The characters and locations of Harry Potter are property of J. K. Rowling. (My original characters just get to play there.)

Chapter 8 - Darkening Clouds

James groaned as he struggled back to consciousness. Last he remembered was reaching to shake hands with Edvard Kaiser to agree on a truce the rest of the school year. Then nothing. The throbbing in his temple scattered his focus as he tried in vain to remember the next link in the chain of events. He remembered movement behind him before their hands actually clasped. Maybe. It might be a fantasy. But Edvard, he was real. It was not a dream they were in the hall outside this unused classroom about to shake hands. James tried to focus on details flowing past his mind's eye like a rapidly running stream. Just before he blacked out he saw an expression of shock on Edvard's face. Whoever put James under wasn't Kaiser and wasn't the Bulgarian's partner. It was someone neither boy expected to be in that room.

Waiting.

This was planned by the assailant but Edvard wasn't in on the plan. Did they know that Kaiser was going to call for a truce between the two of them? Did this person know of the enmity between the two boys? It was a giant unknown. James didn't even know how long he'd been out, and was unable to look at his watch, his vision still a blur. He ran his hand through his hair but felt nothing amiss, meaning it wasn't a physical attack. There would have been a lump if he'd been cracked over the head with a blunt object. That left a Stupify, and a bloody strong one too. He tried shaking the fog off but only succeeded in creating a flash of pain, so he couldn't entirely rule out concussion. Only the school medical staff could do that. James staggered to his feet and slowly made his way to the Infirmary, muttering "Why me?" every few steps.

James pushed through the double doors to the Infirmary, glad he didn't have to walk another step and relieved something would be done about the pounding behind his eyeballs. He shut his eyes and winced as another wave of throbbing stabbed through his brain, his breath sucking in sharply.

"It's him," an angry voice whispered.

James tried to look toward the voice but only caused a wave of nausea from the pain between his temples.

"He's got a lot of nerve showing his face here!"

A seventh year rushed up to James and slammed him against the wall, James's robe lapels clenched in the older boy's hands and pressed into James's throat. His vision began to fill with stars as he came closer to passing out, too weak to break the other boy's grip. Darkness began to flow in from the edges of James's vision. He only had a few more moments before he was completely unconscious. He closed his eyes and prepared to give himself over to the shadows.

"Enough!"

James crumpled to the floor as the pressure released from around his throat. He gasped a ragged breath trying to keep his bearings. Whose voice was that?

"What is the meaning of this, Mr. Matthews? Attacking another student?" A different voice. It sounded like the Headmistress.

"He attacked first," said the seventh year. "He strolled into our class, froze all of us, and blasted poor Emily with a bunch of Crucios. It's not bad enough one of those damn Brits killed her mother. Now one of them has to go and torture her too?"

"Wasn't me," James could barely get out, his whole body drained and weak.

"LIAR!"

James's hip exploded in pain as the seventh year landed a swift kick. He would have landed more but James heard an adult voice thunder out "Relashio!" followed by a thud as a body hit the floor. He snuck a glance and saw the seventh year bound head to toe in ropes. That small movement caused another flash of intense pain shoot through his skull. His head would fall off if he tried to see who cast the spell. A pair of orderlies lifted James off the floor and put him in a cot as far as possible away from the other knot of students. He could definitely remember being in the hallway near Wampus house immediately after breakfast and waking up in a classroom in that very same wing. It sounded as if the classroom the other students were in was in the potions wing. There was no way that much time would be missing unless he had been hit with an extremely strong Stupify, but no way for him to confirm it by himself. He lay back and closed his eyes, trying to remember what had happened this morning.

"You were doing so well staying out of trouble." James's eyes fluttered open to see Headmistress Two-leaf staring at home, a look of disappointment on her face.

"I wasn't in trouble until someone hit me with a wicked strong stunning spell," James said in a rough voice. "I never left the Wampus dormitory area this morning."

An older Mediwizard flicked his wand at James and he felt the tingling of a diagnostic spell. "That much is true, Adelaide. He was hit with a Stupify. Now how strong or how long ago I can't really determine."

The Headmistress grabbed James's wand and muttered a quiet spell. Reddish light shot out of the tip of his wand followed by the ghostly image of a girl frozen in place, tears rolling down her cheek as if in excruciating pain. The image repeated a total of five times before being replaced with an image James remembered. "How do explain this, Mr. McCrea?"

