Shut your mouth, baby, stand and deliver
Holy hands, will they make me a sinner?
Like a river, like a river,
Shut your mouth and run me like a river
-River, Bishop Briggs
...
James pulled his mattress into the Common Room, the feeling of dread heavy on his chest. Even from his dormitory, he could hear his dorm mates chatting and laughing in the Common Room. What right had they to set up camp in his and Lily's space? Did they not think to ask first? Did they not think that perhaps they'd rather go to sleep and be done with it? Speak in the morning?
The cuts on his face stun with the breeze of his mattress as it thudded to the ground, and he took a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror above his desk. His cheeks were cut in several places from ricocheting curses and jinxes, and the blood had dampened and reddened his collar and front of his dressing gown. He reached up, and almost anxiously touched them, one after another, fully embracing the notion that he and his friends had been in real danger tonight, perhaps unnecessary and un-purposeful danger, and for what?
He had rescued Amelia Bones.
The teachers were all out looking for her, as were the Aurors. They had no right, as McGonagall had said, to play to hero with her life in the balance.
Mary and Lily had gotten hurt because of him.
Amelia's kidnapper had split Lily's lip (most likely from their attacker's strange purple jinx), and the cut on her leg was deep, and it could've been much worse if Marlene's curse hadn't been so accurate. He owed his life to his friends, time and time again, but what right had they to trust him, believe him? After all that had happened?
He had been so ready, anxious even, to prove himself after the fiasco with Lily. He wanted to be the hero in her eyes, the one who could save her mate and live to tell the tale. To be brave like his dad, like his mum, as courageous as everyone expected him to be. James Potter with a swagger and wink and an answer to every question. Who was he if he wasn't who everyone thought he was?
And who was their attacker? He was stout, thickly built with broad shoulders and dark eyes. His wand was short and curved slightly, with several nicks and splinters, as if their assailant had been involved in more severe scuffles than this. But he was hooded, and none of them had got a good luck at him, whoever he was—thinking of course that he was a he. He prayed to God that the Stunning spell in addition to the Full Body-Bind Sirius had applied would hold until morning.
James sighed and rubbed his jaw, hissing in pain when it reached a cut. He raised his wand and Levitated his mattress, but his hand was shaking, and the charm was holding an uneven levitation. All the energy from the Room of Requirement seemed to leave him at once, and he was left shaky and disorientated, moreover frustrated for feeling this way. Hadn't he carried Amelia at a run and then fought as he'd never fought before? Hadn't he defended his friends and thrown curses he'd never used, without thinking at someone who wouldn't show their face?
James groaned and stopped, resting his face in his hands, his mattress falling with a soft thud. The damn thing wouldn't fit through the doorframe.
He took hold of his pillows and sheets and walked in a huff to the Common Room, depositing them on Sirius' bunk to his best mate's stifled bemusement. James walked back to his dormitory and Shrunk and Levitated his mattress, and set it down with perhaps more force than necessary when he saw Lily chatting with Remus, sitting on Lupin's bed with a broad smile on her face.
"You've got a little something on your collar, Prongs," Sirius said, straight-faced. "It's quite the look, isn't it, Evans?"
Lily looked down, fiddling with her hands on her lap.
"I forgot," James said cooly, turning on his heel back to his dormitory. "It's two in the morning, but I need clothes that aren't bloodstained to go to bed."
"Yeah, you do," Peter said, his eyes going back and forth between Sirius and James. "Doesn't he?"
"Course he does," Marlene said. "We all changed, why shouldn't he? He's filthy."
"I should think that James should be the judge of his actions," Lily said, and James stopped, one hand on his doorknob, his heart in his throat.
"Don't listen to her, Prongs," Sirius said, lying back down and closing his eyes. "Just change, you prat. You know which pyjamas I like,"
Lupin, Marlene and Peter burst into laughter, clutching each other and their chests as they choked, tears running down their cheeks.
