FALLING WITH GRACE
by shiiki

CHAPTER THREE

Braving the War

September 1977 to March 1978

The months following the inception of the Order of the Phoenix could only be described as dangerously heroic. James and Sirius immediately gave up their plans to become Aurors and leapt into working for the Order. Thankfully, neither was so hard up for money as to need a job, so they were both free to pour time and resources into fighting Voldemort – James had the Potter fortune, and Sirius had a surprise windfall when his Uncle Alphard named him the heir to a huge vault of gold and the older Black estate in Lincolnshire – a decision that his entire family had contested bitterly, but to no avail.

Two weeks after their first meeting, the Order foiled a mass Muggle-killing in Kent, their very first victory against the Death Eaters. One blissful week later, they saved a young family – both parents were Muggle-born. Sturgis Podmore, who worked in the Department of International Magic Cooperation, found them safe passage to the continent.

In October, they prevailed over an army of Dementors sent to ravage a Muggle town in Cardiff. James returned home after the battle, exhausted from casting Patronuses practically non-stop for a week, but elated at having effectively driven away and dispersed the Dementors.

November passed in a whirlwind of successful skirmishes and brilliant battles. Their optimism and energy seemed to be boundless, as they intercepted Death Eater meetings, sabotaged plans, and ruined attacks. The morale of the Order was high; they joked and laughed at meetings, and everybody had a hand in match-making Alice Moody and Frank Longbottom, who were obviously smitten with each other, but taking forever to acknowledge it. James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter spent that month's full moon together, happily running rampage over Sirius's inherited estate in their animal forms.

Come December, rumours of the top-secret organisation working to oppose Voldemort had spread like dragon pox, and people began to have a small glimmer of hope. This meant, however, that the Order had put themselves firmly on Voldemort's hit list. That Christmas, a jolly celebration at James's home, marked the end of the triumphant victories of the Order. The honeymoon months were over, and Voldemort struck back brutally.

The cadet branch of the Moody family, including Alice's parents, was entirely wiped out, leaving Alice and Alastor the sole survivors. Frank's father and younger sister were ambushed – Flora Longbottom was killed, although Frank Senior escaped narrowly, bitter and blaming himself for not having been able to shield his beloved daughter.

After the attack on the Longbottoms, Lily panicked for her sister. James went with her to seek out Petunia and beg her to let the Order hide them, or at least offer them magical protection. Petunia's beefy husband slammed the door shut in their faces.

Sirius growled that he wouldn't mind if Voldemort eliminated his family, but there was no such luck, seeing that the name 'Black' was almost synonymous with 'Death Eater'. Then he remembered his disinherited cousin Andromeda had a Muggle-born husband and paid them a visit, ostensibly to see his baby cousin Dora, but more likely to take measures to ensure their safety.

Remus was the first of the Marauders to suffer a blow, following his public denunciation of Voldemort to a group of fellow werewolves. Voldemort must have got wind of it, because the next thing they knew, the Lupin's house had been blown up, along with Remus's parents inside.

'I'll find something,' said Remus, when James asked what he was going to do now. He looked very tired, and he had just been fired from the Butterbeer factory at which he had worked for the past few months.

'What,' said Sirius, outraged, 'because you spoke out against Voldemort?'

'I'm still a werewolf,' said Remus wearily. 'People's mindsets aren't changed that easily.'

'What's the point of us fighting against the Dark side if all these prejudices aren't going to change?' demanded Sirius hotly.

'That doesn't mean we should stop fighting,' said James firmly, and that put an end to the discussion. Remus accepted James's invitation to stop a while at Potter Manor; however, he refused to stay more than a week.

James's own tragedy arrived in February, one completely unrelated to Voldemort, which took them all by surprise, because they had come to associate death and loss with the war alone.

Elderly Mr and Mrs Potter both succumbed to Kneazle fever that winter – a malady that could be fatal at their age, and most unfortunately proved so. James buried both his parents on a surprisingly bright March afternoon.

