The Summer's Outlook

That night, James, Sirius, and Peter only got a few hours of sleep after being interrogated by Bartemius Crouch Sr. in a dimly-lit Ministry office. Once the Aurors had finished investigating the werewolf underground, Dumbledore had allowed James and his roommates to be transported to the Ministry with the confiscated cauldrons of Sanguine Solvent. They were treated with no more worth than the vials set upon the Head of Magical Law Enforcement's desk, and James found it hard to stay awake through Crouch's persistent barking while the Hogwarts Headmaster stood to the side, occasionally drifting out of the room to exchange a few words with Eugenia Jenkins or a passing Ministry worker. Just when James' yawns began to interfere with the interrogation, Dumbledore reentered the room and pulled the boys outside, gently telling Crouch off when he tried to detain them.

"Meet me in my office tomorrow if it so interests you," Dumbledore said, guiding the three pairs of feet outside, "but these boys need sleep. The end-of-the-year exams start tomorrow, you know, and rest is the most essential ingredient to a nimble mind!"

Even despite Dumbledore's promises, James was awoken far earlier than he would have liked by a thin house-elf that demanded his presence. Slipping out of his four-poster, James left Sirius and Peter snoring in their dormitory and accompanied the house-elf down to the ground-floor corridor, where he spotted Snape standing next to the Headmaster in fidgety silence. When Dumbledore spied James' approach, he smiled and lifted a hand.

"Good morning, young Potter! How was your night?"

"Could have been better," James replied honestly, rubbing the back of his head as he came to a halt.

"I presume that you have brought Mr. Snape's wand with you," Dumbledore said, and James nodded with a quick glance at Snape, who glared back at him as he fished into his pocket. "There," Dumbledore narrated as James passed on the wand, both him and Snape locking eyes for an instant. "Things are back in order. But Mr. Potter," he warned before the group could part ways, "thievery of any sort will not be tolerated at this school. I have already taken fifty points from Gryffindor for your actions, and I would advise that you not repeat your mistake."

"Yes, sir," James mumbled, lowering his eyes to the ground as the corner of Snape's mouth rose a hair's length. Turning, Dumbledore set off down the hallway with the house-elf, leaving the two boys standing alone.

"You think that you can get away with anything, don't you, Potter?" Snape sneered as soon as Dumbledore had left. "If I was in your place, I certainly wouldn't disappear for a day and traipse around with someone else's wand in plain sight."

"I wasn't traipsing anywhere," James snarled back, clenching his teeth. "And how did you know that I was gone? Only Dumbledore knew anything about it. He didn't tell you, did he?"

"No, but you're forgetting about another one of your Housemates," Snape responded, curling his lip. "How very like you to dismiss your fellow students."

"Diggle?" James guessed, paling. As the first-year's face came to mind, he wondered just how many people knew of his day-long disappearance by now.

"Dumbledore may have ordered him to keep quiet, but Conway overheard him talking with another student in passing," Snape explained. "I sorted out the rest of the story afterwards."

"What did you do to him?" James growled, taking a step forward.

"Who, Diggle? I didn't do anything to him. Unlike you, I don't bully my way into getting what I want." After his reply, however, Snape paused and tilted his head. "Well, Conway may have gotten a little antsy with Diggle, but don't fret: your bird-brained devotee didn't reveal anything that would betray you. It just so happens that the story's all over The Daily Prophet."

"What story?" James questioned, and a bead of sweat started to form behind his hairline as Snape leaned forward; James could not imagine Crouch or any of the other Ministry employees publishing the dubious actions of him and his roommates, at least not so quickly as this. Still, Snape's narrowed, ink-black eyes stirred a nauseous sensation in James' stomach, and he nearly retreated as the greasy-haired student sneered.

"Contrary to your loud-mouthed opinion, I'm not an idiot. I know where you went yesterday, as anyone would if they read between the lines. And between you and me," Snape hissed, his dark eyes flashing suddenly, "I wish that the werewolves had swallowed you whole!"

