A word to clarify everyone: I uploaded the wrong file by mistake, and just realized a few hours ago. I was very sleepy, and wasn't meant to update at all, but for some reason a part of me thought it was a good idea to stay up at night and click things withouth thinking. I'm very sorry, thank you to one of the reviews that pointed it out, chapter 10 is longer than the previous version and I'm somewhat satisfied by it now. Chapter 11 is still being written; I haven't finished it yet but I will soon. Again, I'm very sorry to everyone who was bothered by this.

Chapter Nine: Hogsmeade

News that James Potter was going out with Lily Evans seemed to interest a great many people at Hogwarts. He did nothing to quell the rumours – they were, after all, true – but he didn't exactly advertise it either, something that Lily seemed to appreciate.

James left the Hospital Wing after a single night, which was a new record, he mused to himself. Lily and Sirius escorted him down to breakfast, filling him in on what he'd missed at the usual afterparty (Remus had gotten himself so drunk he'd tried to kiss McGonagall after she'd told them off).

"And what'd McGonagall say?" asked James, trying not to laugh as the image formed in his mind.

"Oh, you know," smirked Lily, "Something along the lines of Mr Lupin get a hold of yourself this instant or I will be giving you a detention."

"She's lying, mate," whispered Sirius loudly as they turned into a first-floor corridor. "McGonagall sort of screamed at him. Moony hasn't looked the same since."

They entered the Great Hall's double doors and sat themselves down at the Gryffindor table. Peter was comforting Remus, who was looking sulky and depressed (well, more so than usual, conceded James) as he stabbed his pancakes with surprising vindictiveness. James thought he saw McGonagall flash his friend a warning look when she strode past them, and he bit his tongue to keep from laughing as Remus hid behind his pile of food. All that day he seemed to be avoiding McGonagall's eye, and still looked quite embarrassed by that evening when the 7th-year Gryffindors sat by the fire in the Gryffindor common room, working on their Defence Against the Dark Arts essay. They were still on dragons, even though it was early November.

The next ten minutes were filled by Lily's voice as she read her essay aloud to them, by which time James was starting to feel quite sleepy. His hand ached from writing so much and he had to ask Lily to repeat a few times.

"What was that, Lils?"

Lily glared at him. "As I've said for the third time now, James, dragon chicks usually start to breathe fire at the age of six months…"

And so the night went on. After they were finished with their dragon essays, Lily insisted they work on their Animation Charms, to which most of their little group groaned. She gave them all the evil eye, and James, resigned, took out his wand.

A weeping table, a shivering window and a carpet that danced the Salsa later, James and Remus left the common room to patrol the school.

"I'm not entirely sure this will work, Pads," murmured Remus on Wednesday night, eyeing his fellow Marauder uneasily.

"Nonsense, Moony, of course this'll work," said Sirius impatiently, scanning the Marauder's Map.

They stood just out of sight of the Slytherin common room, hiding under James's Invisibility Cloak, waiting for Avery to come walking by them. According to the Map, he was alone in Slughorn's office, and, in Sirius's opinion, very, very vulnerable. He wished Wormtail were there with them, but he was sleeping soundly in the dormitory, and Sirius wasn't one to wake people up.

"Remind me again what James said about this?" asked Remus.

Sirius waved a hand idly. "He didn't say anything. I didn't tell him."

Remus glared at him. "Padfoot, you take his Invisibility Cloak without his permission, and now you're telling me he doesn't know about this?"

"As far as I'm concerned, it's our Invisibility Cloak now," said Sirius.

"That's not the point!"

Sirius glanced back at his friend, exasperated. "Moony, Avery's in detention for attempted murder. The murderee also happens to be James, in case you've forgotten…"

"I haven't forgotten," said Remus crossly. "I just think that fighting violence with violence isn't the best way to resolve this."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, you can go back to the dormitory, then. I'm doing this – with or without your help."

Remus glared at him some more. "Padfoot, I hate to do this, but I'm going to –"

"Take points?" said Sirius, smirking. "Put me in detention? I've heard it all before, Moony. I don't care. Now shut up, Avery's exiting Slughorn's office…"

He grabbed Remus by the hand and pulled him forwards; they crossed the hallway and hid behind a broom cupboard. If he strained his ears hard enough, he could just make out Avery's loud footsteps.

He appeared right then, hurrying out of the corridor. Sirius whispered, "Mischief managed!" and the Map became blank; he stuffed it inside his robes and turned to Remus.

