Chapter III: The Plan

After an hour and a half of going from house to house, 13 muggle-born witches and wizards were gathered outside the Evans' home: three adult wizards and one witch, two boys and two girls who were barely sixteen, three girls and two boys who had just turned eleven. One of the boys of Evans' estimated 10 underage was not home, and one adult witch refused to come no matter how hard they tried to persuade her. "I can't just leave my children," she said simply.

They were waiting for Evans. She was explaining the situation to her parents and saying her goodbyes. James didn't come with her; for the last hour and a half, he had to explain to nine parents why they are suddenly taking their children away and he frankly had enough of it. Meanwhile, he had more important things to attend to.

The whole village was inaccessible through apparition. James guessed that it was Snape who placed the enchantments to protect Lily. This was crucial to the success of James plan. But he knew it wasn't enough to repel a pest as resilient as Voldemort. They needed to add additional protective spells for the muggles they will leave behind, just in case Voldemort decides that 14 muggle-borns aren't worth pursuing when there's a whole village of filthy muggles to kill. James hoped that his enchantments would force Voldemort and his Death Eaters to run after them. Hidden under the invisibility cloak, he walked towards a nearby vacant lot and began casting the spells.

When he came back, Lily Evans was waiting outside their gate with the others looking worried and annoyed. "Where've you been?" she asked crossly. James raised his eyebrows in amusement. "I had to attend to something," he said, "were you worried?" Lily swatted his arm in response. "Stop fooling around!" she hissed, "Voldemort and his Death Eaters might arrive any second and we still don't have a plan!"

"Who said we don't have a plan?" James asked. He gave her a wink which only infuriated her even more.

He turned towards the others. They were getting restless. One teenage witch was trying to calm down a terror struck, eleven-year old girl who was shaking so hard that her teeth rattled. A dark, burly wizard in his early thirties was grumbling something about "wasting valuable time waiting for a kid to come up with a plan." Another middle-aged wizard with thinning, brown hair came up to him and told him that he was free to leave the group if he doesn't shut his big mouth. The other grown up, a lean, quiet man named Mr. Bannister, tried to come between them. Their bickering annoyed Mrs. Wilson, a witch who was in her sixties, so much that she hollered to the two men, "If you immature gits don't stop fighting, I will transfigure you both into ferrets!"

"Listen up, everybody!" James said loudly, and all was quiet as they turn to listen to him. "Before I came here, I discovered that somebody placed an enchantment on the whole village, making it impossible for anyone to apparate inside its boundaries. This means that Voldemort would have to fly in order to get here. Just a while ago, I added a few spells of my own. My spells created a barrier which would prevent anyone on air from landing inside the village's premises." The entirety of James words sank in and murmurs of uncertainty were heard among the group.

"Does that mean we need not go?" the wizard with the balding head asked sceptically.

"That's your plan, boy?" asked the burly wizard derisively, "Your spells won't keep Voldemort out. He'll find a way to break the enchantments! And you want us to just sit here, awaiting our doom, hoping your pathetic spells would hold?"

"I think he wants us to fly," said one tall, teenage boy with a thatch of blond hair. James smiled at him. "That's quite astute of you, Altaire," he said to him; then addressing the crowd again, he asked, "Who owns a broom?" Only the three eleven-year-old girls and the two bickering man did not raise their hand. "Right. I need you to get your brooms. Now you two," he pointed at the two youngest boys, "need to lend those two," – and he pointed to the two grown men – "your brooms. The youngest would be paired with the four teens and with Mrs. Wilson. The men and I would be behind you to try and parry the curses they will throw at us. We head for Hogsmeade." Within moments, brooms were whooshing through the air as their owners summoned them.

"What about me?" asked Lily testily. Now she was even more annoyed at him, thinking that he left her out of the action. "You'll be leading the group to Hogsmeade," James answered simply. "You think I can't fight alongside you men?" she accused.

"Don't worry, I'll let a Death Eater or two get past me so that you can have someone to shoot."

"You're infuriating!" Lily shouted.

"And you're being stupid!" he shot back, no longer amused. "Do you think this is some kind of a game, Evans? You want to prove your strength? And I thought I was the reckless one!"

They glared at each other for a long moment. Finally, James sighed and said, "Look, I need you in front of the group because you're the only one whom the others would follow. I need you to keep everyone together. Don't think there's going to be no danger involved. There's a high possibility that Death Eaters or Voldemort himself will get past us, and you're the only one I can trust to defend the others and make sure they don't scatter."

She looked away, chastened but not entirely convinced. "I'm Sorry. I just want to help, too. I don't like sitting around, watching my friends die while I feel utterly useless."

"Believe me you're hardly that," James said, the smile back on his lips, "and since you care so much about me, I'll promise you won't see me die. Not tonight, at least." She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling too.

Darkness descended as the last of the sun's rays sank into the horizon. "Sir," said one worried, dark-haired teenage girl to James, "do you think they're coming?" "Don't worry," he replied reassuringly, "we're ready for them." He tried to lighten her up saying, "By the way, nice broomsticks. I'm surprised you girls own one. Not all girls I know are good at flying." The girl held her head a little higher when she said, "We're Quidditch players at school."

James beamed. "Really? That's wonderful. What positions do you play?"

"I'm one of Ravenclaw's Chasers. Nicola," –she indicated the girl beside Lily– "is our Keeper. Johan there," –and she pointed to a tall, brown-haired boy– "is another Chaser."

"What about that other guy?" Lily asked, "the blond one? Altaire or what's-his-name?"

"He's the Gryffindor Seeker," said the girl named Nicola, "and every other team's worst nightmare."

James and Lily laughed, remembering their own times at Hogwarts, when all they worried about were Quidditch matches and winning the House Cup.

The half-moon rising in the sky was suddenly obscured by dense smoke appearing out of nowhere. A sinister heaviness settled upon the night air. Everyone stopped talking and turned their gaze at the night sky.

"They're here," James said with grim foreboding, "Mount you brooms, everyone."