Chapter Twenty-Six

James forced himself to get up, in spite of his exhaustion and the lingering soreness in his left shoulder. He felt like the entire fall term had come crashing down around him, and all the things that had been weighing on him were finally going to pull him down once and for all. He was tired of trying to fight it and desperately wanted to give in and just collapse, but he couldn't: not there, not then, not ever. He had to be strong—for his dad, for Sirius, for Lily, even if he never saw her or talked to her or Merlin! kissed her again.

She had only woken up the day before, but it had been the hardest twenty-four hours since, sharing a room with her and not being able to relax. He was relieved beyond belief that she was going to recover, but his guilt wouldn't let him be happy. Instead, he was convinced that they were simply doomed: that nothing would ever work out for them and that it wasn't even safe to try anymore. He was dangerous: he would only hurt her and get her hurt.

A small part of his mind berated this decision, sounding a bit like Sirius; but then Sirius had taken a chance, and all it had got him was an owl from Professor Dumbledore first thing that morning informing him that Arlienne Lestrange had transferred to school in France and would not be returning to Hogwarts. He had quickly stormed off, furious at the world yet again. James's father had gone after him, but Sirius had Apparated away. James had a feeling he knew where Sirius would be. He'd talk him down…and maybe Sirius could talk him out of his own dismal thoughts as well.

Pulling the curtain around his bed, James dressed as quickly and quietly as he could. He grabbed his glasses and wand from the side table and tossed a small bag of belongings over his good shoulder; his injured shoulder was out of the sling but still stiff.

He glanced back at Lily as he walked toward the door, his heart pounding in his chest. He was sure it was the right thing…and yet he wasn't. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn't it just work out for them, for once?

As he pulled the door open, James heard a rustling behind him. "You're not actually leaving without saying goodbye, are you?" asked Lily, pulling herself up and rubbing her eyes. James stopped with his hand on the knob. "You need more rest."

"I'm fine," he muttered. He turned around, but did not look at her, knowing he would give in if he did. "I have to go. Sirius had some bad news."

Lily frowned. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"Yes, but he probably needs to blow off some steam, so I need to make sure he doesn't explode." James turned back toward the door.

"Wait." He did.

"Are you all right?" Lily asked. James tried not to let his shoulders slump, but it was hard. He wasn't all right, and he knew it. It was all catching up to him, yet he couldn't fall now. He took a breath and answered as truthfully as he could.

"I will be." As soon as he said it, he knew what he had to do in order to make it true. He knew how to be rid of the crushing guilt and uncertainty. It might be the hardest thing he ever did, but it made sense. It would be the best for everyone. He tried to smile at her, even though it was cutting him up inside to think he might never see her again.

"You'll come back?" she asked.

This time he lied.

"Yes."

And he left…but he wasn't going back.

He found Sirius exactly where he thought he would: sitting in the Hog's Head, pushing around a half-finished lunch plate as he stared out the window at the castle. Less crowded and a bit more dodgy than the Three Broomsticks, Sirius had always preferred it when he was in one of his moods. Nodding at the eternally grumpy barman, James helped himself to a chair and sat down silently, waiting for Sirius to talk.

"Took you long enough to find me," he finally grumbled.

James shrugged. "I knew you'd be here—just figured you'd want a few hours before I tracked you down."

"Right." Sirius snorted and took another sip of his drink. "More like you went right back to bed."

James ignored the retort and raised an eyebrow at his friend's glass. "Pumpkin juice?" he asked. "Really?"

"It's early, Prongs," Sirius replied with an arched eyebrow. "And I already went through that. I don't need to start again."

"I might," James muttered, earning a skeptical look from Sirius. He went ahead and ordered a pint of Steaming Stout, and they sat in silence a bit more. James knew he should ask about Arlienne, but couldn't bring himself to start a conversation; he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts after the long week, even though he knew how selfish it was.

"Did you talk to Lily before you left?" Sirius asked instead. "Really talk to her?"

James blew out a long breath. He wanted to talk about it, but also wanted to just ignore it. He friends wouldn't let him, though; if he didn't talk to Sirius, Remus would find some excuse to stop by, and even Peter in his simple, obvious way would probably try to worm it out of him at some point.

"No," he answered reluctantly. "I didn't. I couldn't. I don't even know what to say, so it's better left unsaid."

"Well," Sirius said, swirling his juice. "You're not just going to ignore her, are you? After all you've been through—"

"After all we've been through," James interrupted, "it would be better for her to stay away from me. Safer."

