(Note from the author: These are not my characters, my world, or my
situations. They all belong to J. K. Rowling, and are protected by
copyrights.)
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)
(Note from the author: This is a long one. But I have been waiting to write this chapter for some time now, and we all know where it goes from here. From here, we know the story, and I will try my best to write it. Also, let's hear it for the readers! We reached the 900th reply mark! Thank you so much for everyone that has read, reviewed, and fallen in love with these characters as much as I have. Without the readers, this story would just be a few words printed, and they would have no life. Thank you everyone so much.)
"You will meet with the Headmaster tomorrow morning," Moody said, showing James and Lily to their room. It was the same one in which James had occupied during their training. It seemed as if nothing had changed, and after all of their hard work, they were left in the same place as they had begun. Nowhere.
The house had been found in pieces. The last bit of hope that they had held onto had fallen that night with the intrusion. But at least Lily had her child. At least Harry was alive.
Moody gave James one more glaring look, before slamming the door and hobbling down the corridor. It was well into the second hour of the morning, and the sky was as dark as ever. James sat on the bed, shaken from the night's events. They had gotten an urgent owl from Sirius, saying that he was at Remus's house and with Harry. The three of them had been trying to get a hold of Lily and him for a day, and didn't know exactly where they had gone.
James and Lily had gone back home, as promised. And had found it in ruins. They had spent a good amount of the past day trying to get help, but so far away from Headquarters and their friends, they had no where to turn to. Finally Sirius's owl had come and they had written him back. Sirius had come on his motorbike, and the three of them had entered the cabin right at the same time as Moody was dusting himself off from the soot in the fireplace.
They were safe, but their house had been attacked by two Death Eaters. And what was he supposed to think by that? That it was all his fault? That he couldn't go out for once with his wife to enjoy life without Death Eaters attacking? That it was somehow his doings?
No, it wasn't fair.
"Dadda," Harry said, clapping his hands together, and his bright eyes smiling up at his father. He was sitting on Lily's lap, bouncing on her lap. Lily was still in her good cloak from the outing that they had had. She was looking her baby over for any injuries, even two hours after their arrival at the cabin.
"It wasn't our fault if we wanted to go out for one night," James said, standing up, "It wasn't our fault to try to have a life."
"We don't have a life," Lily said, still looking at her son. She had that same look on her face that she had had the night of her mother and father's death.
"We don't have a life to live, James," she repeated, looking up at him with glassy eyes, "That house . . . I thought we may grow old together in it. It was burnt to the ground. Wherever we go, they know where we are. We can fight them, but in the long run we're still running away from them. We can't live like that! We aren't living!"
"I'm going to get a job, Lily," James said, kneeling down to her, "And I'll go to work for Moody at the Ministry, just like Sirius. And I'll . . . I'll buy you a new house, and we'll . . . .The war's almost over, Lily . . ."
"Why can't you just leave?" she asked quietly, "I'm ready to go. Why are you still holding on?"
James's face fell, and then hardened. He took Lily's hand in his, and then looked to his son.
"Don't you ever wonder what your parents would have thought of your actions?" he asked her, "And how they died in vain?"
"I know that my father would have wanted me to be happy," she said, "That was the most important thing to him. That I was who I wanted to be, and that I was happy with myself. But James, I'm not happy . . ."
"My father wanted me to be proud," James said, interrupting his wife, and now staring into her green eyes, "My father wanted to be proud himself. He wanted me to join the Order. He wanted me to fight. And I have to."
"Your father is dead," Lily said, "How many times do people have to say this to you for you to get it through your thick skull? Your father is dead because of his pride. Frank and Alice are in hiding . . ."
"Frank's a coward," James said.
Lily stared at her husband for a long time, before breaking away from him, and standing to walk to the door. She opened the door, and then turned back to look at him.
"James, I love you," she said, "But sometimes I swear you think you're still at Hogwarts. This isn't a game, James. We're adults now. He wants to kill us."
James didn't answer, and Lily sighed.
"It's time to go, James," she added, and then stepped out into the hall.
"And so I say to him, 'Of course I wanted the duck!'"
Everyone in the living room laughed together as Sturgis finished his punchline. The Order members had all gathered together for a good reason this night at Moody's house: To protect the Potters and their child. Lily and Harry now sat with them, Lily curled up on the couch. Dorcas, the Prewetts, Sturgis, and Emmeline surrounded her, all drinking either a bottle of butterbeer or tea. It was if nothing had happened that night, yet everyone knew it had. Moody had gone out for the night to check up on something or other, and he had not returned yet.
Gideon and Fabian, their matching brown hair now grown to their shoulders, sat next to each other, talking to Dorcas. They were speaking of some sort of bargain Dorcas had found in a small wizarding shop, and Gideon seemed very interested in the prices of new brooms.
They were both largely built men, those twins. They looked almost exactly identical, if it hadn't been for the fact that Gideon sported blue eyes and Fabian brown. That's the way that Lily had told them apart. Harry had fallen asleep in her lap. He looked so perfect. So peaceful and calm and innocent.
"Dear," Emmeline said, sitting next to Lily, "I know you're worried. But you should calm down. Go get some rest."
"I can't," Lily said, giving out a sigh, "I can't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep for a while now."
Emmeline looked at Dorcas, and then at the Prewetts. Finally, Gideon stood to enter the kitchen.
"Maybe another round of butterbeer?"
Everyone agreed with murmurs of "of course" or "sure," and then the room was muted again. Dorcas, her dark expression gazing over to the two girls, seated across from her. Her and Lily had never gotten to know each other as great friends. Dorcas was the sort of woman that would have enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts more than Quidditch or Charms. She lived for the Order, had never had a family, and seemed to be quiet and distant from the world. Her black almond shaped eyes now stood out from her pale skin and raven colored hair. She was so different from Lily, with her red locks and green pupils.
But something was shared between them at that moment. Something neither of them could explain.
"Vance," Dorcas said in her lower voice, and Emmeline looked to her.
"Yeah?"
"How about you go help Gideon in the kitchen," Dorcas asked. It was more of a command than a question. Emmeline, getting the message, retreated through the door. Sturgis and Fabian followed her in and out of the room. Lily looked longingly after them, but didn't move.
Dorcas then pulled back her hair, setting it behind her ears, and edged closer to her. Lily looked at her, unsure. She didn't know this woman. She wasn't like Emmeline or Alice or herself. She was unknown to most of them.
"Mrs. Potter, do you know why I joined the Order?" she asked. Lily shook her head, and Dorcas folded her hands on her lap.
"My husband was killed. Along with my daughter and son," she said darkly. Lily felt her heart drop. But Dorcas didn't look at her, but just continued with her story.
"His name was Matthew. We met at the train station in my seventh year. I was going to Hogwarts, and he was a luggage boy for one of the Muggle lines. It turned out he was a Muggle himself. We fell in love, and married in our twentieth year. I went to live as a Muggle, yet I still kept my job at the Ministry. The next Christmas, Elizabeth was given to us, and then her younger brother the following year. His name was William. William Meadows. I kept my husband's name, even after that night."
Dorcas's eyes grew darker, and they narrowed as she scanned the floor rug.
"That night, we were in our beds, when they came. It was a night of one of the first Muggle riots. It was that night that Elizabeth was screaming from her bed, and William ran into our room, bawling. I grabbed him, and Matthew went for my little girl. William and I made it out before the Death Eaters attacked our house, but Matthew and Elizabeth . . ." she paused, and then shut her eyes, "I saw from where we hid across the street, two cloaked men dragging Matthew away by his hair and . . . they killed him right there.
"William cried, and they heard him. They came for us, and all I could do was run. All I could do was think about my son and how I had to save him. All I could do was pray for them to stumble or for us to be able to fly away somehow. I had not wanted this life for my family. For my children," Dorcas paused again, and then looked at Lily, jaw set, "But they caught us. And they took William from my arms, and held a wand to my throat. I fought back. I killed them all. But William had been taken away. I never saw either of my children again. I don't know what happened to them, and I hope that I never know. Do you know that feeling, Lily? That desperation in which you would give your own life for your child if it would only save them from that fate? I live with that every day, wondering if somehow William ran away from them, with his sister . . . and they're out there somewhere . . . But as the years pass, I lose hope."
"I'm sorry," was all Lily could say, and Dorcas didn't seem to even hear her.
"Hope is the only thing we have left, Lily," Dorcas said, "That hope to know that somehow that sun will rise again, no matter what else happens. And I still have that hope. I have it in your son. And by watching you, and your husband with him. Don't let me lose my hope."
"So," Lily said, hardly able to speak, "What do you think we should do?"
Dorcas hesitated for a moment, and then looked back to the carpet, "Whatever you need to do to protect your son."
Lily waited for more, but none came. So the two women sat, nodding, understanding the other's story. There was nothing more to do but hope. Lily knew that. And Lily knew what she had to do.
BAM!
The two of them started, and Lily gasped. Her head shot toward the front door, and her eyes widened.
BAM!
The door was shaking. Something was outside.
"What is that?" she whispered, and Dorcas shrugged.
"I don't . . ."
BAM!
"POTTER!" a howling voice came from the front step.
Lily felt her breath become sharp as she recognized the voice. It was a voice from long ago. One that came to her and her husband in the woods, and then in a brokendown house, and then again in a cold dark room. The voice that haunted her dreams, and inspired her nightmares.
"It's him," Lily croaked, "They know . . ."
She reached for her wand. Dorcas looked to the girl's hand, and then suddenly grabbed it.
"No," she said, "No, you're not going to fight."
