Vengeful Thoughts

A/N: From this point on, more and more chapters will be from the point of view of someone other than Cedrella and Septimus Weasley. You'll still get chapters from their point of view, but as James and company are now almost adults, more of the action will take place around them when they're not in Cedrella and Septimus' company.

(_)(_)(_)

May 1977

The family funeral of Charlus and Dorea Potter took place a week after their deaths. Funerals, like weddings, were private affairs. Grief was not, in the wizarding world, something put on display in the company of others unless there was no other choice.

Every House had, somewhere, a family burial plot or crypt. This site or building also included a small ritual circle. Aside from funerals, these ritual circles were used – though not by all Families or even all members of any one Family – on Samhain.

The exact rituals themselves varied hugely. No two Families conducted funeral rites or Samhain observances in the same way. That said, the ritual circles all had one thing in common. They were carved into the most durable and purest white stone – usually granite or marble – that could be found or purchased at the time the circle was created.

The color white had links to birth, death, and purity. Funeral rites most frequently focused on purifying the soul of the departed, grieving the loss, and a hope (or outright belief) that the soul so recently lost would someday be reborn.

The passing of a person could be marked by a funeral ritual performed by anyone that knew them at any point after the person's death. They had simply to go to their Family circle and do whatever rites they felt appropriate.

The rites performed by close blood family, on the other hand, were a bit more involved, and commonly had some aspect of all three of the main purposes of a funeral rite included. The funeral rites performed by others – especially those more distantly acquainted with the departed – generally only contained the grieving the loss portion and perhaps the purifying the soul part in the form of a wish for safe passage to the land of the dead.

Because of all this … James had to perform the funeral ritual for his parents alone. It was, maybe, a good thing. He had been rather a bit numb the last week, too stunned by the suddenness of the loss and the weight of the Potter Family magic landing solidly – and solely – on his shoulders to do or be or even think anything else. He'd also not been alone for even a minute all week. Sirius, Regulus, Remus, Severus and Lily had rotated watches.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, James had appreciated Severus' silence and understanding more than the rest. Oh, the others tried, and they were a comfort, but … they didn't, couldn't, understand the loss James had suffered. Severus, having had to deal with the death of his mother, understood better than the others possibly could.

But now, alone in the family crypt, the horrified shock was finally fading. And on its heels came a towering, vengeful wrath. James was, after all, half Black by blood. It ought to surprise exactly no one that having his parents murdered would wake a dragon.

So it was perhaps a good thing there was no one to bear witness to – and be scared spitless of – the angry, writhing pulses of magic that was escaping James' efforts to control both his magic and his rising temper enough to complete the rites the way they rightfully should be done.

It took a while, but eventually he succeeded. And when the rites were done and the magic of the circle had faded, James stood there for a moment and silently vowed that whatever it took, the man ultimately responsible for his parents' deaths was going to pay dearly for it.

Severus and Lily were waiting for him just beyond the edge of the family burial grounds. James and Severus locked eyes almost the instant they came in view of each other. Severus' expression flickered so briefly James almost missed it before Severus gave a brief, almost imperceptible nod.

Oh yes. Severus understood better than the others could. Both the pain of losing a parent, and the burning need to avenge that death. James had little doubt that once he was of age and able to hunt Tobias down without the Longbottoms or Weasleys getting involved, there would be an accounting between Severus and his much-loathed father. Tobias wasn't going to enjoy that encounter at all. Because while Eileen may have ultimately died of something completely unrelated to Tobias' abuse, said abuse had doubtlessly hastened her demise.

For the moment, he let the far-more effusive Lily all but strangle him in a hug. Lily and Severus' friendship had never ceased to amuse James, as the two were as different as night and day. Severus was taciturn and somber and more than a little wary and withdrawn – all understandable given what he'd apparently survived prior to coming to Hogwarts.

James still considered befriending the rattily-clad and rather woebegone boy Severus had been back then the best day's work of his life to date. He didn't even want to think about the could-have-beens otherwise.

Lily, on the other hand, was gregarious, vivacious and more than a bit of a chatterbox, especially when excited or stressed. About the only thing the two of them had in common was formidable tempers. That and their unshakable loyalty to each other. James figured they'd both burn the world to cinders if the other was endangered.

More than once in the last year or so, James had wondered if the two of them would not become romantically involved. But no, neither of them seemed to even consider the other an option in that regard. Which, really, was lucky for him. James had been finding himself more and more drawn to Lily in the last year. He hadn't quite worked up the nerve to ask her out before his parents' death. Maybe in a couple months, if he could think of something other than bathing in Voldemort's blood by then.

In the meantime, if he could get Severus alone, the two of them would have a bit of a conference. That, unfortunately, was probably going to have to wait. His friends were understandably concerned with his welfare and unwilling to let him think himself alone. Not a thought that would normally occur to him – not after being friends with Sirius and Regulus most of their lives and the others since the start of Hogwarts, but grief wasn't known for being sensible.

James was a Gryffindor through and through. But Severus? Oh, Severus was every bit the viper he could have, should have been if Slytherin House wasn't up to its eyeballs in pureblood fanatics. He'd had more and better ideas than, say, force-collapsing wards and storming into Voldemort's lair to hex the bastard into oblivion. Because right now that was about all James' mind was giving him.

The good news was that while some of the adults might not wholly approve of James getting his hands bloody, not a one of them would seriously consider stopping him. If he read Uncle Septimus right, he'd actually help James, if James asked. And there might come a time when James did.

Of course, neither he nor Uncle Harfang (not to mention their wives) were going to sit back and let James' parents' deaths go unpunished. They wouldn't have even if the Alliance hadn't been a factor. James had heard the stories – both from his parents and his aunts and uncles. His favorite version, though, was the one Jinx told.

