Tapestry

Chapter Five

James woke slowly on Boxing Day. For a moment he felt disorientated in an unfamiliar bed, but soon all the thoughts and concerns which had plagued his mind before sleep surfaced again. He rose and dressed in the pale light streaming in from the little window, feeling that perhaps he shouldn't have said anything to Dad. He hadn't considered last night that there might be a perfectly valid reason why he and Aunt Hermione were no longer intimate and, if that were the case, it was probably none of his business. Perhaps it was an old wound that James had now forced open. They had known each other for years and James wasn't privy to the details of all their time together; the more he thought on it the more he wished he hadn't gotten involved at all.

But how could he have simply ignored it? Hermione was his favourite Aunt and the idea of her being unhappy upset him. And Dad, too, looked moved when James suggested Hermione didn't look right. There was real emotion there that James could rarely remember seeing in his father and he couldn't help but think that if both were unhappy then it might be for the same reason. Whatever that reason was, it made sense that it could explain their distance from each other, though James couldn't guess at what might be the cause of it all.

His worries were not eased, however, at the sight of Mum, Dad, Lily and Albus pretty much ready to go when he made it downstairs. Far from the hearty breakfast he was expecting, James was teased by Uncle Ron for being as lazy as Dad by staying in bed until noon. Dad, James noticed uncomfortably, seemed eager to leave and mumbled some excuse about work he had to attend to. Aunt Hermione looked as strained and sad as she had the night before and though James didn't sense that there had been any sort of row between them the tension was at its most palpable. Mum's excuse of needing to get home to ready the house for visitors was at least believable and served to stave off difficult questions.

After a quick cup of tea Mum announced that they really ought to be getting home. Dad shook hands with Uncle Ron but in the chaotic melee that was everyone scrambling for coats and car seats he managed to slip away without a word to Aunt Hermione, a fact not missed by James. They went out to the car and were just saying their last goodbyes when suddenly Uncle Ron cried out that they hadn't picked up their presents. James was sequestered to run back inside and fetch them.

“We don't want to forget your books either,” said Aunt Hermione. James hadn't heard her coming in behind him and jumped at her voice. They both went into the study where James found the invaluable volumes sitting in a neat pile on the desk.

“How will I get these in the car without anyone seeing?” James asked, nervously. “I don't want Mum and Dad to know.”

“How about I just have them waiting for you back at home?” said Aunt Hermione, her eyes twinkling. She swept her wand over the books and they vanished. “It'll be our little secret.”

“Thanks,” said James with relieved grin. “I'll take good care of them.”

“Just think of it as a young version of me tutoring you,” said Aunt Hermione. “And if you ever start slacking they'll be there to remind you to get off your behind and work!”

James snickered as Aunt Hermione led the way from the study. They collected the presents between them and went out to the car. Dad was stood waiting at the open boot; Aunt Hermione placed her stack into the car, passed the most fleeting of glances and, James was glad to see, a little smile to Dad then moved aside to let James deposit his cargo. When Aunt Hermione was out of earshot, Dad spoke quietly.

“How are you this morning?”

“I'm okay, said James. “But you look tired.”

“I didn't get much sleep, what with one thing or another,” said Dad, giving the swiftest of glances towards Aunt Hermione's retreating form.

“I understand,” said James.

“I knew you would,” said Dad, smiling. “You're quite perceptive. I've never noticed before.”

“I'm full of surprises,” said James.

“But listen, James,” said Dad seriously. “This isn't to be mentioned again. You aren't to speak of this to anybody. Don't repeat to anyone else what you said last night. Promise me.”

There was a power and command in Dad's voice that James associated with the mythical, Dark Wizard-slaying, Head Auror that he truly was - an image of his father he had never before encountered. This short sentence carried with it enough impetus to convince James that he never wanted to meet it again.

“I promise, I won't say anything,” said James.

“To anyone?”

“To anyone,” James repeated.