"I don't understand, Professor. What were those images?"

"Priori Incantatum," Professor Two-leaf said softly, "just showed me the last several spells your wand performed. They were all the Cruciatus Curse."

"'Tis bloody impossible, Professor. I was nowhere near that end of the school." James fought to keep his composure. "And take a closer look at my wand, please."

"What of it?" At the Headmistress asked in an unimpressed tone.

"My wand is made of rowan wood, Ma'am. I don't know what wandlore here in the United States says about it, but Gerbold Olivander himself told me the day I got this wand that rowan will not choose an evil witch or wizard. There is no way I was holding that wand if an Unforgivable was cast with it."

"Well unless someone can vouch for you being knocked out where you said you were I have a hard time accepting what you say is true."

"Edvard. Edvard Kaiser." James said firmly.

"You're not trying to tell us he cast the Stupify at you?"

"No, but he was there when I did get hit. He had to have seen who hit me!"

"I thought the two of you were avoiding each other? Under my instructions."

"He came up to me as I left the dining hall this morning," James began. "He wanted to call a truce between us. He said it was getting too difficult for him to stay out of my way. I remember we were talking in the hall outside the classroom I woke up in."

Professor Two-leaf nodded brusquely and flicked her wand. A jet of silver poured out and formed into a falcon. She whispered at it a moment then it took off and sped through the halls. A Patronus, and cast silently to boot. James felt equal parts impressed and scared as he looked at the powerful witch. Who was she summoning?

"He probably stunned himself!" the seventh year barked.

"Shove it, you tosser," James hissed back. "Stupify wasn't one of the spells Professor Two-leaf revealed."

James's head still throbbed but the effects of the Stupify were beginning to dissipate. He sat up on the medical cot and winced as a sharp jet of pain shot through his left eye but he resisted the urge to lie back down. He needed to be up to face the problem and awake enough to keep his wits about him. A creaking brought his attention to the doorway as Edvard strode in, followed by his head of house, Professor Balto. His rival looked nervous while the older wizard looked annoyed.

"What is the meaning of this, Adelaide? Why is my charge being persecuted here?"

"Calm down Janus. Edvard is here as a possible witness, nothing more?"

"And vat am I supposed to have witnessed, Headmistress?"

"Mr. McCrea was hit with a stunning spell around the time he says you and he were calling a truce. Did you see who stunned him or did you witness someone in the immediate area who might have been a potential culprit?"

James watched Edvard closely and thought he had a nervous look, as if he knew but was afraid to say. His rival fingered is chin for several seconds before taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. He kept glancing at Professor Balto whose own face remained blank and unchanging as if trying to present a steady atmosphere for his student to explain what had happened.

"It is true, Headmistress, that I had asked Mr. McCrea to agree to a truce between us. It was getting too difficult for me to totally avoid his presence and still be able to attend and study for my own classes. We shook hands and he was still standing when I walked away. I did not notice another soul in the hallway when I…left…him."

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Kaiser?" the Headmistress asked, trying to dig deeper.

"My memory is telling me that is vat happened, but I have a nagging feeling this is not right. That I should be telling you a different story." Edvard shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs, then said with more certainty, "I am sorry, but it is just a feeling. It could not have happened any other way than how I have told you. After shaking hands on the truce, I made it back to my common room without incident. If McCrea was attacked it was after I left him."

"Are ye sure laddie," James asked in a pleading tone, "I thought I saw your eyes go wide as we shook, as if someone had snuck up behind me and surprised the both of us."

"A moment, Headmistress." Professor Balto stepped over to Edvard and cast some sort of scanning spell, similar to the one he used at the beginning of the school year. "Unbelievable. Someone used Obliviate on Mr. Kaiser, as if to cover their tracks"

A chorus of disbelief rang through the infirmary. Many voices were convinced that James had messed with Edvard's memory. The cooler heads, the Headmistress among them, knew that charm was not one of the past ones she had coaxed from James's wand just minutes earlier, but the mob wouldn't hear of it. They were out for blood now and wanted to exact a pound of flesh from James. It took many threats and a huge amount of effort on the part of the Mediwizards running the infirmary to get the angry knot of students out to the hallway while the teachers moved to the relative privacy of the Chief Mediwizard's office.

