Disclaimer: It's all J. K. Rowling's.

James looked around at the bleak countryside, confused. He was sure he'd meant to Apparate into his living room, but that was quite distinctly not where he was. Frowning, he tried again, but he wound up in the middle of a slightly different—but equally barren—moor.

Then it came to him. There must be some sort of protection charm on his house that did not allow anyone to Apparate into it. He Disapparated again, this time with the aim of winding up in the front garden. When he managed to blink away the dizziness, he found that he had reached his destination.

James entered the house, removed his coat, and called, "Mum!"

"In the study!" came the response, and James was relieved to hear that the words were not slurred.

James pounded up the stairs but slowed down in the hallway, inserting his presence gently into the room his mother had named. "Hello."

A bottle of firewhiskey, open but still full, sat on the table beside Mrs. Potter, along with a dry glass. Her hands rested on the table, fingers tapping erratically. "Hello." After a pause broken by finger taps, she added, "What are you doing here tonight? Has something happened at school? Are you expelled? Did you quit? Has there been an attack?"

James smiled faintly. "Everything's fine, Mum. Dumbledore gave us the evening off after the meeting, that's all."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"The meeting today made me think more about something that's been on my mind for a while." James took a deep breath. "When we all graduate . . ."

"'We'? Who exactly is 'we'?"

"Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, and me. The five of us. When we all graduate, what are we going to do? I mean, we'll fight for the Order, but—it would be bloody amazing if we could do all of this without asking to Order to support us."

"What other option is there?"

"The house, Mum, for one thing."

"This house?"

"Think about it—we have so much space. It could easily hold six of us. We've proven that again and again. Wouldn't that be better than paying . . . well, four sets of rent?"

"I—no. I don't . . . I've been meaning to talk to you about this, too. This house . . . it runs in your father's family. It was always his. He's—he's not here; he's not a ghost, and I'm glad he had enough closure to move on. But he's still . . . here." She paused, and then concluded with feeling, "I need to get out of this house, James."

Now there was a longer pause. James breathed and then breathed again. "Okay. Okay. So how's this going to work?"

"I'll sell the house, if you don't object. It would go to you next, so I suppose I should ask. Otherwise, I can move out and you can move in, I suppose."

"No, go ahead and sell it. It's—I love the house, but I get what you're saying. It is . . . Dad's."

"All right then. I know how much rent costs, and food. I'm doing what I can for the Order, and I'll keep doing that as long as it's needed, and then we'll see what happens after the war. I'll keep as much as I need after I sell the house. The rest would be yours when I died, anyway. If it helps you and your friends fight for the Order, take it now. I don't need it."

"What?"

"Your father was the one who cared about being rich, James. Not me. Give me a roof and some food, and I'll be fine."

"You mean it?"

"Only if you bring down some Death Eaters."

James grinned. "I don't think any of us could live with ourselves if we didn't."

"Then, yes. I love Sirius like a son, and Remus is a lovely boy, and Merlin knows somebody's got to take care of Peter, and you love Lily. Do you expect to be taking care of the five of you, with the inheritance?"

"Not quite." James ran a hand through his hair. "Sirius mentioned something about an inheritance from a disowned uncle. Alfred or something. So he might be all right. I'm not sure. Peter's got a bit of money, I think, and he might try to keep up the family business while also fighting for the Order, in which case he'd live above the shop. Lily—well, Lily would be coming with me anyway. That leaves Remus. Merlin knows how I'll convince him to let me, but I think I'll wind up supporting him."

Mrs. Potter looked around at the walls surrounding her. "There should be enough money for three of you, for a while."

"You mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it."

"Then thank you." James stood and hugged his mother tightly. "I should probably get back to school."

"I'll send you an owl if someone buys the house."

"Thanks. And Mum?" James said over his shoulder as he opened the door to leave the study.

"Yes?"

"Please don't drink too much."