He narrowed his eyes in frustration; not that he was misunderstanding on why his father was doing this. He just did not feel that it was fair that he had to leave. After all, his father had responsibilities here, at home. Deep down he knew that his father had to go. Not because he wanted to, but because who he was. Sighing, and realizing that talking him out of leaving was pretty much out of the question, he contended himself that if he was going, then the Order was getting the best man for the job.
As he leaned up against his father's bedroom door, he asked, "I still don't understand why he asked you to go. I mean there isn't any shred of evidence that he's back. And they say that the old man is senile."
"Don't call him senile, Jimmy." He stood up and looked at his only son. "Show some respect man. Albus has done a lot for our family and for wizards everywhere. He is perhaps the single most powerful practitioner of magic since Merlin himself, and if he say's that You-Know-Who's back, then I believe him." He turned away from James and walked to his bedside table.
James watched as his father hesitated before he picked up his wand. He knew his father was thinking of his mother. James could not remember his mother. All he knew was that she died right after Lord Voldemort's downfall to the Potter kid, whoever he was. She died at the hands of Death Eaters. They thought she knew where the Ministry was keeping Voldemort prisoner. However, the whole thing involving Potter was still confusing to James, and even his father said that it did not make any sense. James shrugged it off and thought, however it happened, peace has reigned in the Wizarding community, at least in England it has, and that is all that really mattered.
However, James and his father lived in America, and that is an entirely different story in itself. Not that it was bad, but it was far from the tranquility enjoyed by the British. At least until all of the talk of Lord Voldemort's return have surfaced. Though his father is a prominent businessman in the Muggle world; that was all a façade. It was to cover for the fact that his father was the Cleric for the American Ministry of Magic. He headed the Auror office. America had it's own share of dark wizards and witches; leftovers from Voldemort's reign just over a decade earlier. His father fought in that war so many years ago alongside the wizard known as Albus Dumbledore, being a member of the legendary Order of the Phoenix. James's father almost spoke Albus's name with reverence and he knew it was important to his father that he go once more to Albus's aide. It was not surprising that Albus was recalling all of the units that once belonged to the Order. If the old man was right about Voldemort being back, and James's father believed he was, then calling those who fought Voldemort the first time would be detrimental in defeating him this time, considering they have been in this type of war before and know how to fight it.
James read and studied that war thoroughly because of his father's involvement. He probably knew just as much about what happened as those who actually fought in it. He could name names, dates, and places. But Albus Dumbledore was an enigma to James. From everything he read, he still could not understand him. Here was, from all reports, a brilliant man and, like his father said, a very powerful magic user. But there was something else. Something he glimpsed from all of the photos. His dad told him that he was reading between the lines too much. Albus Dumbledore is a powerful wizard, nothing more, nothing less, his father was always telling him. But James wasn't so sure about that and he kept getting the feeling that his father knew more about it than what he was leading on.
His father's voice cut through his reverie. "So, what are your plans while I'm gone?"
"Don't know. I'll probably just work and see if I can solve the Knight murder." James was in his father's department. Becoming an Auror and working for his father was all that he wanted.
"Or you could come with me," his father said quietly.
"What? What do you mean?"
His father looked at him straight into the eye and said, "You could come with me. We can do this together."
"But dad, the Minister won't let me go. Besides, Albus probably wouldn't even want me
around."
"You let me worry about the Minister. And trust me, Albus needs talent. He also needs sneaky bastards to scout out information about the bad guys. I told him that your parentage wasn't in doubt, but you could do the job nonetheless. And frankly, I can't think anyone who can perform the job better than you," his father said with a smirk. James hesitated. The thought of going with his father to fight Voldemort alongside the renowned Albus Dumbledore was too good of an opportunity to pass up, even if he was wrong about the Dark Lord being back. He could definitely learn a thing or two in the presence of the most powerful wizard alive.
"You do know that the common consensus over there is that Voldemort isn't really back and that Dumbledore has been released from his duty on the Wizengamot and…"
His father interrupted him with an upraised hand. "I probably know about it more than you do, and you already know how I feel on the matter. So, do you want to go or not?"
James hesitated merely a second, "Yes."
"So, you honestly believe You-Know-Who is back? You believe Dumbledore?" asked William Savage.