BAM!
"What?" Lily cried, and Dorcas heaved her to her feet.
"Go to the fireplace," she said, hurried now.
BAM!
A piece of the door cracked off and went skidding across the hallway. A green light shone through the hole that the assailant had made. Dumbledore had guarded the Headquarter's entrance with spells that could not be easily opened, but this other person on the front step was powerful. He would eventually make it in. And when he did . . .
"Now listen to me," Dorcas said, shoving Lily and Harry toward the hearth and grabbing a handful of Floo Powder, "Go to Remus Lupin's. Your two friends are there. Bring them back here with as many Ministry officials you can find. Send an owl to Dumbledore. You have to go . . ."
"NO! JAMES!" Lily screamed, now hysterical.
"We're here! We'll give our lives before letting him touch them," Dorcas assured her, "Just go. Just go . . ."
Her voice was so calm, and there was not even the slightest trace of fear in her tone. And for that, Lily trusted her. Lily trusted that this woman that she barely knew would help her family.
And so she went.
"Remus Lupin," Lily said, dropping the Floo Powder, and then disappearing in the flames.
Dorcas was alone in the kitchen as she spun around, and readied her wand.
BAM!
The door was almost ready to splinter apart.
BAM!
"Come on," Dorcas murmured to herself, "Come on, you . . ."
BAM!
"Come on . . ." her dark eyes narrowed again, and her body tensed, as if waiting to leap onto her prey.
BAM!
The door was kicked in, and there he stood. All donned in black and red, and green sparks shooting from his wand. His face could not be seen behind the shadows of his hood, but a smile could. A smile of a demented and powerful man.
"Meadows," he sneered, raising his wand, "What a lovely surprise."
Remus sat on his bed, watching Sirius making himself something to drink. He didn't know what it was, and he wasn't about to ask. Sirius hadn't gone home. An owl from Dumbledore told him not to. That would be the next place the Death Eaters would check, due to the fact that it was Sirius that took Harry away.
"So, would you like anything while I'm up?" Sirius asked his friend, and Remus shook his head. He wasn't feeling very well.
And there was something on his mind.
Sirius came back to the main room, and took a seat on the chair that had been pulled apart by Remus. Sirius looked around for a moment, remembering the destruction of this place.
"It's been hard since you guys stopped coming," Remus said quietly.
"As I can see," Sirius agreed, and then took a drink of his beverage.
Remus was still hurt by the words of James Potter. He hadn't seen his old friend in a good five months, and now that he had . . . he never wanted to see him again. He didn't care if James fell off the face of the earth . . . it wouldn't even bother him.
"Getting late, isn't it?" Sirius yawned, and then sprawled out in his chair, "Wonder when I'll be able to go home."
"You're welcome here as long as you like," Remus said, his hospitable instincts kicking in.
Sirius gave him an odd look, and then closed his eyes.
"Sirius?"
He looked to Remus, who was still upright in his bed, "Yeah?"
"Why here? Why is this the safest place you could think of?" he asked, and Sirius shrugged.
"Well, I just remember when we were boys," he said, "And whenever we needed to hide, you'd cover for us. That's just the way it was. And you always did a good job of it . . ."
Remus nodded, and a slight smile twisted onto his face, "Right."
Sirius exchanged the grin, and then closed his eyes again.
Remus lay down, feeling somewhat comforted. At least one person still trusted him, still saw him as a friend . . .
"Just wait," the wolf laughed, settling down next to Remus, "Just wait, Remus. They'll all turn against you."
"Shut up," Remus whispered.
"James already has. Don't you remember the way he looked at you?"
"Shut up."
"It draws nearer, Remus. It draws nearer."
"It . . ."
"It draws nearer. It draws nearer."
Remus closed his eyes, and the wolf leaned in to his ear. Then, putting a paw to Remus's own mouth, it said again, "It draws nearer."
"What did you say?"
Remus's eyes shot open, and the wolf retreated to a corner of the room, sniggering. Remus sat up to look at Sirius, who looked very pale.
"What? Nothing."
Sirius stared wide-eyed at him, gawking. As if Remus was some sort of exhibit at a zoo. One that could easily kill him.
"It draws nearer," Sirius said, "That's what you said. That's what you just said."
"I didn't . . ."
"What draws nearer, Remus?" he said, almost accusing. Remus was confused.
"I . . . I don't . . ."
"What draws nearer?"
"I don't know," Remus said truthfully, even though he had a pretty good idea of what it was that would. That day that he had thought of so many times in his mind when the world would break apart. But he didn't say anything. He just looked back to Sirius, frozen stiff from his friend's inquisitory stare.
Sirius couldn't move. It had been from his dream. The figure, illuminated by the moon, saying "It draws nearer . . ."
And marking the door with a green X.
He had to get out of here. He had to run. He had to go get someone and tell them what he knew. He had to escape this place. The werewolf was going to kill him. He was going to flat out murder him and there would be no one to hear him while he did it.
"I have to . . ."
With a blast of smoke, the fireplace shot alive, and a body came flying out of the soot and dust. It fell on the floor, and coughed. Something was in the person's arm, screaming and crying.
"Lily?" Remus addressed it, and Lily stood, her eyes bloodshot and Harry in her arms.
"THEY CAME! THEY KNOW WHERE THE HEADQUARTERS ARE! HE'S THERE! HE . . ."
"Who's there, Lily?" Sirius started, setting his drink down. Lily, in a swarm of tears and rage, ran to him and embraced him.
"We have to go! James . . . he . . ."
"Who's there, Lily? Who came?"
Lily buried her face into Sirius's chest, and then finally screamed, "Voldemort!"
Both of the men froze, and then Sirius grabbed Harry and handed him to Remus.
"You stay here," he said, "Watch Harry. Do not let anything happen to him, or by God, I'll come back and kill you myself."
"I . . ." Remus started, but they were already grabbing for the Floo Powder.
"Stay here," Lily said, unaware of the hatred between the two men, "Please, we need you to contact Dumbledore and the others."
"I have to go with you . . ."
"STAY HERE, LUPIN!" Sirius commanded, and then they were gone.
"FOR ENGLAND!"
A blast of silent green light as Emmeline turned around to shut the kitchen cupboard. She screamed, and Gideon and Fabian grabbed her and pulled her down as the green light shot through the door.
Something dropped outside, and Emmeline screamed again. It had been Dorcas's voice shouting.
They knew what had happened.
"What's going on?" Sturgis demanded.
"Someone's here," Emmeline said, her hands shaking, "Someone found us."
"All right," Fabian said, pushing his hair out of his face, "We're here for a reason, right? To protect the boy. And that's what we're going to do. Even if we die in the process. Does everyone understand?"
They nodded, and Fabian squeezed Emmeline's shoulder, "Good. Now, James is upstairs. He thinks Harry is up there as well. We can't let them get to the second floor. Do whatever you have to do. This is our duty. This is our war."
And with that, Fabian gave out a battle-like cry, and shot out of the kitchen and into the living room. The others followed him, and they all stopped suddenly at the sight of Dorcas's body, glowing with green.
"Dorcas!" Emmeline gasped.
All of the candles had been burnt out, and now only the streetlights from outside illuminated the darkened room. Yet they could make out the shape of a cloaked man, almost floating up the stairs. Up towards Harry Potter.
"VOLDEMORT!" Fabian shouted, and Voldemort turned around to face the stupid boy.
"Fabian Prewett," he hissed, and raised his wand, "Yes, I know who you are. I know who all of you are. You'd be best to run before they get here. They're on their way."
"Tom Riddle, you are under arrest . . ."
Voldemort began laughing, somewhat amused at their pitiful attempts to scare him.
"Now isn't that a name I haven't heard in a while," he chortled, and then pointed his wand to the door, "They like to call me by a different name."
And then, they came. Thirty Death Eaters, all donned in their uniforms, and all ready to kill. Their wands were pointed towards the small group of Order members, and Fabian didn't budge. His small army stayed behind him as they prepared themselves to fight to the death.
"Move aside," a low Russian voice came, and the sea of white masks parted. Out from the depths of them came an uncovered face. One that they all recognized.
Antonin Dolohov had returned, and his scruffy face sneered at the proud soldiers.
"Hello, Prewett," he said with his thick accent, and then his eyes shifted to Dorcas's dead body, and he laughed.
Emmeline glared as he took happiness from the sight of Dorcas, and she started forward. Sturgis pulled her back, and Dolohov laughed again.
"Oh, little children," he said, "That is what they give us to fight. Little children."
Fabian looked back to the staircase, and his mouth dropped.
"No," he hissed to Gideon, "He's gone. He's upstairs."
Emmeline leaped onto the marble staircase, followed by Sturgis. But it was too late. Dolohov raised his wand, and blasted a red light to the stairs. They crumbled, and with a large crack, fell to the ground in a heap. Emmeline screamed, and jumped out of the way of the falling marble. When she looked back up at where the stairs had been, only a large pile of rubble lay there, the dust flying. The second floor was too high up for them to reach.
"You are mine," Dolohov laughed, "You are all mine."
James lay in his bed, staring at the top of the ceiling. Maybe there was some truth in what Lily had said to him. Maybe he did think too much of himself and his image. But really . . . he knew it wasn't Hogwarts. He knew he was grown up. He knew . . .
"JAMES POTTER!"
James jumped up, out of his bed. Someone was coming from the corridor outside. Something was wrong.
"GIVE ME THE BOY, POTTER!"
James fumbled around in the dark for his glasses and wand. He found them, and then started towards the door, wand out. Where was Lily? Where was Harry?
