James Potter strolled through the hall of Hogwarts, still in disbelief that he had been made Head Boy. Dumbledore must be losing it, he thought to himself, as he walked away from Charms class.
James's best friend, Sirius came dashing along, and bumped into his shoulder, Sirius hadn't taken Charms, and it was the only class they didn't have in common.
"Hey Sirius, plans still on for tonight?" James asked quietly.
"You know it, full moon." Sirius replied, grinning.
Sirius and James started to talk in silenced tones about their plans for the upcoming night, but they where suddenly interrupted by a voice behind them.
"Potter!" James turned around and saw McGonagall running to catch up with him.
James instantly thought of an excuse to whatever McGonagall had caught him doing, or discovered him doing, but before he could even open his mouth, McGonagall said: "Come with me, move along, Black."
McGonagall and James walked to her office in silence. She seemed unusually calm, James thought.
They walked in and the door closed automatically behind them.
"Potter, I have some bad news." McGonagall said, looking grave.
"What?" James asked.
"I received an owl from your mother, and she says that your father has taken a turn for the worst." McGonagall said quickly, as though that would lessen the shock.
James's mouth gaped open, his father had become ill over the summer, but all the healers at St. Mungo's were sure that he would make a quick recovery, and had assured both James and his mother that his father was fine and there was nothing to worry about.
"I just spoke with Professor Dumbledore, and he has given me permission to allow you to return home, that is if you wish to." She finished.
"Yes, I do." James replied quietly.
James Potter sat fidgeting on the couch in his family's drawing room. He had arrived back home no less than an hour, upon going back to the Gryffindor common room, explaining the situation to Sirius, Remus, and Peter, and had coming back home through the floo network, and finding his house unusually quiet, cold and somber.
It was odd thinking of his father as a sick old man. He was a very good and competent wizard, albeit older. He worked for the Ministry of Magic, and was one of their best employees. He never thought of his parents as old, he never did.
Grace Potter entered the room. "James, he's awake, he wants to see you."
His mother looked weary and tired, and much older than James could ever recall she looked.
"Okay, mum." He said quietly.
"I'll just be in the kitchen." Grace said quietly. "He wanted to talk to you alone."
James walked down the hallway where his father lay. Sick, pale, and looking like a skeleton.
"Dad," James said more out of surprise, of seeing his powerful father looking so sick, so lifeless.
"James." John Potter looked up and beamed, or what could be the closest to beaming in his weakened condition.
John looked at James for a moment, and James saw something he never saw before. A tear, his father was crying.
"Dad, what's wrong?" James asked, as he sat down on a chair beside the bed.
"James, I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry." John replied, now more tears coming out of his eyes.
"For what?" James replied, his mind was now racing, he had never seen his father crying, or looking so regretful.
"For never telling you the truth." John said.
"Truth?" James asked, confused. "The truth about what?"
"The truth about Eliza." John said wearily.
Eliza? Who was Eliza? He had never heard of anyone by that name before. "Who's Eliza, Dad?" James asked, perhaps a little more forcefully than he should have.
"My daughter, James. And your real mother."
James's world began spinning, this had to be some crazy dream, his powerful father wasn't lying before, sick and weak, telling him that he was adopted. He was just fast asleep in bed at Hogwarts, that was it. He pinched himself, but nothing changed, the weak man he believed to be his father was laying in front of him.
"James, Grace and I are actually your grandparents." John let out, with an intense look of remorse on his face.
This couldn't be happening. His parents had him late in life, that's all. There was nothing wrong with that. It wasn't that unusual. His parents would never keep such a secret from him. Never.
"James, I am telling the truth. I've wanted to tell you for so long, but Grace didn't think you should hear it. You have to believe me." John pleaded.
"I'm listening." James replied quietly, looking up at his father, who now had a look of desperation in his eyes.
"Eliza was our daughter, James, but she never showed any initiative, she was a rather lazy girl, I suppose Grace and I did spoil her, never really making her do anything productive."
"We where worried about what kind of future she would have. When she was accepted into Hogwarts, we where happy, Grace and I did worry that she was a squib for awhile. And we received an owl telling us that she had been sorted into-" He let out a sigh. "Slytherin."
James sat at the chair, expressionless. Slytherin rang a bell in his mind, but that didn't matter right now. The Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry didn't matter, his intense dislike of Slytherin's, particularly Snape didn't matter at all.
John continued on. "I was surprised, considering Grace and I where both Gryffindor's, but Eliza didn't surprise me. She kept on doing the most minimal job she could, she never did well in school, not like you, she passed her classes with B's and C's. She had no favorite classes, nothing she was really better at."
"I don't know about her friends, she did have some. But, she became much happier when she got a boyfriend." John paused, looking particularly venomous. "She received E's and A's on her OWL's, and with my connections, I got her a job at the Ministry. She did a little better than I thought she would, until her boyfriend took off." John paused, and he looked very dark. James thought.
John continued on. "She then became depressed, and she did nothing. Her performance at the Ministry was terrible, and then she was fired. She would stay in this house, moping around. Grace kept trying to make her feel better, and I tried, but she just wouldn't listen. I lost my patience with her, and told her to make something of her life." John then looked so unbelievably sad at the moment, James couldn't believe it.
"She took off. She vanished without a trace, and we didn't hear from her at all. I looked into it, and the last place she was seen was in the Leaky Cauldron, had become drunk off of Firewhiskey, walked out the door and nobody had seen her since."
"Grace was very crushed and very worried, I put out a call for information, but nothing came, there was an investigation by the Ministry, and they assumed she was dead and that she had committed suicide. I didn't buy that, nor did Grace, we hoped that she would contact us again one day."
"That day would come, ten years later." She showed up at this house, in the middle of the night, nine months pregnant, tired, and weak."
"We where overjoyed." John paused. He looked like he was going to be sick. He looked flushed and very sad, and somehow angry at the same time. James, had been listening to every word he said, clinging to it, listening to what he was saying, even though James didn't want to believe a word of it, he believed everything he said.
"About an hour later she went into labor, and she gave birth to you. She died less than hour later. Your mother said she probably hadn't eaten in days, had been traveling a long ways, and looked rather scared."
"We had been out of touch with our friends for a little while, Grace saying she wasn't feeling well, so we said that she was pregnant with you all along." John added as though this changed everything, the shock James was feeling, how James realized his entire life was a lie, his parents where really his grandparents, his real mother had died giving birth to him, all these thoughts swam flew through his head like a swarm of bees.
"We buried Eliza in the family plot at Godric's Hollow. We put a memorial there for her years earlier because we where encouraged to move on. We did it more for those concerned about us. The only people present at her burial where myself, Grace, the grave keeper, and you, James." Nobody knows about that except for the four of us."
John now was breathing hard, and was fidgeting in his bed. James just sat there emotionless.
"James, in the attic, there are several boxes full of Eliza's old stuff, if you don't believe me, just find those and you'll find everything." John let out, while gasping and wheezing.
"You do believe me, though, don't you?" John asked, now sweating, gasping and wheezing, looking up at the person he just revealed to be his grandson.
"Yes." James replied sullenly.
"There is one thing, though." James asked, wondering about this.
"Who is my real father?" James asked.
John looked angry at this question, his eyes darkened. He didn't seem angry at James, but rather the answer to the question had.
His eyes began to close, as he said quietly: "Tom Riddle."
John's eyes closed, and he stopped breathing.