James tugged at the stiff collar of his dress robes for what felt like the hundredth time today. It was the last weekend of the Easter holidays and he was attending the annual St. Mungo's fundraiser. These kind of the events were very popular among the pure-bloods as they gave them opportunity to show off their enormous generosity. James knew of course that most pure bloods were anything but generous. Instead, they used this as an opportunity to improve their status and power. Being a known supporter of St. Mungo's opened many doors in the wizarding world and most important politicians also attended this fundraiser. It was a great event to rub shoulders with most of the important members of society. Naturally, James hated it. While he was quite adept at faking polite smiles and making small talk about nothing at all, it bored him to tears. He would rather spend some time with his friends, but his parents had insisted that he made an appearance. His father had stressed that James was a fully grown man by now and needed to form connections with the rest of the establishment. James had pointed out that he was already well known around the wizarding world, but his father had insisted that having a famous name was not enough. So, after much grumbling, James had agreed to come home for the holidays and attend that stupid event. Sirius had joined him in the Potter household, naturally without informing his parents, but he would not be joining them tonight. The risk of running into his parents was way too high. However, James still had hope that the Black's would not be here today. Every year, the healers chose a different theme for the fundraiser. Usually, they were quite boring. Last year's for example had been all about treating sick children, but this year's theme was very interesting indeed. St. Mungo's wanted to generate funds to improve the treatment of all victims of the growing conflict between Voldemort and the rest of the wizarding world. Naturally, this was a very sensitive topic and many purebloods had expressed their disappointment at the Hospital taking any sides in that conflict. James knew that the Blacks agreed with the Death Eaters so maybe they had decided to boycott tonight's event. Despite that controversy, the spacious ball room was packed. As usual, the elite of the wizarding world was not afraid to spend money.

The organizer of the event knew that most of their potential benefactors had an expensive taste. So they had gone out of their way to make the even memorable. Rather than holding it in the hospital, they had rented a grand ballroom in the 'The Golden Phoenix', London's most exclusive wizarding hotel. While most wizards chose the Leaky Cauldron whenever they wanted to spend some time in London, The Golden Phoenix catered to the more affluent crowd and specialized in wizarding conferences of all kinds. It was the second time James was here, the first time having been the potion contest ceremony back in December, and the grand room was even more spectacular than it had been back then. Clearly, the organizers were highly interested in making the event as special as possible. They had even hired the popular band 'The Wood Nymphs' to provide the appropriate music. James suspected that many of the traditional pure-bloods had only decided to attend so that they could have a close look at the splendour. He had to admit that St. Mungo's knew how to advertise an event. They had created both a controversy and an incentive to show up and judging from the dense crowd, their strategy had been successful. If only these events would be more entertaining! He glanced at his parents, who were still standing a few feet away and were locked in deep conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Prewett, and decided to get a drink. He walked over to the bar and snatched one of the champagne flutes standing on the nearest table. He handed the waiter a few sickles and wandered off. He tugged at his collar again. The dress robe was dark red and had been bought only a few days ago. He regretted choosing it instead of one of his older ones. These new tight collars might be fashionable, but they were bloody uncomfortable.

'Hey James, over here,' said a familiar voice. James turned around and spotted Kingsley Shacklebolt, wearing a bright yellow dress robe which contrasted starkly with his dark skin. He was accompanied by his parents and seemed rather happy to see James. They did not spent much time together at school, but at these type of events, he was happy to see everyone close to his age. Kingsley was two years younger than him and a Hufflepuff. He played Beater on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team which was how the two of them knew each other. Kingsley was a decent player and very fair when playing Quidditch. He had caught James after having knocked him off his broom with a Bludger last year. James was not going to forget that kind gesture. He knew that most other enemy players would have let him fall.

'Kingsley, good to see you,' said James, shaking his hand. 'Mr. Shacklebolt, Mrs. Shacklebolt, it is a pleasure to meet you.'

He kissed Mrs. Shacklebolt's hand and shook Mr. Shacklebolt's one.

'You are Richard Potter's son, are you not?' said Mr. Shacklebolt. He was a tall and rather muscular man with a shaved head and the same ebony skin tone as his son.

'I am,' said James. 'My parents are over there.'