Only when Snape had left did the pounding in James' chest begin to subside, ending in a slow thump as he started in the opposite direction. Although he guessed that Snape would keep his discovery to himself out of respect for Dumbledore, the very fact that he knew of James' late-night adventure unsettled him. Suppose he ever found out how James and his roommates had ended up in Portree to begin with—or worse yet, why.

When James rejoined Sirius and Peter, they turned to normal conversation and journeyed together to the Great Hall for breakfast. However, they had barely made it down to the ground floor when Frank and Dill ran into them from the other direction.

"It feels like we haven't seen you around lately," Dill greeted, smiling as he and Frank approached. "What have you been up to?"

"Nothing much," Sirius answered, to which James and Peter shared a thin smile.

"If only we could say the same," Dill responded, sighing.

Seeing Frank's arms laden with textbooks, James pointed at his load. "Have you been preparing for the exams?"

"Only all night and this morning," Frank answered, rubbing his eyes. "I went out by the lake to study as soon as the sun rose just to get some quiet, but I'm not sure I stayed awake the entire time."

"If you turn to page eighty-three of Meteorology Mathematics, you'll find a bit of drool on the star-chart," Dill spoke, tapping one of Frank's textbooks.

"I saw Remus out by the beech tree," Frank informed the others after giving his friend a glare. "Were you going to meet him?"

"He's back—I mean, he's outside?" James asked, brightening.

"His dad was there, too," Frank told him. "It looked like they were talking about something important. I figured you would know what they were doing."

"Yeah, we were just about to meet them!" James told him, waving as he and his roommates started for the castle grounds. "Thanks loads!"

After running out of the castle's front doors, James, Sirius, and Peter came to a rapid halt when they spotted Mr. Lupin and Remus walking beside the lake, the older wizard's hand over his son's shoulders. The two were already on their way back towards the castle, but neither of them seemed to notice their spectators, still engaged in conversation. Waiting at the rise of the hill, James and the others watched as the Lupins drew slowly closer, the early sunrise outlining them in gold. Remus had his head down as his father spoke to him, and he carried a folded newspaper in his hand as he nodded every so often or gave a short word in answer. Finally, Mr. Lupin lifted his head and spied the three boys waiting at the top of the hill, and he pointed them out to Remus. Looking up, Remus brightened (was it James' imagination, or did he look a bit relieved?), and Remus led his father towards his roommates, who waited with their arms crossed.

"Hello, boys," Mr. Lupin greeted once he had reached them, avoiding direct eye contact with James and his friends. "I've just come to see Remus off." Patting his son's shoulder one last time, he wished, "Good luck with your exams. I'll see you at home."

Shuffling away in the other direction, he only managed to take a few steps before Remus whirled around and stopped him, seeming to make a split-second decision.

"Wait!"

Not expecting Remus' hug, Mr. Lupin almost stumbled backwards before returning the gesture, and the two held each other for a long moment before finally backing away.

"I'll see you soon," Remus said, adding afterwards, "I love you."

The corners of Mr. Lupin's mouth lifted. "I love you too, Remus. And I really don't deserve you," he said, forcing a laugh as he rubbed the top of his son's head.

Mr. Lupin turned once more towards the grounds. Watching him, Remus waited until Sirius cleared his throat. "What was that all about?"

"He just came to visit before our final exams," Remus explained as they all began to walk towards the castle. "He also wanted to see me after last night . . ." Stiffening, the others held their breaths, but Remus only looked up at them with a faint smile. "He told me more about the night when I first became a werewolf, actually. I suppose that the day after the full moon was as good a time as any. He seemed pretty shaken, so I guess it's been eating at him for a while now—I don't think that he could have waited until I got home."

"So there was nothing special about last night that made him visit?" James inquired, and Remus shook his head.

