Monday, March 13, 1978
"Mr. Potter? Will you wait a moment?"
James hesitated in the doorway of the classroom, then turned and strode to McGonagall's desk.
"Did you want to compliment my perfect spell again? I know, I'm your star student," James said, running a hand through his hair and beaming at her.
"That was not my intention, Potter." McGonagall rolled her eyes. "I wanted to make sure you are reminding students to sign up with me if they want to stay at Hogwarts over the Easter break."
Her eyes darted to the door, then she reached under a textbook and pulled out a folded note. She slid the note across the desk to him, careful not to look at it or otherwise acknowledge its existence.
"What—"
"Make sure to remind students about signing up to stay here over the holiday," she said, flashing him a meaningful look before nodding at the door.
It was a clear dismissal, so he pocketed the note and hurried out into the corridor. He knew his friends weren't that far ahead, but the note weighed heavy in his pocket, so he ducked behind a suit of armor and pulled out the parchment. His breath hitched as he unfolded it to read the loopy cursive.
Dear Mr. Potter,
If I could have just a few minutes of your time, I have a proposition for you that I think you'll be interested to hear. If it's agreeable to you, please meet me at 8:00 tonight in the forest. The first clearing just off the path should do just fine (I trust you know the one I mean).
See you tonight.
Dumbledore
P.S. Tell no one and bring no one.
As soon as James finished reading, the parchment caught fire. Bright blue flames devoured the note, leaving behind only tiny fragments of ash and a slight tingling on James's fingers. Baffled, James stared at the remains of the parchment for so long that an unobservant first year plowed straight into him. Muttering an apology, he brushed the ash onto his trousers and hurried to lunch to join his friends.
"What did McGonagall want?" Lily asked as James slid in beside her at the Gryffindor table.
"Just reminding me about students signing up for the Easter holidays," he said. He poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice, spilling half of it on the table in his distracted state. Over and over his mind returned to the note. Why does Dumbledore want to meet me, and why do we have to go all the way to the Forbidden Forest?
"You okay, Prongs?" Sirius asked, frowning at him through a mouthful of food.
James nodded and began filling his plate. "Fine." The parchment lay heavy on his mind, and he longed to confess its contents to Sirius and Lily and the rest of them, but he forced himself to wait. There were too many eyes and ears here, too much opportunity to be overheard.
As soon as they left the Great Hall, he beckoned for them to follow him into a secret passage that they often used as a shortcut to Gryffindor Tower. In the dim, stone passageway, James told them about the note's mysterious contents and its rapid self-destruction.
"What the fuck?" Sirius asked, his eyes narrowed in bewilderment. "Why do you have to meet in the forest? And what's this proposition?"
"And what could be so sensitive that he made the note burn itself?" Lily asked, her hand resting on James's shoulder.
"That does feel rather ominous, doesn't it?" Remus mused.
Peter frowned and tilted his head sideways to look at James. "Maybe it's some sort of Head Boy thing?"
"Don't be stupid, Wormtail," Sirius said as he leaned against the rough stone wall. "Then why wouldn't he ask Evans to come, too? And why couldn't they just talk in his office?" He scowled and shoved his hands into his pockets.
"I'm guessing you have an opinion about this, Black?" Mary asked, her tone light as she leaned against the wall beside him.
"Well, it all seems a bit bloody dramatic. But Dumbledore's always been sort of like that, hasn't he?" There was a hint of contempt in his voice as he rolled his eyes.
"You're one to talk, Black."
He heaved an irritated sigh. "Dramatic was the wrong word. Maybe showy is more what I mean? I'm just saying, he seems the type to make this thing a big mystery when it's really nothing that important."
James ran a hand through his hair as he thought about the postscript. He had already ignored the first part of the warning — but surely Dumbledore couldn't expect him to keep something so exciting from his friends?
"I guess we'll have to just wait and see," he said, although he wasn't sure he would be able to wait until 8:00. "Come on, we'd better get going to Defense."
