Yo, for the non-believers, Charlie, the definition of Genre: Drama has high stakes and many conflicts. They're plot-driven and demand that every character and scene move the story forward, portraying real-life scenarios or extreme situations with emotionally-driven characters.

P.S. Remember my take on these characters (and the wards) is not my opinion of the canonic characters. But if you insist on being mortally offended by free fiction, I hope Dumbledore is your "favourite" character ;D

Chapter 14 - Broken Bottle

James stared down at the paper. After a time he managed to speak. "This… This makes a sick sort of sense. It at least explains Voldemort's behaviour."

Maybe he hadn't learned much about Sirius, but he had learned a lot about James. His sense of irony, his quirks, his habits… Things that would go unremembered in most memories, but would certainly be recognized by those who had known him.

Sirius cursed. "How could he have planned this? Is this what you were kept alive for—a scapegoat?"

James felt a bit numb as he stared off into the distance, things had been complicated enough before this. Now he was basically wanted as a homegrown terrorist.

Dumbledore didn't even know he was alive yet, or at least he hadn't confirmed it.

"Voldemort said he wanted me to live to see his new world over. He kept me alive so he could gloat. If I had to guess, he found something that would help grant him longevity and he wanted to try it out. I was nothing to him, just a cruel whim."

Sometimes it felt like that was all the world was.

A cursed life dictated by a cruel whim.

Remus laid a hand on his shoulder. "James, if anything, this a sign of how desperate he is."

James gave his old friend a dry look.

Malcolm shook his head. "I'll be working if you gentleman need me." Then he left.
The three Marauders sat at the table in awkward silence. A silence that was broken by a rather peeved Headmaster, who arrived at the cottage in a burst of phoenix flame with his wand raised.

It was going to be a long day, and James's very bones already ached with the exhaustion of it all.

It took several hours of interrogation and magical checks before Albus was satisfied with his story and had squeezed out all the information James had unknowingly gleaned from being at Voldemort's 'tender mercies'.

In the evening, the four of them sat around the table with a cup of tea.

"This is what makes Voldemort so dangerous," Albus said with a heavy sigh. "Gellert was inspirational, disguised his cruelties as sad necessities. Not Voldemort, no, Tom Riddle discovered that fear was so much more powerful a force when uncertainty and weakness in our institutions, when you can no longer trust, in fact, that the government is not upholding your best interests.

"Gellert gave us an 'other' to hate, to dominate. Voldemort gave people the choice to join or be destroyed. Gellert started a war that spanned the continent, because he embraced what was already there.

"Voldemort never declared war, not in an official sense. He targeted everyone and anyone that was advantageous to him. He caused doubt, and there is nothing quite as insidious in a civil war than to be afraid of not just of your neighbours, but even your friends."

James buried his face in his hands. "He beat us before he ever raised a wand against us."

"James," Albus said gently. "Shame and guilt, this too is fear that is meant to destroy us. This is a lesson that I find myself constantly being made to relearn, yet logic tells me that this is the truth. Our losses do not make us stronger. Who we choose to become after our failures is what our enemies should fear. For those of us who have weathered the storms know that it is possible for all storms to be weathered."

"And the destruction that waits for us on the other side?" James asked.

Albus smiled sadly. "Ah, in such times, I find myself grateful to be a teacher. I see the destruction, but I see also the life that keeps going, the new that without hesitation tread paths long forgotten. Your son, James, is perhaps more your equal than your ward these days, but I believe that he needs you now more than ever. You will find your way together."

James shook his head. "I can't let him fight Voldemort, Albus, I can't. Lily would kill me."

Albus sighed. "Harry has already fought him, many times, more than you, more directly than I. As Voldemort has often believed Harry weaker than himself.

"I am no longer certain this is true. Harry's magic is unstable, his mental health is… unwell. However, he is more powerful than ever. With or without permission, he will fight, James. My suggestion is that you fight beside him, lest he take it upon himself to protect you and Sirius."

"He wouldn't," Sirius said, voice panicked.

Remus sighed. "I don't doubt that he would."

"He took on over a hundred dementors for you, Sirius," Albus said. "Until James, I would have said you were Harry's greatest weakness. He clings to the idea of family desperately."

"What does Harry feel for his friends?" Sirius asked. "I can't be the most important person in his life. We haven't—I haven't been there for him."

Albus smiled at him sadly. "Time is not the sum of love, my dear boy. Harry is unfailingly loyal to his friends. But he and his friends have been getting into trouble of the perilous variety since their first year. In many ways, I believe Harry sees his classmates as more capable than the entirety of the Order the Phoenix."

James frowned at Albus. "I feel like I'm going to regret asking this, but what happened in Harry's first year at Hogwarts?"

