Chapter Twelve for you! Thanks to the reviewers!


"I know that Harry Potter is my father."

"RON!" shouted his Aunt Hermione, "I think you need to get in here."

"What?" asked Ron, walking though from the bathroom, his face half covered in shaving foam.

"I know that Harry Potter is my father." James repeated.

"Oh...I think we had better get Professor Dumbledore." He strode out of the room in the direction of Dumbledore's office. James and Hermione stood in awkward silence, waiting for Ron and Dumbledore to arrive. They came back not two minutes later, Dumbledore not looking too calm.

"James? Repeat to me what you have told your aunt and uncle." He said.

"For the third time – I know that Harry Potter is my father."

"How?" was the only word that could escape Dumbledore's mouth.

"In the tin that had the wand in it, there was also a photo, of my mum and him. He looked exactly like me, so I assumed that he was my dad. But I didn't know his name, so I researched the scar on his forehead."

"And did you find anything?" asked Dumbledore.

"No." said James, looking down sheepishly.

"Then, how do you know that the man was Harry Potter?" said Ron.

"A few days ago when I was in muggle London with mum getting some school supplies, I walked straight into a man who seemed to recognize me. His wife came over and called me 'Potter', so I pressed them for a little more information and they told me that they once knew Harry Potter, who looked like me and matched the description of the scar I gave them." Explained James.

"Tell me James – was this man, slightly overweight, with a moustache?" asked Dumbledore.

"Yes, but how did you..."

"And the woman had a face like a horse" asked Ron, catching on.

"Ron!" snapped Hermione, hitting his arm.

"Yeah, she did..." Replied James, thinking back. Ron turned to look at Dumbledore, uttering one word of clarification;

"Dursleys?"

"It would seem so." Nodded Dumbledore.

"What? You know them? Who were they?" asked James in confusion.

"They were Harry's aunt and uncle. They were not particularly fond of him or wizards in general." Explained Dumbledore.

"Oh...right. So, he is my father?" asked James.

"Yes, James." Sighed Dumbledore.

"You said he wasn't – you said he and my father were different people!" shouted James at his aunt and uncle.

"Yes...we did..." said Hermione looking awkward. Dumbledore saved her.

"Your Mother did not end things with Harry on good terms; she didn't want you to know he was your father because of it." He improvised.

"Right. Now I know you were lying about that, is he actually dead? Can I meet him?" said James, getting slightly carried away.

"I am sorry James, but your father is indeed dead." Said Dumbledore, sadly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I think it would be a good idea, if you took a walk with me."

James looked down with sadness. For a brief few seconds he had been filled with hope. Hope that he could meet his family. Hope that he and his father could bring down the Empire, like he had always dreamt of – together. But most of all the hope he could finally have a real family. Then that hope was dashed.

He and the old Professor walked out of the bedroom and along the corridor, up a set of stairs to his office. His office was much like the one had been forced to vacate at Hogwarts; full of bits and bobs, Fawkes on his perch and the occasional book.

James had never seen any of this and looked around in awe; he was directed to sit down. His eye caught the magnificent bird that sat upon the perch.

"Wow, Professor. I didn't know you were bonded with a phoenix."

"Ah yes, this is Fawkes. He has been my companion for a long time now." He said, smiling at his friend.

"He is beautiful." Said James in awe. Fawkes crooned in approval. James though remembered why he was here.

"Professor...my dad..."

"I brought you here in order to answer any questions you may have. Do you have any?"

Questions flooded his mind; he simply didn't know which to ask first. Sadly the most morbid of them came to his lips first.

"How did he die?"

"Well, James. He died, sadly like so many did at the time; Voldemort killed him. This was just before the Empire was established."

"Oh..."said James looking down, "I read in Hogwarts a History that you fought with him and that he fought Voldemort a few times."

"I indeed did fight with him, and it was my honour and Hogwarts: A History is correct he did fight Voldemort a number of times, but what it doesn't say is that he beat Voldemort on a few of those occasions. He was a truly talented individual." Dumbledore smiled at the memory.

"What was he like?" asked James.

"Well that is perhaps the broadest question you could ask me!" he chuckled, "He was the epitome of a Gryffindor." James frowned.

"Ah James – the real Gryffindor, not the insult Voldemort has created. I am talking about Gryffindor that is symbolised by the mighty lion, where the ideals they hold are bravery and nobility. Harry would do anything for his friends; he put them ahead of himself. He believed in getting the best out of people. He was quite the Quidditch player and a good man."

They spent around an hour discussing things about Harry, from his mischievous side to his academic record. James had laughed, frowned and gasped at the stories of his father that he would never know. The subject changed as the evening wore on;

"Tell me James, how are your studies going?" asked Dumbledore.

"Fine, I suppose..." said James, although lacking confidence.