“Good boy,” said Dad. He gave James a firm one armed hug and kissed him on the head. “You're a good boy and I'm proud of you. Now go and say goodbye to your Aunt and Uncle.”

James obeyed. Uncle Ron shook his hand vigorously before Aunt Hermione gave him a tender, affectionate hug that James thought she held onto for a few moments longer than she ought, but he didn't complain. He felt they both shared a need for some sort of reassurance and the hug provided it. They said their final farewells, Rose called that she would see James at school, then he entered the car and Dad drove off with several parting blasts on the horn.

Back at home there was little time to dwell on the events of the past day or so. Mum went into hyper tense mode and insisted her children help Ludey to give the entire downstairs one final clean. It was hard to be focused on anything other than little bits of dirt when you were face down in the carpet with an overbearing mother standing over you. Dad was acting normally, too; his `important work' turned out to be little more than sending a few owls out to people he was meeting back at work the next day. Once this little task was done he announced he was popping out to the village pub to wish season's greetings to his friends there. Mum looked a little miffed but was too engrossed by her work to say anything.

At around tea time voices were heard outside, along with the scrape of footfalls on the gravel path, carried through a window flung open by James to dilute the heavy smell of furniture polish in the living room. Several voices chattering and laughing grew steadily louder until finally the front door opened and their owners entered the house. Dad led the way, followed by Nan and Granddad Weasley.

“Look who I found in the Crow's Feathers?” Dad announced jovially.

“Nana!” called Lily, before running to Mrs Weasley for a big hug.

“Careful, Mum, you don't want to do your back in again,” said Mum walking up to Nana Weasley and giving her a kiss. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ginny,” said Nana Weasley. She hugged Lily again. “And I think I can just about pick this one up. But not that handsome young man. Come here and give your Granny a kiss then.”

James obliged awkwardly, wishing afterwards (as he always did) that there was a polite way to ask his grandmother to get a shave.

“Oh, let me sit down,” said Nana Weasley. “Why you had to get a place so far away from civilisation, I don't know, Ginny. It is looking lovely, though.”

“Thanks,” said Mum, looking vindicated. “How did you manage to end up in our village pub, then?”

“Well,” said Granddad, “we thought we'd take in a little stroll before we came up to see you. Silverton is so quaint and picturesque, even more so covered in snow. But it is cold out so we thought we'd warm up with a spot of lunch in the inn down in the village. Lovely pint of ale in there, isn't it, Harry?”

“That's why I wanted to live nearby,” Dad joked. “Got to have a good quality local, though that isn't the sort of thing the estate agent will tell you.”

Dad and Granddad laughed.

“Thanks for the fudge, Nan,” said James. “You didn't have to make such a big tin, though. It must have taken ages.”

“Concern for his Nana, too,” his grandma replied fondly. She turned to Mum. “You are raising a good boy, there. It was no trouble, James. You're a growing boy, after all, and I've not got much to do these days.”

“Well, in that case I'll be expecting a weekly delivery when I'm back at school,” said James cheekily. This time it was Mum and Nana who enjoyed a little giggle.

Dad opened a bottle of Rosmerta's Best Mead, '98 - apparently a very good year. He said that they might as well continue what they'd started in the Crow's Feathers, now that they were on a roll. While he and Granddad sipped on oversized glasses, Albus recounted in painstaking detail all he could recall of his first six months at Hogwarts. Mum and Grandma were the most captive listeners and James thought they humoured his brother well, knowing that they'd both been through this before when he himself first started at school.

“James? Will you help me with this Karaoke Machine?” asked Lily. “I don't know how to set it up.”

“That depends,” said James. “Are you going to sing now?”

“Probably,” said Lily. “That's why I want to get it working.”

“Then no,” said James, teasingly. “I've got Al nattering in one ear and if you start butchering songs in the other my head might explode.”

“Don't be so mean,” said Lily. “Mum says I sing like an angel.”

