Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Co. J.K. Rowling does.
Summary: After one very eventful night ten years ago, Voldemort was destroyed and Harry disappeared. Where did he go? What happened that night? Only one man knows the answer: a teacher named James, aka Harry. This big question is, now, what are his former friends plotting?
Author's note: Whee! I'm getting better, I've got a chapter up, I've already started on my next chapter, and life in general is treating me well. Thank you guys so much for being so understanding! The climax is right around the corner… (actually, there are several climatic parts….)
Chapter 22: Flying and Spying
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Time was flying by, and soon Jacob and Emma returned from their honeymoon, the bakery had a new project in which Peter was perfecting his lemon bars for another rather large wedding request, Sarah was still hitting a certain someone over the head with hints of marriage, and James had a new class of students to teach.
Autumn passed by, and whether it was because James was trying all too hard to ignore the holiday event looming on the horizon, or because, despite all his efforts, James was agonizing over the same event every minute of every day, winter came, and with it: Christmas. The 20th of December was the doomsday (as he called it... tenderly) in James' life. That was the day he would leave for and, unfortunately for James, arrive in England.
The last week before the school's winter vacation started swept by, and it was Friday afternoon. School was done, James' room was clean, and James knew he had to go home and pack, as he was leaving the next day. He drove home as slowly as he could, packed as slowly as he could, he even went to bed as late as he could, trying to stop the doomsday from coming. But time is hard to stop, and soon the future became the present.
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A very loud BEEP was the first thing James heard that morning.
Another loud BEEP was the second thing he heard.
James groggily opened his eyes. It was his alarm clock that was waking him up so rudely at 5:30 in the morning, and it was still making noise. Of course, James had set the alarm himself in order to wake up at 5:30, but the unsympathetic and constant beeping of the clock was rude nonetheless.
James stuck out his hand and waved wildly at the clock, finally succeeding in turning the noise off, if only by knocking the clock to the floor. James blinked a few times, then sat up in bed and stretched his arms out wide, yawning.
Luis saw that James was awake and jumped onto the bed, stepping on James' feet in his excitement for some attention.
"Ow, Luis, watch where you step," said James tiredly, petting the cat fondly.
Luis did not listen to James, and the cat lifted up his front two paws and placed them on James' chest. Luis meowed and rubbed his head against James' chin.
"Luis," said James laughing, "You're getting cat hair in my mouth."
James gently picked up his cat and carried him to the kitchen. He set Luis down on the counter next to a bowl.
"We'll have breakfast together," said James getting a bowl of cereal for himself and some canned food for Luis.
James opened the cat food and put it in the bowl for Luis. Then he sat down on a stool and started eating his own breakfast.
Luis finished his breakfast quickly and turned to James to see how he was doing with his. James had about a spoonful left, and had not taken a bite in a good five minutes. He was simply staring at the wall. Luis meowed.
James snapped out of his thoughts. He smiled when he noticed the cat in front of him and gave Luis a pet.
"Sorry, Lu," James said. "I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? There! You see? Now I can't go to England, I need to stay here with you."
Luis meowed as if he whole-heartedly agreed with that idea. James did too.
"Don't make me go, Luis. I don't want to go," sighed James.
James saw that it was almost six. He slowly stood up, put the bowls in the dishwasher, and went to his room to get changed.
James soon emerged with a bag and a book, ready (or as ready as he would ever be, he felt) to meet everyone at the airport and head to England. For the first time in ten years.
James took a deep breath. Don't make me go, he thought. But he knew he promised, and he knew he cared for the Hardings, and he knew he could not back out now.
"Mrs. Rosso will be taking care of you, Luis. Don't you worry about me. I'll be back in ten days. Just in time for New Year's." James bent down and gave Luis a pet.
"Just don't throw any wild parties while I'm gone, Luis" said James, and with that, he went out the door.
James arrived at the airport with a heavy heart. He parked his car in the parking lot, the sign for prices mocking him as he paid the parking cost for "Ten days or more". He checked his luggage outside the building, trying as hard as he could not to snatch up his retreating bags and speed home. His stomach heaved with each step closer to the terminal, and James almost cried out aloud when he entered the international section.
A few people looked at him oddly and James realized how foolish he was acting. Get a grip, James chided himself. You're not going to die. London's a big place. Nobody will find you.
James took a deep breath to steady himself. He knew it was irrational to be panicking like this. He tried to reason with himself. Just take the pills a little more often. Don't worry. Worrying will get you nowhere. It's not that hard. London will be fun. Fun, don't you see? A Christmas vacation with some of your best friends.
