Author's Note: Yes I know it's been a while. Well one of the harder chapters for me to write, but here it is finally.
Chapter 13: The Parents
For all his fame, his various titles, and casual dates, James was not an expert of women by far. However, he did know that he had said some very cruel remarks to Lily. It had to be done, but he hated himself for having done it. James sighed – so much for his good intentions to invite Lily over to meet his parents. He thought the hard part would have been convincing his parents that his choice in girlfriend was a good one.
"So that's it then mate?" Sirius asked James as they finished packing for the winter hols.
"Yes," James replied, exasperated. "She's not changing her mind." He viciously crammed a dark green sweater into his trunk. "Can we drop this now?" James was getting tired of his friend's persistence. "I know you just want to torture her more over the holidays, but she's not coming and that's that!"
"How many times did you ask?" Sirius continued, unperturbed by James' irritation.
"Enough."
"What? One? Two? Ten? Twenty? This isn't the James I know to give up so easily," Sirius baited. "I haven't seen you often stop until you get what you want."
"Look." James glared at Sirius. "The first time I asked Lily it didn't go over so well, alright? I let her know she was welcome to change her mind at any time. And since," James growled, shoving another sweater into his trunk, "she's managed to avoid me since then, I'll assume she hasn't-"
A knock on the door interrupted him. Sirius shot James a smug grin. He opened the door, trying not to feel too hopeful.
A little boy, who could not be older than a first or second year, held a small present in his hand. Curled gold ribbons hung off the side of the carefully wrapped package. "Are you Mister James Potter?" the sandy-colored hair boy asked, sweat collecting on his brow as he fidgeted with his green and silver tie in nervousness.
"Yes – what do you want?" James asked, irritation in his tone as he eyed the boy with great dislike.
Sirius gave his mate a reprimanding look. It wasn't the little boy's fault that he wasn't Lily. James merely rolled his eyes.
"I was told to give this to you." He offered the package to James, who snatched it and shooed the boy away without even a 'thank you.'
"My, aren't you in a happy holiday spirit Prongs," Sirius teased him.
"Bugger off." The black haired wizard examined the present, looking at the tag.
From: L.
To: My Dearest James
James quickly opened it without thinking twice.
"Generally you wait until Christmas to open those," Sirius pointed out.
James ignored him, his curiosity getting the better of him. If Lily had wanted him to wait, she would have written so or sent it later.
A powerful looking gold ring with an onyx center lay in the white box. The jeweler was a fairly well known one in Britain.
Sirius gaped in awe. "Is that what I think it is?"
James frowned, not understanding why Sirius thought it was a big deal. "What?"
"Sir Kay's Jewelers only sells high quality rings with unique Charms." Sirius scrambled to grab the box, lifting the small pouch the ring had been held in.
"This particular onyx gem has been imbued with a powerful Fire Resistance Charm by Lady Danu," Sirius read aloud. "Wow, Lady Danu herself Charmed your ring. This is some gift James." He whistled in admiration.
"Fire resistance – how odd, but it is a handsome ring nonetheless," James agreed.
"Put it on, put it on!" Sirius urged.
James slid the ring onto his finger, feeling a sudden chill as the Charm took effect. The air shimmered around James and returned to normal in the blink of an eye.
"Guess Lily isn't as mad at you as you thought you big oaf!" Sirius clapped James on the back.
James hid a smile, pushing Sirius off his bed.
Sitting in the warm, cozy kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate, Lily closed her eyes. She cleared her mind of thoughts about her parents, Petunia, Persephone and of the distressing recent events that made her feel Voldemort's reach extended inside the very walls of Hogwarts.
Lily composed herself enough to reevaluate her relationship with James in a relatively calm manner.
Was it worth it? She was quite familiar with the prejudice in the Wizarding World, in Hogwarts, even in some her closest friends. The question was could she handle it from James' parents too – knowing that they would always consider her second class and never good enough for him. Lily knew that was only the beginning. She'd be scrutinized by the media constantly, be an even bigger target for Muggleborn haters, and wonder whether any one that wanted to be her friend had good intentions.
Another more important question was how long would the relationship last. What did James want from her exactly? Would he forget her when some prettier, wealthier, smarter girl came along?
A good part of her relationship would have to be done on faith on her part. She would have to give him a decent amount of trust if anything was to work. That would take courage. Lily heaved a great big sigh, wondering how the world had become so complicated so quickly.
