28th March- Harry Potter, Ministry of Magic

It was the first day of the Hogwarts Easter Holidays, later, he and Ginny would be going to pick up Albus and Lily. But not James, James wanted to stay at Hogwarts this year. Harry sighed and rubbed his forehead, wary of the lines that were slowly creasing themselves into permanence along his brow. He had spent all of his Easter holidays at Hogwarts or at the Weasley's… But he'd had the Dursleys at home. Harry sighed looking at the ceiling, he often wondered how his parents would have coped in these situations. James had always been an easy child… And now he was distant and hard to reach. Harry couldn't help but wonder what he'd done wrong, and what he could do to fix it.

At least James wasn't the only one staying, Dan Thomas, Fred and Louis were all staying. Harry didn't doubt that the girls his son was so fond of, Aalaa and Maddie, would be staying too. Whenever he'd stayed at Hogwarts, it was to solve some sort of mystery, fight some unknown enemy. He wasn't sure why James needed to stay. He had not thought to explain himself in his very brief letter. James was turning his father old before his time. That was a certainty.

Work wasn't exactly the refuge it once was from family strife. They had arrested several people linked to the murders of Anne and Johnson. But despite interrogation, neither had given anything up. Still, they had charged them for terrorism and they were in Azkaban until their trial. It took some of them off the streets, at least. Ron had raided the Prophets a couple of months back, and ever since they had been trailing through archived letters for any suspicious correspondence. Ron's theory was that an attacker such as this did not arise over night, and it was likely that he/she had written to the Prophet or the Ministry to whine. At least that was what Ron said. Harry wasn't sure how much stock he put into it, but they were following all lines of inquiry.

After the arrest of Hermione's attacker, it had taken several months to acquire the permission to use vertisism. They had to go through the Minister and the European Magical Ethics Commision. Finally, it had been approved last week.

Harry would be interviewing. Both he and Hermione had decided Ron was far too involved to be allowed to interrogate, so instead it was Freya who was assisting today. There was also the suspects lawyer and a delegate from the EMEC. Harry hoped they could get something useful from the man, but he wasn't that hopeful. He was pretty sure the mastermind behind this group would not have sacrificed someone with actual knowledge of the operation. Still, if they could learn anything new, it would be an achievement.

Harry entered the interview room. It was a dull grey inside, and one of the only rooms in the Ministry that didn't have a window. It gave it a very drab look. There was a metal table, that was, by sticking charm, lovingly attached to the floor. As there were to be so many people in the room today, two chairs were at either side of the table and a chair also stood at the corner. Freya was already sitting at the table, in front of a blank wall that served as a looking glass window. He was sure Hermione and Ron were already behind it, so gave a finger wave. In the chair in the corner was a small woman, with a cross, lined face and an air of 'I'd rather be anywhere than here' Harry had met her before on a previous case.

"Angela," he said politely, nodding towards her as he took his seat. "Got everything we need?" He asked Freya, she nodded distractedly, absently using her wand to highlight some key information.

"Mr Potter," Angela Graaf said, "I'll administer the serum, once we have begun the recording. Personal questions that have no relevance to the case are not permitted. Any evidence gained through means we have not agreed will be dismissed and you will not be allowed to use it as evidence," she said sternly, reading from the parchment in front of her.

"One would think, we were the criminals," Harry said lightly, but allowing his aggravation of the interference to seep into his voice.

"I am sure you, Mr Potter, of all people, understand the need to ensure every individual is represented by the law. Especially when the suspect in question has yet to serve trial."

Harry bristled but Freya kicked his foot under the table without looking up from her notes. He stopped himself from responding, reminding himself she was doing her job.

The door opened and two Hit Wizards, Molly Weasley and Andrew Perterson, her mentor, escorted Reginald Atlas into the room, cuffing him to the table. His lawyer, a stout looking man with a beefy nose hurried in after. "I hardly think that is necessary," he cried.

"Last time Atlas was interviewed he tried to bite me," Freya said sternly, "the handcuffs will prevent him from being a danger to us and himself."

The lawyer sat down and introduced himself as Carlos Jefferson. Harry hadn't had dealings with him before, but he was sure Hermione would have. Hermione knew all the lawyers, and if they'd have known who he'd chosen to represent him, she'd have advised him how to run this. Still, he wasn't new to making it up as he went along.

Weasley and Peterson left the room. Freya started the recording with a flick of her wand. "5th April 2022, time is 11:03. Present in the room is Mr Reginald Atlas, charged with the attempted murder of Hermione Granger-Weasley and terrorism charges linked with the terrorist group the Non-Conformites. Also in the room is Carlos Jefferson, the suspects lawyer, Freya Wright, interviewer, Angela Graaf representative of the European Magics Ethics Commision and lead investigator and Head Auror, Harry Potter."

"Reg, can I call you Reg?" The man didn't move just glowered at Harry as he spoke, "I'll take that as a yes, we are going to administer Veritisism, Reg, are you aware of what this is?" He nodded dumbly, mouth securely closed. "If you could speak, sir, for the recording." He could imagine in the other room Ron lambasting him for calling the man sir, but he pushed the thought aside.

"Yes," the man croaked.

"Let me get you some water," Freya said sympathetically. So kindly that you would think she felt sorry for the man, until you looked into her eyes and saw the steely hatred hiding there. Reginald fell for it though, taking the glass of conjured water with what he must have thought was a flirty smile.

"I believe we are ready to begin, Angela?" Harry said, fighting the temptation to check his watch. He had hours before he had to pick the kids up. But still he was anxious to see them.

She nodded, pulling a vial from her briefcase and walking towards the table. "Please open your mouth, Atlas," that man wanted to protest but it was his lawyer that held up his hand.