Albus winced. "Aside from the assassination attempts on the Quidditch pitch, he and his friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, took it upon themselves to puzzle their way through the obstacles we set to alert us to an intruder. Harry faced the soul shard that was feeding off of one of his followers. Specifically, one of my youngest professors."

James stared at him. "Yes, I regret asking. What the bloody hell, Albus? Hogwarts is supposed to be safe."

Remus sighed. "You spent your school years running around in the forest with a werewolf under the full moon."

James pointed at him. "That's different."

Remus looked away from him. "James, I nearly attacked Harry during the full moon."

"Why!?" James exclaimed. "You know better."

"Had Remus remembered," Albus said mournfully, "Sirius would be free and Harry would have been under his custody."

James looked at him. "The Blood Ward?"

Albus inclined his head. "Some of it, I believe, were common mistakes, but Harry's uniquely unfortunate series of events hints to there being an insidious force involved."

"It's broken now, though, correct?" James asked.

Albus shook his head. "No, I don't know that I could do that without killing him. I thought that if he called another place home… but that is not the blood curse I unknowingly activated."

"So this shit is still going to keep happening?" James demanded.

"No, or if it does, I believe it will be more so in your favour. The goblins sent me a letter this morning." Albus reached into his robe's pocket and withdrew an envelope.

James took and opened it, eyes scanning over the paper.

"When you were pronounced dead, or whatever curse Voldemort used, it changed the accounts. But whatever magic that was has been reversed. You are still Head of House Potter, and Harry is not only your heir, but your son and ward. The goblins' magic proves both who you are and who has magical and blood guardianship over Harry."

"We could use this to prove his innocence," Sirius said hopefully.

Albus nodded. "It would, but I don't trust Cornellius to behave inside the laws. I would not ask this of you, James, Sirius, if I had fewer doubts. But for Harry's sake, you should wait. Truth will win out in the end."

Seeing the document declaring Harry as his, legally, offered only a small comfort, but it was better than nothing.

"The curse will make it near impossible for Harry to be taken from you now, James."

It was the kind of wish a dying grandfather or father laid on his heir to keep them in the family.

James shook his head. "I don't like that there is still the Heir's Curse on him, though. It's like an unspecified wish. Anything to keep you together can mean a lot of unfortunate things in the wrong circumstance."

"I know," Albus said. "But as I said, the only ways I know of to break it is to wait the two years it takes for him to come of age, or risk killing him."

Remus rubbed his temples. "This is why we don't experiment with Dark rituals."

"Without it, Harry would be dead," Sirius argued.

Albus sighed. "It is my fault it went so terribly wrong."

James shook his head. "We can't keep going round like this. My fault, your fault, his fault, it doesn't matter. What matters is what we can do and how Harry is now."

Albus nodded. "If it wouldn't implicate Harry, I would have brought him here with me but he can't be seen as running."

"If Harry wants to move, we move," James said firmly. "Lily and I should have fled the country when we had the chance."

"I offered Harry that chance in third year," Sirius said. "Granted, I wasn't put together, half-starved as I was, nor his real dad, but I don't think he'll leave his friends behind."

"He won't," Remus concurred. "He wants to join the Order, and he's teaching his DADA club."

"Harry will be picked up by the Weasleys and brought here next week for winter break," Albus said.

James narrowed his gaze on him. "Now what am I missing? The worst that could happen is a representative comes to the Ministry and asks him questions, right?"

"No," Albus said, flatly. "The worst that could happen is Harry being arrested for the murder of seventh-year student Cedric Diggory, son of Amos Diggory."

James blinked. "The Hufflepuff seeker who died on the Quidditch pitch last year, right?"

The three other men winced, but Albus's shoulders sagged a bit. "So Harry told you about the Triwizard Tournament?"

"The what?"

"Or maybe not," Remus said with a sigh.

Albus was shame-faced and Sirius was curled around himself as if he were a kicked puppy.

James had to take a few calming breaths. "First tell me how you will prevent that from happening, then tell me why my fourteen-year-old son was involved with a tournament suspended hundreds of years ago because it killed too many people."

After Albus finished speaking, James was almost glad Lily wasn't here. She would have burned the entire wizarding world down to ashes.

oOo

Minerva hated having to suspend Harry's teacher assistant positions. Filius hated it, too.

She hated more that Harry had to quit the art club and that she had to move him to the currently unoccupied Head Boy suite because she didn't trust her students not to do something stupid.

Harry sat at the Slytherin table for meals every day that week, and shuffled between classes with them. It got to the point where Minerva simply reassigned Harry's schedule to match the Slytherins'.

Meanwhile, Umbridge was glorying in Harry's suffering, and though it killed Minerva to not speak out against this treatment, there were legal ramifications to doing so.

Such as implicating herself and Harry in harbouring a known terrorist.

The one thing she could offer was her classroom for Harry, Luna, and Theo to study and relax together in peace.