"The tone of your voice suggests otherwise." Said Dumbledore.

"Well, it's...my wand." He explained.

"Oh?" asked Dumbledore.

"It just isn't working. For me. Not like, the one I used when The Hunter came...whose wand was that anyway?"

"That wand, I am afraid is extremely dangerous, and one that I would not feel happy with you using." Said Dumbledore.

"Oh – well why did my mum have it?" James asked.

"That is a question which is not up to me to answer, I am afraid. But I think we could have a solution to your problem." James perked up at this statement.

"Really! What is it? Do you have a spare wand? Are you going to take me to Ollivander's?" he asked eagerly.

"No, no" laughed Dumbledore, "My solution is to create a wand that works for you. You see, the core of the wand you used to cast a stunner at The Apprentice, is a phoenix feather. That same phoenix is sitting in our office as we speak." Fawkes chirped at this.

"Fawkes? Really?" asked James excitedly.

"The very same. And I am sure that he would be more than willing to donate a feather to you, should you not see any improvement with your current wand."

"That would be great! Thanks Fawkes."

"Now, James, I believe you have transfiguration first thing tomorrow morning - it would not be proper for you to be tired for that – to bed!"

"Thank you, Uncle Albus. What you told me tonight, it means a lot."

"It was no inconvenience to me, dear boy. None at all."

As soon as James had left the room, Dumbledore grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill and wrote a note;

Ginevra,

I need you to come to my Office immediately. It is of the utmost importance.

Albus.

He passed it to Fawkes, saying "Can you please take this to Ginny. Thank you old friend."

The phoenix flashed away, returning moments later empty taloned. He paused for a few moments, standing up to get himself a drink of water, waiting for Ginny to arrive at his office. Soon enough there was a knock on the door, followed by Ginny bustling in anyway.

"Professor? What's wrong? James is all right isn't he?"

"Calm yourself Ginny, he is fine. I do though have some bad news; you may wish to sit down." She complied, looking extremely worried as she did so.

"I am afraid to say that James has found out the identity of his father." He sighed, breaking the news bluntly and quickly.

Ginny, however took the news rather well. She sighed looking down in sadness.

"I always knew he would find out before we told him." She laughed wryly, "He is too much like Harry not to."

Dumbledore chuckled, "I have certainly noticed more than one similarity myself."

"How did he find out?" asked Ginny.

Dumbledore explained it too her.

"Sometimes I forget I am a witch, leaving the wand and the photos in a tin under my bed, is not sufficient protection." She grumbled. "How did he take the news that he is supposedly dead?"

"Ginny," sighed Dumbledore, "You must realize that Harry is dead, only the Apprentice remains."

"I know, Albus" she said with exasperation, "But saying that is losing the last bit of hope I have that there is still, deep down, some good in him. When I saw him at The Burrow he didn't attack straight away! Maybe...just maybe..."

"The fact is – even if he didn't attack immediately – he still attacked."

"I know...but back to the point, how did he react?"

"He took it fairly well. He seemed to be inquisitive about him mostly, so I told him some innocent tales about Harry's misdemeanours with Ron and Hermione and his Quidditch matches."

"Did he ask why Ron and Hermione had told him Harry and his dad were two different people?" asked Ginny nervously.

"He did...I had to be fairly spontaneous with that – I told him that you and Harry were not on good terms when he died. Not good terms at all."

Ginny groaned. "Well that isn't exactly a lie..."

"He also spoke to me about the wand." Said Dumbledore.

"Oh...well. I have already said, I would rather he didn't use it, but if you have changed your mind and now think that its a good idea, then I suppose its ok..."she said.

"No Ginny, I still think it is a very bad idea. Usually I base all my decisions on fact. However this time I am simply using superstition. Both users of wands with those cores have turned to the dark side. I will not risk it with James." He said adamantly.

"Well he has said to me that my Uncle's wand hasn't worked..."said Ginny, who seemed to be airing a lot of her problems to Dumbledore that night.

"Yes, he mentioned that to me as well. I said I would see about making him a wand with one of Fawkes' feathers...a white lie as you can tell." He smiled. "I will find him a better wand though. I will."

"Thank you, Albus. I don't know what we would do without you. I had better go to bed now; I am continuing my advanced Healer training with Poppy early tomorrow. Goodnight Albus."

"Goodnight, Ginny." He smiled as she left. When the door shut he leant back in his chair, shutting his eyes and rubbing his temples. In a situation like this he would often have a lemon drop to enjoy, but he had given up sweets for as long as the empire was in power.

He would often suck on a sweet when thinking, not tonight. There was one thought he had been secretly theorising on these past few weeks. It came to the forefront of his mind after the subject of the evening; Harry Potter. He would keep this particular thought to himself, however, it would not be proper for others to find out about it. Not proper at all.


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