking him? Of course, he still had a lot of followers, the people smart enough to realize how awesome he was, but now there were people who looked upon him with- dare he say it? Distaste.

On the train, that was where he'd met his little brother. It had astounded Evan how arrogant the little shrimp of a kid had been. Thinking he was better than Evan, and then cheating in a relatively public faceoff in front of some older students. He could still remember the feeling of being overly cheerful for well over an hour, and it hadn't worn off until they'd gone to the boats.

According to his gossip collector, Clare, Harry was well liked by almost all the professors, except for Snape, and everyone knew Snape was an ugly git who spouted garbage at any person who wasn't Slytherin. Death Eater trash. 

The only reason that people wouldn't like him now was Harry. Harry, who, from the very moment he stepped into Evan's life began to ruin it. It amazed him the damage that having a little brother would do, after all, shouldn't he have been grateful to Evan for surely saving his life as a baby? And weren't younger brothers supposed to look up to older ones?

The conclusion that must be drawn from this information could only be that Harry was using some dark magic on him. Magic to make people believe he had faults, though in truth there were none.

Straightening his spine, he left the office, jaw clenched in a way that made him appear rather pugnacious. He wasn't going to take this lying down. He would write to his parents to complain, as well as see the headmaster. Dumbledore had always been such a wise council, and had even been the one to teach Evan the magic he knew. He'd spent hours with him, teaching him different spells.

With stomping steps, he went directly to the gargoyle which led to a staircase containing Dumbledore's office. 

"Licorice Snaps," he enunciated clearly.

The gargoyle stepped aside, and Evan took sure steps up the winding circular stairway, the gargoyle stepping back into place in his wake.

He never bothered to knock, after all, who wouldn't want to see him as soon as possible? So when he reached the door going directly into the Headmaster's office, he simply shoved it open. As per usual, Dumbledore was fiddling with one of his silver devices.

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Evan said, using his very most respectful treatment. He never was so polite to others, as they were useless and didn't deserve it anyway.

"Evan my boy. It is so good to see you. Are things proceeding well for you at school so far?" He said, a twinkle in his blue, blue eyes, sort of like the ocean looked in the tropics.

"Not in the least! Would you believe the nerve of McGonagall, telling me I was on probation. Probation! Me! I can't grasp what has gotten into her. Someone must be using dark magic to turn the staff against me."

"Professor McGonagall, Evan. Please remember your manners. And what's this I hear about probation? Surely this is not so."

"Oh, it is," Evan said waspishly, eyes narrowing to slits, "She, Snape, Sprout and the flying instructor all told me off, the nerve of them, for some made up offense or rule breaking. Then today McGonagall got all up in my face about it, harping on about my behavior and sending a letter to my parents about my probation. Tsk," he ended.