"I don't think so," he replied, frowning. "Unless . . ." Watching him carefully, James waited as Remus looked down at his copy of The Daily Prophet. "Well, I suppose that this could have caused it," he admitted, and his roommates quickly read the top article's title.

"Mass Werewolf Breakout: Death Eater Recruitment Confirmed?" Sirius read.

"It's the worst attack yet," Remus explained. "Apparently, a whole pack of werewolves tore through Portree, and not one of them was caught afterwards by the Auror Department. People are blaming Jenkins instead of taking it out on the Aurors." Looking down at the newspaper, he said, "Crouch, the Auror Head, has made his position on werewolves quite clear, so I suppose that no one can fault him."

"But what did the Minister do wrong?" Peter questioned.

"Mostly, people are blaming her for not keeping a stricter watch over the Death Eaters. Last night just pushed them over the edge after the scare. According to the article," he said, scanning the newspaper again, "four children were rescued from the werewolves' hiding place. Fortunately, they made it out all right, and they were able to confirm that the werewolves had joined forces with the Death Eaters."

Sharing a glance with the others, James suddenly understood how Snape had been able to figure out the previous night's events.

"Four kids, eh?" Sirius asked, smirking as he stared at the newspaper. "I wonder what they were there for!"

Remus' eyes lowered to the ground, and Sirius' grin immediately fell. "That's part of the reason why my father came," Remus admitted at nearly a whisper. "Apparently, the werewolf that turned me actually meant to. Fenrir Greyback—that's his name—positions himself around unsuspecting people just before the full moon, especially children." Swallowing, he scowled at his feet. "I thought that he hadn't meant it, not after I understood how awful the life of a werewolf is. But now I know where all the stories come from. We really can be monsters."

"Not all of you," James reminded him, slinging an arm around his shoulders, and Remus gave him a small smile.

"No, I guess not," he agreed, though he soon looked away again. "My dad also told me that Greyback had a . . . special reason for attacking me. The two of them had met before, and it wasn't exactly the friendliest meeting." Trailing off as the others eyed him, Remus sighed. "But no one's responsible for what Greyback did. I know that. Anyway, there's nothing we can change about it now."

When they reached the castle door, James asked Remus, "Are you feeling up to the exams? We can ask Dumbledore to let you out of today's tests if you want. I'm sure he'd understand."

"No, I'm all right," Remus answered. "Thanks for thinking of me, though. It's Professor Aven's exam first, right?"

Together, the four roommates set off for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, hurrying to make it on time. However, they paused when they reached the second floor, slowing just in front of the Gargoyle Corridor as Dumbledore and Crouch walked into view with a group of students trailing after them. At the sight of Crouch, James might have decided to keep on walking in case the Head of Magical Law Enforcement tried to stop him for questioning again, but he allowed himself to stop when he spotted Professor Aven conversing with the Ministry visitor as well. When he and his roommates joined the whispering group, one more familiar face looked out from between Dumbledore and Crouch, and Dedalus Diggle waved at the other Gryffindors with a beam. James noticed that his left eye looked a bit darker than usual around the edges.

"That's all for now, Headmaster," Crouch announced, ignoring the gawking students as he strode forward briskly. "I may give Diggle an additional visit in the summer, once the Auror Department has more information on last night's proceedings. Your family won't object, of course?" he asked the first-year without much room in his voice for disagreement.

"No, sir!" Diggle responded with a chipper smile. "Will I be published in The Daily Prophet?"

"Er—we'll see," Crouch replied with a twitch of his mustache, and Diggle's grin grew even wider as Crouch turned to Dumbledore. "And you can confirm that he's told the truth?"

"I can't speak for the whole story, but his tale matches with my understanding," the Headmaster answered.

"Thank you for sitting in, Professor," Crouch told Professor Aven with a nod. "It never hurts to have more than one expert listening from the side."

