Summary: L/J love/hate. James discovers some secrets in his seventh year that turn his life upside-down and haunt him years afterward. Will these secrets affect his friendship with his fellow Marauders or his never-thought-possible relationship with Lily Evans?
Author's Notes: Just a quick note ^.^" Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter and will enjoy this one! ^.^"
DEDICATED TO: everblue3. For the best dang review I've gotten in a while! ^.^
Disclaimer: I own no one! ^.^"
Of Hidden Truths
(Years Past)
"You're awful, Mr. Potter!" exclaimed a girl as she giggled on the other side of a counter, opposite of an elder James Potter, whose lips quirked into a bit of a smile.
"I'm not," he said, leaning against the counter with his elbows supporting him, "I'm creative, that's all."
The eleven-year-old brunette smiled brightly at him before leaning forward and whispering, "Dad says you're a trouble-maker," as if it was a grand secret that she shouldn't have told him.
James stood straight, chuckling while adjusting his glasses. "Well, I used to be," he answered before catching an elder woman's gaze, which looked as if it would kill him if he did not relinquish the small girl's attention. "I'll tell you about it later though. Mrs. Dauzart looks like she wants your attention." He pointed over to the old woman, who waved the small girl over.
The girl looked saddened to go but turned around to head over to the other side of the bookstore.
James, feeling guilty about disppointing her, called out, "Oh, Leslie!"
The girl turned around as James came over and slipped some candy into her hand, whispering mischievously, "If Mrs. Dauzart asks, don't tell her you got it from me."
Leslie looked up at him in awe. "You're the best, Mr. Potter!" she exclaimed before running off toward the older woman, who greeted her with a smile.
Smiling lightly at his good deed for the day, James went back behind the counter, picking up a discarded magazine before frowning and tossing it in the trash can.
"She can never say an adult's first name, can she?" asked a familiar voice. James looked out of the corner of his eye and spotted Neil O'Connor leaning against the counter nearest to the door.
"She's just really polite," he answered, idly moving things about on the counter before turning his full attention to Neil with an amused look on his face. "Besides, I'm not much of an adult myself."
This was true, as James was only nineteen--barely considered an adult in some areas. "What are you doing here anyway, Neil?" he asked, curiously.
The tall, muscled construction worker shrugged dispassionately. "Lunch break," he stated before looking over to James, grinning. "No one to talk to."
"Lunch already?" asked James with some surprised as he quickly looked to his watch for confirmation.
How he hated that watch...
He shook his wrist as he realized it said the time was nine minutes after seven.
Neil chuckled. "Didn't notice?"
James gave him a mock dark look. "I've been inside all day. Unlike you, I'm not allowed to see the sun," he said, monotone.
Neil chuckled again. "You have too much energy to work here, if you ask me," he said, gesturing around the bookshop.
James shrugged, nonchalant. "The kids keep me entertained," he said before he noticed the other man's disgruntled look.
Neil didn't exactly have a soft spot for the little midgets.
"Besides," James added, just to point the fact out to Neil yet again, "I like kids."
The bigger, elder man snorted. "Not surprised," he said, not allowing the younger man to get away with that comment unscathed, "you're still one yourself."
James gave him a blank look. "Funny." He leaned back to look into a door that lead to the backroom before shouting, "Jess!"
There was a thump and a bang before a woman's voice shouted in pain, "OW!"
James blinked once before peering into the room, where a small, chestnut-haired woman was sitting on the ground with books scattered all around her and on her as she rubbed her head, swearing. James looked over to the shelf that sat innocently before the fallen woman. He sighed, "When are you going to learn about that shelf?"
The woman, Jess, winced as she rubbed the sore spot on her head. "I think being hit in the head erases it from my memory," she said before standing, ignoring the poor books that had taken the fall with her. She glared at James, possibly blaming him for her unfortunate accident. "What do you want anyway?"
James suppressed a smile. "Letting you know I'm taking off for lunch," he told her, jerking his thumb behind him at the door, where Neil was sticking his head in to see what had happened.
"Yeah, yeah," muttered Jess as she turned to pick up the books, "have fun."
"Thanks," said James before he exited the room, beckoning Neil to following him. "Let's go."
"I don't see why you don't go out with her," said Neil as they exited the bookshop which, outwardly, didn't look too different from any of the bookshops that could be found in Britain. James looked back at it for a second, having to take a moment to remind himself that he wasn't in Britain but in the United States. He shook his head and let Neil walk slightly ahead of him.
"She's too old and not my type," he answered simply, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looked at the ground, remembering a certain person that he hadn't seen in two years.
"What is your type?" asked Neil curiously.
James felt a pang in his chest. "Redheads."
Neil looked over to him before sighing. "Okay...so what is it today? Cafe or apartment?"
James made a face at the latter choice. "My flat makes me sick, looking at it," he said, feeling queazy just thinking about the state of the small place he rented.
"You're too British for your own good," said Neil as he frowned at the British term. The larger man tended to forget at times where James was from until the younger man unconsciously used a phrase that reminded him.
"Yeah, thanks," said James sarcastically as they continued to walk down the sidewalk. The street was emptied, save for the few cars that came by and the pedestrians that included themselves. "And here I though two years was long enough for my accent to go away," he added with the same amount of sarcasm as they paused at a curb.
Neil chuckled lowly. "Yeah, right," he said before they started crossing the street to get to the near-by cafe. "So Cafe then."
The Cafe soon came into view, and Neil put a large hand onto James' smaller shoulder as he laughed goodnaturely and steered him toward the entrance. "Come on, my turn to buy."
***
"What can I get you?" asked a waitress as soon as they sat down in a booth that was next to the Cafe's window. There was music coming from the jukebox, though James ignored it since it wasn't really of his tastes at the moment, and the people that were in the Cafe were teenagers that were holding several conversations at once, dressed in the most recent style in America, which could only make James shake his head at the whole thing.
"Coffee," answered Neil quickly, though he eyed the waitress for a moment.
"Just iced tea, if you have any," said James, not at all feeling like having the chalk-flavored caffine-charged drink. The waitress nodded and walked off.
Neil leaned back a bit to follow her movements before looking to James and gesturing to the departing waitress. "Stacey's a redhead," he said rather bluntly.
James stared at him for a moment, stumped. Of course Neil wouldn't understand that he couldn't stand the thought of going out with any women. Neil was a man who enjoyed his pleasures and didn't understand why anyone would turn such things down. James decided to just raise his eyebrows curiously and ask, "Red hair and blue eyes? Come on, Neil."
Neil frowned. "Don't like blue?"
"Not really," said James distractedly. He put his face into his hands as a pair of green eyes entered his vision. "Just forget it," he nearly groaned as Neil began to say something else. "I've got a bloody headache."
"I thought I told you not to think that hard," said Neil lightly, chuckling.
James lowered his hands and smirked a bit before looking out the window. "I ignored you," he said, following the line of joking. He then furrowed his brow into a frown. "Hey, Neil?"
"What?"
"What is that?" James placed his finger onto the window, pointing to a brown speck that was perched atop a red car that was parked in front of a clothing shop. The brown fleck ruffled its feathers, its head turned toward the Cafe for a moment before it took off.
"An owl," answered Neil, confirming James' fear. "Why?"
"They...don't normally come out during the day...do they?" asked James, uncertainly. Maybe there was a chance that the bird had been just a regular owl, having nothing to do with the world he had left behind two years ago.
"Don't ask me, Pal," said Neil with a chuckle as he leaned back into his seat.
James' face paled slightly before he stood. "I'll be right back," he said, quickly backing away from the booth, gesturing behind him toward the vague direction of the restroom. "I've--I've got to go to the loo."
As he turned and nearly raced to the restrooms, he heard Neil shout out, "Bathroom, James! Bathroom!"
James closed the door quickly and leaned against it as if he were shutting out his memories, though they were continuing to plague him. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose, the earlier headache returning with a vengeance.
"Ruddy bird," he muttered to himself as he stood there, pushing everything away. "Bloody paranoia. He can't find me here. I know he can't--"
He jumped as he felt someone knock on the door.
"Hey, James?" called Neil with some concern. "You okay in there?"
James replaced his glasses on their perch on his nose, hesitating. "Er...actually, I'm feeling a bit...erm..."
"Sick?" Neil supplied. "You gonna be okay?"
"Don't worry," said James, reassuringly. "You-you should head back to work, shouldn't you?"
There was a pause from the other side. "I guess," was the answer, slow in coming. "You sure you're all right?"
"I'll be fine," said James firmly with some small amount of irritation. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the concern, it was just that James hated lying to Neil and was growing tired of having to reassure him of being all right when he knew that he was certainly not fine.
James listened at the door for a minute before sighing and making his way to the sink, leaning against it as he looked at his reflection. His dark hair was just as shaggy as it had always been, never seeming to want to settle down into a normal position. Grey eyes framed by a pair of glasses that tended to slid to the middle of his nose stared back at him with weariness, sadness, and a small trace of fear.
James blinked a few times before scowling and turning on the water. "Need to stop being an idiot," he muttered to himself, taking off his glasses and setting them on the sink's side before he cupped his hands under the cool water. "Spy an owl after two years, and you get scared."
He splashed his face with water once--twice--before rubbing his face and then peering at his fuzzy reflection, frowing. "What would Si--"
He stopped that question before he could finish it, sighing as he reached over to get a paper towel and dry his face.
***
Wearily after a day's work of two part-time jobs, James approached the door to his small, rented apartment, only to groan in frustration at the note that had been aggressively stuck under his room number.
Rent Due.
"Bloody hell," he swore as he ripped it down from the door, over half of it remaining as it had been jammed tightly between the numbers 2 and 7. "Can't the damned old hag wait until I get paid?"