But despite James' efforts to calm himself down, he still had a rising nausea every time he thought about where he would be at the end of the day.
But what are you afraid about? James asked himself. It was an easy question to answer. Someone seeing me, someone recognizing me, someone dragging me back to the place where all the people I cared about died simply because they knew me.
Now the annoying voice in the back of James' mind asked him a harder question: Why? Why are you afraid of all this?
Fortunately, James was spared from diving into deep personal confrontation by a shout not too far away.
"James! Hey James! Over here!"
James turned towards the sound. Peter was waving at James to get his attention. James gave a small wave and a smile (although if anyone was close enough they could easily see it was forced) to stop Peter from yelling and motioning wildly.
James walked over to the gate, the butterflies in his stomach threatening to break free.
"James! Glad you could make it on time!" said Peter, attempting to make a joke. James barely made it in time for the last boarding call, and everybody else but Peter had already entered the plane.
"Yeah, sure," answered James, failing to pick up on Peter's humor; James was too distracted with his efforts to stop his cereal from coming up.
James followed Peter onto the plane and sat down nervously. Mrs. Harding managed to give James a hug and almost everybody else asked where he had been. His only response was "Sorry."
James sat down and buckled his seatbelt. The plane backed out and headed for the runway. James felt his throat and lungs tighten. Why, oh why, he thought, am I going to the one place I do not want to go? How did I ever get myself into this? All of James' rational was gone, and his heart was filled with misgiving.
The plane took off. James paled considerably. He looked out the window and saw his home growing smaller and smaller. "No, no, no, no," he mumbled to himself, looking at the land down below. "No, no, no, no, no."
"Hey, James," asked Peter, who was one seat over, "Are you okay? You don't look so well."
James didn't turn to talk to Peter. He rested his forehead against the window and mumbled in answer, "I get sick flying."
Jacob overheard him and asked, "Are you sure? I didn't think you would be one to get flight sickness."
James closed his eyes in annoyance. Jacob's comments were getting to him. "Look, Jacob, would you just leave me alone?"
The seatbelt sign clicked off just in time, and James got up to go to the bathroom. He just wanted a few minutes to himself. James went into the small compartment and closed the door. He splashed some water on his face to calm himself down and swallowed a couple of his pills.
Jacob had been annoying him a lot lately. For the first few months Jacob had merely been quiet, probably embarrassed because he was the only one who knew anything about the real James. But over time, Jacob turned almost... angry. Angry at the fact that James was hiding who he really was from his closest friends, his family. Jacob began asking if James "was sure about that" or saying he "thought it was something different." He started to push the fact that James was lying about his identity. It wasn't so much that James was worried about the others finding out (he knew that Jacob would stay quiet and any comments he said would sound like nothing to the others), but it was that Jacob kept making James feel so... guilty. James could almost hear what Jacob was thinking. For example, with the that last comment Jacob made, James could tell that Jacob was twisting the knife by implying that he knew James used to be a seeker and could therefore not really get flight sickness.
James took a deep breath. He did not want to get in a fight. Honestly, he really did know that Jacob could keep a secret. A good bet could be made on the fact that Jacob probably hadn't even told his family who knew about magic, never mind Emma. Yes, Jacob could keep a secret. What James couldn't stand was the way that someone who knew his past could make James hate himself so much. James hated the way he felt when he lied about his childhood in front of his friends. The mere presence of Jacob made James aware of his lies, and consequently filled James' mind with disgust towards himself.
James came out of the bathroom and sat back down in his seat, ignoring the worried looks from the others. Mrs. Harding, who was sitting behind James, tapped his shoulder.
"Dear, are you all right?" she asked, concerned.
James gave a small smile. He really loved the Hardings and wouldn't want to hurt them in any way. "Yes, thank you. Planes... you know, the whole idea of flying in a pressurized tube of metal isn't exactly appealing to me."
"Well, as long as you can make it to England okay."
James swallowed, his throat once again tight. He didn't want to be rude, and forced himself to sound grateful. "Oh, and thank you so much for inviting me. I really appreciate it."
Mrs. Harding laughed a bit. "And have our first Christmas without you, since we've known you? I don't think so! You're family."
Olivia spoke up. "Yeah, I tried as hard as I could to make mum leave you behind, but she was too stubborn. Don't know what she sees in you," Olivia teased.
James laughed. "Thanks," he said wryly.
Two girls came running down the aisle.
"Uncle James!" they shouted. "Uncle James!"