"He's— he's not even that funny," Marlene gasped, wiping tears from her eyes. "God I'm exhausted,"
"Then go to bed," Lily said shortly, standing up. "I'm going to brush my teeth, and you lot best be snoring when I get back,"
"Come on, Lils, we didn't mean it," Marlene said, and Lily rolled her eyes, piecing her way around the mattresses towards the bathroom. James' eyesight was blurry, but when she came within three feet, James noticed for the first time the sheer volume of blood running down her leg, pooling in her sock.
"Lil, you should've said something," he said in shock, bending down to examine her wound. Lily looked down, seemingly unaware of her predicament, and reached down towards her cut, hissing in pain when she touched it.
"No, don't," James said, taking off his cardigan. "My mum's better at healing charms than I am, but I'll take a stab at it,"
James pulled his wand out of his pocket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. He murmured incantations under his breath, and the wound puckered and then closed before her eyes. He dropped his wand and ripped the hem of his shirt, tearing it into a long strip of cloth, and binding her leg with it, knotting it gently and tying it in a bow. She protested, but she was shaking too, and the cut was deep enough to scare him.
James knew his mates were watching, but this was more important.
"It might be a curse," James said, "and if it is, there isn't much to be done other than keep infection out. We'll go and see Madame Pomfrey in the morning and have her look at it. If it starts bleeding again, let me know, and I'll try something else."
"I took care of the cut on my lip, and the long scratch up my neck, but nothing I could do would fix that one."
"I don't know if I fixed it either," James said anxiously. "But I tried my best."
"Okay," Lily said, a small smile on her lips. "Thanks for taking care of me,"
"It's my pleasure," James said.
"And it will be if it isn't already," Sirius whispered, and Lupin elbowed him sharply.
"I' d-I'd better change,"
"You'd better," she said, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek, continuing in a whisper. "Because I won't kiss you again until you do,"
…
Sometime later, James and Lily pulled their mattresses to the only available space in the room and settled down for the night. James tried not to stare as she stretched overhead, the hem of her nightie raising, exposing glorious inches of soft looking skin. He settled hastily into his bed, pulling the sheets firmly up to his chin and lying flat on his back, hoping, praying that she had more nerve than he did and would say something first. Or, perhaps, fall asleep and talk in the morning when both of them could be more rational.
Lily settled herself in bed, leaving her sheets loose about her. Peter was snoring, loudly, and the comfortable intimacy they usually shared in this space vanished like smoke. In his peripheral vision, James could see the shadows of the dying fire and low burning candles jumping across her features, exaggerating the draw of her cheekbones, the turn of her nose. The bedsprings creaked, and he listened with bated breath as Lily flipped onto her side, facing him.
"What a night, eh?"
"Yeah," James said, trying to remain nonchalant. Her hand was outside of her sheets, lying innocuously beside her. Their beds were close, space before the hearth was small and cramped, just large enough for two beds and nothing else. He looked over at her, reckoning if he extended his arm, his fingertips might just be able to reach her hand. Hold it, the small, thin fingers, warm palm, the gentle scratch of her fingernails against the back of her hand. She had changed her fingernail polish, it was now a vivid orange, which clashed beautifully, wonderfully with her dark red hair. It was in a plait, he hadn't noticed before, but it was falling out, little strands dangled against her neck and down her arm.
The looseness was intoxicating, the smell of her perfume, even after the day she had, clung to her like a second skin. Rosebuds and warm, clean air, the scent he would always associate with her.
"Do you think that the rest of them are still awake?" Lily said, taking her glasses off and laying them beside his on the sofa cushion behind them.
James' senses went to high alert. What was she asking? He could hear the steady rise and fall of Lupin's breath and the shifts and shuffles as Sirius settled into a comfortable position. Marlene was still, as was Peter, although he continued to snore like a freight train. His face flushed as he considered her question. It may be their dormitory, but their friends were here. Sleeping maybe, but lightly, and they were always at risk of waking up prematurely.
James craned his neck to take a look at the mantle clock, which was ticking serenely, the minute hand just moments before the hour.
"Merlin's saggy left bollock," he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. "It's almost three in the morning."
"Then I guess we'd better say goodnight," Lily said, sitting up suddenly. James took in an involuntary gulp of air and leaned back on his forearms as Lily let the sheets fall off her and sat on the edge of his bed, a familiar expression on her face. Lily reached down, flattening the pieces of his fringe away from his brow, as James sat, stunned. Watching her, simultaneously wishing she would move closer and further away. He felt his breath catch as she leaned down and pressed her lips against his.