He scowled for a moment before unlocking his door and stepping in. The place was small, the living room being separated from the kitchenette only by a small island. The living room itself was cluttered with a couch, two chairs and a half-broken coffee table that was using two piles of books as legs. Luckily, no one could see the titles of the books, or they would have notice that some of them were quite odd as they had titles such as The Standard Book of Spells, which was one whole leg consisting of Volumes I through VII, all of them in worn condition.
Near the small hall that lead to the small bedroom sat a very small closet that was stuffed with what remained of James' trunk, which had suffered much during the past two years. A broomstick, covered in dust, was hidden at the top of the closet, supported only by a long-lasting Sticking Charm. It was this closet that James opened and tossed his light jacket into before shutting the door and turning to sit on the couch to watch the small television set that sat on the kitchenette island, facing toward the couch.
Before he could sit down, however, a tapping noise at his window made him look over and then jump back against the wall, his breathing quickening with partial fright and partial surprise.
There, on the window sill, sat the same brown owl that he had seen before.
"B-bloody owl," he stuttered, slowly unsticking himself from the wall and approaching the window. The owl stared at him for a long moment before pecking impatiently at the glass and then hooting indignantly.
This only served to start James' temper.
"Go away!" he said angrily. "Shoo!"
The owl screeched angrily and ruffled its feathers before pecking at the window again.
"Go away!" shouted James with a furious and desperate tone. "Go away and leave me alone, you ruddy HOOTER!"
The owl seemed to finally get the hint, though it glared angrily at the wizard in the small room. Its feathers still ruffled, it screeched once more before taking off, leaving James in his living room feeling shaken and drained.
That owl had definitely not just been an ordinary owl. That owl belonged to a wizard.
A wizard that had been his closest friend.
***
"I think he has a phobia of birds."
"They fly all over the place, and he's never minded before."
"Maybe it's owls then."
"Does it really matter?"
"He looked scared stiff, Jessica! I seriously was worried about him!"
"It's just a phobia. An irrational fear. Drop it."
"Drop what?" The two people whom James considered to be his friends spun toward him, Neil with surprise clearly showing one his face and Jess with only a curious look as if she seemed to know he had been listening in.
...well, that's how she had looked right before she fell off of the ladder she had been standing on, knocking the shelf with its books down onto her. "Oww! Oh--damn--owwww!" she cried as she sat up and clutched her sore head.
James immediately went to her side while Neil did the same, worry as well as amusement on his face. "Sorry about that. Did mean too--"
"No, no," said Jess, waving him off. "My fault, my fault. Owww..."
"You all right?" asked James as she got herself into a standing position, his hands out toward her as she wabbled uncertainly on her feet for a moment.
"I'll be fine," she insisted with some annoyance as she rubbed her head, shooing his concerned hands away as she headed over to a near-by chair. "Go...shelve books or something. Owww..."
James gave her an uncertain look. "All right..."
He had only just left the room when there was another crash and Jess shouting, "Shit! Damn it! JAMES!"
Neil had raced out of the room as soon as the crash began and was trying to lead the thoughtful-looking man out of the store. James, however, didn't help very much with the escape idea as he planted his feet firmly onto the ground and muttered, "I forgot about that..."
That was when she appeared at the backroom's doorway, absolute murder on her face. Neil noticed this and pushed his friend forward. "Uh, James. Running would be a good idea--"
"JAMES POTTER! GET YOUR SORRY ASS BACK HERE!"
"I think she's getting slightly carried away," said James with a frown as Jess quickly made her way toward the two men, her face red and something trailing behind her.
Neil turned his friend toward him and said in a serious manner, "James, buddy...nothing is more horrible than a woman scorned." James gave him a confused look before he was shoved toward the door, Neil shouting, "Run for the hills, you dumbass!"
That was when James saw the wicked grin on Jess' face as she approached. That crazed look that could only mean one thing.
"Splendid idea!" exclaimed James suddenly with some anxiety as he opened the door and exited the bookshop. "Cheerio!"
"JAMES!" he could hear Jess roar from the inside as he immediately headed to his apartment, the only place to find sanctuary from the elder woman's rage.
***
"Hey, James? You here?"
"Who's calling?" James stuck his head out of his bedroom to look toward the door. "Ah! Neil!" he said cheerfully as he exited his room and walked into the living room. "Hiding from Jess as well?"
Neil gave a snort of laughter. "Yeah right," he said, tossing himself onto the couch and propping his feet up on the broken coffee table, making James wonder if he would ever notice the books that was supporting it. "Actually, I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the movies."
"Movies?" asked James curiously. "What's showing?"
Neil shrugged. "No idea, but I'm bored as hell. What do you say?"
"I'm not sure," said James, thinking about the other job he had in a few hours. He was already 'taking a day off' from his first job at the bookshop and couldn't really afford to miss out on paid hours. "I guess we could--"
"What was that?" asked Neil, looking around the room curiously.
"What?"
Neil then looked to the window, narrowed his eyes studiously, and stood up from his position on the couch before walking over to the small window and bending over to study the brown bird that was perched there, feathers ruffled. "There's an owl--"
Blinds fell over the window, obscuring the bird from view.
"I swear someone's trying to terrorize me," muttered James as he walked back away from the window without another look.
"With owls?" questioned Neil with a curious look toward his friend.
James looked back toward Neil with a pointed, yet slightly cynical expression. "Do all owls carry letters?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Eh..."
James sighed and shook his head as a pecking sound came from the window. "Ignore it. It'll go away," he said before going to his kitchenette to find some food. "So when's the movie?"
"I guess at seven," answered Neil, sounding slightly curious about the whole owl thing but not willing to bring it up again. "You okay with that?"
James thought about it before nodding, realizing that it wouldn't really clash with his other job. "All right," he said and turned to the other man, who was just taking his leave. "And Neil? No blind-dates."
Neil, who suddenly took on the expression of having his 'hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar,' chuckled and said, "I swear, you're psychic or something," before opening the door and leaving.
Again, a thoughtful look came onto James' face. "Funny," he said to himself with amusement. "I was horrible in Divination."
***
"Ahem."
"What?" asked James with some annoyance as he looked up from a magazine to see Jess watching him impatiently.
She snorted none-too lady-like. "Some gentleman," she said sarcastically. "Not even one 'I'm sorry.'"
James sighed. "It was just a prank."
"Uh huh," said Jess blankly, "and it was just me who was the victim, wasn't it?"
"Can't you take a joke?" demanded James, quickly losing his patience with this conversation.
Jess, however, glared at him, apparently not wanting to end the conversation until she got her apology. "You jerk," she said angrily. "Think I'm funny, don't ya?"
"Not in the slightest," was the dry reply as James stood up, gathering his things as it was almost the end of his Saturday double-shift hours.
As he retreated to the door, however, she called, "Oh, just you wait, James Potter! You might dish it out but can you take it?"
"I can," he simply answered, opening the door.
"Bet you can't."
Now that did it. He was tired of her stating things such as that as if she had known him all her life. What did she know anyway? It was just a prank! Just because he played a prank on her didn't mean that she could automatically declare she knew how he was like.
"You'd lose," he responded slowly, stiffly, not moving from his position at the door. "I can take a lot of things. A small prank by you is nothing."
"What an ego!" she exclaimed, and James turned to see her tossing her hands into the air.
"No an ego," he stated coolly. "Just a fact."
Jess rolled her eyes. "Sure. Fine," she said impatiently before jabbing her index finger in his direction, "but I want you to listen, Bub. I will not take another prank like that again. I'd hate to fire you since you're just a kid--"
"I'm nearly nineteen. I'm not a kid--"
She sniffed haughtily at this. "Compared to me, you are. I'm thirty-six. I've been an adult for a while now and you, my little Brit, are just a little boy."
"Thanks for sharing that enlightening information," said James sarcastically before turning away again. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have to be going."
He managed to escape the bookshop before she could say anything more. Continuing down the sidewalk toward his apartment, he felt the anger he had felt ebb away and sighed. He supposed that he should have apologized for the prank chair that he had planted in the backroom, but honestly, it wasn't as if he planned the shelf thing as well. It was just an innocent, friendly prank--
"Hey, Buddy," a man asked on James' right. James looked over to see the suspicious-looking man leaning up against the wall of the building, face hidden by shadow as the sun had already begun to set. "Got the time?"
Brows furrowed at the familiar-sounding accent the man had, James looked cautiously from the man to his recently-fixed watch. "Yeah, it's six fifty--hey!" he shouted as the man took off down the sidewalks. "That's my wallet! Get back here!"
So the chase went, the man in front with James right behind him, never managing to get ahead as the man sped down alleyways and continued to lead the young wizard into the darker, older areas of the small city-like town. Then, after what seemed to be hours, the man stopped, cornered by a dead-end alley. This, however, didn't seem to bother the man at all as James haulted a few feet away, panting with exhaustion of having to chase after him.
The man, facing away from James, fiddled with James' wallet, peering into it before groaning and folding it back up. "Oh, this is pathetic," he said before tossing it back to James over his shoulder. "You can have it back."
James, though he was still panting slightly, gave him a suspicious look as the wallet landed at his feet. "Just who are you?" he demanded.
"I'm wounded," said the man with a hurt tone, not turning to face James. "Don't you recognize me, James? Have you really been around the Muggles that long?"
James immediately pulled out the wand he had concealed in his jacket pocket and aimed it at the man's back, shaking slightly with anxiety and fear of finding out who the man was. "No more jokes!" he shouted firmly. "Turn around where I can see you!"
The man gave a dramatic sigh before looking over his shoulder, his features obscured by the darkness still. "Kept your wand, did you?" he asked before shrugging and turning around with a grin. "I suppose some applause is in order."
