Their Seventh Year

Hmm, a lot of you seem to be saying “when are they going to be getting together already?” Consider it like this, she used to really hate him, she’s not just going to fall into his arms.  They will get together, but slowly.  Patience my dears…

Chapter 15- Fixed Points of Reference

They stayed in their room until it was time for dinner, and then decided they may as well face the common room, since they had to eat some time. When they came into the common room, there was none of the usual dull roar of a Saturday evening after a Hogsmeade day. It was strangely quiet and subdued. James thought the rest of his house was having a rather extreme reaction to the loss of points. After all, it was still early in the year, they'd make it up.

"Really you lot, cheer up, it's only a hundred points. Hufflepuff loses that many on a good day." He said bracingly. A few people turned depressed faces to them. Then Maureen O'Connor, the fifth-year prefect, held out a newspaper, a special edition of The Daily Prophet, with a headline that screamed "Death Eaters Attack Muggles Throughout England". James felt the blood drain from his face.

"Muggles?" He said incredulously as Remus snatched the paper from his hand. What was the point of that? Just for sport?

"Not just muggles." Maureen said softly. "Families of muggle-born students at Hogwart's."

There was a small cry, and James looked and saw Lily had taken that moment to come downstairs. She gripped onto Flora's shoulder, as though she might collapse.

"Was it..." James didn’t want to ask, didn't want to know. "Anyone in Gryffindor?"

Maureen nodded, her eyes red and watery, about to spill over. "Sam Hughston. McGonagall came and got him a few minutes ago."

James closed his eyes briefly. Sam Hughston was a shy, quiet, but brightsecond year.

"And two kids from Ravenclaw and two from Hufflepuff." Maureen finished.

James knew there was something he should do or say, as Head Boy he should take charge of the situation, but he didn't know what to do, not for something like this.

He felt like they were all looking at him for some sort of guidance, and he was lost. Head Boy, Quidditch captain, he knew that other students looked to him for direction, but he was after all, only seventeen, and he didn't know any more than they did what to do in a tragedy. Finally, he settled on trying to keep a routine, hoping that would provide some sense of comfort.

"I guess we should all be getting to dinner."

This seemed to be received well, it gave the students something to do rather than sit around staring at each other, and they all knew it was all they could do. As they slowly got up and headed in tight groups for the portrait hole, he shot a worried look at Lily, still frozen with her hand on Flora's shoulder. She caught all their looks and met his eyes.

"All right Lily?" He knew she wasn't, but what else was he supposed to say.

Slowly, as though it took great effort, she nodded. "Yes, but I'm not very hungry, I don't think I'm going to go to dinner." She said softly, and turned back up the girls staircase. With a pained look at all of them, Flora followed her.

James's first impulse was to follow her, but he knew from Sirius's experiences he couldn't go up the girls' stair anyway. There was nothing to do but take his own advice and go to dinner.

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After dinner, James found the silent, almost palpable depression in the common room too oppressive. Around nine, he told his friends he was going to make sure no Gryffindors were still in the halls. He knew that they were all feeling too subdued to misbehave, but he wanted an excuse to work out some of the restlessness that had settled on him since he'd heard the news.

He found only two second-year Slytherin girls out of their dorm, and was perhaps unnecessarily harsh in taking off points. It didn't make him feel any better. He was about to give it up and go back to the common room, when a voice spoke behind him.

"It is not late James, but I would not expect you to be wandering the halls tonight."

He turned, and found Dumbledore had suddenly, silently appeared behind him.

"No Sir, I was just heading back to the common room."

Dumbledore nodded, but James made no move to go. The question that had lingered in his mind all night long finally came spilling out his mouth, If anyone had the answers, it was Dumbledore.

"Sir, why? Why muggles who couldn't even defend themselves?"

The Headmaster clasped his hands behind him, and turned to look out a window at the Hogwart's grounds. "You know that Hogwart's is protected by ancient magic, James?"

"Yes Sir." He followed the old wizard's thought to his own conclusion. "He couldn't reach the muggle borns in Hogwart's, so he attacked them where he could?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"But Sam Hughston, he's just a kid." James pressed. What possible threat was a twelve-year-old to a powerful Dark wizard?

"Often the innocent are the first blood in a war."

"Is it a war, Sir?"

"Yes." Dumbledore said quietly, doing nothing to soften the blow of the simple word.

"These aren't the last deaths, are they?"

"No James, I fear we will see many more before Voldemort is defeated."