"You were so brave, tonight," Lily said, pulling away, peppering kisses against his jawline. "Earlier, I'd be much worse off if it wasn't for you,"
"It was Marlene," James said between breaths, leaning up suddenly to cradle her head in his hands. "She was the one—the one who, y' know..."
"Did it?" Lily asked, moving to settle between his knees. "No, you're wrong. You made the call like a leader, let the others play to their strengths. You didn't play the hero, but Amelia is saved, and our friends are safe." She leaned down and kissed him again, and James' heart pounded in his chest, "James—this man you're growing to be—I'd follow you anywhere."
He reached up, his fingers unconsciously pulling at her braid and untangling it, kissing her with an enthusiasm he'd always had for her, the love he wished he could share with her.
"You're so beautiful," James whispered, his voice full of awe, running his shaking hands over her cheeks. "Gods, Lily, you're so beautiful,"
Lily smiled, her face wide and vulnerable and leant closer to him, hooking her toes around his calves.
"Pretty everything," he confirmed, reaching up to kiss the freckle above her left cheekbone. "Assume I've gone mad if I say something otherwise,"
Lily reached down, her hands spanning his chest, and his breath caught unconsciously. He was so tactile; every touch sent his mind reeling, every thought other than those of her evaporated into mist. She arched her fingers, and her nails ran down his chest. He tossed back his head and groaned, neurons firing faster than he could process them. "Don't start something you're not willing to finish," James said under his breath, his eyes closing outside of his control.
Lily smiled and lay on top of him in a loose embrace without another word, arms wound about his neck, hair spilling down his chest. His control on the situation was waning with each passing second, and he struggled to remain still, not to adjust and spoil everything. Because what was she expecting? Was she going to—going to— did she expect to—
Merlin, when was the last time he found himself in this mess? He hadn't slept with a bird in over a year, what if he was rubbish? He couldn't, wouldn't be rubbish in bed with Lily Evans. He refused, he'd die of embarrassment.
Lily's fingers reached down and played with the hem of his sleep shirt, but as she did, she yawned widely and sat back onto her heels to recover her breath.
James sat up also, enjoying the feel of her knees between his thighs. He let out something like a sigh of relief and kissed her forehead. "Maybe another time, Evans."
"Promise?"
"Course," James said, more relieved than he could say, but also disappointed in a way he couldn't explain. Would he have shagged Lily in a room full of his sleeping mates? James knew she deserved better than that, flowers and violins and all the other shite birds liked. But in the heat of the moment, her moving to kneel between his thighs, her hair like a curtain shielding away the rest of the world... he reckoned he might have. And when she leaned forward like that— her breasts were so close, her breath so warm against his own… if they had gotten much farther, he would've had her without a second thought.
"I've wanted to since I knew what it was, especially with you," James admitted, his breath quiet and thick. "You surpass every one of my fourth-year daydreams,"
"Gross," Lily said, wrinkling her nose, sitting back at the foot of his bed. "Good to know that there was something important on your mind while you stared holes into the back of my head in History of Magic,"
James chuckled, and Lily sat up, pulling her mattress closer to James' so the two touched, leaning over to kiss him one last time and then tucking herself back into her sheets.
"Goodnight, James,"
"'Night, Evans,"
James, happier and more content than he had been in ages, reached out and took hold of her hand, and held it close. And as the minutes passed in silence, the dying light of the candles and the steady pulse of her heartbeat lulled him to sleep.
…
The next morning came about with bright morning light filtering through the open drapes. Sirius woke before the rest of them, taking a moment to remember where he was, before rising and walking with care around Peter's and Lupin's beds on his way to the toilet. He looked over to the hearth, where he knew Lily and James would be. They had fallen asleep together, their beds connected, sheets tangled about them both. They looked peaceful in sleep, James' head rested on her shoulder, and their hands were held together loosely between them. They had made their peace, perhaps more than he wanted to think about.
