A/N: I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up. A few weeks ago, a person I worked with was murdered. It left me with no shortage of inspiration for the story, but concentrating enough to get the words onto the page was difficult. I may not update as frequently as I did before, but it is still my intention to complete the story. I apologize again for the delay and hope you enjoy the rest of the story.

12

'Crucio!' came the silky voice that was suddenly filled with unadulterated malice, and James' world was suddenly pain. All conscious thought was eliminated, his mind felt like it had been shattered into a million small fragments, incapable of forming any thought but the reaction to the pain inflicted upon him.

James awoke with a start and realized he was drenched; he had fallen asleep and, in the course of his dreams, had developed a cold sweat. He lay there panting for a moment, and he became aware of a rhythmic thudding sound. It took him a few moments to realize it was the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

He looked around. It was approximately six in the morning...he had only been asleep for one hour. But, he decided, that was more than enough. He quickly gathered his clothes, taking care to be quiet as he neared Madam Pomfrey's office-he could hear her soft snores coming from within. He dressed into his robes and left the hospital wing quietly, almost colliding with someone else in the corridor as he did so-Albus Dumbledore.

'Sorry Professor,' James said meekly.

Dumbledore smiled down at James. 'Nothing to worry about,' he said kindly. 'I was just wondering if I might find someone who would accompany me for a morning stroll through the castle. Would you care to join me?'

Taken aback by the invitation, James nodded and fell into stride with Dumbledore. He found himself being forced to take several steps at a time, as even though Dumbledore strolled at a leisurely pace, his long legs carried him much further than James' did.

'I am assuming that you did not sleep well,' Dumbledore said shrewdly.

'It was fine,' James said a little too quickly.

Dumbledore smiled as he looked out the windows-the sun was just cresting over the mountains on the horizon. 'You have just been through a terrible ordeal, James. It is natural for your mind to wander back to it.'

James said nothing, staring resolutely ahead.

'I understand,' Dumbledore continued slowly, 'that you are having feelings of inadequacy about this.'

James stopped short. 'Did Remus talk to you?'

Dumbledore stopped as well. 'No, your friend would never betray your confidence. But, being rather clever, I have ways of hearing everything that goes on in my school,' he said with a twinkle in his eye. James gulped, wondering if he was inferring anything about their night-time excursion to the kitchens, but Dumbledore pressed no further. His face was suddenly serious. 'James, what you and your family were subjected to was a travesty. In no way whatsoever does this render you weak. Quite the contrary; it is because of the immense strength that you and your family possess that you were targeted in the first place, and it is also the reason that you yourself remain a target.'

'But why?' James asked abruptly. 'Why does Voldemort want me?'

Dumbledore resumed walking and James walked alongside him once more. 'These are difficult times,' Dumbledore said, and James suspected he was choosing his words very carefully. 'He is looking to develop a network of spies and soldiers for his eventual endgame.'

'Which is?' James asked.

'Unknown, we can only guess,' Dumbledore replied.

'And you have a guess,' James pressed.

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Yes, I do have guesses. And they usually turn out to be correct. But now is not the time to divulge in my own theoretical work. What remains important is that we remain constantly vigilant of the attacks we may face.'

James was distantly aware that they were headed once more towards Gryffindor tower. 'How can I be vigilant if they come at me in my own home?' James asked. 'We barely had time to grab our wands.'

'Disturbing,' Dumbledore said darkly. 'But there are steps we can take. I have discussed the matter with your father-your home will be relocated and given more stringent protection, since you have been identified as someone that Voldemort deeply desires to recruit. But, I have another form of protection I would like you to take up.'

James' curiosity was aroused. Some form of defensive magic?

'I understand that you and your father had a discussion about Professor Mondego,' Dumbledore said simply.

James had forgotten this point, but he suddenly remembered the details of that evening before the Death Eaters had attacked. 'Yeah,' James replied. 'They said he was perhaps the most gifted Occlumens of all time.'

Dumbledore nodded. 'Precisely,' he said. 'There are a few students who I am instructing to take up private lessons in that regard with Professor Mondego. Students who, like yourself, may find themselves to be objects of Lord Voldemort's desire. Professor Mondego will be teaching you how to protect your minds from such intrusions.'

James gulped; he wasn't sure he liked the sound of this. 'Is...Professor Mondego the only one who can teach us?' he asked.

Dumbledore smiled. 'I know that he seems rough around the edges, but he is an excellent teacher,' Dumbledore said. 'I am a sufficient Occlumens myself, but Professor Mondego far outstrips me in that regard. He has a truly remarkable talent for it.'

'And that's why Voldemort wants him so badly?'

Dumbledore smiled, but did not answer. 'I think we have arrived,' he said brightly, and James realized they were now outside the portrait hole to the Gryffindor tower. 'James,' Dumbledore said, 'Madam Pomfrey holds many draughts, some of which are remedies for a dreamless sleep. Is this something you might find useful?'

