Boxing Day- Ministry Ball
James Potter
The room was warm and James' collar sat uncomfortably against his neck, irritating the skin beneath. He resisted the urge however to pull it away from his neck because despite the fact that Ginny looked immersed in conversation, she had the uncanny knack of being able to spot his fidgeting.
The ball was glamorous and decorated to the nines. Snow covered the many christmas trees dotted around the grand hall. Twinkling candles hovered in the air far above, enchanting the scene below them. James had been to this same ball five times, but the grandness never faded. He was equally as amazed as he was the first time, and that was a magic in itself. The witches all wore their poshest frocks; his mother was draped in a floor length green dress, and James certainly wasn't alone in thinking she was the prettiest woman in the room (he was sure his dad would agree.) Lily looked equally beautiful in a silvery blue dress that managed to make her look pretty and grown-up whilst still reflecting her age. They sat at a small circular table near the main podium with the Kingsley's and Rose's family. The party was held every year and was only attended by Ministry employees. There was usually a speech, some awards for outstanding members of staff, and a bit of a dance. For James though, it was deadly boring. They had all been treated to a lovely four course meal that left James feeling like he just might explode and they were now waiting for Kingsley.
"Welcome," Kingsley said, his voice echoing around the large room, "to the 24th annual Ministry Ball." There was a smattering of applause. "Here today we will of course be rewarding members of our staff that have been admirable this year and a credit to our Ministry and our country. First, I would like to speak of Annie Goldsmith, who was tragically taken from us this year. I was lucky enough to know Annie personally and she was a credit to our race. She was a fantastic witch, who was ambitious, driven and determined to make a mark on this world. She was brave, fierce and our very best. So please would you reach for your glasses." The flutes- which had been empty- steadily filled with champagne to toast. James was sad to see that his glass contained apple juice- he wasn't the only one upset by that. Scorpius sat two tables over and was frowning into his drink. James smirked at that. He raised his glass and waited for the sobering toast, "To Annie."
"To Annie!" They all cried taking large sips from their glasses. James saw his dad swallow his drink hard, his face pained. He'd never really liked champagne. There was a moment of silence before Kingsley began speaking again, James however was frowning at his father, who was still wincing, in concern.
"Now let's move on to our first award. As we know, many changes have happened over the last year but one of those-"
"Dad," James said sharply. A few people shushed him but James was frozen, something was wrong. "Dad," he said in alarm, trying to get the attention of those around him. Ron was the first to look around, and he jumped to his feet when he saw Harry's slack grey face as he swayed in his seat.
"Shit, Harry?" Ron caught him and lowered him to the floor. The hall thundered with noise, rushing past his ears, blocking everything. James couldn't think, couldn't feel. People were pressing towards them, and a pale Kingsley was holding them back. Ron and Hermione were talking frantically over their best friend, Hermione's hand deep inside her clutch bag, rooting for something. James looked towards his mum: she was pale and hovering beside Ron and Hermione, letting them work. His dad was frothing at the mouth now.
There was a tug on his elbow, "Jimmy," Lily said with wide eyes. He couldn't think, couldn't speak, so he wrapped an arm around her.
Hermione had something in her hand, it looked like a stone. Ron forced Harry's mouth open, and she stuffed the rock into his mouth. They both leant back panting, Harry's head still in Ron's lap, waiting.
With a splutter, all the feeling returned to James. His dad vomited onto Ron and he blinked as his eyes cleared.
"He's alive!"
"I thought he was a gonner!"
"How did he get poisoned, it's a secure location?"
"It's not safe"
"oh my god."
James didn't move still. He clutched his sister closer towards him and grabbed a hold of Albus by his dress robes. There was a clash of people who tried again to rush forward, pressing them against the hard table in front.
"Healers are on their way," Ron said loudly, trying to calm them all but his hands were still shaking, James noticed. "Nothing a Bezoar couldn't fix, right Harry?" James thought he heard his dad tell him to stick it. Ron threw his head back and laughed suddenly, startling Hermione who was running her wand up and down him, checking for injuries, James supposed.