An idea struck her…there was one way she could find out. It was more devious than anything she had done before and she risked losing James's trust, but the reward of knowledge tempted her.
James' eyes darted to the window of the carriage again, hoping that the list had been wrong - that she had changed her mind and was coming. He managed to corner her into the conversation about spending the holidays with him but Lily refused politely. She had 'other arrangements' she told him. And who was he to argue? He couldn't tell her that his house was safer – Death Eater attacks had been unnaturally subdued for the past month, and not to mention all of the Slytherins (whom he just knew had to be Death Eaters in training) were going home for the holidays. It looked to be a nicer Christmas than it had been in years, no blizzards or snowstorms so far – only light winter snow that dusted the treetops for a pretty romantic setting around the castle grounds. James had no good argument to convince her to spend the holidays with him.
His hazel eyes darted to the windowsill again.
"You know if you keep peeking out the window some might think you're desperate," Remus said with an amused smile.
"Not to mention the reporters will catch a glimpse of you," added Peter as he sat comfortably across from James, digging into yet another package of Chocolate Frogs. Cursing as it was not the Morgan Le Fay card he wanted he tossed the chocolate frog at Sirius, who gulped it down in a couple of bites.
"Oh yes, what an exciting headline that'll be – 'James Potter riding in a carriage!'" James exclaimed - his patience sorely tested with the media.
Sirius chuckled. "A more interesting title would have been 'James Potter interested in men?' After all, there are only boys in this ride along with your cat of course."
James ignored him and gave up his pretense that he was not interested in looking for Lily. "You don't think she'll change her mind at the last minute then?" he asked, clinging to a desperate hope.
"I don't claim to be an expert, but Lily doesn't seem to be the type to change her mind once she's made it. A bit like you in fact, mate" Sirius chimed in.
"You guys could act a little sad that she's not coming over for the hols," James grumbled, folding his arms across his chest in a childlike manner. Demmez lay sleeping next to him, wrapped in his warm wool scarf. He wondered briefly what the house elves would make of the orange hair on his scarf or the cat for that matter.
"Oh please," Peter said, rolling his eyes. "Between the two choices of you ignoring us for the entire holiday for a bird no less, or moping around for the holidays over said bird, you can't expect us to be thrilled."
James' eyes flashed with annoyance. "I would not act like that!"
Remus elbowed Sirius and whispered conspiratorially, intending for James to overhear. "Merlin, you'd think he was the girl."
Sirius nodded in agreement. "So melodramatic."
James gave his mates irritated glares and turned to his cat. "You're with me aren't you, love?"
Demmez opened an eye, meowed, and went promptly back to sleep.
Peter, Sirius, and Remus laughed as the coach began to move, while James adopted a grumpy frown on his face.
"Are you ready Master James?" The hired help of the Potter mansion turned to the only child of the elder Potters. Moving to pick up James' bags, he walked with a prim and proper air about him. His back held straight even though his salt and pepper hair had become more salt as of late.
James stiffened at the formal address, not accustomed to it after being away from home for a few months. He stopped the elderly butler from picking up his bags lightened by a Charm. "Not this time Wilfred. Thank you though." Grabbing his bags swiftly, he followed Wilfred to apparate to the extravagant car his parents insisted he take back to the mansion. For all their disdain of Muggles, they enjoyed flaunting their wealth to Muggles and Wizards alike, and what better way to show it than an unnecessary, expensive limousine.
The old butler was surprised at James' attitude – grateful yes, but more surprised. The young man had never given a thought to anyone but himself usually. "Anything wrong, Master James?"
Having been lost in his thoughts, James gave him a startled smile. "Oh nothing really. I was just…thinking of a good friend," he said carefully picking his words. He didn't doubt the clever old man would report anything amiss to his parents. "Thanks for your concern though, Wilfred."
The drive to the Potter mansion was relatively peaceful, except for the last stretch before the gates where the usual horde of girls waited for him. Didn't they have anything else to do? James felt rather uncomfortable as girls pressed themselves against the windows. He knew they couldn't get even a glance at him, but that didn't stop them from trying. One particularly bold girl showed her phone number written across skin that any decent girl would have covered twice over.
Demmez was stiff in James' lap. Her ears flattened back as she hissed at the girls, who were trying to claw each other for a better position. Didn't they realize they couldn't see through the dark tinted windows?
