"Wait, wait, wait, what is the meaning of this, Moody?" James asked, his brow furrowed in confusion, as he watched Alastor Moody usher Professor Trelawney away.

Moody turned around, his magical eye whirring and darting about, and a mischievous smile crept onto his grizzled face. "Merry Christmas, Potter, and thank your wife for me,"

"What has Lily done ?" James turned to his best friend, his curiosity piqued.

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Moody, what's going on?"

Moody leaned in closer, his voice low and secretive. "Lily found a white plastic ball months ago, right on the shelf where Hermione's prophecy was supposed to be."

Trelawney, who had been listening intently, couldn't hold back any longer. "I swear, I had nothing to do with it!"

"Shut up," Moody snapped at her, his patience running thin.

James, growing increasingly frustrated, added, "Keep speaking, Moody."

Moody continued, addressing James, "So, Lily contacted me to investigate."

Sirius interjected, puzzled, "But why didn't she come to James or me first?"

Moody leaned in, his voice a low whisper, "Lily knows how sensitive James is about Hermione. She didn't want to tell him anything until we were one hundred percent sure that the prophecy was false."

James nodded, understanding Lily's reasoning. "How did you discover that the prophecy was false then?"

Moody grinned slyly, his magical eye gleaming. "When Lily contacted me, we searched the entire Hall of Prophecies, just in case it had gotten lost. We found nothing. So, we decided to look in the book where all the prophecies are recorded."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, concern creeping into his voice. "Interfering with the book or the prophecies is forbidden unless the person to whom the prophecy belongs gives express consent."

Moody's malicious smile deepened, and he delivered the bombshell with relish. "Your wife, James, obtained the consent of the person in question."

James's eyes widened in shock as he stammered, "She... she spoke to her?"

Moody nodded solemnly and, without further ado, grabbed Trelawney and marched her toward the fireplace.

Moody glanced back at James one last time and said, "Merry Christmas, Potter. I'll wait for you on Monday in the interrogation room. Talk to your wife." With that, he disappeared into the floo network with Professor Trelawney, leaving James and Sirius in a state of bewilderment.

Sirius, still in shock from the revelation, turned to James with wide eyes. "James, did you hear the same thing I did?"

James, his rage building with each step, began to storm back into the room where the Order of the Phoenix was in session. As he entered, all eyes turned toward him, but he paid them no mind. With a clenched jaw and a fiery determination in his eyes, he slammed both of his fists on the table for emphasis.

Dumbledore, his calm demeanor unwavering, looked back at James. "James, what is the meaning of this?"

But James cut him off with a venomous glare. "You're next, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore, with a touch of sadness in his eyes, responded softly, "I have done nothing to deserve your anger, James."

James's laughter was cruel and bitter, the sound echoing through the room. "Oh, you've done plenty, Dumbledore. You've toyed with our lives as you pleased."

Minerva, who had been standing behind James, couldn't hold back her confusion any longer. "James, what do you mean?"

An enraged James, his voice shaking with fury, declared, "I sacrificed three years of my life, living in constant fear for my daughter's safety, just to ensure that fucking prophecy would never come to be."

Minerva, her face paling, whispered in horror, "That's impossible."

James's laugh was devoid of mirth as he continued, "Oh, it's possible, all right. They found a fucking plastic ball where my daughter's prophecy was supposed to be."

Dumbledore, maintaining his calm demeanor, asserted, "I assure you, James, I have no knowledge of this."

But James couldn't contain his anger any longer. His voice thundered through the room, "STOP PRETENDING TO BE THE FUCKING SAINT, DUMBLEDORE! YOU ARE NO BETTER, PERHAPS EVEN WORSE, THAN VOLDEMORT HIMSELF. YOU FUCKING MANIPULATE PEOPLE AS YOU SEE FIT, WITHOUT REGARD FOR THE FUCKING CONSEQUENCES. I LOST MY DAUGHTER BECAUSE OF YOU!"

Dumbledore implored James to calm down. "James, please, calm down. If only you had listened to me, Hermione would still —"

James interrupted, his voice a fierce growl, "I AM NOT GOING TO FUCKING CALM DOWN! I GENUINELY FUCKING PITY ALL THESE PEOPLE YOU'VE GATHERED HERE, THINKING YOU'RE SOME KIND OF FUCKING SAVIOR. I SWEAR TO YOU, DUMBLEDORE, AS SURE AS MY NAME IS JAMES CHARLUS POTTER, THAT YOU WILL END UP IN AZKABAN, EVEN IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO IN THIS LIFE."

With that final vow, James turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Sirius, his expression hard and unforgiving, remained behind, staring at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, addressing Sirius with a calm tone, asked, "Is there anything you would like to add, Sirius?"

Sirius, his anger still smoldering, shrugged his shoulders with a dismissive gesture. "You played with the life of a two-year-old girl, Dumbledore, and stole from her the chance to grow up with her parents. You're a manipulative and heartless individual. I deeply regret the day I trusted you to protect Hermione. And honestly, to everyone here, I think you should all reconsider whether you want to follow a person who used fear and manipulation to shatter a family's happiness."