BAM!
The door fell, and James was faced with green smoke. Out of the smoke came the man he had not seen for years. The man smiled at him, evilly, and laughed.
"We meet again, for the last time," he said, "Finally I find you here. Out of all places. Right where you began."
"Voldemort," James hissed, and Voldemort laughed again. The laugh was icy and cold, and it pierced right through James's body.
"Where's the boy, Potter," Voldemort snarled.
"He's not with me," James said.
"Don't lie, Potter. I know where you are every minute of the day. I know who you're with wherever you go. Now where is the boy."
"He's not here," James said again.
Voldemort glared at him, as if studying him, and then realized he was telling him the truth. He shot a red light through the wall, and a lamp fell on the floor and shattered.
"DAMN!"
The Death Eaters were guarding the pile of marble, and encircling the four Order members. They had all come here together years ago, when they had been recruited by the Headmaster himself. The pride that they had felt at that time could have been enough to keep them all alive. But now the only thing that resided in their hearts was hate. Complete hate for these creatures daring to come into their house and kill them.
"Let us see here," Dolohov said, stroking his chin, "I say that the large arrogant ones can go first. Don't you think?"
A Death Eater to his right nodded, and laughed.
Fabian lunged forward, "CRUCIO!"
Dolohov ducked the spell, and a Death Eater behind him fell to the ground, screaming. Dolohov, with a smirk on his face, raised his wand to Fabian.
"Go," Fabian muttered to Sturgis and Emmeline, "Get up the rubble. Get to the second floor. We have to save James. Get up there."
"But . . ."
"Go!" Fabian said, giving a determined look to Emmeline, "We'll hold them off."
"You'll die . . . you can't take them all on by yourself!"
"So we will die," Gideon said, as determined as his brother.
And with that, Emmeline and Sturgis ran from behind the twins, and waved their wands to the Death Eaters guarding the pile.
"CRUCIO!" they shouted, and two of them fell to the ground, shaking. Dolohov didn't seem to care. His prey at the moment were the twins. It is how a hunt went. Choose a prey, and stick to it until it was dead.
Emmeline and Sturgis began climbing the large pile of marble, trying to scale the mound. Fabian looked back to the Death Eaters, now circling around them. They were going as heroes.
"Ready to see Mum again, Gideon?" he asked his brother, and Gideon nodded.
"Seems like we're due for a trip there, doesn't it?" he agreed.
"It certainly does," Fabian murmured to himself as he saw Emmeline and Sturgis mount the pile to reach for the edge of the second floor. Dolohov stood in front of them, raised his wand, and said the words.
"Avada Kedavera," he said, and the green light shot through Fabian. His face became one of surprise, and a soundless scream escaped from his mouth. After the light had subsided, he fell to the ground. Emmeline screamed, and Gideon took his wand to the surrounding Death Eaters.
"THE PREWETTS SHALL DIE TOGETHER!" he shouted, "AVADA KEDAVERA!"
Five Death Eaters dropped, stone dead, and Dolohov raised his wand again. Gideon ran towards him, ready to plunge his own wand into Dolohov's heart.
Sturgis pulled Emmeline to safety just as the Russian opened his mouth. She turned, and screamed again.
"NOO!" she cried, "GIDEON!"
"Aveda Kedavera," Dolohov said, and the last green light shot from his wand. Gideon stood, not screaming, not surprised. Just solid. He closed his eyes as he made impact with the green jet. It struck his chest, and then his heart, and then his back, and then out of his body. He spread his arms, and opened his eyes to stare at Dolohov with a stare that had no emotion or feeling to it at all. Emmeline and Sturgis watched from the second floor as he dropped his wand, and the green light disappeared.
Gideon then quietly fell back, his arms still outstretched like an angel, and he landed next to his brother on the ground.
The Prewetts were dead.
"No," Emmeline whispered, "No!"
"Come on," Sturgis said, grabbing her and making her stand up, "We have to go."
James was slammed up against the wall as Voldemort pointed his wand toward him. He gave out a howl, and Voldemort fed off of his pain.
"Tell me where he is, Potter," he said, all amusement gone from his tone, "Tell me where he is, or I'll kill you."
"Then kill me," James said, and Voldemort swished his wand toward the bed. James felt himself flying to the mattress, and his head banged up against the bedpost.
"WHERE IS THE BOY, POTTER!" Voldemort demanded.
"You tell me," James said, almost losing consciousness.
"I will kill her," Voldemort hissed, drawing nearer, "I will kill your beloved Mudblood wife. I will kill your friends. I will kill them all if you do not tell me where the boy is."
"Then kill them," James muttered.
"YOU STILL DEFY ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Voldemort said, and then stuck his wand to the spine of James's back, "CRUCIO!"
The pain was indescribable. His entire body jolted like no other time before, and he almost forgot himself in the electrocution of the shock. But he didn't scream. He bit his tongue until he could taste blood, but he would not scream.
"TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"
James didn't answer, and the pain increased. He could feel his nails clawing into his palms, and his body twist and shake, making the entire bed twist with him.
"TELL ME!"
"NOOOOOO! NEVER!"
And then the pain was gone. Voldemort stood, confused, above him, and James gasped for breath. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
"You are stronger than I thought," Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing, "And yet you will not live. I will kill you if you do not tell me where the boy is."
"THEN KILL ME!" James cried.
Voldemort could not find his weakness. He seemed not to have one. James made that oath with his friends years ago. Forever Alive. They were willing to die for him. He knew that. He had no weaknesses. He had none left.
Voldemort had destroyed most of them, but had just strengthened others.
Sirius and Lily fell out of the fireplace, and Lily gasped. Dorcas Meadows was dead on the floor, and the staircase had been blown to bits. They could see people moving in the front hall, from where they stood. They were Death Eaters.
And in the midst of them, were the dead bodies of the Prewett twins.
"Come on," Sirius said, "We have to get to James. Voldemort's already up there . . ."
And the blast of green light came from over their heads. They ducked, and Lily ran ahead of Sirius, right into the awaiting danger.
The two of them rushed into the hall, and saw who awaited them.
"You," Lily started.
Dolohov laughed, and turned from the Prewetts to the new prey.
"Ah," he said, "It's the Mudblood and the traitor. What a coincidence. We were just discussing what we were to do with your son as soon as we get a hold of him. Were we not?"
The Death Eaters nodded, and chuckled to themselves. Lily glared, and raised her wand.
"Avada Kedavera!"
A voice had come from behind them, and struck two Death Eaters to the ground. Dolohov's smirk disappeared, and melted into a disgusted expression. He looked past Lily and Sirius, and his fist grew tighter.
"Alastor," he snarled.
Moody now stood in the front entrance, looking more determined than the rest of them put together. He glared at Dolohov, and then raised his wand again.
"Who told you where we were, Antonin," he ordered.
Dolohov didn't reply.
"Who. Told. You."
"I would have thought you would have known by now, Alastor," he said in his sour voice, "Not up to your usual standards, sadly."
Sirius and Lily saw that Moody was now looking at them with his large eye. Then it turned to look at the rubble. Then back to them.
"Now why would you say that," Moody said, not taking his eye off of Sirius. Sirius nodded, and then grabbed Lily as they headed for the mound. All of the Death Eaters were focusing on Moody now, and didn't notice them slip past.
"Don't think that I don't know how you treat him," Dolohov chortled, "You treat him just like the rest. When he is to be your downfall. You trust him. You don't even give a second thought about him. And yet he is your worst enemy. Worse than I."
"Antonin Dolohov," Moody said, seeing Lily and Sirius clamber up the marble, "You are under arrest."
"Oh, this again?" Dolohov said, somewhat entertained.
"I will kill you this time, and no amount of sweet talk will bring you back from the dead," Moody warned, jabbing his wand closer, "I will."
"I bet you will," Dolohov said.
The Russian looked to the swiveling eye, and saw that it wasn't directed towards him. He looked closer, and saw a reflection in it. A reflection of two people climbing to the second floor.
"NO!" he spun around, and aimed his wand at the Mudblood, "IMPERIO!"
Lily screamed, and then grew limp. Sirius grabbed her, and then spun his head to look at Dolohov. Dolohov only smiled.
"Mr. Black," Lily laughed from his arms, "There's no escape from a nightmare."
No weaknesses. The boy had no weaknesses left. He would do anything for his spawn. How did you defeat a boy who had nothing left?
Offer him what he lost.
Voldemort's smile returned, and he sneered at the boy now laying on his stomach on the bed. James couldn't breathe. He couldn't see straight. He felt as if he was dying.
"What if I told you I had a proposition to make," he said, his voice as smooth as ice, "What if I told you that I could make everything perfect again?"
James didn't reply. Or maybe he was incapable of replying.
"What if I gave you your family back?" Voldemort proposed, "Your real family. Not that Mudblood and mutt child. But your real family?"
There was a realization in James's eyes as he stared out into nothingness. He thought he was beaten. But this thought gave him strength. His real family.
"I know how you've yearned to see your father again," Voldemort said, coming closer to the bed, "I know how you cry at night, waking up to who you think is your mother. I know everything about you, James. I know more than you do yourself."
James's breathing became rapid, and Voldemort saw this. He had him. He had him in his clutches.
"You give me that boy," he said, almost whispering now, "And I will return your family to you. Your house. Your sister. Your mother. Your father. Even your stupid house elf."