James looked at Dumbledore and then slowly shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I'm fine.'

Dumbledore surveyed him over the edges of his half-moon spectacles. 'Very well,' he said. 'Then you'd best get inside and start gathering your supplies; classes begin in only a few hours. Thank you for accompanying me for a walk-you were excellent company.'

And with that, he strolled off. James stared after him for a moment and then entered the common room.

*

Sirius was miserable. They sat around the fireplace in the common room. Peter and Remus were stuffing their schoolbags with the appropriate supplies for the day ahead. James stared into the fire, and Sirius was sprawled haphazardly across a couch, drifting in and out of sleep.

'I feel like death,' Sirius mumbled, his face half obscured by a pillow.

'You look like it, too,' Remus said dryly as he finished packing his bag. 'Are we all set for class, then?'

Sirius groaned. 'Leave it to Moony to still have energy to be excited about school,' he groaned.

Remus sniffed. 'If you applied yourself a bit more academically as opposed to reaching new heights of tomfoolery, you might be one of the better students in the school,' he said.

'Sound advice,' said Lily Evans as she strolled over. While her voice was bright, she looked equally as tired as Sirius—James, of course, knew why, but he could hardly bring himself to feel excited. 'Morning, Potter,' Lily said tentatively.

'Hey,' James said quietly.

'You look tired,' Lily said.

James looked at her and suddenly felt somewhat impatient. 'So do you,' he said. 'What kept you up all night?'

Lily's cheeks reddened. 'I—well—that is to say—shut up,' she said and she spun on her heel and stormed off. Sirius lifted his head and chuckled loudly.

'Always the smooth one,' he said with a grin.

James whipped his pillow at Sirius' head. 'Sod off,' he grumbled.

His mood had not improved much, given that they had double Transfiguration to start the day. He was irritable and short tempered. Professor McGonagall was giving him a wide berth and a fair amount of latitude on the day's school work, and James knew it—but that did not make him feel any better. On the contrary, it felt worse.

'Aren't you even going to try to turn that water into wine?' Remus hissed from the other table.

James scowled at Remus and gave his wand a sharp flick and a twist, and the water suddenly turned into wine. Admittedly, even James himself was surprised he had managed this on the first try—it was a decidedly difficult task, and this fact was hammered home by the thunderstruck expression on Remus' face.

'Excellent work, Mr. Potter,' Professor McGonagall said kindly. 'First of the class to achieve it. Take ten points for Gryffindor.'

James nodded glumly and leaned back in his chair. He caught Lily Evans staring at him with an odd expression on her face for a moment, but she quickly turned back to her own glass of water and concentrated on turning it into wine.

Sirius was not far behind James in achieving the task, and Lily completed it next. The Gryffindors were cleaning up shop over the poor Hufflepuffs that they shared the class with. Edgar Bones was grumbling about favoritism from McGonagall as they all left the classroom.

'It's not as if you managed it and she just ignored it,' James said angrily, stunning Edgar and those around them. The two had always been on amicable terms. For a moment, James was certain Edgar was going to pull out his wand—but he mumbled an apology and walked off quietly. The others were all watching James curiously, and he cursed under his breath and stormed off.

'Oi!' Sirius called, running after him. 'Slow down! For the love of—if this is what you're like when you don't get any sleep, then I'm going to have to knock you out every night.'

'Is this a joke to you?' James asked. They were quite alone in a deserted corridor.

Sirius' usually smiling face showed no hint of humor. 'How can you ask me that?' he said.

'Everyone just seems content to just carry on like normal,' James said hotly. 'I can't stand it. I don't how they can just move on like nothing happened.'

'That's not how it is,' Sirius said in a firm tone. 'James, everyone is terrified. What happened to you and your family…it's unheard of. No one knows how to react…they don't know whether to talk to you, comfort you, try and make you laugh, or just leave you the hell alone.'

'How do you know all this? It's just been the first class of the day,' James snapped.

Sirius crossed his arms. 'And in those few hours, you've managed to estrange yourself from the rest of the school. Everyone was already worried about how you would be when you got back, and all you're doing is confirming their fears.'

'It doesn't help with you joking about everything,' James said, but his voice was less hot.

Sirius' face softened. 'I'm sorry. I really am. I wish I knew…I wish I could say something to undo what happened, mate. I wish I could have been there to help.'

James snorted. 'Believe me, you don't.'

Sirius smacked James on the shoulder. 'Believe me, I do,' he said strongly. 'Remember what we said last year? We're brothers. We're family. Your experience is my experience, and your pain is my pain. When I've got you by my side, I feel like I could walk into hell itself and be better off for knowing you're there.'

James' mouth worked silently for a moment. 'I feel the same way,' he said at last. 'I'm sorry. I'm being a prat.'

'You're being human,' Sirius said earnestly. 'You've just been through…well, something awful,' he said with a sigh. 'But look at it this way…it'll just make getting Rochefort all that much better.'

