Author's Notes:
Hi everyone! Happy weekly publishing time! I'm so excited to finally get into the plot line I touch on in this chapter. It was super fun to write about!
Bankerrtx01: I honestly haven't decided when he'll share that information with Harry. It won't be until he's older though, for sure. Midnitewanderer: I agree with you on the James contacting Dumbledore thing. I think that's why I ended up writing that scene the way I did. There's some juicy Jean/Remus/Rick stuff coming, I promise! Also, sorry not sorry for this chapter. I couldn't help it! It ended so naturally. I Love Ginevra: I'm glad you're liking my story! Right now what happened to Hermione's bio dad is ambiguous (it'll be clear as the story progresses!) but "Mr. Granger" is Rick in this story who is (currently) Jean's best male friend. Sorry if that was confusing!
Please enjoy this update everyone! Stay safe and remember to WASH YOUR FUCKING HANDS!
Chapter Nineteen: Speculations
Jean watched as Remus walked down the lane. She frowned at the sight of him; his shoulders hunched over, his head down, the quickness in his steps as he hurried away. The golden-haired man she had gotten to know over the last few weeks, shunned away because she was never able to keep the balance in her life. Why did this always happen?
She turned quickly, anger flashing in her eyes as they caught sight of Rick in the driveway. She could see the shame written all over his face. His eyes were sad as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. She could see the other balled up in the pocket of his jeans. She softened a little at the sight of him. She couldn't help herself. This was Rick! Her Rick—no, her friend Rick. She had moved on, Jean reminded herself, she needed to stay strong in this.
"What do you want, Rick? You interrupted quite an interesting moment," Jean asked.
"Well, I just, I came over to check up on you, I guess. I hadn't heard from you in a few days and you skipped clinicals yesterday—"
"Hermione was ill; she had a belly ache so I kept her home."
"Oh, well, that makes sense," Rick replied.
They stood there for a few moments, each pointedly not looking at the other. Rick looked around the garden. He had always admired her skill with plants; he always thought Jean grew the most beautiful flowers. Rick chanced a glance at Jean and found her pointedly looking at the cloudless sky. She looked so beautiful standing there. Her dark brown hair fell in loose rings down her back, her small nose, and the long lashes on her eyes. Soon enough he found himself staring and forced himself to look away and back at something else.
"Jean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you and Remus."
Jean sighed and looked at Rick. His heart about stopped when he caught sight of those dark eyes.
"It's ok," She replied as she twisted her hands on her watering can, "He came by to talk to me about something but he never got to it."
"I'm sorry. I know it's been hard for you since—since Greg. I was just worried about you and then I saw you kissing him after he's been giving you the cold shoulder lately. I didn't know what to think. You two look good together. He's…handsome."
"Yes, he is," Jean said as she looked to the ground.
"Have you heard from him lately?"
Jean looked back at the house and up to a window with the blinds closed, "No. I don't expect to anymore. He'll never know what he's missing."
Rick stepped forward and covered Jeans hands with his own. He could feel the hard-plastic watering container under them, "You deserve better. You know that. You and Hermione, you guys deserve the best. I love you both more than anything, you know that."
Jean looked back at him, her eyes sad, "Yeah, we know. She misses having you around you know. It's been hard not having you around as much anymore. We both miss you."
"I miss you guys too. I've been giving you your space. You've been dating that guy and it's been hard—" Rick caught himself before he finished his sentence. He closed his mouth and looked back at the rose bushes. Orange was such a beautiful color.
"What's been hard?" Jean asked, her eyes confused and curious.
"Just missing my best friend. That's all," Rick lied.
Jean sighed and leaned into him, hugging him close, "We miss you. I miss you."
"I know. But you need time to date and see Remus or whomever is next. I don't know. Sorry, I'm just so all over the place right now."
"Rick," Jean said as she looked up at him, "Why do you think I need space from you? You're my best friend?"
Because I needed space to breathe, "Because I can't imagine it's easy to date with your guy best friend hanging around," he replied with a laugh.
"Damnit, Rick. I'm tired of these games! You're the one who dated Ally first. And here I thought—I thought…" Jean trailed off as she looked away from Rick.
Rick, his brow furrowed, replied, "Thought what, Jean?"
Jean smiled sadly, "Nothing. Do you want to come inside for a cup of tea? I can put the kettle on? Catch up, you know?"
"Only if you have spearmint green tea," Rick said as he smiled at Jean.
"I think I can rustle some up. Come on in, you know where everything is."
Rick followed Jean into the little house. As he walked by the bushes, he reached his hand out and ran his fingers along the petals of one of the orange roses and smiled. He had really missed Jean.