After Quidditch practice, Bubbles and Seven waited for him to walk back to the castle, so he had no choice but to stroll along beside them. He listened to them chat about their prospects for the final match of the season, making occasional noises of agreement while his brain churned out ways to ditch them. When they reached the fifth floor he managed to get away by telling them he was going to visit the prefects' bathroom. As soon as they were out of sight, he pulled on the cloak and hurried back down to the Entrance Hall and out into the night.
The grounds were deserted as he jogged over the icy patches of snow. A light breeze shook the bare limbs as James reached the forest and made his way along the path until he reached the clearing Dumbledore had described. His eyes scanned the snow-covered ground and low, scrubby bushes for a sign of Dumbledore. Something moved at the edge of his vision, but it was only a branch knocking against another tree in the wind. There was nobody there, and James felt suddenly foolish.
A moment passed, and James considered returning to the castle. Then he blinked and Dumbledore emerged from between two trees, his beard bright in the light from James's wand.
"Hello, Mr. Potter," he said, extending his hand to James. Somehow this made James feel even more foolish, but he shook the headmaster's hand all the same. "Thank you for taking the time to meet me tonight."
"Er, you're welcome," James said, reigning in his curiosity.
"I trust you had no problem sneaking out here tonight? I hope it wasn't too unconventional to meet out here. Something told me this wouldn't be your first time in the forest, although it is of course technically considered out of bounds for students."
He winked, and James smiled uneasily as a jolt of panic ripped through him. Had Dumbledore somehow found out how James and his friends spent every full moon? James's heart began to race. He had become so accustomed to being an Animagus that he sometimes forgot that it was against the law, but now that fact was glaring and terrifyingly unavoidable.
"I apologize for the secrecy," Dumbledore went on, and James wrenched his attention back to the headmaster before his wild thoughts could run away with him. "I'm sure it seemed a bit over-the-top, but I assure you I wouldn't bother with these measures if they were not absolutely necessary." There was a hint of mischief in his smile as he added, "Although I have to say, that self-destructing spell has a certain pizzazz, don't you think?"
"It does," James said. A sense of unreality tinged the entire scene, and James wondered if any of this was really happening. The thin beam of wand light illuminating the inky blackness of the forest, Dumbledore's sweeping robes, the way he had appeared seemingly out of nowhere – all of it had a dreamlike quality, and James half-expected to wake up next to Lily with the first hint of dawn peeking through the window.
"You are probably impatient to know why I've invited you out here, and are no doubt silently cursing me as a long-winded old man."
James started to argue, but Dumbledore held up a hand and he fell silent.
"Have a seat," he said, waving his wand and producing two squashy purple armchairs. James sat down while Dumbledore moved his wand in a circle that produced a shimmery orb that surrounded the clearing. As James watched, it disappeared from sight, but the wind and rustling leaves were now muffled as though Dumbledore had shut an invisible window.
"Now," he began, taking the chair beside James and treating him to an indulgent smile, "Professor McGonagall tells me she caught you and your friends dueling the other night."
"Professor, we were—" James began, but again Dumbledore held up a hand to silence him.
"I haven't brought you here to reprimand you. Professor McGonagall was actually quite impressed by what she saw."
A warm glow of pride spread through James despite the absurdity of the situation.
"She was so impressed, in fact, that she mentioned your name to me and suggested you might be a useful member of a group I'm working on assembling."
James ran a hand through his hair and frowned at Dumbledore. "What group?" he asked, concealing a twinge of irritation. If this was about some student dueling group, why in the name of Merlin did the headmaster have to drag him all the way out here?
"She also mentioned that there was an incident at the start of term during a prefects' meeting." Dumbledore went on, steepling his long fingers in front of his face. "Apparently you and Miss Evans shouted at several of the other students for expressing political beliefs that were unacceptable to you?"
James's face burned. "I'm sorry, Professor. We did apologize, and since then it's been strictly business during meetings. It was just—"
"Again, Mr. Potter, I did not invite you out here to discipline you. In fact, I agree with you."
James stared at him, astonished. "You do?"
Dumbledore nodded, his long beard swinging. "I do. The idea that any of us can sit idly by without intervening simply because it doesn't directly affect us — this whole 'it's not our fight' ideology — is harmful and quite frankly, offensive. It is everyone's fight, and it does affect all of us, because it's our responsibility as human beings to ensure that everyone has basic rights, but also because sooner or later, blood status will no longer protect people if they refuse to subscribe to the bigoted ideology that the Death Eaters embrace. Was that the gist of your argument?"