James closed his eyes, and opened them again to look at a focused room. But it was not the room that he had been in a moment before. It was his room. His bedroom at his childhood home. The sun was out, and it was peering through his window and onto the Quidditch posters taped to the wall. It was just how he had left it all of those years ago. His bedspread showed the Chudley Cannon's logo, and his broom was propped up against the far corner across from him. His desk was littered with pictures and crayons and candies and other assorted things that a little boy needs.
He could see the hallway from where he lay in his bed, and it was illuminated with the early rays of sunshine radiating from the dawn of a Saturday morning. He could hear a lively pair of footsteps running up the stairs, and then appear in his doorway.
It was a little girl, with the loveliest eyes he had ever seen. Her dimples showed as she smiled at her younger brother, and her pigtails bounced.
"Come on, James!" Wendy giggled, "It's snowing!"
James couldn't move. She was so perfect. So young.
So alive.
"Master James! Master James!"
Another figure appeared in the doorway, and Wendy moved out of the way for Sprite to come flying into his room. She was carrying his socks, and she flopped them down at the foot of his bed. Her worn mitten was as good as new, and she wore it as proudly as the day she was given it. Which didn't seem that long ago.
"Master James should get dressed before Master James and Mistress Wendy go outside! It is too cold for Master James!" Sprite argued, throwing a ball of socks at James's head.
"Sprite, can you please leave James alone and go fix breakfast?"
James looked back to the door, and there behind Wendy was his mother. She was young, and her face was illuminated by his window's light. She was beautiful.
"Hello, dear," she said, putting a hand on Wendy's shoulder, "How was your sleep?"
And before James could open his mouth, he saw him. The last to arrive in his bedroom, and the one that he had wanted to see all along.
A man with a strong chin and dark eyes was standing behind his mother, his glowing smile directed toward his son. His stomach was larger, due to the years of Sprite's cooking, and his hand was shoved into his right pocket as far as it could go, just as it always had been. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he beamed at his youngest child.
It was his father.
"I'm so proud of you, son," he said, and James couldn't find his voice to say anything back. So he just stared at his family, all standing in the door, smiling at him. They were alive.
This was his true family.
The one he had lost so long ago.
What he would give just to make it real. Just to make them come back to life and be with him once more.
"Come back home, James," Mum said, resting her head on Dad's broad shoulder, "We've missed you. Come back home ."
"This can all be yours," Dad said, "Just give them the boy."
James felt his hand reaching towards his father, wanting to feel his touch again. Wanting for him to hold him and hug him and never let go. He was home . . . He was . . .
And then another person entered behind Dad and Mum and Wendy. One that did not fit with the black hair of his parents. The red curls stood out from his family's and James squinted to see who it was.
Green eyes. The girl had green eyes.
Who was she?
"James!" she cried, and James blinked. It was Lily!
He had almost forgotten!
"James! No!" Lily said, rushing forward and past his family. She couldn't see them. They were ghosts.
"Lily . . ."
"No!" Dad shouted, "No! She means nothing to you!"
And Dad hit Lily. She crumpled on the floor, and fell silent.
James shot up out of his bed, and the bedroom dissolved back into Moody's house. Voldemort stood over Lily now, glaring down at her.
"STUPID GIRL!" he howled.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" James shouted, with a new sort of strength. Voldemort's gaze shot to him, and his eyes narrowed.
"YOU!" he said, "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU ALL UNTIL THERE ISN'T ONE MORE POTTER ON THIS DAMNED ISLAND! I'LL KILL YOU!"
And he started for James, his wand raised. James braced himself. This was the end. He knew it.
"Say hello to your father for me," Voldemort snarled, and then stuck his wand between the boy's eyes, "He was a fool, just like you. Avada . . ."
"AVADA KEDAVERA!"
A green light shot through the back of Voldemort's cloak, and the Dark Lord winced. The light could not go all the way through his body, for it was too weak. Voldemort snapped around, and came to face to face with another man.
Sirius Black.
"So James was right. You are human," he laughed.
Voldemort, the back of his robes charred, spread his arms, and opened his mouth. A wind and sound like no other burst from his throat. Like a siren or a hurricane, it hit Sirius, and his hair was blown back out of his face. His feet left the ground, and he went flying out the door, down the corridor, and off of the second floor.
Down to the pile of jagged marble he went. He saw it coming closer and closer as he flew through the air.
His body hit the rubble with a thud, and his head richoched off of a pointed edge. The last thing he saw before growing limp was Moody, in the midst of the Death Eaters, fighting them off.
Then he closed his eyes.
And all was dark.
Voldemort stood there, for a moment, choking on something inside of him, before turning to James, and between intakes of breath, cursing him and Sirius.
"This is not the end, Potter," he gasped, the Avada Kedavera curse fighting inside of his chest, "This is not the end. The next time we meet, I will kill every one of you. I promise you that."
And then he was gone with the shadows of the night. James stared at where he was, and where his father had been.
He had heard the words from his father.
He was proud of him.
He was proud of his son.
Then he looked to Lily's crumpled body, still laying still and quiet on the floor. He had chosen her. He had chosen Harry.
He now knew what to do.
He had his answer.
"It's time to go home," he whispered to himself.
The reports would read that Gideon and Fabian died, surrounded by Antonin Dolohov and his Death Eaters. Dorcas Meadows was killed by Voldemort upon his entrance. Emmeline Vance and Sturgis Podmore were struck unconscious by a Lily Potter (who was under the Imperius Curse at the time). Lily Potter, after breaking her way free, was struck unconscious by Voldemort. Sirius Black received a blow to the head by Voldemort as well. And all Death Eaters involved were taken into custody. This included Dolohov.
Not long after Voldemort's flight, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order entered through the front door. Frank Longbottom was with them. It was the first time in months that he had shown his face.
When Lily was revived, she wouldn't speak to James about what had happened before her arrival in his bedroom. All she could say was, "I beat it. I beat the curse."
Gideon, Fabian, and Dorcas were all three lost that night, and they were taken away by the Ministry as soon as Crouch and Toddles arrived, along with Cornelius Fudge. The others were taken to St. Mungo's.
That is where James now sat, at the bedside of his best friend who had given his well being to save him from his fate. Sirius's head was bandaged, and he still hadn't woken up. James took his cold hand in his as he looked at his friend, who wasn't responding to him. He had gone up against Voldemort for him.
The Dark Lord.
He had defied the Dark Lord.
"Hey, mate," he said quietly, as if not to disturb him, "You're stupid, you know? Going in there for a stupid arrogant bully like me. I hope you know that."
The room was filled with Emmeline, Sturgis, Moody, Lily, and Sirius, all being checked on for any sort of injuries whatsoever. James had been given the okay, and now he was back into his regular clothes. Lily was talking to a Ministry official about the whereabouts of Remus and Harry, and they were assuring her that they were in good custody at the Ministry itself.
But Sirius wasn't awake. What if he gave his life because James hadn't gone into hiding earlier? God, he had been an idiot. Why had he done the things he had? He should be saving the family he had left, not mourning the one he had lost. Lily and Harry was all he had left. He hadn't seen that.
He had only seen his father. And the expression he wore when James had turned his back on the idea of joining the Order.
But now he saw that father of the night gone before. The father that was proud of him. There was something real about that father. Something that Voldemort couldn't have created. It was the authentic look of his father that he didn't remember clear enough for Voldemort to pull from him.
It was real.
And now he knew what to do.
"I'm so sorry, Sirius," he said, looking back at his still friend, "I'm so sorry."
And as James closed his eyes, a small mischevious smile curled onto the unconscoius man's face. Soon, laughter broke from his mouth, and James looked up.
"You little prat!" James said, hitting him, and Sirius howled with laughter as he opened his eyes to block James's blow.
"Well, you can't expect me to split open my head and not get any sympathy from no one, hey?" he said, and James hit him again.
"You had me scared, you git!" and Sirius chortled as James joined in the laughing. Lily and the Ministry official stopped talking and looked over to see what the commotion was. Moody also looked in their direction, but he paid no heed to James.
He only stared at Sirius.
The words of Dolohov's came back to haunt him.
"You treat him just like the rest. When he is to be your downfall. You trust him. You don't even give a second thought about him. And yet he is your worst enemy. Worse than I."
"So he let you live, huh?" Sirius asked, and James nodded.
"It would seem that way, wouldn't it."
The two friends sat there for a moment, as Sirius adjusted his covers, and then James said, "Sirius?"
"Yeah?"
"I've made up my mind," he said, "And I want to tell you first."
"Okay," Sirius said, "What is it? You picked out a new house?"
"No," James said, "I'm going into hiding."
Sirius's laughing ceased, and he became very solemn. He folded his hands, and gave a small smile.
"You are?"
"Yes, I am."
Sirius nodded, "Good," he said, and then with a second thought, repeated, "Good."
"I don't know where we'll go, but . . . we'll find somewhere," James assured him, and Sirius nodded again.
"And I'll be going into hiding, too," he said, "You saw what I did tonight. It'll just be a matter of time before . . . well, you know . . . before he's back for me."
"Are you scared, Sirius Black?" James asked, half jokingly.
"No, I'm not scared," Sirius said in all seriousness, "But I have to be alive for Harry, now don't I?"
With that last comment, neither one of them said another word.
Their minds were made up, and they all knew what their duties were.
"James."
James looked to the door leading to the waiting room, and there stood Frank Longbottom, helping Moody to the door. From what James could make out, Moody's nose was bandaged.
"The Headmaster requires that he speaks with you. Now," Frank said, solemnly, "We're leaving for Hogwarts."
James nodded, and then stood from Sirius's side.
It was time to do the right thing. The honorable thing.
James Potter had never had more pride.