The sun shone most insensitively on the day of the funeral. James usually had no feud with sunshine, but today, he wished the clouds would gather. Pouring rain wouldn't be a bad idea either. He felt numb, as wizards and witches offered him their condolences, as the people who had known his parents made speeches, praising their virtues, even as he himself spoke. After it was over, he could not remember what he had said. The only things that penetrated the foggy haze of his brain were his friends – Sirius, Remus and Peter, flanking his left, offering silent support, and Lily, her piercing green eyes telling him that she was there for him.

'We therefore commit their bodies to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust; in the sure and certain hope of the Resurrection to eternal life.'

He joined in the scattering of earth over his parents' coffins, his mind hurtling back to ten years ago, when he had done the same for his sister. He was the last of his family left. The realisation made him feel horribly alone.

Someone moved in James's peripheral vision. Beside him, Sirius snapped into action as his mother's coffin exploded, showering splintered wood all around. James turned to see a bolt of red light headed right at him – he felt as though he was moving underwater as he tried to duck –

The spell hit an invisible wall and bounced off. James turned again. Lily's wand was out, conjuring the Shield Charm that had protected him.

Everything was happening too fast. In the same moment that he saw Lily warding off the Death Eater who had tried to curse him, James noticed another making a slashing motion at her unguarded back. What looked like purple flames seared across the space between them.

James's reflexes from Quidditch training kicked back in at once, and he dived at her. The curse missed, striking a headstone several metres away. It burst into flame in the face of another Death Eater.

'Get out of here!' someone screamed. 'Go, go, go!'

People were Disapparating who could; some had panicked and were hysterical, in no condition to. A little boy was cowering and wailing for his mother behind a grave. The Death Eaters had some poor elderly lady – James recognised a friend of his mother's – writhing and flailing on the ground.

'Make sure everybody gets out of here safely!' barked Sirius.

Lily was already up and running, casting her powerful Shield Charm and deflecting curses as she dashed around the rubble that had been a stones in a graveyard just moments before, helping as many people as she could. James managed to Stun two Death Eaters at a go, snatch the crying boy out of the way of an errant curse, dodge a third Death Eater's hex narrowly … the world was spinning at an alarming rate as he plunged into the fight.

The sunlight continued to sparkle incongruously as the fight continued, illuminating the blood shed in patches over the demolished graveyard.

---

Lily sat on the bottom step of the stairs in Potter Manor, rubbing her forehead distractedly.

Her thoughts wouldn't settle. They were racing through the events of the day, of the previous week, even the past month.

James was now, like her, an orphan without family. Although she still had Petunia – her sister might pretend she didn't exist now, but at least Petunia was still alive, which meant that there was always hope of reconciliation in the future.

It was such a cruel trick of fate, to carry James's parents away thus. When they'd worried all this while about Voldemort's attacks, something as small and seemingly insignificant in the wake of the war as a disease could strike the final blow.

It stung too, that even the funeral hadn't been able to be conducted in peace. No, they had to be brutally reminded that the war was still a bitter reality when they'd ceased to care about it for a while.

'Foolhardiness,' an Auror had called it. 'You've lots to learn,' he'd told James coldly, 'if you can't understand the dangers of holding anything out in the open – it's an open invitation to be attacked!'

To which James had replied, 'I refused to be so cowed that I can't give my parents their due.'

'It's not safe,' insisted the Auror. 'We've got quite enough to do without rescuing those who court trouble.'

As if they'd done much good when they'd finally arrived: throwing only a few curses around and yelling at them to leave. There hadn't been much to save, by then; Lily and the others had already done all they could.

Lily didn't know how long she'd been sitting by the time James came down. He took a seat beside her, his fingers fidgeting. Lily caught one of his hands and clasped it tight.

'I'm sorry,' she said softly.

James nodded. He wasn't looking at her, but at the ground, his Adam's apple constricting as he swallowed. There was a deep gash running along his cheek, and his forehead was bruised – the aftermath from their battle earlier on. Lily held her finger to the scar and touched it lightly. James winced, and she quickly pulled her hand away.

'Does it still hurt?'

'Like the devil,' said James gruffly. He finally raised his head and ran his eyes over her. 'You don't look so fresh yourself.'

