WE HAVE HARRY POTTER

Part 10

The day after he had rescued his father, James was pushing and shoving, and industriously elbowing people out of the way, to get to the doors of the hospital wing. There was crowds upon crowds of people, the word having reached the rest of the Wizarding World that his father was now safe, and residing in Hogwarts.

Of course, the fact that he was in a seemingly endless sleep, with no knowledge of the world around him and probable mental scarring for the rest of his life, was quite unknown.

'Move!' James shouted in frustration, elbowing yet another student out of the way, this one with bright blonde hair.

He scraped his hand through his hair roughly, wincing and losing his anger slightly when his nail dug into his scalp painfully.

'James!' A voice suddenly shouted, from somewhere in the sea of black robes. James whirled around, searching desperately for the speaker.

'James - James!'

James' Uncle Bill was making his way through the crowded hallway, with Fleur positively gliding behind him, though he did not have nearly so much trouble as James did. His scars scared off the younger years, and his famed name and participation in the war effort warded away the older years more than sufficiently. Fleur simply cast a spell upon all of the males that she was not related to in the vicinity.

'Uncle Bill!' James said, surprised to see some of his family here, in the school; he had no idea where they had gone after just last night that he had successfully rescued his father.

'What are you doing here?' James said, once his uncle and aunt had finally reached him. 'I thought you were at home or something -'

'No,' Bill said, steering his way through the crowds of younger years and nearly knocking over a sickly pale green faced sixth year who was lingering despite the hurried mass of pupils surging towards their impending lessons, 'we're all staying in the castle, didn't you know? Can't believe Ginny or Hermione or someone didn't tell you …' his face turned sober and he suddenly appeared much older than James had ever seen him, his lines enhanced and seemingly criss-crossing over his face.

'Zey 'ave uzzer things to worry about, Bill.' Fleur said quietly, speaking for the first time.

'Sorry - we aren't keeping you, are we?' Bill said, jarring to a stop. 'It's NEWT year, we really shouldn't be taking you out of classes -'

'Free period.' James interrupted him, striding ahead of his aunt and uncle and throwing the hospital doors wide open. 'And I've already done my exams.'

James grinned as he walked into the stubbornly sterile room; he could almost hear the eye rolls and chuckles occurring behind him.

The sight of those plain white curtains drawn around the bed at the far corner of the room wiped any hint of happiness or joy clean off of his face.

James stopped walking, halting to a stop as he stared at the place where his despondent father lay.

He did not think that he could do it - sit by his father's bedside as if he was simply sleeping, simply tired from just another raid on just another Auror mission, recovering from just any old injury from just another petty criminal who thought that he could take over the world.

Because this time, James had no idea whether he would wake up.

This time, his father would probably never recognise him again.

Before to intense and overwhelming urge to hit something overpowered him and consumed him, the searing rage the coursed through him at the sick person, whoever it was, that had done this to his family, James' Uncle's arm slid around his shoulders, and began to guide him gently towards the ominous cordoned off area that James was to desperately hesitant to enter.

In silence, the three of them edged through the gap by the wall of the curtains, and slipped into the seats either side of the occupied bed. James was positioned beside the window, watching other pupils of the school enjoy the nice weather without a care in the world whilst James' fell apart with a shuddering thump.

At least he was safe, at Hogwarts. At least they knew where he was. They were the only thoughts that consoled James at the moment.

'I remember when I first saw 'im.' Fleur quietly uttered. 'I remember theenking 'e was a silly leetle boy.'

'Fleur …' Bill said, holding her hand tightly, looking at his wife concernedly.

James, who had torn his eyes away from the picturesque scene outside to look at his aunt as she spoke, still avidly avoiding looking at his father's apparent lifeless body, unwilling for the images from the previous day to seep and sear their way back into his skull, as his Aunt held his gaze despite her husband's words.

'Fleur -' Billy tried to continue, but she interrupted him sharply, still locking eyes with a curious James.