~ID~
"Hello? Narcissa?" James called out from the floo, "Anyone home?"
James sat and listened for a moment before he heard quick footsteps approaching. He could tell by the clack of the heels that it was most likely Narcissa making her way towards the fireplace. He watched as a tall blonde woman wearing dark blue robes swaggered into his sight. He sighed as he thought about what someone like her could possibly want.
Narcissa knelt down so she could be more face to face with James, "Lord Potter. Thank you for flooing me so quickly. I have a few important matters to discuss with you."
"Yeah, it wasn't a problem. I had some free time today. What's up?"
Narcissa frowned at James' casual attitude but continued, "I wanted to discuss my son, Draco, and Lord Black with you if you would be so inclined."
"What about Sirius?" James asked confusedly, "He's here with me, I could have him join us if you wanted."
"Yes, well, I don't think that's necessary, Lord Potter. I was hoping to discuss the recent passing of his mother with you. It is my understanding that Lord Black has not been informed because the Ministry has been unable to contact him."
"Walburga died? Of what?"
"Dragon Pox. At her age her death was quick. She passed in the family home. With my sister in Azkaban, I am the only other remaining Black so the task of informing Lady Black's only son was left on my shoulders. Please extend my condolences. I do hope he informs me of when the services will take place."
James snorted, "I highly doubt Sirius will hold services for that old bat. He hates her. But I'll pass along your message none the less. Have you contacted your other sister? I'm sure Andromeda would like to know. Did you need anything else from me? If not, I did have plans to go flying with my son and I'm sure he's going to be waking up soon."
Her eyes sad, Narcissa continued, "Andromeda was removed from the family tree a decade ago. So, no. However, your son leads me perfectly into my next topic. You see, Lord Potter, I have a son who is the same age as your boy. Lucius has only allowed Draco to play with children who belong to families of the other sacred 28 but I have convinced him to allow Draco to associate with those pure-blood families who were erroneously omitted from the Pure-Blood Directory's sacred 28 list. I have not been overly pleased with the parentage of those other children though a few of the children have been lovely playmates for my Draco. Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini in particular are bright and interesting children.
"So, I had a thought. I love my husband and don't wish to go against his wishes but I thought, your family should have been included in that list, I've researched your family history extensively over the last few weeks. And, even though he is a half-blood, your son does technically constitute as an offspring from a pure-blood family. I was hoping you may be willing to allow our sons to have a playdate. Maybe tomorrow if possible. Lucius will be at the Ministry all day and if Draco and Harry have an interest in remaining friends, I know Lucius would never force them apart."
"You want to schedule a play date? I don't know if I want Harry to be friends with someone who takes the sacred 28 that seriously," James said cautiously.
"I understand that. While I was raised to believe that the pure blood is best, I want Draco to make those decisions on his own. I'm concerned that if I allow Lucius to force these beliefs on him without any kind of outside influence that Draco won't be able to make his own opinions someday. And since you and Harry are technically part of the sacred 28, I think this is the best way to open Draco's world view. I mean, you married a muggle born."
James pursed his lips, "Then why not have him meet the Weasley children, too, then?"
Narcissa frowned. Somehow, she looked lovely even doing that, "Well, I think the Weasley's may be a bit of a far stretch for what I'm trying to accomplish. Even if I took Draco to meet those children, Lucius would never allow him to return."
"But they're technically part of the sacred 28 as well."
"Yes, that's true. Whomever wrote the book did technically include them. But they also included a notation about their traitorous beliefs regarding blood status. However, if the Weasley children just so happened to be at your house during the playdate, well, that just couldn't have been foreseen," Narcissa stated with a knowing look.
James thought for a moment. Would it really be such a bad thing for Harry to have another friend? With a good influence, any child can overcome their parent's preconceived notions.
"Let me discuss it with Sirius. He knows you best and I think his input will give me a good idea of what to do with all of this."
Narcissa thought and then nodded, "That seems fair. Please send a note with your house elf to me, and only me, once you've reached a decision. I look forward to hearing from you."
"Ok. Have a nice one."
James quickly pulled his head out of the fire and braced himself on the floor. His head always spun horribly after using the floo in this way. Once the room stopped spinning he carefully stood up and headed to the kitchen hoping to find Sirius still there.
He walked into the kitchen and saw Gus and Cirri preparing that evening's dinner.
"Hey guys, did you see where Sirius got off to?"
Cirri looked up at James and smiled, "He is going to the living room to watch the TV. I is hoping you is hungry for dinner Master James. We is making steak and kidney pie."
"That sounds awesome Cirri. Thank you."
