I settled down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for breakfast, looking forward to spending my free periods that morning practising for our upcoming Quidditch match with James and Peter. They, along with Remus were already there, having given up on trying to get me out of bed early, and I wasn't surprised to see that they were sitting with McKinnon and her friends. I sat next to Remus, and mumbled hello to everyone, starting to pile food onto my plate. Our half-awake chatter was interrupted by the arrival of the post; James had received a letter from his parents while Evans' owl dropped a newspaper just about in her breakfast.

I watched Evans unroll her paper while I ate my bacon, and saw her draw in a big breath, eyes wide in horror as she took in the front page of her Daily Prophet. Exclamations of shock broke out from other students around the Hall who were seeing the same thing.

"What is it, Evans?" I asked, her, leaning over the table to look at the paper. She spread it out so I could see too, and I took in the picture upside down, feeling like I had been punched. Plastered across the front page was a picture of a burning house, with a green symbol floating above it; a snake coming out of a skull. The headline read "Muggleborn home attacked", but I didn't need the words to tell me what I was looking at. I knew that symbol, had seen it sealed onto letters coming in and out of my parents' house, a flash of dark ink painted into my cousin's wrist while she waved goodbye at me, flaunting it on purpose. It wasn't the mark that hurt, it was the fact that I recognised that house; I had been there with Prongs and his parents in the Summer. It was the home of the Shacklebolts, family friends of the Potters.

"James," I said in a low voice, trying to keep it from cracking. He broke off the quiet conversation he was having with McKinnon to look at me, surprised by my tone. I took the paper out of Evans' hands, ignoring her protest, and spun it towards him.

He took in the paper with a look of horror, grabbing it desperately and flipping to page 2 to read the rest of the story.

"Are they alive?" I asked, holding my breath as he read the page, his eyes darting backwards and forwards.
"Yes, he sighed in relief. "They weren't home." He quickly scanned the letter his parents had sent him in silence, while everyone else at the table shared the paper around in shock. I saw McKinnon's eyes fill with tears and remembered that her parents knew the Shacklebolts too. As I watched Evans comfort her, James stood abruptly from the table saying; "I have to go to the Owlery," and started to walk away.

I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should follow him. The Potters had made it very clear over the holidays that I was to consider myself a part of their family, and I wanted to be with James while he wrote to them, but at the same time I felt like an intruder. I'd only met the elder Shacklebolts once, and their son Kingsley a few times, whereas James had known them his whole life. I was hesitating, when he turned back to me with a look of impatience. "You coming, Padfoot?" he asked quietly and I stood immediately, following him from the table.

As we walked away I heard McKinnon ask Remus and Peter "What was that about?"

We walked towards the owlery in silence, me trailing behind James' long strides. Halfway across the lawn, James spoke "What even was that green thing?" he asked. I knew it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but couldn't help answering him, my frustration and anger spilling out. "It's the mark that Voldemort uses, " I told him. "He seals his letters with it, he tattoos it on his followers and apparently he marks the skies with it when he has done something truly fucked up." James looked at me carefully, slowing his pace so we were side by side.

"You've seen it before." Not a question, a statement.

I nodded bitterly in response. "He invited my family to a dinner discussing "political matters of importance"," I said, putting airquotes around the words I had read on the top of the invite before my mother snatched it out of my hands. "That was the night that I left home."

James nodded slowly. I had never told him the details of my fight with my parents on that night, and I was grateful that he had never asked. I didn't want to see the look in his face when I recounted what they had done.

"How do you know about the tattoos?" he asked, cautiously. As many times as I had told James how much my family disgusted me with their pureblood beliefs, he was still careful not to insult them for fear of upsetting me and I knew he was wondering which one of them it was I had seen with the tattoo.

"Bellatrix," I told him, the name tasting bitter my mouth. "I ran into her at Diagon Alley while you were in the broom shop with your parents and she tried to convert me to their cause. She's mad, thinks he's the saviour of the wizarding world." James didn't respond so I continued, glad to be able to say out loud what I had been thinking since that encounter before school started back. "I actually think she's in love with Voldemort himself as much as she is with his crazy, power hungry ideas. She was like a fourteen-year-old with a crush when she talked about him."