"Well, yeah, basically." Dumbledore's statement mimicked Remus's furious remarks during that meeting almost word-for-word, although the headmaster was much more skilled at discussing the subject without losing his composure.
Dumbledore crossed his legs and leaned forward in his chair. "So it appears that you have a lot of talent, as well as a desire to change the injustices in our world. I'd like to offer you an opportunity to do just that."
"What opportunity?"
The wind tugged at Dumbledore's beard as he fixed James with a piercing stare. His blue eyes made James feel seen and exposed; he shifted in his seat and ran a hand through his hair as he waited for Dumbledore's response.
"I've formed a group of like-minded people in hopes that we can work together to stamp out the sort of ignorance and hatred that has led to the deaths of countless innocent people over the last few years. It's still relatively new, but we're growing, and I think you'd make an excellent addition, if you'll agree to join us." His manner was calm as he folded his hands in his lap and delivered this invitation, yet James found himself on the edge of his seat, his heart pounding. Dumbledore had barely finished speaking before words were tumbling out of James's mouth.
"Of course I'll join. What do I have to do? When do I start?"
He wanted to jump out of his seat, to sprint through the forest and up to the castle to tell the others. This was what he had been longing for, what they had all been longing for, when they bemoaned the state of things and the feelings of helplessness and yearned to do something. This was that elusive something, and the details didn't matter as long as it was a tangible way to work toward bringing down those who wanted to destroy everything he held dear.
Dumbledore held up a hand, and the gesture reminded James to take a deep breath and hear the whole proposition before rushing off like a child.
"You'll have to finish school before you can officially join," Dumbledore said, grinning when James made an indignant sound. "It may not seem important now, Mr. Potter, but you'll want your N.E.W.T.s when this is all over."
"Yeah, of course," James said, hardly aware of what he was saying. Energy coursed through James, humming through his brain and vibrating through his limbs. This was what he had been waiting for, what he needed to get him through the long, draining days full of dismal news. His fingers itched for a Snitch or a Quaffle to give him something to focus on— anything to channel the restless urge for movement, for action.
"You should know that this is no small commitment," Dumbledore warned, his face grave. "I'd be lying if I said this won't be dangerous."
James shrugged, a confident grin spreading across his face. "I'm not worried."
Dumbledore didn't smile. "You should be. This isn't the same as one of your pranks, where the worst outcome is detention, or taking a Bludger for a teammate and breaking your arm. People are going to die in this war – people have already died in this war, and if you join, you'll need to be ready to give your life for this cause if needed. Are you willing to do that?"
James didn't have to think about his answer. He had decided ages ago that he was willing to die to protect Lily, his friends, and the things he believed in. At first the thought had terrified him, but now he had accepted it as a normal part of life, the same way he had accepted that fresh emotional turmoil could be lurking in the pages of each issue of The Daily Prophet.
"I am," he said, and the words filled him with a grim satisfaction.
"Don't decide now," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. "Give it some serious thought. This isn't something to be taken lightly."
"I'll think about it if you like," James said, crossing his arms over his chest. "But there's no way I'm not joining. I've got to. I couldn't stand to let other people risk their lives while I just sit around on my arse — I'd go mad."
Dumbledore nodded. "I thought you'd say that. Still, give it some consideration."
James ran a hand through his hair, then paused halfway through as a thought occurred to him.
"Professor, are you going to ask my friends to join as well? Because they're just as good at dueling as I am, and McGonagall can vouch for that."
Peter's indecisive movements and predictable spell choices filled his mind, but he pushed the thought aside. He was making progress, and if it came down to it, James could look out for him.
"And they all believe in the cause as strongly as I do," he continued. "You're going to ask them, aren't you?"
Dumbledore studied him for a minute, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips.
"Mr. Potter, I—" he began.
"You know what? No," James said, holding up a hand and cutting Dumbledore off. "I don't mean to be rude, but it's got to be all of us. If they don't join, neither do I."
