Tapestry

Author Note: Sorry about the long update - the inconvenience of having to work for a living and having to have a beer or two are to blame. Also, I had so many ideas for this chapter that I've divided it into two and the second bit will be up quickly (I hope). And I forgot on the last chapter to wish all my fellow Harmonians a Happy Valentines day - I love you all.

Chapter Twelve

Saturday morning dawned bright and frosty and James had the happy accident of waking up early, realised he didn't have any classes today and went back to sleep. He woke again at a reasonable hour, before noon anyway, and got dressed. The dormitory was already empty by this time and James looked at Richard's bed; it was forlorn and with the tidy, lonely appearance of a bed not slept in for some time. Still, James comforted himself, by the end of the day, with a bit of luck, he could be a little closer to finding out what had happened, and bringing Richard back to his four-poster.

James made his way downstairs and into the Common Room. He found Celesca sat near the window with her friends; she had done something to her hair and was wearing more make-up than normal and looked so lovely that it took James's breath away. She was in huddled conversation with Cassie, and Nicola Boot and Siliana Patterson and Rachel Bevan, no doubt talking about Gryffindor boys with famous fathers. Celesca smiled over at him, and the others gave teasing little waves and swooned mockingly in his direction, before falling about in hysterics. Celesca chastised all of them, while laughing herself, and James gave a silly little wave himself and headed down to pilfer some food from the kitchens.

As he suspected, breakfast was over, but with his robe pockets full of tea cakes and doughnuts James was quite happy wandering around with his impromptu version. With Richard still incapacitated, and Celesca busy with her friends, James found himself rather alone with little to do for the next hour or so, when he and Celesca had agreed to make their jaunt to Hogsmeade. His thoughts about what to do with himself were interrupted by the sudden emergence of Michael from the main doors.

“Jimmy, there you are,” he panted. “I was just coming to get you. You've got to come.”

“Where and why?” said James, alarmed.

“Quidditch pitch,” said Michael. “We're playing five-a-side against some kids from Ravenclaw. We're a man short.”

“I'll grab my stuff and meet you there,” said James. They parted and he sprinted up the stairs towards the Common Room, only just remembering in time to jump the trick step. He flew past Celesca and her friends in to his dorm, changed quickly and came back in a flash.

“You're in a hurry,” said Celesca, as James passed her in the Common Room.

“I'm going down to the Quidditch pitch,” he explained. “Haven't had chance to test this yet.”

He held up the Broomstick Servicing Kit.

“Okay, good luck,” said Celesca. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Fly well.”

James grinned and took flight once again. He was slightly out of breath by the time he reached the Quidditch pitch and went into the changing rooms with calls to hurry up ringing in his ears. He took out his beaten old Firebolt from the broom cupboard; it had been his dad's once and had served him well, but it did need sprucing up. He unhooked the lid of the servicing kit and gave the broom a quick once over. It wasn't much, but it would do for now.

Five-a-side Quidditch was pretty different from normal Quidditch as neither side had a Seeker or any Beaters as only the Quaffle was used and the teams were made up of one Keeper and four Chasers. The game was much faster as a result and quite frenetic as each team tried to wrestle possession from the other. As the regular Gryffindor house team's best Chaser, James was soon racking up the points for his team. He was spurred on the appearance of a gang of girls, amongst them Celesca and her friends, who had made their way into the stands to watch. James was never sure he could impress Celesca with his academic skills but his talents on the Quidditch pitch were pretty hard to beat.

After half an hour or so of hard flying, and with the Gryffindor team so far in the lead it was embarrassing, most of the other players decided to call it a day. James, who always relished any chance to be on his broom, stayed on and flew about on his own. He was half thinking about bringing out the Snitch and testing his Seeking skills when he heard a rush of air behind him. He ducked as someone on a fast broom flew right at him, pulling away only at the last minute.

“Hey - you could have taken my head off!” he cried at the back of the newcomer.

“Good job you were paying attention then, wasn't it?”

“Celesca! I didn't know you liked flying,” said James, marvelling at seeing her in the air.