Sirius had dated before, but time and again, he had learned that he just wasn't the dating type. Love was elusive to him, always a half step out of reach. He didn't resent his mates when they found birds they fancied, but James was his best mate. They did everything together, achieved their Animagus' one after the other in fifth-year, the last of their friends to do so. They lived together in his parent's house over the summer hols, told each other everything. James had been chasing Lily for years, longer and more intensely than any of the other girls he had fancied. He had told Sirius more than once that he was going to marry her someday. Still, it was usually prefaced with bold (and often drunken) declarations about his future as the starting chaser for Puddlemore or the likely chances of going on a date with the beautiful barmaid at the Three Broomsticks. Sirius never thought that he was particularly serious about any of these proclamations in his sober state, but a small part of him was afraid that he did. If he married Lily, he would have no use for his old school mates, not with a woman like Evans on his arm. The thought of them together made him feel strangely alone— as if James had reached a previously unpronounced step and left the rest of them behind.
Sirius' heart gave a nasty lurch, the stifled conversation they had had the night before at the forefront of his mind. Were they not closer than that?
James had wanted Sirius to take the others back to their dormitory safely, saying that he'd be there in a minute. Couldn't he have helped better than being an over-glorified bodyguard for some of Evan's friends? He had snapped at James about loyalties, were they not best mates? Didn't they do everything together? And since when did they listen to what McGonagall had to say about being out of bed?
The lie he concocted fell smoothly out of thin air, the loose pieces of the confusing and increasingly convoluted narrative settling in a way that hid the more troubling bits of the truth. The Room was a secret one he would take to his grave, it was theirs and no one else's, and the fucker who was trapped up there would stay until he said otherwise. He regretted it now, fighting with James was the last thing he wanted to do, but what choice did he have? James had forced his hand, but he'd keep the Marauder's secrets even if James wouldn't.
The rest of them were still asleep, but Sirius didn't need much rest to get by, and there was so much he still needed to do. After tidying himself up in the bathroom, (and borrowing a shirt and a pair of trousers from James on the way), he made his way out of the dormitory.
Unsurprisingly, the castle was quiet. It was still early on a Sunday morning, and anyone with any sense was still in bed. He took his wand in hand and then took down the hall towards a shortcut to the seventh-floor corridor.
The wall that hid the Room of Requirement was innocuous and blank; the painting of Barnabas the Barmy was snoring loudly opposite. He paced the blank wall back and forth three times, asking for the Room to show them the man they immobilized the night before.
The door appeared slowly, and Sirius seized the wrought-iron handle and entered.
This iteration of the Room of Requirement was much the same as it was earlier, the same cabinets and wardrobes open and spilling their contents; the high windows spilled the late morning light in panels on the floor. He walked forward, his wand held steadily in front of him, towards the chair to which they had bound Amelia's attacker. Even with the light, the shadows deepened towards the back corners of the room, and he was nearly at the chair when he noticed the ropes were loose and piled on the floor, the chair empty and unoccupied.
Sirius spun about, casting the same charm he had the night before illuminating the space as a whole. He turned on the spot, checking all four corners, behind cabinets and wardrobes, before he came to the numbing realization that he had escaped.
Sirius tore from the Room, making for Lily and James' dormitory. If Amelia's attacker was after her in particular or just happened to be in the way was still a mystery to them. She was still in the Hospital Wing, unprotected and most likely asleep. Sirius had to find him as quickly as possible.
He slid the last length of the corridor in his haste to reach the door. It had only taken him and Remus three guesses before they guessed the password (Noble, his arse), and repeated it before the door swung open in front of him.
Sirius could've torn his hair out; they were all here! Still sleeping!
"He got out!" He shouted, moving to shake James awake. "Amelia's attacker, he escaped!"
Marlene sat up like a shot, wriggling her way out of her sheets and scrambling for her wand.
"Wha?" Peter said, pulling a Muggle sleeping mask from his face with a dopey expression.
"He's not in the Room?" Remus asked, pulling on his trainers with his wand between his teeth.
"Obviously not!" Sirius said, poking James hard in the chest before he too sat up, squinting as he reached for his glasses. Lily was already moving, reaching for her wand on the mantle before rushing off towards her dormitory. Sirius watched with exasperation as James' eyes followed her around the corner and smacked him on the back of the head to get his attention.