Dumbledore watched him, an expression of mild surprise on his face, and then a laugh burst from his lips.
"Your loyalty to your friends is admirable, Mr. Potter. You may extend my invitation to your friends. Please let them know I would be glad to have every one of them join, but I'll also understand if they'd prefer not to make that sort of commitment."
"They will," James said, unable to imagine joining without every single one of his friends. "We're all in this together."
Dumbledore smiled. "Still, give it some thought, and advise your friends to do the same. If any of them wish to speak to me personally about this, get a note to Professor McGonagall, and I'll find a way to meet with them without it being conspicuous. Otherwise, I'll seek you out in a few days for your answer."
"The answer will be yes," James said, a stubborn note to his voice.
Dumbledore nodded as he rose from his chair and Vanished it. James did the same, then stood in the near darkness looking at the headmaster, marveling at the entire conversation.
"I hope so."
Dumbledore held out a hand, and James shook it. The gesture seemed somehow momentous and important as they stood surrounded by trees in the near-darkness, the only sounds their own breathing and the muffled rustling of the wind in the trees.
"Thank you for meeting me, James." His first name sounded strange on the headmaster's lips. "I'll see you soon, I expect."
He strode away, his cloak swishing with each step and his boots crunching on the patches of snow. James stood there replaying the conversation in his head until Dumbledore's footsteps faded away, then he took off running through the trees, anxious to return to the castle and share the exchange with his friends.
When he reached the common room, he found everyone still gathered around the fire, although Seven was half-asleep resting her head on Remus's shoulder and Peter was snoring with his head slumped sideways on his armchair.
"I've got to talk to you lot upstairs," he said without preamble, giving Peter's shoulder a brisk shake.
"Do you mean me as well?" Seven asked, stifling a yawn.
"No, I'm sorry. It's not personal, Seven, but it's got to just be the others. Just for a few minutes, and then Remus can come back down and get you so you don't miss whichever lovely pajamas Peter decides to wear today."
He didn't fail to notice the hurt that rippled across her face, but he was in too much of a hurry to do more than flash her an apologetic smile before herding the others up to the dormitory. Once they were all inside, settling on the floor or on one of the beds, he locked the door and cast a Muffliato, then put on some music for good measure.
"Right," he said, watching their eager faces as he stood in front of them, too excited to sit down. "We have to keep this quiet, obviously, but the reason Dumbledore wanted to meet up was to ask me, or rather, us, to join a group he's put together to fight the Death Eaters."
At first his words were met by silence punctuated only by "Mother and Child Reunion." Then everyone spoke at once.
"When do we start?" Sirius asked, his eyes full of the same feverish energy that coursed through James.
"Did he say what exactly we would be doing?" Lily's face was set with determination as her fingers traced the necklace around her neck. "And who else is he asking to join?"
Remus stared at James, uncertainty clouding his features. "He wants all of us to join?"
"I don't really know much more," James replied, "but he definitely wants all of us once we've finished school. He's going to come find me in a few days to get our answer, but it's a yes, right? This is what we've all been waiting for, something we can actually do instead of feeling helpless and frustrated all the time."
Lily smiled and crossed the room to stand beside James. "But you didn't ask him for any more details?" she said, taking his hand.
"No, I was just excited to come back and tell you about it," he said with a touch of impatience. "I'm sure he'll tell us more when we need to know. Do the details honestly matter?"
"Not to me," Sirius said, shrugging. "If you're in, I'm in."
"Me too," Lily said.
"We're all in," James said, scanning his friends' faces. "Aren't we?"
"Of course we are," Peter said, beaming at him.
"Moony?"
Remus picked at his cuticle and didn't reply for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "Yeah. If Dumbledore's sure."
James waved his hand to dismiss Remus's doubts. "Of course he's sure."
Sirius reached out and tugged one of Mary's curls. "Macdonald?"
She was silent for so long that James thought she wasn't going to answer. Finally she brushed a strand of hair out of her face and shrugged. "Yeah, alright."