"My client would like to ensure that his cooperation will lead to a shorter sentence," he said wringing his hands.

"Your client has had several months to willingly cooperate. He will not be getting any favours," Harry said sharply. The lawyer nodded, and gestured for Angela to proceed. The liquid trickled into his mouth.

They gave it a couple of minutes.

"What is your name," Freya asked, quill hovering over a clear parchment.

"Reginald Harold Atlas," he whimpered.

"Where do you live?"

"I lived above the quill shop in Diagon Alley. Now my flat is gone, sold most likely, and I live in Azkaban."

Freya nodded, continuing with the prearranged questions, "Why were you arrested?"

"I tried to murder that mudblood bitch," he said, spit flying from his lips. His lawyer looked mildly sick and disgusted as he lent slightly away from his client.

"Could you clarify, for the record please," Freya said sweetly through her clenched teeth, "to whom are you referring?"

"Hermione Granger-Weasley," he snarled even though he tried to choke down the words.

"And who told you to kill Mrs Granger-Weasley?" Freya probed again, Harry lent forward.

"I don't have a name," he said his lips twisting.

"A description then," Harry said forcefully. "What did they look like?"

"She was tall, skinny, didn't see her face. She had one of those posh accents though, thought she was up herself."

Freya noted down his description. "What did she tell you to call her?"

"She didn't, and I wasn't stupid enough to ask," he said freely, shrugging.

"Why did she want you to kill Mrs Granger-Weasley, the specifics, if you'd please," Harry said in a bored tone, he hated these parts of the job the most, having to talk to the filth of the world.

"Why does anyone wanna' kill that cow? She's a jumped up mudblood, changing all these laws,making it harder and harder for us to survive. I didn't think I'd get the chance to actually kill that bitch, but I hurt her. I made her bleed, you don't know how happy that makes me…"

"Where did you meet?" Harry asked.

The man frowned, "We met on Knockturn alley, she came to me, in the bar, Dead Witch."

"And how did she know to find you?"

"Someone told her, didn't they? That I hate the mudbloods and that they took my job. She knew I wanted to get them."

Harry hid his snarl. "Who knew?"

"I'm not ashamed, I'm right in what I think. I wasn't the only one that thought like that too. Since the war, these people taking our jobs, taking our power just to be PC. Our families have been around a long time. Our families alone have remained pure."

"Who?" Harry repeated.

"My mate, Theo Nott, Alister Browning. There was another guy as well," he wrinkled his head in thought, "I don't know him but sometimes he came to the pub with us, had a drink like, has two little kids, says he's worried about their futures now all these mudbloods are in power. Terrence. That's his name."

"Last name?" Asked Freya.

"Umm, not sure. I can't say he ever told us, like I said, just got chatting is all. He's got two kids, girl and a lad, lad is a right bright spark: brought him to the pub over summer. His son is probably about seventeen? Eighteen? Maybe younger, not good with kids. My mistress took mine off me and haven't seen hide nor hair of em' in ten years."

"What about his daughter?"

"She's a pretty thing; saw her once, if her daddy hadn't been there I mighta wanted to do nasty things to that face," he sneered, shifting in her seat. Harry swallowed hard, thinking about what that sentence implied, what this man would do for kicks...

Angela, disgust evident in her voice, spoke up, "You can't use that statement."

"Rodger," said Freya equally disgusted as she stuck out the line in her notes.

"How old was she? Does she have a name?" Harry asked angrily, sick rising in his stomach the longer he spoke to this man.

"Everyone got a name, don't they? She didn't give it me, her daddy doesn't like her much though. Last I saw him he was worried about her hanging with the wrong sort. Blood traitors and the like. I don't know how old she is, like I said. Not good with ages. Her tits were small though, and she didn't have much of a curve, so I'm betting she's a couple years younger than the lad," he seemed to have no reservations now, the words tumbling out easily as he sneered.

"Atlas, I would advise-" Jefferson started but the man almost growled. Jefferson mopped his sweating brow, his eyes almost bugging in desperation.

"What did the girl look like, Atlas," Harry growled, "you seemed to have taken a bit of an interest, you must know what colour her hair was."

"I can't say I spent that much time looking at her hair," Atlas rumbled, "brown, maybe black."

"And the woman, what did you talk about with her?" Asked Freya, steering him back on track.

"She told me she agreed, that she thought all these mudbloods and blood traitors had pushed us around for too long. That they didn't deserve their stations. She said that she had been pushed out of jobs for mudbloods and mudblood lovers. Very nasty lady, she told me horrible things," he said with a sick smile, he licked his lips at the thought.

"What things?" Freya pressed again. Atlas looked at Harry and smirked.

"She doesn't like you very much, not at all. She told me all the horrible things she'd do if she could get to you. Although, she said you were too safe, all tucked away with your aurors and bodyguards," he licked his lips, he was enjoying himself now, letting the words fall, thinking of the most painful way he could say them.

"What's your eldest called? Jake? No… James," he snickered seeing the blanch in Harry's face, "she really wants him, did you know?" Harry said nothing, "not just to kill him, I think that'd be too easy for her. You don't get much pleasure from a quick death. That's why I wouldn't have killed Weasley bitch quick. I think that is what she wants, pleasure. She's like me that way, int' she? She'll make him suffer, she'll hurt him beyond your comprehension, and she'll love every damn second." Harry felt woozy, and bile was clotting his throat.

"How is she planning on getting Mr Potter's son?" Freya asked threateningly.