“What - I suppose you didn't think I would be any good on a broom because I'm a girl and I like books?” said Celesca, smirking.

“No, I…well, yeah, actually,” said James.

“Typical boy,” said Celesca. “Fancy a race? The loser buys lunch up in Hogsmeade.”

“What broom have you got?” said James, he edged closer to Celesca in mid-air. “Wow! A ShockWave! That's the number one broom according to Quidditch Quarterly. You really do like to fly.”

“I'll give you a head start, if you like,” Celesca teased. “I know how much you hate to lose.”

“I'll take my chances,” said James, grinning.

They flew to one end of the Quidditch pitch, lining up either side of the fifty foot hoops.

“Ready?” asked Celesca.

“On three?” James suggested. Celesca nodded in reply. “Okay - 1-2-3!”

Celesca shot off like a dart. James, from his position considerably behind, saw that she really did fly well. The broom was good but she was a natural. She even mocked James's slower pace by doing a few spins as she reached the other end, a good five seconds before James finally pulled up.

“In your own time, babe,” Celesca teased. “If you'd taken any longer to get here I might have started to decompose.”

“Why didn't you say you were such a good flier?” James asked, pulling up beside her. “You could be on the Quidditch team if your handling skills are as good as your flying.”

“I suppose it never came up,” said Celesca. “I'm not that much into Quidditch. I like watching you play - I've never missed a game of yours - but I don't often come to the matches between the other houses. I just like to fly.”

“And you're really good at it,” said James, totally impressed. “Who taught you?”

“I learned from my favourite player,” she said coyly.

“Who's that?” asked James. “Magnus Ekesson? Jimmy Nuihartd? Connor Flynn?”

“No, a little known Chaser called James Potter,” said Celesca. “He's an excellent flier. Lot's of potential, just needs to be shaped right.”

“Don't make fun of me,” said James.

“I'm not,” said Celesca, her face dropping as she realised she may have gone too far. “I've watched every game you've played; I've studied how you fly. You stand out because you have so much more grace and elegance than anyone else. I know I might be a little biased but it's true. I've even - er - spied on you when you've been training, too.”

“You have?” asked James, grinning. “You really were stalking me, weren't you?”

“Well, only a little bit,” said Celesca. “Nothing unhealthy, but just enough to get me by.”

James and Celesca flew down slowly and returned their brooms to the shed. By this time the stadium was deserted and they were able to enjoy a nice, peaceful, arm-in-arm stroll back up the hard lawns towards the castle. Inevitably, the conversation quickly turned towards their little excursion.

“Right, you have to tell me now how we're supposed to slip into Hogsmeade unnoticed,” said Celesca briskly.

“It's very simple,” said James. “But it'll be more dramatic for me to show you rather than tell you. This is what we'll do - you go up to the third floor and wait by the statue of the one-eyed witch. I'll meet you there in five minutes.”

“Five whole minutes?” said Celesca with a sufficient amount of melodrama. “How am I going to survive that long?”

“Just get going,” said James, smirking.

While Celesca went one way, James sprinted up the main staircase, following it around until he reached Gryffindor Tower. Once inside his dorm, he checked that there was no-one else about before delving into his trunk for two of his favourite possessions. His father had given them both to him for his first Christmas, saying it was a rites-of-passage sort of thing. James didn't entirely understand this, but what he did understand was the value of a moving map of Hogwarts and the cover of an Invisibility Cloak to explore it.

In no time James was turning onto the third floor corridor and meeting Celesca, waiting dutifully beside the statue but looking perturbed at the one-eyed hag staring at her.

“I really don't like this,” she said, pointing covertly at the statue and whispering as though afraid it would hear her.

“Don't worry, we'll be away from it soon,” said James.

“So now can you reveal this big surprise to me?”

“I suppose,” said James. “Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you.”

“James…”

“Please? It'll be great.”

“Fine,” said Celesca.

James waited until she had closed her eyes and waved his hand in front of her face to make sure she wasn't peeking. Quick as a flash, he threw the Invisibility Cloak over himself, making sure it was covering every inch.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

Celesca did as she was told; the stunned look on her face as she looked right through James and down the corridor was hilarious and he had to bite his lip to keep the laugh in.