James smiled faintly. 'You think it'll be us?'

'That get Rochefort?' Sirius said. 'I think we have as good a shot as anyone.'

'Dad says we're too young,' James replied.

'So? What does he know?' Sirius replied. At a puzzled look from James, he shrugged. 'Okay, he probably knows a lot. But my point is, he was our age once too.'

James nodded. 'Every great wizard has started out as nothing more than what we are.'

Sirius 'oooo'd'. 'That's profound,' he said with a grin. 'You should write that one down.'

James shoved Sirius' shoulder. 'Shut up,' he said. 'Speaking of brothers…have you heard anything about Regulus lately?'

Sirius' face darkened. 'Ickle Reggie, the perfect son,' he muttered. 'Mother and Father were over the moon, of course, that he got into Slytherin. Made certain to let it be known that at least one of their children was born with his head on right.'

'Your parents are lunatics,' James sighed.

'You don't need to tell me that,' Sirius replied.

James looked at his watch. 'We're late for class,' he observed.

'To hell with it,' Sirius replied. 'We've been too well behaved lately as it is. It's about time we skived off and got up to some mischief.'

James laughed. 'Did you have anything particular in mind?'

Sirius ran a hand through his unruly mop of hair. 'We could always go and make Lucius Malfoy's life miserable,' he said as he waggled his eyebrows.

'Too early in the year,' James said. At Sirius' disappointed facial expression, James clarified. 'We'll definitely get him, mark my words. But as he's Head Boy, he could make our lives…uncomfortable. So we need to save it for the right time.'

'Do I detect a plot unfolding in your scheming little mind?' Sirius said.

'My mind is not little, but it is definitely scheming,' James replied with a grin. 'Let's go and fill in some more of the Marauder's Map. We haven't done that in some time.'

Quidditch Practice that evening was an up and down affair. It felt terrific to get back into the sky and fly around with the wind in his hair. The tempo at the practice was high octane as they flew at breakneck speed around the pitch. All except for Cresswell, that was—his notorious habit of only really showing up when a game that mattered was to be played was on full display as he lazed about the pitch on his broomstick.

'Dammit, Cresswell, at least try to be a good influence on the rookies!' Dorcas was shouting from the goal hoop.

'You'd better be careful, she might put poison in your pumpkin juice one of these days,' James said with a chuckle.

Cresswell looked at him with a grin. 'If she keeps bossing me around like this, I might drink it anyway,' he said to a roar of laughter from James and Frank.

When the practice ended, however, James found himself cornered by Frank and Alice. 'Can I…help you?' James asked.

'We wanted to make sure you were okay,' Alice said.

'If you ever wanted to talk…I mean…well, you know,' Frank said sheepishly. James got the distinct impression that this discussion was Alice's idea. Frank inhaled deeply. 'I know how hard it is to put something like this behind you.'

Now James felt truly uncomfortable. Frank had never offered insight into his feelings about what had happened to him the previous year. 'If you ever want to talk, to be talked to, or just have someone listen…let me know. I owe you.'

'We owe you,' Alice corrected as she corralled Frank's arm.

James seized it as an opportunity to change the subject. 'Are you two…?' he asked.

They suddenly stepped apart, blushing. 'I—well—' Frank stammered.

'I forgot, it's your birthday today, isn't it?' James asked.

Alice's eyes widened and Frank looked surprised. 'How did you know that?' he asked. 'I didn't tell anyone about that.'

'Er…no one?' James asked, looking at Alice without meaning to.

'No…no one,' Frank said.

'I—it's your birthday?' Alice stammered and James felt instantly bad. She clearly had not given him his cake yet.

Frank waved his hands quickly. 'Don't worry, I didn't expect—I didn't want any fuss, that's why I didn't say anything,' he said.

'Oh, of course,' Alice said with an easy smile. 'Well don't worry! Now I know for the future…come on, we should get back to the common room. Can you grab my broom for me?'

Frank nodded and sauntered off. Alice rounded on James.

'How did YOU know it was his birthday?' she asked.

James swallowed. 'I heard it somewhere,' he said.

'Where?' Alice said sharply.

'…I can't recall?' James said hopefully.

Alice looked intensely at him for a moment. 'I'm planning a surprise for him. He doesn't know that I know it's his birthday…I got it from McGonagall,' she added. 'Don't say anything more—I'm not a good actress and I don't want him figuring out what I'm doing.'

Frank returned and he and Alice took off back to the common room. James was alone in the dressing room now. He sighed and rubbed his eyes into his hands—he felt immensely tired.

He awoke with a start—he wasn't sure how much time had passed. For one agonizing moment, he thought he was standing face to face with Gilles Rochefort. Indeed, for that brief second, the light caused one eye of the person in front of him to glint menacingly. But James' spirits were not much improved by who it turned out to be.

'Dear oh dear,' drawled Lucius Malfoy. 'Out after curfew. What shall we do about this?'