Once Umbridge tried to disturb them, looking for where Harry slept at night, and Minerva had 'accidentally' spilled a large trunk of mice that she had been preparing for the next day's classes.

Umbridge had left the room screaming, much to the delight of her students.

It was a small comfort, but it was good to see Harry laugh.

oOo

"I can't believe this is happening," Harry said. "I don't even know how it helps him. Sure it causes chaos, but what does he gain?"

"Fear," Luna answered. "It strips you of your allies. More effective than last time."

Harry dropped his head into his hands. "What even changed this time?"

Luna stared at him. "Harry, you nearly killed him in a dream. According to the prophecy, you're his equal, and you proved that."

"All I proved was that I was willing to die to resist him," he argued. "But he already knew that."

"He didn't know you could hurt him," she countered.

"But he did! I nearly killed him with Quirrell in my first year."

"Yes, and instead of killing you outright, he went through all that trouble to get your blood, to have you witness his resurrection. The blood ward your mother created was a weakness he needed to best, and he needed you there, to die before witnesses, before his followers, not just to defeat you, but humiliate you."

Harry stared at her. "Humiliate me? Like he intended to do my father?"

"Exactly," Luna said. "It's nonsensical, but he's compulsive."

"He's bloody fragile," Harry retorted. "Him and his ego."

"Broken glass can be more dangerous than a full bottle," Luna said sagely.

oOo

Fleur Delacour didn't like Britain, and she didn't particularly like the man she was engaged to.

Or at least not as she had been.

She had thought it was her. That is, she had until she saw his apathy for his little brother's death.

Taking a deep breath as quietly as she could, she snuck up on him in their cottage library.

Wordlessly, she sent a Stunning Spell at him.

Bill was out of his chair in an instant. His eyes seemed to glow with malice as he flicked her spell aside.

"Where is my William?" Fleur demanded.

He sneered at her, his face contorting in a way her lover's face never had. "Took you long enough, you simpering twit."

Her magic rose in her and the spells that left her wand were not entirely from a book, her natural element of fire adding a certain umph the purely human spells lacked.

But whoever had stolen her love was good, working nimbly to deflect or shield each spell.

"Why are you after, 'Arry?" she asked.

Bill's face broke into a manic grin. "He defeated Voldemort. Harry Potter is the true Dark Lord, and when he rises to power I will be at his side. And I will not be forgotten!"

Fleur had to jump out of the way of the blasting jinx he sent at her, destroying the wall behind her.

"'Arry is good. Don't believe the papers. They are wrong."

"Of course they are wrong. James Potter is weak. Sirius Black is a coward. Severus Snape is Dumbledore's cuck. But Harry Potter? He's true power. And when he remakes the world I will be on the right side."

"You're insane," she snapped, fear cloying against her throat.

"No, you are blind!" he roared as they exchanged curses and counter charms. "He is Wind-Touched, Lightning-Born. He is a power not seen on this earth since the time of Merlin." The man laughed wildly. "All would bow before him."

Fleur thought of the boy who had blushed under her praise, who had sobbed over a boy who wasn't his friend and whose death was not his fault.

That was the boy this imposter thought was a Dark Lord?

She cursed in French and threw a curse at him that her grandmother had taught her.

The imposter threw himself to the side, his robes fluttering behind him. He snarled, "Unlike Bill Weasley, no one will miss you, Ms. Delacour. I think dearest Molly would be glad to be rid of you."

Fleur didn't back down, but maybe she should have. She hit the floorboards—hard—and the man walked over to her, wand spinning in his hand as he placed his boot on her throat.

"You will be reunited with your William soon, my darling. As easy as it would be to make you disappear, I think I may have a use for you."

She glared up at him, swearing to herself that she would make ce bâtard pay.

oOo

On his way to the Room of Requirement, Harry was stopped by Fred and George in the hall.

Fred spoke first, "Harry, we need you to know that we don't believe the papers."

"Great, but I hear a 'but' coming."

"Mum is distraught after losing Percy, we can't… Mum asked us to stay away from you. We just need to give her time to grieve."

"And Ron?" Harry asked.

George gave him a pleading look. "He doesn't blame you."

Anger simmered in Harry's veins. "And he thinks what about my father?"

Fred and George gave him wide eyes, and they asked together, "Wait, that was your father?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but he's alive. He's been tortured by Voldemort for the last year. Voldemort tried out some stasis curse on him, that's why he had to be taken out of his grave."

"So the man at the ministry was—" Fred began.

"Voldemort," Harry confirmed.

Fred and George exchanged a look.

George cleared his throat. "We believe you, Harry. Voldemort killing Percy in an insane terrorist attack on the capital makes more sense than your undead father."

"He's not undead," Harry snapped. "In the graveyard, Cedric and my mother, andfollowed by some other shades, came out of Voldemort's wand, but there was just a burst of white light before my mum while there was a green light for the shot he fired at me when I was a baby. I didn't know what it meant at the time, but I do now. James Potter was never dead."

