17th June 2020 - James Potter II
The Weasley/Potter clan arrived back at the Burrow to the usual ruckus. Aunties and Uncles grabbed their nephew and nieces with loving hugs intercepted with calls of, 'look how big you've got!'
Grandma Weasley strode forward wrapping her arms tightly around James, "Oh Jamie, you've gotten so big!" He had, in fact, grown since Christmas. But then he thought Grandma Weasley would be far pushed to find a sixteen year old that hadn't grown. It was true that he had suddenly shot up, he was finally his father's height (not that his father was particularly tall) and he'd gotten that gangly look that all teenage boys in the middle of their growth spurts tended to get. Although Maddy kept calling him lanky, James would argue that he had the physique of a successful Quidditch player, slight and muscly. James clutched his Grandma warmly towards him, (he'd missed her- alright?). James released her and with her attention on one of her many other grandchildren James took this time to escape to the orchard. There, a safe distance from the rest of the family he stretched out on the grass, a hand tucked behind his head as he replayed the final Quidditch match and his snog with Melanie Winters, a girl who in Fred's words "had more boobage than a man should know what to do with." James however felt he knew exactly how to deal with that much boobage. He smiled, hopefully he'd be able to see her again soon, he wanted to 'get to know her' a little better.
It was nice to finally be rid of his family, not that he disliked them, because he did love them in the sort of way that meant he could tolerate them, but several hours with them on a cramped train led to homicidal thoughts. Especially because of the ribbing Albus and Rose were giving him for snogging a girl with, 'only one brain cell knocking around.' He had to agree she was a little…. thick. But she more than made up for it in other departments.
The Weasley's always got together at the end of the school year, Grandma Weasley just couldn't stop herself from throwing a party and so at the end of each school year -since Teddy's first- the entire family congregated for some good old fashioned partying. Or in George and Ron's case- get as drunk as they can before their wives notice. This party was doubling up as Molly's graduation party. Molly, the oldest of Percy's two daughters had just finished her seventh year and was hoping to get the required marks to become a hit wizard, (sort of like the muggle MI5). James knew that Percy disapproved, he'd heard his parents talking about it, both shaking their heads. James reckoned that Percy thought Molly should do something more academic, enter the ministry and do law or something mind numbingly boring. Unfortunately for him, Molly could not be swayed and if she got the required results in August she would be joining as a trainee.
Molly leaving meant that Louis was now the oldest Weasley at Hogwarts, he would be going into seventh year Hufflepuff so James didn't think that counted. He was the oldest in the house that mattered. Fred was in the same year as him and only a couple of months younger and he got pissed every time James mentioned the fact he was now the leader.
It was hard sometimes with so many cousins, James sometimes worried he had too much to live up to. I mean, Teddy had just qualified as an junior Auror and Victorie was well on her way to becoming a healer. Dom was interning at the wireless network (and would no doubt soon have a job there). Molly would undoubtedly get 7 Newts, and Louis, though in Hufflepuff, was pretty smart, not to mention he was tipped to be head boy. His younger cousins were no less impressive, they all had high hopes for the future. Fred wanted to play professionally, and James had no doubt that he had the talent. Albus had some wild idea to be an unspeakable, had wanted to since their dad had told them the story of their fifth year. He knew his parents were unsure about that one. He had no idea what the rest of them wanted to do but knowing them it would be something just as impressive. He, however had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do with his life, a problem that was causing him endless worry. All that and then constantly getting compared to his war hero parents, yeah James sure had it easy. Not.
Fred interrupted his musing by launching himself on top of James. "What's up Jamsie?" he cackled, "dreaming of her already?"
"Sod off Fred, just wanted some peace."
Fred snorted, "in this family? Not bloody likely!" Fred took after his mother, he shared her darker skin and hair colour. He had however inherited the prankster personality from his father.
"By the way, I was talking to Sammy- you know Sammy right?" James frowned, Samantha…. Ackerly, beautiful blonde in Louis' year. And Freddie's type.
"Yeah… talking." James snorted and in true Weasley fashion Fred's ears turned red.
"Anyway," he coughed, "we were talking and she said something about attacks on muggle-borns and I thought who do I know that might know something about that?"
"I haven't heard anything." James said mildly annoyed, he hated when people assumed his dad told him everything, cause he told him bloody nothing.
"Oh," Fred paused in thought, looking uncharacteristically serious, "attacks though? Sounds pretty serious. Almost like the run up to the last war."
A lump grew in James' throat, "almost, yeah."
James had reason to be scared, or anxious as he would put it. His father by his own account had barely survived the last war and James didn't think it would be within his dad's luck to survive again. I mean yeah, his dad had survived but he'd heard his mum talking to Aunt Hermione about the effect of the psychological scars. Hermione had said he had no idea how he could gather the strength to get up in the morning. His mother had agreed. James privately thought if he'd had to do what his dad had done he'd be a wreck.
Fred must have read his feelings because he said quickly, "could be bollocks though and it's hardly going to be another Tom Riddle." James nodded and went to speak but was interrupted.
"Jamie, Freddie!" Lily yelled while sprinting across the field, the wind caught her red hair and whipped it about her face. She came to a screaming stop just next to James' head, she placed her hands on her hips in a way that reminded James of his mother. "Mum says you have to come in for food. She says that you need to hurry," Lily's mouth split into a toothy grin, "before Uncle Ron eats it all." With that she turned and galloped out of the orchard.
James leapt to his feet before pulling Fred to his feet with ease, "Race ya'?" James smirked, racing off before Fred could reply.
"Oi!" Fred shouted before taking off. "No fair Jimbo!" But James was too far away and Fred grumbled the entire way back to the house.
