AN: Wanted to get this up with the previous chapter quickly. I do not own HP. All mistakes are mine, and I'm afraid there may be more than usual on this one since it's long and I edited it a little less than I normally do. Enjoy and review please.

Chapter 9: Battle Tested

The next evening James lay in a bed at St. Mongo's. Visiting hours had just ended, and though his mother had attempted to stay the night with him, James and his father had managed to convince her to go home. Honestly, James was exhausted and his mother fussing over him constantly – though appreciated – would not allow him to get much rest. All day he had been poked and prodded, drank numerous potions, had several potions doused on his wound, and had spell after spell muttered over him. A young, pretty, petite girl, who James was a bit uncomfortable with seeing him with his shirt off, and a middle aged man had been at healing him all day. At first they were about as stumped as Pomphrey, and poured over the notes that she had sent with him. He was put through the wringer with questions. But by the end of the day – James didn't know how – the two made significant progress and his skin was nicely mended together. It was still a bit inflamed and tender, and he was being kept overnight for "observation," but the healers were happy with the results and stated if all went well, he would be going back to school the next day.

"And you said a student sent this curse?" The older healer had asked before they left.

James shrugged, "No one was ever caught. But I was at a school quidditch match when I got hit, yeah."

The man whistled and raised his eyebrows at his colleague, "This world is going to shit. But that kid who cast this is extremely talented."

The younger woman had given a noncommittal shrug, obviously uncomfortable discussing such matters in front of their patient. She was young, and still held the idealism of her job. She turned back to James, "I'll see you in the morning, Potter. It'll scar, but you should be good as new. Plus, girls love scars." And she smiled at him before walking out the door.

Her colleague had rolled his eyes at James's blush and followed her out.

James watched as the father of his sleeping six-year-old roommate kissed his son goodbye. Seeing as James was still sixteen, he was placed in the children's ward. The man looked up and smiled at James, "Would you tell him I'll be back in the morning and that I love him."

James nodded, "I'll keep an eye on him."

"Thank you." And the man grabbed his cloak and left, leaving James alone with the sleeping boy and the noises of the hospital.

The night grew later, and James rolled over in his bed once again, unable to sleep. He glanced his roommate's way and sighed. How could the kid sleep so soundly through all the muffled moans, yells, and crying that echoed through the halls? Not to mention a healer walked into their room every half hour to check on them. His primary healers had told him to rest, but he wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to do that in this environment.

As he lay restlessly staring at the ceiling, kneading his wound to see where it still hurt, he heard a different yelp than he had become accustomed to in these hallways. Startled, he sat up and grabbed his wand from under his pillow. He was underage, and wasn't quite sure he was allowed to have it on this floor, so instead of asking he had just kept it hidden. He heard another panicked yell and a crash from the hallway. Something was not right.

He quickly got out of bed, and threw the covers over it, so it looked somewhat made. He then went over to the young boy's bed and shook him from sleep. James shushed him, and the boy seemed to understand that something was wrong by just looking at his face and the wand in his hand. He threw the covers back over his bed also, and coaxed him under beside him. There lying on his stomach, James kept his eyes on the doorway, holding his breath, and trying to keep the panic in his chest from bursting.

He saw feet run by their room, but the next person to come by did not bypass, but rather stepped into their doorway. James put his head parallel with the floor and tried to see their visitor's face. It was covered in a mask that seemed to gleam in what little light the dim hallway provided. Dark wizards. He concentrated with everything he had on the stunning spell, and with a flash of red light the man fell over. Crawling out from under the bed, he conjured ropes which wrapped themselves around the man, and dragged him just inside the doorway, out of direct line of sight.

Crawling back under the bed, the young boy looked at him with wide scared eyes. James swallowed, knowing he would have to comfort this boy when he too was scared out of his wits.

"What's your name?" James whispered.

"Jeremey." The boy responded quietly.

"Jeremey," James repeated, "My name is James. Your Dad told me that he would be back in the morning and that he loves you." He needed this boy to trust him, to listen to him if he was going to keep him safe.

Jeremey nodded at him, his eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, Jeremey it's going to be okay. I go to Hogwarts, have you heard of it?"

He nodded and gasped, "Yeah." As tears began to spill from his eyes.

"I'm in Gryffindor, house of the brave. Just like Dumbledore. Do you know Dumbledore?"

The boy nodded again.

"And I need you to be a Gryffindor tonight too, Jeremey. An honorary Gryffindor. You can do that for me, can't you?"