(Note to readers under 13: Again, there's a reason why it's rated what it's rated.)
(Note from the author: This is a long one. But I have been waiting to write this chapter for some time now, and we all know where it goes from here. From here, we know the story, and I will try my best to write it. Also, let's hear it for the readers! We reached the 900th reply mark! Thank you so much for everyone that has read, reviewed, and fallen in love with these characters as much as I have. Without the readers, this story would just be a few words printed, and they would have no life. Thank you everyone so much.)
"You will meet with the Headmaster tomorrow morning," Moody said, showing James and Lily to their room. It was the same one in which James had occupied during their training. It seemed as if nothing had changed, and after all of their hard work, they were left in the same place as they had begun. Nowhere.
The house had been found in pieces. The last bit of hope that they had held onto had fallen that night with the intrusion. But at least Lily had her child. At least Harry was alive.
Moody gave James one more glaring look, before slamming the door and hobbling down the corridor. It was well into the second hour of the morning, and the sky was as dark as ever. James sat on the bed, shaken from the night's events. They had gotten an urgent owl from Sirius, saying that he was at Remus's house and with Harry. The three of them had been trying to get a hold of Lily and him for a day, and didn't know exactly where they had gone.
James and Lily had gone back home, as promised. And had found it in ruins. They had spent a good amount of the past day trying to get help, but so far away from Headquarters and their friends, they had no where to turn to. Finally Sirius's owl had come and they had written him back. Sirius had come on his motorbike, and the three of them had entered the cabin right at the same time as Moody was dusting himself off from the soot in the fireplace.
They were safe, but their house had been attacked by two Death Eaters. And what was he supposed to think by that? That it was all his fault? That he couldn't go out for once with his wife to enjoy life without Death Eaters attacking? That it was somehow his doings?
No, it wasn't fair.
"Dadda," Harry said, clapping his hands together, and his bright eyes smiling up at his father. He was sitting on Lily's lap, bouncing on her lap. Lily was still in her good cloak from the outing that they had had. She was looking her baby over for any injuries, even two hours after their arrival at the cabin.
"It wasn't our fault if we wanted to go out for one night," James said, standing up, "It wasn't our fault to try to have a life."
"We don't have a life," Lily said, still looking at her son. She had that same look on her face that she had had the night of her mother and father's death.
"We don't have a life to live, James," she repeated, looking up at him with glassy eyes, "That house . . . I thought we may grow old together in it. It was burnt to the ground. Wherever we go, they know where we are. We can fight them, but in the long run we're still running away from them. We can't live like that! We aren't living!"
"I'm going to get a job, Lily," James said, kneeling down to her, "And I'll go to work for Moody at the Ministry, just like Sirius. And I'll . . . I'll buy you a new house, and we'll . . . .The war's almost over, Lily . . ."
"Why can't you just leave?" she asked quietly, "I'm ready to go. Why are you still holding on?"
James's face fell, and then hardened. He took Lily's hand in his, and then looked to his son.
"Don't you ever wonder what your parents would have thought of your actions?" he asked her, "And how they died in vain?"
"I know that my father would have wanted me to be happy," she said, "That was the most important thing to him. That I was who I wanted to be, and that I was happy with myself. But James, I'm not happy . . ."
"My father wanted me to be proud," James said, interrupting his wife, and now staring into her green eyes, "My father wanted to be proud himself. He wanted me to join the Order. He wanted me to fight. And I have to."
"Your father is dead," Lily said, "How many times do people have to say this to you for you to get it through your thick skull? Your father is dead because of his pride. Frank and Alice are in hiding . . ."
"Frank's a coward," James said.
Lily stared at her husband for a long time, before breaking away from him, and standing to walk to the door. She opened the door, and then turned back to look at him.
"James, I love you," she said, "But sometimes I swear you think you're still at Hogwarts. This isn't a game, James. We're adults now. He wants to kill us."
James didn't answer, and Lily sighed.
"It's time to go, James," she added, and then stepped out into the hall.
"And so I say to him, 'Of course I wanted the duck!'"
Everyone in the living room laughed together as Sturgis finished his punchline. The Order members had all gathered together for a good reason this night at Moody's house: To protect the Potters and their child. Lily and Harry now sat with them, Lily curled up on the couch. Dorcas, the Prewetts, Sturgis, and Emmeline surrounded her, all drinking either a bottle of butterbeer or tea. It was if nothing had happened that night, yet everyone knew it had. Moody had gone out for the night to check up on something or other, and he had not returned yet.
Gideon and Fabian, their matching brown hair now grown to their shoulders, sat next to each other, talking to Dorcas. They were speaking of some sort of bargain Dorcas had found in a small wizarding shop, and Gideon seemed very interested in the prices of new brooms.
They were both largely built men, those twins. They looked almost exactly identical, if it hadn't been for the fact that Gideon sported blue eyes and Fabian brown. That's the way that Lily had told them apart. Harry had fallen asleep in her lap. He looked so perfect. So peaceful and calm and innocent.
"Dear," Emmeline said, sitting next to Lily, "I know you're worried. But you should calm down. Go get some rest."
"I can't," Lily said, giving out a sigh, "I can't sleep. I haven't been able to sleep for a while now."
Emmeline looked at Dorcas, and then at the Prewetts. Finally, Gideon stood to enter the kitchen.
"Maybe another round of butterbeer?"
Everyone agreed with murmurs of "of course" or "sure," and then the room was muted again. Dorcas, her dark expression gazing over to the two girls, seated across from her. Her and Lily had never gotten to know each other as great friends. Dorcas was the sort of woman that would have enjoyed Defense Against the Dark Arts more than Quidditch or Charms. She lived for the Order, had never had a family, and seemed to be quiet and distant from the world. Her black almond shaped eyes now stood out from her pale skin and raven colored hair. She was so different from Lily, with her red locks and green pupils.
But something was shared between them at that moment. Something neither of them could explain.
"Vance," Dorcas said in her lower voice, and Emmeline looked to her.
"Yeah?"
"How about you go help Gideon in the kitchen," Dorcas asked. It was more of a command than a question. Emmeline, getting the message, retreated through the door. Sturgis and Fabian followed her in and out of the room. Lily looked longingly after them, but didn't move.
Dorcas then pulled back her hair, setting it behind her ears, and edged closer to her. Lily looked at her, unsure. She didn't know this woman. She wasn't like Emmeline or Alice or herself. She was unknown to most of them.
"Mrs. Potter, do you know why I joined the Order?" she asked. Lily shook her head, and Dorcas folded her hands on her lap.
"My husband was killed. Along with my daughter and son," she said darkly. Lily felt her heart drop. But Dorcas didn't look at her, but just continued with her story.
"His name was Matthew. We met at the train station in my seventh year. I was going to Hogwarts, and he was a luggage boy for one of the Muggle lines. It turned out he was a Muggle himself. We fell in love, and married in our twentieth year. I went to live as a Muggle, yet I still kept my job at the Ministry. The next Christmas, Elizabeth was given to us, and then her younger brother the following year. His name was William. William Meadows. I kept my husband's name, even after that night."
Dorcas's eyes grew darker, and they narrowed as she scanned the floor rug.
"That night, we were in our beds, when they came. It was a night of one of the first Muggle riots. It was that night that Elizabeth was screaming from her bed, and William ran into our room, bawling. I grabbed him, and Matthew went for my little girl. William and I made it out before the Death Eaters attacked our house, but Matthew and Elizabeth . . ." she paused, and then shut her eyes, "I saw from where we hid across the street, two cloaked men dragging Matthew away by his hair and . . . they killed him right there.
"William cried, and they heard him. They came for us, and all I could do was run. All I could do was think about my son and how I had to save him. All I could do was pray for them to stumble or for us to be able to fly away somehow. I had not wanted this life for my family. For my children," Dorcas paused again, and then looked at Lily, jaw set, "But they caught us. And they took William from my arms, and held a wand to my throat. I fought back. I killed them all. But William had been taken away. I never saw either of my children again. I don't know what happened to them, and I hope that I never know. Do you know that feeling, Lily? That desperation in which you would give your own life for your child if it would only save them from that fate? I live with that every day, wondering if somehow William ran away from them, with his sister . . . and they're out there somewhere . . . But as the years pass, I lose hope."
"I'm sorry," was all Lily could say, and Dorcas didn't seem to even hear her.
"Hope is the only thing we have left, Lily," Dorcas said, "That hope to know that somehow that sun will rise again, no matter what else happens. And I still have that hope. I have it in your son. And by watching you, and your husband with him. Don't let me lose my hope."
"So," Lily said, hardly able to speak, "What do you think we should do?"
Dorcas hesitated for a moment, and then looked back to the carpet, "Whatever you need to do to protect your son."
Lily waited for more, but none came. So the two women sat, nodding, understanding the other's story. There was nothing more to do but hope. Lily knew that. And Lily knew what she had to do.
BAM!
The two of them started, and Lily gasped. Her head shot toward the front door, and her eyes widened.
BAM!
The door was shaking. Something was outside.
"What is that?" she whispered, and Dorcas shrugged.
"I don't . . ."
BAM!
"POTTER!" a howling voice came from the front step.
Lily felt her breath become sharp as she recognized the voice. It was a voice from long ago. One that came to her and her husband in the woods, and then in a brokendown house, and then again in a cold dark room. The voice that haunted her dreams, and inspired her nightmares.
"It's him," Lily croaked, "They know . . ."
She reached for her wand. Dorcas looked to the girl's hand, and then suddenly grabbed it.
"No," she said, "No, you're not going to fight."
BAM!