Peter's brother Ryan, his wife Lucy, and their girls, Gina (9) and Nicole (6), were sitting in the back of the plane. Unfortunately, they were the only ones separated from the group. So the girls had come down to say hello to their "uncle", as they fondly referred to James.
"You're coming to England with us, right?" asked Gina.
"Of course I am!" James laughed. "Would I really want to miss a Christmas with my favorite oldest niece?"
"Yes, but not with your favoritest youngest niece!" said Nicole, smiling at her sister. Gina stuck her tongue out in response.
"Are you going to come to dinner with us tomorrow?" asked Gina.
"Of course. I wouldn't miss it." James wondered why they were asking questions with such obvious answers.
"Is it true you really lived in England?" asked Nicole.
"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?" Gina giggled at her uncle's overly exasperated tone. "Yes, I lived in England at one point," finished James.
"So, you won't leave us and stay at your old home?" said Nicole in a small voice.
"No! How could I leave behind you two?" James was amused that the girls were so concerned for him.
Poor Nicole didn't look very consoled by her uncle's answer, so James added, "Besides, my British accent is gone. The country won't take me back if I don't have a British accent."
"Really?" asked Nicole, with wide eyes.
"Yep. They would tie me up and send me back to Canada in a mail sack if I tried to live there without my accent. And they would do worse if they knew that I had left behind the two sweetest girls in all of the Americas."
"I think you're pulling our leg, Uncle James," said Gina. "They can't keep you out of the country just because you don't have an accent."
"You caught me," said James, feigning woe. "It's true! I've lied! They won't send me back if I don't have an accent. But," said James factually, lifting a finger. "It is true that they will punish me severely if I ran away from you two."
"I guess you're stuck with us," said Nicole, smiling. She was convinced her uncle wouldn't leave her.
"Darn," said James, as he gave the two girls and big hug.
"Did I answer all your questions correctly?" asked James when they pulled away.
"Oh yes," answered Gina seriously. "With flying colors."
Nicole laughed, and after the two girls said a little something to the rest of their relatives, they headed back to their seats.
The rest of the flight was relatively uneventful. Most of the family fell asleep or watched the in-flight movies, leaving James to his own thoughts. He was still nervous, and he went to the bathroom periodically when he felt about to throw up.
Soon, the plane landed in London. Everyone gathered their bags from the pick up area and hailed several taxis to take the large group to the hotel.
Mr. and Mrs. Harding and Olivia roomed together. Ryan and his family had a room. Jacob and Emma had their own room, and so did Peter and Sarah (Sarah was quite happy about this).
That left James with a room to himself. Which was a good thing, because his nerves finally got to him and he promptly threw up as soon as he entered the room's bathroom.
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Hermione and her family had just sat down to dinner when the SpySphere came into the room beeping. When it reached Hermione, silver words streamed out. "A man with 0 magic just entered the specified radius".
Hermione had set the sphere to search for anybody entering within 20 miles of London with a magic level of 0. She knew that the only person who could have that level of magic (or lack of it) would be the man she saw in the bakery, and therefore, Harry.
Hermione took out her wand and tapped the SpySphere. "Insequi. Follow James Potterson, muggle, with magic ability of 0. Record all conversations with the words "evening", "dinner", "plans", and/or "restaurant". Abire." The SpySphere promptly left when Hermione had finished.
Ron was staring hard at his wife. "Not the SpySphere again, honey?" he asked.
"It's completely necessary," said Hermione, glaring at Ron, daring him to say otherwise. "I need to know when Harry will be alone so we can approach him."
"You mean kidnap him," muttered Ron, stirring his mashed potatoes.
"Excuse me?" asked Hermione sharply.
Ron turned slightly pink. "I said... the soup's too thin?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I didn't make soup."
"No, but the dinner is still brilliant, isn't it kids?" said Ron quickly.
Emily and Jack nodded enthusiastically, wanting as much as their father to avoid an argument.
"I love the potatoes, Mum!" said Emily.
"And the fish is delicious!" chimed in Jack.
"Mmm-mm," said Ron, shoveling food in his mouth at an amazing speed. "This was a wonderful dinner. You are fantastic. Why don't I clean up? Give you a break. I'm sure you would like some nice relaxation time."
Ron finished his dinner in no time flat and soon the clanking and banging of washing pots and dishes could be heard from the kitchen.
"I think your plan is brilliant," said Emily after a while. "Can I meet Harry Potter if you find him?"
"Me too?" said Jack.
"Sure," said Hermione. "It will be an early Christmas present."
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