"He escaped, you prat!" Sirius yelled again. "We need to find where he went!"
James took off for the other side of the room, pulling on his dressing gown and tucking his father's Invisibility Cloak into his pocket.
"He might have tried the Hospital Wing," Lily said, rushing out of her dormitory fully dressed. "We should try there first."
"Right on," Remus said, nodding at Marlene and Peter as they took for the door.
…
Their run to the Hospital Wing was wrung with panic. Sirius was panicking; Mary was there too, defenceless and most likely asleep. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have thought to watch over them throughout the night, and God knows when the fucker escaped.
James and Sirius reached the bottom landing first and took for the double doors of the Hospital Wing together. But upon opening it, the room was quiet, the two beds bearing Amelia and Mary remained occupied but peaceful. Mary had jolted awake when the door opened, sitting up with a look of shock and confusion on her face, but Amelia slept on— still, but breathing steadily.
"What happened?" Mary asked, squinting with heavy eyes.
"Amelia's attacker," Lily said quietly, looking over at her sleeping friend. "He escaped the bonds Sirius and James put on him; he's loose somewhere in the castle."
"We came to see if you two were still safe," Remus said, moving over to Mary and squeezing her hand in his own.
"But he's not here," Sirius noted with a tone of exasperation. "We have to keep looking. Peter, make yourself useful and watch over them,"
"Me?" Peter said indignantly, looking rather foolish in his night things with only one slipper on his foot and a sleeping mask on his forehead. "What'd I do to deserve guard duty?"
"You're not the speediest, Pete, and we'll be moving quickly," James said, catching eyes with Remus, who shrugged noncommittally. "No offence,"
"None taken," he said dejectedly, sitting at the foot of Amelia's bed with a look of resignation.
"Okay," Sirius said, "here's the plan, we'll start from the ground floor and work up, moving from wing to wing if we need to,"
"Should we get Alice?"
"We'll wake her when we get to Gryffindor tower," James assured her.
"She won't like that," Marlene said, crossing her arms. "We need all the help we can get."
"But we're also tight for time, we have no way of knowing how long he's been loose for," Sirius responded, looking down at his pocket watch.
"Fine," Lily said. "But we should tell McGonagall. We need to be working with the teachers, so we're all on the same page."
"Okay," said James, turning towards her. "But I don't want any of us going alone. We're going together or not at all."
"That's what I was going to say," Remus noted, looking towards the Matron's office door. "Well said,"
"So long as we're all in agreement, we're losing time," Sirius said, clearly exasperated. "Come on, let's start looking. We'll tell McGonagall he's out when we get to her classroom."
Lily opened the heavy door and closed it softly behind her while the others ran ahead, already halfway up the marble staircase when they saw McGonagall coming out of a corridor to their left. She was cross but calm. "And just where do you think you're going?" she said, her lips pursed tightly.
"We went to visit Mary and Amelia," Marlene said quickly, and Remus swallowed.
"Then why particularly do you seem so keen to travel in the opposite direction?" She said as Professors Flitwick and Sprout appeared from behind her, the latter looking rather harried and windswept. "Well?"
"Nothing, professor,"
"Well then," McGonagall said, sweeping her robes together. "There seems to be no particular need for you to be anywhere but your beds, where you were instructed to be."
James groaned, and McGonagall looked up sharply. "Anything to add, Mr. Potter?"
"We were wondering," he said, fighting to steady his voice, "if you knew anything about Amelia's attacker,"
"The assailant was apprehended just before six o'clock this morning by a small legion of Aurors," McGonagall said stiffly. "Your assistance in this matter has been noted, but your example would be prudent, Mr. Potter,"
James nodded, not quite meeting her eyes.
"We'll do just that, professor," Marlene said. "And stay there."
"Good," McGonagall said. "Instructions will be given by Professor Dumbledore in an hour or two. Off you go, all of you. I assume you know the way,"
McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick, (and a squat figure Lily couldn't quite make out, but assumed to be Slughorn) disappeared down the corridor.