James made his way to the living room and burst out laughing. Sirius was sprawled out on an arm chair, one of his legs over the arm, his beer spilling on the floor as it tipped out of his hand. He was snoring so loudly, James marveled at how much like a dog his best friend was.
He thought for a moment before pointing his wand at his feet and whispering, "quietus," and creeping silently over to where Sirius was sitting. He thought for another moment, carefully considering his options. Then, smiling, he knew exactly what he should do.
After several minutes of complicated transfiguration, James smiled down at his work. James had transformed his friend Sirius into Cici. Sirius' locks of black hair now reached down to his plump breasts in curly ringlets. His face, devoid of his scruff, now had make up to compliment his feminine features. James had a way with his wand when it came to contouring apparently as Sirius had never looked more beautiful. He had also transfigured her lips so that they were plumper and fuller. Finally, James had made Sirius' body more effeminate by giving her hips. Honestly, he didn't have to do much to Sirius' body, he was already rather effeminate.
His clothes were what James was the proudest of. He had transfigured Sirius' sweats into a lovely, low cut, cardigan sweater in a lovely cream color that complimented Sirius' skin tone and a pair of very shapely jeans. He had also changed Sirius' shoes to a pair of wedge sandals and gave Sirius a lovely french pedicure.
Smiling to himself, he silently summoned his camera and snapped a few photos of Sirius and then banishing the camera again, hiding it in a safe place in the house. He then pointed his wand at his throat and said, "Sonorus."
"Hey sexy, come here often?" James said using his amplified voice.
Sirius woke with a start, snorting as his eyes sprung open. He quickly sat up and yawned, stretching and arching his back, his breasts heaving in the air. The unusual weight on his chest caught his notice and he glanced down confusedly. Then he smiled and reached up and grabbed on of the breasts with his hand and jumped when he felt his hand squeeze it.
As he absentmindedly played with his new appendages, Sirius said, "I don't know what happened, but I really like these."
James started laughing as he watched Sirius playing with his boobs, "You're not even the least bit upset?"
"Eh. Wait. Did you give me the other parts?" Sirius asked excitedly as he pulled at the waistband of his jeans.
James looked at him, wide eyed, "I mean, I didn't really think about that."
"Well that's disappointing," Sirius said as he looked into his pants, "But, honestly, I never thought I could look more gorgeous. You've outdone yourself, Prongs!"
Sirius gave James a sexy pose, pulling down the top of his sweater so James could glimpse a part of his perky breasts.
James simply held up his wand and removed the breasts but left the hair, make up, and clothes, "knock it off you ponce. I came to talk to you but first you need to clean up the beer you spilled on my floor."
Sirius looked at the floor next to him where a dark brown stain had formed where his beer had spilled and said, "Sure thing Prongs. Cirri! Can you come here?"
"That's not what I meant," James said, frowning as Cirri came into the living room.
"What is you needing Master Sirius?"
"You call him master?" James asked Cirri.
"Of course she does! Fee always told her I was family. Right Cirri?"
"This is true Masters James and Sirius. What is you needing?"
James rolled his eyes as Sirius flashed Cirri a large grin, "Cirri can you help get rid of this stain on the floor?"
"I can!" Cirri said before snapping her fingers. The stain suddenly disappeared off the floor at her snap and Cirri left the room.
"Thanks Cirri!" Sirius yelled as she left.
"It is not being a problem!" Cirri called back.
Sirius picked up his wand and transfigured most of himself back. He decided to keep the hair and simply shortened it some before conjuring a hair tie and pulling it back into a low ponytail.
"I've been meaning to change up my look! I think this looks pretty good; kind of badass if you ask me. It'd look really good with my leather jacket while I ride my motorcycle. So, what did you need?"
"I wanted to ask your opinion on your cousin Narcissa."
"Malfoy? I haven't talked to her since before she married that wanker she calls a husband. Why?"
"She wants to schedule a playdate for her son, Draco, and Harry. She said she's worried Draco will pick up too much of his dad's racism if she only lets Draco play with other children from the sacred 28."
"I mean, she's not wrong," Sirius said, "he'd turn into a wanker like his father. Did she say what brought this on?"
"She'd been researching my family line to make sure I would qualify under Lucius' requirements. She seemed to believe Harry would qualify even though he's half-blood. She described it as some sort of loophole. I just don't know if I want him to have Lucius' beliefs rub off on him."
Sirius thought for a moment before replying, "Well, if you think of it that way, and your parents had thought the same way, we wouldn't have been friends."
James frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Well, I came from a family worse than this Draco does. You remember my mother dearest and her beliefs about half-bloods and muggle borns. If Fee and Monty thought the same way you're looking at this, they never would have let us continue to be friends. I could have rubbed off my mother's belief of Toujours Pur on you and corrupted you."
"I guess you're right," James said as he ran his fingers through his hair, "Well, what do you think of Narcissa? Do you think this is some kind of ploy?"
"Nah. Cissa was always a good person. A little spoiled and a bit stuck up, but she's an honest and relatively genuine person."
"Well, then I guess it wouldn't hurt to try one playdate. If Harry decides he doesn't like this Draco, we don't have to have another, right?"
"I don't see why that would be a problem. It sounds like that's Cissa's plan, too."
"Yeah," James said before he looked up, remembering something, "Right. She had a message for you."
"Oh yeah? What did ol' Cissa want from me?"
"It's good and bad news. Walburga died."
"So the old bat bit the dust, huh? Can't say I'm upset. What took her down? It deserves a prize."
"Dragon Pox apparently."
"Yeah, well, the old bat deserved that."
"She wanted to know when you're going to host a funeral."
Sirius let out a bark like laugh, "If she wants my mother to have a funeral, she's welcome to host it herself. I won't be lifting a finger to help that old bag."
James shrugged, "Whatever you want, padfoot. Anyway, I need to owl Dumbledore back. You good?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Prongs."
James nodded before sitting down and quickly writing a letter to Dumbledore agreeing to speak to him this evening about Harry and the prophecy. He took it out to the owlery and sent it off to him before headed back to the house.
Once Harry woke up, he and James spent the afternoon flying around on their brooms on the quidditch pitch. Harry had a blast watching James do some complicated flying tricks and then fell off his broom trying to do a loop in the air. He wasn't flying too high, so he wasn't injured but James coddled him all the same.
While flying, James received a response from Dumbledore agreeing to meet this evening in his office. The letter indicated that they had much to discuss.
James made sure Harry was fed and bathed before putting him to bed for the evening. Once he was sure Harry was down for the evening, he placed a sensory charm on his room so he would know if Harry woke up at any point during the evening. He smiled as he headed down to the fireplace and flooed to Dumbledore's office.
~ID~
Remus sighed as Potter Manor grew before him. He had been gone for several hours now and the prospect of having to go home and face James again after his outburst was daunting. He hadn't meant to blow up at something so trivial. He was only slightly miffed that James had owled Dumbledore; he felt like that was something he needed to do himself if he deserved the job. When it got this close to the full moon he was always on edge. His emotions ran high and his nerves were on edge.
He looked at the front door and sighed before going inside. He carefully pushed open the door and walked into the entrance hall before looking around the room. He listened carefully and followed the soft whispers of James' voice.
James' voice pulled him into the library where he watched James stick his face into the floo. Remus sighed and grabbed a seat and a book. Who knew how long this call would take.
~ID~
James stepped out of the fireplace and into Dumbledore's office. He carefully brushed the soot off of him and used a cleansing charm on himself to remove what he couldn't brush off.
He looked up at the massive bookshelves around him until he caught sight of Dumbledore sitting at his desk writing something.
"Good evening, Professor."
Dumbledore looked up and smiled, "Good evening, James. And, please, you are no longer my student; you may feel free to call me Albus."
"Alright. Albus, then."
"Have a seat," Dumbledore said as he indicated the chairs in front of him as he smiled.
James took a seat in front of Dumbledore and looked at him patiently.
"How have you been these last few months, James?"
"Good. Can we skip the formalities, Albus? I'd like to discuss Harry and the prophecy so I can get home. I have practice early tomorrow morning."
"Of course. What would you like to know?"
"Is he gone?"
Dumbledore looked at James seriously, his blue eyes sad, "I think you know the answer to that, James."
James sighed, "That's what I was afraid you would say. Does this mean that Harry will have to face him again?"
"I believe so. But I can only make educated guesses. Prophecies are notoriously ambiguous and unclear."
"How are we going to prepare for that? He's just a child, Albus. How do I train him to kill the worst evil our world has ever seen? How do I tell him that he has to kill or be killed? That there's no hiding from this?"
"I wouldn't worry about telling him that now. He's only three, James. That can wait until he's older, until he can understand what the prophecy means for him. As for training him; for now, we can focus on training his mind and giving him the foundation he needs to succeed when he begins Hogwarts. Give him a normal childhood, James."
"A normal childhood? How can he ever have a normal childhood? They call him The Boy Who Lived, Albus. He's more famous than he realizes and some day he'll be even more famous because he has to defeat Voldemort. He needs training and as much as I hate to say it, it needs to happen sooner than later. Now, if possible.