James chuckled as he reassured Demmez with gentle strokes. "You'd think they were the cats wouldn't you, love?"
Demmez swiped at him, careful to keep her claws retracted, hitting his cheek.
James put his hands in the air in a mock surrender. "No offense intended! Don't hurt me," he laughed.
She responded to his submission by rubbing her body against him in an affectionate purr. James forgot all about the women outside as they arrived home, if a very large mansion surrounded by gardens, tropical and magical trees, could be called a 'home.'
Instead of customarily waiting for Wilfred to open his door, James hurried out of the car, Demmez in tow, knowing full well the house elves would see to his luggage.
Mounting the steps three at a time he barge through the Gothic style arched doors leading to the waiting room. Setting the orange kitten down he urged her to explore. "I'll find you in a bit, just have some fun for now."
Seeing Demmez hesitatingly sniff around, James left to find his parents. What he found though, was not only his parents, but yet another unwanted…situation.
Spotting a blonde woman and her daughter, James knew it was another set up. He tried to walk backward unnoticed, but his mother caught sight of him slinking away.
"Oh darling, what coincidental timing," Evelyn gushed.
He barely managed to refrain from rolling his eyes. There was very little that was coincidence in his house. Gritting his teeth at the unpleasant task before him, James gave his mother a terse smile. "How lovely you look Mother," he said, walking over to plant a kiss on her outstretched hand.
"Oh come now. I'd like you to meet Mademoiselle Claire and her mother. They're descended from the old French royalty," she added with a wink.
"How fascinating!" James said with sarcastic enthusiasm. "So was it your ancestor that was running away from the angry French peasants only to be beheaded later, or am I mistaken?"
"That would be the one," exclaimed Claire's mother, not understanding James sarcasm. "You know your history!"
Claire, on the other hand, recognized the insult for what it was. She retorted with sarcasm of her own. "My my, what a riot you are. You must be the comedian of the school." She flashed a disarming pearly white smile. If not for the words, her tone could be almost mistaken for sweet.
James glanced at her; she earned one point for not being the clueless idiot his parents usually introduced, but she had a long way to go before getting any where near his good side.
"Well now that we're all acquainted, let's have some dinner then shall we?" James' father interjected before the awkward conversation could stretch on.
As dinner droned on, James found himself wishing he were any place but his current location. Even Professor Slughorn's potions class was beginning to seem appealing. Madame Deveaux, as she preferred to be called, rambled on incessantly about her daughter's virtues. James wondered if her daughter was a person or a product.
"She is the most delightful student," Madame Deveaux insisted in a slight French accent.
Claire, seated across the table from James, sighed. She hated being showcased and presented as if she were some future trophy wife – which no doubt she would be if her mother had her way. Just because they were left penniless by her father, didn't mean they needed to find a rich husband for her.
Her mother continued despite the obvious boredom of everyone at the table except for Evelyn. "And all the boys, Dieu, how they try to win her affections!" She gave a silly laugh, as if what she said was the most amusing thing in the world.
Wondering what James made of all this, Claire spared him a glance. He cheekily raised a glass at her. Why the insufferable prick – as if she wanted to be here in the first place! She felt herself turn pink with anger before she managed to calm herself – she was a lady after all.
As Claire toyed with a small piece of dessert – a very lovely raspberry cheesecake – James excused himself from the dinner table. Finally! The horrid night was drawing to a close. At least, that's what she thought until Mrs. Potter interrupted her inward celebration.
"Oh Claire, darling. Would you be a love and check on James please?" The conniving bat dared to add insult to injury by giving her a not-so-secret wink.
Claire crumpled her napkin in disgust, but offered a cheery radiant smile as she tossed the napkin onto the table harder than etiquette dictated. "Of course Madame Potter."
"Oh please, call me Evelyn," the extravagantly dressed woman insisted.
The blonde French girl curtsied before leaving the room. "As you wish." Sparing Evelyn a last glimpse, Claire wondered how Monsieur Potter ever married her. Decked in pearls, jewels, and silks, it was such a disgusting display of her wealth. While her family barely managed to feed themselves, this woman insisted on rubbing everyone else's nose, intentionally or not, in their less fortunate situations. No wonder James was such a pig. If she ever did marry one day, Claire hoped it would be to someone that she loved and respected, regardless of his monetary worth, although money never hurt.