“I thought she said mandrake,” said James.

“What's a mandrake?”

“Oh never mind. Come on, let's see how this works. But please try and sing quietly.”

Gran and Granddad Weasley stayed for dinner but left shortly afterwards as they were old and needed to go to bed earlier. That was the excuse they gave in any case. Lily regaled the rest of the family with her own take on some of the big hits of the day and James went up to bed when he'd taken just about as much of it as he thought he could. After all the strange and worrying events of the past two days James was grateful for the solitude of his bedroom.

This room was, naturally, his favourite room in the house. The snow-covered paddock glistened silvery white under the moonlight as James crossed to the window to draw his curtains. He crossed to his walk-in wardrobe to change for bed; he had always thought this feature slightly feminine and a little pretentious but it was a necessary accessory for someone with so many outfits to choose from. The bed was a handsome, oak four-poster not to dissimilar from his bunk at Hogwarts and the familiarity was a comfort in the midst of a home life that James felt was in flux. He searched under his headrest for his book, volume two in The Adventures of Agent Cajun and the Mexican Misfits, and read until his eyes drooped and he fell asleep.

Over the next few days, things quietened down and got back to normal. Dad was back in work and tended to leave early and not return till it was dark. Mum played host to the comings and goings of various friends and relatives but the number of visitors and the time they stayed grew less with each passing day. Three days after Christmas saw James in the living room finally finishing his Mimbulus Mimbletonia picture for Herbology. He was feeling smug and self-satisfied having completed all his homework with a couple of days still left until he had to return to school. Aunt Hermione's books had proven to be worth their weight in gold with so many tips, pointers and extra notes, which he would never have thought of himself, that James had re-written both his entire Transfiguration and Alchemy essays to fit them in. It was the kind of thing both Aunt Hermione and Celesca would have done, and James felt honoured to be considering himself in the same company.

Outside in the garden Lily and Albus were playing in the snow. There was a swing hanging from a bough of a tree outside the window and they were taking it in turns to swing as high as they could before jumping off and landing in the snow. James was surprised they hadn't hurt themselves but it seemed that the snow was thick enough to cushion their landings. Later he felt he should have known something was going to go wrong.

It happened in several, confused stages. Firstly, as he was doodling on his sketch pad, James heard an almighty crack from in the garden. Looking up he saw the swing, and the bough holding it, were gone. He jumped up just as Albus came skidding into the house.

“MUM!” he yelled. “Come quick! James, help!”

So desperate were Albus's calls that James didn't even stop to ask what was wrong. He nearly collided with Mum as she rushed to reach the garden first. Initially it looked as if nothing was wrong and James had a fleeting thought that maybe this was a joke Albus was playing. One look at his face, whiter than the snow, dispelled this thought.

“Lily,” Mum said to Albus. “Where is Lily?”

“Under there,” said Albus, pointing to a large mound of snow a few feet away.

“LILY!” Mum cried out before racing over to the snow and clawing at it. She kept calling her name over and over as she pulled the snow away, but it was so deep she'd never be able to reach her. Such was her panic that she was incapable of doing anything else.

“James, do something!” Albus called.

With only a quick thought about the consequences, James whipped his wand out. “Mum! Out of the way!”

Mum moved a few feet when she saw James, wand raised pointing at the snow.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” he cried.

The snow rose up in a big, white cloud. Sodden wet and obscured by the fallen branch was Lily's bright red hair. Mum scooped her out and James let the snow fall to the ground with a thud. Tossing his wand aside he raced over to Mum who was cradling Lily and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Mum, give her to me,” said James. When Mum didn't comply he wrenched his sister free. She wasn't breathing. Without thinking James gave Lily mouth-to-mouth; to his immense relief she coughed up a throat-full of snow right into his face. She coughed a few more times then started to cry. Mum snatched her up and hugged her hard. James slumped back, drained.