"Oh she wasn't worried, she said when the time was right she'd have him. Said if she really wanted she could get them all at once but where was the fun in that? I said she should just pick em' off, one by one," Harry's chair scraped as he stood up and made to lunge across the table. "She liked that idea, she laughed a lot, she likes the idea of killing him in front of you while he begs for his life, asks his daddy why he can't save him…"

Freya had a hand on his robes, pulling him back, but he still made to shake her off. Jefferson squeaked in horror, trying to dive from his seat and out of the way, "Mr Potter!" Angela cried, "any violence and the evidence you gathered will be inadmissible! Think, Potter!" Harry stood uncertain, fist half raised.

"She'll have you, she'll have you all. Your boy, your slut Granger and then she'll have em' all," he cackled, "you wait, you wait."

"Last question," said Freya, "how many belong to this group?"

"How would I know? I just know I'm not the only one to think like me."

"And you never met any of the others?"

"No, if I had succeeded, I would have met them all, but I failed, dint' eye?"

"Interview concluded at 11:46 am," Freya concluded. Harry stepped back from the table, pulsing in adrenaline and anger.

"Have fun rotting away, Altas," Harry snarled as Weasley and Peterson re entered the room and took hold of their charge.

"Little Jamesie will pay, Potter, he'll die bloody because of you!" He screamed as he was dragged away by a pale Molly, who looked beyond horrified. "Begging like the coward you all are, under that gold! He will cry like a baby when she kills him!" He screamed as he was dragged down the corridor.

Harry said nothing, he lent forward and grabbed the table.

"Well, I best be off," said Jefferson. He awkwardly fled the room, leaving his sweat stained handkerchief on the table. Angela also rose to her feet.

"Mr Potter," Harry looked towards her, "you handled that well, do not put too much credence on the voice of a madman," she shook both their hands, "good luck with the case, the EMEC will assist you in any way they can," and left the room also.

"Boss, are you-"

"Freya, can you please fire call Teddy. I want him with my son at all times. I want him five steps behind. If he doesn't see my son for more than five minutes someone fucking calls me. He does not leave him alone."

"On it, boss," she said kindly. She obviously wanted to say something more but he was her superior, and it wasn't her place. Plus, when you've found out a homicidal maniac is after your son, not many things can reassure you. Harry stood there dumbly until Hermione ran in, wrapping her arms around him snugly, his face resting on her shoulder.

"Oh Harry, we heard everything," she said into his hair.

"Don't you worry, no fucking lunatic bitch is getting their hands on my godson," Ron ranted. Harry sniffed. "Stop sniffing my wife's hair, you weirdo," Ron said pulling Harry into his arms instead, "my hair smells better," Harry laughed weakly while Hermione clucked in disapproval. "We will make them pay, all of them," he said fiercely.

"Why James though?" Harry said weakly, "I get me, but why him? Why not Albus or Lily? Or Ted?"

Ron pulled away, "A lot of Purebloods believe that the first child is the progeny. They inherit the titles, the money, the land- the others are spares. To Purebloods, James is your heir, and therefore you would care more for him. Albus is the spare heir, and Lily is a girl. They think killing James will hurt you most," Ron said sadly.

"How could anyone ever think that I'd love one child more than the others?"

"Because they have never loved their children equally, they don't understand how you wouldn't play favourites. It's why a lot of the old families only have one child, they only have a second if the first is a girl or sickly."

"Except the Weasley's," Harry said with a smile.

"Yeah, we were never one for traditions though," Ron said ruffling his hair, so the back, which he'd allowed to grow long, stood up in orangey wisps. "We have some leads though."

"Yeah, tall bitch lady," Harry sighed, he could think of many people that filled that criteria.

"Don't forget the other guy, Terrance," Ron said thinking. Harry looked at him, brow furrowing.

"You think he put them in contact?" Harry said, not surprised, he'd been thinking along the same lines.

"I'd stake my life on it," Ron said lightly.

"And how many Terrence's have two children at Hogwarts?" Hermione interjected, "that's our best lead."

"Don't forget the bar," Ron said, "I reckon staking out there is a good bet," he said to a disbelieving Hermione.

"Really? Everyone knows who you are, you are hardly inconspicuous," she said waspishly, "one of the younger aurors should do it, Freya or Greg."

"No way should Freya go there, you heard Atlas," Ron argued back. Harry winced at the onslaught he knew was coming.

"Why? Because she's a woman? Freya is more than capable, isn't she Harry?" She turned to Harry who floundered.

"Well yeah, but-"

"See?"

"That's not the point, Hermione. Wright is a Blooming good auror but you heard him, it was a group of guys. She would be eye candy for them, sure, but that type is less likely to open up to a woman," Ron said, raising his voice.

"Eye candy? Ronald that is honestly the-" Hermione's tirade was broken by a tired looking Harry.

"Ron has a point, it's unlikely that they'll open up to her. Not to mention I doubt many women go in the 'Dead Witch'," Harry said, blowing the wind out of Hermione's sails. Ron looked smug.

"Well, Greg then?" Hermione asked but both the men shook their heads.

"He's good, but he's a bit too fresh faced for this sort of thing. Not to mention he's a muggle born, Ron's right- it needs to be him."

"But I hardly think people will believe that Ron is a muggleborn hater," Hermione fumed, Ron grinned at her, not fazed in the slightest in her anger. He knew it all came from a good place.

"Who said Ron had to look like Ron?" Harry said lightly, the plans already falling into place.


Same day- Hogwarts

James Potter

James had decided to stay for two very good reasons. But two reasons he did not want to share with his parents. The first reason, and the main one, was that he wanted to get Teddy alone to talk to him. He had a feeling Teddy might open up when they were alone and James was sure something was wrong. They had never gone this long without talking. Perhaps being James' bodyguard had become a drain on him. Or, James thought, he was having problems with Vic, which James didn't blame him for, she was a ferocious woman.