"This is very disquieting, Janus."

"To say the least, Adelaide. I can't believe another student would do this to either boy. Unless…"

"You have a thought?"

"Yes, but you may not like it."

"You are the Department head for Defense Against the Dark Arts. I trust you."

Professor Balto sighed before answering, as if trying to regain composure. "There is still the possibility that Mr. McCrea himself cast the memory charm at Mr. Kaiser. Clearly not with his own wand. But he could have used Edvard's own wand against him."

"I see. Since I didn't perform Priori Incantum on Mr. Kaiser's wand I have no choice but to regard your theory as mere speculation and, from what I've gotten to know of Mr. McCrea, a rather farfetched speculation. Unless more evidence shows up to the contrary, we are looking for another student, Janus."

"As you wish, Headmistress," Professor Balto conceded, his face impassive. "Are you yourself speculating that this mystery student cast Imperious at Mr. McCrea as well? We have a whole classroom of seventh years that swear it was James McCrea who came into their room, froze everyone, and cast the Cruciatus curse at poor Emily Rogers, which his own wand confirms he cast. And you believe I am the one with the wild theory?" He turned and left the infirmary, his stoic mien hiding his elation that the Master's plan was moving along nicely.

James watched the adults leave the office after their short discussion. Professor Balto had no expression on his face, which was itself very unusual. There had never been a day where James saw the DADA teacher without a look that spoke of sniffing and tasting rotten lemons. To have it not betraying any emotion frightened the young wizard a bit. What had they discussed that had Balto's knickers in a twist? The door out to the hallway closed with a crash behind the man, a sure sign he was much more upset than he wanted others to think.

"A penny for your thoughts, Mr. McCrea?"

James looked up to see Master Wrappe, the Chief Mediwizard of Ilvermorny by his bedside. "I'm not sure, Sir, other than I've never seen Professor Balto so upset before. Of course I've not been here long enough to get a true read of the man."

"Oh you've gotten his measure true enough," the elderly medic said. "Janus is one to hold grudges if he thinks he's right. Sometimes for decades."

"And he takes his frustrations out on students?"

Wrappe barked a short laugh. "You see him more clearly than instructors that have been here much longer than Balto have, and he has been an Ilvermorny teacher for many decades."

"So what has him in a snit now?"

"He and I had a disagreement and he felt his opinion was ignored or discounted," said Headmistress Two-leaf.

"About...?" James asked, a nervous quaver coloring his voice.

"You, Mr. McCrea." the Headmistress continued. "He is not convinced you were a victim, although he was voicing his displeasure at me. He was trying his best to protect a student from his house."

"Protect?" said James, confusion setting in. "I never said Edvard had done anything, only been a potential witness."

"I think he's going on the past history between you two boys. He accused you of casting Obliviate on Edvard. He had found traces of the spell on Mr. Kaiser and leapt to the only conclusion his mind could conceive."

James sighed and closed his eyes, trying to hide the lingering effects of the Stupify and hide his frustration at the situation. Was Edvard really the victim of an Obliviate? That seemed more than enough evidence for James to conclude that the mysterious third person in that hallway was the trouble maker. But the adults didn't see it that way. Or at least Professor Balto didn't. Headmistress Two-leaf had quite the poker face and James had no way of getting a good read on her. It was a skill his father had begun teaching him before he could hold a wand, as a way of grooming James to follow him into the Foreign Service. Yet this skill failed him now as ponder the inscrutable woman. It left him no clue to his fate.

"Will I be needing to pack my bags?" He didn't bother opening his eyes.

"No Mr. McCrea," Professor Two-leaf said gently. "I do believe you are innocent of casting an Unforgivable Curse but my belief is not proof. Unfortunately, the evidence we do have points directly to you."

"I was out long enough that someone could have grabbed my wand and brought it back after doing the deed."

"I have indeed considered that as the most likely scenario. Yet I cannot explain away how over a dozen seventh years and a Professor all say it was you who cast the spells."