"Yeah," Jeremey whispered, "My Dad was a Gryffindor."

"Then this should be easy, it's in your blood," James smiled at him, before glancing back at the door way. It had been quiet the past few minutes. He knew he could continue to crouch with Jeremey, but something was compelling him to move. To act, and to help, and to stop whatever was happening. He took a deep breath, "Jeremy I need you to stay here. I'm going to go get help. I need you to stay under this bed, no matter what. To stay quiet. To be brave. You stay here and you do not come out until you see a healer in green robes, okay?"

Jeremey nodded, tears running silently down his face. James smiled and nodded back at him before rolling out from under the bed and crawling back over to his own. He shuffled through the small bag he had brought with him until he pulled out a small mirror.

"Sirius Black." He whispered into the two way mirror. He waited a moment and franticly whispered, "Sirius Black!" again, and before he could finish his name a second time, his sleepy best friend's face appeared in the mirror.

"Prongs? What's up, you miss me?" Sirius grinned, but in less than a second of taking in James's features he quickly sobered up.

"Sirius, listen to me." James stated, and he saw Sirius instantly awaken as he sat up in bed, "You have to get Dumbledore and send him down here. Something is going on. Like an attack or something!"

"James, what happened?"

"I don't know. I heard some load noises. And I stunned one of those masked men – what is it the Prophet's calling them? Death Eaters? And – " James cut himself off and looked up when he heard a loud bang in the distance, "Just send Dumbledore, and hurry!"

James pocketed the mirror, and turned back to the stunned man in the corner of the room and Jeremey, peaking at him from under the bed. James grabbed one of his Gryffindor quidditch t-shirts that had fallen from his bag, and crouched down beside the bed.

"Jeremey, here. You're a Gryffindor, remember? Now stay here." And he watched as the boy grabbed the shirt from him and fisted it close to his face.

James rose, taking a deep breath he turned to the masked man he had stunned. He aimed another stunning spell at him, turned to the bed that held Jeremy under it and cast a discrete shield charm, then levitated the man out of the room. The hallway was deserted, and James heard loud noises from below him, the fight must have been raging a few floors down. He sent any stray children back to their rooms, advising them to get under their beds. And in the stairwell he cast all the protective charms he could think of on the doorway, and let the Death Eater he had been levitating thump to the floor and tumble down the stairs.

Sirius jumped out of bed, startling Remus from his own sleep. "What's going on?" He groggily asked, looking over and rubbing his eye.

"James just mirrored! St. Mongo's in under attack or something. I have to tell Dumbledore." He stated quickly, running out of the door without shoes or proper clothing and thundering down the stairs.

Lupin caught up with him as he ran down the corridor, the Fat Lady calling after both of them.

"Is Prongs okay?" he asked.

"For now," Sirius responded, skidding as they took a sharp turn and ran up another staircase.

"Do you think it's the same people behind the attack at that muggle train station around Christmas?"

"Moony, I don't know and at the moment, and I really don't care. We just need to get Dumbledore!"

Moments later, the two boys appeared in front of the stone gargoyle guarding their Headmaster's office, and both realized they did not have the password.

"Let us in, this is an emergency!" Sirius yelled at it, frantically waving his hands like the motion might provoke the statue to move. Nothing happened, and so he kicked the base, "Come on! This isn't a bloody good time for this!" Still nothing. He turned back to his friend angrily, "Remus! Do something!"

Remus stood silently as though in thought before pulling out his wand and firing spell after spell at walls and suits of armor alike.

Sirius jumped back shocked, "What the bloody hell are you doing? You're going to wake up the whole castle!"

"That's the idea!" Remus responded, making an ungodly loud clatter as a suit of armor burst apart.

The ruckus worked, and Dumbledore appeared from behind the gargoyle fully dressed, and wand at the ready. Exhaling in relief when he saw his students he untensed his wand arm and calmly stated, "Mr. Lupin, this castle is drafty enough. We don't need any more holes in the walls"

"Sorry, Professor. It's just we didn't know your password and –"

Sirius cut off Remus loudly, "St. Mongo's is being attacked! James just mirrored me. Said he heard loud noises and stunned some masked man or something. He said to send help!"

Dumbledore's face turned grave, unconcerned with how his two students were instantly communicating, "You're sure?"

"Yes, sir."

And Dumbledore was in motion, briskly walking toward the castle exit with the two boys in tow. "I'll take care of it. Now please, try and stay calm. We don't need a panic. Tell Professor McGonagall that I have left to deal with this."