“James? Where are you? This isn't funny.”

James disagreed and watched as Celesca looked behind the statue and under the tapestry opposite to try and find him. He moved around behind her and whispered in her ear.

“Boo!”

Celesca jumped about three feet in the air and James couldn't help but laugh this time. He pulled the hood of the cloak down so that his disembodied head floated in mid-air.

“That wasn't funny,” said Celesca, clutching at her heart with one hand and whacking at James's invisible form with the other. Her annoyance turned quickly to wonder as she looked at James's surprise. “Wow - you've got an Invisibility Cloak!”

“Yeah, isn't it cool?” said James.

“Where did you get it? They're really rare and very expensive.”

“It was Dad's,” James explained. “He said it was a hallowed possession that was given to him by his father, so he gave it to me. I have to keep it to give to my son. I'm not telling you that so that you think…you know - we'll have…”

“I know what you meant,” said Celesca. She smiled before adding, “Though it would make a great present for our first born.”

A pleasant chill swept over James as he imagined what it would be like having a family with Celesca.

“Are you sure we should still go?” asked Celesca. “We might get caught leaving?”

“Not a chance,” said James. He whipped out the old piece of parchment and tapped it once with his wand. The map of Hogwarts spread out like an oozing ink splodge on the page.

“Now what in the world is that?” asked Celesca, looking at the labelled dots of people moving about the school.

“Another of my Dad's excellent hand-me-downs,” said James. “It's an enchanted map; shows the entire school and the village and everyone in both. No-one's moving nearby. Let's go.”

James tapped the statue with his wand, whispered `Dissendium' then stepped back as it swung outwards. He ushered Celesca into the secret passage and followed quickly, waiting until the statue had closed fully over the entrance before lighting his wand and leading the way.

“Is there room for two under there?” asked Celesca, huskily.

James lifted the cloak, threw his arm around Celesca's shoulders and pulled her close as the cloak fell back over the both of them.

“How cosy is this?” said Celesca approvingly.

“I like it,” said James. “It's certainly the best use I've found for it so far.”

They made their way along the winding tunnel until finally coming up over a shallow ridge and finding themselves in the musty storeroom of Honeydukes. James tried to give Celesca a load of Chocolate Frogs but she was having none of it.

“We'll use the cloak to get out of here but I won't have you stealing anything,” she said. “It's not right.”

“Just one Frog?” he asked. “They're good.”

“No, come on.”

They crept slowly up the dusty wooden stairs in single file in case anyone came down unexpectedly. This made the trip longer and more awkward than James thought it needed to be but Celesca was pacified so he didn't complain. They had to wait for the right moment behind the counter as the shopkeeper was dealing with a particularly annoying customer who was asking ridiculous questions about the dangers of Peppermint Imps and Dr Wally's Jawbreakers. Eventually the customer scooted away and James dragged Celesca quickly around the back of the counter, through the hatch and out the door before anybody noticed anything.

Hogsmeade village was surprisingly quiet for a Saturday afternoon. James suspected the cold weather had kept most people indoors; the ground still retained a pale frosty sheen while the grassy verges either side of the long, winding path were stiff and unmoving despite a mild breeze. Celesca looked like she was expecting to be caught any moment and cast suspicious glances towards any sudden movement or sound in the vicinity. Once outside the Three Broomsticks, James checked that no-one was around to see and quickly pulled off the Invisibility Cloak.

“Shall we go in?” he asked.

“Yes, and quickly,” said Celesca. “It's freezing out here.”

They were met by a blast of warmth as they pushed open the door to the pub and stepped inside. It was bustling and crammed full of people and James spent the first few moments of their visit looking around for any teachers who might have fancied a spot of lunch in the village. Luckily, they saw no familiar faces and made their way across to the bar. A gorgeous young girl was serving two middle-aged warlocks, who were drooling in to their tankards of ale and staring at the low cut of her top. She took their money, clocked sight of James and came over, beaming widely.