"When I get out of Hogwart's..." He began with conviction.  “I’ll round them up.  I could do it now, I know I’m ready.  We’re just sitting here…”

"James, our side will find your talents to be a great asset, once you have finished with school." The Headmaster laid an emphasis on the last part of his sentence. "What you can do for us now is to study hard, to learn all you can, and to be a leader to those in your house."

"I don't think I know how to do that Sir. I've felt so useless today. What do I say?"

"I think it is not so much what you say, but that you are willing to listen. Or just willing to be there for her. She will return the favor when you need her."

James cocked his head. Her? He'd thought they were talking about the other Gryffindor students. "Her?"

Dumbledore gave him an enigmatic smile. "When the battle is raging around you James, you will always have a fixed point of reference. You're a lucky man. Now, don't you think it's time you got back to your common room?"

"Er, yes Sir. Good night Sir."

"Good Night James."

He walked slowly back to the common room, wondering if the Headmaster knew something he didn't, or if he was just, as some said, a bit mad.

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When James came back into the common room, it was empty except for a few students who were not making any noise. He slumpedonto a couchin front of the fire and stared into the flames. Your talents will be a great asset to our side, Dumbledore had said. He wondered what side that was? The Ministry? He planned to work for the Ministry, as an Auror. He thought of the other students at Hogwart's, many of who might, possibly already had, joined the ranks of Voldemort. Would he someday fight against, maybe even kill, the people he sat in classes with? Or they might kill him.

All of it was giving him a headache. He did not know how long he sat there, and he was unaware of the others leaving and going up to bed. It was very late when he heard footsteps behind him and sat up.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone was down here." She turned to go.

"No, don't go! It's okay, I'm just brooding." He said quickly. She hesitated, and then shrugged and came and sat on the couch, on the opposite side from him, tucking her feet under her.

"I couldn't sleep." She said, unnecessarily.

“Me either.”  He admitted.  “Are you all right?”

She shrugged.  “Sure.”

He knew she wasn’t “all right” any more than anyone that night, but he let that pass.  They sat in silence for some minutes, but it was not an uncomfortable silence, just each with their own thoughts.

“Do you know what I thought?”  She said suddenly.  “I mean, when we came downstairs, and I heard Maureen say parents of muggle-born students?”

“You thought it was your family.”  He supplied.  That was obvious, of course.  He would have had the same reaction.

She nodded briefly.  “But then, when she said it was Sam’s parents….”  She trailed off, looking down at her hands.

“What?”  He pressed.

“I was glad.”  She whispered.

He stared at her.  “Of course you were Lily.  You were glad your family was okay.  That’s totally normal.”

“But Sam!  He’s just this poor little boy.  And all I could think about was that I was so glad it wasn’t me.”

This time, thought James, but he didn’t say it aloud, he wasn’t that stupid.  Instead, he moved a little closer to her on the couch, still careful not to touch her.

“Listen Lily, just because you were glad that your parents were okay doesn’t mean you don’t care about Sam.  You can’t feel guilty over that, it’s what you’re supposed to feel!”

He spoke with conviction, but she said nothing and he wasn’t sure if she believed him.  He would have taken her hand, as a gesture of support or something, but he had no idea how she would react.  It was a long time before she spoke again.

“Aren’t you ever afraid Potter?”

His first impulse was the typical male reaction- of course not!  But then he sighed.

“Sure I am.”  He said gruffly.  “My Dad’s an Auror, you know.  I mean, every day he’s dealing with those kind of wizards.  I could never be as brave as him.  And I’m always scared one of them is going to get him.  And then what would I do?”  He finished rhetorically.

“I’m scared that Death Eaters will go after my parents and sister, and it will be all my fault.  They wouldn’t be targets except for me.  I dragged them into all this danger and violence.”

“That’s not true.  You didn’t drag them into anything.  They love you, they’re proud of you!”  He didn’t know that for sure, but he couldn’t imagine how they could not be proud- the first witch in an all muggle family.

“I just wish I knew what was going to happen.”  She finally finished.

“And here I thought you didn’t believe in divination.”  That actually got him a small smile, and he felt like he’s won the quidditch world cup.  “I think sometimes it’s better to not know what’s coming.”

They sat in companionable silence, not really needing to talk.  James closed his eyes- just briefly.  But when he opened tem again, the fire had died, the room was dark, and Lily was asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.  As he smiled, James reminded himself that it might not mean she’d like him tomorrow, but it was a start.