Chapter 4: Ridikkulus

The days following the attack and the ensuing Order meeting had been nothing but hell for James. He had been made to give countless accounts of their Death Eater encounter along with a detailed report of each spell he had used during the fight. This was all standard protocol, but it didn't take a Legilimens to tell that something had changed in the Auror Department. Everyone seemed to be on edge and easily irritated by the slightest of things.

The news that You-know-who had started to recruit half-bloods had spread like Fiendfyre around the ministry. Every witch and wizard seemed to have their own theory about what this meant for the future of the magical world. James had even heard a rumor that You-know-who now had a huge army of imperiused muggles at his command. But for his part, James kept his thoughts to himself, sharing them only with Sirius, on occasion.

In James's opinion, the recent revelation, along with the targeted attack on Mad-Eye, was a warning sign. Unlike what many of his peers seemed to think, James could only see this as a sign that You-know-who was growing in power. The dark wizard now had the ability to send out his half-blood followers to do his dirty deeds and keep his pure-blooded Death Eaters by his side. James did not see how this was a sign of weakening power at all. All this meant to him was that You-know-who's power and influence were growing to such an extent that Half-bloods were willing to join ranks with the evil wizard. The very same man who had been making their lives a living hell for decades. The dark lord wanted to control the country's muggle and wizarding worlds and this was just another step closer to succeeding.

After Wednesday's order meeting, James had convinced Remus, Peter, and Sirius to help him strengthen the wards around Potter Manor. And even then, he found himself lying awake at night constantly worrying that his family would be next on You-know-who's hit list. This was a worry that had plagued James ever since his eldest son's murder at the hands of the dark wizard. But something seemed to be different now and James was taking no chances.

James tucked his wand back into his auror robes and let out a deep breath, the cold air causing white clouds to form. He couldn't do anything else tonight. He had already cast every protective charm he could think of and checked the strength of the existing wards. This had become his nightly routine upon his return from the ministry. While the simple charms might not be enough to repel a death eater attack should the wards fail, it did help to put his mind at ease. At least, until he had said goodnight to his wife and children. After this, the anxious thoughts and frequent nightmares came back to haunt him.

With a heavy sigh, the auror began to make his way back toward his front door. Lily would start to worry soon if he didn't come back inside, and as much as the quiet of the manor grounds beckoned to him, fatigue was finally starting to catch up.

"Lily! I'm back!" Warmth enveloped him as soon as he stepped inside. However, there was no immediate response to his call.

James was about to shout out again when he was suddenly attacked from behind by two small figures. The auror yelled in surprise and was forced to use one hand to brace himself against the wall in order to keep from falling over.

"Daddy, did you know that mum told us that we are old enough to learn how to fly?"

"And mum also said that you were the best flier in the whole world when you were our age. Is that true?"

"But Will said that that wasn't true because it wasn't possible to be the best in the whole world."

James chuckled as he worked to detangle his winter cloak from the two ten-year-olds who were grabbing onto his legs.

"The whole world, hey? Your mum told you that?" James managed to pull the long cloak free and sent it away with a flick of his wand.

"And you know what else?" A set of bright hazel eyes locked onto his.

"What else, Cyrilla?"

"Well, mum also said she'd made that up because you were actually a really horrible flier and that we should ask Uncle Sirius to teach us instead."

James couldn't stop the laugh that welled up in his throat. That sounded more like his Lily.

"No, she did not say that!" James glanced over at the elder of his twin daughters, "She said that Will could teach us how to fly over summer break. You just want Uncle Sirius to teach us so that you don't have to wait till summer."

Euphemia was glaring at her sister who was clearly not paying her any attention, her gaze still fixed on James's face.

Merlin, James thought, trying to ignore the large, round eyes staring up at him hopefully, she's as bad as her mother.

"Alright, you two. How about we talk about this later, huh? Dad's tired and hungry right now."

This seemed to do the trick and both girls detached themselves from him, allowing James to kick off his dragon-hide auror boots.

"Where's mum at, girls? I want to let her know that I'm home." James waved his wand, sending the shoes sliding across the hall to land in their customary places. "Is she in the library still?"

Both nodded vigorously.

"Alright, well how about the two of you go get cleaned up for supper while I go talk to your mum," James said gently. Much to his relief, his daughters happily agreed and darted away, up the stairs.

The auror checked to make sure the front door was secured before he made his way toward the Potter Library, where his wife was. He smiled to himself as he thought of how Sirius would react upon hearing that Lily had called him the 'best flier in the world'.