'It is a pleasure to meet you, James,' said Mrs. Shacklebolt. She was slim and rather pretty with dark and perfectly flat hair. James suspected that she had applied quite a lot of potions and beauty charms to tame her hair. Her son's was a mess of black curls after all, which seems even more impossible to manage than James's own. 'I did not know that you were of age already.'

James was confused for a moment by that statement, but then she noticed her pointing at the glass of champagne in his hand.

'Oh,' he said. 'Actually, I turned seventeen in March. But I reckon I could have gotten the champagne even if I still was underage. Nobody asked me about my age when I got it.'

'Wicked,' said Kingsley. 'Do you think I could get some myself?'

'You will do no such thing, Kingsley,' said his father sternly. 'I was told that you were a bit of a troublemaker, James.'

'You should not believe everything you hear,' said James with a smile on his face. Kingsley snorted. 'It is true that sometimes strange things happen at Hogwarts while I attend the school, but that hardly makes me responsible. Innocent until proven guilty, am I right?'

'Well, if you were caught for everything you do, you would spend the whole year in detention,' said Kingsley happily. 'I loved the ice lake in the entrance hall, though. I have never tried ice skating before, but it was a lot of fun.'

'Well, Kingsley, I am glad you enjoyed it, but you should know that I have had nothing to do with that,' said James with a grin on his face. 'McGonagall tried to stick it to me but was unable to prove anything. I am officially innocent.'

'Sure, you are,' said Kingsley, rolling his eyes again.

'Do you parent's plan to donate anything, James?' asked Mr. Shacklebolt. James hesitated for a moment before answering. In the current situation, that was a rather loaded question. Nobody close to the Death Eaters would even consider donating money to the hospital when it openly opposed Voldemort. So, donating some money also meant positioning himself in the brewing civil war. However, not giving anything also send a signal and James doubted that all blood purists were ready to openly declare their support for Voldemort's cause. After all, the Ministry was still firmly opposing the Death Eater threat and everyone bold or foolish enough to openly support these terrorists was bound to be investigated by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. James's parents had argued about whether they should attend the fundraiser. His mother had strongly argued for it, while his father had been undecided. He was still busy trying to mask the family's true allegiance. In the end, he had agreed to attend, because it would be too suspicious for his family to suddenly stop giving money to St. Mungo's which they had done for almost twenty year's now. However, they had decided to only make a small donation today, to make it appear like they did not agree with the current policy and donate a larger amount anonymously at a later point in time.

'Yes,' said James. 'I am not sure how much actually. My parents did not discuss the issue with me.'

'Well, they certainly should have,' said Mr. Shacklebolt. 'You are their only heir and off age. They should prepare you for being head of a pure-blood family. Just wearing the heritage ring is not enough.'

James glanced at the ring on his finger. He had started to wear it every day so by now he hardly noticed it anymore. However, whenever he consciously looked at it, he still felt rather caged. The ring was a reminder of everything which was expected from him and he did not like it one bit. His natural disregard for rules was not just limited to school rules. He hated that people expected him to behave in a certain way just because he was the heir of an old pure-blood family. He knew that social conventions could not be negotiated and that it would be foolish to rebel against a privileged life, but sometimes he just felt like leaving it all behind. Sometimes he envied the Muggleborns. They were blank sheets and could do whatever they wanted to do with their life in the wizarding world without any expectations. He knew that he was being overly romantic regarding the situation of the Muggleborns and that his rebellion was just a pipe dream, but situations like today brought it back again and again.

'My father is still head of the family,' said James rather coolly. 'I don't think he plans to hand it over to me anytime soon.'

'Probably not,' said Mr. Shacklebolt. 'Nevertheless, he should prepare for the future. He is not that young anymore after all. You have a promising future, James, and it is no kindness not to prepare you, just to grant you a few more carefree years.'

His words rang true and James knew that Mr. Shacklebolt had a point. Still, he felt rather angry at the man poking so much into their internal affairs. He clamped down on his anger. The Shacklebolts were not his enemy. They were a rather traditional family, but they were not dark and not interested in hunting down any Muggleborns. He must not antagonize them just because they were being pushy.

'I suppose,' he said, arranging his face into a neutral mask.