"You know I do Minister. And you know why I have to do this," answered James's father. He lowered his voice as he said, "You were there a decade and half ago William. You know what Voldemort is capable of."
"Yes I do, just like you." The Minister sighed and got a far away look in his eyes. One of James's strengths was his observation skills. He missed very little and he knew that the Minister was thinking back to the first war with Voldemort. Like his father, William Savage also fought against the dark wizard as a member of the Order of the Phoenix. And also like his father, Savage was one of Dumbledore's top lieutenants. Savage was made Minister roughly four years prior and immediately named James's father as Cleric, the prestigious title given to those who head the Aurors. When questioned why he named James's father as Cleric instead of those who have worked as an Auror for years, the Minister merely claimed that there is no one better to track down and fight dark wizards. And for the last four years as Cleric, James's father lived up to the Minister's words. Everyone in the country, good or bad, knew that the Minister of Magic and the Cleric were the closest of friends and woe to those who chose to stand on the other side of the battle. It was often said that if one did not have the answer, the other did.
"And I suppose you're going with him?" the Minister asked as he turned his eyes on James.
"Yes Minister. If that would be okay of course."
Savage turned to James's father. "Thought so." Savage sighed. He stood from behind his desk and walked to a nearby window in which he busied himself gazing at the grounds below. After a few seconds of uninterrupted silence, he turned to James and his father. "I thought after Voldemort disappeared, our kind would have become a bit more wiser to his subtle ability to turn even the most intelligent wizard into a bumbling idiot. Fudge is a fool. He actually has his senior undersecretary teaching at Hogwarts."
"You mean Delores Umbridge?" asked James's father.
"One and the same. Fudge is spouting lies about Albus and trying to place Hogwarts under his control by sending one of his lackeys to the school. Albus has his hands tied behind his back actually. Well, only momentarily. Actually, I'm amused that Fudge believes that he could even dream about controlling Dumbledore. If that isn't funny, then I don't know what is." Savage paused. "I'm sure you have heard of the mass breakout of Azkaban. Ten of Voldemort's most dangerous followers have escaped and joined him."
"So you absolutely believe that he's back then?" interrupted James. Normally he would not have dared barging in this conversation between his father and the Minister. But he couldn't believe that two of the most powerful members of the ministry believed this mumbo jumbo that the Dark Lord has returned.
"Yes I do. As you know, your father and I fought against him so long ago. He is far too dangerous to just ignore. Even if he isn't really back, we can not afford blow off this information." Savage suddenly became animated. "Nicholas and James, I will approve your leaves."
James's father interrupted, "What about you William. You know that I want you to come with us. Besides Jimmy, there is no one I trust more to be at my side."
"I know, and as much as I want to, I have to stay here. Since your leaving, I have to personally take command of the Aurors. I'm sure the dark wizards over hear will start stirring now that Voldemort has returned. They now have someone to actually follow instead of working individually. That is going to be dangerous. I am going to make sure that they see the folly of their ways." Savage turned to James and said, "Jimmy, I'm promoting you to Senior Auror, first assistant to the Cleric. I can't have my Cleric go unless he is supported by one of his best."
James eyes widened. Well, he thought, now there is absolutely no reason to go, even if he was still skeptical that Voldemort was really back.
"Good luck gentlemen." And with a nod, William Savage, his father's best friend and fellow Order of the Phoenix member walked out of the office.
"Well, that's it then. Let's go," said James's father.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? What on earth are we doing here?" asked James.
"We're meeting Albus of course." Answered his father with a slight confused expression as if this information should already be plain to his son.
"Well, I just thought that we would meet in secret is all. I mean, aren't we supposed to be on the down-low or something?"
"No. This is perfect. Everyone knows, and when I say everyone, I'm talking about the Ministry, that Albus receives visitors all the time here. We won't stand out by calling on him."
James sighed and took a skeptical tone, "If you say so."
"I say so." Said his father.
James and his father walked up to the gates of the school grounds. The first thought running through his mind was, wow. This cannot be a school, it was the size of the parliament building in London. The grounds were well kept and full of grass with no dirt patches anywhere. Down a path that veered away from the main grounds was a small cabin made of stones, and still farther down was a huge tree that seemed to moving on its own. He had to crane his neck to see the pinnacle of the tall spires that jetted out into the sky. A flash of bright light brought him out of personal thoughts.