“James, how lovely to see you,” she said. “Slipped out again, have you?”

“Hi, Vicky,” said James. “You're not going to tell on me, are you?”

“No, of course not,” she said. “Get my cutest little cousin in trouble? Not a chance.”

Victoire Weasley was as stunningly beautiful as her mother and James had always had a bit of a crush on her. She had the odd characteristic of a voice that retained some of the French pronunciation from her mother but all the dialect of her father. It was an odd combination that took strangers some time to get used to, once they'd adjusted to her flawless looks and ruler-straight, flowing, fiery red hair.

“We're in for a bit of lunch,” said James.

“Ah, and who's this?” Victoire purred. “Finally been snapped up, little Jimmy?”

“Hi, I'm Celesca, James's girlfriend.”

Celesca, who was usually a little backwards in coming forwards, thrust herself across James to shake Victoire's hand. James couldn't help thinking Celesca wanted to mark herself out as the dominant female, as though threatened by his cousin.

“Nice to meet you,” said Victoire cautiously, as though picking up on Celesca's muted hostility like it was some kind of subtle scent. She turned to James. “My mother always did say you had a bit of a weakness for blondes.”

“Your mum always does talk a bit much,” said James, feeling himself blush slightly. “She and Uncle Bill are well I hope.”

“Fine, last time I saw them,” said Victoire, smiling. “So, what can I get you?”

“Two hot, foaming Butterbeers,” James announced. “And a menu, please.”

“Why don't you find a seat?” said Victoire. “I'll bring them over.”

“Thanks,” said James, before guiding Celesca away before she could protest. They found a secluded seat in a booth on one side of the pub which afforded a good view of the door, just in case anyone they knew came in. Celesca hadn't taken her eyes off Victoire and watched her all the way from the bar as she came over and placed their drinks in front of them.

“Here you go,” she said. “Two Butterbeers.”

“Cheers, Vic,” said James. “What food is good today?”

“Why, it's all good, Jim,” said Victoire with a brilliant smile. “But the mixed grill platter is excellent and a reasonable price.”

“I don't like grilled food,” said Celesca abruptly. “I think I'll have a salad.”

“I'll come back once you've had a chance to look at the menu,” said Victoire. She raised her eyebrows at James before sweeping away.

“What was all that about?” said James.

“All what?” said Celesca.

“All that with Victoire,” said James. “If I didn't know better I'd say you didn't like her.”

“She's all over you, James,” snapped Celesca.

“Hardly,” said James. “And besides, she's my cousin.”

“I don't care, I didn't like it,” said Celesca. She shot another dagger-laden look towards Victoire's back across the pub.

“I can't see why you would have a problem with her,” said James.

“Well let's see,” said Celesca, rounding on him. “She's gorgeous, for a start, she clearly fancies you as well, and don't pretend you weren't looking at her cleavage - though that's only half your fault `cause she doesn't seem too shy about showing it off.”

James found it hard to disagree when Victoire was bent over a nearby table accepting tips off yet another group of ogle-eyed punters.

“I wasn't looking at her like that,” James argued. “She's my cousin. That's sick.”

“She's still a girl,” said Celesca.

“Look, Cel, the only girl I want to look at is you,” said James. “You might not believe that, or might not think I mean it, but it doesn't matter - the only girl in my life is you. The only one I want to eye-up is sitting right opposite me. I'll make you believe it if I have to hex it into you.”

“Do you really mean that?” said Celesca sweetly.

“Of course” James replied.

“Then stop staring at your cousin's boobs!” Celesca hissed. She looked livid for a few moments but then her mouth creaked as though she were trying to hold back a grin. “I mean it.”

Celesca ordered their lunch as she wanted to restrict the contact between James and Victoire to as little as possible. She did relent to some extent by allowing James to accept Victoire's recommendation of the mixed grill, which he was grateful for as it was fantastically tasty. As they ate, the conversation eventually turned to the main reason for their escape from school.

“We have to start thinking about how we're going to contact you're aunt,” said Celesca.