The rest of the family, his brother and sister included, had gone home for the Easter break. The rest of his friends, except Aalaa who didn't celebrate Easter, were originally planning on going home until they realised he was staying. He hadn't really gone into why he wanted to stay, but Fred still felt guilty over Christmas and he was still trying to make amends, Maddy's parents were going to be busy, or so she said, and Dan, he strongly suspected, wanted to stay because Aalaa was.

James had another reason for staying; Allie was spending Easter here. Although they spent plenty of time together, it would be nice to see each other when not snowed under by school work. Plus it was getting warmer, and the house elves were very accommodating with picnics by the lake.

They were the only ones in the common room, Fred, Dan, Aalaa, Maddy and himself. He left them playing exploding snap. There was no reason to put off seeing Ted.

Ted had been staying in spare teachers quarters for the last four months. James hadn't been there, yet, but he knew where they were. James ambled towards them, it was a plain wooden door but it had his brother's name stuck, somewhat childishly, to the door, 'Ted Lupin', in his brother's untidy scrawl.

He knocked twice, feeling anxious despite himself. He had barely seen Ted, he saw him sometimes, just glimpses on the corridor, but he hadn't actually spoken to him since January, since he told Ted about Higgs. Part of him wondered if Ted had told his dad what James had done and Harry, furiously, had taken it out on Ted- which was why he was ignoring him. Somehow, James didn't think that was likely.

The door opened, and Ted peered blearily out. He looked disheveled, his robes creased and his eyes, normally such a piercing blue, stood sunken in his face. The thing that shocked James the most was that his brother's hair was a mousey brown. James could count on one hand the times he had seen his hair this colour.

When Andromeda went to hospital with dragon fever

When Ron was cursed and spent months in hospital

When James fell off his broom in first year and Ted thought that he'd die.

When Ted had been told the full truth of his parents deaths

The day he was about to propose to Vic and asked Bill for his blessing.

In their family, they always said a lot could be learned from Ted's hair colour. Ted's hair was blue most of the time, when he was sad it would go a dark colour, normally a dark blue, embarrassed it would have pink tinges, angry- it would look like it was on fire. Sometimes it was green, but they didn't think that meant much.

When it went brown it was bad. It meant he couldn't control it. That the power had switched off almost. James bit his lip.

"Yeah?" Ted asked hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. He looked like he'd lost weight too.

James pushed himself into the room, "Come on Ted, we need to sort you out," Ted blinked, not understanding or even having any comprehension.

"James," he said suddenly, urgently, James turned around, raising his eyebrow- but Ted lapsed into silence.

James pottered about tidying up a little, putting the books back on the shelf, piling up the dishes, he called a house elf for some tea and food, she took one look at the room before saying, "Binky will send an elf to tidy the room," before disappearing.

In less than half an hour the room was set back to rights. Ted said nothing during the entire process. Sometimes it looked like he wanted to speak, but he held back. James knew his big brother was embarrassed. As soon as the elves had left and the tea sat on the small table, James pushed him into a seat, pouring him a drink.

"What's wrong, Ted?" He asked. His brother dipped at his tea, lost in thought.

"Nothing," but his lips twisted as if he wanted to say more. James suspected that he didn't want to seem weak in front of him, they talked often of James' feelings and thoughts, but rarely of Ted's'- he was the kid in the relationship and he felt it keenly.

"Ted I know something is wrong. It's not been hard to notice," James said chidingly, tuning into his inner Ginny Potter.

"Nothing wrong," he said forcefully, staring into space. James bit his lip, he wanted to help, but maybe he wasn't the right person. His brother was fiercely independent, he had, through his life, been proud of this fact. Whereas James had always leaned on Ted and his parents for support, Ted had a thirst to prove himself. Perhaps he needed his independence. Or, perhaps, more likely, he wanted to prove he could do it himself, because he was by himself. He was an orphan, and while James sympathised with him, he had never been able to understand that loss.

"Look, I get why you might not want to tell me, I'm your little brother, I get it, but you should talk to someone, Vic, she'd know what to say, or dad-" James was interrupted by Ted, who the first time had an expression on his face, and it wasn't a good one.

"He isn't my dad, and you aren't my brother," Ted said forcefully. James forced himself not to wince or recoil at the harshness of his words. James knew, obviously, that they weren't brothers, but Ted had always said he was his brother, and James had always been so proud, so very proud, to be classed as such. Because whereas James couldn't choose Albus or Lily (even though he always would choose them) he'd chosen Ted, and he had thought that Ted had chosen him.

"Ted, you're angry, but-"

"You are not my family," Ted said blankly, "I don't have a family, my family is dead." He felt horror rise up in him, had he made Ted feel like this? Pushed him out some way? Maybe he'd been taking too much of the focus lately, he knew everyone had been worried...

"But, Teddy-" Ted's blank face shifted slightly, he was looking at James wildly, in desperation…

"You're in danger, you're in danger- you need to-" but he stopped suddenly as if struck. James blinked in confusion.

"I know, that's why you are here isn't it, to protect me?"

"Not safe," Teddy choked out, as if the words themselves pained him, "tell Harry-" but he stopped again, jumping to his feet, facing away from him. "James, leave."

"But, Ted, you are obviously not well, you need-"

"Leave," he grunted.

"What do you want me to tell Dad?" James said desperately.

"That it's pointless me being here. He's wasting his time by putting aurors at Hogwarts."

"But?" James started, frowning at his brother. He was upset, clearly his dad needed to send another auror, let Ted have a break, the pressure read killing him.

"Leave, Potter," James jumped up as though scalded. "Out," Ted said, leading him to the door. "Don't come back."