Lily gingerly pressed her finger against her own cut, a jagged line on her chin that had needed to be mended by Dorcas Meadowes, who was training as a Healer. 'It's not so bad.'

James looked away again. There was silence for a while, and then he spoke, bitterly, 'What an irony. We worried so much about Voldemort, but in the end something like a disease gets to us instead.'

'I know. My mum – my dad, it was so sudden … and it wasn't even an attack. Just something stupid.'

James looked at her curiously. 'It wasn't?'

Lily shook her head. 'Didn't you know? There was a car crash – I survived, but Mum … well, she didn't have magic, did she? It happened all too fast for me to do anything. And Dad had a heart attack. Then his heart gave out.'

'You never told me. We always assumed it had been something to do with Voldemort … and your sister seemed so angry with magic …'

'No. Petunia was so angry that magic had saved me and not Mum. She never liked it much in the first place … I think that was the last straw for her.'

'Oh. I didn't know that.'

'It doesn't matter. It's over now.'

James free arm found its way around her shoulders, drawing her to him. Lily sensed however that it was more for his own comfort than hers. She wrapped her arms around him, hoping to give him the warmth of her love.

'And now this attack – couldn't they have left the funeral alone, damn it? He takes enough from people, yet he can't let us be at peace with our dead! Why?'

Lily felt wet drops moisten her hair. She hugged James tighter.

'I wanted to – I wanted to say goodbye, properly … stupid, I know, I was with them when they … well, we had time before, and yet …'

'I know,' Lily whispered. 'I know what you mean.'

Was it better to have had time to say goodbye? Lily had never had that liberty. One moment her parents had been alive, the next they were gone before she could open her eyes.

'It's just like Harriet all over again,' said James brokenly. 'It – she – I …' He ran his hand roughly over his eyes, before launching into his tale.

Harriet Potter had been Andrew and Patricia Potter's first child, fifteen years James's senior. She had gone to Hogwarts and been Sorted into Gryffindor like the rest of her family. However, she had got involved with Eberus Prince – a Slytherin, but left him after an argument over the use of the Dark Arts. After leaving Hogwarts, she had met and fallen in love with a Muggle, and they were married soon after. Furious when he learnt the news, her ex-boyfriend came after her. Harriet had returned home to find her husband dead, and Eberus Prince lying in wait for her. He bound her to him using Dark Magic, and disappeared with her. They had found her a week later, weak and broken, and brought her home.

'I could hear her screaming sometimes; I'd wake up in the middle of the night and hear it … Mum and Dad wouldn't let me near her room, but I snuck in to see her one night. She was – it was just horrible.'

Harriet had never recovered; she had died within a week, slowly and torturously.

'I'm sorry,' said Lily. She couldn't help but wonder if this horrible tragedy that had befallen the Potter family had ignited James's passion against everything that stood for the Dark Arts … She thought of James's sister Harriet, wasting away before his eyes, a victim to the Dark Arts. And now, his parents falling victims to a magical disease. Her heart ached. Wasn't there enough tragedy in the world without Voldemort adding to it?

James was crying freely now, his face buried against her hair. Lily fought to blink back her own. She had to be strong for him now, to be the one to give him strength and courage.

'It's hard,' she told him. 'It's so hard to say good-bye.'

She held on to him for a long time, until he finally regained his composure. In that time, she couldn't help shedding her own tears too, grieving for James.

'The worst thing about the war,' said James, his voice sounding hollow, 'is that there won't be time to grieve. Tomorrow, we've got to go on, like the loss doesn't exist. I don't see how I can … but I know I've got to. You can't take leave from a war to mourn.'

'There's tonight,' Lily reminded him. 'There's still time, to pull yourself together again.'

James nodded mutely. He detached himself from her and held her shoulders at arm's length, studying her again. Reaching out, he brushed back a lock of her hair.

'Thank you,' he said. 'For being with me …'

'How could I not?'

He leaned forward and kissed her gently. 'Stay here tonight,' he pleaded softly. 'Stay with me.'

There wasn't any need for him to ask. In a world that people could leave at any time, where there were so few guarantees, James had been her rock for so long already. It was time her turn to be his.

She stayed.