“I was thinking about that,” said James. “I thought I could ask Vicky if we could use the upstairs room. Don't look like that - there's a fire up there and it'd make it much easier.”

“You're right, I suppose,” said Celesca mutinously. “What are you going to ask Mrs Weasley when you speak to her?”

“I'm not sure,” said James. “I don't want to make it obvious.”

“Just start by saying what happened to Richard,” said Celesca. “Say you don't think it was a natural creature and ask if there are any wizards registered as beetles.”

“Sounds good,” said James. “Do you think I should say anything about her and Dad?”

“I thought you were going to talk to Professor Longbottom about that?”

“I am, but I really want to know what went on,” said James.

“Can I ask you something about that?” asked Celesca. James nodded as his mouth was full. “Have you given any thought to what might happen when you get to the bottom of this?”

“What do you mean?”

“James you are in the midst of opening up a potentially destructive can of worms,” said Celesca. “Before you go diving headlong in I think you should consider what it'll do to the people involved, or what you want it to do?”

“I don't want it to do anything,” said James, with less conviction than he expected. “I just want to find out the truth.”

“But just doing that could cause something to happen,” said Celesca. “You need to think how this will affect you dad and your aunt. And what about their spouses? Have you stopped to think about your mum in all this?”

James felt as though he'd been hit by a powerful curse. His fork stopped half way between his mouth and his plate as Celesca's words were quite enough to digest. Mum? He hadn't even thought about her. In his eagerness to get to the bottom of the mystery of dad and Aunt Hermione he had barely given a thought to what any revelations would do to her, and Al and Lily in the process.

“I - I haven't even thought about it that way,” said James eventually.

“I think you should before you start asking difficult questions,” said Celesca. “Speak to Professor Longbottom, but speak to yourself before you go to much further. Ask yourself what it is you want from all of this.”

James was considerably more subdued for the rest of lunch. His plans for answering all the questions in his mind had included finding out all the facts and then presenting them to all parties concerned. The outcome of that hadn't entered his thinking; at no point had he considered what he wanted his delving to accomplish and he had given equally as little thought to the reactions of those connected with it. Now that Celesca had mentioned these oversights, however, he could think of nothing else.

At least with the end of the meal came the necessity of action and James's thoughts were firmly brought back to the job in hand. As Victoire came to collect their plates James whispered the request to use the upstairs parlour. Victoire's eyes twinkled between James and Celesca and though the former supposed he could imagine what his cousin thought was the reason behind the request he saw no need to correct her and raise awkward questions.

Victoire showed James and Celesca upstairs and left them alone with a knowing look. The little parlour was perfect; well proportioned and accessed only by one door, which was now locked, it provided the ideal location to conduct a covert conversation.

“So, what now?” asked Celesca. “How does this work?”

“Like Floo travelling,” said James. “Only difference is that you mention a person's name and you access the fire connected with them.”

“But that could be her home or work,” said Celesca.

“It doesn't matter,” said James. “It goes to where that person is.”

James took a handful of green powder from a bowl on the fireplace, threw it into the flames and called out the name of Hermione Weasley. The fire glowed a pale viridian for a moment before James, somewhat tentatively, placed his head into them. He felt the nauseating sensation of his world spinning around; slowly it began to return to focus and James found himself staring into a large office in which the air of authority was tangible. Sitting behind a desk, her nose buried behind a long roll of parchment was Aunt Hermione. She looked up as her flames ignited and stared a James for a moment as though he was an alien being.

“James! What in the world!” she shrieked.

“Hi, Aunt,” said James with his trademark cheeky grin.

Aunt Hermione leapt up and crossed the room in only a few strides. James's attitude changed instantly as the thunderous look on his aunt's face sent waves of anxiety coursing through his body. In a move he expected about as much as her hexing him, Aunt Hermione took James by his shoulders and pulled him bodily through the fire. He heard a little yelp from Celesca as his legs and torso disappeared from the Three Broomsticks, but the next thing he knew was the cold, hard of the tiled floor and Aunt Hermione's blazing eyes boring in to him.