James continued to think, running through the various possibilities in his mind. If an Obliviate was cast on Edvard could the mystery wizard have done the same to Emily and her classmates? Thinking back to a trip he had made to the Ministry of Magic back home James thought not. The Ministry had teams of Wizards that were required any time a large number of Muggles had to have their memories altered or erased. From what he remembered Obliviate was devilishly tricky to cast on a single person, never mind a whole class full of nearly adult witches and wizards. Transfiguration was a possibility, as James remembered seeing more than a few vain magical folk use glamours to keep themselves looking as young as possible. It was within the realm of possibilities, but the witch or wizard using it had to be very powerful to be able to make a perfect transformation into a doppelganger of James. Transformation. The thought rolled around James's mind for several minutes.

Transformation!

James's eyes popped open and he bolted upright in bed. The simplest explanations were generally the best, according to Occam's razor. James was surprised no one had mentioned this solution yet.

"Mr. McCrea, do require more pain relief?" Master Wrappe asked.

"Polyjuice!" James shouted.

The Mediwizard gave him an odd look. "You should know very well from your classes that particular potion will do nothing for pain relief."

James shook him off and looked directly at the Headmistress, who had doubled back to James's cot at his exclamation. "Professor Two-leaf, whoever attacked that girl could have used Polyjuice potion. I was out and there was nothing stopping the rogue from taking a bit of my hair at the same time they were grabbing my wand!"

"That's not possible, Mr. McCrea," the Headmistress scoffed. "That would mean they had been brewing that particular potion since before term started and they would not have been able to hide it on the train in mid creation."

"Stasis bottles."

James and the Headmistress turned to Master Wrappe, puzzlement on her face and triumph on his.

"Please care to explain?" Impatience had crept into Professor Two-leaf's tone.

"Stasis bottles are commonplace in medical wards around the Wizarding world, Headmistress, for long term storage of many different healing potions, balms, and unguents. We would need to have a person dedicated to brewing all the various potions used for medicine and healing if we didn't have these miraculous phials."

"Your point?" She sound a bit more intrigued if not any less impatient.

"It would be a simple thing to complete a batch of Polyjuice Potion and fill several stasis bottles with the batch. Depending on the quality of the bottles and the charm work, the Polyjuice could have been made over a year ago and still been as potent as the day it was first brewed." The Mediwizard looked almost smug, as if he had told the punchline to the perfect joke.

"I would be guessing, Master Wrappe, that if someone had stasis bottles full of Polyjuice, and those bottles were safely stored in their potion ingredients kit, then it would not be looked at as out of the ordinary?" James continued to wrap his head around the possibility that he was being targeted.

The Headmistress answered. "Your thinking is correct, Mr. McCrea. That would not have been considered contraband if it were properly stored for legitimate reasons. No further search would have been triggered as they would have been considered part of the kit."

Wrappe continued, "Under the circumstances, Headmistress, I would like to keep Mr. McCrea here overnight for observation. And to make sure cooler heads are prevailing when I do finally release him. I fear there will be more of the same reaction from friends of Miss Rogers until things settle down."

James closed his eyes to hide the fear. No matter what his wand was saying, he knew he wasn't the one to cast all those Cruciatus curses. He was a healer in training, not a sadist. Yet Master Wrappe was quite right in deducing a very large target was now on James's back. Was it connected to the happenings over the summer? Was it possible James was randomly picked out of the student body? That seemed even less likely than being unconnected to the Danish Embassy incident. But that didn't mean it was the same people behind this. James couldn't shake the look in Edvard's eyes. The look of a young man that was surprised and frightened. That was about the only thing certain to James right now: Edvard was not the wizard who cast the Stupify. But answers would not come. Facts circled around James's mind until he drifted off to a fitful sleep.

James's eyes fluttered open as sunlight began to flood through the window. A moment of confusion ran across his face until he saw one of the nurses checking a patient across the way. He was still in the Infirmary. His head no longer throbbed and movement no longer caused pain, so that was an improvement. But his situation was still clouded. He knew he was innocent but also knew there was no proof of his innocence, his own wand providing the most damning finger of guilt. It nagged at James's mind that Edvard appeared to have been subject to an Oblivion but the way he hesitated before answering did not feel like Edvard was searching of the mind for what might have happened but was buying time to come up with a plausible denial for who did hit James with the Stupify.

"There must have been a better to way to, how do the Americans say, play hooky?"