James almost didn't hear the sound of the slow, mocking claps coming from the person's hands. He was so surprised at who it was that he dropped his wand.
It just couldn't be.
"Si-Sirius?" he questioned, eyes wide in astonishment.
Sirius Black cocked his head to the side, his now-shorter dark hair shifting along with his movements, and gave a somewhat wicked, yet thoughtful grin. "I love it when people say it like that," he said with some amusement, before looking upward in thought and nodding as if coming to a decision. "Makes it more entertaining--"
James didn't want to stick around for Sirius' musings and used what he had thought to have been Sirius' moment of distraction to make a run for it. He didn't, however, count on the other young man to suddenly appear in front of him with a crack, making him skid to a stop as the other man lazily twirled his wand with a friendly grin that was betrayed by the angered look in his blue eyes.
"I got my Apparation License, James," he said simply as though he was talking about the weather. "I believe that's twenty Galleons you owe me--" James tried his luck again to try to run but was quickly caught by the back of his jacket my Sirius' quick hand. "Hey, just where do you think you're going?"
James struggled to get Sirius to release him and only succeeded by slipping out of his jacket, leaving Sirius frowning at him with the jacket in his now white-knuckled grip.
"You shouldn't be here!" hissed James, not trying to run this time as he realized he was out-matched by Sirius without his wand. "Damn it, he'll find us!"
Sirius knit his brow together in confusion. "Who?"
"Sirius," said James, suddenly becoming desperate, "just go. Go! I left for a reason, and you're only making matter worse by--"
"Now you're just babbling," interrupted Sirius before disappearing and then reappearing beside James with another crack. Grabbing James' arm and tossing him his jacket and wand, Sirius then gave him a serious look and said, "I think this calls for a talk. After all..." A somewhat malicious grin appeared on his face, "...a lot can happen in two years."
***
"Sit." James was shoved onto the couch by Sirius, who then took a moment to look around the apartment, immediately bending over to study the books that were supporting one side of the coffee table with a frown.
"Sirius," James immediately began to say as Sirius moved away to examine the television set, fiddling with the antenna. "Sirius, listen to me--!"
The other young man spun suddenly spun toward him with such an angered look on his face that James couldn't help but shrink back into the folds of the couch.
"No, you listen, James," said Sirius in a calm yet angered voice. "I've been searching for you for two bloody years, and you better damn well listen to me!" The shout was met with silence as Sirius then combed a hand through his shorter hair, his shaking hand evidence of how angry he was.
"Merlin..." he swore before trailing off and, putting his hand onto the kitchenette's island's counter, looked away. "Went with your crazy idea then? Left us to hide amongst the Muggles? Left me, Moony, and Wormtail to deal with the full moons with no help? Left Lily in tears, babbling about something she tried to tell you--"
"Sirius--" James attempted to say, only to be silenced by the glare Sirius sent him.
"What was if for, James?" he demanded loudly. "Why did you leave?"
There wasn't a reply.
"ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!"
Wincing from the bellow, James then attempted to answer, "I...I can't--I can't, Sirius!"
"Why not?" shouted Sirius, suddenly moving toward James and then away, as if he was resisting doing something painful to the bespectacled young man. "Why--why the hell not?"
"If you hate me this much for leaving," said James loudly, matching Sirius' volume, "you'll hate me more because of my reason!"
Then Sirius froze, a dumbfounded expression taking over the anger. "Hate...hate you?" he questioned as though he didn't understand what the two words meant. "James, I'm mad, I'm angry, I'm confused, I'm frustrated--!" Again, Sirius made several jerky movements as he began to pace the floor for a moment before stopping and giving him a slightly surprised look, looking as though he had just realized what James had said.
"I don't hate you," he said slowly, more calmly. "Why would you ever think I did?"
James winced at the question. "Because...because I wanted you to." He looked away from his old friend's startled face. "I wanted you to hate me...so that I could hate you back, so I could--so he wouldn't--"
"He?" asked Sirius, sounding as though he was echoing something he had heard before. "You mean Voldemort?" When there was no answer, Sirius jerked to the nearest wall, looking as though he would punch it.
However, he managed to rein in his anger just as quickly as he had almost unleased it. "Damn it..." he said softly, almost eerily so. "Didn't we go through this already?" He turned back to his old friend with an almost stunned expression. "James, Voldemort hasn't tried--"
"Only because I didn't give him an answer!" interrupted James loudly.
Again, Sirius' brow knitted itself together in confusion. "An answer? To what?"
James, however, had looked away, had turned away from his friend again to try to hide the answer to his question, wishing he could take back what he had said. He couldn't, though, and the thought of not being able to made him sick.
"James? James." Knowing that he wouldn't be able to run this time, James turned to a suddenly docile and calm Sirius, who looked more saddened than angry. "I'm not mad anymore. I just want to know why you ran and what answer you didn't give Voldemort."
James watched him for a moment, suddenly seeing the weariness in his old friend who had been searching for him for over two years as well as looking after Remus during the full moons. Then, he looked away, not able to stand it anymore. "...you don't hate me," he simply said in a soft voice.
"Of course not," said Sirius as he sat in one of the chairs on the side of the couch. "Voldemort must have said something or done something to get you all scared enough to run. I just want to know what it was."
James sighed, hanging his head, feeling as though this was the moment before his 'execution.' "Do you promise...not to hate me? No matter what I tell you?"
"I promise," said Sirius without a hesitation, making James look up to him again. "I swear, James. On our friendship, I swear I won't."
Seeing the firm and determined look on his face was almost encouraging, which was the reason the words came out without getting stuck in his throat as they tended to do when he spoke about it aloud to himself.
"That day...the day I left...that afternoon after you woke me up...I found a note that told me to meet you at the edge of the Forbidden Forest," he began, his voice hoarse and his mouth dry but as they didn't hinder his speech, he continued, "I went but found out that it was a trick. Death--Death Eaters cornered me. They bound me and blindfolded me and lead me into the Forest before Portkeying us to Voldemort."
Sirius, having noticed how his friend's voice was beginning to shake, attempted to interrupt the tale, "James--"
"Don't interrupt," said James quickly, looking away again. "I'm giving you your answer and it's easier to get over it and done with."
When Sirius didn't say anything, he sighed and rubbed his forehead, continuing, "As soon as we got there, they removed the bindings and blindfold and gave me back my wand that they took when they had cornered me. Then...Voldemort came.
"He came and no matter how hard I tried to stop him, to make myself not listen...he told me things. Secrets kept in the dark because they were just as dark. I didn't want to believe it--any of it--until I spoke with Dumbledore." That was when he voice began to break as he remembered that day two years ago, "Dumbledore...he knew...he somehow knew the secrets Voldemort had revealed. He made the fear real. I couldn't stay. Voldmort threatened to take your lives if I..." He choked slightly as he remembered the Dark Lord's words.
'Are you willing to risk your friends' lives? That quiet werewolf friend of yours? Or that clumsy, yet caring boy? Perhaps the rambuncious one, who has a witty remark for every-other response? Maybe even that lovely Mudblood you've recently become attached to? Deny me and only you are to blame if they come to an...untimely end.'
"I couldn't though!" shouted James, shaking his head quickly to dispell the memory. "I couldn't join him!" He paused for a moment, taking a few breaths before continuing, "...but I couldn't let you all be hurt because of that. So I left without giving an answer. He's still waiting for one, but I..."
He looked up, pleading with his friend, who watched him with grim fascination. "...please, Sirius, I know I was selfish; I know I still managed to hurt you all--"
"Stop it, James," said Sirius with a sigh, closing his eyes, not willing to see James in such a state. "You weren't selfish. It would have been better to see us hurt by you than killed by him, right?"
James nodded sadly. "That's pretty much it," he agreed before sighing and burying his face in his hands. "I'm such a cowardly bastard..."
"Literally or figuratively?" asked Sirius in a poor attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
"Both," muttered James sourly.
"Er...James...you do have a father--"
"Let me make this plain," said James, lifting his head from his hands and looking Sirius in the eye, "my name's not supposed to be 'Potter.'"
Sirius looked at him with confusion. "You were adopted?"
James laughed hollowly. If only that had been the case! "My mum was my mother, but my dad isn't my father."
Sirius then frowned "Where are you going with this?" he asked, not understanding his friend at all.
Again, the other young man looked away, ashamed. "Have you ever head of one person being an Heir to two things?" he asked and could almost hear Sirius' silent negative. "Neither have I until that afternoon." He looked up and said with an almost crazed grin on his face, "Guess what I am, Sirius. Just take a wild guess."
Realization made Sirius' face go slack, his jaw lowering slightly in surprise. "James..."
The grin that had been on James' face melted away as he quickly began to feel like crying.
Sirius knew.
"That was why Voldemort didn't kill me off," he explained, his voice bitter, cracking with the tears he had forbidden to fall. "Why kill off the boy who, though he was the Heir of Gryffindor, was also his own Heir? That's why he tried to get me to join. That's why I ran."
Again, he looked away, the shame overcoming his ability to keep his eyes on his friend. "I don't blame you if you hate me now."
There was a short pause.
"I swore I wouldn't, didn't I?" demanded Sirius, sounding almost insulted. James turned to him in surprise, noticing how his friend had his arms crossed in his indignant stance. "James, you're not the only person with a horrible father. Hell, my mum's just as awful with my dad right behind her!"
James had to assume he did the goldfish impression fairly well at this information. "I thought--"
Sirius snorted, looking to the side, at the upper part of the wall on his right. "Yeah, I did kind of lie to you about them. They work for the Ministry--that's true--but they hate me." The bitterness that had crept into his voice then dripped into his words as he said, "'The only Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin.' 'The only Black not to believe Purest is best.'"