She found James apparently talking to himself on one of the marble balconies framed by looming gargoyle statues.
"Why must mum do this every bloody time!" James exclaimed, frustrated.
Claire watched him as he picked up a ball of orange fuzz. Well it was a small step up from talking to himself.
"So it looks like you're just fine," Claire said, amused at his surprise at being caught talking to a cat. Did he forget that he had guests? How careless of him. "I will report the astounding findings to your mother." Her French accent crept into her words as she failed to curb her anger with him.
"Well the next time you feel inclined to invade my privacy please control your nosy urges," James told her, unhappy that she was here, even after he had suffered through her company for the past few hours.
Claire huffed, never having been so insulted by a supposedly well-bred man. "Why you…" She marched up to him, angry as a scorned Veela. "What makes you think you're so superior to me? The way you act, the way you treat people – it's disgusting! At least I have manners, common sense, and pride of what I am – who I am!" Her words were rushed as she struggled to contain her justified anger.
James indulged his curiosity. "What do you mean? I have pride, too much if you ask my friends. And I treat people, who matter," he emphasize the word indicating he didn't think she was one who did matter, "with respect."
"Please. I've seen pictures of you with mudbloods, that one redhead in particular." Claire shuddered upon remembering, while James bristled at the very offensive word and her casual use of it. "People who matter!" she said with incredulity. "I think you have lost all sense of good breeding. If you consider a mudblood someone that matters, I feel sorry for you. If anything, I'm too good for you." She stamped her heel for emphasis and fled the room, her simple but elegant pink chiffon gown rustling as she left. Demmez hissed at her back.
James was shocked at her vehement tone and ugly words. Then again, it was just like his mum, or his stepmum rather, to pick someone like her – concerned about blood purity over character. Determined to rectify the situation, he went to find his parents. There was only so much he could take.
His mother was sipping expensive white wine, no doubt the best France had to offer. She smiled indulgently at him.
"Darling, how did you like Claire?" She continued, not letting him answer the question. "She was absolutely fabulous wasn't she?"
"Horrid little-"
"James!" his mother admonished him, her bubbly disposition gone instantly. "Really now."
James gave her a stern look. "Why are you doing this, mum?"
"Doing what exactly? Being a good parent and looking out for your best interests?" She crossed her legs, daintily slipping off her high heels. "Why can't you just date a nice girl? There isn't a shortage of them who would love to be seen with you," she pointed out.
"That's just it! They couldn't give a damn who I am. They care about how much I own, my bloodline! I'm bloody-"
"James!" His father came in the room and immediately went to his wife. His son was not going to use that tone with Evelyn. "That's enough-"
"No!" James cut in. "I'm not done. I'm damn tired of being your little heir. I don't want any of your charity, your money if it means I have to marry someone I hate. Doesn't my happiness, what I want mean anything to you?" he cried, hoping they would understand. "For God's sake-"
Evelyn gasped. "A Muggle expression? This is exactly what I was afraid of," she said to Harold. Then turning to James she said firmly. "That's it. You've obviously been spending too much time in the presence of those beneath you. Mudbloods."
James laughed. Scathing words escaped his lips, as their blatant disrespect of who Lily was fueled his anger. "Those 'beneath' me? What a load of crap! I have friends that actually care about me! I wouldn't trade them for the likes of those you deem worthy – like the Notts or even the Malfoys."
Harold stood in protest. "We never-"
"Oh yes I know, you wouldn't associate with them because of their particular affinity for the Dark Arts. But yes, those type of people – with money, Pureblood – that's all that matters to you. My friends will still be around even if I didn't have a shilling to my name. I can't say the same for your 'friends.'" James was blazing with passion for his beliefs – what he felt to be right. "You make me sick," he spat. "All your stupid notions of who is worthy and who is not. I'll not marry someone like dear old Evelyn here. You know I've always wondered how 'coincidental' it was you two just 'happened' to meet up again after dad became rich."
Evelyn gasped.
"That's enough James!" Harold bellowed. Even if his son's words held the possibility of truth, he would not hear accusations against his beloved wife. She had comforted after the death of his first wife – James' mother – and been there when he needed a wife and James needed a mother. He couldn't ask for more from her. So what if she enjoyed spending heaps of money. Everyone had their quirks. She cared about James just as much as he did, and that was what was important to him.