"Of course!" Aven responded, but James noticed that his hands had begun to fidget at his sides.

"I'm off to the Ministry," Crouch announced once he had made his proper farewells, adjusting his outer cloak. "The Magical Law Enforcement Patrol will be in upheaval without me. I can't trust those fools to do anything on their own anymore."

As Crouch complained, James turned his head at the sound of tapping footsteps, and he spotted Bartemius' straw-haired head as he jumped up the top of a nearby staircase. The click-clack of his shoes echoed closer as he pushed past the other students and marched up to Crouch.

"Father, I didn't know that you were here!" he greeted, stopping short as Crouch looked his way. "Didn't you want to see me?"

"I'm just attending to business matters, nothing you need concern yourself with," Crouch responded, waving off his son and stepping past him. "Headmaster, I'll speak with you again at the next Wizengamot gathering. There's a handful of important decisions coming up, not to mention the slew of discussion that last night's events will have brought to—"

"Are you here about what happened last night?" Bartemius interrupted, hurrying after Crouch before he could leave the group of students behind. "I read about it in the paper, and I wondered if—"

"Not now, Barty!" Crouch snapped, whirling on his son. "Can't you see that I'm busy?"

Clenching his jaw, Bartemius waited silently while Dumbledore turned to Crouch. "I won't keep you waiting," he told him, casting a short glance down at Bartemius. "However, perhaps you would like to stay a bit longer and catch up with your son's schooling?"

"I don't have time," Crouch responded, adjusting his left cufflink. "I'm running late as it is. I'll see you soon, Headmaster."

Turning, Crouch marched down the hall while Bartemius spun towards Professor Aven, his silence suddenly ending. "Why did he come to Hogwarts? Nothing happened here, did it?" Whirling on Diggle when Aven did not respond right away, he demanded, "Why were you with my father? Did he have something to ask you? What do you know about last night?"

Although he shrunk back from the barrage of questions, Diggle still wore his unceasing smile as Dumbledore put a hand on Bartemius' shoulder. "Now, now, let's not overwhelm him. He needs some space before his first exam—and speaking of which," he broke off with a glance at the gathered students, "I believe that you all have places to be."

Heeding the pointed look in his crystal-blue eyes, the students began to disperse, but Bartemius remained stewing in place as Dumbledore turned to Diggle. Taking only a few steps away with the other students, James eavesdropped with his roommates.

"After your exemplary actions last night, I have decided to bestow you with a Special Award for Services to the School," Dumbledore said. "Take it as an appreciation of your quick-thinking."

"Thank you, Headmaster!" Diggle told him with a beam, puffing out his chest as Professor Aven gulped.

"But then," Aven whispered to Dumbledore as Diggle skipped off, "students from Hogwarts really were involved?"

Casting a short glance at Bartemius, who promptly stopped his staring and turned around, Dumbledore nodded almost imperceptibly. "It's been an eventful night."

Paling, Professor Aven licked his lips. "But—but they were at Hogwarts!" he protested. "Nowhere is safer than Hogwarts!"

"That's the strange thing about safe havens," Dumbledore responded. "They only work if you stay in them."

"But to think that they got out so easily!" Aven muttered to himself, looking at the floor. "And with the mass attack last night, anything might happen!" Grabbing Dumbledore's arm, he demanded, "You don't suppose that the werewolves might come back for the students, do you? Not back to Hogwarts?"

"Even if they were to think of lashing out, I would be surprised if they could manage to get past the front gate," Dumbledore replied evenly, heading back down the Gargoyle Corridor with his hands clasped behind his back. "I wouldn't dwell on it long, Perdix."

Despite Dumbledore's answer, Professor Aven continued to fiddle with his hands as he scurried after the Headmaster, attempting to match his purposeful stride as he whispered something beyond hearing range. Frowning, Sirius stared after the two of them as James and the others turned for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"Shouldn't the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor be a little braver?" Sirius asked aloud. "You'd think that he'd be more put together."