James released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, and a grin spread across his face. "Excellent. Can you believe this is all because McGonagall caught us dueling and was impressed? Moony, I suppose you could go and get Seven. I wish she could join, too, but Dumbledore made it pretty clear we've got to be done with school. What should we tell her we were talking about, if she asks? And then what about–"
"Here." Lily pressed something into his hand; his fingers closed around the Snitch before he registered what he was holding. He released it, letting it fly just above his head before snatching it out of the air, then smiled at Lily.
"You were getting a bit…" She widened her eyes and waved her hands around with wild, frantic motions.
"Sorry." He opened his hand again, then made a grab for the Snitch with his left hand. "I'm just excited."
"I know." Her green eyes locked onto his, full of nervous anticipation and another emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on. "Me too." She sat down on his bed and patted the mattress beside her. "Come on, bring your Snitch and sit down, and tell me everything Dumbledore said."
Later he lay beside her in the dark, his thoughts whirling too fast to fall asleep. The dormitory was quieter than usual, and the silence was stifling. James was halfway out of bed to go read in the common room when he heard Lily stir and felt her hand on his arm.
"Where are you going?" she whispered.
He got back under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. "I can't sleep."
"Too excited?" Her lips brushed his ear, and her breath was warm against his skin.
"Yeah." He pulled her closer, marveling at how fragile she felt in his arms. "It's just such a relief to have an actual plan, you know?"
"Yeah, it is." She ran her hands through his hair, her fingernails massaging his scalp.
There was a slight tension in her body that didn't ease even when he rubbed slow, gentle circles on her back. He kissed her forehead, then leaned close to her ear and whispered, "It's okay to be scared, Evs."
"You're not." Her voice was full of wonder and affection rather than accusation.
He took a moment to assess his feelings, reaching down deep for any hints of fear stirring below the surface, but he found only frenzied excitement.
"No, I'm not," he admitted, finding her hand in the dark and giving it a squeeze. "Maybe I should be scared, and maybe the fear will come once the novelty has worn off, but right now I'm just so fucking excited to be able to actually do something. What scared me was worrying that something would happen to someone I care about while I'm safe at school, writing Potions essays and playing Quidditch while there's a bloody war happening out there. Now that I have an actual plan, it's not so bad."
"It doesn't scare you what Dumbledore said about being willing to die for this?" There was a slight quaver in her voice. James cupped her face, trailing his thumb along her jawline. Their faces were so close that their noses brushed.
"I'm not scared. I'd die for you and wouldn't think twice about it."
He heard a sharp intake of breath as her hand tightened around his.
"But this is bigger than me," she protested.
"It is, but it isn't." He traced the curve of her lips, then closed the distance between them to kiss her, tasting a lingering trace of her toothpaste. "Of course I care about all of this on principle, but really it all comes down to you. I want to do this because it kills me that anyone would see you as anything less than the incredibly talented, intelligent witch that you are just because your parents are Muggles. You make it real for me."
"James…" The slight quaver was now a full tremble, and as she rested her forehead against his shoulder, a hot tear splashed against his skin.
"It doesn't matter, though," he continued, wiping away a tear from her cheek. "I'm not going to die, because I assume you would cry, and I hate seeing you cry."
She gave a muffled laugh and sniffled. "But you won't see me cry because you'll be dead."
"Don't be realistic, Evans. I'm trying to be romantic here." He kissed away the rest of her tears and held her, stroking her hair until her breathing became slow and relaxed.
"It's going to be okay," he whispered. "We have each other, no matter what. We're in this together, all of us. I won't let anything happen to you, or to me, or to any of us, alright?" He kissed the bridge of her nose, his lips grazing the freckles that dusted her fair skin although he couldn't see them in the darkness. "I love you."
She sighed and pressed herself even closer to him. "I love you, too. Even though you're absolutely mad."
"It's part of my charm, along with my delightfully untidy hair and my irresistible Quidditch muscles."
"I never said I couldn't resist them," she said, dipping her hand lower to caress the taut muscles of his stomach.
"You don't have to. I can just tell." He kissed her once more, then settled back against his pillow. "Let's get some sleep so you're not grumpy tomorrow."
James fell asleep, grateful that for the time being at least, Lily was warm and content, wrapped in the safety of his arms.