"Well, that's that, I suppose," Marlene said after the teachers left, joining the others as they made their way back up to their Common Rooms.
"I still wish we could've caught him ourselves," Sirius said shortly, taking each step with perhaps more force than necessary.
"I think we ought to be thankful someone did instead of wishing for an alternative outcome," Lily said shortly. "What's done is done,"
The walk up six flights of stairs was mostly silent. By the time they made the turn to James and Lily's dormitories, James stopped suddenly.
"Gryffindor is up another flight," he said, and Sirius stopped in his tracks, looking confused.
"I thought we decided that we'd use your dormitory for the next little bit," Remus said delicately.
Lily glared at James, "You'd be very welcome,"
"No, he wouldn't be,"
"Yes, he would! They all would!"
"Evans, it's our—,"
"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Lily interrupted and waited as the others walked around the corner before continuing.
"What did I do?"
"You were rude to our friends!" Lily exclaimed. "It couldn't possibly have been more obvious."
"This is our dormitory," James said, trying to keep the whine out of his tone. "Ours, not theirs,"
"We're not an island!" Lily said, stamping her foot. "We're not even a couple! They're your friends, and mine too, and you have no right to speak to them like that,"
"I want it just to be the two of us," James said. "Like we were last night! I miss—I miss what we had,"
"James, there are more important things than that right now!"
Was there? James thought. Were there more important things than how he felt about her, the love he held for her, the damn impulse he was beginning to have to protect her at all cost? Did that mean nothing to her? He looked down at his trainers, not brave enough to meet her eyes. "In the mornings, I miss how comfortable it was. "In our pyjamas; just the two of us,"
"You miss seeing me in my nightie?" Lily said aghast. "It hasn't even been twenty minutes since you saw me in it last."
"But the rest of them were there too," he said, his voice taking on a different tone. "Spoiling everything,"
"James, they're our friends," Lily said. "We're all worried about Amelia; they were just trying to be friendly,"
"We're supposed to be just by ourselves!" James said, looking up suddenly. "In isolation! McGonagall said so!"
"Oh, you are a child," Lily said, stopping and turning to face him, folding her arms in front of her chest. "I'm not a prize to be won, nor am I a possession for you to hoard for yourself. I am a person who has friends other than you, and more important things to worry about than whatever the hell we are these days! You're such a child,"
Lily began to turn, and James' heart lurched and suddenly took hold of her arm.
"Let go of me," Lily said, wrenching out of his grip.
"No," he said, stepping closer to her. "We need to talk,
"No," Lily countered, meeting his gaze. "You need to get your priorities straight. You're acting like a child, so until you shape up, I'll treat you like one. Goodbye, James,"
James groaned, pulling at his hair with his hands as she walked away. What the hell was she playing at? He? A child? This was so backward, wrong. Didn't she see how much he'd grown up for her? What he wanted wasn't childish, wasn't wrong, he just wanted her, her and her alone. Why couldn't she see that?
His heart slowed as he watched Lily walk down the corridor with the others, and he kicked the door in frustration, which left him with a sore foot and the same frustrations as he had before. But he had the cloak, and McGonagall said that Dumbledore was back. Without thinking, he pulled out his father's old cloak and slipped it on, and quietly walked the distance to the Headmaster's office, hellbent on answers.
…
Luckily, Slughorn had taken longer than the other teachers to enter Dumbledore's office, and he was able to slip in just behind him as the stone gargoyle turned to admit him. He took a step hastily up the rotating staircase to the Headmaster's office.
Several voices were coming from behind the door, and he stood a half step behind Slughorn as he knocked.
"Come in," Dumbledore said, and the commotion silenced at once.
The three other Heads of House were already present, as was the Auror Crouch, and several other wizards and witches he assumed to be Aurors as well. Dumbledore looked travel-weary, but attentive as Crouch pointed his finger repeatedly at a wizard just to his left. He was grizzled, with black hair and dark, beady eyes that looked around suspiciously as he and Slughorn entered the room. James' eyes grew round. He must be Amelia's attacker.
"If you could refrain from expletives in this office, I would be most grateful," Dumbledore said, his eyes bright and merry.