James laughed at that, and I smiled too, despite my bitter anger.

"Well, I almost feel sorry for the guy then," James said as we reached the owlery. I wouldn't want to be pursued by Bellatrix Black. Still, can't have too much sympathy for a lunatic who believes in blood purity, can you?" He asked and I murmured in agreement.

I stood quietly while James wrote to his parents, reading over his shoulder.

Dear Mum & Dad,

Thanks for writing about the Shacklebolts, I saw it in the paper this morning. I'm glad to hear they're all ok, and I'm sure you're taking care of them, so be careful. They didn't deserve that - it's truly not fair. Sirius and I send our love.

He looked up me, "Want to add anything?" he asked.

I shook my head silently, so he signed off and started to roll the parchment up and attach it to his owl's leg.

"It could have been her," I said quietly, watching him try to convince the owl to stand still.

"What?" James asked, distracted.

"It could have been Bellatrix that burnt their house down. Or Cissy's boyfriend, Malfoy. It could have been one of my cousins or my aunts or uncles. It may as well have been my parents - they wouldn't do the dirty work themselves but I'm sure they're celebrating it." The words were bitter, my body flooded with anger and disgust.

James considered me carefully for a moment, before he answered shortly. "Yeah, it could have been one of them."

"I hate them!" The words exploded out of me, startling the owls on their perches. "I hate them, and their beliefs and that I'm related to them!"
"I know you do, mate," James said, cutting off my angry energy by wrapping me in a hug. "And that's what matters. You can't help who you're related to or what your relatives do and believe. But you don't believe it, and you hate that they believe it, and that's what matters - that's who you are." He told me seriously, and my heart clenched at his words.

"Thanks," I mumbled, close to tears as we stepped away from each other. "I appreciate that. But I don't know if I would be who I am without you to stand next to. If I had been put in Slytherin ..." I trailed off, my mind going through the familiar 'what-if' scenarios it had ran so many times.

"But you weren't put you in Slytherin, because of who you are." He told me. "And I am here, and so are Moony and Wormtail, so all those other what-ifs' don't matter. Now, stop thinking about them and let's get to Transfiguration - we're going to be late as it is. I smiled weakly at him but didn't protest further, following him towards the classroom silently.

We arrived at class ten minutes late, but to my surprise Dumbledore didn't seem angry.

"Sorry Professor," James apologised. "We had to write to my parents. Urgently." Dumbledore nodded in understanding and I realised he must know the Shacklebolts too. I settled in next to James, our friends turning around with sympathetic looks. Even Evans gave us a small smile and mouthed "sorry" at us. I shrugged at her in return, pulling out my wand to start on the spell we were working on. As everyone began practising the incantation and the noise level grew, Marlene turned around and placed a piece of parchment on the desk in front of James. I looked at it interest, but it was blank. She bent over her desk in front of us, writing notes -and then the parchment in front of James started filling with words. Hey James. A pause. Remus told us they were your friends. I'm really sorry, and I hope you're ok. James didn't move, looking at the parchment in confusion, so I took it and wrote under Marlene's message How does this work? As I wrote, her words disappeared.

Magic, came the quick reply above my fading scrawl. You write on yours, I see it here. I write on mine, you see it there.

James snatched the parchment back.

That's brilliant! And yes, I'm ok. Just wanted to write to my folks about it so they know we're ok.
Lily's idea and spellwork, we use them all the time. Marlene responded. And I'm glad you're ok. I'm here if you want to talk.

Thanks. James wrote back with a soft smile on his face. I studied him curiously until he turned back to me. "What do you want, Padfoot? he asked me.

"Nothing." I told him. I'm just surprised, it seems Remus' crazy plan to get you over Evans might be working."
James thought about that a second then shrugged. "It might just be at that." As he said it I realised that although that was the answer I had expected, it wasn't the one I had wanted to hear. I didn't want to analyse that thought any further, so I just laughed, bumping his shoulder with my own as we got back to our classwork.