Speaking of another being that hadn't let him alone for even a moment. James had been forced to resort to ordering Jinx to get the amount of sleep he needed to operate at full capacity. The little guy, pissed as hell and completely ashamed at 'failing' James' parents, was bound and determined that absolutely nothing and no one that even dreamed of being a threat would get anywhere near James. After, that was, he got over his fear that James would blame him for their deaths. James had nearly rolled his eyes into another country when he'd realized that. As if he would ever do such a thing! He'd given Jinx a very light, playful swat to the head and told him that was his punishment, now quit being an idiot. And then he'd had the elf shadowing his every move.

Also, speaking of another that would both understand and help with his desire for vengeance. James didn't think there was another house elf alive as bloodthirsty and determined as Jinx when it came to protecting his bound Family – or his chosen one. The latter being, insofar as James knew, a unique phenomenon. House elves could be made to serve someone not of their bound family, but a house elf choosing, of their own free will, to serve another? Yeah, unheard of. And yet there was Jinx, who didn't hesitate to serve the Weasleys or the Longbottoms and even obeyed their orders slash requests far more often than not.

James wouldn't even have to say anything. Jinx would probably anticipate him and … yeah. They'd have a conference later tonight, after everyone else had finally gone to sleep.

Killing Charlus and Dorea Potter? Stupidest damn thing the insane moron had ever done, on so many levels it boggled James' mind. Because really. Dumbledore aside, James' parents had been popular and well thought of. A lot of people would be pissed just on the strength of that. That some complete and utter moron had had the temerity to breach an Alliance? That was going over like a tamed nundu. Add in pissing off Family Black. James was willing to bet that not a few people were settling in to watch the show as someone got their just deserts in fine fashion with a certain perverse pleasure.

If it had been anyone else that had been killed that had the same circumstances, James knew he'dve been doing the same thing. He'd heard Lily calling such overwhelmingly but entertainingly bad situations a 'train wreck' at one point early in their acquaintance. Having spent enough time in the muggle world now to understand what she'd meant, he agreed with the sentiment.

The rest of the young Marauders joined them as they walked into Potter Castle. James suppressed a shudder. As much as the place had seemed enormous but homey when his parents had been alive, it seemed like an enormous, echoing cave right now. Thank heavens the Weasleys and Longbottoms both had made it crystal clear he'd be staying with them, emancipation and Lordship be damned. James didn't think he'd be able to handle staying here with only house elves for company.

All but James and Sirius flooed to Weasley Cottage once they'd assured themselves that James was holding up. James had one last task before leaving. To close the Castle until he finally felt able to live there again. Fortunately, that task was a brief one. The two of them walked to the ward border and the activation stone just beyond the ward border. The activation stone could only be used by a Potter by blood, and could only be used to raise and lower a very limited set of wards. To whit, the ones that put the Castle in stasis when the Family did not intend to inhabit the Castle for a prolonged period.

That done, the pair of boys who were very rapidly becoming men used the portkey Sirius had gotten from Septimus for just this purpose.

Late that night, hours after everyone fell asleep, James roused himself from his doze and sat up.

"Jinx."

"Master?" Jinx asked as he popped in.

James patted his bed. "We need to talk, Jinx."

Jinx shifted uneasily, but gamely clambered onto the bed and sat down, expression one of curiosity.

"I know the man who actually cast the curse is dead." James said.

That one had been kind of hard to miss, what with everyone and Merlin's pet dog reacting to what Septimus and Harfang had done with the body when Callidora and Cedrella had gotten done with it. James had zero illusions about who, in the family, to be afraid of. For all Septimus cut an intimidating figure and was, admittedly, a formidable foe in a fight, he wasn't a patch on his wife. Callidora made Harfang look like a newborn kitten in comparison. The sisters collaborating? That was the stuff of nightmares for anyone with sense.

"But you and I both know the man actually responsible isn't." James continued.

Jinx scowled. "No. Is not." He agreed.

"You are not, under any circumstances, Jinx, to risk your own death." James said firmly. "I refuse to lose anyone else to that asshole. But I want you to find them. I want you to learn everything you can about them."

He growled. "Just killing them isn't enough, Jinx. I want to destroy them, and make sure no one is ever stupid enough to follow in this bastard's footsteps. I know the adults have been doing everything they can to make him writhe, but … "

"Is not enough." Jinx said, his tone one of total agreement. "I will do. I not lets Master and Mistress be killed and not makes them … makes him … pay for it."

"Just be careful." James reiterated. "They adored you. They'd never forgive me if I got you killed avenging them. I'd never forgive myself."

That he was excessively fond of Jinx did not need to be said. House elves could tell how their master or mistress felt about them. It was part of what allowed them to serve. Knowing when you'd pleased or pissed off the person you served was vital. It worked like a feedback loop, at least in the Families that didn't consider house elves to be lower than dirt. The happier the master or mistress, the happier the elf, and the greater efforts they went to to care for their master/mistress. The better they cared for their master/mistress, the more that person cared about the elf and their welfare.

"I not die. I gots to take care of Master James, I does. Nobody else do it right if I doesn't." Jinx said.

James almost laughed. That refrain had been a near-constant in the Castle, with the other Potter elves. Ever since Jinx had gone to war with his parents during the Grindlewald War, he'd made it plain that no other elf, Potter-bonded or not, was capable of caring for Charlus and Dorea properly.

Apparently, there'd been more than one squabble amongst the elves in the early days over his attitude. These days, the others were used to it and mostly ignored it.