Sirius stared at him and laughed. "Can you hear yourself? You sound like a bloody horklump, Prongs. Get over yourself."

"Easy for you to say," James muttered. "You don't let down the people you care about."

"That's because I have no one to let down," Sirius snapped, then rolled his eyes. "Except you lot, and right now you're so pathetic I don't think I'll count you."

James just scowled as his drink arrived and ordered some food. "Have you heard from Arlienne?" he finally asked, wanting to change the subject. He had come to check on Sirius, after all, not talk about his own problems…not really.

Sirius sighed. "Actually, I did. She's leaving day after Boxing Day to spend some time in Paris before starting at that stuck-up school, Beauxbatons. She didn't say much else, though—probably couldn't since our last owl was obviously intercepted." He stared into his glass, and James felt guilty for bringing it up, but sensed Sirius needed to talk as much as he did.

"Are you going to try to see her again before she leaves?" James asked.

"It's over, Prongs," Sirius said, and he looked uncharacteristically defeated. "There's nothing else to do about it."

"Beat the bloody pulp out of her brothers?" James asked, narrowing his eyes at his friend, who never given up on anything before. "Run off to France after her?"

"And get us both killed?" asked Sirius. "I know when to leave well enough alone, Prongs. That was a close call in Diagon Alley. She may be worth sneaking out for, and even taking a few hits in the hallway for, but not if her family is going to punish her for it." He looked away before turning back to James. "They did, you know-they punished her, and I don't just mean pulling her out of Hogwarts. The next time could be worse, and I can't put her through that."

James tapped his fork on the table, wondering what to say next. He was slightly surprised at Sirius's attitude; he had halfway expected him to keep after her, since he rarely gave up on anything, and he knew this girl was different. But it seemed Sirius had finally accepted the gravity of the situation: seeing Arlienne would only bring them both more pain. The distance between them was too great in spite of their feelings for each other, the enmity of their families too strong to fight.

Feeling wretched that he was disappointed he hadn't found his friend in a more reckless state of mind, James finally posed his own thoughts as an offhand question. "Are you going back then, after the new year?"

"What?" Sirius gave him a surprised look. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Haven't you ever thought about leaving?" James asked, trying to sound as casual and disinterested as possible. "Especially after all that's happened?"

"Especially after…" Sirius trailed off, his mouth open. "You're thinking of leaving school? Of running away?"

"No!" James exclaimed, glancing around to be sure no one heard them. The pub was mostly empty, though, and two young men having a conversation in the corner wasn't likely to gather much attention anyway. "I'm not running away. You've already done that, and rather spectacularly, I might add, so there's no point in doing what's already been done."

Sirius pursed his lips and leaned forward. "But you don't want to go back to Hogwarts. Why?"

James was saved from answering when his food arrived. It was greasy and cold, and he'd almost rather be back at St. Mungo's for hospital food, but he was hungry so he choked it down. It gave him a chance to gather his thoughts a bit before Sirius assailed him again.

"You haven't answered yet, Prongs," Sirius said, leaning back with his arms across his chest. "Talk."

Setting down his napkin, James took a deep breath and sighed. "I don't want to go back, Sirius. That's all."

"Why?" Sirius asked again. "We've got half a year left. Why the hell would you give up now?"

James frowned. "I'm not giving up. I'm just not interested anymore."

"You're quitting," Sirius repeated, wagging his finger at James like his father. "And you've no reason to. Don't be a coward, Prongs—you're too much of a Gryffindor."

"What the hell do you know?" James snapped. "And so what if I'm thinking about leaving? Maybe there are better things to do than waste my time with schoolwork and Quidditch and Head Boy duties. Maybe some things are more important."

"Like what?" Sirius demanded. "Like loafing around while the rest of us finish our N.E.W.T.s? While the Gryffindor team scrambles for a new Chaser? While Dumbledore puts up that prat Robertson as Head Boy? Come on, James. This is our life right now. This is where you are supposed to be." He motioned at the castle, and James couldn't help but give it a guilty glance before turning back to his plate with a grunt. He knew it was true, but still felt like the best thing to do was leave it all behind.

"What about your dad?" asked Sirius. "He'd be disappointed. You can't do that to him, you—"

"I've already let him down," murmured James. "A dozen times: getting caught in Hogsmeade, losing to Slytherin, not being there when he got sick."