"But, Ted-" the door was shut, leaving James more confused and worried than ever.

James hadn't wanted to go straight back to the common room. He'd had too much to think about, so instead he sat by the lake, watching as the giant squid came and hovered by the lake's surface, sunning itself on the weak April beams.

He wrapped his arms around his knees, his head on top. Watching the water lap at the shore. He barely noticed the air becoming cool and the darkening sky.

"Me and your mother used to like sitting here," his father said, coming out of nowhere and making James jump.

"Dad?" He said in confusion, as his dad, who looked more pinched and anxious than he was the last time he saw him drew level with him, sharing a tired smile. James couldn't help but not notice that he was still in his Auror robes .

His dad sat down carefully on the damp ground, wiping his hands on his knees once he was settled. "What are you doing here, dad?"

Harry smiled at his son, before looking over the lake, "I feel we haven't talked as much as we used to lately," Harry said, not taking his eyes of the giant squid, "that's my fault too: I've been worried about you, James," he said softly.

James didn't quite know what to say, he wanted to be angry, to accuse his dad of not trusting him. But how could he when he could see how worried and scared his dad was? He didn't want to add to that.

"I've been worried about you, too." James said matter-of-factly. Harry smiled.

"That's supposed to be my job," Harry said ruefully, "I've never wanted you to have to deal with that."

"You can't protect me from everything, dad," James said, not noticing how tense his dad became at these words.

"No, I suppose I can't," he said wishfully.

"Dad, why are you here?"

Harry thought about lying, but he remembered how much he hated being lied to when he was James' age. How many problems that could have been avoided if he'd simply been told the truth… He couldn't do it to him, "Your mum told you about the threat against you, about why Ted is here?"

"You know she did," James said, remembering that conversation he overheard so long ago now.

"We were interviewing Reginald Atlas today, the man who-"

"Attacked Aunt Hermione and got his ass handed to him?" James said fiercely.

Harry laughed, "That's the one. Today we interviewed him, he said the leader of the group wants you."

"Why me?" James said, swallowing down any terror inside him. He was brave. He could be brave.

"To hurt me," Harry said scratching at his scar absently. Despite the fact it hadn't pained him in decades, it had become a nervous tick of his. "They are pretty sure they can get you," he stopped, scanning James' face. For what James didn't know, "Don't worry, Hogwarts is safe, the wards here are stronger than anywhere else," he said confidently. "You are safer here than at home." Although his dad spoke confidently, James could see that his dad wanted nothing more than to take him home, keep him with him and out of danger.

"What about Albus, and Lily?" James said fearfully.

"Oh I don't doubt that if they could get to them, they'd kill them too," Harry said harshly. James liked the fact that Harry was speaking to him like an adult, but it was a side to his dad that he rarely saw. The side that had seen too much, done too much.

"I'll protect them," James said suddenly, fiercely, a dragon rising inside him as he spoke the words. He knew it to be true. Just as his dad had once known he would lay his life down for his friends, he knew he would do it for his family. In a heartbeat, if it meant his siblings, his wonderful, brilliant siblings could survive.

Harry smiled, "I never doubted you would."

"I've been practising, me and Allie-" he stopped himself blushing. He wanted to be open with his dad, bit girl stuff? That was a bit too far. He looked up apprehensively, worried about what his dad might say.

"I don't need to know, James," Harry said laughing.

"Well, I'm better at defence than I've ever been, I've been getting E's," James said proudly, Harry smiled. James glowed at the pride in his father's face.

"That's really good."

"The only one I'm struggling with is the patronus charm," James confessed, "Zabini said that very few of us would manage it, still…"

"I always found that it was belief that you could do it that made all the difference," Harry said, tipping his head back as he spoke, James listened in rapt attention. "The intensity of your thoughts, your love, makes all the difference, I think." Harry said, "Of course Hermione would say that it's the power of the memory, and that's part of it, but magic is far more than the theory…"

"You should teach here instead of Zabini," James said darkly.

"That bad is he?" Harry laughed. James vigorously nodded.

"He's always giving me detentions! I don't even do anything, most of the time," he said indignantly. His father truly laughed now, head tipped back and shoulders shaking vigorously.

"Oh James," he said wiping at his eyes, "we did hear about the Frole incident, you know?"

James, red now, and angry, "That was a complete accident I tell you! I deny any involvement!"

"And the food fight?"

"That could have been anyone," James said, waving his hand, "you should have seen how vicious Lily was with the sausages."

"And the moat?" Harry asked.

"Well- oh- is mum mad?" He asked in a small voice, wondering how many angry letters his parents had been receiving, and realising for the first time just how many 'letter' worthy things he'd done of late.

"No," his father shook his head, "not at all," he tried to stop himself, but couldn't help but explain further. "We were worried about you, after Christmas, these letters, we'd rather get hundreds and you be happy than none and you be lonely and sad, James," Harry said softly, tears watered in James' eyes.

"Really?"

"Really," Harry said firmly. "Although, maybe now you could knock it on the head a bit?"

"Maybe," he teased, "maybe not."

"Hmm, your mum is being kind at the moment, but a few more letters and she'll be up here screaming bloody murder."

"I don't doubt it," James said, shuddering. "Dad," James started, then stopped, biting his lips

Harry quirked his eyebrow.

Should he tell him? Should he share his worries? He didn't want to get Ted into trouble… But he couldn't help but worry…

"Is Ted alright?" James said slowly, scanning his dad's face for a response. Harry's eyes flickered in surprise.

"I haven't heard any differently, Jim," Harry said, "is there something that you are worried about?"

"He just… He just doesn't seem himself Dad, I talked to him today, or tried to…"

Harry's face slipped into sympathy, "He's busy, and stressed, son. I'm sure that's all."