"He did seem a little skittish," James agreed, casting a glance over his shoulder.

"Oh, I wouldn't give him a hard time," Remus spoke, waving them off with his hand. "I might be just as nervous if I was him."

"What do you mean?" Peter questioned.

"Yeah, what're you on about?" Sirius added, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, Aven?" Remus asked, a hint of a smile turning up his mouth. "He's a Squib."

"HE'S A WHAT?" the others all exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed that he's never used a wand in class before," Remus told them, never slowing his pace.

"But—but—" Peter stammered.

Jogging to catch up to Remus, James objected, "You can't be serious! I won't believe it!"

"Yeah!" Sirius added, running up to his other side. "We can't have a professor who isn't able to do any magic!"

"I always assumed that Dumbledore had a hard time finding a candidate," Remus replied, shrugging. "Our professor last year was almost killed, and he had to pull her out of the Auror Department to teach in the first place."

"But this isn't right!" Peter gasped again, and James nearly jumped back as his roommate suddenly clenched his fists. "NO! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! AVEN'S BEEN LOADING US WITH HOMEWORK ALL YEAR, AND HE CAN'T EVEN CAST THE LEVITATION CHARM! IT'S UNFAIR!"

Although still baffled by Remus' revelation, James had to stifle a laugh at Peter's frustration. "Blimey," Sirius commented, shaking his head. "Well, I've always wondered what a Muggle would have to say about things like werewolves and magic schools. A Squib would be like the same thing, right?"

"Not really," Remus told him. "I mean, they already know about magic."

"I guess that I could always ask a Muggle-born student," Sirius said, glancing around the hallway. "I can't think of anyone to ask, though."

"There's always Evans," James pointed out. "Why don't you ask her?"

Starting, Sirius blinked a few times before shaking his head. "No, I meant like a real Muggle-born. You know, someone who isn't at the top of Charms and Potions—someone who doesn't know more about magic than Dumbledore and McGonagall put together. You know, a Muggle-born who acts like one."

As Sirius averted his gaze to Peter, who was still tearing at his hair, James felt a smile threatening to edge up his face.

Admittedly, James felt rather silly throughout the Defense Against the Dark Arts exam after his new understanding of Aven, and he could not help but let his eyes wander up to the professor now and again, wondering just how much of the material he actually knew. In the end, he figured that the exam would be an easy pass, and even Peter seemed confident of his results after spending an hour muttering a string of oaths over his roll of parchment.

The rest of the exams passed remarkably quickly after the weekend's excitement, but James' parents paid a visit halfway through the week at a letter from Professor McGonagall. Two days earlier, McGonagall had explained to James the necessity of the letter, which documented the details of his experiences in Portree and requested the Potters' presences; she had sent copies of the letter to the Black and Pettigrew households as well, and although James, Sirius, and Peter had accepted the decision in resignation, James knew by Sirius' steeled jaw that he dreaded his parents' reactions. All James could do for his friend's sake was pray that the Blacks would ignore the summons, but he doubted that they would be so careless with a direct request from the Gryffindor Head of House.

"But werewolves!" James' father exclaimed when he and his wife stood inside Dumbledore's office, accompanied by the Headmaster and their son's two roommates. "James, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," James answered, shifting his feet. Those in the office were still waiting for Mrs. Pettigrew and the Blacks to show up, but James had already been subjected to a series of questions and coddling.

"You can't have followed a street dealer all the way to Portree just before your exams!" James' mother cried, her mouth hanging open. "What were you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, Mum," James mumbled, and he knew better than to wriggle away as his mother bent down to wrap him in a hug.

"I should be angry with you, but I'm just so glad that you're all right!" she sniffed, nearly smothering James with her cherry-scented hair.

