A/N: As promised, a new chapter very quickly. In this, I had to find middle names for a few people. Cookies to everyone who gets the significance of Draco and Severus's and thank you for the reviews.
The next morning found James, prompted by their talk the previous evening, up in Albus' office struggling with a piece of parchment.
"Are you sure you need to do this?" Albus asked from where he sat at his desk writing letters to various important personages. James sighed.
"It was okay before because I didn't have anything to lose. Now I feel I should write a will so that Alistair and little Harry and Severus get what they should if I die. The problem is that I don't know where to start."
"Write down a list of everything you own and then start allocating it."
"The problem is that I don't even know half of what I own."
"Oh, how about thinking about it in terms of Alistair and Harry."
James thought for a moment.
"Tell me, is it possible to adopt someone into a family and have them join the bloodline, as it were."
"Yes, it's the most complete form of an adoption," Albus said, not sounding too surprised. "It's called a blood adoption, generally and all it would require is a vial of blood from you and your signature on some documents."
James nodded, turned his quill to parchment, thanking the gods that there was no particular legal language that was needed, just a clear statement, although it was generally expected that you use relatively formal language. It was a very weird feeling to be writing to people who would only read it after your death.
The will of Harry James Evans Potter, Defence Master at Hogwarts School.
First, I would like to make clear that my death was likely no fault of anybody's. I put my life at risk in the hope of making a difference to other people and any guilt can fall only on my own shoulders.
To my godson, Henry Severus Malfoy, I offer a blood adoption into the family of Slytherin as my son and the inheritance of those properties that fall under the Slytherin inheritance in addition to those he will receive from the Malfoy line. These include those previously owned by the Black family that came into my hands upon the death of my own godfather, Sirius Orion Black. To take my place as godparent, I name Ronald Bilius Weasley, given the acceptance of Draco Cassius Malfoy and Blaise Genevieve Malfoy.
To my ward, Alistair Cai Macdonald, I offer a blood adoption into the family of Gryffindor as my son and the inheritance of those properties that fall under the Gryffindor inheritance. These include all those that came to me as part of the Potter inheritance. His guardianship I leave in the hands of Severus Melchior Snape and the aforementioned Draco Cassius Malfoy.
To Draco Cassius Mafloy, Aberforth Stephen Lyle Cuthbert Dumbledore and Bertram Everard Highcastle I leave any photographs and personal effects dating to my time at the University.
To Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jane Weasley I leave any personal effects and photographs dating from my time as a student Hogwarts.
To my partner, Severus Melchior Snape I leave my deep love and all of my remaining belongings, including the potions ingredients that are stored in the student's quarters in Aberforth Dumbledore's rooms at Griffin University.
I leave you now with some words that a wise teacher and friend once told me when I was a child. 'To the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure.' From an early age, adventures have sought me out and now I have begun a new one on which I cannot be accompanied. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, so move on and do not grieve overmuch for me.
James read it through and signed it with a sprawling script. Then he allowed the drop of blood to fall onto it and it vanished to wherever the wills of the magical populace were stored in the Ministry. Surprisingly, he felt better about what he was going to have to do, knowing that whatever happened, his belongings and wealth would go to good homes.
"All done, James?" Albus asked.
"Yes, thank you. I'd better go and talk to Alistair now, let him know that I'm about to embark on another mad scheme that could get me killed."
"You're more resilient than that, dear boy, I have every confidence in you."
James smiled and sent a house elf to ask Alistair to meet him in his rooms. The boy was there when he arrived, looking confused and uncomfortable. They hadn't originally intended to have one of their 'family time' meetings that weekend because of the Order meeting and he was slightly apprehensive as to whether he was in trouble for something. Like most of the Slytherins, he had a guilty conscience. Most of his misdeeds were mild but he could think of no other reason.
"Morning Alistair," James said cheerfully as he came in. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble."
"There's not anything wrong with Professor Snape is there? Or you having to go away?"
"Well, do you know what the Order of the Phoenix is?" James asked. Alistair was Muggleborn, it was entirely possible that he didn't, despite spending Christmas with them.
"I think so, they fight against dark wizards, don't they? Professor Dumbledore's in charge and I think a lot of the teachers here are in it."