"What?" Lily cried, and Dorcas heaved her to her feet.
"Go to the fireplace," she said, hurried now.
BAM!
A piece of the door cracked off and went skidding across the hallway. A green light shone through the hole that the assailant had made. Dumbledore had guarded the Headquarter's entrance with spells that could not be easily opened, but this other person on the front step was powerful. He would eventually make it in. And when he did . . .
"Now listen to me," Dorcas said, shoving Lily and Harry toward the hearth and grabbing a handful of Floo Powder, "Go to Remus Lupin's. Your two friends are there. Bring them back here with as many Ministry officials you can find. Send an owl to Dumbledore. You have to go . . ."
"NO! JAMES!" Lily screamed, now hysterical.
"We're here! We'll give our lives before letting him touch them," Dorcas assured her, "Just go. Just go . . ."
Her voice was so calm, and there was not even the slightest trace of fear in her tone. And for that, Lily trusted her. Lily trusted that this woman that she barely knew would help her family.
And so she went.
"Remus Lupin," Lily said, dropping the Floo Powder, and then disappearing in the flames.
Dorcas was alone in the kitchen as she spun around, and readied her wand.
BAM!
The door was almost ready to splinter apart.
BAM!
"Come on," Dorcas murmured to herself, "Come on, you . . ."
BAM!
"Come on . . ." her dark eyes narrowed again, and her body tensed, as if waiting to leap onto her prey.
BAM!
The door was kicked in, and there he stood. All donned in black and red, and green sparks shooting from his wand. His face could not be seen behind the shadows of his hood, but a smile could. A smile of a demented and powerful man.
"Meadows," he sneered, raising his wand, "What a lovely surprise."
Remus sat on his bed, watching Sirius making himself something to drink. He didn't know what it was, and he wasn't about to ask. Sirius hadn't gone home. An owl from Dumbledore told him not to. That would be the next place the Death Eaters would check, due to the fact that it was Sirius that took Harry away.
"So, would you like anything while I'm up?" Sirius asked his friend, and Remus shook his head. He wasn't feeling very well.
And there was something on his mind.
Sirius came back to the main room, and took a seat on the chair that had been pulled apart by Remus. Sirius looked around for a moment, remembering the destruction of this place.
"It's been hard since you guys stopped coming," Remus said quietly.
"As I can see," Sirius agreed, and then took a drink of his beverage.
Remus was still hurt by the words of James Potter. He hadn't seen his old friend in a good five months, and now that he had . . . he never wanted to see him again. He didn't care if James fell off the face of the earth . . . it wouldn't even bother him.
"Getting late, isn't it?" Sirius yawned, and then sprawled out in his chair, "Wonder when I'll be able to go home."
"You're welcome here as long as you like," Remus said, his hospitable instincts kicking in.
Sirius gave him an odd look, and then closed his eyes.
"Sirius?"
He looked to Remus, who was still upright in his bed, "Yeah?"
"Why here? Why is this the safest place you could think of?" he asked, and Sirius shrugged.
"Well, I just remember when we were boys," he said, "And whenever we needed to hide, you'd cover for us. That's just the way it was. And you always did a good job of it . . ."
Remus nodded, and a slight smile twisted onto his face, "Right."
Sirius exchanged the grin, and then closed his eyes again.
Remus lay down, feeling somewhat comforted. At least one person still trusted him, still saw him as a friend . . .
"Just wait," the wolf laughed, settling down next to Remus, "Just wait, Remus. They'll all turn against you."
"Shut up," Remus whispered.
"James already has. Don't you remember the way he looked at you?"
"Shut up."
"It draws nearer, Remus. It draws nearer."
"It . . ."
"It draws nearer. It draws nearer."
Remus closed his eyes, and the wolf leaned in to his ear. Then, putting a paw to Remus's own mouth, it said again, "It draws nearer."
"What did you say?"
Remus's eyes shot open, and the wolf retreated to a corner of the room, sniggering. Remus sat up to look at Sirius, who looked very pale.
"What? Nothing."
Sirius stared wide-eyed at him, gawking. As if Remus was some sort of exhibit at a zoo. One that could easily kill him.
"It draws nearer," Sirius said, "That's what you said. That's what you just said."
"I didn't . . ."
"What draws nearer, Remus?" he said, almost accusing. Remus was confused.
"I . . . I don't . . ."
"What draws nearer?"
"I don't know," Remus said truthfully, even though he had a pretty good idea of what it was that would. That day that he had thought of so many times in his mind when the world would break apart. But he didn't say anything. He just looked back to Sirius, frozen stiff from his friend's inquisitory stare.
Sirius couldn't move. It had been from his dream. The figure, illuminated by the moon, saying "It draws nearer . . ."
And marking the door with a green X.
He had to get out of here. He had to run. He had to go get someone and tell them what he knew. He had to escape this place. The werewolf was going to kill him. He was going to flat out murder him and there would be no one to hear him while he did it.
"I have to . . ."
With a blast of smoke, the fireplace shot alive, and a body came flying out of the soot and dust. It fell on the floor, and coughed. Something was in the person's arm, screaming and crying.
"Lily?" Remus addressed it, and Lily stood, her eyes bloodshot and Harry in her arms.
"THEY CAME! THEY KNOW WHERE THE HEADQUARTERS ARE! HE'S THERE! HE . . ."
"Who's there, Lily?" Sirius started, setting his drink down. Lily, in a swarm of tears and rage, ran to him and embraced him.
"We have to go! James . . . he . . ."
"Who's there, Lily? Who came?"
Lily buried her face into Sirius's chest, and then finally screamed, "Voldemort!"
Both of the men froze, and then Sirius grabbed Harry and handed him to Remus.
"You stay here," he said, "Watch Harry. Do not let anything happen to him, or by God, I'll come back and kill you myself."
"I . . ." Remus started, but they were already grabbing for the Floo Powder.
"Stay here," Lily said, unaware of the hatred between the two men, "Please, we need you to contact Dumbledore and the others."
"I have to go with you . . ."
"STAY HERE, LUPIN!" Sirius commanded, and then they were gone.
"FOR ENGLAND!"
A blast of silent green light as Emmeline turned around to shut the kitchen cupboard. She screamed, and Gideon and Fabian grabbed her and pulled her down as the green light shot through the door.
Something dropped outside, and Emmeline screamed again. It had been Dorcas's voice shouting.
They knew what had happened.
"What's going on?" Sturgis demanded.
"Someone's here," Emmeline said, her hands shaking, "Someone found us."
"All right," Fabian said, pushing his hair out of his face, "We're here for a reason, right? To protect the boy. And that's what we're going to do. Even if we die in the process. Does everyone understand?"
They nodded, and Fabian squeezed Emmeline's shoulder, "Good. Now, James is upstairs. He thinks Harry is up there as well. We can't let them get to the second floor. Do whatever you have to do. This is our duty. This is our war."
And with that, Fabian gave out a battle-like cry, and shot out of the kitchen and into the living room. The others followed him, and they all stopped suddenly at the sight of Dorcas's body, glowing with green.
"Dorcas!" Emmeline gasped.
All of the candles had been burnt out, and now only the streetlights from outside illuminated the darkened room. Yet they could make out the shape of a cloaked man, almost floating up the stairs. Up towards Harry Potter.
"VOLDEMORT!" Fabian shouted, and Voldemort turned around to face the stupid boy.
"Fabian Prewett," he hissed, and raised his wand, "Yes, I know who you are. I know who all of you are. You'd be best to run before they get here. They're on their way."
"Tom Riddle, you are under arrest . . ."
Voldemort began laughing, somewhat amused at their pitiful attempts to scare him.
"Now isn't that a name I haven't heard in a while," he chortled, and then pointed his wand to the door, "They like to call me by a different name."
And then, they came. Thirty Death Eaters, all donned in their uniforms, and all ready to kill. Their wands were pointed towards the small group of Order members, and Fabian didn't budge. His small army stayed behind him as they prepared themselves to fight to the death.
"Move aside," a low Russian voice came, and the sea of white masks parted. Out from the depths of them came an uncovered face. One that they all recognized.
Antonin Dolohov had returned, and his scruffy face sneered at the proud soldiers.
"Hello, Prewett," he said with his thick accent, and then his eyes shifted to Dorcas's dead body, and he laughed.
Emmeline glared as he took happiness from the sight of Dorcas, and she started forward. Sturgis pulled her back, and Dolohov laughed again.
"Oh, little children," he said, "That is what they give us to fight. Little children."
Fabian looked back to the staircase, and his mouth dropped.
"No," he hissed to Gideon, "He's gone. He's upstairs."
Emmeline leaped onto the marble staircase, followed by Sturgis. But it was too late. Dolohov raised his wand, and blasted a red light to the stairs. They crumbled, and with a large crack, fell to the ground in a heap. Emmeline screamed, and jumped out of the way of the falling marble. When she looked back up at where the stairs had been, only a large pile of rubble lay there, the dust flying. The second floor was too high up for them to reach.
"You are mine," Dolohov laughed, "You are all mine."
James lay in his bed, staring at the top of the ceiling. Maybe there was some truth in what Lily had said to him. Maybe he did think too much of himself and his image. But really . . . he knew it wasn't Hogwarts. He knew he was grown up. He knew . . .
"JAMES POTTER!"
James jumped up, out of his bed. Someone was coming from the corridor outside. Something was wrong.
"GIVE ME THE BOY, POTTER!"
James fumbled around in the dark for his glasses and wand. He found them, and then started towards the door, wand out. Where was Lily? Where was Harry?
BAM!