"Was that a Patronus? Why did you cast that spell?" asked James.
"It was a way to let other Order members know that we are in the area and we need each other, or to let others know that everything is clear. I'm letting certain members know that we are here."
"Ahhh…." Was the only response from James as he settled his eyes on a descending figure. It was only a few seconds when James realized that this man was entirely too large from that distance. As he got closer James knew why. "A giant!"
"Quiet. Show some respect. It's Rubeus Hagrid. He's the groundskeeper here, and he also fought in the war."
James looked at his father with wide and shocking eyes. No way. There is no way a giant fought in the war with his father. Then again, James thought, it would be keeping entirely with Dumbledore's personality to have a giant on his side. As this Hagrid came closer James noticed his eyes; large and brown with an easy smile. Well, he seemed friendly enough, and the way he looked at his father, it was obvious they were old friends.
"Nicky! How are ye' ye old sod?" bellowed Hagrid.
"Hagrid, how are you? How's everything?"
"Not bad. Come, Dumbledore waits."
Hagrid led them into the ancient fortified school, no, castle, James thought, where he let his eyes and mind wander. He noticed the tapestries that signified the four noble houses in which all students were sorted into. James had read up on each and every one of the houses and based upon his research, James would have chosen either Ravenclaw or Slytherin. James kept these thoughts to himself, however, as every one believed that dark wizards just seem to pour out of Slytherin house. Slytherin students were not evil on principle, they just seemed to be because of their willingness to forgo anything and everything to gain which they believed the most important thing. Power. Power was not such a bad thing, James thought, just misunderstood. He believed his father lived in the old times. His father is always telling him, "Power isn't everything. In fact, those who pursue it, end up abusing it, no matter what the intention is." He was always quoting his favorite Italian Historical Professor, Lord Acton, "…power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely." James always rolled his eyes at this. "Dumbledore has all this power and he isn't corrupted," he was always saying to his father. His father would always respond, "Dumbledore is different." Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Then he thought on Ravenclaw house. The house his mother belonged too before she met his father three years after her final year at Hogwarts. According to a singing hat, at least his father was always saying so, Ravenclaw students were apparently the smartest and cleverest of wizards and witches. When it came to knowledge, no student was superior to a Ravenclaw. His father said that James got his intelligence from his mother. The fact that he never knew his mother led James to take his father's word for it. In fact, he always took comfort at these words because it was the only link that he had to his mother and James sometimes suspected that his father would say this just so that he did have something to hold onto concerning his mother.
Gryffindor, his father's house, had all of those who were "brave" and "courageous." This always made James smile. What exactly made one brave at such a young age where a hat would realize you belonged to the house. It did not make any sense, but there was a lot that did not make sense in this school. Then there was Hufflepuff. James did not know much about this house except that its students were the hardest working and most loyal, either to friends, family, or to the school. It was said that if there was anyone to be trusted, it was a Hufflepuff.
A chiming bell in the distance led to a deluge of students pouring into the ancient halls. James looked around and noticed students talking about the day's homework, shouting at each other in anger, or muttering about this or that teacher. James laughed to himself. He remembered when he acted the same way when he was in school.
As they walked down the length of the corridor, James looked back. He noticed that all of the students were congregating outside a large set of double doors, waiting to walk inside. James deduced that it was lunch time due to the fact that it was high noon and his stomach let out a loud growl.
"Don't worry Jimmy. After we meet with Dumbledore, you can eat." James's father said.
Hagrid had led them down, what seemed to James, the hundred and tenth hallway (he lost track after 67) when he noticed that the hall they were walking down ended with an archway that consisted of an stone gargoyle with it's wings curled towards the front.
Hagrid muttered a word that James did not catch and instantly the statue of the gargoyle began to rotate and move, revealing a stone staircase leading upwards. Great…more stairs, thought James.
James followed his father up the steps. He stood and waited while Hagrid knocked on the large door in front of them three times.
"Enter," said a voice inside.
Hagrid opened the door and led James and his father inside a large circular room. Halfway across the office was three steps that led to a well-built old desk. Behind the desk sat the oldest-looking man James had ever laid his eyes on. He was reading a parchment that he was holding in his hands. This is Dumbledore? James thought. This is the wizard that is going to lead us to victory over Voldemort? He barely looks like he can stand.