'No, Bill! I was an 'orrible leetle girl. I was so … vain, why, I thought myself to be so very clever for being ze Beauxbatons champion; 'ow could a fourteen year old child compete weeth me?' She finished bitterly, with tears pooling in her clear blue eyes, the same eyes that help James captive to hear more of the story. Bill tried to stop her, but his protests were pointless. Fleur looked as if she had been holding this in for years.

'But eet was 'Arry zat saved ma petite soeur! Not me, 'Arry! It was 'e zat won zat blasted tournament. Moi - I couldn't fight off some puny Grindylow! My seester could 'ave died!'

'Fleur, they weren't really going to leave them there -'

James wished his Uncle would stop, he hadn't received this much information or detail about his father's exploits ever before.

'But 'e steel did eet!' Fleur exclaimed, crying and shaking. 'I would not 'ave lasted five minutes after what 'e 'as been through thees past month, and you know eet! None of us would!'

She paused, gulping, beautiful even in the floods of tears, calming herself before carrying on.

'If there ees one theeing zat I 'ave learned from your father, James, eet iz zat you should never give up. Your father ees so strong, James, 'e will pull through. I can't imagine 'im not. 'E would never forgive 'imself.'

'I'll go and fetch some tea.' Audrey said quietly, standing up slowly so as not to make too much noise or commotion, and to make sure her bones did not seize up from sitting so still in the same position for so long.

It had been two days since James had found his father, and he really did not want tea.

But he nodded anyway.

James had finally looked at his father, properly, for the first time that day, before Audrey and Percy had come to visit.

He had felt ill; sickly purple and green bruises coated his dad's arms, and undoubtedly the rest of his depilated body too, though James could not be paid any amount of money to look any closer. Small cuts and abrasions littered his face, from the tiny little ones that could only be seen if you looked for them properly, to the scars that were the same size as the rather ominous one that stretched from James' dad's jaw to beyond the hairline on the left side of his face.

Of course, the deathly pale skin and clammy, useless limbs went without saying.

James had refused to look more fully after that horrifying experience, and was, needless to say, incredibly grateful for the impeccable timing executed by his Uncle Percy; ever the politician.

'How are you doing, James?' Percy said suddenly, his voice croaky and raw, evidence of what the whole family had been going through throughout the duration of James' father's captivity.

'Coping.' James said shortly, eyes still staring unseeingly out of the window by the chair that he had claimed as his own for as long as it took.

Percy made a noise that signalled his agreement, and they slipped into silence once more, before Percy spoke again, sounding angry and wry with himself.

'If you'd have told me a few years ago that I'd be sitting by Harry Potter's bedside willingly, worried to death about his welfare, I'd have laughed in your face.'

James looked up in surprise. He knew that his uncle was referring to the time that he had fallen out with his family - and specifically James' father. What surprised him was that Percy was talking about it willingly - or at least he was doing so without being told to "Shut up," and that "it was a long time ago and I will personally see to it that you get on the wrong side of the Auror and Mysteries Departments at the same time if you mention it again." by James' dad.

'I thought I was right. I thought I could be the Minister of Magic, and single-handedly get rid of all that was wrong with the world.' Percy laughed, but there was no joy in it. 'I really was an idiot.'

There was a pause, and then James spoke; 'I'm sure you weren't that bad.'

'James,' Percy said, staring at him in the eye, regret filling his own, 'I disowned my family for two years.'

Shocked, James could only stare at his Uncle when he continued speaking.

'I'm surprised that they took me back, to be honest. I was horrible. Slammed the door right into my own mothers face, one Christmas. I honestly thought that some kid had wandered into my life, and stolen my family from me.' Percy paused, and seeing what must have been a mixture of anger and shock on James' face, he carried on.

'I was wrong, James - I know that now. Please don't hold it to me. I've carried around that guilt for years now; and I haven't told any of your cousins. None. Please don't tell them, we've tried hard to not let you all know everything about what happened. Not until you're ready, anyway.'

There was a pause in which James' Uncle looked at him pleadingly. James didn't know what to think; was he to be thankful, for his parent's and Uncle's and Aunt's consideration his mental well being? Or should he be angry, and annoyed, that they had kept such vital parts of the legacy that he was expected to carry from him?