He glanced at James out of the corner of his eyes. "They've already pretty much disowned me. Burned me off the family tree."
James felt stunned. "I...didn't know..."
Sirius then turned back to James with a sympathetic look in his blue gaze. "It's okay, James. It doesn't matter. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I don't care who the hell's blood you have in you. You're still you, and if you're not a Potter, then I don't know who is."
A slight smile appeared on James' face. "Seriously?"
"Yeah..." said Sirius slowly, as though he was talking with a mentally-challenge person. "It's my name, after all."
James chuckled. "Still running that joke, I see."
"Expected any less?"
"I suppose not."
"But I was serious, James." Sirius looked at him with a pointed look, looking just as serious as he claimed to be. "I'm a good example of an exception. So are you."
James rose an eyebrow. "I suppose we're more alike than we thought," he said wryly, almost deadpanned.
"Oh, ew..." said Sirius with a disgusted look on his face, which made James chuckle a bit. "I should hope not."
Again there was a long pause before Sirius sighed and stood up. "Well, I'd better tell Remus and Peter the good news--" he began.
"I'm not going back, Sirius," interrupted James quietly, knowing the reaction.
Sirius' temper was back with a vengence. "Why not?" he demanded.
James immediately jumped to his usual answer, "Because--because Voldemort will find me!"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, James. We can take care of ourselv--" He stopped. "Wait a minute..." He looked to James, realization again coming onto his expression. "...you don't want to tell them why you ran, do you?"
James looked to his hands, caught. "I wouldn't have told you if you you hadn't dragged it out of me," he said, slightly angry that he had been uncovered.
"A good thing I did!" retorted Sirius before pausing and then saying calmly, "Look, I know I'm a hypocrit--"
"You bloody well are!" shouted James.
"--but," continued Sirius, ignoring his friend's outburst, "I'm telling you that the others won't CARE!"
"And Lily?" demanded James suddenly, without thinking. "What about Lily?"
Exasperated, Sirius tossed his hands in the air with a small sigh. "What about her, James--" He stopped again. "Oh, I see...'absense makes the heart grow fonder,' right?"
James sprung from his seat, face red. "Stop joking around!"
"Who's joking?" queried Sirius seriously. "Well, James?" When he didn't get an answer, the young man walked over to his friend and pointed to his eyes, nearly whispering, "Look me in the eye and tell me--lie to me--that you didn't miss her."
James paused only for second, mistakingly looking his friend in the eye and then turning away just as quickly, giving him all the answers he needed. "Bloody hell! Not this again!"
"Admit it!" shouted Sirius as James distanced himself from his friend before he could cause him serious harm. "Admit it!"
"Look," said James seriously, "I have more to worry about than that!"
"You brought her up!" exclaimed Sirius, tossing his hands into the hair in slight exasperation.
"I KNOW I DID!" James exploded before cursing to himself as Sirius gained a smug look. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Sirius crossed his arms and shrugged, nonchalant. "What can I say? One of the few reasons I wasn't a Slytherin was because I was too hyper."
James shook his head. "Listen. Lily and I are--or were--strictly friends. For all I know, she hates me even more than any of you could!"
"...you really are an idiot, aren't you?"
That gained Sirius a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind," said Sirius, waving it off before narrowing his eyes at his friend. "Look, James, we've all missed you. We want you to come back--"
"I can't." James shook his head furiously, eyes closed. "I can't, Sirius!"
"Stop being a bloody coward, James!" shouted Sirius with frustration. "You've had two years to run, now you need to go back to where you belong!"
"Belong?" echoed James in disbelief. "Where do I belong, Sirius? Certainly not on Dumbledore's side and never on Voldemort's--"
Sirius ignored him and continued, deadly serious, "The war's been brewing, James. Voldemort's attacks have been taking place all over Britain. We need help! The Ministry is in chaos. The Aurors have lost almost all sense of order. Death Eater have been attacking Muggles left and right--"
This information nearly staggered James. "...I can't..."
"You can!" insisted Sirius loudly. "I understand you're scared, James, but you should be more afraid because the war has started and we're all fighting."
"But..." James began to object before trailing off, suddenly leaning against the wall, looking as though it was the only thing that was keeping him standing. "Who can I trust, Sirius? Dumbledore...he lied to me...all those years--"
"Have you stopped trusting your friends?" The question was so soft-spoken that James had to look up and over to his friend again.
"If you have to join someone," said Sirius, looking just as firm and determined as he had looked before, "join us. Remus is what people would consider a dark creature, but he'd never side with Voldemort. I myself am a traitor to my family, which is full of Voldemort supporters--"
"You don't understand," interrupted James, shaking his head. "Voldemort said if I opposed him, he'd go after you."
Sirius smirked. "That's why we've joined an Order."
James gave him a startled look. "What?"
Sirius had somehow managed to discreetly pull out his wand and was now holding it patiently in his hand. "Think on it, James," he said seriously. "All of Britain's suffering under Voldemort's campaign. We can't afford to lose to him."
With that and a small crack, he was gone.
Not a moment afterward, James slowly sank to the ground, feeling suddenly weak, almost broken. Then a tear fell and with its fall, come the memories of what he had tried to lock away. His past at Hogwarts with his friends. Sirius, Remus, Peter...Lily...he had left them all...
...and yet Sirius claimed that none of them hated him. Claimed that they all wanted him to come back. Was that true? Or was that just Sirius' wish?
How could he go back? How, with Voldemort breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a mistake? Waiting for him to be weak...weak like he was right then?
Who could he trust?
'Have you stop trusting your friends?'
'If you have to join someone, join us.'
'I understand you're scared, James, but you should be more afraid because the war has started and we're all fighting.'
'You've had two years to run, now you need to go back to where you belong'
It's okay, James. It doesn't matter. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I don't care who the hell's blood you have in you. You're still you, and if you're not a Potter, then I don't know who is."
For two years, James had been dreading being found and having to explain himself to his friends. He had been afraid that they wouldn't understand, that they would toss him away...
...was it worse to be afraid now that one of them had understood and still wanted him to stay?
'We'll stick together through thick or thin, right?'
Would they?
Author's Notes: Okay, so I lied last chapter. Sirius was in this chapter ^.^" Wow...this chapter went a lot better than how I thought it would go. And look! It's in line with the canon! Go me! ^.^ Anyway...now it's time for the responses. ^.^"
lena-jade: Couldn't wait to see what happened? Well, more laughs, but more drama too. ^.^" I rock, don't I? *attempts to have an ego* ^.^" *watches ego deflate* Erm...*pokes* Yeah...^.^" Thanks for reviewing!
Polaris: Thanks for the review, but I really do think that James would have been near tears in chapter one. Wouldn't you if people were pressuring you to admit that your mother was gone and you were denying it? ^.^" Thanks for the review anyway.
little-lost one: Updated ^.^" Hope you enjoyed the read!
Rosanna: Oh, yeah, I remember emailing you about the itallics and bold. How's that been going? But still...hours reading? Dang! You didn't have to go and do that! It isn't THAT good! *blushes* Thanks for the lovely review ^.^"
Them Girl: Yes, poor James. And it's getting even better. ^.^" Thanks for reviewing!
everblue3: *blushes* Oh, wow...excellence of writing, plot, and character development *continues to become read* I think you're going a bit over-board there. I'm glad you appreciated the humor ^.^" I have to say that I didn't think anyone would think it was funny. ^.^" I know what you mean about the idea of James being the son of Voldemort, but you have to admit it is very interesting when though about. ^.^" I dunno if I wrote it 'beautifully' but I did try hard at that part. *blushes again* Well, I have to say that this was a review that gave me my up for the day ^.^" Thank you for the wonderful review and for telling me why you think it is so wonderful. I really do appreciate it when people tell me why they say they love it rather than just saying they love it. Thanks so much!
Reluxi: Yeah, about that author stuff...I don't think I'll be able to take it out until I'm finished with this fic. Lol. Oh, well. Yes, yes, Star Wars. You can tell I'm a lover of it, can't you? Surprising? Was it really? *puzzled look* I don't know how I managed that. *shrugs* Oh, well. Lol, I know what you mean about waiting for Book VI. Hopefully I'll have my sequal out and almost done by then, but I don't it at the rate I'm going...*sighs* Evil? Who's evil? Me? *innocent look* It was the Moogle! (Moogle: Kupo, who me, kupo?) Yes, you. Now go away *kicks Moogle away* Ah, yes. The Pensieve scene. I have to say that I still believe that James was a jerk right then, but ALL the time. You wouldn't believe how many debates there have been at Fictionalley.org about that *rolls eyes* Yes! I waited three days! *cries* But I have to say that it is now my second favorite book (the first being PoA, who didn't see that coming?) even though...he...*is in denial* He isn't dead, I tell you! He isn't! And I'll prove it in my sequal *shakes angry fist* Lol. I have to say that I kind of agree about the Pensieve scene. I wasn't at all surprised but everyone said that they were! I mean, I even expected that James and Snape would have gone at it! And I usually don't anticipate these kind of things! Oh, don't worry about rambling. I do it all of the time *innocent look* ^.^" Thanks for reviewing! You know I love it when you do! ^.~!
morrigan: Oh, I hope I won't make you hate this fic just because of what I do to James! *blushes* Oh, stop buttering me up. I'm not that great. And of course there's gonna be a sequal. ^.^" Thirty-seven Chapters worth ^.^" Once this fic is done of course. What? You thought that was it? *tsk tsk* I would never end a story like this like that! That's just cruel and mean! ^.^" Thanks for the wonderful review!
tempest: Um...yes, I have it planned out; no, it doesn't mean it'll be quicker ^.^" Well, maybe it will be! I dunno. I'm glad you reviewed! It has been a while! And I know...I'm in denial about the death as well *sniffles* It's not true I tell you!
