The Ties That Bind
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All recognisable characters, content, or locations belong to their respective owners. No copyright infringement intended.
Chapter Two: The Sorting Ceremony
James settles himself beside Frank Longbottom at the Gryffindor House table, and Remus, Peter, and Sirius quickly settle in available seats nearby. THey're surrounded by their fellow Gryffindors, sixth and seventh years in a disorganised cluster nearest the doors, and Frank barely turns himself from his conversation with the Prewett twins to acknowledge the Marauders' arrival.
As the hall steadily fills around them, James catches up with his classmates. The sixth and seventh year Gryffindor contingent are fairly close, drawn together by quidditch, increasing inter-house tensions, and the longterm relationship between Frank and Alice.
Speaking of…
"I hear congratulations are in order."
Frank beams. "Yes. Alice and I are betrothed. We're having a hand-fasting during Yule."
"I'm happy for you," James says, claps a hand over his friend's shoulder, and squeezes encouragingly, "I'm sure you two will make each other very happy."
"Thanks," Frank acknowledges, and pauses thoughtfully. "I've heard rumours that your parents arranged a betrothal contract over the summer."
"They're not rumours."
That receives more attention than James expects, and before he knows it, he's got Frank and Alice, Gideon and Fabian, and Hestia Urquhart focused entirely on him.
"Who?" Alice pries.
"Adriana Malfoy."
That, as expected, receives a number of arched eyebrows. She's a Ravenclaw, beautiful and unattainable, but she's also part of a family notorious for their dark leanings. Her magic is grey though, just like his, which is precisely why both families have agreed to the match.
"Lucky girl," Hestia says, "I hope she appreciates you."
'Unlike Evans' goes unspoken.
The others nod their agreement.
James smiles politely. "Thanks."
Hestia nods her acknowledgement and turns her attention to the conversation between Lily and Mary. James fastidiously avoids glancing at the latter two, and instead opts to focus on the conversation between Frank, Gideon, and Fabian. They've since returned to the topic of Britain's Auror Academy application process, and it's apparent all three of them are determined to receive early acceptance into the 1977 summer program. They want to join the fight against Voldemort, to bring an end to his oppressive regime, and James doesn't blame them.
Most days, he wants to, as well. then he thinks of his parents, of the neutral stance they've taken in the entire mess, and the fire of justice in his heart sputters out. Even if his family's neutrality weren't an edict enforced by the Family Magic, James can't - won't - jeopardise the tenuous safety they've managed to obtain. His entire family teeters on a tightrope, caught between two opposing powerhouses and their respective ideologies, and James knows better than to tip the balance in a fit of reckless, thoughtless courage.
As of late, he and his friends have been rather vague concerning their plans after Hogwarts. The future has been made more uncertain by the conflict their community is almost engulfed by, and every step they take towards the unknown is one mired in fear and self-doubt.
In saying that, James has every confidence that his friends won't join the Death Eaters, but whether they'll opt to fight against Voldemort's oppressive regime, or if they'll choose to remain neutral instead, he couldn't say.
Hell, James isn't even sure what he'll do beyond maintaining his family's neutrality, but Merlin, he's 16 years old, and it shouldn't be something he needs to be concerned about at all.
In any case, it's not a decision he can make on his own. He's betrothed now, with plans to be married by the summer, and Adriana has as much say in the matter as James himself. They're a matched set these days, and every decision he makes effects her (and vice versa), and if he's learned anything from his parents' marriage, is that communication is one of the most important factors within a relationship. As is, James and Adriana are barely friends at this point, and the thought of discussing future plans with her?
It's vaguely nauseating.
He's brought from his reverie as Professor McGonagall arrives with the most recent batch of Hogwarts first years. They appear even smaller than they did the year prior, and it's hard to believe he was ever that young. A lot has changed in five years, he's grown older and wiser and a whole lot more jaded, and the future isn't what it once was.
Despite his bleak thoughts, the sorting goes on as it usually does, James absently applauds the acquisition of each new Gryffindor, and before long, the feast has begun. Remus and Sirius dig in with contained enthusiasm, Peter isn't quite as tidy, and James absentmindedly serves himself all of his favourites.
"What's she like, then?" Frank asks.
"Clever," James answers, "Quiet. Observant."
"Utterly dull," Sirius contributes, "The perfect pure-blood princess. Girl doesn't have an opinion of her own about anything."
"That you know of," James parries mildly. Sirius pulls a face.