'I am ready. I think I've been ready for a long time.' James looked at his Uncle's guilty face. 'You know I have. You lot've just been putting it off.'

'You can't begrudge us not wanting to relive it all again, James. It was - hard. Just hard. You don't need to drag yourself down with that just yet.'

James felt himself puff up angrily.

'I'm seventeen, I'm not -'

There was the clip-clop of James' Aunt's shoes as they interrupted him in the middle of his angry retort, efficiently cutting away all possible malice in his speech. Before James looked to his Aunt when her mousy brown head emerged from behind the thin cotton curtains, he saw a flash of regret and sympathy crossing his Uncle's face.

'What've you two been talking about?' She said sharply, brown eyes swivelling between their guilty faces.

'Percy?' She said again, looking at her husband. 'If you've been talking about what I think you have -'

'I'm sorry, Aud. He had to know -'

'Not right now, he doesn't!'

Audrey's hiss was so highly pitched that James thought that even an octave higher, and it would only be heard by bats or dogs.

'His father is lying comatose in a hospital bed! Does he really need to know about a war at this point in time?'

Percy shook his head almost eagerly, eyes looking terrified as he hurriedly pushed his glasses up the bridge of his sweating nose.

Chest heaving, James' Aunt sat down heavily on the chair that she had previously been seated in.

'All you need to worry about now, James, is your father.' She glanced angrily at her recoiling husband. 'As your uncle and I previously agreed, you don't need to think about something stupid that your Uncle did more than a decade ago.'

Settling into her chair, Audrey crossed her arms over her chest and looked down tenderly at her Brother-in-law, eyes changing from anger to sorrow in the swiftness of Ronald Weasley running for a spider.

There was a long pause. Percy straightened up, and, looking more confident, spoke.

'Tea, love?'

Audrey's growl answered him, and it was the first time James had smiled all day.

'Your dad's an idiot.'

James' Uncle George's voice cut through the stagnant air easily - but in the silence, you could have heard something as small as a pin drop.

'George!' Angelina screeched at her husband from the seat beside him, and James looked on in no small amount of amusement as George shrank away for a moment, and then came back stronger and braver.

'It's true,' he said to his wife, 'it really is.' He turned to James, and then said; 'He probably got caught by accident, the toss -'

'George, for Merlin's sake!' Angelina said, elbowing him roughly on the arm.

'But it's true!' George protested and repeated once again. 'He probably caught because of his stupid nobility.' Rolling his eyes, he looked down wryly at his brother-in-law. 'Git.' He said absently. 'We always told you that your saving people thing would come back and bite you in the -'

'Please!' Came the loud shout of Angelina as she clutched her husband's arm hard. It looked painful to James, considering the wince that his Uncle let show on his face.

'I can't - don't -' James' Aunt stuttered, brown eyes filling with tears as she slowly began to lean into George's welcoming grip. 'Please don't - I can't listen to you talking about him - when he might -'

Despite the jittering, it was clear to all who heard what Angelina meant. She, along with James, did not want to hear about the times that his father had almost been killed, or his tendencies that made him almost get killed. Not when he was so close to death now.

'Sorry Angie,' George said to his wife tenderly, wrapping an arm around her as she leant into him silently.

James felt almost as if he was intruding on some sort of private moment between his Aunt and Uncle, and so he averted his eyes, instead looking down at his father.

He wondered just what he had been through, during the time that he had been held captive. It had to have been both extensive, and extraordinary, to render such a great and strong man into this state, whatever the man in question might say.

James had never experienced much danger of any sort. There had, of course, always been an underlying tome of it throughout his life; what with his father's job and profile, it was hard to avoid it. It was only at that moment that James truly realised just how sheltered his parents had kept him, and it was only at that moment when James realised just how little he knew about the war and his family's rather large part of it - from what he gathered.

He could not, however, find it in his heart to begrudge his parents, or aunts and uncles. This period in all of their lives was far too difficult and treacherous for James to start whinging like some petulant child about the hardships of his pampered life.

He was drawn out of his solemn thoughts by a high-pitched whirring sound echoing from the office of Madame Pomfrey. Looking up, expecting to see the relatively unbothered faces of his Aunt and Uncle, James was surprised, and more than a little worried, to see their faces similar to what he supposed his looked like - confused and worried.