"And what about you two?" James' father asked, turning to Sirius and Peter. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, sir," both of them replied, starting a little. Standing just in front of his desk, Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"They've all been checked for injuries, of which they sustained none," he informed the Potters. "And judging from your son's red features, I think that they're going to be just fine psychologically."

"But how—" James' mother began, but the sudden slamming of the office door cut her off as every eye in the room turned to Mr. and Mrs. Black.

"Headmaster," Mr. Black greeted upon entry, and Sirius crossed his arms at the sight of his father's scowl. "You summoned us?"

"I did indeed," Dumbledore replied, his voice in his usual state of calm. "Thank you for joining us at such short notice."

"What exactly are we here to discuss?" Mrs. Black sneered, the ends of her raven hair almost smoking as Dumbledore turned to her.

"I was hoping that we could wait for Mrs. Pettigrew before explaining the situation. I don't want to go through it more times than necessary."
"We shouldn't have to wait!" Mr. Black insisted, his dark eyes blazing. "This whole situation is preposterous! Suggesting that our firstborn would gallop about with an undercover herd of filthy half-breeds! Just who do you think you are?"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the Headmaster responded. "Who do you think you are?"

As the dark-haired man spluttered, Mrs. Black clenched her fists. "Stop this nonsense! Sirius would have never left school on such a foolish errand!"

"Rest assured," Dumbledore interjected, taking a few steps forward, "I would have never interrupted your schedules if it was not for something important. As it stands, we have quantifiable proof of Sirius' involvement in the Portree affair, as well as for the other two students standing here. I am but one of many witnesses who can testify to their skirmish with the werewolves, although that is not the primary issue here. Your accompaniment was requested to serve as consolation after the somewhat worrisome letter you received. But as you can see, Sirius is quite all right."

"Well," Mrs. Black spoke after a slight pause, turning her suddenly lightless eyes on Sirius, "if what you say is true, then our son had better choose his appeals for grace carefully."

Pressing his lips together, Sirius kept his eyes on the floor as Dumbledore spread out his hands. "The children have already been disciplined according to school standards, although nothing too harsh after their adventure. Most of their punishment was taken care of during their imprisonment, I'm afraid."

"I hope that you haven't been too lenient with them," Mr. Black spoke, curling his lip slightly. "This sort of disobedience requires a firm hand."

"They've been through a lot," James' mother spoke up from the side, but the Blacks paid her no heed—Mrs. Black, in fact, spun in the other direction.

"Get outside, Sirius!" she commanded, but Sirius stayed put as he glanced quickly at Dumbledore and the Potters. Clearing his throat, Dumbledore addressed the Blacks before they could speak again.

"I had hoped that we could take care of our business in my office," he said, and James recognized the blue glinting behind his spectacles as a sign of dwindling patience. Mr. and Mrs. Black, however, did not seem to notice his warning, and the latter turned on Dumbledore with bared teeth.

"We'll be the judge of what's necessary for our son!" Mrs. Black spat, snapping her long-nailed fingers at Sirius. "Sirius! Over—here—now!"

As Sirius swayed in place, Dumbledore folded his arms. "I don't believe I made myself clear: that wasn't a suggestion. You will have to remain in my office for whatever you plan to say."

After holding his gaze for a long moment, Mrs. Black finally turned her head. "Fine," she hissed, and she marched up to Sirius with astonishing speed before grabbing his arm. "What were you thinking, treating your family like that? What was your father supposed to say at the Ministry if the story leaked out? Druella and her family would have never let us hear the end of it, and just imagine how your grandfather would react! He'd cut us off if you made our family a point of public ridicule!"

"But they don't know, so what does it matter?" Sirius objected, attempting to wrest away.

"Don't talk back to me!" Mrs. Black threatened, giving him a shake as James' parents fought to keep themselves from intervening. "This isn't something to laugh about! You've given your father and I cause for embarrassment, as if your previous antics haven't been enough!"

"It wasn't my fault that I was nearly eaten!" Sirius defended, now matching his mother's vehemence.