"Do you like her?" Alice asks. It subsequently attracts the attention of Evans and Mary Mac, though neither are caught up on the subject.
"She's a nice girl," James answers, "Mother loves her already."
"She's stunning, too," Hestia glibly adds, "That probably helps."
"That's probably all you can ask for," Frank muses, "That you tolerate her company, and that she gets on with your family."
James huffs a laugh. "I'll say."
"We'll have to meet her properly," Alice insists. "I don't think I've ever had a proper conversation with her."
"Good luck with getting anything meaningful out of her," Sirius scoffs, "Girl's the definition of a frigid bi-"
"Don't be a wanker, Padfoot," Remus interrupts. Peter glances awkwardly between the three of them, and James offers Remus a grateful smile.
"Just saying," Sirius defends himself, "Prongs could do a whole lot better. Isn't Eleanor Bones still unattached?"
"She's a light witch," James reminds him, "She'd be utterly miserable. Besides, you just don't like Adriana because her brother's a plonker."
Frank raises his glass in a toast, laughing. "I'll drink to that."
Sirius grimaces, chagrined. "Don't remind me. I'll be stuck putting up with that bastard for the rest of my life."
Narcissa Black had been betrothed to Lucius Malfoy in August. Due to their blood ties to the future bride, James and Sirius had both attended the engagement party. It hadn't been unpleasant, accompanied by Adriana or Sirius most of the day, but he'd have still preferred to be anywhere but near his future brother-by-bond. Lucius was practically saturated in black magic, had obviously begun meddling in things he certainly should not have been - and even as a magical neutral, it was plainly nauseating to be around him. .
"You and me both, mate," James commiserates, "You and me both."
Fabian claps Sirius on the back. "I don't envy you sods, though Jamie, she is a good looking bird. You could do far worse."
James smiles politely, unable to muster up an appropriate response, and occupies himself with his meal. The conversation continues around him, about O.W.L results, N.E.W.T subjects and exams, about future plans, the holidays just passed, their plans for the school year. The war on their doorstep is carefully avoided, guaranteed to be spoken of later, and it is almost a relief when Dumbledore rises to give his usual start of term notices.
"Welcome, and welcome back," Dumbledore greets them. He holds his hands out, as though to embrace them all, and although there is a jovial smile on his face, there are also tired circles under his eyes. "It is my hope that you're all ready and eager for another year of classes, homework, and other such riveting pursuits…"
Dumbledore's speech continues in the light-hearted fashion the old man prefers, and James tunes him out with ease. Instead, he studies the upper year students in each house, takes note of who is listening and who is not, and then clambers to his feet when they are finally dismissed.
"I'm going to walk Adriana to Ravenclaw Tower," James informs his friends, "What's the password?"
"Elixir," Remus answers, "We'll see you in the common room, Prongs."
James nods his acknowledgement, and jogs to catch up with his betrothed. She's surrounded by a cluster of Ravenclaw upper years, her arm linked with Emilyn's, and upon sight of him, she offers him a smile.
"My Lady," he greets her, "May I accompany you to Ravenclaw Tower?"
"I'd be pleased to walk with you, Heir James."
They slow their steps as Adriana's housemates continue onwards, and it's not long before the sound of their echoing voices fade into an indistinguishable murmur ahead.
"Did you have a pleasant afternoon?" James asks.
"I did," Adriana answers, "It was wonderful to visit with my friends. I'd not had the chance to see many of them over the summer."
"I can relate," James acknowledges, "I can't say I'm particularly surprised, though. A lot's been going on."
Traditionally, the holidays between a witch's and wizard's O.W.L and N.E.W.T exams are always rather hectic. The emergence of Voldemort and his war against the established regime, however, has caused a certain degree of urgency in the development of betrothals and the like, and therefore, James - and many of his 'high born' peers have been swept up in a storm of betrothal and bonding ceremonies, balls, soirees, and other such events.
In truth, it's all rather exhausting, and James dreads the winter holidays, wherein he is expected to endure it all again. Presumably, he'll be invited to Frank and Alice's bonding celebrations, however, and that, at least, is something he can and will look forward to.
"That's very true," Adriana concurs, "I hope things settle down soon."
James' smile is weary. Adriana's hope is perhaps naive, but he can only agree with the sentiment. He wonders what that makes him. "You and me both, my Lady. You and me both."