James pushed the solid oak door open and the comforting smell of parchment and ink flooded his senses. It smelled like his Lily. He was not at all surprised to hear that the witch was still in the library, even at this late of an hour. It seemed like Lily was always here. That much had not changed from their time at Hogwarts… and he hoped it never would. James let his eyes adjust to the dim light of the room and instantly spotted his wife sitting writing furiously at a table by the fire. The scratching of the quill sounded loud in the stillness of the large room.

"Lily, it's just me. I sent the girls upstairs to get ready for supper."

Lily glanced up at his voice, her bright green eyes lighting up as they landed on him.

"Ah! How was your day? No more attacks I hope."

"None whatsoever. Just more rumors." James walked across the room. As he drew nearer, he noted the smudge of black ink across his wife's cheek. "Sirius wanted me to let you know that he might pop by after dinner. I think he's feeling a bit lonely."

"Either that or he just wants to be fed." Lily chuckled. "That man has the appetite of a Hippogriff. But either way, he should know by now that he's always welcome."

"I also heard a funny thing from the girls when I walked in," James bent down and kissed his wife gently, "Something about me being the best flier in the whole world."

"I did not say that!"

"Well, Cyrilla seemed pretty convinced that you did and I'm inclined to believe her."

Lily set her quill down with a sigh. "Of course you do. But mark my words, James Potter, I am a much better flier than you will ever be. Didn't Professor Hooch say that herself during our first year?"

"Don't remember that."

"Well, then maybe Sirius would recall it. He seems to have a much better memory than you about such things." Lily laughed as she pushed the chair back and stood up.

Choosing to ignore her last remark, James looked down at the parchments covering the desk. The stack of papers seemed larger than it had yesterday.

"Made more progress on your book, it would seem."

The auror reached down to pick up the parchment Lily had just been working on, but before he could grab it Lily swatted his hand away.

"Don't touch that! I don't want you and your ministry dirt to mess up my hard work. At least wash your hands first, for Merlin's sake."

James cast a glare at the witch but did pull his hand away, leaving the white parchment alone. From experience, he knew he would not be able to understand what Lily was writing anyway. Potions had never been his strong suit in Hogwarts and that certainly had not changed.

"It's not like you would be able to spell away any dirt I managed to leave," James grumbled, "Even if my hands did happen to be as grimy as you think they always are."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Honestly James. You're as annoying as Sirius, do you know that? Sometimes I wonder why I ever decided to marry you."

"You wound me," James walked behind his wife before enveloping her in a tight hug. "But I'm happy that you did make the right choice when I asked you."

James didn't need to see Lily's face to know she was smiling at his remark, so he quickly added, "Besides, just think of how boring your life would have been without me. All books and potions. Where's the fun in that?"

The auror was rewarded for this comment with a sharp elbow being shoved into his stomach. He yelped and let Lily go, his arms folding protectively across his midsection.

"That's what you get for calling potions boring," Lily smirked at her husband's pained expression.

"The girls also mentioned William," James quickly gasped out trying to change the subject. He wanted to avoid another painful blow. "Did he firecall you today?"

Lily's gaze softened at the mention of her eldest living son. The two of them were extremely close and she cherished her weekly firecalls with the fourteen-year-old boy.

"He did. He's said he's doing well in his classes and staying out of trouble."

"I don't know if it's even possible for him to get into trouble," James said, watching as Lily grabbed something off her desk. "He's got too much of you in him."

Lily turned back toward him, held out several cream-colored parchments, and continued, "He is doing so well, in fact, that he's been invited to go on a trip to a muggle town. He said his muggle studies professor called him the best in his year."

"Best in his year, huh?" James grabbed what he knew now to be parental consent forms and began to look them over.

"Apparently two of the Weasley children will also be going," Lily continued, "He seemed so excited at the prospect of getting to take a school trip."

James could hear the slight hesitation in her voice, so he said, "But…"

"But I just don't know if right now is the best time for any school trips to be allowed to take place. It's just too dangerous at the moment, what with all the recent attacks. And they're going to a muggle village, James. It's not like they would be going to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade."

"You're worried that they might be attacked by Death Eaters," James knew the nature of his wife's anxiety.

"I mean it wouldn't be beyond the scope of what he would do. Especially if there are a number of half-blood or muggle-born students on this trip. He could easily send some of his Death Eaters to ambush them."

James looked down at the forms in his hand again, reading the neat script carefully. "It does say that the students will have extra defense training with Remus and that there will be several ministry aurors accompanying them. I would also imagine that each child would be equipped with an emergency portkey should anything happen."

Part of the auror was surprised at his own words. He didn't know why he was saying such things when he already had a bad feeling about the situation in general.

"And what would stop the Death Eaters from setting up an anti-portkey ward?" Lily protested.

"I'm not sure that something like that even exists."