'You should not lecture the boy so much, Wesley,' said Mrs. Shacklebolt to his husband. 'I am sure that Richard is going to do what is necessary to prepare James. He always was very methodical and responsible after all. How are things at school James? Are you seeing anyone?'

'Things have been rather rocky at school, but they are fine now,' said James, grateful for the change of topic. 'And no, I am not currently seeing anyone.'

'Well, I suppose there still is time,' said Mrs. Shacklebolt. 'Early marriages are not that common anymore, after all. Though I have heard that Amber Marchbanks is going to marry Peter Fawley as soon as she finishes the school year. Not only is she getting married straight out of Hogwarts, but it also is an arranged marriage. I was rather surprised to hear that news. They have kept it well under wraps.'

'Indeed?' asked James, trying to look only mildly interested at this topic. He felt a stab of jealousy and dread when he thought about Amber's upcoming marriage. He knew that Amber had been keen on keeping that information as private as possible, but of course they could only keep it a secret for so long. After all, they probably had a lot of guests and had to invite them at some point before the wedding started. He wondered how many people knew about her marriage by now. While he was not exactly public with his relationship with her it hardly was a secret. Having a secret relationship at Hogwarts was close to impossible anyway giving how effective the rumour mill was. If information about Amber's marriage became more well known, he probably would have to answer some rather rude questions why he was fooling around with an engaged woman. James had no desire whatsoever to justify his actions in front of anyone. Hopefully, it would not come to that. He probably should have a talk with Amber when he got back to school. He wondered whether she already had a plan. She was a Ravenclaw after all, so she had to be prepared, right?

'Maybe she just is a private person.'

'Maybe,' said Mrs. Shacklebolt. 'Though I don't really see why she would make a fuss about that Marriage. The Fawleys are a well-liked family after all. They are not dark and have an excellent blood line. I would be thrilled if my daughter married a Fawley. Have you ever thought about marriage, James?'

'Err, no, I haven't,' said James alarmed. 'I think I am rather young to think about marriage, don't you think?'

'Well, maybe,' said Mrs. Shacklebolt. 'I suppose you can afford to take your time. After all, almost all pure-blood families would let you marry one of their daughters and be happy about the union.'

'I am surprised that you parents haven't arranged a marriage for you,' said Mr. Shacklebolt. 'After all, their marriage was arranged and they have been rather happy with each other, have they not? Clearly, something is to be said for a good old-fashioned arranged marriage. It makes sure that your children marry someone suitable.'

'My parents want me to make my own choices,' said James. 'They are happy with each other, but they were not thrilled when their marriage was arranged. Both of them knew that they were probably going to end up in an arranged marriage, but it still quite difficult to stomach, is it not?'

'Well, our marriage was not arranged, so we can't really tell,' said Mrs. Shacklebolt. 'It was kind of obvious that we were going to end up getting married for a long time, so our parents did no see the need to arrange anything. Most pure-bloods just want their children to marry someone suitable in general and not someone in specific. So they tend to let their children choose their own partner if they are confident in their choices. I am sure that you are going to choose a very nice girl one day, James.'

'Err, thank you,' said James, taking another sip of his champagne to cover his embarrassment. Kingsley rather seemed to enjoy his discomfort. James glared at him briefly. He was not sure that he liked the Shacklebolts. He knew that they were nice enough people, but they seemed rather involved in other people's affairs and rather convinced that their way to live was the only right one. He wondered what they would say if they knew that he had been lusting after a Muggleborn witch for most of his past school years and was currently shagging an engaged woman. Would Mrs. Shacklebolt still believe in his ability to pick a suitable girlfriend? James had not illusions in this regard. Lily was by no means a suitable match for him. She was Muggleborn and came from a middle class family. He doubted that his parents would be thrilled, but they would probably support him. However, other pure-bloods would not be so forgiving. Sometimes, they could turn a blind eye to less than stellar blood if the partner was rich enough, but Lily had no redeeming qualities for the more traditional pure-bloods. James pushed the thought away. He was daydreaming again. He was not closer to dating Lily than he had been a year ago. She was still dating Palmer and he was still dating Amber. He still wanted Lily, of course, but he had caught himself dreaming about a future with Amber as well at multiple times through the last month. Maybe that was his fate. To flicker from one unreachable witch to the next without really getting anywhere. Maybe he should take a leaf out of Sirius's book and just go for the easy shags. While casual intimacy was not really his cup of tea, it was certainly preferable to pining for someone completely out of reach.