After a few silent minutes, James cleared his throat, which was immediately followed by a sharp jab to the ribs by his father's elbow. When James looked at his father quizzically as if to ask him why he did that, his father looked at him with stern eyes that clearly said, if you do that again, I will curse you. James was careful not to do it again. One thing about his father, when he gave an order, verbally or nonverbally, he expected to be obeyed. There were a number of times that James tested his father on this, and each time, James came out the worse for wear.
After a few more moments, Dumbledore looked up at James's father. "Nicholas! It is great to see you. I assume your trip was okay?" When his father nodded, Dumbledore smiled and said, "Good, because I'm throwing you into the thick of things right now. I need you to tail Lucius Malfoy. He has retained his spot as Voldemort's right hand man and considering your last encounter with Malfoy, I thought you might accept this assignment with a certain amount of glee." James looked at his father and observed him while Dumbledore spoke and noticed his father's eyes narrowed in intense anger. "You are to follow his movements and report them directly to me. I want to know where he goes, what his personal plans are, who he talks to and what messages he has received from fellow Death Eaters as well as Voldemort. But under no condition are you to engage him. Do you understand?"
"Yes Headmaster."
"Go. Now."
Without a further word or a look, James's father walked out of the office. James watched his father go with wide eyes, turned to look at Hagrid, who shrugged, then turned back to Dumbledore. It was then, at that moment that James realized why his father respected this man so much. Gone were the thoughts that this man is too old or lost to senility. When James looked into Dumbledore's eyes, he felt as if this man knew everything about him. He felt Dumbledore's eyes bore into him and knew that the wizard before him knew his most intimate secrets. James saw, no rather felt, that this man exuded power, the magic seemed to be radiating, oozing from his very pores. The few moments in which both sets of eyes connected, James felt something that he only felt from his father on occasions. This man intimidated him. After a few more minutes, Dumbledore smiled and it seemed that years fell away from his face. But that did not negate the fact that this man unnerved him.
"I've heard much about you James. From what I hear, you are very much your father's son. I know your talents and unusual powers and plan to use them. I just haven't figured out when or where just yet. So, until I do, I want you to get to know the student body, get the lay of the land. I want you to find out as much as you can about certain students and their families."
"You mean you want me to find out about the sons and daughters of Death Eaters?"
"Exactly. Hmm…your father said you were sharp and observant. So that is what I want you to do right now. Voldemort and his cohorts believe that I will not stoop to using family members to find out his operations. I intend to use that to my advantage. They will not be expecting that from me. Now, I perceive that you are hungry. Hagrid will take you to the Great Hall for lunch where you can begin your assignment. Do not fail me in this." And with that, Dumbledore looked down again at the parchments lying upon his desk. James looked around at Hagrid who motioned him out of the room.
When James and Hagrid entered the great hall James heard a loud rustling noise coming from overhead.
A questioning look prompted Hagrid to answer, "It's the owls bringin' mail. Now I gotta go to the teacher's table. I'll talk to ye later. Don't forget what Dumbledore said." And with that Hagrid was off.
James stayed rooted to the spot. Well, now what? He thought. How exactly was he supposed to do the job when the only person he knew in the entire country was off performing his assignment already. I am hungry, so let's start with some food. Maybe I'll strike up a conversation with some people. He walked down the length of one of the four tables. As he neared the front of one he overheard a bit of a conversation being held between a short, squat, somewhat rotund of a teacher and three students who were holding a large pile of letters. Hmmm….
"…did you do this?"
"Last Hogsmeade weekend."
"There will be no more Hogsmeade trips for you, Mr. Potter." James froze dead in his tracks and turned his head to the left so quickly he felt a crick in his neck. No way! "How you dare…how you could…I have tried again and again to teach you not to tell lies. The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detentions." Then the porky little teacher swept passed him towards the front table with what looked like a magazine clutched tightly to her chest.
James looked back at the student who the teacher was talking too. So this is the famous Harry Potter. What better way to get to know the students than talking to the most famous one? With a second of hesitation, James's stomach growled again, he walked over to the three students who were smiling, after being told off, while still reading the letters before them.
