March 1981
James zipped up the teal windbreaker. Beside him, Lily double-checked Harry's jacket, pulled his hood tighter on his head. "Well, have fun, you two," she said, handing Harry over.
James kissed her softly. "We will. And you," he glared at her in mock-anger, "I don't want to see a single dish done or a floor swept or a bit of dust dusted. Relax. Soak in the tub. Read a book."
She chuckled. "Okay. I promise not to touch a thing." She hugged them close.
"We'll be back in a few hours." He waved Harry's hand. "Bye-bye mommy," he said. "Bye-bye."
"Bye, sweety," Lily answered, kissing Harry on the cheek and smiling.
They left the warmth of the house and ventured out into the late winter, nearly spring, morning. The incessant rain had paused for a breather, leaving the wet world sparkling in the unfamiliar sun. Birds sang, flowers grew and James smiled down at Harry. He slipped the baby carrier onto his son and then onto his back.
"Let's go for a ride, shall we?" he asked, pulling his broomstick from its corner near the back door. Mounting, he zoomed off into the crisp day. Harry laughed in his ear, grabbing his head. They climbed higher and higher through the cool morning. James broke through the low clouds, finally high enough to avoid Muggle eyes. He slalomed and rolled back and forth through the blue sky and sun, Harry laughing at every dip, twist and turn. Oh, Harry! You're a natural! I can't wait to see you in action!"
He leveled off and leaned forward, gaining speed. Harry screeched with laughter. They pelted through the air, heading away from the sun, the wind biting into his cheeks, pulling tears from his eyes. For ten minutes they flew at top speed, James pushing and pushing for more speed. At last, he slowed. To fly forever, free. He sighed. "Going in for a landing, Harry," he called over his shoulder.
They dropped slowly through the cloud layer. Below them, the English countryside spread out in a patchwork of new green, lingering white, and mud brown. James dipped low through a wooded glen and slowed. Putting his feet down, he landed softly in the leaf litter below the trees.
"Alright Harry?" he asked. "Ready for a walk?" He hefted his broomstick and started slowly through the woods. If only such a day could last. James smiled and hummed to himself. They came to a gentle slope that led down into a wide gully. The wall opposite, rose steeply from the gully floor. James surveyed it. Well, we can't climb it but maybe we can walk along it, eh? He hitched Harry higher on his shoulders and started down into the gully.
As he descended, a faint CRACK shattered the silence. James stopped, looking around. Someone just apparated. The sound had echoed around the gully, coming from every direction. He swallowed hard.
"Da da da," Harry babbled in his ear. James pulled out his wand. "Silencio," he whispered, cutting off Harry's happy babbling. He mounted his broom and pushed off. He fell hard back to Earth, his knees buckling. They've jinxed my broom!
An icy chuckle echoed around him. James' heart leapt to his throat, threatening to pound its way to freedom. He looked around, seeing nothing. Damn! He dropped the broom. How could they have jinxed it! It didn't happen just now! I flew home from work early this morning! It was only on the porch for a couple hours. How could they know I was using it again today. I don't usually. The thoughts chased around his head as he started forward along the gully. Harry grew still on his back. James reached up and patted him slightly. When he turned, his eyes fell on a hooded Death Eater.
"Expelliarmus," the Death Eater hissed. James' wand flew from his hand and landed at the feet of the Death Eater. He stepped on it. "Now this looks familiar," he said. "Where have I seen this before?" James' heart stopped, his breath caught. The Death Eater removed his hood and tossed James an evil smirk before stooping and collecting his wand.
"Voldemort," James breathed. How did they know?!
"You know, that night, I really wanted Black, Potter. And you took him from me!!" James took a step back at the rage in the dark wizard's voice. Voldemort smiled again. He held up James' wand and snapped it in half. The two ends fizzled and died, puffing out pink and white clouds of smoke and a few half-hearted sparks.
MY WAND! James took another step back.
"Are you fighting me now?" Voldemort asked. He raised his own wand. "Fisticuffs? Or are you going to run?!" the last word dwindled to a hiss as Voldemort started for him. James took a few fleeting steps, then turned and ran.
Cold giggles trailed across his skin as he ran. "Potter!" the wind hissed in his ears. Don't panic! That's what they want. "Run, Potter, run," the wind hissed again. James looked behind him. Voldemort hadn't given chase. In fact, there were no Death Eaters behind him. He stopped. Mind games! The cold giggle trailed across his skin. He'd been running down the gully. Is it a trap? He traced the steep ridge with his eye; envisioning it swinging around and boxing off the gully, creating a dead end. My dead end.
I can't apparate without the wand! I'll squinch Harry for sure! The broom won't work! How did they know! He pulled Harry from his back. He was fussing and screaming, silenced by the last spell James had done.
A flash of red seared the air beside James, exploding on the ground a few feet from him. James whirled to face the source of the spell. A Death Eater waved at him from the top of the steep ridge. That was a warning shot. It's a trap for certain now. James stood, glared at the Death Eater and started down the gully again.
"It'll be okay, Harry," James whispered as he walked; a mantra against his own rising panic. My wand! My broom!