Mrs. Shacklebolt looked like she wanted to ask him another question, given that he had hardly responded to her previous statement. James dreaded what was about to come next, but before he could figure out a way to get out of this conversation without being rude, he was saved by the start of the donations.

'Welcome all,' said a tall man in healer robes who had just appeared on the stage. 'I am head healer John Matthews and I am happy to welcome you all to our annual fundraiser.'

A polite round of applause followed his words, though it seemed rather unenthusiastic. James thought he knew why: Matthews was not a pure-blood name. So, their host was either a half-blood or a Muggleborn. Combined with the goal of today's donation, this was a rather big provocation aimed at the blood purists in the crowd.

'Thank you,' said Matthews. 'As you know, all of today's donation will be used to improve the treatment of all victims of the terrorist group called the Death Eaters. This includes aurors as well as regular wizards and witches as well as Muggles who need to be healed from spell induced damage in St. Mungo's. As usual, you can drop any amount of money in the donation box over there or you can grab a piece of parchment and just write down what you want to donate. All donators will receive a letter of thanks from St. Mungo's and will be included in our public list of supporters if they want it. Let's use today to set a symbol of the equality of magical and non-magical people. It is our duty...'

Before he could finish the sentence, a flash of green light blazed through the room and connected squarely with his chest. Matthews remained standing for a moment, before falling to a ground, obviously dead. James whirled around, try to find the source of the spell, just as screams started to erupt in the crowd. Suddenly, figures in black hoods, were everywhere in the room. They were quickly engaged by the local security wizards and with a few minutes, spells flew through the crowded hall. James cursed as a purple spell grazed his right hand, leaving a small, but deep gash in his flesh. He had to get out of here. He glanced at the doors leading out of the room and was not surprised to see people trying to leave the room already. However, they were out of luck. No matter how they much the pulled at the door, it did not budge. James cursed. He would have to find another way. He dashed aside, jumped over a table holding various champagne flutes and crashed painfully to the floor behind it. Naturally, he had knocked over quite a few glasses during his hasty movement and broken glass rained down around him. He ducked and covered his face with his arms. When the clicking of falling glass had stopped, he decided to risk a glance at the room. He had to find his parents after all. Chaos had taken over. All he could see were people running around in panic as well as fighting each other. Some were fighting the Death Eaters while others seemed to fighting each other and ignored the dark wizards all together. James frowned. That did not make any sense. A spell flew in his direction and he ducked back down again. Fear gripped at his insides. He got his wand out of his pocket and gripped it so hard that his knuckles turned white. What was he going to do now? He was itching to go out there and try to stop the Death Eaters, but it would be utterly foolish to do so. He was seventeen after all and while he was quite good at duelling, he had never fought a dark wizard before. The Death Eaters had already shown that they were ready to kill and he doubted that they were going to show him any mercy. The smart thing to do would be to stay hidden and wait until the aurors arrived. Surely, they knew by now that the Death Eaters were attacking the fundraiser. But what if they did not? If they did not overpower the Death Eaters, they were all as good as dead. He did not understand, what the Death Eaters were doing here. The room was chock full with pure-bloods and they attacked them nevertheless? Apparently, blood status was not enough to keep one protected anymore. James felt another wave of fear rise through him. He had always assumed that the Death Eaters would be hesitant to kill him, as he was a member of one of the oldest pure-blood families. Yes, his family had been labelled blood traitors by many of the more traditional pure-bloods, but he had never expected their hatred to be that deep. It was a harsh reminder of how serious the conflict had become by now. James took a deep breath a tried to regain a grip on himself. He did not feel like a brave Gryffindor at the moment. He just felt scared and wanted it all to be over. However, he could not just stay here and wait for the Death Eaters to finish them off one by one. He had to find his parents! While both his mother and his father had been very good duellers in their youth, they were both old by now and probably would not be able to defend themselves. He was not going to lose them to the Death Eaters. James gathered his courage and poked his head out of his hiding place. The chaos was even more intense than it had been some moments ago. More of the guests had started fighting back and spells ricocheted trough the room. James did not see any more of that devastating green light, which he suspected to be the dreaded killing curse, but he most of the spells did look rather dangerous. Taking heart by the fact that nobody was actively aiming at him, he carefully left his hiding place with his wand at the ready. Where were his parents? In the chaos it was very difficult to find them. He cast a glance around and in his distraction was promptly shoved aside roughly from an agitated man. He lost his balance and hit the ground hard, his wand clattering away on the floor. James cursed and scrambled to pick it up again. In the process, he barely avoided getting kicked in the face by a panicked witch. James cursed again. Never mind the spells, he was in more danger of being trampled to death if he wasn't careful.