"Not being there?" Sirius stared at him incredulously. "You got there as soon as you could, and he's doing fine now. You can't be by his side every day, you know." He paused and made a face. "Is that why? You want to stay with your dad after what's happened? Because I sort of get that, but your dad—well, Harrington would hate it."

James just shrugged and picked at his food some more. He had let his father down and couldn't bear to do it again, couldn't bear to not be there if he really needed him…couldn't bear to lose him, not when he was all he had left. Maybe it was the shock of finding his dad so pale and weak in St. Mungo's; maybe it was being home for his first Christmas without his mum. Whatever it was, his family was too important to lose now, even if he had to sacrifice other things.

"What about Lily?" asked Sirius, changing direction. "How could you leave her after all you've been through? You haven't even had a proper dinner together, unless you count that awkward bit of roast we had in the room last night."

"I told you—she's better without me," James said. "I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"So you're going to play martyr and quit school? Hide out at home with your dad and sweep floors at the Ministry for a living?" Sirius shook his head. "Prongs, you were brilliant last week in Diagon Alley, but right now you are the thickest git I know."

James finished his drink. "I'm not being thick," he insisted as he motioned for another. "I'm being practical. My dad needs me. Lily doesn't. Maybe I'm just tired of school, of studying, of practicing, of docking points—everything. Why should I go back?"

"Why indeed?" replied a voice behind him that made them both go stock still. It sounded oddly like Professor Dumbledore, yet when they turned, the barman from the Hog's Head stood there, eyebrows raised as he held out a glass.

"Uh, thanks," James muttered, feeling strangely ridiculous and ashamed—as if the Headmaster himself had caught him contemplating the idea of leaving school.

"I didn't mean to overhear your conversation," growled the barman, "but I think your friend here is right."

James looked at Sirius, confused and amused at the same time. Sirius seemed to be trying to hold back a snort. They didn't come to the Hog's Head all that much, but the barman rarely seemed to talk to anyone whenever they had. He raised his eyebrows at their obvious discomfort. "May I join you, boys?" he asked as he helped himself to a chair. He turned it around and leaned on the back, studying them with piercing blue eyes.

"I've heard a lot about you two," he began. "And I know you're not going to quit school."

Once again, James just stared at Sirius, who smirked at the barman. "I'm not—he is." He hitched a thumb at James and grinned. "Talk some sense into him."

The barman grunted. "I should owl your dad, is what I should do. I don't think Harrington Potter would suffer the Head Boy quitting just to hold his hand in bed."

"How do you know my dad?" James demanded. "And why would he even believe you? You're just a…"

"A cracked old man in a dingy old pub?" The older man snorted. "I am that. But I'm also a damn good set of eyes and ears for a number of folks who know I don't lie." He paused and narrowed his eyes at James before grinning crookedly. "Maybe I should just give Albus a call instead, invite him down to knock some sense into you."

"Albus?" James repeated. "You mean Professor Dumbledore?" The barman merely nodded, his steely blue eyes still making James squirm.

"Professor Dumbledore comes down here for a pint?" asked Sirius skeptically. "I don't believe it. I've seen him at the Three Broomsticks, sipping brandy with Slughorn and Kettleburn."

"Albus comes here for information," the barman snapped. "Eyes and ears, that's what I am. Ever hear of the Order of the Phoenix?"

They nodded, and the barman harrumphed. "Well, then," he said, but didn't elaborate. They sat in awkward silence for a long moment. "So are you staying, then?" the barman asked abruptly.

James bristled. "It's none of your business, really."

"It's not," the barman agreed. "Only my brother has plans for you two, and right now I'm wondering why he's so interested, if you're just a bunch of thick-witted quitters."

Now Sirius took offense. "Look, you…"

"Dumbledore," said the barman, inclining his head with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Aberforth Dumbledore."

"Oh." That stopped Sirius cold. James would have laughed at the look on his friend's face if he weren't so offended.

"We're not quitting," James said. "At least, he's not. I might leave, but what's it to you?"

"Nothing." Aberforth shrugged. "Only I've seen enough of you kids come through here to know it's a big mistake."

"I can make my own decisions," James grumbled.

"Oh, most seventh-years think they can," Aberforth replied. "And most are wrong. So you had a hard term. N.E.W.T.s get the best of us, even my high and mighty brother. You're Head Boy and you play Quidditch. It's a lot." He stopped and gave James a skeptical look. "But it's not more than you can handle, and you've proven that twice now."