James arrived at Potter Manor with heavy breathing and a pounding heart. His head throbbed, and his heartache was almost unbearable. He couldn't shake the feeling of suffocation, and his hands trembled uncontrollably. He desperately tried to calm himself, but his mind raced with thoughts of what had just transpired. His vision blurred slightly, but he could make out Lily's concerned green eyes as she approached him. "James, breathe," she urged, her voice filled with worry.

"I can't breathe," James managed to say, his voice strained.

"Yes, you can," Lily replied, gently cupping his face. "Tell me five things you can see."

"What?" James asked, feeling overwhelmed.

"Tell me five things you can see," Lily repeated, her voice soothing.

James looked at her and stammered, "I can see you, the fireplace, the lamp, the television, and... and the photos."

"Very good," Lily praised, her tone full of love. "Tell me four things you can touch."

"Your hands," James replied, his voice steadier, "my hair, the chair, and the floor."

"You're doing well," Lily encouraged him. "Tell me three things you can hear."

James, gradually calming down, listed, "The radio, the birds outside, and the noise from the pressure."

James noticed that he could now breathe a bit easier, though it was still a struggle. He sank onto the couch.

"James, look at me," Lily instructed. "Tell me two things you can smell."

"Your perfume," James said, his breathing steadying, "and... and the food."

"Great, very good," Lily praised him. "I'm proud of you. Now, tell me something you can taste."

"My toothpaste," James answered.

Lily smiled warmly at him. "Are you feeling better, darling?"

James nodded, his head still in his hands. "Thank you so much."

Lily gently asked, "What happened?"

"Moody arrested Trelawney for fraud," James explained. "And he told me to thank you, by the way."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier," Lily said, her voice filled with regret.

"Don't worry," James reassured her. "At least we're starting to find out what really happened."

Lily inquired further, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"I threatened to lock Dumbledore in Azkaban," James admitted.

Lily was taken aback. "You did what?"

"I think Dumbledore has something to do with Evan's death," James said, frustration evident in his voice. "I don't know why, but I can't shake this feeling."

Lily was curious. "Why do you think that?"

"Because if he played with us, what doesn't assure us that he also played with Evan's life?" James replied, his frustration growing

"Do you think Dumbledore could have killed Evan?" Lily asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Imagine that Dumbledore somehow discovered that Evan had taken Mia," James mused, "he could have tracked him down and killed him, wanting to know where Mia was."

Lily was shocked. "Do you think Dumbledore is capable of killing and torturing someone?"

"At this point, I believe Dumbledore is capable of anything to get what he wants," James said with a bitter laugh.

Lily's mind raced. "What if Trelawney was involved too?"

"What are you saying?" James asked, his brow furrowing.

"The only one who knew that Hermione was going to be born apart from our family was Dumbledore," Lily reasoned. "The false prophecy was made by Trelawney, and Dumbledore convinced us that the prophecy was true."

"So you think they're in cahoots with eachother?" James inquired.

"What I think is that there's more than one person involved," Lily replied, her expression grave.

"Let's analyze what we know," James said to Lily, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "We know that Evan was tortured and left to bleed to death. Do you know of any curse that can do that?"

Lily shook her head, her expression troubled. "It doesn't ring a bell."

James leaned in closer, his voice low and serious. "I know this is going to sound pretty bad, but Lucius and Regulus have to know something. They used to be Death Eaters, and... and the curse that killed Evan is practically dark magic."

"We can talk to them," Lily agreed, her concern mirroring James's.

James continued, his mind racing, "We also know that Barty seeks revenge for Evan's death, and Barty has a signature that he leaves, the black roses. We have to find out if there is anyone who has received black roses or something related to them."

Lily nodded in agreement, adding, "Black roses are not ordinary roses."

"If we can find the black roses, we might find the people Barty is trying to locate," James said firmly. "I don't want this to turn into a Second Wizarding War with our daughter in the middle."

Lily reassured him, her voice unwavering, "That's not going to happen, James. And if it does, we'll fight just like we always have."

James playfully hugged Lily, causing her to sit on his lap. With a mock accusatory tone, he teased her, "It's your fault for calling Mia like the daughter of Helen of Troy."

Lily playfully swatted his arm and retorted, "When I suggested her name to you, you liked it!"

"She's an incredible witch," James said with pride, his thoughts drifting to their daughter.

"She is," Lily agreed lovingly, "and you can tell she has your genes and your knack for getting into trouble."

Pretending to be offended, James asked, "Why are Mia and Harry only your children when they get into trouble?"

Lily grinned mischievously and replied, "Well, now our daughter is a dragon rider."

James enthusiastically exclaimed, "That's my daughter!"

Lily then asked if James had spoken to Mia. "Have you spoken to her since Christmas?"

Sadly, he shook his head. "No."

Lily suggested, "You should write her a letter."

James seemed unsure. "Does she answer your letters?"

Lily nodded and assured him, "Almost the entire family exchanges letters with Mia."

