"Thank you! It's nice of you to say that, when you don't have - how do you say it - a personal stake."

"Uh, yeah, sure. Hey unrelated but do you need a hug."

"Sure! I do not need one, I do not think, but it does sound nice."

Okay he can give this tiny boy who seems to have had it kinda bad a hug! Hugs are nice.

Hugs are nice! Tintin hugs back slightly awkwardly, not having had a ton of experience with it.

David will just be over here then.

James notices David over there. "Do you want a hug? I can give you a hug even if it hurts."

"Hurts?"

"It burns people to touch me. ...I don't know if I want a hug. It doesn't usually come up."

He lets go of Tintin and says, "If you can figure out how to do the opposite of the painful one please do that."

And then it's time to hug David because gosh it seems like everyone in this compartment other than James is depressing doesn't it.

Touching David hurts a lot. Possibly more than before. He stiffens in James's arms.

In addition to the burning, crackling energy flowing through James's body, there are tears splashing in his hair.

Ow. Ow ow ow.

Owowowowowowowowow hurt hurt hurt hurthurthurtpainitburns he pulls away for a second and then he notices David is crying and yeah okay back to hug owowowowowowowowo hurt pain burn fire burn it feels like fire and like lava and like lightning and like he's going to die and it would be very stupid to die here but on the other hand apparently he is hugging a kid who was never hugged or something?

He faints, and he has zero regrets.

He wakes up with a pounding headache, several of his limbs tingling, and a boy maybe two years older moving his wand in swirling patterns over his body.

"Oh, good," he says, not sounding particularly enthused. "It worked."

Abruptly, he is hugged. "Oh, Dieu merci, tu vas bien - you collapsed it was very frightening do not do that again!"

James blinks, then looks around, then remembers, then looks around for David.

David is huddled in his seat, occupying as little space as physically possible and looking distinctly miserable.

"Wait come on I just hugged you to make you less sad, don't be more sad," is the first thing he says.

"You also revealed fascinating new ways in which I can hurt people. Or - you haven't seen them yet, have you - roll up your sleeves."

...okay? He rolls up his sleeves.

His arms are patterned with a branching, fractal system of scars, like the root system of a tree. If he focuses, he might notice that this scar is the source of the tingling sensation. Judging by the extent of the tingling, it extends all the way up through his torso.

"That's a curse scar. I have cursed you, in the most literal possible sense."

"In fairness, he really seems to have cursed himself."

"—that looks so cool." He looks up at the older boy. "Do I get to keep them?"

The boy looks him over appraisingly, then chuckles. "You do! Curse scars are notoriously difficult to remove fully, and that's if you want them gone. That said, go to the infirmary after the Sorting feast, we don't want you keeling over dead before your first Charms lesson."

"'We' who? You're not old enough to be a prefect."

He rolls his eyes. "They'd tell you the same thing. I just happened to be close enough to help when they weren't."