"Well, we don't know what he is capable of," James could see the panic building up in his wife's eyes, "He got people into our house, James. Something that we didn't think was possible. And he killed our Harry. What would stop him from killing another one of our children? Do we honestly want to take that risk?"

James set the paper down on his wife's chair. He was so conflicted about what he should feel. While he fully agreed with everything Lily was saying, he just could not bring himself to think of how excited his young son must be to be invited to go on a trip like this. Would he really be so cruel as to deny William a chance to explore more of the world? To live a little bit? After all, this was a reward for his son's academic work, could he truly say no to that?

"What do we do, James?" Lily had come close to her husband, "I told William that we would talk about it. He just looked so happy and excited when he told me the news and owled me the forms. I haven't seen him that excited about something in a long time."

James sighed heavily. He loved his children dearly, but he did not do well with parental decisions like this. It felt like there was no right answer.

He knew that William was a strong and capable dueler, he had made sure of that himself. His son could protect himself if he needed to, but would it be enough? Or would he be sending his son straight to his death by giving his consent? However, the boy did love to travel and this was something that they had never allowed him to do much as he was growing up. He was sure William thought this was his chance to see a new part of the world. Hadn't he himself also wanted to do that when he was in Hogwarts?

"You know we can't protect him forever, Lily," James said slowly, taking his wife's hands in his, "If You-know-who wanted to kill him, then he would have already done it by now."

Lily looked up at him, her green eyes full of emotion as she asked, "You really think he will be ok?"

"He'll be just fine," James felt the tension in the air vanish as both seemed to come to the same concussion, "Besides, I have a feeling that he'd find a way to go even without our consent so we might as well help keep him out of trouble for a little bit longer."

Harry dropped the lump of charcoal into the cauldron on the table in front of him. The sickly grey potion fizzed slightly as the new ingredient dissolved instantly. Harry watched closely as he waited for the colour to change to the deep navy blue that the instructions stated would occur.

Nothing happened.

Fucking potions. Harry felt his temper flair. His hands clenched tightly into fists at his sides as he fought against the urge to blast the stupid cauldron to smithereens. He knew this would cause him more problems, especially since he did not know exactly what he had just created. Knowing his luck, the grey sludge would turn out to be some sort of tooth-whitening serum instead of the draught of darkness he had been assigned to brew.

In truth, Harry didn't really know why Rabastan even continued to have him work on his potion skills. He was so bad at brewing even the simplest of concoctions that it was a wonder he hadn't managed to blow up his entire wing of the manor. Whatever thing he would manage to make by the end of his allotted time usually ended up unrecognizable from its intended form. The inevitable end of his weekly lessons would be a nasty stinging jinx or hard slap from the Death Eater.

Harry found this entire situation to be completely unfair. He just found potions to be useless and boring. He preferred something that had more immediate results and didn't require him to accurately measure out powdered newts' teeth or carefully dice up rosemary shoots. It felt too much like cooking and to him, cooking was only something suited for the likes of muggles or house elves.

With a growl of pure rage and frustration, Harry slammed the lid down onto the cauldron. He collapsed into a nearby chair and resigned himself to wait for Rabastan to show up. It was too late to start over and he knew it would be pointless to try, anyway. He'd just end up making it all worse.

What made Harry even more frustrated, though, was the fact that he had tried to make this potion correctly. The draught of darkness was actually something that interested him. He had thought he had diligently followed the instructions, but obviously, he was such a failure at this art that even that was not enough to produce any semblance of what it should be. It just wasn't fair that, no matter how hard he tried, he could never correctly brew even a simple muscle relaxer.

Fucking charcoal ruined the whole fucking thing, Harry thought as he felt the air around him crackle with his pent-up emotions, I worked on that fucking potion all day and now it's ruined. This is the stupidest skill and I don't even know why father makes me continue to take lessons about i-

He was ripped from his thoughts by a thundering bang that seemed to shake the whole room. Harry bolted to his feet, wand in his hand as he looked around for the source of the sound. To his disappointment, he saw that the noise had come from the cauldron. So much pressure must have built up in the black pot after he had put the lid on that it had blown it clean off. The heavy metal lid now lay dented on the floor next to the table and bits of rock from the ceiling lay scattered around it.

Harry ignored all of this and slumped back into his chair, trying to calm down. He almost wished the explosion had been from an attack on the manor because then he would have been able to get out of the lesson. He already could envision the look of disdain and utter disappointment on his father's face when he would tell him of his failure to brew the assigned draught. But, after so many years, Voldemort really had no reason to expect anything less from Harry when it came to potions.

I wonder if I just leave the lesson early, if Rabastan would even care, Harry thought, already feeling a headache building. I don't really care to be yelled at today. It's also not like there is anything that I can do differently except just give up. I hate potions so fucking much.