"Excuse me, but are you Harry Potter?" Great, that was a good conversation starter.
"Yeah. Who are you?" Harry asked.
"My name is James. You can call me Jimmy if you would like. My father and I are visiting Dumbledore. Apparently, my dad and he are old friends." James thought it would be best to keep the real reason why they were around a secret.
"Well, it's nice to meet you. Welcome to Hogwarts. Would you like something to eat?" At this moment, James's stomach growled again.
"Ahh…I should, but I have to meet my father. I was just taking a look around the school to get my bearings."
"Oh, so you are going to take classes then?"
With a smile James answered, "No. I finished school three years. But if Dumbledore doesn't mind, I might sit in on a lesson or two. And even more, I might be able to help you guys learn a thing or two." James added with a smirk.
The red haired kid next to him cleared his throat in the same fashion James did in Dumbledore's study. "Oh," Harry said, "this is my friend Ron Weasley." James extended his hand to shake hands with Ron. "And this is Hermione Granger. They're both in the same house I'm in, Gryffindor."
As James grasped Hermione's hand to shake, James again froze at the face before him. Short and petite with bushy brown hair, this girl began showing the fine features that would soon turn her into a beautiful young woman. Looking into her brown penetrating eyes, he knew that the mind behind those eyes never ceased working. Just like himself, he thought. But that's not what was bothering him. This Hermione girl reminded him of someone he knew from looking at pictures back home; someone he hasn't seen in ten years. But it couldn't be, could it?
"So…your just visiting, how long are you staying?" Ron asked, bringing James out of his thoughts.
James looked at Ron but still held Hermione's hand, "Uh, not sure. My dad has some business concerns."
Hermione then asked, "Does that mean your stay is going to be short?" James turned his eyes back toward her. "I mean, I'm not saying I don't want you here, I was just wondering…"
"I know what you mean. I really don't know how long I'll stay. For the short time I've been here, I don't know, I kinda like it." James looked into her eyes again, "You never know what would make you want to stay."
"This is true," Hermione said as she blushed realizing her hand was still being held by James. However, she made no attempt to pull away. Harry and Ron kept looking back and forth between the two.
"Anyways, I need to grab a bite to eat and take off. It was very nice meeting you," James said to all three in general, but kept his eyes on Hermione. And with that, James gently released her hand and walked off.
As James walked away, his mind was racing. It can't be her, it just can't be. And if it is, why hadn't his father told him she was here. I have to find my dad. James thought as he grabbed his food and hurried out of the great hall to find a private place to eat and gather his thoughts. However, as he walked out, he didn't notice the angry stare directed at his back from a redheaded Ron Weasley.
James was sitting in an unused classroom at the moment. He was pondering what exactly happened and how this situation came to be while he unconsciously put a piece of bread up to lips and took a bite. As he swallowed, he thought it has to be her. I thought she was dead. That's what my dad always said. But why would he lie.
What was he supposed to do now? Just march up to her and tell her? No. He couldn't do that. What was wrong with him? Here he is, a highly trained Auror, sitting in an old musty classroom eating bread by himself. Apparently Auror Training didn't involve "How to Tell Someone that Your Family And I Haven't Seen You in Ten Years Do You Remember Me," in any of the course syllabus'. What he needs is his dad. As he took the last remaining bite of his lunch, his eyes widened. Or I need someone that knows my father really well.
Damn! What was it that that giant said? Ummm…"Open says me. No? Okay, how about, 'you will open'" as he waved his hand in front of the door. Dang. You would think that I could do magic, that a stupid little Jedi mind trick would work. James sighed. He raised his right hand to knock, however, before his knuckles made contact with the ageing wood door, it opened slowly on its own. James eyes widened. Whoa. I need to get me one of these.
A voice emanating from the office said, "You can come in now." James, who noticed that his hand was still in the air, cleared his throat and entered slowly.
"Sorry to bother you Headmaster. But I was wonderi-"
"Did you accomplish what I have asked of you?" Dumbledore cutted in.
"Umm…no. Actually I was going to ask if you know anything about a student of yours." James paused.
Dumbledore stared at James for a few minutes over his small spectacles. "Jimmy, I'm a brilliant man, but I'm not a mind reader. What student are you speaking of? Be as specific as you can please as I have many students to look after."