"Of course, Dumbledore," the man said stiffly, "I didn't realize she was a student-,"
"But ready nonetheless you were, Alastor," Crouch said with a blazing look in his eyes.
"Curse ready indeed," the Alastor man replied, returning his wand to its holster, his beady eyes fixed on Crouch. "It is my job to think as dark wizards do,"
"Dark wizards?" Slughorn said, turning to "There are no dark wizards at Hogwarts, you'd be mad to believe it."
"Hogwarts has always been safe," McGonagall says sharply. "There is no reason and no excuse for cursing an innocent girl!"
James took a step backward to avoid Slughorn's nervous pacing, flattening himself as best as he could against the bookshelf behind him, but if Slughorn noticed, he said nothing.
"What say you, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore looked calm, if tired. His travelling cloak was thrown over the back of his chair, and his robes were muddy and stained. "I agree," Dumbledore said, looking at those assembled down his nose. "With Minerva. Hogwarts is a place of learning, a safe place for students and faculty alike. Such actions will not be taken lightly, Barty, I will not have dangers unpronounced and unwarranted in this school."
Crouch nodded stiffly, casting furious looks in the Auror Moody's direction, but they appeared to go unnoticed.
"Horace, alert your house, Filius, Pomona and Minerva, yours as well. Remain in your common rooms; I will alert the Elves to provide you all with breakfast."
"Right you are," Slughorn said and turned to leave without another moment's thought. The others followed close behind.
As Dumbledore turned, James could have sworn he saw those bright blue eyes hovering over him for a moment before finding Moody's again.
"Your actions, while undoubtedly regrettable," Dumbledore continued. "Have had no lasting effects. Madame Pomfrey has just informed me that Miss Bones has regained consciousness and is very likely to make a full recovery."
Several of the portraits exhaled gratefully, but James kept his eyes fixed on Dumbledore.
"I didn't mean to hurt the girl—,"
"Nonetheless," Dumbledore continued, and Moody turned apprehensively towards him. "Aurors will continue to patrol Hogwarts until the war is won, and I hope to see you among their numbers."
"He cursed a child, Dumbledore!" Crouch said firmly, pointing a finger towards Moody. "He should be banished from the grounds!"
"I believe that I have made my decision and opinion on the matter clear, Barty, but I am happy to reconfirm them if it would put you at ease,"
"He will be put under an investigation," Crouch said, standing suddenly.
"What you do with your Aurors is quite beyond my control," Dumbledore said, standing. "But I have been away from Hogwarts for some time, and have many things to tend to before the day is finished."
Moody rolled a smile about on his lips before exiting after Crouch, and James surged forward to catch the door before it closed.
"I do believe I deserve a word, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said quietly, and James froze, and swore under his breath before pulling off the cloak.
"Yes, professor?"
"Your position as Head Boy would've granted you permission to participate in such discussions if you had asked," he paused, and James swallowed nervously. "However there is something to be said for a silent observer."
"Yes—yes, professor,"
"Take a seat; there is something I'd like to discuss with you,"
James pulled out the chair recently occupied by Moody and sat, his hands fidgety on his lap.
"That cloak is admirable," Dumbledore said, looking down at James. "May I?"
"Of course," James pulled the cloak from his dressing gown pocket and watched as Dumbledore ran his hands over the silvery fabric.
"An invisibility cloak lacking rips or tears are rare things these days," Dumbledore said, folding it carefully on his desk. "I, of course, do not require a cloak to become invisible, if you would pardon an old man on his vanity, James,
James smiled quietly.
"Where did you acquire such a thing?"
"It was my fathers'," James responded. "A Potter family heirloom,"
"Of course," Dumbledore said. "And what an heirloom it is."
"Professor?"
Dumbledore smiled and looked down at James. "Yes?"
"Where have you been? I've been asking after you, but no one would tell me where you'd gone,"
"They couldn't have told you," Dumbledore said. "No one knew. But that is a story for another day, James, and we have much more pressing matters to discuss."
"I thought that might be the case,"
"Your actions last night in the Room of Requirement, from all accounts spoken and unspoken, were notable. You may have saved her life,"
"How did you know about that?"