Author's Notes: Just a quick note ^.^" Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter and will enjoy this one! ^.^"
DEDICATED TO: everblue3. For the best dang review I've gotten in a while! ^.^
Disclaimer: I own no one! ^.^"
(Years Past)
"You're awful, Mr. Potter!" exclaimed a girl as she giggled on the other side of a counter, opposite of an elder James Potter, whose lips quirked into a bit of a smile.
"I'm not," he said, leaning against the counter with his elbows supporting him, "I'm creative, that's all."
The eleven-year-old brunette smiled brightly at him before leaning forward and whispering, "Dad says you're a trouble-maker," as if it was a grand secret that she shouldn't have told him.
James stood straight, chuckling while adjusting his glasses. "Well, I used to be," he answered before catching an elder woman's gaze, which looked as if it would kill him if he did not relinquish the small girl's attention. "I'll tell you about it later though. Mrs. Dauzart looks like she wants your attention." He pointed over to the old woman, who waved the small girl over.
The girl looked saddened to go but turned around to head over to the other side of the bookstore.
James, feeling guilty about disppointing her, called out, "Oh, Leslie!"
The girl turned around as James came over and slipped some candy into her hand, whispering mischievously, "If Mrs. Dauzart asks, don't tell her you got it from me."
Leslie looked up at him in awe. "You're the best, Mr. Potter!" she exclaimed before running off toward the older woman, who greeted her with a smile.
Smiling lightly at his good deed for the day, James went back behind the counter, picking up a discarded magazine before frowning and tossing it in the trash can.
"She can never say an adult's first name, can she?" asked a familiar voice. James looked out of the corner of his eye and spotted Neil O'Connor leaning against the counter nearest to the door.
"She's just really polite," he answered, idly moving things about on the counter before turning his full attention to Neil with an amused look on his face. "Besides, I'm not much of an adult myself."
This was true, as James was only nineteen--barely considered an adult in some areas. "What are you doing here anyway, Neil?" he asked, curiously.
The tall, muscled construction worker shrugged dispassionately. "Lunch break," he stated before looking over to James, grinning. "No one to talk to."
"Lunch already?" asked James with some surprised as he quickly looked to his watch for confirmation.
How he hated that watch...
He shook his wrist as he realized it said the time was nine minutes after seven.
Neil chuckled. "Didn't notice?"
James gave him a mock dark look. "I've been inside all day. Unlike you, I'm not allowed to see the sun," he said, monotone.
Neil chuckled again. "You have too much energy to work here, if you ask me," he said, gesturing around the bookshop.
James shrugged, nonchalant. "The kids keep me entertained," he said before he noticed the other man's disgruntled look.
Neil didn't exactly have a soft spot for the little midgets.
"Besides," James added, just to point the fact out to Neil yet again, "I like kids."
The bigger, elder man snorted. "Not surprised," he said, not allowing the younger man to get away with that comment unscathed, "you're still one yourself."
James gave him a blank look. "Funny." He leaned back to look into a door that lead to the backroom before shouting, "Jess!"
There was a thump and a bang before a woman's voice shouted in pain, "OW!"
James blinked once before peering into the room, where a small, chestnut-haired woman was sitting on the ground with books scattered all around her and on her as she rubbed her head, swearing. James looked over to the shelf that sat innocently before the fallen woman. He sighed, "When are you going to learn about that shelf?"
The woman, Jess, winced as she rubbed the sore spot on her head. "I think being hit in the head erases it from my memory," she said before standing, ignoring the poor books that had taken the fall with her. She glared at James, possibly blaming him for her unfortunate accident. "What do you want anyway?"
James suppressed a smile. "Letting you know I'm taking off for lunch," he told her, jerking his thumb behind him at the door, where Neil was sticking his head in to see what had happened.
"Yeah, yeah," muttered Jess as she turned to pick up the books, "have fun."
"Thanks," said James before he exited the room, beckoning Neil to following him. "Let's go."
"I don't see why you don't go out with her," said Neil as they exited the bookshop which, outwardly, didn't look too different from any of the bookshops that could be found in Britain. James looked back at it for a second, having to take a moment to remind himself that he wasn't in Britain but in the United States. He shook his head and let Neil walk slightly ahead of him.
"She's too old and not my type," he answered simply, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looked at the ground, remembering a certain person that he hadn't seen in two years.
"What is your type?" asked Neil curiously.
James felt a pang in his chest. "Redheads."
Neil looked over to him before sighing. "Okay...so what is it today? Cafe or apartment?"
James made a face at the latter choice. "My flat makes me sick, looking at it," he said, feeling queazy just thinking about the state of the small place he rented.
"You're too British for your own good," said Neil as he frowned at the British term. The larger man tended to forget at times where James was from until the younger man unconsciously used a phrase that reminded him.
"Yeah, thanks," said James sarcastically as they continued to walk down the sidewalk. The street was emptied, save for the few cars that came by and the pedestrians that included themselves. "And here I though two years was long enough for my accent to go away," he added with the same amount of sarcasm as they paused at a curb.
Neil chuckled lowly. "Yeah, right," he said before they started crossing the street to get to the near-by cafe. "So Cafe then."
The Cafe soon came into view, and Neil put a large hand onto James' smaller shoulder as he laughed goodnaturely and steered him toward the entrance. "Come on, my turn to buy."
"What can I get you?" asked a waitress as soon as they sat down in a booth that was next to the Cafe's window. There was music coming from the jukebox, though James ignored it since it wasn't really of his tastes at the moment, and the people that were in the Cafe were teenagers that were holding several conversations at once, dressed in the most recent style in America, which could only make James shake his head at the whole thing.
"Coffee," answered Neil quickly, though he eyed the waitress for a moment.
"Just iced tea, if you have any," said James, not at all feeling like having the chalk-flavored caffine-charged drink. The waitress nodded and walked off.
Neil leaned back a bit to follow her movements before looking to James and gesturing to the departing waitress. "Stacey's a redhead," he said rather bluntly.
James stared at him for a moment, stumped. Of course Neil wouldn't understand that he couldn't stand the thought of going out with any women. Neil was a man who enjoyed his pleasures and didn't understand why anyone would turn such things down. James decided to just raise his eyebrows curiously and ask, "Red hair and blue eyes? Come on, Neil."
Neil frowned. "Don't like blue?"
"Not really," said James distractedly. He put his face into his hands as a pair of green eyes entered his vision. "Just forget it," he nearly groaned as Neil began to say something else. "I've got a bloody headache."
"I thought I told you not to think that hard," said Neil lightly, chuckling.
James lowered his hands and smirked a bit before looking out the window. "I ignored you," he said, following the line of joking. He then furrowed his brow into a frown. "Hey, Neil?"
"What?"
"What is that?" James placed his finger onto the window, pointing to a brown speck that was perched atop a red car that was parked in front of a clothing shop. The brown fleck ruffled its feathers, its head turned toward the Cafe for a moment before it took off.
"An owl," answered Neil, confirming James' fear. "Why?"
"They...don't normally come out during the day...do they?" asked James, uncertainly. Maybe there was a chance that the bird had been just a regular owl, having nothing to do with the world he had left behind two years ago.
"Don't ask me, Pal," said Neil with a chuckle as he leaned back into his seat.
James' face paled slightly before he stood. "I'll be right back," he said, quickly backing away from the booth, gesturing behind him toward the vague direction of the restroom. "I've--I've got to go to the loo."
As he turned and nearly raced to the restrooms, he heard Neil shout out, "Bathroom, James! Bathroom!"
James closed the door quickly and leaned against it as if he were shutting out his memories, though they were continuing to plague him. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose, the earlier headache returning with a vengeance.
"Ruddy bird," he muttered to himself as he stood there, pushing everything away. "Bloody paranoia. He can't find me here. I know he can't--"
He jumped as he felt someone knock on the door.
"Hey, James?" called Neil with some concern. "You okay in there?"
James replaced his glasses on their perch on his nose, hesitating. "Er...actually, I'm feeling a bit...erm..."
"Sick?" Neil supplied. "You gonna be okay?"
"Don't worry," said James, reassuringly. "You-you should head back to work, shouldn't you?"
There was a pause from the other side. "I guess," was the answer, slow in coming. "You sure you're all right?"
"I'll be fine," said James firmly with some small amount of irritation. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the concern, it was just that James hated lying to Neil and was growing tired of having to reassure him of being all right when he knew that he was certainly not fine.
James listened at the door for a minute before sighing and making his way to the sink, leaning against it as he looked at his reflection. His dark hair was just as shaggy as it had always been, never seeming to want to settle down into a normal position. Grey eyes framed by a pair of glasses that tended to slid to the middle of his nose stared back at him with weariness, sadness, and a small trace of fear.
James blinked a few times before scowling and turning on the water. "Need to stop being an idiot," he muttered to himself, taking off his glasses and setting them on the sink's side before he cupped his hands under the cool water. "Spy an owl after two years, and you get scared."
He splashed his face with water once--twice--before rubbing his face and then peering at his fuzzy reflection, frowing. "What would Si--"
He stopped that question before he could finish it, sighing as he reached over to get a paper towel and dry his face.
Wearily after a day's work of two part-time jobs, James approached the door to his small, rented apartment, only to groan in frustration at the note that had been aggressively stuck under his room number.
"Bloody hell," he swore as he ripped it down from the door, over half of it remaining as it had been jammed tightly between the numbers 2 and 7. "Can't the damned old hag wait until I get paid?"
He scowled for a moment before unlocking his door and stepping in. The place was small, the living room being separated from the kitchenette only by a small island. The living room itself was cluttered with a couch, two chairs and a half-broken coffee table that was using two piles of books as legs. Luckily, no one could see the titles of the books, or they would have notice that some of them were quite odd as they had titles such as The Standard Book of Spells, which was one whole leg consisting of Volumes I through VII, all of them in worn condition.