For big family gatherings they sat in the yard outside the kitchen door. When the grandchildren had started arriving there just simply wasn't space for the family to sit inside. Christmas dinner was the one occasion they managed to squeeze in the house, but it was still a hard stretch and James found it cramped and suffocating.
In the garden there were several old battered tables pushed together to form one large dining table. The chairs were all old and uncomfortable but the feeling of warmth and family there was stronger than anywhere else. At the Weasley table you fought to get a seat and whomever you ended up beside you were sure to be in good company. The adults usually spread out, conversing across the children to each other but still letting the children become involved in their conversations which is why when James came to a stop at the table he knew something was wrong.
Hermione, Ron, Bill, Percy, George and his parents sat huddled at one end of the table, leaning close together with tense faces. They weren't whispering but still no voices could be heard, they'd obviously cast the muffliato charm. James hovered at the other end of the table, they hadn't noticed him yet but from the intense nature of their talk he knew that they wouldn't want to be interrupted, despite the fact he was only months away from being of age.
Molly bustled over ending his indecision, she pushed him towards a seat at the opposite end of the table, far away from the talking adults. He felt his eyebrow raise in annoyance. Not like he was going to try and eavesdrop, (he'd been planning on trying to read their lips since they would surely have planned against extendable ears.)
The table was full of food, too much for the family and that was saying something with both Ron and Hugo in attendance. With the lull of conversation and the amazing food in front of him James forgot the worries with the welcome distraction of Grandma Weasley's cooking.
17th June: 5:33pm -Harry Potter
Harry watched warily as his oldest son sat down and was immersed in conversation. James was sixteen and in only a matter of months he would be of age and fully entitled to listening to the conversations such as this. This thought worried him greatly. With things as they were and with the threat likely only going to worsen, James could (and would, if he had a say) be greatly involved. Although as Ron would point out he himself had hardly been far from a fight in his younger days, it was not the life he had wanted for his children. He certainly didn't want his kids anywhere near this.
"Stop eyeing our son like that," Ginny chided.
"Just checking the charms are holding," Harry said, flushing as the others laughed heart-heartedly.
"Are you expecting more attacks?" George asked.
"We are expecting something, they are proving hard to predict at the moment," Harry rubbed at his nose lifting his glasses slightly. "We -well actually Irvine- thinks it's going to be rather more like a terrorist attack."
"Bombings?" Ron said wrinkling his nose in distaste, casting his mind back to what he'd heard about the muggles.
"Probably with more of a magical twist," Harry said with a bit of snark, "same principle though. It's why I'm warning you guys. We think they are likely to attack crowded places, like Diagon Alley or Hogesmede."
"And Gringotts?" Bill asked.
"Can't rule it out, but they'd be mad to anger the goblins," Harry smiled at Hermione and Ron, "we all know they get touchy about damage there." Ron laughed, Hermione frowned disapprovingly.
"Hardly think that will matter to them, Harry." she sniffed, "The ministry is upping the security in Diagon Alley and such."
"I shouldn't really be telling you, but constant vigilance and all that."
"I doubt you have to worry with Hermione as your boss!" Bill smirked.
"I wouldn't put it past her, mate," Ron hooted, "Hermione was known to dob us in at school, weren't you 'Mione?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at her husband and the grin dropped from his face.
"If we learnt lessons from the war it is that secrets only divide us, knowledge is the best armour there is."
"Here, here," Percy said with a smile. "Of course, don't go telling everybody about it. Minister Shacklebolt is keeping it out of the press for now."
"Is that wise?" Said George quietly.
"Kingsley wants to avoid panic," Hermione sniffed again sharing a look with Harry. "We, me and Harry, feel that the public should be aware."
Harry grimaced, "I just feel that we shouldn't be controlling the papers."
"Rather too much like Fudge," Ron paused before saying in a low voice, "but would publicising it make much of a difference?"
"This way they don't know how aware we are of them," Harry said, pushing up his glasses.
"I suppose," Ron said doubtfully.
Harry went to say something before pausing, the words feeling heavy in his mouth. Part of him (a large part) wanted to ask Ron to rejoin the aurors. He never felt safer than when Ron was on his team and at his back, in battles and in life. He knew it was selfish but the possibility of a battle ahead made him uneasy, and whenever he'd felt uneasy he'd had both Ron and Hermione at his back, but Ron had quit for good reasons. Ron had had a few close calls, but the last one was when Hugo had only been two years old. He had thrown himself in the way of a stray spell meant for Harry, the spell had been horrific, and for weeks it had been touch and go. Ron had quit not long after. He'd put his family and his life first, and Harry wasn't going to change that. Ron had already given too much.
Harry looked over to this children, seeing them when his job seemed bleakest reminded him of why he kept fighting. To make the world better and safer. They had done so well, the Death Eaters were eradicated, polls put harmony between muggle-borns and purebloods at an all time high. The world had never seemed safer.
But there was always someone with an axe to grind and this group was organised and if their threats were to be taken seriously- deadly. Harry had seen the murder scenes, seen the notes left. This was organised terror, clever and ready to manipulate the masses.
His greatest fear was that there was sympathises. He wouldn't be surprised if there were, they'd come down hard on the old regime, cutting out those with sympathies with Voldemort and Death Eaters. It had taken years to rebuild the ministry better than ever before. But maybe they had been too harsh, some purebloods had never regained their lives and would forever be looked upon with suspicion. Even if they were not Death Eaters, their associations with them and the fact they supported their cause had marked them worse than the dark mark could.
At the time it had felt right, they had been so hurt, so angry and the world had been braying for blood.
Harry ended the charm and the rejoined the party.
The fear however, remained.