"You were the one to run away from school, so watch your tone! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, abandoning your education for some willy-nilly venture into a werewolf den! You might have died! How were we supposed to react, then?"

"I don't know, maybe like you cared?"

James could have heard a quill drop. Sirius and Mrs. Black had frozen with their eyes locked on each other, and not even Mr. Black dared to break the tension between the two. Only the quiet clap of Peter's hand ascending to his mouth interrupted the silence, and the rest of the room watched with wide eyes as Mrs. Black's grip on Sirius' arm tightened.

"HOW DARE YOU—WHY WOULD—WHAT ARE YOU SUGGESTING?" she finally burst, but when she spoke again, her voice had dropped to a more tolerable level. "Of course we care! I would never forgive myself if you had gotten hurt!"

"You're hurting him now!" James' mother cried, gesturing at the fingernails digging into Sirius' skin.

Spinning on her, Mrs. Black snarled, "He's not your son! Stay out of this!"

"Madame, might I suggest that you take a step back," Dumbledore spoke, swishing forward.

"NEITHER OF YOU HAS THE RIGHT—"

"Madame!" Dumbledore insisted again, his voice rising and cutting her off. "You are beside yourself! Anything you do now, you could regret later!"

Eyes blazing, Mrs. Black held his gaze for several long moments, but she finally released Sirius' arm and straightened as he rubbed the red mark. Turning around, she stalked back towards her husband as Mr. Black stared at Sirius coldly.

"We're taking you home," he announced, and Sirius snapped his head upright.

"You can't do that!" Sirius spluttered. "It's exam week!"

"No, we're taking you home," his father repeated, straining the last word. "As soon as school ends, you're staying at Grimmauld Place. No more trips into town or summer visits. You're confined to the house until your studies start again."

"And I know where all this bad influence is coming from," Mrs. Black growled, glaring at James. Facing her son again, she pointed at the Potters. "I don't want to see you anywhere near this family again!"

"Bad influence?" James' father stammered, drawing himself up, but Dumbledore held up a hand before he could react.

"That's quite enough," he interjected before turning to the Blacks. "I had hoped that this would be a time of reconciliation, but I see my mistake." Facing Sirius, he said, "You may leave anytime. Your presence is no longer required—and neither are yours," he added, nodding at the Blacks.

Stiffening, Sirius' parents scowled at Dumbledore. "You can't keep us from our son forever!" Mrs. Black accused, and she glowered at Sirius one last time before stomping out of the door. "After this week, Sirius. Home."

Although Dumbledore ushered the Blacks out quickly, everyone in the room was shaken after their intimidating visit. Sirius grew reticent after he and his roommates were dismissed from the meeting, but James did his best to cheer him up while they were still together. When their final week at Hogwarts ended, James and his friends filled their journey back to London with cheery conversation, their adventure in Portree now put completely behind them.

When the Hogwarts Express finally slowed at King's Cross Station, James trooped out onto the platform with his roommates and prepared to say his goodbyes. Before any of them could speak, however, Peter pointed over their heads with a jump.

"It's her!"

Spotting Mrs. Black standing across the platform with her husband, the four boys scattered, James and Sirius racing alongside the Hogwarts Express as the others waved goodbye and ran off to join their families. Coming to a halt farther down the platform, James panted and ruffled his hair back as Sirius glanced over his shoulder in the direction of his parents.

"I'm sorry that I won't get to visit," he said, looking down. "I was afraid for a moment that we wouldn't even get to say goodbye."

"That was a close call back there, wasn't it?" James joked, but the shudder he gave was only halfway forced. "Your mum is even scarier than Professor McGonagall!"

"I'm really going to hate the next few months," Sirius mumbled, kicking at the ground.

"Hey, don't worry!" James told him, taking him by the shoulder. "Even if they won't let you visit, your parents can't stop us from talking to each other! We still have our two-way mirrors, remember?"