The door fell, and James was faced with green smoke. Out of the smoke came the man he had not seen for years. The man smiled at him, evilly, and laughed.
"We meet again, for the last time," he said, "Finally I find you here. Out of all places. Right where you began."
"Voldemort," James hissed, and Voldemort laughed again. The laugh was icy and cold, and it pierced right through James's body.
"Where's the boy, Potter," Voldemort snarled.
"He's not with me," James said.
"Don't lie, Potter. I know where you are every minute of the day. I know who you're with wherever you go. Now where is the boy."
"He's not here," James said again.
Voldemort glared at him, as if studying him, and then realized he was telling him the truth. He shot a red light through the wall, and a lamp fell on the floor and shattered.
"DAMN!"
The Death Eaters were guarding the pile of marble, and encircling the four Order members. They had all come here together years ago, when they had been recruited by the Headmaster himself. The pride that they had felt at that time could have been enough to keep them all alive. But now the only thing that resided in their hearts was hate. Complete hate for these creatures daring to come into their house and kill them.
"Let us see here," Dolohov said, stroking his chin, "I say that the large arrogant ones can go first. Don't you think?"
A Death Eater to his right nodded, and laughed.
Fabian lunged forward, "CRUCIO!"
Dolohov ducked the spell, and a Death Eater behind him fell to the ground, screaming. Dolohov, with a smirk on his face, raised his wand to Fabian.
"Go," Fabian muttered to Sturgis and Emmeline, "Get up the rubble. Get to the second floor. We have to save James. Get up there."
"But . . ."
"Go!" Fabian said, giving a determined look to Emmeline, "We'll hold them off."
"You'll die . . . you can't take them all on by yourself!"
"So we will die," Gideon said, as determined as his brother.
And with that, Emmeline and Sturgis ran from behind the twins, and waved their wands to the Death Eaters guarding the pile.
"CRUCIO!" they shouted, and two of them fell to the ground, shaking. Dolohov didn't seem to care. His prey at the moment were the twins. It is how a hunt went. Choose a prey, and stick to it until it was dead.
Emmeline and Sturgis began climbing the large pile of marble, trying to scale the mound. Fabian looked back to the Death Eaters, now circling around them. They were going as heroes.
"Ready to see Mum again, Gideon?" he asked his brother, and Gideon nodded.
"Seems like we're due for a trip there, doesn't it?" he agreed.
"It certainly does," Fabian murmured to himself as he saw Emmeline and Sturgis mount the pile to reach for the edge of the second floor. Dolohov stood in front of them, raised his wand, and said the words.
"Avada Kedavera," he said, and the green light shot through Fabian. His face became one of surprise, and a soundless scream escaped from his mouth. After the light had subsided, he fell to the ground. Emmeline screamed, and Gideon took his wand to the surrounding Death Eaters.
"THE PREWETTS SHALL DIE TOGETHER!" he shouted, "AVADA KEDAVERA!"
Five Death Eaters dropped, stone dead, and Dolohov raised his wand again. Gideon ran towards him, ready to plunge his own wand into Dolohov's heart.
Sturgis pulled Emmeline to safety just as the Russian opened his mouth. She turned, and screamed again.
"NOO!" she cried, "GIDEON!"
"Aveda Kedavera," Dolohov said, and the last green light shot from his wand. Gideon stood, not screaming, not surprised. Just solid. He closed his eyes as he made impact with the green jet. It struck his chest, and then his heart, and then his back, and then out of his body. He spread his arms, and opened his eyes to stare at Dolohov with a stare that had no emotion or feeling to it at all. Emmeline and Sturgis watched from the second floor as he dropped his wand, and the green light disappeared.
Gideon then quietly fell back, his arms still outstretched like an angel, and he landed next to his brother on the ground.
The Prewetts were dead.
"No," Emmeline whispered, "No!"
"Come on," Sturgis said, grabbing her and making her stand up, "We have to go."
James was slammed up against the wall as Voldemort pointed his wand toward him. He gave out a howl, and Voldemort fed off of his pain.
"Tell me where he is, Potter," he said, all amusement gone from his tone, "Tell me where he is, or I'll kill you."
"Then kill me," James said, and Voldemort swished his wand toward the bed. James felt himself flying to the mattress, and his head banged up against the bedpost.
"WHERE IS THE BOY, POTTER!" Voldemort demanded.
"You tell me," James said, almost losing consciousness.
"I will kill her," Voldemort hissed, drawing nearer, "I will kill your beloved Mudblood wife. I will kill your friends. I will kill them all if you do not tell me where the boy is."
"Then kill them," James muttered.
"YOU STILL DEFY ME, YOU LITTLE BRAT!" Voldemort said, and then stuck his wand to the spine of James's back, "CRUCIO!"
The pain was indescribable. His entire body jolted like no other time before, and he almost forgot himself in the electrocution of the shock. But he didn't scream. He bit his tongue until he could taste blood, but he would not scream.
"TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"
James didn't answer, and the pain increased. He could feel his nails clawing into his palms, and his body twist and shake, making the entire bed twist with him.
"TELL ME!"
"NOOOOOO! NEVER!"
And then the pain was gone. Voldemort stood, confused, above him, and James gasped for breath. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.
"You are stronger than I thought," Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing, "And yet you will not live. I will kill you if you do not tell me where the boy is."
"THEN KILL ME!" James cried.
Voldemort could not find his weakness. He seemed not to have one. James made that oath with his friends years ago. Forever Alive. They were willing to die for him. He knew that. He had no weaknesses. He had none left.
Voldemort had destroyed most of them, but had just strengthened others.
Sirius and Lily fell out of the fireplace, and Lily gasped. Dorcas Meadows was dead on the floor, and the staircase had been blown to bits. They could see people moving in the front hall, from where they stood. They were Death Eaters.
And in the midst of them, were the dead bodies of the Prewett twins.
"Come on," Sirius said, "We have to get to James. Voldemort's already up there . . ."
And the blast of green light came from over their heads. They ducked, and Lily ran ahead of Sirius, right into the awaiting danger.
The two of them rushed into the hall, and saw who awaited them.
"You," Lily started.
Dolohov laughed, and turned from the Prewetts to the new prey.
"Ah," he said, "It's the Mudblood and the traitor. What a coincidence. We were just discussing what we were to do with your son as soon as we get a hold of him. Were we not?"
The Death Eaters nodded, and chuckled to themselves. Lily glared, and raised her wand.
"Avada Kedavera!"
A voice had come from behind them, and struck two Death Eaters to the ground. Dolohov's smirk disappeared, and melted into a disgusted expression. He looked past Lily and Sirius, and his fist grew tighter.
"Alastor," he snarled.
Moody now stood in the front entrance, looking more determined than the rest of them put together. He glared at Dolohov, and then raised his wand again.
"Who told you where we were, Antonin," he ordered.
Dolohov didn't reply.
"Who. Told. You."
"I would have thought you would have known by now, Alastor," he said in his sour voice, "Not up to your usual standards, sadly."
Sirius and Lily saw that Moody was now looking at them with his large eye. Then it turned to look at the rubble. Then back to them.
"Now why would you say that," Moody said, not taking his eye off of Sirius. Sirius nodded, and then grabbed Lily as they headed for the mound. All of the Death Eaters were focusing on Moody now, and didn't notice them slip past.
"Don't think that I don't know how you treat him," Dolohov chortled, "You treat him just like the rest. When he is to be your downfall. You trust him. You don't even give a second thought about him. And yet he is your worst enemy. Worse than I."
"Antonin Dolohov," Moody said, seeing Lily and Sirius clamber up the marble, "You are under arrest."
"Oh, this again?" Dolohov said, somewhat entertained.
"I will kill you this time, and no amount of sweet talk will bring you back from the dead," Moody warned, jabbing his wand closer, "I will."
"I bet you will," Dolohov said.
The Russian looked to the swiveling eye, and saw that it wasn't directed towards him. He looked closer, and saw a reflection in it. A reflection of two people climbing to the second floor.
"NO!" he spun around, and aimed his wand at the Mudblood, "IMPERIO!"
Lily screamed, and then grew limp. Sirius grabbed her, and then spun his head to look at Dolohov. Dolohov only smiled.
"Mr. Black," Lily laughed from his arms, "There's no escape from a nightmare."
No weaknesses. The boy had no weaknesses left. He would do anything for his spawn. How did you defeat a boy who had nothing left?
Offer him what he lost.
Voldemort's smile returned, and he sneered at the boy now laying on his stomach on the bed. James couldn't breathe. He couldn't see straight. He felt as if he was dying.
"What if I told you I had a proposition to make," he said, his voice as smooth as ice, "What if I told you that I could make everything perfect again?"
James didn't reply. Or maybe he was incapable of replying.
"What if I gave you your family back?" Voldemort proposed, "Your real family. Not that Mudblood and mutt child. But your real family?"
There was a realization in James's eyes as he stared out into nothingness. He thought he was beaten. But this thought gave him strength. His real family.
"I know how you've yearned to see your father again," Voldemort said, coming closer to the bed, "I know how you cry at night, waking up to who you think is your mother. I know everything about you, James. I know more than you do yourself."
James's breathing became rapid, and Voldemort saw this. He had him. He had him in his clutches.
"You give me that boy," he said, almost whispering now, "And I will return your family to you. Your house. Your sister. Your mother. Your father. Even your stupid house elf."