Harry ran a hand through his messy black hair and groaned loudly. After almost a solid week of isolation in his wing, he was going mad. In the wake of his failed mission, Voldemort had banned him from leaving the manor or from attending any meeting… for the time being. Harry couldn't help but think this was slightly humorous considering the fact that he had never even been able to attend a single meeting to begin with. Bella and Lucious, who usually would visit him and give him hints of what was being discussed or planned, had not even bothered to see him once. All of this sudden secrecy and seemingly uncommonly harsh isolation was driving Harry to the point of insanity.

With a cry of frustration, Harry pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his cloak from the back of the chair. He had made up his mind. He wasn't going to sit in the smelly, dusty potions room any longer. Rabastan could go to hell for all he cared. He just needed air and the space to let out some of his pent-up emotions before he inadvertently destroyed another room.

Harry was just about to throw the thick cloak over his shoulders when the door to the room slammed open and Rabastan strode in. The Death Eater took one look at the damage to the ceiling above the cauldron before letting out a deep sigh. Harry knew exactly what was coming next.

"Trying to run from our problems, I see," Rabastan said in his usual gravelly voice, "You know what the Dark Lord thinks about that, Harry."

Harry's hands continued to grip tightly onto the edges of his cloak, but he did not move to put it on. His green eyes flashed as he spat back, "Running late as always, Lestrange. You know what my father thinks about that."

Harry was rewarded with the sharp pain of a stinging jinx hitting his left knee. The teen gritted his teeth, more in anger than in pain as he tried to ignore the numerous hexes that instantly sprang to mind.

"Your father will be very disappointed in you, Harry, especially when he finds out about this latest failure. It is said that he, himself, created this very potion when he was but fourteen." Harry's eyes flashed in anger as Rabastan twirled his wand in his hands, taunting him. "And you are, what… almost sixteen? What a shame."

The Death Eater smirked at the look of frustration and rage that clouded the young wizard's face before he sauntered his way over to the cauldron to look at the disaster that lay within. All Harry could do was wait for the harsh judgment of his work. That's all he could ever do.

Rabastan muttered quietly to himself as he began to look over the potion. He carefully examined its color and smell before the man stepped back, furrowing his brows in obvious confusion.

"How did you do this?"

The question took Harry by surprise. "Do what? What did I manage to create this time?"

Rabastan spun around to glare at him.

"You, my young student," the Death Eater spat out, "somehow managed to brew a perfect draught of darkness."

Harry's eyes widened in shock, his cloak dropping to the floor, unnoticed. He brushed past the potion master and looked into the cauldron. Surly the man was just taunting him. The last time he had checked the stupid brew had not reacted well to the charcoal lump and had refused to turn to its signature navy blue colour.

But as Harry glanced into the pot he couldn't help but gasp at the smooth, liquid that sat inside.

"How did you do that? You have never managed to create a potion this well."

Harry just shook his head in disbelief, "I guess I didn't wait long enough after I put the last ingredient in to see if it had succeeded. I didn't think it had worked."

Behind him, Rabastan raised a thick eyebrow.

"Well, whatever you did, it obviously worked. And I must admit, this surprises me and no doubt, will also surprise our lord."

Harry wasn't paying any attention to the Death Eater at this point. He was still in shock at the fact he had finally managed to brew a workable potion. And an advanced one at that.

Harry jolted in surprise as a hand wrapped around his upper arm and spun him around. He found himself face-to-face with Rabastan.

"I said," the man hissed, "Call your father. I have no doubt he will want to witness and make use of this rare accomplishment of yours."

Harry gaged slightly at the Death Eater's sour breath and ripped his arm free from the tight grip. More than anything, he hated being manhandled by any of his father's followers. Casting a warning glance at Rabastan, Harry carefully rolled up the sleeve on his right arm, revealing the black tattoo that curled around his forearm.

Voldemort had taken immense pride in giving Harry his dark mark on his thirteenth birthday. Unlike the usual snake and skull that each Death Eater received, he had made it clear that he wanted to mark Harry as different. So the dark wizard had decided upon an elegant serpent that wrapped its way around Harry's entire forearm; its head coming to rest on the top of his wrist, right at the start of his hand. Custos, his father had called it. A watcher to travel with his heir and ensure that Voldemort could always find and communicate with him.

Placing one finger on the tip of the snake's head, Harry gently pressed down. Both watched as the serpent seemed to move and ripple at the touch, sending a shiver up the young wizard's spine at the odd sensation. He had never gotten used to it.

After only a couple of moments, the snake stilled and Harry knew his father had been alerted to his location. It would only be a matter of time now until the dark lord would appear, he could only hope that the man would be proud of him this time.