"Yes, sir." Remus said, pulling Sirius with him back towards their head of house's quarters.

James thundered down staircase after staircase, spells he learned in Defense class racing through his mind. He went to swing himself around the next corner, when suddenly he found himself jerked backward. Rolling off the man he had just fallen back upon, he pulled his wand to aim it as his attacker and felt a spell whiz by where his body had just been upright in the open.

His assailant gruffly yelled "Point that somewhere else! I just saved your life," and shoved the younger man's wand downwards.

James scooted back against the wall, and surveyed the man who was apparently his savior. He was middle aged, probably over sixty – but it was always hard to tell with wizards. He had red hair peppered with gray, a lined face, and one of his arms wouldn't sit normally at his side but rather swung about as if he had no control over it. As a matter of fact, he definitely had no control, and James had to duck as it swung his way.

"Mind the arm." He stated dryly, "Damned neighbor threw a nasty curse at me after I blew the cauldrons in his front garden to smitherings. They were an eye sore. The name is, Jones. You?"

"Potter." James stated with an out of breath huff, "Thanks."

He then noticed the sickly looking young man beside them. He was pale and looked run ragged, with some deep bruises and a few open scratches across his face and neck. James would recognize those scratch marks from anywhere – one of his best friends tended to give himself the same injuries and sometimes accidentally struck James himself.

Just then James noticed that Jones had asked him something. "What?" he asked dumbly, breaking his eyes away from the newly marked werewolf.

"I said, what are you in for? Are you able bodied to fight these bastards?"

"Cursed wound wouldn't heal. Yeah, I'm able."

"You of age?" He asked, surveying him up and down as if he was just noticing his bony structure and patchy scruff.

"I'm able." James repeated, gripping his wand.

The man shrugged and nodded at the other man accompanying them, "This one won't tell me what he's in for."

The worn man gave them both a hard stare, "I'm able."

James nodded, "I believe him."

Jones shrugged again, his arm flailing wildly, "I guess we'll have to. Well, we're not doing anyone any good hauled up in the staircase. Here's the plan, I'll dive across the landing here, draw our friend's fire, and you two come around the corner and take him out."

He didn't wait for a response, and instead threw himself into the staircase sending James and the other man scrabbling after him. Spells were blasted towards Jones, and James threw some stunning spells around the corner himself along with whatever the werewolf was firing. The masked man fell over, leaving the stairwell eerily quiet.

"Bravo my men, bravo." Jones replied, straightening up and grinning at them. And if it wasn't such a tense situation, James may have laughed as the man's arm swung and hit himself in the face. Next thing he knew, he found himself taking the stairs two at a time with his new companions.

Jones didn't hesitate as they made their way down the final staircase, the sound of a mass duel growing louder and louder in their already thundering ears, and he pushed through the doorway into the lobby without a look back.

But the werewolf grabbed James's arm before he could burst through himself and stated, "I know you're not of age. You don't have to do this. You shouldn't."

"I'm close to seventeen. Just a few months. And what does a number have to do with it anyway? Nothing changes. This is my fight too."

The young man couldn't have been too much older than James and he rolled his eyes, "Then be careful."

As they moved forward James addressed him, having figured out the other man's secret too. "I know what you are," James said watching his head snap back to him. "I have a friend the same as you. Not everyone is against you."

The young man laughed bitterly, "Well I guess it's time I proved to myself there's still some good in me." And he pushed open the door into complete chaos.

There were masked man throughout the lobby, engaged with healers in green robes, the supporting staff in blue robes, and able bodied patients in their sleepwear. James stumbled and looked down to see he had just tripped over a body. But before he could think much of it he sent a shield charm in front of an exposed healer who was dueling three death eaters at once and then James quickly found himself firing spell after spell.

He sprinted toward an upended greeter's desk and used it as a barrier as spells flew across the room. There were a few flashes of green in the mass of enchantments, causing the boy to shiver. And after primarily focusing on helping others, before long James was engaged in his own duel. He was holding his own fairly well against the adult masked figure. Casting shields and stunners and trying to sneak in a disarming spell. Eventually a stray spell, not from his opponent, clipped James and sent him spinning backwards.

He hit the ground hard, knocking the wind from his lungs. As he coughed and realized he had luckily kept hold of his wand, he felt a shield charm cast in front of him, rebounding an oncoming spell. And he looked up into the face of the werewolf, who reached down and pulled the underage wizard to his feet.