'Protego,' he yelled as soon as his fingers closed around his fallen wand. A magic shield appeared around him. James breathed a sigh of relief. The shield spell was going to prevent people from crashing into him and would deflect most the spells. However, it would make it extremely difficult for him to navigate through the thick crowd without knocking people away left and right. He needed another way to find his parents. It was just like finding the snitch during a Quidditch game. Granted, usually you were not in danger of getting murdered while playing Quidditch, but that was beside the point. An idea struck James in that moment: He needed a higher vantage point if he wanted to find his parents in this chaos. He glanced at the ceiling and was pleased to see that it was rather high. A simple hovering charm would be enough to get him up a few feet which hopefully would allow him to spot his parents. However, it would also paint a target sign on him as the Death Eaters would also be able to see him. James cursed. He could really use his invisibility cloak by now, but it was still at Hogwarts and therefore far out of reach. Well, fortunately, there were other ways to make himself harder to see. His best choice was probably the disillusionment charm, though he was rather bad at doing it. Sirius and him had started toying around with the charm during their last year, as they were by now too tall to all fit comfortably under the invisibility cloak, but neither of them had really gotten the hang out the charm. Well, there was no time like the present to learn. James whacked himself on the head with his wand, while muttering the incantation. He felt something cold trickle over his body and was pleased to see that the charm had worked. He looked down at his body. If the charm had worked properly, he would now share the colour and texture of the wall behind him, making him very hard to see. However, his charm had only worked partially. While the colour was almost right, his texture had not changed at all. James cursed softly under his breath, but decided that it was had to be enough. A wayward spell cracked against his still active shield charm, startling him. He wildly looked around, trying to find his assailant, but was not able to see anyone. He relaxed slightly. It had probably been cast at someone else and had gone astray. Still, it was a harsh reminder of in how much danger he was in. If that spell had been something dark which could have penetrated his shield, he would not even have seen it, before it hit him. He needed to be more careful. Well, as careful as one could be in his situation. He took a deep breath and cast the hovering charm on himself. He slowly rose up to the ceiling and the higher he got, the better he could gauge the chaos in the room. The Death Eaters were still at large, but more and more people were pushing back against them. James could not spot any more dead bodies. Apparently the Death Eaters were strangely hesitant to toss around the killing curse. He wondered why that was. They did not have any qualms in killing Matthews after all. Maybe he had been wrong before and they were still hesitant to spill any pure blood. In all this commotion, they were probably hard-pressed to tell the pure-bloods from the half bloods and the Muggleborns. Maybe, they were just being careful. That was a hopeful thought, but James found it difficult to understand the motives of a Death Eaters. He spotted an obviously injured Death Eater falling back to his friends and felt hope swell in his chest at the sight. They were not dead yet. They still had the chance to get out of here alive and in one piece.