James's head swiveled toward the voice and a big grin broke out. Tora had come to the Infirmary. "Twas not my plan upon leaving breakfast yesterday."

"I thought you and Edvard were going to play nice?'

"It wasn't Edvard that put me in here. And there's no clues to who did."

"Is it true?" Tora didn't have to specify. James knew from her tone.

"I did not attack that girl." James said in as calm a voice as possible. "What is true is whoever did used my wand to do it. Probably pinched it after they hit me with a Stupify."

"What about expulsion?"

"I don't think I will be expelled, not yet anyway. I'm thinking there would need to be a trial or a hearing first."

"What you are accused of is very grave, James. Serious enough to worry about Aurors marching through that doorway any minute. Damning enough for you to rot in whatever the American equivalent of Azkaban is until they do get around to having a trial. And would never see you again."

"There, there love. This isn't Europe. They actually have fairly strong due process here. If I don't get a chance to solve the mystery myself I will still get my day in court."

"Ah, Mr. McCrea. You're awake." The chipper voice of Master Wrappe interrupted the couple's fearful discussion. "You came through the night's observation with flying colors. No more excuses for lollygagging here. Let me make one final entry into your medical records and you can go back to your common room."

"I'll be needing to go to classes today, Sir. I missed a whole day yesterday."

"It's Saturday, silly," Tora chided him. "That is why I asked if you were playing hooky."

"Master Wrappe? How is Emily doing?" Ever the prospective Mediwizard himself, James had to make sure the girl wasn't severely injured by the fiend running around Ilvermorny.

Master Wrappe's face turned grim. "I can't tell you Mr. McCrea."

"I understand. Doctor/patient privilege and all…"

"No, you misunderstand. I truly don't know how serious things are with Miss Rogers." The elderly medic looked down in resignation. "We have her sedated and under constant observation. Physically, she should recover in short order. But I've never heard of anyone getting hit with that many Cruciatus curses and it not taking some sort of mental toll."

James swallowed hard. The medical staff back in New York City were concerned and surprised at his recovery after he had been hit with three Cruciatus. Emily had taken six, maybe seven. Who knew how that would affect her mind?

James swallowed back a few choice words. Swearing would not change the situation. And the worst part is the target on his back was much larger than he originally envisioned. He could pray cooler heads will be prevailing now that everyone had a chance to sleep on it. But revenge is a very strong emotion and coming on the heels of the Benson incident everyone here at the school would be very high strung and James was not under any illusion that an attack on his person wouldn't happen. The longer Emily Rogers was here in the Infirmary, the more likely some gits from her house would try to get even.

"Will James be getting his wand back before you release him?" Tora was ever the pragmatist.

"I'm sorry Miss Svendotter, but the Headmistress has James's wand. She does not want it tampered with while an investigation is underway."

A string of epithets flew out of James's mouth. The target on him would be very big indeed and no wand to defend himself with. Christmas Break would not come soon enough.

"Thanks for the escort," James said with tired, hushed voice. Tora, Kenji, and Mario flanked him on the walk to the Puckwudgie common room. The halls weren't as crowded on the weekend, so there was less of a chance that the small group would run into someone wanting to do harm to James. Anger has made people do many illogical things in the name of revenge and retribution and his friends felt it was not worth the risk to let James walk alone.

News had traveled like fiend fyre through the school after yesterday's attacks. Most students they ran across looked worried as James passed, as if his friends were there to keep him in check and prevent him from casting a spell. A handful of others had looks of smoldering anger dancing in their eyes, but those were the ones who let cooler heads prevail. They might stare but they wouldn't attack. The few who would do harm without reason, those were the ones James's honor guard took vigil against.

"McCrea!"

The group spun around to face the angry shout behind them. A knot of seventh years was lumbering up the corridor, their intent clear. Tora tried to pull James faster to the common room, it was just around the next corner, while Mario and Kenji tried to shield James from the lynch mob. He appreciated the efforts, but the situation had to be nipped in the bud. If he didn't face them now he'd be forced to dodge the vigilantes the rest of the year, much the way Edvard had been forced to avoid James. He gave a reassuring nod to Tora and stepped between his friends.