James closed his eyes, and opened them again to look at a focused room. But it was not the room that he had been in a moment before. It was his room. His bedroom at his childhood home. The sun was out, and it was peering through his window and onto the Quidditch posters taped to the wall. It was just how he had left it all of those years ago. His bedspread showed the Chudley Cannon's logo, and his broom was propped up against the far corner across from him. His desk was littered with pictures and crayons and candies and other assorted things that a little boy needs.
He could see the hallway from where he lay in his bed, and it was illuminated with the early rays of sunshine radiating from the dawn of a Saturday morning. He could hear a lively pair of footsteps running up the stairs, and then appear in his doorway.
It was a little girl, with the loveliest eyes he had ever seen. Her dimples showed as she smiled at her younger brother, and her pigtails bounced.
"Come on, James!" Wendy giggled, "It's snowing!"
James couldn't move. She was so perfect. So young.
So alive.
"Master James! Master James!"
Another figure appeared in the doorway, and Wendy moved out of the way for Sprite to come flying into his room. She was carrying his socks, and she flopped them down at the foot of his bed. Her worn mitten was as good as new, and she wore it as proudly as the day she was given it. Which didn't seem that long ago.
"Master James should get dressed before Master James and Mistress Wendy go outside! It is too cold for Master James!" Sprite argued, throwing a ball of socks at James's head.
"Sprite, can you please leave James alone and go fix breakfast?"
James looked back to the door, and there behind Wendy was his mother. She was young, and her face was illuminated by his window's light. She was beautiful.
"Hello, dear," she said, putting a hand on Wendy's shoulder, "How was your sleep?"
And before James could open his mouth, he saw him. The last to arrive in his bedroom, and the one that he had wanted to see all along.
A man with a strong chin and dark eyes was standing behind his mother, his glowing smile directed toward his son. His stomach was larger, due to the years of Sprite's cooking, and his hand was shoved into his right pocket as far as it could go, just as it always had been. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he beamed at his youngest child.
It was his father.
"I'm so proud of you, son," he said, and James couldn't find his voice to say anything back. So he just stared at his family, all standing in the door, smiling at him. They were alive.
This was his true family.
The one he had lost so long ago.
What he would give just to make it real. Just to make them come back to life and be with him once more.
"Come back home, James," Mum said, resting her head on Dad's broad shoulder, "We've missed you. Come back home ."
"This can all be yours," Dad said, "Just give them the boy."
James felt his hand reaching towards his father, wanting to feel his touch again. Wanting for him to hold him and hug him and never let go. He was home . . . He was . . .
And then another person entered behind Dad and Mum and Wendy. One that did not fit with the black hair of his parents. The red curls stood out from his family's and James squinted to see who it was.
Green eyes. The girl had green eyes.
Who was she?
"James!" she cried, and James blinked. It was Lily!
He had almost forgotten!
"James! No!" Lily said, rushing forward and past his family. She couldn't see them. They were ghosts.
"Lily . . ."
"No!" Dad shouted, "No! She means nothing to you!"
And Dad hit Lily. She crumpled on the floor, and fell silent.
James shot up out of his bed, and the bedroom dissolved back into Moody's house. Voldemort stood over Lily now, glaring down at her.
"STUPID GIRL!" he howled.
"LEAVE HER ALONE!" James shouted, with a new sort of strength. Voldemort's gaze shot to him, and his eyes narrowed.
"YOU!" he said, "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU ALL UNTIL THERE ISN'T ONE MORE POTTER ON THIS DAMNED ISLAND! I'LL KILL YOU!"
And he started for James, his wand raised. James braced himself. This was the end. He knew it.
"Say hello to your father for me," Voldemort snarled, and then stuck his wand between the boy's eyes, "He was a fool, just like you. Avada . . ."
"AVADA KEDAVERA!"
A green light shot through the back of Voldemort's cloak, and the Dark Lord winced. The light could not go all the way through his body, for it was too weak. Voldemort snapped around, and came to face to face with another man.
Sirius Black.
"So James was right. You are human," he laughed.
Voldemort, the back of his robes charred, spread his arms, and opened his mouth. A wind and sound like no other burst from his throat. Like a siren or a hurricane, it hit Sirius, and his hair was blown back out of his face. His feet left the ground, and he went flying out the door, down the corridor, and off of the second floor.
Down to the pile of jagged marble he went. He saw it coming closer and closer as he flew through the air.
His body hit the rubble with a thud, and his head richoched off of a pointed edge. The last thing he saw before growing limp was Moody, in the midst of the Death Eaters, fighting them off.
Then he closed his eyes.
And all was dark.
Voldemort stood there, for a moment, choking on something inside of him, before turning to James, and between intakes of breath, cursing him and Sirius.
"This is not the end, Potter," he gasped, the Avada Kedavera curse fighting inside of his chest, "This is not the end. The next time we meet, I will kill every one of you. I promise you that."
And then he was gone with the shadows of the night. James stared at where he was, and where his father had been.
He had heard the words from his father.
He was proud of him.
He was proud of his son.
Then he looked to Lily's crumpled body, still laying still and quiet on the floor. He had chosen her. He had chosen Harry.
He now knew what to do.
He had his answer.
"It's time to go home," he whispered to himself.
The reports would read that Gideon and Fabian died, surrounded by Antonin Dolohov and his Death Eaters. Dorcas Meadows was killed by Voldemort upon his entrance. Emmeline Vance and Sturgis Podmore were struck unconscious by a Lily Potter (who was under the Imperius Curse at the time). Lily Potter, after breaking her way free, was struck unconscious by Voldemort. Sirius Black received a blow to the head by Voldemort as well. And all Death Eaters involved were taken into custody. This included Dolohov.
Not long after Voldemort's flight, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order entered through the front door. Frank Longbottom was with them. It was the first time in months that he had shown his face.
When Lily was revived, she wouldn't speak to James about what had happened before her arrival in his bedroom. All she could say was, "I beat it. I beat the curse."
Gideon, Fabian, and Dorcas were all three lost that night, and they were taken away by the Ministry as soon as Crouch and Toddles arrived, along with Cornelius Fudge. The others were taken to St. Mungo's.
That is where James now sat, at the bedside of his best friend who had given his well being to save him from his fate. Sirius's head was bandaged, and he still hadn't woken up. James took his cold hand in his as he looked at his friend, who wasn't responding to him. He had gone up against Voldemort for him.
The Dark Lord.
He had defied the Dark Lord.
"Hey, mate," he said quietly, as if not to disturb him, "You're stupid, you know? Going in there for a stupid arrogant bully like me. I hope you know that."
The room was filled with Emmeline, Sturgis, Moody, Lily, and Sirius, all being checked on for any sort of injuries whatsoever. James had been given the okay, and now he was back into his regular clothes. Lily was talking to a Ministry official about the whereabouts of Remus and Harry, and they were assuring her that they were in good custody at the Ministry itself.
But Sirius wasn't awake. What if he gave his life because James hadn't gone into hiding earlier? God, he had been an idiot. Why had he done the things he had? He should be saving the family he had left, not mourning the one he had lost. Lily and Harry was all he had left. He hadn't seen that.
He had only seen his father. And the expression he wore when James had turned his back on the idea of joining the Order.
But now he saw that father of the night gone before. The father that was proud of him. There was something real about that father. Something that Voldemort couldn't have created. It was the authentic look of his father that he didn't remember clear enough for Voldemort to pull from him.
It was real.
And now he knew what to do.
"I'm so sorry, Sirius," he said, looking back at his still friend, "I'm so sorry."
And as James closed his eyes, a small mischevious smile curled onto the unconscoius man's face. Soon, laughter broke from his mouth, and James looked up.
"You little prat!" James said, hitting him, and Sirius howled with laughter as he opened his eyes to block James's blow.
"Well, you can't expect me to split open my head and not get any sympathy from no one, hey?" he said, and James hit him again.
"You had me scared, you git!" and Sirius chortled as James joined in the laughing. Lily and the Ministry official stopped talking and looked over to see what the commotion was. Moody also looked in their direction, but he paid no heed to James.
He only stared at Sirius.
The words of Dolohov's came back to haunt him.
"You treat him just like the rest. When he is to be your downfall. You trust him. You don't even give a second thought about him. And yet he is your worst enemy. Worse than I."
"So he let you live, huh?" Sirius asked, and James nodded.
"It would seem that way, wouldn't it."
The two friends sat there for a moment, as Sirius adjusted his covers, and then James said, "Sirius?"
"Yeah?"
"I've made up my mind," he said, "And I want to tell you first."
"Okay," Sirius said, "What is it? You picked out a new house?"
"No," James said, "I'm going into hiding."
Sirius's laughing ceased, and he became very solemn. He folded his hands, and gave a small smile.
"You are?"
"Yes, I am."
Sirius nodded, "Good," he said, and then with a second thought, repeated, "Good."
"I don't know where we'll go, but . . . we'll find somewhere," James assured him, and Sirius nodded again.
"And I'll be going into hiding, too," he said, "You saw what I did tonight. It'll just be a matter of time before . . . well, you know . . . before he's back for me."
"Are you scared, Sirius Black?" James asked, half jokingly.
"No, I'm not scared," Sirius said in all seriousness, "But I have to be alive for Harry, now don't I?"
With that last comment, neither one of them said another word.
Their minds were made up, and they all knew what their duties were.
"James."
James looked to the door leading to the waiting room, and there stood Frank Longbottom, helping Moody to the door. From what James could make out, Moody's nose was bandaged.
"The Headmaster requires that he speaks with you. Now," Frank said, solemnly, "We're leaving for Hogwarts."
James nodded, and then stood from Sirius's side.
It was time to do the right thing. The honorable thing.
James Potter had never had more pride.