Near the small hall that lead to the small bedroom sat a very small closet that was stuffed with what remained of James' trunk, which had suffered much during the past two years. A broomstick, covered in dust, was hidden at the top of the closet, supported only by a long-lasting Sticking Charm. It was this closet that James opened and tossed his light jacket into before shutting the door and turning to sit on the couch to watch the small television set that sat on the kitchenette island, facing toward the couch.
Before he could sit down, however, a tapping noise at his window made him look over and then jump back against the wall, his breathing quickening with partial fright and partial surprise.
There, on the window sill, sat the same brown owl that he had seen before.
"B-bloody owl," he stuttered, slowly unsticking himself from the wall and approaching the window. The owl stared at him for a long moment before pecking impatiently at the glass and then hooting indignantly.
This only served to start James' temper.
"Go away!" he said angrily. "Shoo!"
The owl screeched angrily and ruffled its feathers before pecking at the window again.
"Go away!" shouted James with a furious and desperate tone. "Go away and leave me alone, you ruddy HOOTER!"
The owl seemed to finally get the hint, though it glared angrily at the wizard in the small room. Its feathers still ruffled, it screeched once more before taking off, leaving James in his living room feeling shaken and drained.
That owl had definitely not just been an ordinary owl. That owl belonged to a wizard.
A wizard that had been his closest friend.
"I think he has a phobia of birds."
"They fly all over the place, and he's never minded before."
"Maybe it's owls then."
"Does it really matter?"
"He looked scared stiff, Jessica! I seriously was worried about him!"
"It's just a phobia. An irrational fear. Drop it."
"Drop what?" The two people whom James considered to be his friends spun toward him, Neil with surprise clearly showing one his face and Jess with only a curious look as if she seemed to know he had been listening in.
...well, that's how she had looked right before she fell off of the ladder she had been standing on, knocking the shelf with its books down onto her. "Oww! Oh--damn--owwww!" she cried as she sat up and clutched her sore head.
James immediately went to her side while Neil did the same, worry as well as amusement on his face. "Sorry about that. Did mean too--"
"No, no," said Jess, waving him off. "My fault, my fault. Owww..."
"You all right?" asked James as she got herself into a standing position, his hands out toward her as she wabbled uncertainly on her feet for a moment.
"I'll be fine," she insisted with some annoyance as she rubbed her head, shooing his concerned hands away as she headed over to a near-by chair. "Go...shelve books or something. Owww..."
James gave her an uncertain look. "All right..."
He had only just left the room when there was another crash and Jess shouting, "Shit! Damn it! JAMES!"
Neil had raced out of the room as soon as the crash began and was trying to lead the thoughtful-looking man out of the store. James, however, didn't help very much with the escape idea as he planted his feet firmly onto the ground and muttered, "I forgot about that..."
That was when she appeared at the backroom's doorway, absolute murder on her face. Neil noticed this and pushed his friend forward. "Uh, James. Running would be a good idea--"
"JAMES POTTER! GET YOUR SORRY ASS BACK HERE!"
"I think she's getting slightly carried away," said James with a frown as Jess quickly made her way toward the two men, her face red and something trailing behind her.
Neil turned his friend toward him and said in a serious manner, "James, buddy...nothing is more horrible than a woman scorned." James gave him a confused look before he was shoved toward the door, Neil shouting, "Run for the hills, you dumbass!"
That was when James saw the wicked grin on Jess' face as she approached. That crazed look that could only mean one thing.
"Splendid idea!" exclaimed James suddenly with some anxiety as he opened the door and exited the bookshop. "Cheerio!"
"JAMES!" he could hear Jess roar from the inside as he immediately headed to his apartment, the only place to find sanctuary from the elder woman's rage.
"Hey, James? You here?"
"Who's calling?" James stuck his head out of his bedroom to look toward the door. "Ah! Neil!" he said cheerfully as he exited his room and walked into the living room. "Hiding from Jess as well?"
Neil gave a snort of laughter. "Yeah right," he said, tossing himself onto the couch and propping his feet up on the broken coffee table, making James wonder if he would ever notice the books that was supporting it. "Actually, I wanted to know if you wanted to go to the movies."
"Movies?" asked James curiously. "What's showing?"
Neil shrugged. "No idea, but I'm bored as hell. What do you say?"
"I'm not sure," said James, thinking about the other job he had in a few hours. He was already 'taking a day off' from his first job at the bookshop and couldn't really afford to miss out on paid hours. "I guess we could--"
"What was that?" asked Neil, looking around the room curiously.
"What?"
Neil then looked to the window, narrowed his eyes studiously, and stood up from his position on the couch before walking over to the small window and bending over to study the brown bird that was perched there, feathers ruffled. "There's an owl--"
Blinds fell over the window, obscuring the bird from view.
"I swear someone's trying to terrorize me," muttered James as he walked back away from the window without another look.
"With owls?" questioned Neil with a curious look toward his friend.
James looked back toward Neil with a pointed, yet slightly cynical expression. "Do all owls carry letters?" he asked, crossing his arms.
"Eh..."
James sighed and shook his head as a pecking sound came from the window. "Ignore it. It'll go away," he said before going to his kitchenette to find some food. "So when's the movie?"
"I guess at seven," answered Neil, sounding slightly curious about the whole owl thing but not willing to bring it up again. "You okay with that?"
James thought about it before nodding, realizing that it wouldn't really clash with his other job. "All right," he said and turned to the other man, who was just taking his leave. "And Neil? No blind-dates."
Neil, who suddenly took on the expression of having his 'hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar,' chuckled and said, "I swear, you're psychic or something," before opening the door and leaving.
Again, a thoughtful look came onto James' face. "Funny," he said to himself with amusement. "I was horrible in Divination."
"Ahem."
"What?" asked James with some annoyance as he looked up from a magazine to see Jess watching him impatiently.
She snorted none-too lady-like. "Some gentleman," she said sarcastically. "Not even one 'I'm sorry.'"
James sighed. "It was just a prank."
"Uh huh," said Jess blankly, "and it was just me who was the victim, wasn't it?"
"Can't you take a joke?" demanded James, quickly losing his patience with this conversation.
Jess, however, glared at him, apparently not wanting to end the conversation until she got her apology. "You jerk," she said angrily. "Think I'm funny, don't ya?"
"Not in the slightest," was the dry reply as James stood up, gathering his things as it was almost the end of his Saturday double-shift hours.
As he retreated to the door, however, she called, "Oh, just you wait, James Potter! You might dish it out but can you take it?"
"I can," he simply answered, opening the door.
"Bet you can't."
Now that did it. He was tired of her stating things such as that as if she had known him all her life. What did she know anyway? It was just a prank! Just because he played a prank on her didn't mean that she could automatically declare she knew how he was like.
"You'd lose," he responded slowly, stiffly, not moving from his position at the door. "I can take a lot of things. A small prank by you is nothing."
"What an ego!" she exclaimed, and James turned to see her tossing her hands into the air.
"No an ego," he stated coolly. "Just a fact."
Jess rolled her eyes. "Sure. Fine," she said impatiently before jabbing her index finger in his direction, "but I want you to listen, Bub. I will not take another prank like that again. I'd hate to fire you since you're just a kid--"
"I'm nearly nineteen. I'm not a kid--"
She sniffed haughtily at this. "Compared to me, you are. I'm thirty-six. I've been an adult for a while now and you, my little Brit, are just a little boy."
"Thanks for sharing that enlightening information," said James sarcastically before turning away again. "Now if you'd excuse me, I have to be going."
He managed to escape the bookshop before she could say anything more. Continuing down the sidewalk toward his apartment, he felt the anger he had felt ebb away and sighed. He supposed that he should have apologized for the prank chair that he had planted in the backroom, but honestly, it wasn't as if he planned the shelf thing as well. It was just an innocent, friendly prank--
"Hey, Buddy," a man asked on James' right. James looked over to see the suspicious-looking man leaning up against the wall of the building, face hidden by shadow as the sun had already begun to set. "Got the time?"
Brows furrowed at the familiar-sounding accent the man had, James looked cautiously from the man to his recently-fixed watch. "Yeah, it's six fifty--hey!" he shouted as the man took off down the sidewalks. "That's my wallet! Get back here!"
So the chase went, the man in front with James right behind him, never managing to get ahead as the man sped down alleyways and continued to lead the young wizard into the darker, older areas of the small city-like town. Then, after what seemed to be hours, the man stopped, cornered by a dead-end alley. This, however, didn't seem to bother the man at all as James haulted a few feet away, panting with exhaustion of having to chase after him.
The man, facing away from James, fiddled with James' wallet, peering into it before groaning and folding it back up. "Oh, this is pathetic," he said before tossing it back to James over his shoulder. "You can have it back."
James, though he was still panting slightly, gave him a suspicious look as the wallet landed at his feet. "Just who are you?" he demanded.
"I'm wounded," said the man with a hurt tone, not turning to face James. "Don't you recognize me, James? Have you really been around the Muggles that long?"
James immediately pulled out the wand he had concealed in his jacket pocket and aimed it at the man's back, shaking slightly with anxiety and fear of finding out who the man was. "No more jokes!" he shouted firmly. "Turn around where I can see you!"
The man gave a dramatic sigh before looking over his shoulder, his features obscured by the darkness still. "Kept your wand, did you?" he asked before shrugging and turning around with a grin. "I suppose some applause is in order."
James almost didn't hear the sound of the slow, mocking claps coming from the person's hands. He was so surprised at who it was that he dropped his wand.
It just couldn't be.