James agreed, "I'll try to speak to her during the Easter break."

As Lily got up to check on the food, she added a word of caution, "Just remember when you talk to Mia that she's not Hermione."

James nodded, a wistful smile on his face, and admitted, "Sirius told me the same thing."

Lily smiled and teased, "Well, Sirius is right once in a while, and this is one of those times."

When James arrived at the Ministry, he found Alastor Moody waiting for him at the door to the interrogation room. Moody's eye swiveled and locked onto James as he approached.

"Did Trelawney tell you something?" James asked Moody, his voice taut with anticipation.

"Not much," Moody replied gruffly. "She's admitted that the prophecy was false, but she hasn't said much else. Refuses to talk to anyone but you."

James frowned, a gnawing sense of unease settling in his stomach. "Did she tell you why?"

Moody's response was curt. "No."

"Alright," James said, reaching for the doorknob. "I'll see what I can get out of her."

Inside the interrogation room, the only sound was Trelawney's nervous sniffling. James took a seat in front of her and offered, "Do you want something to drink?"

Trelawney, apprehensive and wringing her hands, replied, "A cup of tea, if you please."

James nodded and summoned a cup of tea, placing it in front of Trelawney. She took small sips while James regarded her intently.

"Moody told me you wanted to talk to me," James said, his voice steady and serious.

Trelawney nodded, her gaze averted, and murmured, "I have a confession to make."

James leaned in, his eyes fixed on her. "Are you willing to sign everything you declare?"

Trelawney nodded once more, and James instructed her, "Then, start talking."

Stuttering and clearly anxious, Trelawney began, "Dumbledore planned it all from the beginning."

James pressed for more. "Go on."

Trelawney explained, "Dumbledore needed a way for both you and Lily to blindly trust him."

"And what did he do?" James probed.

Trelawney continued, "He forced me to make up a prophecy, knowing that someone would listen."

James was perplexed. "I don't understand."

Trelawney clarified, "Dumbledore somehow knew that Snape was eavesdropping on us, and he also knew that Snape would eventually tell Voldemort."

"You're telling me Snape is involved too?" James asked, incredulous.

Trelawney nodded and disclosed, "Dumbledore needed someone within Voldemort's ranks, and who better than Snape?"

"Why Snape?" James asked frowning,

"Dumbledore knew that Snape would soon deduce that the prophecy child was Hermione, and he planned to use Snape's obsession with your wife to manipulate him."

James questioned further, "What did Dumbledore offer?"

"In exchange for protecting Lily, Dumbledore demanded Snape's loyalty," Trelawney explained. "Snape only prayed for Lily's life; he didn't care about Hermione or you."

James suddenly became suspicious and asked, "Why are you telling me all this now?"

"Because someone is coming for me," Trelawney replied, her voice trembling. "Someone wants me knows what Snape and Dumbledore did, and there's a high possibility that I'll die."

James was taken aback. "What has Snape done to make someone come after him?"

Trelawney seemed astonished. "You don't know?"

"Know what?" James demanded impatiently.

"The curse that killed Evan Rosier is called Sectumsempra," Trelawney revealed.

James was shocked. "How do you know that? That's confidential information."

"The curse is Snape's creation," Trelawney confessed. "It was Snape's idea for Dumbledore to kill Evan. Only Snape knows the countercurse."

James pointed out, "You know you've just admitted that both you and Snape were accomplices to the first-degree murder of Evan Rosier, along with Dumbledore ?. We could charge you with fraud, extortion, and obstruction of an ongoing investigation. All of you."

Trelawney simply sighed and told her, "At the moment, I can only press charges against you and Dumbledore, not Snape, because we lack evidence."

Trelawney accepted this with a weary nod. "I understand."

"I imagine the Wizengamot will be lenient with your sentence since you've cooperated," James added.

Trelawney then dropped another bombshell, "And if I were to tell you that I have evidence, evidence that links all of us to the murder?"

James was taken aback. "What evidence are you talking about?"

"Snape, Dumbledore, and I received packages with black roses, notes, and objects that marked us as perpetrators of the crime," Trelawney disclosed.

James inquired further, "What kind of objects did you receive?"

"I received a plastic ball, Snape got a dagger, and Dumbledore got the Rosier family ring," Trelawney confessed.

James paused, taking in the information. "Is there anything else you want to add?"

Trelawney fell silent. "Great, I need to process this and start the paperwork to bring charges against you three and get a warrant to search Hogwarts," James said, rising from his seat and heading for the door.

"I know it's no use, but I'm so sorry," Trelawney said with a hint of remorse.

James nodded and left the room, making his way to his office. Once inside, he sat down at his desk, deep in thought about the information he had just received. In a fit of anger, he swept everything off his desk. However, something caught his eye amidst the mess.

On top of the desk lay a single black rose with a note. James picked up the rose and examined the note. On the back of the note was a drawing of a black rose, and on the front, it simply said, "You're welcome." In one corner, James noticed two tiny initials scrawled: "BC."