"Are you doing this or not?"

Remus sighed resignedly and pulled out a box of Dungbombs. "James is going to kill us."

"Nevermind James, McGonagall will have both of our heads…"

They crept through the dark stone floors of the dungeon, under the cover of the Invisibility Cloak. Right as Avery rounded the corner, Sirius struck; lobbing Remus's Dungbombs straight at Avery's exposed back.

The smell was something in between the world's largest supply of Stinksap and Severus Snape's greasy hair in the morning; it was nothing strange to Sirius, but all the same, he didn't enjoy it in the slightest. Avery yelped, turning around quickly and clawing at his robes, but before his voice could rise to a scream, Remus shot a silent "Silencio!" at him.

Avery opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, looking very much like a fish out of water. His wild movements, coupled by the smell of Dungbombs, caused him to trip over his robes and crash to the ground. Sirius and Remus took off the Invisibility Cloak, grim smiles on their faces, towering over Avery.

"I'd say a tribute to Prongs is fitting, don't you think?" said Sirius, already knowing what spell to curse him with.

"I still don't agree with violence," said Remus.

Together, they pointed their wands at the cowering Slytherin, and exclaimed, "Anteoculatia!"

Avery's eyes widened as his head became suddenly heavy; two pairs of antlers sprouted right above his ears, growing quickly as he uttered silent screams. They lengthened and widened, eventually outgrowing even those of Prongs's, and he lay on the ground, unable to move his head.

"How do you feel now, Moony?" asked Sirius.

"A bit better," admitted Remus, his wand still pointed at Avery. "I think if we stuck around a little longer, I'd be feeling golden… for the purpose of revenge, of course…"

"Spoken like a true Marauder," said Sirius, and he grinned broadly as both boys turned their full attention to Avery, who now resembled an overgrown faun.

"Did you lot have anything to do with the fact that Avery's in the hospital wing?" asked James at breakfast the next morning, eyeing the Marauders suspiciously. "Madam Pomfrey says he looks, and I quote, nothing less than a slimy, oozing gigantic slug with two pairs of overgrown antlers."

Sirius shrugged easily, which further confirmed James's suspicions. "Who knows? He can't remember what happened, at least that's what I heard from the Slytherins…"

Lily glared at him. "Sirius, you know that Memory Charms are forbidden. I'm going to have to take points –"

"Don't bother," interrupted Remus, not quite meeting her eyes. "There's no way of proving that it was us – I mean," he added hastily, as Lily scowled dangerously at him, "that it was Sirius."

James watched his friends amusedly, trying not to laugh as the image of a stag-slug hybrid formed in his mind. "You're right, Moony, there isn't. In fact, I'd like to thank the people that did this – I mean, they've done us all a huge favour. I think a round of Firewhisky is in order… if, hypothetically, we find them, of course…"

"James!" admonished Lily, as Remus and Sirius laughed. "Don't tell me that you're going to let them get away with this!"

"Personally, love, I don't see the problem," said James, shooting her a smile. "I mean, he did bash my head in with a Beater's club."

"But –"

James silenced her with a kiss. Lily, surprised, tried to look cross, but when he pulled away she appeared quite flustered.

"Fine," said Lily resignedly, turning to her morning cereal. "I guess, due to the special circumstances, I'll let this slip…"

"There we go," said James proudly.

On Friday morning, the Gryffindors found a surprise waiting for them pinned to the noticeboards: tomorrow on Saturday would be a Hogsmeade weekend.

"Finally," said Sirius as he read the notice from over Peter's head, "I thought they'd forgotten, we usually get them much earlier…"

The rest of the day passed quickly. James and Sirius exploded their cauldron during that morning's potion's lesson, causing Professor Slughorn to take 10 points off of Gryffindor. They more than made up for it by receiving full marks on their Transfiguration quiz after, finding it ridiculously easy, though James kept that information to himself.

Lily, meanwhile, was improving drastically in the subject, now that James had taken to tutoring her nearly nightly. She had, however, in a move James thought rather unfair, firmly insisted on separating their personal relationship from their school and work relationships, saying that it would get in the way and overcomplicate everything.

"Just get on with it, James," she said impatiently that evening after dinner, "I still don't understand this bit, or so help me…"

"Things would be going a lot faster if you'd just start calling me Professor, like I asked you to," said James vaguely.

Lily responded by smacking him with her textbook.