"I surmised, and you confirmed," Dumbledore said, smiling. "But that is neither here nor there. I am rather more clever than the average man,"
"Sirius did more than I did, sir," James said. "He blocked Moody's hex faster than I could've, and it was Marlene—,"
Dumbledore held up a hand, and James slowed to silence.
"When I decided in July to appoint you as the Head Boy, there were many who held, shall I say? Grudges, misconceptions of your character. Many thought me a fool for thinking you responsible enough for the role of Head of the school."
James fought to hold Dumbledore's eye, but very nearly failed. His eyes were such a vivid blue, and although he was far from shouting, or even holding an accusatory voice, James felt as if he had failed. Those rumours that Dumbledore had gone off his rocker in appointing him were not news to him, they had chased him since September, and the feelings of inadequacy and failure stuck to him like glue after the confidence of the day had passed. Dumbledore's opinion meant everything to James, and he'd rather be stuck in detention for the rest of his life than see those sad blue eyes on him for one more moment. He felt he should explain, offer examples of his proficiency, his maturity. He had grown tenfold since June; surely, he saw that?
"Yes, sir,"
"However, I had my reasons for your appointment. You are clever, surefooted, brave and loyal to a fault. When Amelia Bones seemingly disappeared from Hogwarts itself, I waited to see what you would do. When you hypothesized that she might've been held hostage in the Room of Requirement, you enabled your friends to work as a team, played to your strengths and worried for others' safety ahead of your own. You protected Mary, rescued Amelia. It couldn't have been done without you. And just now, sneaking into my office in your father's invisibility cloak to report back, no doubt to tell your friends about what the final sentencing would be. I'm impressed, James,"
"You shouldn't be," James said. "You make me out to sound like some sort of hero. I'm not. I just did what anybody else would've done."
"Nonetheless, the day is saved. Alastor Moody is a prodigious Auror, top of his class and experienced in catching Dark wizards. How Miss Bones strayed into his path is a mystery I hope you'll help me to untangle,"
"Sir?"
"Amelia is awake, James. Ask her what happened. Work with your friends to discover what occurred after she was kidnapped."
James looked down, embarrassed. "I'm not really speaking to my friends at the moment,"
"Not even Lily?"
James shook his head. "I said some things out of turn, and we fought. Ten minutes ago, that's why I'm here,"
"Well then," Dumbledore said, standing up suddenly. "Then I do believe it your responsibility as Head Boy to rectify the situation."
"Sir?"
"It was, one could say, not an accident that you find yourselves in a shared dormitory," Dumbledore said, his bright eyes twinkling, "I personally have found that proximity does wonders for exposing the true nature of things, wouldn't you agree?"
As James exited Dumbledore's office, he felt Dumbledore's words run through his mind. He walked, unconscious of his direction, but when he found himself at the corridor leading to both Gryffindor tower and his and Lily's dormitory, he took the staircase with a look of determination in his eyes.
...
I find it more likely in my heart of hearts that level headed, justice-focused Amelia Bones might take pity on her dormitory mate Lily's son come OotP if they had a history together. The only canonical age markers we have for Amelia Bones are in OotP, where she's described as middle-aged with greying hair, and later in HBP when she's identified by Fudge to be 'middle-aged'. There's a scene before Harry's journey to the Ministry before his hearing in OotP where Sirius and Lupin declare a familiarity with her, which to me suggests a prior connection, if not only as friends of friends. She also is described as having a 'booming' voice, which might come from someone who roomed with the likes of Alice and Marlene and was kidnapped by Mad-Eye Moody, developing something of a loud opinion on justice in the process.
Much like Lupin, who greyed prematurely due to his lycanthropy, I find it likely that Amelia Bones, having lost Marlene, Lily, James and Peter to premature death, Sirius to Azkaban and then Alice and her husband Frank to insanity, she might grey earlier in life than one might have done in other circumstances. I love having both her and Alice in this, as it paints a much more cohesive narrative to the canon and the Marauder era with familiar names and backstories.
Also, sorry not sorry to Alice for booting you back to Gryffindor Tower, and later Peter to the Hospital Wing, I just can't coordinate nine (NINE) people at once, because quite frankly that is nine people too many.
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