"Maybe I can get a variance from the Ministry to teach him basic, elemental wandless magic at home and, eventually, defense and advanced spells. He should learn how to defend himself without magic, too. If he were to be captured by death eaters and lose his wand? They'd kill him, Albus. Without hesitation. He would have no line of defense!"
"James, I think you're getting ahead of yourself. What Harry needs—"
"No offense, Albus, but I don't think you know what Harry needs. As you just said, you can only speculate and make educated guesses. We need to plan for the worst case scenario here."
Dumbledore frowned at James, "I cannot force you to follow my advice, James, but I can still give it. I have been working these last two years to gather information about Voldemort's past. About his childhood, school years, and after school life before he rechristened himself as Lord Voldemort. I think there's more information that we don't know that would make this situation clearer."
"What do you know that you aren't telling me, Albus?" James said, his eyes darkening.
"At this time I don't know anything, James, I merely have uncorroborated suspicions."
"And what are those suspicions?" James spat, "I deserve to know. Harry deserves for us to have the whole picture."
Dumbledore sighed, stood up, and walked to a cabinet near his desk. He reached in and pulled out a stone basin with runes around the edge of the bowl and brought it back to his desk and sat it down before taking his seat.
"Do you know what this is, James?"
"No."
"It's a pensieve. It allows one to remove their memories, or copies of their memories, and replay them. I have in here two memories I think are important pieces to the Voldemort puzzle. One is my memory from when Voldemort was a child, before he began Hogwarts. The other is a memory from a house elf named Hokey. She was the house elf to one of Helga Hufflepuff's last remaining descendants, Hepzibah Smith. If you would be inclined, I can show you these two memories."
Curious, James stood up and looked at the pensieve, "And what do these memories have to do with the prophecy?"
"To be honest, I'm not sure yet. I have speculations, of course, but nothing I can confirm yet."
James looked up into Dumbledore's face, "And those speculations?"
"I believe Voldemort may have found a way to become immortal, in a sense of the word. I believe he can be defeated, but it will be difficult."
"How do you think he did it?"
"I am honestly not sure. I have been researching the ways but I have not come across any that have been successful for previous witches and wizards yet. There are soul transfer potions, necromancy of course, unicorn blood, a philosopher's stone, and horcruxes. Horcruxes being objects magically enhanced to house portions of a person's severed soul. None of these areas of magic would render Voldemort truly immortal but, rather, extend his natural life until such a point that the magic was destroyed or counteracted.
"However, at this time, I cannot say for certain which option Voldemort would have gone. Creating a philosopher's stone is nearly impossible; only one wizard in history has been able to manufacture such a creation and it is currently being kept safe in a secret, undisclosed location by my good friend, Nicolas Flamel.
"As for soul transfer potions and horcruxes; the potion was never perfected by the creator. While it was able to temporarily transfer the drinker's soul into another body, it would eventually transfer back. And if the drinker's body had been destroyed, the soul would dissipate, rendering the drinker dead. Similar occurred with the creator of the horcrux. He was able to split and remove a portion of his soul and encase it within an object, but eventually that object would combust and destroy that portion of the soul and thus rendering destroying the essential purpose of the ritual.
"As we know unicorn blood is not an exact science either. The drinker is merely able to cling to the life they have and cannot regenerate or improve upon their current condition. It merely sustains a drinker rather than repairing or enhancing. And necromancy would require another wizard of Voldemort's skill to resurrect him. I don't know that any wizards capable outside of myself exist. Whether he could have figured out a way to use necromancy to his benefit I cannot know.
"As you can see, all I have is speculation at this point. Hence my research into Voldemort's past. My hope is to find some clue or clues that tell me the story of what he decided to do, what line of magic he learned and improved upon."
"Wow," James said shocked, "Wow. You think it's possible he could be using any one of those ideas? I mean, that he could have dabbled in and improved upon or created any of those options is…unthinkable."
Dumbledore nodded his agreement, "Do you understand my hesitation to divulge this information to others before I have been able to come to a solid conclusion? These speculations are so unthinkable that no one would believe them out of sheer fear of the unknown, of Voldemort's potential capabilities. It would cause panic among the citizens of Magical Brittan."
"And you think these memories you found give you some clues?"
"I think they are smaller pieces of a large, unclear puzzle, yes."
James looked back at the pensieve and then back at Dumbledore, "Let's have a look then."
Dumbledore smiled and swirled the liquid in the pensieve with his wand, "After you, James."
James frowned and took a deep breath before bending over the pensieve and falling into Dumbledore's memory.
End Notes:
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