"Up you get, Potter." And he patted him on the back before running back into the fray. James too took no time to recover, and went back to fighting.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he had taken out three Death Eaters and was now taking cover behind a marble pillar as shards of it blasted around him. He thought St. Mongo's staff and patients were fending pretty well considering the attack of a small army. But there was a tall, slim, pale man who James saw across the lobby firing a lot of green colored spells or making people scream in agony.

Then all of sudden there were loud cracks and Ministry Aurors in black robes were filling the lobby. He saw Dumbledore too appear in robes of deep purple and James almost sighed in relief. Sirius had saved him. Again. He spun out from behind his pillar and sent a stunning spell at a Death Eater who was trying to flee.

James was attempting to work his way across the room to Dumbledore. He didn't think the small battle raging in the lobby could have gotten any more chaotic, but he was dead wrong. Since the Aurors had arrived, they were vigorously struggling to capture anyone they could while the Death Eaters were still trying to cause as much damage as possible before attempting to flee.

James dodged a spell by ducking and rolling, and arose locking eyes with Albus Dumbledore himself. He saw the old man almost sigh with relief as he moved purposefully toward the boy, and then he thought he saw a flash of worry and rage just before James was in the most pain he had ever felt in his life.

James screamed in anguish, every inch, every cell in his being, experiencing complete agony. He felt as though it went on forever and yet maybe lasted only half a second – there was no concept of time while he was under the spell but it didn't quite matter, all he knew was pain. It abruptly seized, and James crumpled to the floor, heaving to catch his breath. He glanced up through his bangs to see the pale young man he had seen across the room earlier, but his face seemed a little distorted and he almost didn't look fully human.

"Dumbledore's man, I see," the man said to him, "that is very dangerous. Curcio."

And the pain began again. Though he had just experienced it, it was nothing you could prepare yourself for and the memory of his first bout with the torturing curse didn't even come close to experiencing the second.

And once again, having no concept of time, all James knew was that suddenly the pain ended. And he thought he heard Dumbledore yell something with the name Tom, before James passed out.

James came to as he was being poked and prodded.

"Everything seems to be in order, Professor. The wound on his chest is mending nicely and other than a few bumps and bruises, he's fine."

"Thank you, Sarah. You seem to have made a great Healer, just as I knew you would. I wish I could have seen you work under better circumstances. And you're alright yourself?"

"As much as I can be, sir. Thank you. And thank you for ending this." The young girl responded as she moved on.

James groaned as he opened his eyes, feeling the cold, hard floor beneath him and the remnants of the cruciatus curse on his body.

"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore greeted, helping him sit up, "how do you feel?"

"Horrible," James responded, ruffling his hair with one hand, the other wrapping around his middle.

Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "Yes, I would expect so. Firstly, I need to thank you for setting the alarm to get the Aurors here and for fighting valiantly. And secondly, I need to reprimand you for fighting. You're underage, James. You should have stayed in your room."

Those words caused James to jerk as he attempted to stand up too quickly for his worn body.

"Jeremey. Where's Jeremey?"

"Who's Jeremey, James?" Dumbledore responded calmly, straightening the boy.

"Is he alright? I told his Dad I would keep an eye on him. I told him to be brave. I have to go find him." His eyes were franticly scanning the room, attempting to look past Dumbledore as he was still trying to get up.

"James."

The young man continued to struggle and only stopped when Dumbledore raised his voice and sharply said again, "James!"

His hazel eyes met the blue wise ones, and he stilled.

"James, everyone is being taken care of. You're done, Mr. Potter. I'm proud of you. You've done more than enough. You're done."

James broke eye contact and nodded.

"Do you feel alright, Potter?" Dumbledore asked gently.

James nodded again.

"Then let's get the paperwork sorted out and get you back to Hogwarts. I think you may appreciate your own bed and some friendly faces?"

James nodded again, "Please, Professor."

Sirius and Remus had stayed up all night, accompanied by Peter who had been waiting in the common room when the two had returned. They had not told Taylor or the other girls until the early morning when she had come down the staircase, allowing her to get a night of rest that the boys had been robbed of. Now the sixth years sat at the Gryffindor table, silently waiting for news.

By breakfast, the whole school had known about the attack. It had headlined The Daily Prophet, but seeing as the news had probably broken just before the papers were sent, no details were being reported as of yet. But that didn't stop the students from talking about it nonstop. Before the plates of bacon had even cooled, someone's uncle's cousin had been on scene and had reported fifteen dead and fifty injured.