"Crucio!" the air breathed around him. The spell hit them from the side. James stumbled as the spell burrowed into his flesh, eating muscle and snapping bone. He screamed as he fell to his knees. Harry, had turned a faint shade of purple. His silenced mouth gaped in an unheard wail. He writhed and twisted in the carrier. Harry! They hit Harry! James' own pain vanished in an instant. He leapt to his feet, his aching muscles protesting.
"YOU HIT HARRY!" he bellowed, pulling his son close to his chest, trying to comfort him. The world blurred as his eyes filled with tears. Tears of anger, frustration, and pain. Shaking with rage, James ran down the gully.
He veered up the slope and another warning spell crashed to the ground before him. Skidding to a stop, he found the Death Eater that had fired it. The hooded figure waggled a finger at him. James turned back down into the gully. The Death Eater laughed behind him.
They hit Harry! James' whole body prickled with emotion: rage, fear, hatred; and beneath it, magic. He stopped and gathered the warmth around him. Then he flung himself forward, trying for distance from the Death Eaters, searching for a hiding place.
Before him, two trees had fallen across the gully. That'll do! He scrambled over them and threw himself to the ground on the other side. He kissed Harry's forehead. "I love you Harry. I have to do this, son." He pulled the gathered magic from his body and poured it into two spells. Harry went ridged in his carrier, then disappeared!
James felt the carrier. When he had his hands on it, his eyes could pick his disillusioned son out from the leaf litter background. With a sigh, James closed his eyes. Save Harry, save Harry. He gave himself over to the magic, letting it pull his human form away. His essence reformed. And Prongs knelt before the disillusioned Harry. The stag bent and picked up the package, ever so gently in his mouth. He then trotted off nonchalantly down the gully.
The gully ended in a wide, swampy hollow. A ring of Death Eaters stood there. They startled at the stag and it bolted off up the shallow slope, the only way out. They didn't follow the animal and Prongs slowed to a walk.
"Where is he?!" Voldemort shouted behind him.
"We didn't see anyone," one of the Death Eaters answered.
"What?!" Voldemort screamed, "POTTER!" Prongs bolted.
James stared down at the wand box in his hands. Dumbledore sat across from him. He had dismissed the portraits, for this meeting; something he rarely did. "Thank-you, Dumbledore," James began.
"What is it, James?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yesterday, I was attacked by Voldemort again. He wanted revenge for Christmas Eve."
"Yet, you sit before me," Dumbledore said with a smile. "That's twice you've faced Voldemort and walked away. I think you've caught up with Frank Longbottom. Frank has fought with Voldemort twice now too." James smiled at Dumbledore. But it soon faded.
"I can't shake the feeling that it was a deliberate trap. That somehow they knew I'd be using my broomstick that day. That I'd have Harry to worry about," James said with a heavy sigh. He met Dumbledore's eyes. The twinkle had disappeared. Dumbledore's eyes glinted like chipped sapphires before he looked away from James.
"James," he began, "It was a trap. My spy sat in on the meeting. Not hard, really. All the Death Eaters were in attendance. A note was passed from the back of the room; my spy didn't see who had passed it up. It detailed a certain lunchtime meeting you had last month; a meeting where you said that you would be taking Harry on an outing, flying even."
We were spied on? At the restaurant? James felt the world tilt around him. "But it was so crowded. How could they have heard us?" he asked aloud. Dumbledore sighed, "Oh James. This only confirms what I've been suspecting. One of our people is spying for Voldemort."
James shook his head. No. It can't be. It can't be! Dumbledore continued, "Not only is it one of our people, it looks like it's one of your friends." The words echoed through his head. My friends? Spying for Voldemort? Setting me up?!
"I won't believe it!" James roared, starting to his feet.
"I didn't want to believe it either," Dumbledore replied. He said no more; merely stared up at James until he returned to his seat. "I wouldn't have said anything if I wasn't sure." He chuckled, a laugh that held no laughter, "Which of course is why I didn't say anything sooner."
James looked away. "It can't be Sirius. It wouldn't be. Not ever," he hissed. I know it isn't him!
"Then that leaves Remus and Peter," Dumbledore said.
Peter? My number one fan? No. But it couldn't be Remus either! James shook his head. "Could one of us be passing information without knowing it?" he asked. It can't be any of us! Peter guarded our backs in July! Sirius is my best friend! Remus is . . . Tears stung as they gathered in James' eyes. What? What is Remus? He's a werewolf I've known as long as I can remember. He's uncle Remmie! But . . . James buried his head in his hands.
"The spy amongst us is deliberate. There is no accidental passing of information. If we've narrowed it down to the two of them, we can easily figure out who it is. Very proactive of me, in my opinion," Dumbledore said.
James winced when he looked up at Dumbledore. "You'll need me for this, right?" he asked.
The Headmaster nodded, "We'll start with Remus. He'll be delighted to join you for a private lunch. I'll give you some courier duties as an excuse. Mention to him that you will be going to your parents graves the first Saturday in May. Just to visit them."
"Then if Voldemort shows up," James started. He won't! He won't show up! It isn't Remus! But how could it be Peter?
"We'll know who the spy is. Whether Voldemort shows up or not. If he shows, it's Remus. If not, it's Peter," Dumbledore finished.