A/N: I realize that apparently this didn't go up last night as planned, thank you to Sweet Smiles and Dweiathecat for letting me know. Hopefully it'll work this time. Thank you!
It was Thursday morning and James was teaching a class of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws about demetors. He leaned back against the wall as the class took a quick quiz on the reading assigned last class. Time, he thought as he checked his pocket watch.
"Time's up, pass your quizzes to the front." He waited until he had all twenty three pieces of parchments before speaking. Just as he was opening his mouth, however, the door burst open and Hermione and Draco ran in.
"James!"
He sighed, placed the quizzes on the desk, and looked at the two panting Seventh Years.
"Father," Draco gasped. "Father's here for you. Said it was urgent."
Hermione nodded emphatically just as Lucius himself strode into the room.
"James, we have a situation," he said, obviously controlling himself from shouting that they needed to hurry.
James looked at them all before heading towards the door. "Draco, tell Severus that he needs to supervise my class, Hermione go tell Albus that I'm leaving for an indeterminate amount of time."
"Do you want to know now?" Lucius asked as the children sped off in opposite directions, leaving James and Lucius to make their way to James's rooms.
James didn't answer and simply lead the way, making sharp turns through tapestries and seemingly solid walls, ending up at his door in virtually no time.
"Tell me," he ordered as the door closed behind them, fixing his luminous green eyes on the blonde.
"Ingrid suddenly started causing problems, insisting that there had to be an alternative. The Dark Lord is not amused."
"What about Nicole? Monica? Henry?"
"Nicole is with us as always, Monica seems to be waiting to see how things turn out with Ingrid, and Henry is sympathetic to our cause."
James slung his cloak over his shoulders and turned to the floo. He stepped into the green flames and disappeared, quickly followed by Lucius who shouted "Finnish Ministry!"
Despite having only visited the Finnish Ministry of Magic twice before, James remembered the layout of the lofty complex vividly. He proceeded through the halls with a preciseness that led people to believe he had to be someone high up, and therefore the crowds of people parted before him. Lucius watched in silent respect from behind, following James throughout the building until they finally arrived at the Minister's office.
"We're expected," Lucius drawled to the stunned secretary as James walked straight past her without acknowledgement.
"James, thank Merlin you're here," the blonde woman said, rising from her armchair just as Lucius closed the door.
James accepted her hug and glanced at Marvolo before pulling back and fixing his eyes on her. "What seems to be the problem, Ingrid?"
"Problem? This is ridiculous, James."
"What is? Don't speak in generalities, Ingrid. I was pulled away from something to come here, give me specifics or I will leave."
Ingrid looked a bit hurt at the curtness of his tone. "Muggleborns, as your British call them, are my problem. You cannot expect me to condone these requirements. Taking children from their parents while they're so young, it's inhumane."
James sighed and took a seat on the side of the divan opposite Marvolo, leaving Ingrid to lower herself back into her chair. Lucius remained standing behind the divan, positioned between James and Marvolo.
"How is it inhumane to take these children from people who cannot possibly understand them?"
"They're their parents, of course they can understand them."
"Oh, surely some of them will try, but there is never a way for muggles to truly understand magic and therefore they cannot understand their children. And then there are the parents that won't try to understand, the ones that do not care to. What of them? You do realize there are parents that would sooner try to beat the 'strangeness' out of their children than accept that they are different."
Ingrid looked scandalized. "You cannot be serious."
"Very. It would be beneficial for all in such cases if the children were taken from their parents and given to those fit to raise them."
"But how would you find such people?"
"It's simple, really," James said, shrugging. "We leave the children to magical orphanages or to preapproved people that are unable to reproduce but wish for children. Of course there would be extensive screening processes for both the orphanages' staff and the people who applying for custody. Negligence in such areas will not be tolerated, and ill-treatment will not happen." James smiled a very cold smile at the end of this, leaving no doubt that he would personally take an interest in such matters.
"But-"
"Ingrid, you grew up in a magical household. You wanted for nothing, especially not the affection of your parents. I've met them, they're good people. However that is not so for all children with magical abilities. I have, throughout the years, met many who suffered through the exact circumstances that I have outlined. I will not deny that I have known people that grew up in loving households, but I've also encountered those who suffered worse than what I've described."
He paused, allowing her to speak. When she merely stared at him, he proceeded. "Also, when muggleborns are brought up in the muggle world, they wish to return to it. This is where we have issues with exposure and waning magical abilities."
"Waning magical abilities?"
"Well, when a witch or wizard has a child with a muggle, the child's power will always be less than their parent's. That problem isn't present in wizarding society except for the occasional squib."
"Truly?" Ingrid asked, looking to Marvolo and Lucius who both nodded. "Well then, I expect that I have some matters to think over."
"I knew you would understand, Ingrid," James said sweetly, standing. "Now, I do have classes yet to teach today, so I really must be going."
"You're teaching, James? I thought you hated children."
James sighed in a very put upon manner. "I was unable to avoid it, it's terrible."
Ingrid laughed, a smile finally making its way onto her face, and rose from her own seat, moving forward to embrace James again. "You will come visit me? Michael and the girls have been asking after you."
"How about this Saturday at noon? I won't have class on the weekend."
"That sounds perfect, and I can tell you my decision then," she said, glancing hesitantly at Marvolo. That worthy took this as his cue to stand.
"Thank you for your time," Marvolo said graciously, smiling his professional smile as he shook her hand and headed for the door.
Ingrid saw them out, and soon they were weaving back through the Finnish Ministry towards the exit. James strode ahead and Marvolo followed just behind him, observing the young man that had so easily convinced the most powerful person in Wizarding Finland to do exactly as he wanted.