Mum scooped Lily up and took her into the house with Albus following close behind. James's heart was beating so hard he didn't think he dared get up in case it exploded. It was only when Albus called out that James was wanted inside that he actually moved.

Mum clobbered him with a hug that Grandma Weasley would have been proud of as soon as he entered Lily's bedroom, where Mum had taken her. She sobbed hard on his shoulder for several minutes before she was calm enough to speak.

“James you were incredible,” she sniffed. “You saved your sister's life. If you hadn't been here I don't know what would have happened. We need to get Dad home. You'll have to write him a note and send it quick, my hands are shaking too much.”

Mum kissed him on the cheek and he turned away, taking the stairs two at a time before reaching the living room. He grabbed his sketch pad, scribbled a hasty note and stuffed it awkwardly into the pouch of Hedrill, the family owl.

“Fly fast,” he whispered to the snowy bird before opening the window and letting it soar off into the sky. No sooner had he closed the window than there was a burst of flame from the fire and a letter came zooming out of the hearth. James plucked it out of the air, his heart dropping as he read where it was from.

Mr, E. Macmillan,

Improper Use of Magic Office

To Mr J Potter,

We have detected the illegal usage of the Wingardium Leviosa Charm at your residence at 3.41pm this afternoon. As you know, it is an offence to use magic whilst under the age of seventeen. This breech carries with it a suspension from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry under Section 12 of the Misuse of Magic Act, Fourteenth Amendment. This suspension is effective immediately and your case will be reviewed to determine the length of this sentence. We will contact you with our decision in due course.

Yours &c,

E. Macmillan.

For a moment James stared at the words trying to absorb what they meant. Just as comprehension began to dawn there was a swishing sound nearby and Aunt Hermione materialised in the living room.

“Aunt Hermione?” said James, so surprised by her sudden appearance that he had jumped a foot backwards.

“James, are you alright? What's happened?” she asked seriously.

“I, er-”

“I received a note saying you were using magic,” said Aunt Hermione. “I knew something serious must have happened for you to do that. I know how much Harry would have drilled it into you to not use magic.”

James explained quickly what had happened with Lily. Aunt Hermione went very pale.

“Is she alright? Where is she?” she asked.

“With Mum upstairs,” said James. Without another word Aunt Hermione swept to the stairs. James stood rooted to the spot until she returned several minutes later.

“She doesn't look too good,” said Aunt Hermione, looking worried. “And neither do you, James. Your Mum told me how good you were. You did well to react so quickly.”

“Well?” cried James, incredulously. “They've suspended me from Hogwarts! That's hardly doing well.”

“What?” asked Aunt Hermione. James showed her the letter; her expression changed from one of pale concern to one of red anger faster than a set of traffic lights. “This is ridiculous. Don't worry, James, I'll sort this out.”

“How will you do that?” asked James, feeling hopeful in spite of the facts.

“I'm the head of Magical Law,” said Aunt Hermione. “I wrote that Amendment and I don't recall adding a passage about scaring students with threats of suspension. There is special provision for using magic in special circumstances. Don't fret, I'll deal with this. I'll have Ernie Macmillan for this. I'm going to St Mungo's to get a Healer sent out here pronto. Look after your brother.”

She kissed James on the head and Disapparated. James was feeling a little overwhelmed by all that had happened but had no time to dwell on it. A little, barely audible sniff behind him drew his attention. He turned to see Albus curled up against the wall in the passage.

“Lily better be alright,” he sniffled. “If anything happens to her, it's my fault. All my fault.”

“How is your fault?” asked James.

“I was with her,” said Albus. “She's my little sister and I should have looked after her.”

He looked on the verge of tears so James went and sat next to him and awkwardly put his arm around him.

“It wasn't your fault,” said James in his best sympathetic voice. “The branch snapped, it was an accident. It could have been you on the swing at the time just as easily as it was Lily. You did nothing wrong; in fact, it was good you came to get Mum and me rather than trying to help her yourself. You did the right thing.”