By the time they were finished, however, they did not go to bed, though he desperately wanted to, but opened their books and began working on their Herbology essays. Rather than leave it for the weekend, they'd decided on finishing it all together. The ridiculous amount of work that they were tasked with had finally caught up to them, and though he knew that it was partially his fault for holding them back during their long tutoring sessions, Lily didn't hold it against him. They then dashed off answers to Hedith's questions on Lethifolds, put together an explanation as to why even numbers were considered horrible luck in their Arithmancy paper, and finally threw down their quills, exhausted.

"I'm going to bed," yawned Lily. "Come on then, we need to sleep…"

"Can't," said James, rubbing his eyes. "I've still got an essay for Binns that I haven't turned in."

"All right," she murmured. "Don't stay up too late, James…"

She kissed him on the cheek and left for her room. James smiled to himself and extricated a crumpled roll of parchment from his bag.

Merlin, this was turning out to be much more than what he bargained for. He'd thought that he'd be able to balance his life between being Quidditch Captain and Head Boy, but now – he realized that no sane person would be able to do that. Maybe he should leave it for tomorrow. It was the weekend, after all, but he didn't want to ruin a perfectly good day after being out at Hogsmeade. Relaxation had become a foreign concept to him.

Time passed slowly as he looked over his essay. His head began to ache, though he wasn't sure if it was because of the lack of sleep or because Binns had set them a ridiculously hard topic. James listened to the crackling sound of the dying embers in the fireplace for a while. It reminded him of his bed, waiting longingly for him…

He shook his head, realizing that he'd zoned out. At last, he began to write his essay.

He was finding it very difficult to write about 'a detailed description on the history of dragon-sighting, and how it connects to the goblin rebellions of the fifteenth century', and the textbook Binns had recommended to him was of no help at all. Soon his hand was sore, though he hadn't written much. He looked up now and again to stare out the window; it had begun snowing that morning, something that he was not looking forward to braving at Hogsmeade. Everything seemed to get louder at that instant: his own heartbeat, beating rhythmically with the sound of the crackling fireplace; the wind blowing against the tower, making it sound as though the Bloody Baron was moaning outside…

He shook his head again.

… Vulhook the Vicious tried to convince his goblin tribe, Slordict, to take action against the dragons that were rampaging their land, but the chieftain was too afraid, because that would incite a war with the Wizarding community due to his standing –

The fireplace finally darkened, and James had to light it with his wand. The common room was feeling unusually cold. He gazed at his textbook, trying to find what the chieftain's stupid standing with the Ministry was. He'd just read over it; why was finding it so difficult now?

James closed his eyes. Perhaps Lily was right, and he needed to sleep. He wasn't doing himself any favours staying up like this…

No, he thought. Just get this finished, then you'll go to sleep.

He opened his eyes and scanned through the book once more; at last, he found it. The Chieftain, Valerook, had offended humans by seizing their land and claiming it as the goblins'; in doing so, he'd released the dragons, who protected the humans…

James wrote a couple of lines about the goblin's land, trying to stretch out the words so that he would reach the expected length. He read over what he'd written, and in his mind he saw Lily laughing; it was dreadful.

He closed his eyes again, trying to envision himself as Vulhook the Vicious convincing his chieftain to fight… he remembered something about how mermaids had come to help him…

The clock to his right said that it was nearing one in the morning, he really should get to sleep…

One, he thought, slowly swaying on the spot. Only one mermaid had come to help him…

The background sounds were starting to fade. Even the wind had slowed to a slight breeze. He closed his eyes, giving up on his textbook as all around him the noises that had kept him awake slowly turned into one, clinking sound…

He was standing on the black floor of a well-furnished manor house, its silver chandeliers swinging and clinking purposely overhead, covering the room in dim, flickering light… murky, black-hooded shapes moved about, forming a sort of circle surrounding him and one other thing. He had a body, transparent and luminescent, and he moved freely, but the shapes took no notice; he was invisible to them. He looked to his side and found a… a statue? James couldn't tell. It lay motionless and kneeling on the ground, as if it was bowing to something or someone…

"They are here, my Lord," said one of the figures, her voice harsh and feminine. "Those that I spoke of to you… I have brought them to see…"

"Very good," said another voice in front of him, this one high and cold. "They shall witness… and they shall decide…"

James froze. He didn't know why, but the second voice sounded… he couldn't put the right words.