-!- -#-
Chapter Three: The Lions' Den
Inside Gryffindor Tower, James finds his fellow upper years clustered by the windows. Remus is settled comfortably in an armchair, preoccupied by his most recent interest (namely, an analysis of the deteriorating relationship between Britain and the International Confederation of Wizards, and more broadly, the wider international magical communities). In particular, it examines the causes behind those deteriorating ties, and the resulting consequences, present and future..
To James, the subject sounds about as dry as dirt, if perhaps useful in his inevitable future as the Head of House Potter, but each to their own, and all that..
Gideon and Fabian are absorbed in what is sure to be an intense game of Wizard's Chess, and nearby, Sirius, Peter, and Frank are in the midst of a loud, animated conversation about that year's European Quidditch Cup. It had recently come to an end, the Norwegians loudly, joyously triumphant, but the final had been one for the ages, and James isn't at all surprised that his friends are still talking about it.
"About time you got here," Hestia greets him, "Did you get lost in a broom closet or something?"
"Yes, that's exactly what happened," James deadpans. He drops gracelessly onto the ground in front of Sirius' armchair, slumps wearily against the base of it, and yawns into his hand, "Actually, we just got to talking about the readings Professor Whitaker assigned us for his N.E.W.T level Ancient Runes class. I lost track of time."
"You're doing the Suicide Seven, then?" Hestia assumes, "I wondered. You mentioned it at the end of last term, but I didn't know if you were being serious."
"I was," James confirms, "Sirius and Remus are, as well."
"Lily is, too," Hestia confides. She glances briefly at the girl in question, curled up on a sofa with Mary and the latter's beast of a cat. "You think you can handle that?"
James rolls his eyes. "I've shared classes with her for five years. What's another two?"
Hestia shrugs, and reasons, "Everything's different now."
James can't argue that. He's betrothed now, and Lily Evans is no longer friends with Severus Snape. As a cohort, their awareness of the tumult beyond the borders of Hogwarts is an inexplicable, oppressive weight on their collective shoulders, and there is a gravitas - a significance, to every decision they make now. They're 16 or 17 years old, but they're somehow no longer kids anymore, and in the grand scheme of things, that's important.
All the same, his betrothal guarantees that Lily Evans - and every other eligible witch in Hogwarts - is officially off limits to him. He's had two months to come to terms with the fact, and although the very sight of the pretty redhead makes James' heart twinge with the thought of what might have been, he's also accepted the fact that, these days, his future is now irrevocably tied to that of someone else's.
James smiles wryly. "Guess we'll find out then, won't we?"
Hestia sighs her acknowledgement. She seems so tired. "I guess so."
"At least McGonagall ought to be pleased," James muses, "She doesn't often have many Gryffindors on the Suicide Seven track."
"Yeah," Hestia glibly agrees, "I bet she's looking forward to helping you lot deal with all of your panic attacks."
"Of course," James facetiously agrees, "It will probably be the highlight of her year."
"It will definitely be something," Hestia murmurs. She brushes wisps of her blonde hair out of her face, and James notes, absently, that she's chewed her nails down to the quick. "So, neutral, huh?"
"Neutral," James confirms. They've acquired some attention now, Alice and Frank and Remus shuffling forward to join the conversation. They look suddenly sober, as though all the levity has been sucked out of the room in just a few moments, and predictably, their focus draws the attention of the others.
"Why?" Alice asks. She sounds genuinely baffled. "Lord and Lady Potter don't give a toss about blood purity."
"Because, barring my parents, I'm the last of the House of Potter. We can't exactly afford to die for this war."
"Of course," Frank smacks himself on the forehead, "How could I have forgotten? Merlin!"
"I never realised you were the last branch," Hestia admits, chagrined.
James shrugs. "It's not exactly something we advertise. It was only ever the main branch that stayed in Britain. The extended family always settled on the Continent."
"But then Grindelwald happened," Sirius contributes, and his expression is carved from stone.
"He decimated the House of Potter," James explains, "Dad's never been able to figure out why, but either way, by the time Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, my Dad was the last of our family. I guess he doesn't want me to know that burden."
There's more to the story, tied up in ancient history, in family magic and oaths bound by blood, in duty and honour an heritage, but James doesn't want to get into that, and no one else aware of the facts is inclined to explaining, either.
Truth be told, James wouldn't even know where to start.
"You can't just fight, anyway?" Lily asks. her face is flushed red with a flare of indignant temper, and James braces himself for her wrath. "People are dying out there."