"That's right. I'm one of them and I've been asked to lead the defence of a village in the next attack. We don't know when exactly it's going to be but I didn't want you to be surprised when I vanished."
"But you might get hurt, mightn't you?"
"Yes but it's very unlikely. In the unlikely event that I get killed, I've asked Professor Snape and Mr Malfoy to be your guardians, unless you have any objections to that."
"No James," he said miserably. James lifted his chin.
"Don't worry," he said smiling, "I really don't intend to even get scratched."
It was during a third year class on Tuesday morning when the tiny Order pin that he wore on the inside of his robes glowed warm for a few minutes to summon him to the battle. He had been waiting for the past week, wearing his tight black shirt and leggings underneath his normal teaching robes, his Order battle robes shrunk and carefully stored in his pocket and his favourite daggers strapped firmly in place, ready for use.
His wand hidden under his desk, James cast a quick glamour on his face to make it appear sickly pale and swayed a couple of times. A few of the students looked concerned.
"It appears that I may need to go and see Madam Pomfrey," he said quietly. "Finish the questions I set you in the library and hopefully I'll be back for your next lesson. Class dismissed."
As soon as they had gone, he cancelled the glamour and went through to the small prep room at the back of the classroom. He quickly stripped and put on his Order robes, carefully saved from his teenage years. Similar to those of a standard Order member, they had crimson sleeves and a crimson sash over the white body. He removed the charm concealing his cropped hair and fitted his mask to his face, twirling his wand in his hand.
"Fawkes!" he called, touching the Order pin. There was a burst of flames and the phoenix appeared. Stuck within the wards, he couldn't afford the time it would take to go to Apparate. "I need a lift."
James took hold of the tail feathers and felt the familiar warmth as they were teleported through space to the battle site.
The rest of the squadron were there, waiting for him, harsh and unfamiliar in their crisp white robes, wands drawn, standing tensely in the prearranged place. Around them, James could hear the noise and shouting of a battle in progress, the hiss of Dark curses in the air. Strangely, he felt comfortable, at home, the adrenaline pumping into his blood. He was in his element here.
As they appeared, half a dozen wands were pointed at him, quickly dropped. A few of the others swallowed choked tears and exclamations, looking at him in Harry's style of robe, with Harry's hair, Harry's style of movement on a man who seemed practically a stranger to them.
"Thank you, Fawkes," James said, then turned his attention to his fighters, his small command to give them the instructions that they knew but he needed to say to reassure himself that he'd done all that he could to keep them safe. "Stay together, don't take unacceptable risks. You all have a few portkeys, give them to any wounded victims. Should you be wounded yourselves and your movement hampered, activate your emergency portkey immediately, I refuse to risk anyone needlessly and fighting with a gaping wound is dangerous and foolish. Ron, Hermione, you're in charge of driving away any dementors, should there be any, since you two have the strongest Patronus. Bill, if possible, take out the vampires. Hestia, you're with him, take up a position on the fringe on the fighting. The rest of you, stay with me as far as possible. Good luck, everyone, let Merlin's power be with you."
With that, James led them around the house into the fray. As Albus had predicted, a number of people were desperately fighting the twenty or so death eaters that had appeared. They were being forced back, beaten down, but the battle was clearly not going as well for the death eaters as Lucius Malfoy would have liked.
James flung himself into the battle, aware of Ron and Hermione automatically taking positions on either of his shoulders as he cut into the Death Eater lines, the others behind them in an arrow formation. Bill and Hestia taking up a position towards the edge of the fray and sending more complex charms at the small vampire contingent surrounding what was presumably the leader of the attack. They cast only the so-called light curses to disable their adversaries, after all, they weren't death eaters, but it was as effective.
As they made their presence known, James heard a woman shout.
"It's Harry Potter! He's come back to save us!"
He smiled grimly, reflecting on the truth in that and pressed grimly on.
James paused, dropped a handkerchief onto a young man's chest as he lay unconscious on the ground.
"Safe Haven," he whispered, the portkey activated and the wounded man vanished. A death eater closed to his left.
"Petrificus Totalus!" he shouted and the man dropped. They were approaching the vampires now.
The dark creatures, startled perhaps by the ferocity of the counter attack by such highly trained forces. James felt a sharp twang in his left arm and in response sent a dagger flying at the death eater behind him, throwing with frightening accuracy.