"I don't think it is, something is wrong," James said urgently, pleading with his father with his eyes- please believe me. He thought desperately.

Harry sagged, "Vic and he are having problems at the moment, I didn't like to say since it is no one's business but theirs," Harry sighed, "it's new to them, marriage, and it's harder than they thought. They are both busy; they are taking it out on each other."

James didn't know what he expected his father to say, but this wasn't it. His elder brother and cousin had a relationship that was enviable. Best friends all their lives, loving each other all that time. They knew each other better than anyone, their relationship had always been made on rock solid groundings. To hear that that base had shaken, cracked, was horrifying. If it could happen to them, it could happen to anyone. But still, James couldn't help but think there was more to it all… But, perhaps it was none of his business.

"He just seemed really upset," James muttered.

Harry frowned, "I'll have a chat with him, don't you worry. But I think you should give him some space. Knowing our Ted, he's probably embarrassed."

James nodded, poor Ted, he thought.

"There is another reason I'm here," his dad said sticking his hand inside his robes and removing a brown package. "With everything as it is, I wanted to have something that you could keep with you, so that if you were in danger, you could contact me." He unwrapped the package and showed James a mirror. Like one Maddy had in her makeup bag. It was a rather small mirror, it fit in the palm of his hand. "I took the liberty of making it unbreakable,"Harry said ruefully.

"A mirror?" James said, doubtfully making Harry chuckle.

"It's a two way mirror, I've got the other one, see?" Harry showed him an identical package still in his pocket. "Sirius gave me one when I was in my Fifth year," Harry said wistfully, eyes far away, "I never used it, I didn't want to risk Sirius' life- it sat in my trunk unused, no use to anyone…" He said sharply. "Don't repeat my mistake. I won't spy on you or invade your privacy- but please, please, keep it with you, which brings me to my second gift-" Harry didn't give James time to respond and pulled out of his pocket a little bag on a cord, long enough to go round his neck. "A moleskin purse, no one but the wearer can open it, I still wear mine," Harry said, lifting his matching one from underneath his robes, "you can keep the mirror in it, safe. And anything else you need."

James swallowed, taking both gifts from his father. What could he say? Thanks but no thanks? Or, 'that is the ugliest bag I've ever seen'? He nodded to his dad, "I promise to keep it with me." There was an air of finality to the words- he'd promised. He would not break his vow.

Harry sagged in relief. "Good, that's good." He looked at his watch, the battered old thing he'd had for years, "I have to go now, the train will be almost at the platform." He looked at James as though memorising his face. "I love you, James."

"Love you," James said awkwardly, the words feeling weird in his mouth. Still, it was the truth.

"Look after yourself, Jim, and write more often- we miss you," they hugged close, James' head rested on his dad's chest in their sitting position, he could hear the thump of his heart under his robes. His dad stood, and with a wave, set back off towards the castle. James clutched the bag and mirror towards him and watched his dad fade into the distance.


9th April- Hogwarts

James Potter

It had been extremely strange being at Hogwarts during Easter, stranger still that his brother and sister weren't there with him. Still, he wouldn't lie- he'd had a pretty great two weeks, all things considered. He'd spent two weeks either lazing with his friends munching chocolate or with Alison, walking the grounds, hand in hand; in the kitchens, sharing a romantic meal; and simply spending time in each other's company with no watchful eyes, or homework, or anything of the sort. It had been bliss.

He couldn't believe how lucky he felt to be with Alison. It felt like he was the luckiest person on earth because he got to listen to her rambles, her interests and her dreams of the future. He never wanted to be anywhere but with her. He had never understood that it was possible to love someone this much, to enjoy their company and, of course, their mind-blowing kisses. Every touch from her was a firework, every little caress, special in their own way. No one could burst their bubble.

One thing tried to. Despite his happiness and newfound contentment, James couldn't fully relax: he was too worried about Ted. Of course, people kept telling him to leave it, that Ted was a big boy who'd sort it himself… But James couldn't give up. He'd tried, two or three times each week, to talk to Ted. One time he stood there for an hour, knocking until his fist bled. But Ted stubbornly kept the door shut, effectively pushing James out of his life. He was full of indecision… Was it best to leave him or keep trying? He didn't know.

One selfish thought did sneak it's way into his consciousness, however hard he tried to push it away: if Ted was locked in his room, who was protecting him?

He'd felt guilty the first moment it snuck into his head, wanting to scratch at his face like the thought itself was a terrible disease. When the guilt and unease had become too much, Alison had suggested that they continued with defence, even though they were up to date with everything. Alison had taken him out beyond Hagrid's and duelled with him. She was even more amazing when duelling, she was lethal. Her footsteps were beyond light, her reflexes faster than the best Quidditch players… She was mesmerizing. James had never realised before then that duelling could be sexy. But it could be, it bloody well could be.

She'd helped him train, saying, in the unlikely event anything happened, at least he would be able to fight until help arrived. She flattened him every time, he sometimes only lasted seconds. She cackled at him as she disarmed him, and he laughed back. She never made him feel like he was rubbish at duelling; it just felt like a game.

But now everyone else was coming back to Hogwarts and the private bubble they'd been living in had collapsed in on itself. Time alone would be precious now, and near impossible with the run up to end of year exams and the Quidditch season coming to a close.

James stood at the entrance to the castle, holding a hand above his eyes to help him see in the blinding afternoon light. Finally, the carriages arrived and he jumped up and down waving with Fred as they all pulled in.

"Roxie, little Roxie!" Fred called out at his sister, who upon seeing him, tried to draw her wand before her friend slapped her hand away. "Oh my dearest, dearest sister!" He mockingly cried, pulling her in a tight hug, ignoring her fists that pummelled his back.