"I…I…" James stuttered inarticulately, somewhat stunned at how much this man—apparently Professor Dumbledore's brother—seemed to know about him.

"You want to protect your dad," the barman continued. "And you want to protect your girl. I get that. But running away is not the answer."

James took a deep breath and looked away, because he had no reply; he knew the barman was right, but he hated hearing it put so bluntly, and from a stranger, no less.

"Well, from what I've heard, all those things are bollocks anyway." James turned back to the barman in surprise. Aberforth nodded before continuing. "You're likely doing fine in your classes, you play a good game from the talk around here, and my brother wouldn't have given you your badge back if you weren't a decent Head Boy. Speaking from experience, I can tell you that you'll just end up a bit like me if you quit now." Aberforth gave Sirius his own sharp look. "And the same goes for you, Black. Don't follow this ponce, he'll just get you into more trouble than you've already got yourself into."

"He's my best mate," Sirius protested half-heartedly, ignoring the personal dig. "And you can't tell me what to do."

The barman snorted. "I can tell you, but hell if you'll do it. Listen to me. Quitting school to avoid your problems won't make them much better. And staying home will probably only make them worse." James frowned and looked up, opening his mouth to protest, but Aberforth cut him off. "You father would never support you staying home to protect him and you know that, Potter. You do him a disservice if you think he wants you there wiping his arse all day."

Beside him, Sirius was nodding in agreement. He had said something similar already, and James knew they were both right about his dad, but he couldn't stand the thought of not being there, next time…

"As for that girl." Aberforth rolled his eyes. "Love is a damned waste of time and effort as far as I'm concerned. But let me ask you this: what if you hadn't been there in Hogsmeade, in Diagon Alley, in St. Mungo's? Where would she be now?"

James was silent.

"Right. I think I've had my say." Aberforth stood and cleared their table. "Bit more blunt than Albus might have said it, and I'm afraid I don't do tea and biscuits, but hopefully you've got the point. Here's your bill."

He turned and left them staring after him, speechless. Sirius finally shook his head and threw some money on the table. James put down his share, and they headed toward the door. Aberforth Dumbledore gave them a curt, knowing nod as they left the pub. As soon as they stepped into the street, though, they turned to each other and burst out laughing.

"That was absolutely brilliant," Sirius crowed as they walked—where, neither of them knew, but they wandered the snowy streets laughing hysterically.

"It was surreal," James gasped in between laughs. "That has to be the strangest thing that's happened to me all week, and I went into someone's mind to wake them up."

Sirius sniggered as he slapped James across the back. "The really crazy thing is, the barmy old fool is right…and you know it."

"I know." James nodded ruefully, finally acknowledging it. "I hope he doesn't say anything to Professor Dumbledore, though. I already had one big conversation with him this year, I don't want another."

"Me neither," murmured Sirius, and James knew he was probably referring to his conversation with the headmaster about Arlienne. With another sigh, James changed the subject.

"Okay, so I'll go back. We can make it six months."

Sirius flung an arm around his shoulder. "Of course we can, Prongs. And then what?"

"No idea," James said. "I just want to survive the term. I mean that literally-and I'm not just talking about Death Eaters."

Sirius laughed in agreement. "You think Dumbledore is eyeing us for this Order of his?"

James gave him a thoughtful look. "You know what, maybe he is. We're seasoned veterans, after all."

"Think you'd join?" he continued. James could tell his friend was interested, even excited. He could see how the idea of fighting against something that had changed Sirius's life not once but twice now would appeal to him. Having been attacked himself, James could also sympathize. He nodded slowly.

"I think I could handle taking down Death Eaters for a living," he said. "Especially Avery—both of them."

Sirius laughed again as they continued down the street, reliving the battle in Diagon Alley. James began to relax, the tension he'd been holding in for days slowly draining. They browsed through Zonko's, still talking animatedly about the grizzled barman and their plans to join the Order of the Phoenix, and James tried not to fall back into his previous mindset.

Yet all too soon it grew dark, and it was time to start for home. James knew he would have to return to St. Mungo's eventually as well. He had left Lily, intending to never see her again, and she would certainly be angry at his abrupt exit. He had to set things right with her, before it was too late. At least they could be friends, or it would be a long six months until school was out.

End Notes:

Thank you, Lea/Mugglegirlmarauder! Your comments always make me laugh. Two chapters to go - thanks for reading! :)