"I'll just have to make sure that mine doesn't get confiscated," Sirius replied, giving a small smirk.

"And if you ever really need to escape," James added, "you know my address. The fireplace will always be open."

"Hey, thanks," Sirius answered, "but I think I'll have to stay in one place over the summer. Mundungus owes us big time after leaving us for werewolf food, and I need him to retrieve my motorbike. It's still stuck in Portree somewhere, and if anyone can get it back, it's that old bat."

"How do you know that Mundungus will respond?" James questioned. "The Sniff-Out Spell should be broken by now, shouldn't it?"

"Yes, but the Ministry doesn't know that Mundungus was the one to sell the werewolves supplies for the Sanguine Solvent," Sirius answered, grinning. "And if he wants to keep it that way, he'll have to deliver the motorbike back to your place."

Grinning, James nodded. "I'll be waiting for it," he said, but he soon looked over Sirius' shoulder as a head of red hair bounced out of the puffing train. Ruffling his hair again, James told Sirius, "I think that I'll go see Evans off for the holidays."

"Honestly, James, you've got to get your head checked," Sirius told him, but he only shook his head as he looked Lily's way. Smirking at something farther down the platform, Sirius reached into his pocket and toyed with a Dungbomb. "I think I'd rather deal with him, if that's all right with you," he spoke, nodding towards a greasy head a short distance from Lily.

"Go right ahead," James responded, feeling a smile creep across his face before nodding at his friend. "I'll talk to you soon, all right?"

He and Sirius parted ways with a mutual nod, and James set off towards Lily as his roommate slid off into the crowd, his arsenal hidden behind his back.

"Oi, Evans!" James called, waving before Lily could disappear. "Have you done something different with your hair today?"

Starting, Lily turned around and scowled when she saw him. "Just when I thought I'd be rid of you for the summer," she sighed. "What did you come here for?"

"I've come to see you off!" James proclaimed, stopping a few paces in front of her with his hands behind his back.

"Well, goodbye then," she said, turning and taking a step in the other direction. Seeing Snape standing unsuspectingly behind her, James jumped forward.

"Wait!" he cried. When Lily glanced his way again, he stammered, "We haven't had the chance to . . . er . . ." Narrowing her eyes, Lily moved her head to follow his gaze over her shoulder, but James quickly blurted out, "We haven't had the chance to talk about next year!"

"What about next year?" Lily asked, frowning.

"Er . . . I thought that we might meet up," James replied, rubbing the unruly spot of hair on the back of his head.

"I'm sure that we will, walking to and from our classes," Lily answered and she turned to walk away again.

"Wait, you can't go!" James insisted, and she stopped long enough look back at his lopsided grin. "We haven't decided if I'm taking you out to the Three Broomsticks or Madam Puddifoot's yet!"

"Your cheek, Potter!" Lily exclaimed, rolling her eyes. "But I can tell that you're hiding something. What is it that's behind me?"

Spinning around, she disregarded James' protest just as Sirius charged out of the crowd, aiming his Dungbomb for Snape's feet. Crying out, Lily tried to warn her Slytherin friend, but Snape had already turned in the other direction to sneer at Sirius, who nearly fell over as he backpedaled into a family behind him. The scene seemed to play out in slow-motion, and yet James felt as if he barely had time to pick up his feet and run off as the Dungbomb exploded, left unseen by Snape after his abrupt rotation. Turning around as Sirius began to howl with laughter, Lily shouted over the disgusted exclamations of the surrounding families.

"POTTER!"

Congratulations on making it to the end of the story! Your dedication means so much to me, and I hope you were entertained. Always feel free to leave a comment or suggestion! I have been hard at work planning and revising the next year at Hogwarts, and although I can't yet project a publish-ready date, I can promise that good things are in the making! Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to finish JP5 as quickly as possible (while still making it good). Stay tuned for James Potter and the Pureblood Patriarch!