Then, the statue in the middle screamed; with a jolt that nearly woke him up, he realized that it was not a statue, but a man – a wave of emotion passed over him, and through his dream James winced; it was as though he could feel the pain the screaming man was going through…

"No more, please no more…"

The second voice laughed. It was cold and emotionless; without mirth. It was a laugh of pure malice, and James knew somehow that it had been practiced and perfected, as though the speaker didn't understand human emotion, and was only mimicking…

He bent down to help the man, but his hands passed right through. He glanced down at his feet and found that he was floating. There was nothing he could do but watch…

No more, thought James desperately. Please wake me… Lily or Sirius or anybody…

"How long, Theodore?" hissed the cold voice. "How long will your filthy blood endure the magic of Lord Voldemort?"

"Kill me, please just kill me…"

"Eventually, I shall," said the voice of Lord Voldemort. "Before death takes you, however, I have plans for you… you, Theodore, shall be the beacon that shines in the darkness of the wizarding world."

The figures surrounding them nodded and murmured excitedly. The man in the middle raised his head. His face was bloody and gaunt, and through his curtain of silver hair, James could see his bright green eyes were wet with tears, looking like broken glass…

Voldemort stepped forwards and lowered his wand. The man screamed and screamed, and the dream faded –

The blazing white common room stung and watered his eyes as he opened them quickly. He gave a slight yelp and jumped on the couch; he hit his knee on the table and cursed.

His heart was beating a million times a second. That dream… he had just witnessed Voldemort torture and possibly kill a man…

In the dream, a voice had said that they had 'brought him', whatever that meant. The fact that he had been there was not random. He had been chosen.

He massaged his temples, trying to make sense of what he had just seen. He was being targeted; of that much, he was at least certain. The reason why, he had no idea…

"James?"

A voice, warm and gentle, made him jump again. He glanced up, towards the stairs that led to the Heads' dorms, and found a blurry redhead leaning against the railing, wearing pyjamas and slippers.

He let out a sigh of relief. "Lily. What's wrong?"

She made her way down the stairs, looking ever-more angelic as she neared him. His glasses had slipped off; he felt around the sofa and put them on.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," murmured Lily, sitting down next to him. "Is everything all right? I heard noises."

"It was nothing," James assured her, "What time is it, anyway?"

"It's three in the morning, but don't change the subject." She narrowed her eyes at him. "What's going on?"

"I told you, it's nothing," said James again. "Just a nightmare, that's all."

"A nightmare?" asked Lily, her voice curious, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She took his hand in hers hesitantly. Lately, that had been a sign of reassurance for them both; the feel of her warm palms relaxed him somewhat, and he felt some of the weight in his chest ease…

He looked at her for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to convey his thoughts to her. He recalled seeing Voldemort and some of his followers. He knew that was important, but the memory of the dream was already murky…

James looked at her again. He didn't want to worry her. After all, they were just dreams, and not visions or anything…

"No, not really," he decided. "Maybe later, Lils."

"James, you know you can tell me," said Lily gently.

He clasped her palm with both of his hands, trying to convey to her that he was all right. "I know. I just don't want you worrying."

Or maybe I don't want myself worrying.

She arched an eyebrow. "You wake up from a nightmare looking as though you took a dip in the black lake, and you tell me not to worry?"

For a moment, he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he looked down at his clothes; he had taken off his robes earlier, leaving him clad in just a plain white t-shirt. He hadn't noticed it before, but he was caked in sweat.

"Good point." James laughed shakily, trying to push the embarrassment out of his mind. "Look, let's just enjoy ourselves today. We're going to Hogsmeade, aren't we?"

Lily let go of his hand and eyed him stonily. "James Potter, if something's bothering you, I want you to tell me. A relationship is built on trust. We won't be getting anywhere if we keep secrets from each other."

And James felt an immense pang of guilt at those words. His life flashed before his eyes; what if Lily, once he'd gotten around to telling her… what if she didn't take to his Animagus form well? What if she didn't take to any of his secrets well?

Well, he thought, silence and secrecy are old friends of mine…

But James tried for a smile. "I know, Lily. I just need some time to process this by myself, all right?"

Lily nodded in a final sort of way. "Just tell me. I want to know. Maybe I can help."

"I will," promised James. They both stood up.

Lily looked him up and down, perhaps noticing how baggy his eyes were and how his hair was messier than usual. He certainly felt like it was.

"Now go to sleep, or I'll be forced to stay in the castle with you and miss out on Hogsmeade."

"You'd do that for me?" teased James.