"He's alright," Albus said firmly, shrugging out of James' tight grip and frowning up at him, though there was hardly any difference in height between them. "James, relax man, he's fine, he just told Uncle Ron to fuck off- pretty sure he's alright." James tried to relax, embarrassed at himself for reacting- or failing to react- in this way. He still felt stiff and unable to breathe.
He'd frozen when his dad had gone down- he hadn't been able to do anything. He hadn't even been able to say something was wrong… If Ron hadn't turned around, well…
He didn't feel like much of a Gryffindor.
He was certain that his dad had never reacted like this in a life or death situation. Not Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived. No, he'd have jumped up and done something. James Potter, not exactly a chip off the block, he couldn't help but think bitterly.
"What was wrong?" Lily asked curiously, turning to face Albus as though he had all the answers. James felt a stab of hurt.
"Just a bit of poison, sure he's had worse at Weasley gatherings," Albus snickered. "No need to panic really."
"Who do you reckon did it?" Rose asked, worming her way around the table towards them, Hugo was following looking quite relaxed.
"Must be that group non-..." Hugo mused before being interrupted by his sister.
"Conformites," she sniffed, looking around in deep thought, "but how did they know to attack here, no one outside the Ministry knew of the event or where it was held. I mean, there are thousands of security procedures in place, you can't just walk in."
"Someone must have talked," James said fiercely, a hatred he had never felt before rising up inside as he looked around the hall with narrowed eyes. Someone here was working against them, someone here was a traitor. It could be anyone, anyone in this room could be plotting the death of everyone he had ever known and loved.
Someone in this room stood in the shadows, working against them, and plotting the Light's downfall. James felt hopeless, drained, he was a kid in an adult world. He suddenly realised why his father wanted him out of the war, why he treated him as a child rather than an adult.
James could admit now what had caused arguments yesterday. He was a kid. There was nothing he could contribute to the war effort and there was no reason for him to be involved. He was useless.
That was a sobering thought.
"Why just poison Harry though? I mean they could have set another explosion," Rose asked quietly, they all paused unable to prevent wondering what horror and death that would cause.
"It'd be harder to get in here than the kitchens," Albus said knowingly. James looked over to his dad who was now sat up and looking annoyed as he tried uncoordinatedly to wave the healer away. Ron was laughing but neither Hermione or his mum looked amused.
Eventually, after much persuasion and complaining, Harry was stretchered off to St. Mungo's and the party restarted, although James noticed several aurors patrolling the room, including Ron. Hermione bustled over, her lifesaving purse back on her shoulder.
"You three will be coming back with me- I think we'll leave now," Hermione said, looking around the room in distaste. James wondered if she was thinking about the traitor in their midst as he was.
James could feel his siblings eyes on him and he realised what they wanted him to do. "It's alright, Aunt Hermione, I'll take them."
"James-," but he cut her off.
"I'm of age, Potter Cottage is secure, and there is no reason why we shouldn't go alone." James stood strong even though the thought of standing up to Aunt Hermione usually had him shaking at the knees. He saw her look towards Ron and he realised that she might actually need to stay and leaving was just for them. "If you are needed here, Rose and Hugo could come back with us." James realised after he spoke that the way that he had phrased it made it sound that he had no intention of doing what she wanted- which he supposed he didn't.
Ron and Hermione locked eyes from across the room, boring into each other with such an intensity that James was convinced they were communicating Non-Verbally. "All of you, go with James, lock the doors, check the wards and keep your wands on you. We'll come get Rosie and Hugo just after twelve." She kissed her children and then Albus and Lily. She locked eyes with James and he knew what she was thinking without needing to read her mind, 'if anything happens to them… I'll never forgive you." He nodded and left the hall, the others following behind him.
They flooed home, and James sat in the living room for the rest of the night twirling his wand between his fingers and thinking over every spell Alison had taught him this year. He stayed there all night, long after the rest went to sleep.