James had the decency to blush. "Oh, um…I was wondering if you know anything about a girl named Hermione. I think she is a good friend of Harry Potter's."
Dumbledore sighed and leaned back in his chair forming a triangle with his hands, but his eyes never left James. "I do not believe I do Jimmy. Is she a good friend of Harry's?"
"I'm not sure. I met Harry Potter today along with Ron, I think his name was, and Hermione. Do you know anything about her?"
Dumbledore sighed inwardly and let out a breath slowly. James observant eye caught everything. He noticed that Dumbledore struggled to frame an answer. "Why do you ask?" Wow. James finally found out where his father got his answering of questions with questions.
Now it was James' turn to struggle to find an answer. "Well, I'm not sure really. She kind of looks like someone I knew a long time ago. I was wondering if it was actually her."
Dumbledore once again looked at James, "Well, I'm so sorry to have to disappoint you Jimmy. But I do not believe that I have made the personal acquaintance of Miss Granger. Is she a daughter of a Death Eater that you've decided to keep an eye on?"
James stood there a moment and narrowed his eyes. Something about that answer didn't sit right with him and he tried to decipher what the Headmaster just said to him. "Err…no, she's in Gryffindor House. At least that's what Harry said."
"Then Jimmy, if you would please, just stick to the orders that I have given you. This is a very important assignment. Do not get sidetracked again." Dumbledore leaned back forward into his chair and looked down at the papers before him. James sighed and knew that this must be the universal signal that everyone knew when Dumbledore was done talking to you. He walked slowly to the door, but before closing it behind him, he took one last look at the ageing Hogwarts Headmaster. Sighing once more, he closed the door and walked down the spiraling staircase.
Now what? I still need to find out what's going on. And then it hit him. William Savage! He knows my father better than anyone. He'll know something. Surprised that he didn't think of his father's best friend before astounded him. As he rounded the corner to the room that Dumbledore set aside for him he saw three Slytherins huddling next to set of armor. He overheard a snippet of their conversation and his interest was peaked. He wanted to stop and investigate but he needed to solve the "Hermione" problem first.
Upon entering his room, he marched quickly across to the fireplace. He picked up a pinch of the Floo powder and tossed it lazily into the fire and waited until it turned green. When it did so he called out loudly, "Minister!"
A bright flash and William Savage's head popped into the fire. "What is it Jimmy? I was about to go home for the night."
"Sorry Minister, but I just have a few questions."
"Well Jimmy, I'll do my best to answer them, but I'm not really going to be able to do anything about it because I'm not there. Your sure that this isn't something your dad or Dumbledore would be better equipped to handle?"
"Well, I would ask my dad if it weren't for the tiny fact that he left me stranded here at Hogwarts to go gallivanting around after some guy name Malfoy." At the mention of this name, James noticed Savage's eyes narrow with anger the same way his father's did in Dumbledore's office upon arriving. But he continued like nothing was amiss, "And Dumbledore sort of blew me off and told me to stick to the assignment he gave me."
"Well, if Dumbledore didn't seem bothered by it then neither should you Jimmy," Savage responded.
"Okay, Okay. But let me just ask you this. Do you know anyone by the name of Hermione Granger?" As James asked this he realized something. He started replaying the conversation he had with Dumbledore in his mind.
"No I don't Jimmy. Sorry," Savage said just a little to quickly, cutting through James's concentration. "Like I said, if Dumbledore isn't bothered, then neither should you be. Just do your job Jimmy. Now, I have to go. The wife's making dinner. I'll speak with you later."
"Thanks Uncle William. Say hi to Aunt Mindi for me."
"Will do. And say hey to your father for me when you see him. Goodbye," and with a small flash, he was gone.
James began to think on his conversation with Dumbledore once more, dissecting it in his mind left and right to make sure he was absolutely right. Once he remembered the entire conversation word for word he stood up and walked to his mirror. He leaned forward on his dresser and looked at himself. "Dumbledore what are you playing at? What are you keeping from me? You said that you have never made the acquaintance with Miss Granger. And yet, I never mentioned her last name to you," James muttered to himself.
Oh this is definitely bigger than his uncle William said. Maybe not for the war, but for himself.