Lily stood on her toes and kissed him. "Maybe. I'll see you later, after you've gotten a good night's sleep. Good morning, James."

She guided him to his room and left him there. James smiled briefly to himself before his thoughts strayed back to his dream. The sound of Voldemort's voice was already fading…

He got down to breakfast with Lily after a less-than-stellar night's sleep, wearing his usual winter clothes, as well as a black cloak fastened around his shoulders and a red-and-gold Gryffindor scarf wrapped around his neck. He sat down next to Peter, who was doing that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet's crossword.

"James, who's the unkillable giant?" asked Peter as soon as he finished grabbing his toast.

James started. "I'm sorry, what was that, Wormy?"

"The unkillable giant," inquired Peter, gesturing at his crossword. James squinted at it.

"Er, I dunno, Pete," admitted James. "I've never been good at history. Maybe Alcyoneus?"

Peter bent down to write the word. "Alcyoneus. That'll be A-L-S-Y –"

"A-L-C-Y," corrected James. "You know, that bloke with the club."

"Hey, that fits!" Peter scribbled the letters. "Thanks, Prongs."

"No problem," said James. He spent the rest of breakfast helping Peter with the crossword, which they finished in record time, and when the clock struck ten o'clock the students in the Great Hall all got up and shuffled towards the oak front doors.

Filch was standing there as usual, checking off the names of people who had permission to go into Hogsmeade. When he reached James and the rest of the Gryffindors, he gave them all a nasty look and reluctantly let them pass.

The walk into Hogsmeade was cold and uncomfortable. James pulled his cloak tighter around his body, trying to keep himself warm. He cursed himself silently as they followed the path; he'd forgotten to wear gloves, and now he was paying the price. It got better once he reached the village; the place was bustling with so many students that the cold was slightly more bearable.

His mind strayed to thoughts about his earlier nightmare as he was pulled by Lily through the crowd. He could barely recall anything about it now, just that Voldemort had been there. That cold, high voice terrified him. James had heard it say something to the man… something about shining a light?

Lily pulled him into Honeydukes, where they found the place crowded as usual. James let out a sigh of relief as the warm, toffee-scented air enveloped him. His hands no longer felt as though they were about to fall off.

While Lily and Alice busied themselves with Sugar Quills and Drinkable Ink, James and the rest of the group went further back into the store, where the real sweets were. He treated himself to a pound of Honeydukes' Best. He decided to send his dad a whole jar of Cockroach Clusters as a joke, to which Sirius laughed in agreement. His eyes landed on a particular brand of treacle fudge that Lily had once said she liked during one of their patrols.

Soon, they all trudged up High Street, carrying bulging bags of candy and chocolate. They hurried into Zonko's, with James pulling a reluctant Lily behind him; he renewed his supply of Dungbombs and fireworks.

"Shall we go to Three Broomsticks, then?" asked Alice. "I'm meeting someone there."

"Who?" asked Peter curiously.

Alice only smiled. "You'll see."

They bundled their scarves back over their faces and James stuffed his hands into his pockets. Zonko's was like dragon-breath compared to the temperature outside. The weather was getting worse and worse, and the falling sleet didn't seem to be stopping any time soon. The street was still crowded, though less so, now that some of the students had admitted defeat against the cold. James and the others staggered into the Three Broomsticks.

It was not as crowded as James usually remembered. There were few students, which he found quite odd. There were queer people about; many wore robes that hooded and disguised them. Off to the corner, he saw a witch sit up straighter as the door jingled; she was wearing a cloak that appeared to be many sizes too big for her. He had no time to think on that, though; Alice immediately made a beeline for one of the tables, where a lone figure was sat sipping a bottle of Butterbeer.

"Frank!"

The man started and squinted in their direction. When he spotted Alice, a huge smile appeared on his face and he jumped up to hug her. James and the others moved through the crowd to get to the couple.

"Longbottom," said James once they'd reached them, extending his hand.

"Potter," said Frank, smiling good-naturedly, and he shook his hand. "I hear you're taking after me. Head Boy! Decided to settle down in your old age, eh?"

"Fat chance," laughed James, pulling up a chair for Lily. They all sat down at the table and Madam Rosmerta hurried over to take their orders. Sirius immediately started to talk to her, and Marlene rolled her eyes.

"So, how've you been, Frank?" asked James. He set his bags down near his feet.

"Oh you know," said Frank airily, "What with Auror training and all that, I haven't had much free time. Still managed to convince Mad-Eye to give me a few days off, though."