"Si-Sirius?" he questioned, eyes wide in astonishment.
Sirius Black cocked his head to the side, his now-shorter dark hair shifting along with his movements, and gave a somewhat wicked, yet thoughtful grin. "I love it when people say it like that," he said with some amusement, before looking upward in thought and nodding as if coming to a decision. "Makes it more entertaining--"
James didn't want to stick around for Sirius' musings and used what he had thought to have been Sirius' moment of distraction to make a run for it. He didn't, however, count on the other young man to suddenly appear in front of him with a crack, making him skid to a stop as the other man lazily twirled his wand with a friendly grin that was betrayed by the angered look in his blue eyes.
"I got my Apparation License, James," he said simply as though he was talking about the weather. "I believe that's twenty Galleons you owe me--" James tried his luck again to try to run but was quickly caught by the back of his jacket my Sirius' quick hand. "Hey, just where do you think you're going?"
James struggled to get Sirius to release him and only succeeded by slipping out of his jacket, leaving Sirius frowning at him with the jacket in his now white-knuckled grip.
"You shouldn't be here!" hissed James, not trying to run this time as he realized he was out-matched by Sirius without his wand. "Damn it, he'll find us!"
Sirius knit his brow together in confusion. "Who?"
"Sirius," said James, suddenly becoming desperate, "just go. Go! I left for a reason, and you're only making matter worse by--"
"Now you're just babbling," interrupted Sirius before disappearing and then reappearing beside James with another crack. Grabbing James' arm and tossing him his jacket and wand, Sirius then gave him a serious look and said, "I think this calls for a talk. After all..." A somewhat malicious grin appeared on his face, "...a lot can happen in two years."
"Sit." James was shoved onto the couch by Sirius, who then took a moment to look around the apartment, immediately bending over to study the books that were supporting one side of the coffee table with a frown.
"Sirius," James immediately began to say as Sirius moved away to examine the television set, fiddling with the antenna. "Sirius, listen to me--!"
The other young man spun suddenly spun toward him with such an angered look on his face that James couldn't help but shrink back into the folds of the couch.
"No, you listen, James," said Sirius in a calm yet angered voice. "I've been searching for you for two bloody years, and you better damn well listen to me!" The shout was met with silence as Sirius then combed a hand through his shorter hair, his shaking hand evidence of how angry he was.
"Merlin..." he swore before trailing off and, putting his hand onto the kitchenette's island's counter, looked away. "Went with your crazy idea then? Left us to hide amongst the Muggles? Left me, Moony, and Wormtail to deal with the full moons with no help? Left Lily in tears, babbling about something she tried to tell you--"
"Sirius--" James attempted to say, only to be silenced by the glare Sirius sent him.
"What was if for, James?" he demanded loudly. "Why did you leave?"
There wasn't a reply.
"ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!"
Wincing from the bellow, James then attempted to answer, "I...I can't--I can't, Sirius!"
"Why not?" shouted Sirius, suddenly moving toward James and then away, as if he was resisting doing something painful to the bespectacled young man. "Why--why the hell not?"
"If you hate me this much for leaving," said James loudly, matching Sirius' volume, "you'll hate me more because of my reason!"
Then Sirius froze, a dumbfounded expression taking over the anger. "Hate...hate you?" he questioned as though he didn't understand what the two words meant. "James, I'm mad, I'm angry, I'm confused, I'm frustrated--!" Again, Sirius made several jerky movements as he began to pace the floor for a moment before stopping and giving him a slightly surprised look, looking as though he had just realized what James had said.
"I don't hate you," he said slowly, more calmly. "Why would you ever think I did?"
James winced at the question. "Because...because I wanted you to." He looked away from his old friend's startled face. "I wanted you to hate me...so that I could hate you back, so I could--so he wouldn't--"
"He?" asked Sirius, sounding as though he was echoing something he had heard before. "You mean Voldemort?" When there was no answer, Sirius jerked to the nearest wall, looking as though he would punch it.
However, he managed to rein in his anger just as quickly as he had almost unleased it. "Damn it..." he said softly, almost eerily so. "Didn't we go through this already?" He turned back to his old friend with an almost stunned expression. "James, Voldemort hasn't tried--"
"Only because I didn't give him an answer!" interrupted James loudly.
Again, Sirius' brow knitted itself together in confusion. "An answer? To what?"
James, however, had looked away, had turned away from his friend again to try to hide the answer to his question, wishing he could take back what he had said. He couldn't, though, and the thought of not being able to made him sick.
"James? James." Knowing that he wouldn't be able to run this time, James turned to a suddenly docile and calm Sirius, who looked more saddened than angry. "I'm not mad anymore. I just want to know why you ran and what answer you didn't give Voldemort."
James watched him for a moment, suddenly seeing the weariness in his old friend who had been searching for him for over two years as well as looking after Remus during the full moons. Then, he looked away, not able to stand it anymore. "...you don't hate me," he simply said in a soft voice.
"Of course not," said Sirius as he sat in one of the chairs on the side of the couch. "Voldemort must have said something or done something to get you all scared enough to run. I just want to know what it was."
James sighed, hanging his head, feeling as though this was the moment before his 'execution.' "Do you promise...not to hate me? No matter what I tell you?"
"I promise," said Sirius without a hesitation, making James look up to him again. "I swear, James. On our friendship, I swear I won't."
Seeing the firm and determined look on his face was almost encouraging, which was the reason the words came out without getting stuck in his throat as they tended to do when he spoke about it aloud to himself.
"That day...the day I left...that afternoon after you woke me up...I found a note that told me to meet you at the edge of the Forbidden Forest," he began, his voice hoarse and his mouth dry but as they didn't hinder his speech, he continued, "I went but found out that it was a trick. Death--Death Eaters cornered me. They bound me and blindfolded me and lead me into the Forest before Portkeying us to Voldemort."
Sirius, having noticed how his friend's voice was beginning to shake, attempted to interrupt the tale, "James--"
"Don't interrupt," said James quickly, looking away again. "I'm giving you your answer and it's easier to get over it and done with."
When Sirius didn't say anything, he sighed and rubbed his forehead, continuing, "As soon as we got there, they removed the bindings and blindfold and gave me back my wand that they took when they had cornered me. Then...Voldemort came.
"He came and no matter how hard I tried to stop him, to make myself not listen...he told me things. Secrets kept in the dark because they were just as dark. I didn't want to believe it--any of it--until I spoke with Dumbledore." That was when he voice began to break as he remembered that day two years ago, "Dumbledore...he knew...he somehow knew the secrets Voldemort had revealed. He made the fear real. I couldn't stay. Voldmort threatened to take your lives if I..." He choked slightly as he remembered the Dark Lord's words.
'Are you willing to risk your friends' lives? That quiet werewolf friend of yours? Or that clumsy, yet caring boy? Perhaps the rambuncious one, who has a witty remark for every-other response? Maybe even that lovely Mudblood you've recently become attached to? Deny me and only you are to blame if they come to an...untimely end.'
"I couldn't though!" shouted James, shaking his head quickly to dispell the memory. "I couldn't join him!" He paused for a moment, taking a few breaths before continuing, "...but I couldn't let you all be hurt because of that. So I left without giving an answer. He's still waiting for one, but I..."
He looked up, pleading with his friend, who watched him with grim fascination. "...please, Sirius, I know I was selfish; I know I still managed to hurt you all--"
"Stop it, James," said Sirius with a sigh, closing his eyes, not willing to see James in such a state. "You weren't selfish. It would have been better to see us hurt by you than killed by him, right?"
James nodded sadly. "That's pretty much it," he agreed before sighing and burying his face in his hands. "I'm such a cowardly bastard..."
"Literally or figuratively?" asked Sirius in a poor attempt to lighten the atmosphere.
"Both," muttered James sourly.
"Er...James...you do have a father--"
"Let me make this plain," said James, lifting his head from his hands and looking Sirius in the eye, "my name's not supposed to be 'Potter.'"
Sirius looked at him with confusion. "You were adopted?"
James laughed hollowly. If only that had been the case! "My mum was my mother, but my dad isn't my father."
Sirius then frowned "Where are you going with this?" he asked, not understanding his friend at all.
Again, the other young man looked away, ashamed. "Have you ever head of one person being an Heir to two things?" he asked and could almost hear Sirius' silent negative. "Neither have I until that afternoon." He looked up and said with an almost crazed grin on his face, "Guess what I am, Sirius. Just take a wild guess."
Realization made Sirius' face go slack, his jaw lowering slightly in surprise. "James..."
The grin that had been on James' face melted away as he quickly began to feel like crying.
Sirius knew.
"That was why Voldemort didn't kill me off," he explained, his voice bitter, cracking with the tears he had forbidden to fall. "Why kill off the boy who, though he was the Heir of Gryffindor, was also his own Heir? That's why he tried to get me to join. That's why I ran."
Again, he looked away, the shame overcoming his ability to keep his eyes on his friend. "I don't blame you if you hate me now."
There was a short pause.
"I swore I wouldn't, didn't I?" demanded Sirius, sounding almost insulted. James turned to him in surprise, noticing how his friend had his arms crossed in his indignant stance. "James, you're not the only person with a horrible father. Hell, my mum's just as awful with my dad right behind her!"
James had to assume he did the goldfish impression fairly well at this information. "I thought--"
Sirius snorted, looking to the side, at the upper part of the wall on his right. "Yeah, I did kind of lie to you about them. They work for the Ministry--that's true--but they hate me." The bitterness that had crept into his voice then dripped into his words as he said, "'The only Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, not Slytherin.' 'The only Black not to believe Purest is best.'"
He glanced at James out of the corner of his eyes. "They've already pretty much disowned me. Burned me off the family tree."
James felt stunned. "I...didn't know..."
