Thank you for reading! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Please let me know if you enjoy! Updates every Saturday!
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"Do you see this, Dad?" James asked his father later that night.
The road had been closed for the day.
The wrecked truck had been towed away, another similar one was on its way to perform the same service for Lily's car.
The ambulance had left.
Hugo and Rose had gone home at their parents' request.
The Trendells had receded into their little house to grieve their only child.
Mark frowned as James showed Tom the damaged brakes on Lily's car.
"Do you see the way they've been cut? This was purposeful, Dad." James snarled, "Don't you agree, Mark?"
"That's right." Mark nodded as Tom glanced over at him, "That's what cut car brakes look like in the books I've read anyway."
Tom wrinkled his nose.
"If that is true, son, then what does it mean?" He asked.
James's face fell.
Exasperated, he pleaded with Tom on the worst day of his young life, "Dad, please! For once, use your great mind to help someone besides yourself! Who else would do this? Who else would go out of their way to-"
"-If your sister intended to harm someone," Tom calmly countered, "She wouldn't rely on flimsy muggle mechanics to do the job."
"That's exactly why she'd send someone…..or something….to do it for you, to cause you to doubt. She's a murderer!" James shrieked.
"She's the brightest witch of her age!" Tom roared.
James widened his eyes at Tom in horrified disbelief before he let go of the car part in his hand.
Without a single word, he turned and walked down the road, into the setting sunset before he reached the forest and allowed the trees to swallow him whole.
Mark glanced from his brother's receding figure to his father as he nervously attempted to speak, "Dad, I-"
"Your brother's taking a walk, that's all. It's been a trying day." Tom sniffed.
Mark shook his head, "I don't think-"
Tom cast his youngest son a disapproving scowl before he pointed up the hill,
"In the house, Mark." He snapped, "In the house……NOW. Your mother will be waiting on us for dinner"
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The chaos of the day left dinner to be a solemn affair that night.
Tom was the only one who enjoyed his meal.
Mark picked at his food.
Harriet had no appetite, distraught over Lily's death and worried for her son's future.
"Where did you say he's gone, Tom?" She asked as they all stood from their seats after a miserable half hour of silence had passed.
Mark blinked at his father.
"He's gone to take a walk." Tom shrugged, "The boy's upset…..He'll be back, sweetling…….once he's ready."
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When James failed to return by the next day, it shocked Tom to realize that his sound sense of reasoning must have fallen on deaf ears.
James had been thrown into such a deep pit of grief and anger not even Harriet's soothing words of motherly love or Mark's hug of brotherly sympathy had managed to reach him.
Although he had no hard evidence that would convince an outsider, he knew beyond all shadow of doubt that his sister had somehow been directly implicated in extinguishing the light from his world.
No more dreams, no more hopes.
The horrifying finality of Lily's death bore down upon him with unbearable, vice-like pressure as he contemplated a lifetime without her.
Despite his pain, James had no intention of remaining idle.
His addled mind allowed for no long term plans but he used the good sense to seek help where he knew he would find it.
Barely twenty-four hours after graduation, Hogwarts' headmaster sat at his desk, leisurely reviewing a few documents when the door to his office swung open.
"James……." Dumbledore blinked as the Minister's eldest son strode into the room as if he owned the castle in its entirety, "What brings you back to Hogwarts so soon?"
With an apparition license, Dumbledore had no need to ask for silly details about James's certain trip to the hillside next to Hogsmeade, yet the grim look on his former student's face alerted him immediately to the seriousness of the situation.
"My Mum said you told her years ago that help was always given at Hogwarts to those who asked for it. Is that true, Professor?" James frowned.
Dumbledore blinked, "……..Yes, James…..it is true."
"Then I've come to collect it, the 'help' that's promised." James spoke, his voice rough and dry.
"James……?" Dumbledore asked as he stared at his former student and narrowed his eyes incredulously, "……..What's happened?"
It worried Dumbledore that Tom's eldest son had seemed to age a decade in two days, although he admittedly had not read the previous evening's papers.
News of Lily's death had not yet made it to Dumbledore's ears.
"Is it also true, sir, that when my sister was born in this castle, you and the others were warned that she would only bring suffering to the world and all those in it?" James asked.
"How did you come to know that?" Dumbledore asked, "Have your parents told you?"
"I know everything there is to know about my living sister." James said flatly, "……..Now at her hands, Lily is……Lily's…….."
He swallowed as he closed his eyes to avoid the humiliation of weeping in front of another man, but Dumbledore's eyes widened as he understood the words James could not say.
"I'm very sorry for your loss, my boy." Dumbledore said quickly as he nodded, "A great pity……Lily was a brilliant girl."
"She was my girl." James snapped as he opened his eyes to stare into Dumbledore's again, "And I need your help! I need Hogwarts' help! I will face my sister today and end this turmoil, purge her evil from the world…..today!"
Dumbledore gazed at James.
"What exactly is it that you mean for Hogwarts to do?" He asked, "If you're after the Basilisk, it remains in the Chamber of Secrets. I'm certain you can-"
"-I don't want the bloody Basilisk!" James snarled.
Dumbledore paused at the untamed anger in his voice, fresh from the deep cut of grief he had endured.
"May I see the Sorting Hat?" James asked.
Dumbledore hesitated.
"Please, Professor Dumbledore?" He frowned, "It's my only hope now."
With a reluctant nod, Dumbledore walked across the room.
James stood and watched as his former headmaster retrieved the magical object from its safe perch.
"James……" Dumbledore began as James reached forward, "For this to work, your heart will need to stay pure……Godric Gryffindor did not stand for selfishness……or for ill intent."
James frowned as he listened to Dumbledore's warning.
As fatally arrogant as his father, he nodded his head after too quick of a pause and reached forward, into the Hat.
He had barely pulled the shining metal from the Sorting Hat's tattered brim before he left in a rush, mumbling some brief words of thanks to Dumbledore on his way out.
After he had gone, Dumbledore sat the Hat back on its housing ledge with a heavy sigh.
"…….The boy will fail." The Hat scowled.
Dumbledore blinked before he replied, "That's not for us to decide now."
"The Hat's right, you know." One of the moving portraits on the walls quipped.
Dumbledore waved that statement away with a single swipe of his hand.
Who was he to judge?
Perhaps the son would in fact be greater than the father after all.