"Mad-Eye Moody?" asked Remus interestedly. "He's your boss?"

"Yep," said Frank, popping the 'p'. "Complete nutter, I tell you. Doubt he could settle down like you, James."

Alice leaned over and whispered something in Frank's ear. His face immediately lit up in surprise, and he turned back to him and Lily.

"You two are going out?"

"Frank!" admonished Alice, hitting his shoulder lightly. "I didn't tell you so that you could bombard them with questions!"

"Yes, but even so…" Frank smiled proudly at James. "Potter, I must congratulate you. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Thanks," muttered James, and he leaned back and snaked an arm around Lily. "Honestly, neither did I."

"It was bound to happen eventually," said Lily teasingly. She leaned her head on his shoulder.

At that moment, Madam Rosmerta and Sirius returned to their table, carrying a handful of Butterbeers. James accepted his with a wink from Rosmerta, who eyed him and Lily knowingly.

"Well, here's to Gryffindor," said Frank lazily, holding up his second bottle. "And to James and Lily, I suppose."

"Hear, hear!" said the table, clinking their bottles together.

The atmosphere was light and cheerful; everybody was happy to see Frank again. He'd aided the Marauders a number of times in their ways of pranking and mischief-making, and he didn't stop even when he was made Head Boy. He announced proudly that James was indeed taking after him, and called another round of drinks once they'd emptied their bottles.

James drowned out the others and snuggled up to Lily, fully appreciating the fact that she was here with him, as his date and girlfriend. Here they were, enjoying Butterbeer with a couple of old friends, and they had eyes for only each other…

So why did he get the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong?

His thoughts drifted off to his nightmare. The memory was dim and he couldn't remember what Voldemort sounded like, much less what he had been talking about. He tried to shake the feeling off; he shouldn't be feeling like this, he should be enjoying himself…

"What's on your mind?" asked Lily, her face morphing into a worried expression as she looked up at him.

Despite his thoughts, he smiled exasperatedly. "How do you do that? You always know when something's bothering me."

Lily found his hand and squeezed it. "Your face scrunches up and you get this cute look. And also, because I know you."

James wanted to say, and you like me anyway?

Instead, he answered her. "Just thinking about this morning, before you woke me up…"

"Is it the nightmare?" asked Lily, her voice laced with alarm, and she sat up. "James, you're telling me now. If something's bothering you –"

"It's fine," James cut her off. "I'm just getting this weird feeling…"

"Go on," urged Lily.

"Like something's going to happen," said James slowly. "Something dangerous."

"Dangerous?" asked Lily incredulously. "It can't be – him?"

James wondered how she'd come to that conclusion so quickly. "Maybe. I don't know. Then again, perhaps it's nothing, and I'm just worrying for naught…"

"You think we should go back to school?" asked Lily, drumming her fingers along his hand nervously. "If you've got a feeling – we could shut the place down, tell everybody to go back."

"I –"

"Guys." Alice cut him off swiftly, a little smile spread across her lips. "I hate to burst you out of your little world, but Frank needs you two to be quiet. He's going to take a call."

"Sure," said Lily, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry, Frank."

"Don't worry about it," said Frank, winking at James. "This'll just take a moment…"

He took a small black piece of metal from under his coat and put it up to his ear. "Mad-Eye? It's Frank."

James watched him, holding his breath as Frank blanched.

"Are – are you sure?" said Frank. The rest of the table was very quiet, and the atmosphere in the Three Broomsticks seemed to mimic them.

A tiny voice spoke from the black piece of metal. Frank's face fell. James closed his eyes, gripping Lily's hand for reassurance.

"I – yes, of course I will," said Frank, his tone now serious and his expression hard. "Of course. I'll try to get everyone to safety."

He folded his instrument and stuffed it back in his coat. He stared around the table, his jaw set and looking older than he was.

"Well?" said James, breaking the silence.

His stomach dropped as Frank looked at him, his eyes uncharacteristically harsh. "Mad-Eye's received intel from one of his spies. You-Know-Who's coming here, to Hogsmeade."

It was as though a bomb had been dropped in the middle of the pub. Everyone had heard them, and now they were staring fearfully at each other, unable to say anything. And then, from the corner of the room, a harsh and feminine voice spoke.

"Very good, Longbottom." Her cloak fell away, revealing a pale, beautiful face with eyes that suggested she was insane. "The Dark Lord is, indeed, coming."