James saw his family before they saw him and he waved rather stupidly with a ridiculous smile. It was the longest they had ever gone without seeing each other. Lily saw him first, dropping her trunk as she ran up the steps and into his arms.

"We missed you! It was so weird, and quiet, and no one ate my chocolate, or broke my computer!" She cried, laughing loudly as he tickled her sides, "get off, weirdo!"

"'Missed you too, Lily-pie." He looked towards Albus who was grumpily pulling both his own and his sisters trunks with a face you would expect from a baby sucking a lemon.

"Lily, this is your trunk. Not mine. See the initials, LLP, not ASP, got it? I'm not carrying it for you anymore, absolutely ridiculous," Albus grumbled dropping her trunk with a thud, followed by the thud of his own as he massaged his hands which had turned red from the effort.

"Oh thank you! Brother mine," she laughed, jumping to her trunk and yanking it into her hand.

"James," Albus greeted, with a straight face, "didn't miss you at all."

"What!" James said in outrage, "this is disgusting, outrageous! I've never been so hurt in my life. Here I was, stood here, patiently, waiting for my beloved siblings, while my own brother didn't miss me! An outrage, a scandal! I'll certainly be writing to the Prophet!"

"You great, big idiot," Albus said shaking his head fondly, hugging him quickly and letting go before anyone saw. He went to grab his case but James interfered, with a lightweight charm on both, he hovered them up the stairs in front of them and tossed them both a pleased smile as they both shook their heads. "Never change, James," Albus laughed as James enthusiastically dumped the trunks with all the others in the entrance way.

"Any gossip?" James asked Lily, as Albus scuttled into the great hall to find Scorpius. Lily's eyes lit up and over dinner she filled him in with everything he'd missed (and hadn't). During dessert, Alison pushed herself in beside him, giving him a kiss on the cheek that had him blushing, especially as he saw Lily kick her legs up and down like a small child in her excitement.

"Hi, Lily," Alison said carefully. She needn't have been worried though, as Lily pounced on her, telling her everything and anything throughout the rest of the meal. James glowed, this was perfect; life was perfect.

The weeks passed blissfully, full of chess and quidditch and far too much homework.

James took his seat in Defence Against the Dark Arts, sitting near the front beside Alison. Fred and his partner Khalid Mahmood sat beside them.

Zabini fluttered into the room, frowning dispassionately as he often did around the class, checking everyone was with their partners. Every couple of weeks, people would try and sneak into different partners. He always caught them.

"Last week's essays were atrocious . Absolutely dreadful. It was a waste of my evening marking them, anyone that wants to, go find me a time turner so I can get back those precious hours of my time. Anyone below an A will rewrite the essay in their dinner time and in your evenings until you are up to scratch. At this rate, most of you will be failing this year and finding yourself kicked off this course for next year. It is beyond appalling that sixth year students are turning in such drivel," he lamented, furiously as he started smacking papers down in front of people. Shocked eyes followed him, daring not to read their score. Alison and James' were slapped down. They shared a look. James flipped them both over to see a near 'O' in the corner. His mouth dropped open. An O? An outstanding? What…

"I knew you'd do it eventually!" Alison said happily.

"But, you didn't even help me?" He whispered in shock. She grinned at him, looking round the room at the smattering of disappointed faces.

"You've worked hard all year, you are over that block. You are just as good as anyone else, James. You deserve that," she pointed at the score as she spoke, grinning.

"And you deserve a medal for getting me here," he said in wonder, staring down at the little letter. He flipped to the back and read the comment with terror.

"Good effort Potter. This is a well structured essay and you have used what we have discussed in class as well as outside sources. In future, be careful with generalising some comments and ensure you are using up to date references."

"Yes!" Whooped Fred suddenly, "EE! In your face Zabini!" James shared a quick look with Alison, this would not end well for Fred.

"Mr Weasley, since you find it necessary to gloat about your achievements you can spend your evening with me cleaning the cupboards," Zabini drawled without turning around. "And I do not see why it is 'in my face' seeing I awarded you the grade?" With that he swept to the back of class.

James' mouth opened in surprise, he could barely control his mirth as he watched Fred blink in confusion, so rarely challenged for his comments.

"Serves you right Weasley," Mahmood said, folding his essay to place in his bag and taking out his book and parchment, his dark eyes carefully scanning the instructions on the board.

"Khalid," Fred said in exasperation, "how many times do I have to tell you to call me Fred? I even answer to Freddie. Sometimes, OI YOU! Come on, Khal-my-pal!"

"As I've said Weasley, only my friends call me Khalid," Mahmood said in exasperation ducking his head and trying to ignore Fred in increasing desperation. He seemed to almost be saying 'please, please, leave me alone.' James rolled his eyes at Fred's hysterics.

"But I am your friend," Fred sulked, everyone in the near vicinity rolled their eyes again.

"Is he always this annoying?" Alison whispered, looking sympathetically to the tortured Mahmood. "Poor Khalid, he's such a laid back guy normally, he looks like he wants to kill someone," she said sadly as Mahmood looked homicidally across the classroom.

"It is a Fred speciality," James said, shaking his head as he pulled his textbook from his bag, turning to the correct page, "he's been working on it for years. If you let him know he's annoying you it just gets worse. If Mahmood ignored him, it'd be alright. He thrives on attention, does our Fred."

Alison also opened her book absently, "Do you want to go to Hogesmede next weekend?"

James frowned, "I better not, with things as they are I don't think it's wise to leave the castle. I don't want to invite danger."