His gaze continued to travel over the crowd. He saw a few children cower in a corner behind an overturned table. They could not be older than twelve. The body of a woman laid at their feet. James could not tell whether she was still alive, but he desperately hoped that she was. Was she the mother of one of kids? James imagined losing his mother to these beasts at such a young age. The thought made him sick in his stomach. These kids deserved better. His tore his gaze away and finally spotted what he had been looking for all along: his parents. He saw his father's messy head of hair at one of the columns in the front of the room. He was duelling with a Death Eater, while his mother was slumped against the column, clutching at her side. Fear clawed at James. Naturally, his parents were in the very heart of the fighting. He had to do something! He wondered whether he would be able to hit the Death Eater with a spell out of this distance. It was rather unlikely and he did run the risk of hitting his father by mistake. No, that was not the way to go. He needed to get closer to help his father properly. To do so, he needed to get back to the ground and walk over there on foot. He bit his lower lip for a moment. Getting through all the people in the way would be difficult. He might have to fight his way free and that could be close to impossible if he encountered a Death Eater. Still, he had to do something. Just staying up here was no alternative. James was a Gryffindor after all and bravery was the key quality of their house. A small voice in his head pointed out that stupidity and bravery were very similar, but he pushed it away. This was not the time to indulge his self-doubts. Just as he was about to reverse the hover charm to get back to the ground, a surprised shout sounded close to him. James looked down and saw a tall Death Eater looking straight at him. Fear shot through James, he was very vulnerable here as long as he was floating. The Death Eater shot a purple spell at him and James had to react. He impulsively cut his hovering charm and crashed to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of him, but the Death Eater's spell soared way over his head. Gathering his strength, he rolled left on the ground and cowered behind a column. He could here further spells cracking into the floor where he had been just minutes ago. His foe seemed determined to get him. James was not going to make it easy for him. The column gave him enough protection to get back to his feet. He silently cast a shield charm around him and peeked out of his save retreat. He found himself face to face with the Death Eaters. James yelped and staggered back, only barely keeping his footing. The Death Eater shot another spell at him which James recognized as a cutting charm. Fortunately, his shield was still in place, so it fizzled harmlessly against the protective barrier. James did not want to think about what the spell would have done to him if it had connected. Infuriated by his lack of success, James started to strike back. He cast a stunner at his opponent and followed it up with a silent disarming spell. His opponent had no trouble dodging the shield charm, but James almost succeeded in disarming him. The Death Eater's wand slipped out of his fingers and he only barely managed to snatch it out of the air before it was out of his reach. James cast another stunner at him, but the Death Eater effortlessly blocked the spell with a shield charm.

'You are not going to win this fight using stunners and disarming charms,' he growled. His voice was deep and strangely distorted. James suspected that he was using a charm to mask his voice. 'You are just a foolish school boy playing the hero.'

'You decided to attack the fundraiser,' said James. 'Do you expect me to take this lying down?'

'No, I expect you to die,' snarled the Death Eater and started flinging spells at James.

James managed to block one curse and dodged another, but then a deep blue spell hit his left arm. He felt the bone in his arm snap and screamed in pain. Someone he managed to keep his footing and to block the follow up attack of the Death Eater. Nevertheless, he could feel panic rising in him. He was losing this fight. He only was still alive, because for some reason the Death Eater refrained from using the killing curse. James was not sure how long that was going to last. He could not flee, so his only choice was to try to win the duel. He could not stay defensive all the time. That was just going to drag out the duel and end up with him losing nevertheless. The Death Eater only needed him to mess up once and it would be done. Fortunately, the same was also true for James.

Screwing up his courage, he bashed aside another curse of the Death Eater and started flinging spells of his own. His stunner got blocked as well as his body bind curse, but his cutting charm was too fast for the Death Eater to block. It hit him in the right shoulder and a large gash appeared in his black robes as well as in the flesh underneath. The Death Eater gasped in pain.

'How dare you?' he snarled. 'I am going to teach you real pain you little brat. Crucio!'

The spell was too quick for James to block or evade. Pure, unbearable pain sliced through his body and almost wiped out his consciousness. He was only dimly aware of dropping to the floor and losing his wand. Every inch of his body was on fire. James could hear himself screaming, but it felt so far away. He was alone with his pain. When he thought he could not last another moment, the pain suddenly stopped. James gasped and tried to move, but he was incredibly weak. He had lost his glasses while he had been under the curse and could only see blurry shapes. Suddenly, his hearing normalized again and he could hear scream, spells flying as well as voices nearby.

'The aurors are here, we have to go,' said a distorted voice. 'Move it.'

'Just one moment,' said another distorted voice, which James recognized as the Death Eater's. 'Let me kill that brat first. This will emphasize our message.'

'That is James Potter, you idiot,' said the first voice again. 'Leave him alone, we have plans for him.'

James tried to make sense out of that statement, but his mind was not cooperating. Black spots started to appear in his vision. He fought with the unconsciousness which was creeping in on him and lost.