"Do you need a hug?" Fred asked suddenly.

"What?" Harry asked, startled.

"Do you want a hug?" George repeated.

"Um," Harry answered lamely. "Sure?"

A moment later, he found himself embraced between the two twins.

It was nice.

When they pulled back, Fred ruffled his hair. "We'll talk to Ron, and Mum will come around, she's just grieving. Right now, respecting her fears will help settle her sooner. Losing one of us has always been her worst fear, she's not thinking logically right now."

Harry remembered Molly's boggart. Remembered every Weasley child being replaced by another Weasley, until it was Harry's own vacant eyes he had seen.

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry about Percy."

Fred and George gave him the same sad smile, and George said, "We didn't always get along—"

"He was our least favourite sibling," Fred admitted.

Then they said together, "But he was our brother."

George placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "And we see you as the same. You haven't been as close this year with Ron, but Percy had been reaching out to him more and more. Helping with his studies and everything. He's not ready to open up yet."

Guilt swam in Harry's gut. He remembered what Luna had said about Voldemort wanting him to be alone, for there to be distance between him and his closest friends.

"I'm here for you, if you need me," he said finally.

"Thanks, Harry," the twins said in unison, waving goodbye in sync as they headed down another hallway.

By the time Harry got to the Room of Requirement, Luna and Hermoine were already there waiting for him.

Of the Houses in addition to the three of them, only the Patil twins weren't from Slytherin House.

"Well," Harry said. "That's a bit depressing."

"I'm surprised the Weasleys aren't here," Parvati said.

Hermione shook her head. "Percy died this week. They aren't blaming Harry, they are just respecting their mum's wishes."

"I thought the Weasley Matron had all but adopted you," Theo remarked.

Harry winced. "I might have sassed her, a lot. And after what happened to Ginny our second year, Ron third year, and Cedric dying last year… Being my friend isn't exactly safe."

"Speaking of safety," Blaise said. "What are we doing today?"

"Shields and stunners," Harry said.

"You don't think we are beyond that by now?" Theo asked.

Harry shook his head. "We don't have to worry about House tensions tonight, this is going to be a free for all. General teams, but you are allowed to target whomever you like."

Theo and Blaise actually smiled.

It was a fun afternoon.

Harry, Luna, and Hermione ended up going back-to-back and were an unhittable force. The Patil Twins went rogue, taking down anyone and everyone, and when one got hit the other would Rennervate them before they hit the ground. And the Slytherins just let loose. Any type of decorum was lost as they whooped and hollered in the fully padded room.

It was one of the best club nights ever.

oOo

Luna listened to the forest as she walked deeper into its depths. The forest was so dark even the moonlight could hardly penetrate the shadows. The trees were draped in snow. She walked through the forest, guided by instinct she hardly understood herself.

Her skin hurt, her mind pounded, and her magic roared like an echo of her pulse in her own ears.

Her mother had named it the call and Luna knew—knew—that she should not follow it. This call had led her mother down a path she had not returned from.

Spell-crafting and potion experiments, pushing magic beyond its known bounds.

Luna had learned to subdue her own curiosity about magic in that way, not wanting to do to her father what her mother had done to him.

But she couldn't not read the books Dumbledore had given to Harry.

Luna came to a halt in the Forbidden Forest, somewhere even the centaurs did not venture. The Thestrals stalked the shadows of the trees, guarding her as she raised her hands, her wand still holstered in her low ponytail.

Luna took a deep breath, closed her eyes and listened to the shuffle of the wind through the bare branches. The sound of branches knocking together joined a chorus that sounded as if the night itself was shivering.

Goosebumps rose across Luna's skin, but not from the cold.

She exhaled, reaching out her fingers until her power, her magic road along the snow.

Harry was the wind. But Luna was something else. Something that could take many forms, that could be as peaceful as a frozen lake or as violent as mountain rapids.

Luna's magic called to the song that had been whispering to her as long as she could remember.

The snow took the form of water and, at her direction, rose like rain.

Exhilaration filled her as her magic was given form without form.

It was freedom.

Pure, unrestricted freedom.

Luna pulled the water around her in ribbons that shimmered in the moonlight.

Elemental magic was neither Charms nor Transfiguration. It was its own magic. The magic of the world that could only be coaxed into listening to a witch or wizard's song spun from their own magical core.

Hearts speaking to hearts.

Luna danced with the water in the forest. The cold did not touch her. Her worries for her friends, for her father, for the war, falling away as she embraced her magic.

For this night, she let it go, and she could have sworn her mother was there with her in that clearing.

Dancing with her beneath the moonlight.

oOo

Thank you, Sectumus Prince!

oOo

AN: Thoughts, Welsh dragons, or feedback, pretty please?