Not only was the rumor mill worrying James's friends, but also the many with family either working at St. Mongo's, being treated there, or the family members of Aurors. The Great Hall was filled with whispers when McGonagall stood at the head table and announced that morning classes were canceled.

"Let's get out of here," Joey stated, loosening her tie as she stood, "Get some fresh air."

The Marauders minus one, along with Matt, Taylor, and Lily followed her, all eyes in the hall trailing them. It was no secret that James had been at St. Mongo's the night before.

"Any news?" Sirius asked Professor Flitwick as they passed him in the entrance hall.

"Nothing," the professor responded, scanning the Prophet as he walked by.

Sirius sighed and continued on, until a voice called after him.

"What are you going to do without Potter glued to you hip? You probably won't be able to perform the simplest of spells without your two brilliant minds to work it out together." The voice sneered, and Sirius spun around to be faced with Severus Snape.

"Why don't you shut your mouth, Snivellus. Or I'll shut it for you." Sirius snapped, his hand twitching toward his wand.

"Like I said, Black, I would love to see you try that alone."

Snape was clearly baiting Sirius, and Lily stepped in as the latter moved to grab his wand from inside his robes.

"Sirius, no. Stop. He's not worth it." Lily said, grabbing his arm and forcing the boy to meet her eyes. "Let's go outside and wait for Dumbledore and James. It shouldn't be long now."

Sirius looked past Lily, but she continued to stare him down. And after a moment of hesitation, Sirius huffed and walked out the large oak doors.

Lily moved to follow, but was stopped by more biting words.

"Protecting Black, now? Waiting for Potter? Boy, have you sunken low."

Lily gave her old friend an icy stare, "Not as low as you."

"What's Potter to you, anyway?" Snape spat.

"What do you care? What do you care about me? Aren't I just a mudblood?"

Snape just stared back coldly.

Lily turned her back on Snape to follow the others. Remus was the only one hanging back with her, watching the heated exchange, and said over her shoulder as she walked towards him, "He's a good person, Severus."

"I hope he's dead," he said, barley loud enough for her to hear.

Lily's steps faltered a moment, but she walked on. Though she was once friends with Severus, they had chosen separate paths and she had to continue on her own. His words had stung. James had become a friend. A good friend, despite her past beliefs. And there was nothing more that she wished for than to see him walk through the grounds with Dumbledore at this moment, safe and whole.

When Lily approached, Remus draped his arm around Lily's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. They said nothing, and caught up with the others who were now sitting on the entrance steps.

"Why didn't you let me have a go at him? I could have killed him," Sirius said with less vigor than normal.

"Exactly." Lily responded dryly, taking a seat of her own. They sat silently, until they saw two figures crest the hill in the distance.

Dumbledore had gone against his better judgment, and had taken James back to the school with him. He would have liked for his student to have stayed the night to make sure everything was in working order, but James had been cleared by his former student who was now and healer, and the hospital clearly had their hands full. Plus, he thought the boy may mentally break down if he had to spend another night there – he had been through too much already and Dumbledore had now exposed him to far greater dangers than he was comfortable with. He was not expecting Tom to act out against him, and he felt lucky that James had not been killed. The head master watched intently while James walked slowly from Hogsmeade to the school, each step clearly weighing on him. He was exhausted from his body in over drive healing his chest, losing a night's sleep, fighting in a battle, and having the Cruciatus curse cast upon him.

As the castle began to tower over the pair, they were greeted by a mass of red and gold. A streak of auburn was in the lead, and Lily crashed into James's chest, pulling him into a hug. Caught off guard and exhausted, James stumbled back a few steps. But as she squeezed him tightly, he felt the tension that had been filling his body and mind begin to relax. After a long moment, and zero words, Lily pulled back and Sirius stepped forward.

"You okay, Prongs?" He asked worriedly.

"Fine," James grinned back. And Sirius pulled him into a hug, with no shame of anyone watching.

"I guess I owe you a thank you for sounding the alarms. Could have been a little quicker though." James laughed while he patted his back.

"Shut up." Sirius responded, shoving him away. And the two friends smiled at each other while Remus too pulled him into a hug. And though James was trying to lighten the mood, he couldn't be more grateful for his friends. And he knew they, like him, had had a rough night.

Suddenly Dumbledore spoke up, "I didn't know that we would be sent escorts, but I'm glad to make such a grand entrance." He grinned as his students looked at him a bit embarrassed. They had clearly forgotten he too was there. "Now can we please keep moving, I myself am looking forward to a late breakfast."