Sirius then turned back to James with a sympathetic look in his blue gaze. "It's okay, James. It doesn't matter. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I don't care who the hell's blood you have in you. You're still you, and if you're not a Potter, then I don't know who is."
A slight smile appeared on James' face. "Seriously?"
"Yeah..." said Sirius slowly, as though he was talking with a mentally-challenge person. "It's my name, after all."
James chuckled. "Still running that joke, I see."
"Expected any less?"
"I suppose not."
"But I was serious, James." Sirius looked at him with a pointed look, looking just as serious as he claimed to be. "I'm a good example of an exception. So are you."
James rose an eyebrow. "I suppose we're more alike than we thought," he said wryly, almost deadpanned.
"Oh, ew..." said Sirius with a disgusted look on his face, which made James chuckle a bit. "I should hope not."
Again there was a long pause before Sirius sighed and stood up. "Well, I'd better tell Remus and Peter the good news--" he began.
"I'm not going back, Sirius," interrupted James quietly, knowing the reaction.
Sirius' temper was back with a vengence. "Why not?" he demanded.
James immediately jumped to his usual answer, "Because--because Voldemort will find me!"
Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh, come off it, James. We can take care of ourselv--" He stopped. "Wait a minute..." He looked to James, realization again coming onto his expression. "...you don't want to tell them why you ran, do you?"
James looked to his hands, caught. "I wouldn't have told you if you you hadn't dragged it out of me," he said, slightly angry that he had been uncovered.
"A good thing I did!" retorted Sirius before pausing and then saying calmly, "Look, I know I'm a hypocrit--"
"You bloody well are!" shouted James.
"--but," continued Sirius, ignoring his friend's outburst, "I'm telling you that the others won't CARE!"
"And Lily?" demanded James suddenly, without thinking. "What about Lily?"
Exasperated, Sirius tossed his hands in the air with a small sigh. "What about her, James--" He stopped again. "Oh, I see...'absense makes the heart grow fonder,' right?"
James sprung from his seat, face red. "Stop joking around!"
"Who's joking?" queried Sirius seriously. "Well, James?" When he didn't get an answer, the young man walked over to his friend and pointed to his eyes, nearly whispering, "Look me in the eye and tell me--lie to me--that you didn't miss her."
James paused only for second, mistakingly looking his friend in the eye and then turning away just as quickly, giving him all the answers he needed. "Bloody hell! Not this again!"
"Admit it!" shouted Sirius as James distanced himself from his friend before he could cause him serious harm. "Admit it!"
"Look," said James seriously, "I have more to worry about than that!"
"You brought her up!" exclaimed Sirius, tossing his hands into the hair in slight exasperation.
"I KNOW I DID!" James exploded before cursing to himself as Sirius gained a smug look. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
Sirius crossed his arms and shrugged, nonchalant. "What can I say? One of the few reasons I wasn't a Slytherin was because I was too hyper."
James shook his head. "Listen. Lily and I are--or were--strictly friends. For all I know, she hates me even more than any of you could!"
"...you really are an idiot, aren't you?"
That gained Sirius a glare. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Never mind," said Sirius, waving it off before narrowing his eyes at his friend. "Look, James, we've all missed you. We want you to come back--"
"I can't." James shook his head furiously, eyes closed. "I can't, Sirius!"
"Stop being a bloody coward, James!" shouted Sirius with frustration. "You've had two years to run, now you need to go back to where you belong!"
"Belong?" echoed James in disbelief. "Where do I belong, Sirius? Certainly not on Dumbledore's side and never on Voldemort's--"
Sirius ignored him and continued, deadly serious, "The war's been brewing, James. Voldemort's attacks have been taking place all over Britain. We need help! The Ministry is in chaos. The Aurors have lost almost all sense of order. Death Eater have been attacking Muggles left and right--"
This information nearly staggered James. "...I can't..."
"You can!" insisted Sirius loudly. "I understand you're scared, James, but you should be more afraid because the war has started and we're all fighting."
"But..." James began to object before trailing off, suddenly leaning against the wall, looking as though it was the only thing that was keeping him standing. "Who can I trust, Sirius? Dumbledore...he lied to me...all those years--"
"Have you stopped trusting your friends?" The question was so soft-spoken that James had to look up and over to his friend again.
"If you have to join someone," said Sirius, looking just as firm and determined as he had looked before, "join us. Remus is what people would consider a dark creature, but he'd never side with Voldemort. I myself am a traitor to my family, which is full of Voldemort supporters--"
"You don't understand," interrupted James, shaking his head. "Voldemort said if I opposed him, he'd go after you."
Sirius smirked. "That's why we've joined an Order."
James gave him a startled look. "What?"
Sirius had somehow managed to discreetly pull out his wand and was now holding it patiently in his hand. "Think on it, James," he said seriously. "All of Britain's suffering under Voldemort's campaign. We can't afford to lose to him."
With that and a small crack, he was gone.
Not a moment afterward, James slowly sank to the ground, feeling suddenly weak, almost broken. Then a tear fell and with its fall, come the memories of what he had tried to lock away. His past at Hogwarts with his friends. Sirius, Remus, Peter...Lily...he had left them all...
...and yet Sirius claimed that none of them hated him. Claimed that they all wanted him to come back. Was that true? Or was that just Sirius' wish?
How could he go back? How, with Voldemort breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a mistake? Waiting for him to be weak...weak like he was right then?
Who could he trust?
'Have you stop trusting your friends?'
'If you have to join someone, join us.'
'I understand you're scared, James, but you should be more afraid because the war has started and we're all fighting.'
'You've had two years to run, now you need to go back to where you belong'
It's okay, James. It doesn't matter. That's what I've been trying to tell you. I don't care who the hell's blood you have in you. You're still you, and if you're not a Potter, then I don't know who is."
For two years, James had been dreading being found and having to explain himself to his friends. He had been afraid that they wouldn't understand, that they would toss him away...
...was it worse to be afraid now that one of them had understood and still wanted him to stay?
'We'll stick together through thick or thin, right?'
Would they?
Author's Notes: Okay, so I lied last chapter. Sirius was in this chapter ^.^" Wow...this chapter went a lot better than how I thought it would go. And look! It's in line with the canon! Go me! ^.^ Anyway...now it's time for the responses. ^.^"
lena-jade: Couldn't wait to see what happened? Well, more laughs, but more drama too. ^.^" I rock, don't I? *attempts to have an ego* ^.^" *watches ego deflate* Erm...*pokes* Yeah...^.^" Thanks for reviewing!
Polaris: Thanks for the review, but I really do think that James would have been near tears in chapter one. Wouldn't you if people were pressuring you to admit that your mother was gone and you were denying it? ^.^" Thanks for the review anyway.
little-lost one: Updated ^.^" Hope you enjoyed the read!
Rosanna: Oh, yeah, I remember emailing you about the itallics and bold. How's that been going? But still...hours reading? Dang! You didn't have to go and do that! It isn't THAT good! *blushes* Thanks for the lovely review ^.^"
Them Girl: Yes, poor James. And it's getting even better. ^.^" Thanks for reviewing!
everblue3: *blushes* Oh, wow...excellence of writing, plot, and character development *continues to become read* I think you're going a bit over-board there. I'm glad you appreciated the humor ^.^" I have to say that I didn't think anyone would think it was funny. ^.^" I know what you mean about the idea of James being the son of Voldemort, but you have to admit it is very interesting when though about. ^.^" I dunno if I wrote it 'beautifully' but I did try hard at that part. *blushes again* Well, I have to say that this was a review that gave me my up for the day ^.^" Thank you for the wonderful review and for telling me why you think it is so wonderful. I really do appreciate it when people tell me why they say they love it rather than just saying they love it. Thanks so much!
Reluxi: Yeah, about that author stuff...I don't think I'll be able to take it out until I'm finished with this fic. Lol. Oh, well. Yes, yes, Star Wars. You can tell I'm a lover of it, can't you? Surprising? Was it really? *puzzled look* I don't know how I managed that. *shrugs* Oh, well. Lol, I know what you mean about waiting for Book VI. Hopefully I'll have my sequal out and almost done by then, but I don't it at the rate I'm going...*sighs* Evil? Who's evil? Me? *innocent look* It was the Moogle! (Moogle: Kupo, who me, kupo?) Yes, you. Now go away *kicks Moogle away* Ah, yes. The Pensieve scene. I have to say that I still believe that James was a jerk right then, but ALL the time. You wouldn't believe how many debates there have been at Fictionalley.org about that *rolls eyes* Yes! I waited three days! *cries* But I have to say that it is now my second favorite book (the first being PoA, who didn't see that coming?) even though...he...*is in denial* He isn't dead, I tell you! He isn't! And I'll prove it in my sequal *shakes angry fist* Lol. I have to say that I kind of agree about the Pensieve scene. I wasn't at all surprised but everyone said that they were! I mean, I even expected that James and Snape would have gone at it! And I usually don't anticipate these kind of things! Oh, don't worry about rambling. I do it all of the time *innocent look* ^.^" Thanks for reviewing! You know I love it when you do! ^.~!
morrigan: Oh, I hope I won't make you hate this fic just because of what I do to James! *blushes* Oh, stop buttering me up. I'm not that great. And of course there's gonna be a sequal. ^.^" Thirty-seven Chapters worth ^.^" Once this fic is done of course. What? You thought that was it? *tsk tsk* I would never end a story like this like that! That's just cruel and mean! ^.^" Thanks for the wonderful review!
tempest: Um...yes, I have it planned out; no, it doesn't mean it'll be quicker ^.^" Well, maybe it will be! I dunno. I'm glad you reviewed! It has been a while! And I know...I'm in denial about the death as well *sniffles* It's not true I tell you!