"Not going to be happy until you get your pound of flesh, are ye." James said, calm radiating in all directions. "Are ye looking to kick me again, even though I'm not down on the ground?"

"Shove it, you bastard!" Matthews screamed. A night's sleep had not dulled the young man's anger. Was he dating Emily?

"We have to hurry up and do it, Bobby, before a professor comes." This one was a friend of Mathews, but not part of the group who had brought Miss Rogers to the Infirmary.

The cluster murmured agreement and stood back to let Matthews have room to work. The boy's nose scrunched in concentration, as if he needed to psych himself up to perform the spell. It was a matter of peer pressure now as Matthew's friends kept egging him on, as if they were on a playground in First Form at recess.

"Get it over with," James said, his voice tired and resigned.

"Watch it Bobby. It's got to be a trick. He'll hit you with a spell when you try to get him."

Matthews's eyes darted between both of James' hands, then narrowed when he saw neither held a wand. "What game are you playing, McCrea?"

James held his arms out, showing that his hands were indeed empty. He stared at Matthews, daring him to deduce the meaning of James's gesture. "Did ye need me ta spell it out?"

"Draw your wand McCrea. This is going to be a fair duel, just you and me."

"Don't you believe I already would have? Think boyo!"

"Holy crow, Matthews. The headmistress took his wand."

"Then why is he walking free instead of rotting in the deepest pits of hell?" Spittle flew from Matthews' mouth as he rounded on his companion.

"He'll be confined to the dormitories. You know the Founders of Ilvermorny didn't believe in dungeons" It was Tora who had spoken. She stood glaring at the seventh years.

That seemed to appease Matthews as the rest of his group pulled him away from James and his friends leaving James to worry how long he would be confined to quarters. Come to think of it, he didn't remember being told that, unless the decision had been made while he was asleep last night. Tora wrapped her arm through his and pulled him along to the Puckwudgie common room.

"This is all surreal," James muttered.

"It will blow over, mio amico," Mario said, his tone more confident than his expression.

"How, Mario? Someone cast a good half a dozen Cruciatus curses at Emily Rogers using my wand and wearing my face. How in bloody hell does this blow over? What if she never recovers from this? I was hit with at least three Cruciatus curses over the summer and needed weeks to recover!"

"Many students think the Polyjuice was a lie," Kenji stated plainly, his voice neutral. "There is no test to see if a person has used it. You must catch them turning back."

"Then let us convince the Headmistress to search everyone's potion kits," Mario said sharply, "and catch quel ladro! Il furfante! Briccone! Malandrino!"

"I have a feeling she won't do that," James said. "Too many kits to search and it's very likely the culprit moved their stash and hid it as soon as their luggage made it to their room."

"Don't worry my love. All will work out in the end." Tora hugged James's arm even tighter to reassure him.

The rest of the their walk to the common room was uneventful and James was glad to collapse in a high backed chair tucked away in a corner far from the door and the usual foot traffic to the dormitory rooms. He wasn't going to hide in his bed but he didn't want to be on display either. The gawking from the other houses was bad enough and Matthews and his mates were undoubtedly not the only students out for a pound of James's proverbial flesh. It was frustrating that Edvard's memory was wiped; James was sure the other boy had seen who had cast the Stupify. But that wouldn't solve the biggest mystery: Why?

He was definitely a target but was he the ultimate target? It seemed too much a coincidence to James that this incident happened so soon after the incident with Benson. But there was nothing obvious to connect the two black marks beyond the alleged perpetrators being British citizens. James knew he hadn't been the wizard to cast the Crucios and he was willing to bet a couple of galleons that Benson wasn't acting out of free will. But the Auror committed suicide, according to witnesses, and who's to say that James wasn't supposed to be killed as part of some plot smearing the British Magical government. Dead men tell no tales.

"He has that look," Kenji said.

James's expression went sour as he realized he had been very deep in thought, deep enough for other students to notice. He did tend to take concentration to a new art form. But this wasn't about trying to figure out the answer to a homework problem or exam question. It was about finding who did this to poor Emily and why they were scapegoating James and what this had to do in general with the British presence in the United States. A presence that was being made to look as if they were targeting MACUSA staff or their relatives. Too many elusive clues swirled around in James head and none answered a question he knew about.

So what didn't he know that he didn't know?

What indeed.