James sneered at his stepmother. "I wonder if you would still be here if Dad went broke."
Before his parents had a chance to berate him, James stormed out, slamming the door behind him just as Madame Deveaux gaped in shock behind him, having returned to talk to the Potters about an engagement.
Madame Deveaux crept into the room, as if she was afraid of interrupting a private moment. "My, what a lively spirit the boy has," she offered to smooth the situation over. She looked quite ruffled from her brief encounter with James.
Harold wore a troubled look but cast her a small smile as if he were placating a child who had said the wrong thing with good intentions.
No one said anything for few moments. The French woman was afraid of saying something improper, while the Potters were deep in thought about their son's outburst.
Finally, her original intentions caused Madame Deveaux to press further. "So about the engagement between our children." She smoothed back a wiry strand of an unnatural shade of blonde hair. It looked as if it had been bleached and Charmed one too many times. Beads of sweat gathered on her forehead, which was lightly lined with wrinkles. She dabbed at the incriminating evidence of her nervousness with a small handkerchief.
Harold turned his attention to her, having made a decision. His wife cast him a wary glance – she knew what that look meant. "I'm sorry Madame Deveaux, but we are no longer interested in making an arrangement," he said, not unkindly. His brown eyes shone with a sincere apology.
Insulted, the French woman 'hmphed' at him, and snatched her things. A simple apology would not compensate for the insult to her pride.
The older wizard stood up as a proper gentleman should, as she left the room.
"Really now, was that completely necessary?" Evelyn chided her husband, unhappy with his decision.
Harold looked over his glasses at her, giving her a 'what do you think?' look. "What is more important to you – image or our son?"
Evelyn made an offhand remark – "Naturally, he's more your son than anything else."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" He knew Evelyn loved James, but her ingrained tendency to care too much about high society and what everyone else thought often caused her to overlook the more important things.
"You saw his atrocious behavior!" She gestured wildly, upset with the previous display that she felt only someone of lower class would exhibit. "In my day no proper, respectable gentleman would ever raise his voice at a lady nor lose control of his emotions. He's too free-spirited!" Evelyn argued. She wanted what was best for their family – couldn't he understand that? "The boy needs discipline. We mustn't capitulate because he has a temper tantrum!" She continued to rant, venting her frustrations from the humiliation she suffered because of James. One example was at the prestigious Highwater party only a short while ago. Someone had said in a snotty voice, intending for her to overhear – "Oh isn't she the mother of the boy that's been romping around with Mudbloods in the tabloids?"
She was close to tears when Harold interrupted. "Do you think he has even a small point?" When his wife sniffed and shook her head to disagree, he continued. "We keep pushing him to do what we think is best for him-"
"-As it should be," she commented.
Harold continued, unfazed. "But what if the price of his unhappiness is too much to pay for this 'image' you cherish so much. I've indulged your fancies for quite some time now my dear. But I don't feel we should force James to marry someone he has no desire to, regardless of whether or not we feel it is in his best interest."
Evelyn waved off the notion with her hand. "He's too young to know what he wants."
Harold smiled in amusement. "You've been saying that for the past three years, dear."
She faltered a little. "Well – it's still true."
"Would it really be so terrible to let our," he emphasized the word, "son decide what he wants?"
The dark haired witch gasped. Her hand flew to cover her gaping mouth. "Blasphemy. I know you've seen the news too, Harry." She used his name lovingly despite her shock. "Lila Evils or some rubbish – she's not even Half Blood!"
Harold looked troubled now. Frowning, he reasoned with her (and himself). He approached the topic slowly and with much caution. This was new territory for both of them. They had descended from generations of Pureblood wizards and witches who would have never even listened to a notion of dating a non-Pureblood, let alone anything further. "I admit I'm not happy with it either…but I am willing to give her a chance if James is truly serious about dating her. Mind you, it's not an engagement, but if nothing comes of it, James might be willing to be more open to our suggestions."
Evelyn gave him a genuine smile. "I knew there was a reason I married you."
Harold scooted over to her on the couch, placing one arm around her slim shoulders. He quirked an eyebrow, much like James did when he was about to get himself into trouble. "Oh? You mean you didn't marry me for my money or dashing good looks?"
The next thing he knew, he was bound and gagged with a wand pointed at him by his wife. She tucked her wand back into her robe. She gave him a smug smile. "That'll teach you, you cheeky dolt."