“You were great,” said Albus quietly. “I'd have never thought to do that. People like you because you're good at stuff like that. I know I get on at you sometimes but your reputation is well earned. I just wanna be like that.”

“Shut up, don't get all mushy on me, you big girl,” said James teasingly. He grabbed Albus in a headlock and ruffled his hair.

“Lily will be okay, though, won't she?” asked Albus.

“Of course she will,” said James confidently. “Mum will look after her and Aunt Hermione is going to send a Healer to see her. She'll be fine.”

Albus looked convinced at his brother's words. They got up and while Albus went to get some Christmas cake, James sat on the couch and waited for the next thing to happen. That took around ten minutes to arrive as the fire burst to life and a green-robed Healer span out of the fireplace.

“I understand there has been an accident involving a little girl?” the Healer asked.

“Yes,” said James. “My sister. She's upstairs, I'll show you the way.”

James led the Healer up to Mum who took over and explained what had happened. James went back into the living room wondering what to do with himself and feeling a tad useless. He was about to go to his room when another swishing sound announced yet another new arrival. This time it was Dad.

“What's happened?” he said frantically. “Where's Lily?”

“She's upstairs with Mum and a Healer who's just arrived,” James explained. “How did you find out so quickly?”

“I was delivering an important memo to a colleague when I heard raised voices in the Misuse of Magic department,” said Dad. “I could hear Aunt Hermione yelling at someone, really laying into them. I went to see what was going on and she told me what happened. Are you alright?”

“A bit tired, to be honest,” said James.

“I don't doubt it,” said Dad. “Lily's in her room I suppose?”

James nodded. Dad didn't even bother with the stairs, deciding to simply Apparate up there. This time James did retreat to his room slumping down on the bed and trying to relax.

Time passed slowly. The house was so quiet, an unusual stillness that didn't suit it. James couldn't settle to anything; his mind was plagued will all sorts of negative thoughts about school and Lily's health that he could focus on nothing else. Eventually he did manage to doze off, only to woken by a loud hoot as Hedrill sailed past his window on the way to hunt. It was dark by now and the candles had been lit in James's bedroom. He was about to check the time when there was a small knock at the door.

“Come in,” James called.

The door opened slowly and Lily entered carrying a large tray.

“I didn't think you'd be asleep,” she said, coming in.

“Why are you up? Shouldn't you be in bed?” asked James.

“No, I'm okay, I've been up for ages,” she said brightly. “That Healer gave me some potion and I feel right as rain. I didn't think you'd eaten so I brought you some pumpkin pie, `cause I know how much you like it, and some biscuits and butterbeer. Midnight feast?”

She was looking so earnestly at him that he couldn't refuse. Besides, his stomach had rumbled approvingly at the mention of pumpkin pie.

“Come on, jump up then,” he replied.

Lily passed the tray to James and climbed onto the bed. They divided the pie and biscuits and James, eating for the first time in hours, realised how hungry he was. They finished eating and Lily fished around in her pocket and pulled out James's wand.

“I thought you might be wanting this back,” she said, passing it to him. “Al picked it up after you threw it away.”

James pocketed his wand. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Yeah, I'm alright,” said Lily. She seemed to be thinking deeply, looking down at her feet. When she spoke again her voice was very small, much unlike her usual tones. “I knew you'd save me.”

“What?”

“I knew, when I was under the snow,” she said. “Everything went dark and I was scared. But I knew you'd get to me. I knew you wouldn't let anything happen to me.”

She suddenly threw herself at him and hugged him tight. She was crying into his shoulder and he was so shocked at this out-of-character emotional burst that it was all eh could do to pat her uncertainly on the back.

“It's alright,” he said. “I won't let anything happen to you, ever.”

“I love you, James, you know that, right?” said Lily looking up, tearful. “I know I'm a pain but I love you really.”

“Hey what's all this about,” said James. “First Al, now you. What's gotten into the pair of you?”

