Come Saturday morning, James had calmed down, and had succeeded in accepting that it looked like his dad was the reason why everyone stared at him. However, he still hadn't come to terms with the implications of the prophet article that they had found the previous evening.

He was mulling all of these thoughts as he sat at breakfast with Matt and Ali. They were eating in relative silence as they each mused on their discovery, and what the best way to move forwards was. Finally, James spoke up.

"Look guys," he said, drawing their attention, "I'm really sorry I snapped at you last night." He looked guiltily down at his hands, and was shocked when Matt snorted.

"You haven't been fretting over that have you?" he asked, amusement colouring his voice.

"Um."

"Because it's fine. We get it – you were surprised, and hurt, by the accusations the paper made about your dad. You should have seen me after I got my Hogwarts letter." He broke off, chuckling at the memory.

James looked up into the earnest faces of his friends, and found only honesty there. Smiling to himself, he turned back to his breakfast.

"I'm being silly, aren't I?"

However, what the response would have been was lost, as a body flung itself down onto the bench between Matt and James.

Turning to the new arrival, James' eyebrows rose as he recognised the hufflepuff. Glancing at Matt and Ali questioningly, he saw that they too wore similar expressions to his. He also noted that Michael and Daniel were watching with some amusement from where they sat just down from the three friends.

Turning back to Emily, James prepared himself from the verbal barrage that he was sure would follow. Sure enough, it was only moments before her mouth opened.

"Look, I'm really sorry if I annoyed you, or came across too enthusiastically. I'm all too aware that I can be a bit intimidating at times."

James' eyebrows, if possible, rose even higher. Emily either didn't notice this, or she chose to ignore it, and carried on.

"It's just, I was so excited to meet you. It's awesome that one of Harry Potter's children is my age, and I'd always hoped that we could be friends…" She broke off, looking a bit embarrassed at her admission. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, well, I really look up to your dad. He's such a good role model."

"Er," James stared at the girl in puzzlement. Sure, his dad was his role model, but why would he be anyone else's, let alone a complete stranger's? Why would anyone else know him enough to make him out as a role model? "Okay?"

Emily smiled, and patted James' hand, as though he had said exactly what she wanted to hear. "So, tell me. What's it like having Harry Potter as your dad?"

James glanced at his friends in panic – what he was supposed to say to that? They, apparently, didn't know either. Matt just shrugged, and returned to his third helping of breakfast, whereas Ali looked just as confused as James, but he could tell, from the way she was staring at nothing in particular, that she was trying to put all of the pieces together in her mind.

Realising he was on his own in this one, he turned back to the eager girl before him. "Um, it's good? He's a very good father?" He didn't really know what else to say, given that he didn't really understand what she was asking him.

"Yes, but what's it really like? What's it like hearing all the stories first hand?"

"The stories?" James was beyond confused now; was she asking about his dad's days as an aurror?

Emily was looking at him dubiously, as though she were questioning his sanity. However, both we saved from saying anything, when a giggling hufflepuff came and dragged Emily away. James stared blankly as Emily wiggled her fingers at him, before disappearing off with her friend, their giggles carrying clearly across the hall.

He turned back to his friends, his face blank, and his mind even more so. "Ungh?"

Matt snorted, and clapped James on the back. "I always knew you were the eloquent sort," he smiled. James couldn't help but join in with the laughter, and soon Ali followed suit.

It felt good to laugh. James hadn't realised how much tension had built up over the week as they searched for answers, and it was good to just let go. Soon the laughter progressed beyond what was rational, and Michael and Daniel exchanged a worried glance at the hysteria that had erupted before them.

It was at least five minutes before the three had calmed down enough to do anything other than slump helplessly onto the table, and wait for their mirth to pass.

Taking a deep breath, and wiping the tears from her eyes, Ali turned to James. "What was that all about then?"

He paused, trying to find something to say in response, but in the end, he just gave up, and shrugged.

"Wait," said Daniel, catching their attention, "You really don't know do you? I thought you were just messing about, but…"

James stared incredulously at his dorm mate – clearly he was supposed to be well aware of the reason why everyone knew him, which just begged the question: why?

"What is it?" he asked desperately, leaning towards the other boy.

Daniel looked at him dubiously. He had thought that James was just a really down-to-earth kind of guy; the idea that he really didn't know hadn't occurred to him until now. He didn't want to say anything – there could be a very good reason why no one had ever told him. Turning to his friend who sat beside him, he widened his eyes in a silent plea for help.

"It doesn't matter," said Michael. Like Ali, he was perceptive, and had noticed that his three classmates were spending much more time in the library than their homework warranted. "I'm sure you'll figure it out soon enough."

"What? No, wait!" cried James as the two friends took their leave of the breakfast table in order to head out and find something to do for the day. He turned back to his friends, despondency clear on his face.

Ali, remembering his reaction on Monday lunch, repressed the urge to hug the boy before her – he looked like he might break down at any moment. Instead, she offered the only consolation that would really help.

"Library?"