"You realize I was there for an hour before you came," Marvolo said tonelessly as they approached the one of the fireplaces.
James ignored his words. "Are you coming with me?"
"I think so. Lucius you may return home."
"My Lord," he said quietly, dipping his head. He repeated the motion for James before flooing to Malfoy Manor.
Soon enough they were seated in James's sitting area, a house elf having just delivered tea. "A whole hour?" James asked, breaking the silence they'd adopted since the Ministry.
"She was being most unyielding. And yet you arrive and it doesn't even take half that time."
"I have my ways."
"Indeed. Tell me, are you acquainted with all the local Ministers?"
"Just France, Germany, Finland, Denmark, Brazil, Australia, and the next Japanese Minister. I don't care for the British Minister, although I've yet to point that out to Cornelius. He's too Dumbledore's pocket man for my tastes." James scrunched up his nose slightly.
"The next Japanese Minister?" Marvolo asked, amused.
"Satsuki will take over soon enough," was the placid reply.
Marvolo let his head fall back as he laughed. "Your connections will never cease to amuse and astound me."
James grinned. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Marvolo took a sip of tea before replacing the delicate cup on the table. He leaned back and watched James speculatively. "Tell me, what would you have done if the Finnish Minister had proved…difficult."
James didn't even pause before replying. "I would have pointed out that their Auror intake has been declining steadily for the past fifteen ten years and that they currently have the single lowest amount on active duty since 1944. Then I would have mentioned that your current forces are on par with Britain's Auror department, which is second only to Germany's. Ingrid would have relented and seen our side of things."
Marvolo shook his head, grinning. "Remind me to never offend you."
James laughed and placed his own cup on the table, standing and moving towards Marvolo. He settled himself into Marvolo's lap swiftly, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I know what you could do to not offend me," he said, voice low.
Marvolo's hands moved to rest on James's hip as that worthy kissed a path down to his throat. "And what might that be?" he asked huskily.
"Shh," was the last thing James said before biting down on Marvolo's neck, causing a low groan.
"Do you think he's back yet?"
"He should be, Father sent me a letter saying that all went well and that he had returned home."
"What was so urgent anyway?" Hermione asked as they turned a corner.
"Political matters, I'm not really sure myself," Draco said. He grimaced at that, hating that he had to admit his ignorance. Not that he was truly ignorant, he simply couldn't tell Granger of the true nature of James's political activities. The grimace, however, simply helped to convince Hermione of his sincerity.
"He's very spread out, it's actually quite interesting. I tried researching him some and found that he's apparently lived all over the world. Did you know that?" she asked as they descended a flight of stairs.
"Yes, he told me once some of the places. The only ones I currently remember are Denmark, Brazil, and France."
Hermione stopped dead, causing Draco to turn and stare at her. "Denmark, Brazil, and France?" she asked, eyes far away.
"Yes?"
"Malfoy, the author of those books was studying people in Brazil, Denmark, and France."
Draco stared at her. "It could be a coincidence."
"The books are original copies without the author's name on either of them. How hard do you think those would be for someone to get?"
"Almost impossible for anyone other than the author."
"Malfoy…he's the author."
"We can't prove it…"
"We could ask him."
"We could just as easily find another copy of the book."
"Or we could just ask him," Hermione persisted.
Draco nodded. "We were heading there anyways." He turned and resumed walking with haste, Hermione following closely behind him.
When they arrived at James's rooms Draco knocked and waited, but no answer came.
"He must not be back, let's leave a note."
Draco nodded and pressed his palm to the door, smiling with satisfaction as the lock clicked open. He turned the knob and opened the door, stepped over the threshold and stopped dead. Hermione, right behind him, collided with his back.
"What the hell, Malfoy?" she asked, rubbing her nose as she stepped back. She peered around his side and immediately flushed a deep crimson. She quickly stepped back and pulled Draco back into the hallway, yanking the door shut behind them. The two of them stood there for a few moments, determinedly not looking at each other, before the door opened again.
"Can we help you?" Marvolo drawled, clearly irritated.
It was Hermione who worked up the courage first. "We, we wanted to ask Jam- P-professor Evans something, sir." Hermione could barely look at the man as she stuttered through the sentence.
"You're the Granger girl," he stated, looking her up and down.
"Y-yes sir."
He eyed her speculatively for a moment more before disappearing back into the room. "They're here for you, James."
"Come in, Draco, Hermione," James's familiar, if slightly hoarse, called from inside the room. When the two enter Marvolo was nowhere to be seen and only James remained, sitting on the divan with his legs tightly crossed.
"Now what is it that you needed?" he asked, and both Seventh Years tried very hard not to stare at his swollen lips, the only true giveaway as to what he'd just been involved in.
"Did you write those books?" Hermione blurted out into the awkward silence.
James just raised an eyebrow.
"Are you the author of Weaving the Waves and Spiral Connections?" Draco clarified.
"Yes," he said simply, suppressing a smile when they both finally turned to stare at him in awe. "If that's all…"
"Yes! Yes, of course!"
"We'll, um, come back some other time."
The two practically ran out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind them.
"Are they gone?" asked a bored voice from the partially open door on the right.
"Yes," James said, standing and walking over to his bedroom, pushing the door completely open.
"Good, now I believe we were in the middle of something…" Marvolo said, his voice low. James stared at the picture the man made: sprawled on his sheets, hair messed up, eyes almost black and watching him in anticipation.
"Quite," he said, moving forward towards the bed.
A/N: You know, I think this is the most devoted I've been to something in a while. You guys should be proud of yourselves for being such great motivation. As always, please review!