“I'll be all on my own when you're back at school,” said Lily. “If this had happened next week I'd be dead.”

“Don't talk like that,” said James. “Stop being so silly. Mum and Dad are here to look after you.”

“Dad's in work, Mum's training or playing Quidditch so I don't see them much,” said Lily. “I'm just glad you're home now.”

She turned and put her back into James's chest. He hugged her and tried to get over the surprise of her outburst. He supposed it was the shock of the accident and that it would pass. He hoped so; he wasn't entirely sure how he would cope with many more outpourings like this.

Presently, Lily fell asleep. Her throaty snores made James laugh; it was like having his old sister back. He gently rolled Lily onto the bed and got up; he intended to either find Mum or Dad to move her magically and get some food while he was at it. In all likelihood, though, both his parents would be asleep by now so he would have to sleep on the couch again. He tiptoed across the room, eased open the door and slipped out onto the landing.

James was halfway down the stairs when he stopped. Dad was talking to someone in the room; he was saying how what happened with Lily was his fault. Something had made James halt, and when a second voice spoke he realised it was a good thing he had.

“It wasn't your fault. What could you have done?”

It was Aunt Hermione, and she and Dad seemed to be speaking as if all James had seen in Cornwall hadn't happened.

“I should have been here,” said Dad. “If I hadn't been working so much lately…”

“Harry, you've been a father long enough to know that you can't legislate for this sort of thing,” said Aunt Hermione. “Kids have accidents; trying to stop that is like trying to stop the world spinning or the Chudley Cannons from losing.”

Dad laughed. “I know you're right, I just feel so guilty.”

“That's natural,” said Aunt Hermione, her voice taking on that soothing, elixir-like quality. “But by all accounts James did a fantastic job. He's inherited your talent of keeping your head in a crisis.”

“Thanks for sorting that mess out,” said Dad. “About him and his suspension. I never thought our own law would come back to haunt one of us.”

“Well we did it to stop ambitious students experimenting outside of school,” Aunt Hermione reminded him. “To try and stop any wizards with Dark ambition, remember?”

“I know, but thanks anyway,” said Dad. “I know what it must have cost you.”

“Hey, what's the point in being Head of Magical Law if I don't get to flex my muscles from time to time?” said Aunt Hermione. “James is a good boy; he saves his sister's life then gets told he's suspended from school over it. I gave Ernie right earful; he'll be on his toes from now on.”

“I think half the Ministry knows that,” said Dad. “Your voice did carry a bit. I am grateful, though.”

“You haven't got to thank me, Harry,” said Aunt Hermione. “I know you'd help my kids out if they needed it in half a heartbeat. It's not often I get a chance to return the favour. And James is my favourite - who else will help him if not me?”

They didn't speak for a few moments and James could imagine then tension in the pause. Finally, Dad broke it, and his voice sounded strained.

“It's nice to speak with you again.”

“It's nice to have an excuse,” replied Aunt Hermione. “I know what we agreed was for the best but sometimes I do doubt it.”

“James suspects something,” said Dad. “He noticed something at Christmas.”

“He's a perceptive boy,” said Aunt Hermione. “Lord knows where he got that skill from.”

“Not from me,” said Dad. “But he's a good lad.”

“You've done a great job with him,” said Aunt Hermione. “He'll do you proud.”

Another silence followed; James wished he could be in the room to see their faces.

“I'd, um, better get going,” said Aunt Hermione. “Before I'm missed. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Thanks,” said Dad. “But you will be anyway.”

Another silence. James almost dared himself to peek into the room.

“I'll see you, Harry,” said Aunt Hermione.

“Goodbye, Hermione,” said Dad. His formal air had returned and James could feel a change in the atmosphere; everything had gone sad and it was as if the very fabric of the house could feel it. James heard a swish that was Aunt Hermione Disapparating then turned and crept back upstairs. He had too many questions and didn't think he could face Dad until they were answered.

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