"I'm very much aware of that," James answers coolly, "And no, I can't 'just fight'. Setting aside the fact Voldemort would happily kill my parents in retaliation, my father is the Head of House Potter. His word is law. Moreover, our neutrality is an edict enforced by the Potter Family Magic itself. I'd literally be punished from the inside out."
"He could die from it," Sirius contributes. He tries to sound flippant, but he mostly fails, and his words leave a heavy, uncomfortable silence in their wake.
What could any of them say to that, really?
"On that delightful note, I think I'll call it a night," Frank declares. Fabian and Gideon are quick to follow, as is almost everyone else, and soon thereafter, James finds himself in the dormitory he shares with Remus, Sirius, and Peter.
"So, that was unpleasant," Remus says mildly. He lowers himself onto his four-poster, opens up his text where he'd left off in the common room, and settles into read some more.
"You can say that again," Sirius agrees. He's in the midst of getting changed, his shoes kicked haphazardly across the floor, his robe discarded carelessly over his trunk. It won't be long until his section of the dorm room is a mess, but the rest of them have grown accustomed to it over the years, and they don't bat an eye.
"It could have been worse," Peter opines. He's unearthed a packet of pumpkin pasties from the depths of his trunk, and he doesn't look inclined to share them. "I mean, there were no hexes thrown, right?"
"Thank Merlin for small favours," James answers glibly, chuckling. He launches himself along the length of his bed, rests his head in his hands, and stares mindlessly up at the canopy of his four-poster. It's been a long day, and he is tired, "Though I can't imagine we've heard the end of that conversation."
"Something to look forward to," Sirius sardonically concurs.
"Yeah," James agrees with a weary sigh, "Along with everything else this year has to throw at us."
"I'm quite looking forward to our classes, actually" Remus opines. Sirius rolls his eyes from the next bed over, exasperated but unsurprised, and sends a colour-changing hex at Remus' head. It's avoided effortlessly, and Remus' resultant, unimpressed glower is golden.
"The Ancient Runes syllabus looks pretty interesting," James concedes, unfazed by their byplay.
The Ancient Runes syllabus for their first year of N.E.W.T level studies consists of an introduction to the runic specialties of Ward Construction and Curse Breaking, Enchanting, and Rites and Rituals. Also included is the exploration of the languages of the Babylonian, Aztec, Chinese, and Egyptian people, and although it's all predominantly theoretical, it's also a lot more interesting than the in-depth analysis of the Celtic, Nordic, and Grecian alphabets of the three years prior.
"You'd say that," Sirius laughs, "Ancient Runes is your favourite subject."
"Who even looks at class syllabi, anyway?" Peter wonders. His cheeks are covered in crumbs, but he seems unruffled by the mess.
"I do," Remus helpfully contributes.
There's a moment where all three of Remus' roommates glance at the tawny haired bookworm, expressions utterly deadpan, before James launches one of his pillows at Remus' face, laughing. "I think you're the exception, Moony - not the rule."
"Why thank you," Remus drolly replies, "I'm glad you realise how special I am."
"That's one way of putting it," Sirius quips. He's already made himself comfortable under his covers, and he occupies himself by spelling small, floating lights onto the inner lining of his bed curtains. They're in the shape of constellations he's had memorised by rote since his childhood, and from James' vantage point, he can make out Canis Major, Leo, and Orion's Belt.
"How else would you put it?" Remus blinks at Sirius, his expression utterly guileless. He's a fantastic actor, has miraculously fooled the entire Hogwarts faculty into believing that, yes, he's actually that innocent, and no one would ever believe that in fact, Remus is the mastermind behind most of their pranks. James is pretty sure they'd all prefer to keep it that way, if perhaps for different reasons.
"Crazy?" Peter suggests.
"Bonkers," Sirius contributes.
James grins at Remus. "All of the above?"
Remus effects a wounded expression, his hand clutched over his heart, and gasps, "You wound me."
Sirius rolls over to look at Remus, and answers, "We've got to keep you humble somehow."
"Says the pot to the kettle," Remus parries.
"He's got you there, Pads," Peter opines. As Sirius pouts, mock affronted, James only laughs, and buries his face in his pillow to muffle the sound.
Gods, but it's good to be surrounded by his friends again. Things are different now, with the war on their doorstep and expectations at every turn, but his friends haven't changed, and with them, James can pretend his life isn't spiralling towards a future he'd never expected for himself.
At least for a little while.