Matt chewed his lip nervously as he reread the article in the prophet he was reading. He should tell James about it, but he couldn't quite bring himself to. When they had arrived at the library, they had decided to split up, and each look at a different time frame: James was skimming the main headlines of the year preceding the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Ali was checking through the prophets for the Tri-Wizard year again, and Matt was working his way through the copies following James' dad's fourth year, starting with the summer.

However, he had yet to raise any of the things he'd found because, well, James could be a temperamental to say the least. And there was an overarching theme arising in the papers.

Matt's brow furrowed as he flipped through another week's worth of papers, all of them showing more of the same sort of thing. The prophet, it would seem, had decided that Voldemort had not returned. Therefore, it had decided that the best way to make people accept this was to lay claims against the sanity and integrity of both James' dad, and Dumbledore.

And this was what was confusing Matt so much. Sure, he knew enough about Dumbledore to know that questioning his integrity was a wise political move, if you wanted to assert yourself as the 'top dog'. But to question the integrity of a fourteen year-old school boy? What was that going to achieve?

The metallic tang of blood drew him out of his trance as he realised that he had chewed through the skin of his lip. Sighing, he closed the papers before him, and looked up at the other two.

Ali was deeply absorbed in an article that they had already read – Matt assumed that she was searching for clues that they might have missed before. James on the other hand, was flipping idly through papers. Unlike Matt and Ali, there seemed to be no method to the way that James was flipping through the papers.

Matt watched his friend closely as he deliberated how to phrase what he needed to tell him. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just bite the bullet, and go for it.

"James," he said, breaking the silence of a Saturday morning in the library. "I found some, er, articles about your dad."

James' head immediately snapped up, followed closely by Ali's. "What do they say?"

"It's not very nice," Matt said tentatively. James' eyes narrowed dangerously, and Matt, registering the look, pushed the paper he was reading to him. He watched apprehensively as two pairs of eyes slid across the page.

"Hmm," said Ali, finishing the article first, "It would seem that the prophet continued their line of argument following Diggory's death."

"But why?" responded Matt, glancing at James who was staring listlessly at the page before him. Finally, the other boy spoke up.

"Who cares? Wondering about why the prophet does what it does could take forever, and it's not going to answer our questions." Matt and Ali stared at James in surprise, but he ignored them and continued flipping through papers at random.

That is, until one particular paper caught his eye. If his blasé attitude had been concerning, that was nothing compared to how the other two felt when their companion simply froze. After a moment or two of worrying silence, he let out an angry hiss.

"What?"

"What is it?" asked Matt in alarm. He was answered by a replication of his earlier actions when the paper was flung at his chest.

Spreading it out on the table, Ali came and sat beside him, and together they read the article which dominated the front page.

*"BLACK STILL AT LARGE

"Sirius Black, possibly the most infamous prisoner ever to be held in Azkaban fortress, is still eluding capture, the Ministry of Magic confirmed today.

"'We are doing all we can to recapture Black,' said the Minster for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, this morning, 'and we beg the magical community to remain calm.'

"Fudge has been criticised by some members of the International Federation of Warlocks for informing the Muggle Prime Minister of the crisis.

"'Well, really, I had to, don't you know,' said an irritable Fudge. 'Black is mad. He's a danger to anyone who crosses him, magic or Muggle. I have the Prime Minister's assurance that he will not breathe a word of Black's true identity to anyone. And let's face it – who'd believe him if he did?'

"While Muggles have been told that Black is carrying a gun (a kind of metal wand which Muggles use to kill each other), the magical community lives in fear of a massacre like that of twelve years ago, when Black murdered thirteen people with a single curse."

Matt looked up from the article, and met Ali's confused gaze.

"What does this have to do with anything though?" she asked.

Matt, however, ignored her, and looked over at a seething James. "But didn't you say that Sirius Black was your dad's godfather? The one you were named for?"

James simply nodded tersely, and continued to glare at the table.

"Your parents know this man?" asked Ali, shocked.

"Yes," James responded. "He was like a father to Dad." He stopped, looking troubled. "They must have known about this though. How could they not?"

Ali, for once, was at a loss to say anything. She looked to Matt, hoping he would have some sort of insight. Matt, in turn, looked at James, and realised that his friend wasn't angry anymore, he was just confused and with that confusion came sadness.

"James," Matt began, but he was cut off.

"They lied to me. They said he was a good man. When I asked who I was named after, they told me I was named after two men who fell fighting against Voldemort. Two good men." There was a catch in James' voice, a vulnerability. In that moment, it was more apparent than ever that these children were exactly that. They were still children, and yet here was James, learning that everything he had ever known to be true may, in fact, be a mask.

James looked up, and met Matt's gaze, and Matt saw the tears starting to form in the corners of his friends eyes. In that instant, something clicked in Matt's mind, and he felt a sense of certainty. It was something that he would always have; some people would simply say it was intuition, or being able to read a situation well, but to Matt, and those who knew him best, it was something more.

In a calm, level voice, Matt made his first promise to James. "He was innocent."

* Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, pages 33-34

AN: Sorry, this is completely irrelevant to the story, but is anyone else having trouble seeing their traffic for the past few days? Thanks.