“You'd better have a good reason for this,” said Aunt Hermione strictly. “I had all but the Headmaster's fire at Hogwarts taken off the Floo network so I know you aren't there.”

“I was at the Three Broomsticks,” said James sheepishly.

“During term time? And not on a designated weekend? You're father would kill you if he knew. How did you even get out?”

“An old map of my dad's,” said James. “You won't tell on me, will you?”

“He gave you his old map?” asked Aunt Hermione.

“You know about the map?” asked James.

“If we keep asking each other questions we won't get anywhere,” said Aunt Hermione, lightly. “Your dad used to use that map when we were in school. I always said he should have disposed of it. I'm amazed he gave it to you; it's almost as if he wanted you to get into mischief.”

“I'm not in mischief,” said James defensively.

“Then are you going to tell me what you are doing sticking your head through my fire?”

“I wanted to ask you something and I didn't want to wait for a letter reply,” said James.

“This sounds interesting,” said Aunt Hermione. “Go on.”

“My friend got bitten by something a couple of days ago,” James began. “He's really ill. A couple of my teachers think it could be poison or Dark Magic.”

Aunt Hermione's interest was taut now. “By your tone I'm guessing you have an opinion of your own.”

“Yeah, well, me and Celesca had a bit of a wild idea,” said James.

Aunt Hermione chuckled. “Just like your dad and me. Never satisfied to let the adults do the work we always thought we knew better and got involved. So, what's your theory?”

James shrugged off the temptation to question his aunt about her relationship with his dad, which was peeking through his resistance, and ploughed on.

“I thought it might have been an Animagus,” he said.

Far from laughing him all the way back to Hogwarts, as he was half expecting, Aunt Hermione looked shrewdly at James. It buoyed him to carry on.

“I was just wondering,” he said, “if that would be possible?”

“Of course it's possible,” said Aunt Hermione. “But all Animagi have to be registered. We keep track of them and we'd know where they were.”

“Would you be able to check?”

“Naturally,” said Aunt Hermione. “What kind of -”

She was interrupted by the sound of voices outside the door. James recognised one of them and his heart jumped into his throat.

“Quick, get under my desk,” said Aunt Hermione desperately. “And stay silent - if you make a noise down there I won't be able to help you.”

James ducked quickly under the large mahogany desk and in good time too; the door to the office was knocked once and opened without an invitation.

“Hello, Harry, what can I do for you?” said Aunt Hermione.

James held his breath and waited.

“Nothing so formal,” said Dad, breezily. “Ron sent me.”

“Ron? Is something wrong?” asked Aunt Hermione, concerned.

“No, nothing like that,” said Dad. “He asked me to tell you he has to work through lunch. I told him he shouldn't have taken Wednesday off to watch the Cannons but he wouldn't listen. He asked me if I wouldn't mind taking his place, assuming you're pliable, of course.”

“Are you offering to take me to lunch?”

“We can go down to Rossellini's,” said Dad. “I know how you like to go Italian at meal times.”

James didn't like the tones of either of the voices speaking. There was such a loaded characteristic in the flirty, sultry words that it was all James could do to ignore it.

“It'll be a pleasure,” said Aunt Hermione. “You'll be a gentleman and pay, yes?”

“Naturally,” said Dad.

“Give me five minutes to get myself sorted here and I'll meet you in the Atrium,” said Aunt Hermione.

“Five minutes,” said Dad. “If you're late you'll buy the first drinks.”

The door clicked shut and Aunt Hermione's face appeared over the ridge of the desk.

“You heard that I have to go,” she said. “Get yourself back to the Three Broomsticks and promise me you'll go right back to Hogwarts.”

“I will,” said James. He made his way back to the fire and took a handful of Floo powder. He turned to leave when Aunt Hermione suddenly called out.

“James, about this Animagus you're chasing,” she said. “You didn't say what creature it was.”

“It was a beetle, Aunt,” said James. “A black beetle.”

James waited long enough to register the astonishment on Aunt Hermione's face, which confirmed some suspicions which had been sneaking into his mind, before throwing the powder into the flames and spinning back to Celesca with more doubts in his mind than he was comfortable carrying.

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