"Lumos Solarium!" he shouted and those in front of him cried out, blinded and some burnt by the light that radiated from his wand.
"Incendio!" Hermione cast from behind him.
Bill and Hestia finally got their main curse going and a golden net settled around the vampires: one by one they vanished, apparating to safety, leaving their leader behind. He knew all to well what would happen to him if he failed his master and was determined to try and salvage what he could.
"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, seeing them approach. James ducked and it passed harmlessly over his head. Good, he wouldn't have the energy to cast that again for a while. The Death Eater was getting more and more frantic. "Protego!" he shouted, perhaps hoping that it would give him time to escape.
"Stupefy," James said, voice icy, charm cutting straight through the flimsy shield and knocking him to the ground.
He paused, looked around. Ron and Hermione were still with him, faithful and reliable as ever. Bill and Hestia were likewise still in their position. Neville was going around the wounded, giving them portkeys to the Hogwarts infirmary. Around the edge of the green, the Aurors were Apparating with the mediwizards with them. Fleur was nowhere in sight.
"Horus!" he shouted, codenames as ever in front of the Aurors, though most of them knew or guessed from their appearance who they were despite the nominal hoods they wore. Bill looked up. "Where's Fleur?"
"Wounded, at Hogwarts," came the prompt reply. Nothing serious then, Bill had no doubt been keeping a close eye on his wife.
James sighed, relieved and turned to his companions.
"We're done here, I think," he said, taking into account the calmness in the disorderly field. A hand signal later, Hestia and Bill had vanished. James and the Weasleys went over to Neville who took his hand in a firm shake.
"Well fought," Neville said, a self-satisfied look on his face, "Commander."
"You too," James said, acknowledging the other man's skills. This was more than acceptance, this was formal recognition of his status in the Order, very reassuring to have. "The battle's over, the Aurors can take it from here. Are you wounded?"
"A couple of cuts, Ginny can help me with them. I'll not bother Madam Pomfrey."
"Go on then," James said, watching him Apparate. He turned to his friends. "You too, unless you need the Infirmary. I'll see you soon, I'm sure."
Hermione hugged him. When they too had gone, James summoned his knives back to him, activated his portkey and returned to Hogwarts, his home. The battle had lasted forty exhausting minutes, shorter than many. Most of the Death Eaters had seemed to be fresh recruits, being blooded in what had been supposed to be an easy fight.
The hospital wing was full when he returned, any headachy students hastily moved back to their own dormitories as the beds were taken up by dirty, blood-covered men and women with gaping wounds in legs and arms, delirious from a curse to the head, drained partly by a vampire. Around them, Poppy Pomfrey, Albus, Minerva and a few seventh year assistants. Severus was absent, presumably hastily brewing the necessary potions that they were about to run out of.
Fleur was in a bed by the door, her leg bandaged but otherwise unhurt. James hurried over, mask still in place. She was under his command, therefore it was his responsibility to check on her.
"Are you okay?" he asked. She seemed a little surprised to see him.
"Yes, thank you, just my leg and that will be healed by morning. The others?"
"All fine. Neville had a few cuts which he'll sort himself, the others uninjured."
"Bill?"
"He saw you leave but didn't seem overly concerned, so I imagine he knew your wound wasn't bad. If he doesn't turn up soon, he'll be waiting for you at home. I'll send him a message to tell him how you are. You fought well today, you got the one who hit you."
She flushed a little at the praise, quickly turning the subject off herself,
"Are you wounded?"
"A few cuts. I'll get a salve for them off Severus. Should you need me, just call."
James smiled and left, nodding to the other Order members as he went. A few of the conscious patients looked at him in wonder, trying to work out how their boy hero had returned from the dead and whether it was indeed him. The mask stayed firmly on.
He made his way down to his own quarters, removed the mask and slowly stripped off the stained, sweaty robes, unstrapping his sheaths. He wet a cloth in the bathroom and carefully cleaned the cut on his arm, making sure there was no dirt before tightly bandaging it. It would wait. He cast a cleaning charm on himself, took a long drink of water and put on a fresh robe and went to see if he could help Severus with anything. There was always chaos after a large battle, as the castle's supplies and staff were stretched to their limits. Even something like preparing potions ingredients would be making a difference.