"How very wise," Alison said with a grin, "I really fancy going, so we can do something on Sunday instead, unless you have practise."

"Sounds fab," James said, "keep an eye on Lily and Albus will you? I'm going to try to get them to stay… But you know what they are like."

"Course, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to try Ted again, and if that fails I'm bringing out the big guns- Vic," James said with determination.

"Potter, Higgs! Do I need to give you detention as well?" Zabini warned from the back of the class where he was helping Greengrass and Maddy.

"No Profesor," they chorused, ducking their heads down towards their battered textbooks. Their eyes met. They couldn't help but grin like idiots.

23rd April 2022 -Hogwarts

James Potter

He'd tried Ted, yet again, to no avail. The door had remained closed and in the end in a fit of fury he'd kicked at the door. It had made a loud thud and he'd sweared horribly as he hopped on his other leg. But still, no Ted.

James had given up not long after, and after a moment's debate he hurried to the Owlery. Vic could help him, maybe she could come and talk with him face-to-face.

He'd penned the note hurriedly and attached it to his owl, Gilly. She was a beautiful tawny owl, and he gave her a treat and stroke before she took off.

He watched her glide away and headed straight towards the steps, stopping when he heard harsh voices. He stood, feeling as though electricity was running down his back.

"Listen to me, they'll be here before the anniversary, it'll be then that we strike. Those mudbloods and blood traitors won't know what hit them when we come crashing down- oh don't look at me like that Harper," the voice said harshly, echoing up the stone staircase. There was nowhere to hide, but James was beyond sure being caught listening to this conversation was about to cause him painful trouble.

"I agree that we need to change the order, Jon-" James realised with a sick jolt that Jon must be Jonathon, Jonathon Higgs. Alison's brother. "But-" Harper continued, "I do not have the same thirst for blood," he continued, he seemed shocked, at the conversation? At himself? James didn't know. Jame glanced around again. There was no escape. Why didn't his dad give him his invisibility cloak? James' eyes locked on the small triangular window.

'No,' he thought. He looked around the room again, but his eyes once more found the tiny window just big enough for him to shuffle out of. 'Fuck.' He dove for the window, clawing his way out and onto the ledge. It was a narrow rim, the width of his foot, and it ran to the roof, he shuffled out of sight of the window, trembling on the ledge. He had to climb up, onto the roof above the window. It was his safest bet. He quickly hoisted himself up just before the boys reached the Owlery. Shaking, sweating and determined not to look down, he closed his eyes.

He'd lost track of the conversation due to his rapidly beating heart and the blood rush in his ears, but he could follow them again.

"She said the safest contact was through a letter, I need to let him know."

"What about your sister? Isn't she with Potter now?" Harper replied.

"If she gets in our way, she'll go the same way as the rest of them. She's chosen her side," Higgs said harshly. James could feel the shock in Harper's voice as he replied.

"But- but, Jon, she's your sister." James numbly rubbed at his face, looking out to Hogsmeade where his own sister was. He felt sick.

"She stopped being my sister the second she laid with Potter," he said in disdain, "she is nothing to me, nothing but a waste of air."

"Jon-"

"Stood questioning me, Harper," he snarled viciously and James heard a squeak coming from the other boy and he felt pity despite himself. "It's all in place, you either stand with us- or against us."

"But the Auror?" James' heart jumped.

"He will be dealt with, the werewolf spawn will be crucial for her plans for Potter."

James licked at his lips, the plan for him? Why would they have a plan for him? What was Higgs doing?

"The teachers?"

"I've said it's dealt with, now leave it."

"But how will we-"

"Stop," he interrupted, "someone is coming, we need to go."

With that the voices stopped, a black owl was released and they left the Owlery. James waited a few minutes before climbing back down and through the window, surprising two second-year Ravenclaws. The boy looked at him in horror.

"But, you-" the girl stuttered, her dark face screwed up in confusion.

"Bit of light sunbathing," James said airily, "best spot in the castle, and now, my dears, I'll take my leave," he bowed theatrically before escaping down the stairs; his heart still thudding ten to the dozen. Good god, he climbed out of a window. What would Albus say?

He returns to the common room in a daze. What could they be planning? They said something about an anniversary. Next weekend it would be the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. There was a memorial, as there was every year, at the Ministry.

They must be planning to attack the Ministry. Surely that must be it? They talked about making Potter pay, his dad would be there… Maybe they didn't want him at all. But it didn't feel right, it didn't make any sense to him. Who was he writing to? Surely, his father? But… James had told his father months ago about Higgs, he'd have investigated them by now… The mirror felt heavy in the pouch on his chest.

He opened it and took the mirror out, turning it in his hands. What if he was wrong? He frowned down at the mirror before a small voice whispered from the depths of his head, "but what if you're not?" It hissed.

He couldn't dither. He raced up the stairs to his bedroom, shutting and locking the door. He sat down on the bed and murmured, "Dad."

He stared at his own shocked and pale expression before the mirror swirled, the colour skating round before it was replaced by the worried frown of his father. "James?"

"Dad," he paused looking into his father's concerned eyes, "I think Higgs might have something to do with the non-conformists," he said. His dad's eyebrows raised higher.

"Who?" He said in confusion looking around to find a parchment and quill, going into auror mode.

"Higgs, I heard his son, Jonathon, talking in the Owlery. I think something is going to happen at the anniversary."

"Slow down," Harry said confidently, "and start at the beginning." James filled his dad in on the conversation he overheard. His dad frowned. "You did the right thing in telling me, James," he assured. "I'll look into it right now, Don't worry James."

"Dad!" James said desperately, causing his dad to frown again,"stay safe."

"I'll try," he said grimly, "look after yourself, be careful."

"Will be." And then, as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.