'What's that?' James asked urgently, rising from his seat. 'What is it?'

'I don't know,' George said, frowning, as he drew his wand. 'I'll go and have a -'

Madame Pomfrey came steaming out of her office with her face ashen but set in a business like vice; eyes staring straight ahead at James' father as he lay in the bed. She cut off James' Uncle with the efficiency of a Niffler hunting for gold.

'Move!' She barked, shoving a recovering-from-tears Angelina out of the way as James jumped back in amazement.

'What's wrong?' George said, panicked as he watched Madame Pomfrey begin to run her wand over and around his Brother-In-Law's head. James was glad he asked; the very same question was hovering on the very tip of his tongue, too.

'There's been a spike in his brain activity.' Madame Pomfrey murmured quickly and quietly, not bothering to inject emotion into her voice when there was what seemed to be a vital job to be done.

There was a loud gasp, and cries of amazement, before James and his Aunt and Uncle all descended upon Madame Pomfrey like Vultures to a corpse.

'What does that mean?'

'Will he be all right?'

'Is that good?'

'Is Harry going to wake up?'

'Dad's going to be fine?'

'What does "spike" mean?'

Pausing, and straightening up with a dangerous glint in her eye that had James silenced and taking a step backwards involuntarily, much unlike his Aunt and Uncle, Madame Pomfrey turned towards the three of them.

'Out,' She said quietly, a knarled finger pointing towards the door. 'I cannot, and refuse, to treat my patient with three jabbering buffoons shooting questions at me! Out!' She began shuffling them out of the door angrily. 'Out!' The Matron repeated.

Before he knew it, the doors were slammed and locked behind him.

There was a pause, and then;

'Well, somebody's a bit moody today.'

'Oh George,' Groaned Angelina with a long-suffering expression on her face.

All three of them paused, looking at each other warily.

'Do … do you know what's happening?' James said timidly, watching as his Uncle's face turned from mildly amused to deadly serious in the space of just a few seconds.

'I wish I did,' he said, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets and leaning against the cold stone wall. 'But I don't. I think it's either really good, or really bad.'

Sighing, James joined him. His Aunt positively melted into her husbands side.

What if it was something really bad? James thought, with a sickening weight settling slowly in his stomach. What if his father never woke up? What if he was wedged in this semi-conscious state forever, never being able to walk Lily down the aisle, or see his children leave school, or hold his Grandchildren, or moan at another Memorial set up in his name - or never speak to James or Albus or Lily or James' mother ever again?

What would they do then?

Sniffing slightly, James looked down, and was surprised to feel salty tears welling up in his eyes. When did he start crying in front of other people?, he thought angrily, swiping away the tears, hoping that his Aunt and Uncle would not notice.

'James?' Came the annoyingly soft voice of his Aunt. 'Are you all right?'

'I'm fine,' James said gruffly, coughing.

'No, you're not,' came the sullen voice of James' Uncle George.

He moved his hand from James' shoulder, where he had placed it mere seconds ago, and positioned it underneath his chin. Slowly, James made eye-contact with his Uncle.

'I'm sorry we haven't been paying much attention recently.' He said softly. 'We should have. We didn't think. I'm sorry.'

'You've got nothing to be sorry for -'

'You're too much like your dad for your own good.'

James felt the tears welling up in his eyes at the mention of his father.

'It's all right to cry,' George said, moving his hands to both of James' shoulders, and kneeling down slightly so that their eyes were level. Angelina looked on silently.

'Everyone does it,' George continued, 'Merlin knows I have over the past few weeks.'

James looked at his Uncle deeply.

'I'm scared.' He admitted, and then he started crying fully, just at the same moment that his Uncle enveloped him in a strong and warm hug, that crushed him and kept him safe from his problems for just a short while.

- You don't know how sorry I am about how late this update is. All I can do is apologize, hope you enjoy it, and say that this is hopefully an adequate Christmas and New Year treat. Hopefully 2013 will be the year of many updates!

- Spellmugwump97