I'll fight until there is no more

Perhaps it was the meds, or maybe James was just too tired to really put up a fight. Whichever it was, Alastor was pleased to hear that the man was receptive to getting away. They deserved whatever respite and fun they could have even if it was only for a week or two. Selfishly, his worry over them could also take a little break. It would come back of course. His worry never went away; it only grew. Not that he was necessarily conscious of it, though he suspected that if he made it out of the war alive, there’d be some great weight lifted. It might be replaced with something worse, a quiet voice echoed in his mind. He tried not to think about it. Instead, he concentrated on James’ question.

Alastor had done a bit of travelling, but it had been mostly job related and mostly around Britain. His leisure travel was minimal. When he was younger, he and his girlfriend had spent a nice weekend in France. He’d severely butchered the language, but it had been fun - one of the better collections of memories he had. There was no taking that sort of holiday again anytime soon, but he’d heard of other people’s getaways. “I don’t know about worldly, but uh..,” he scratched his chin. “Well there’s some seaside towns. Brighton, I think, is one. If you want to go farther, France isn’t bad. Food is good, but you’ve got to put up with the French.” 

So long as they weren’t in the city or other wizarding communities, James and Lily would probably be fairly safe. He doubted Death Eaters were going to target small villages or Muggle holiday spots. Maybe if they left before the baby was born, they’d have some time to work through some of the things that he assumed they’d wanted. Like James said, raising a kid would be scary for anyone. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was loads to talk about. “If you really wanted to get away from Europe, you could try America. I was there once on a sort of education program between the two Auror departments. Would take you longer to get there, but it might be good to get off the continent.”

The Order, while short on numbers, would operate fine; there was no other acceptable alternative. It wasn’t like Lily was going to be active any time soon, and he was pretty sure that the healers would agree that the longer James took to heal and recover, the better. Maybe he was being too easy on some of the members, but he shook his head. Was it better to have everyone but each person be completely drained, or fewer people at higher capacity? He didn’t know.

“Wherever you and Lily decide to go, make sure you go. None of this waiting around. I’ll be expecting a letter from you telling me about it. Alright? Now, is there anything you’d like for me to do while you’re still cooped up here?”

As a child, stuck in an old countryside village with only a handful of families each tied together, a big old church and a falling apart pub James had often dreamed of travelling the world. He had wanted to get away, find adventure and turn his life into a spectacle made of daring quests and found treasures. He had wanted to meet people from cultures different than his and learn forgotten languages that no one could speak...

Then he had gone to school and met his mates that had turned his life into a chaos so big that he almost forgot his childhood dreams. Almost. Back in the fifth year his heart was still set on choosing a career that hardly anyone else wanted - like that of a curse breaker or a dragon trainer, but the looming shadow of a war changed that desire into a much more practical if gruesome reality. 

Now, his life was far from boring, far from routine but also far from safe in a way that he had never expected his life to go. Each and every jolt of pain running through his body was a reminder of how close he got to losing it all. With every passing moment it was more and more appealing to leave the war zone behind and start a new life somewhere else. He wasn’t going to, a reasonable part of him knew. Or maybe it wasn’t reason but misguided honour...

He smiled through his anxiety and seemed to consider the suggestions. ‘I suppose dealing with the French is the worst part of going to France. I do have some family there, though no one close enough that I feel particularly close to.’ After all, his late parents were the last Potters to have stayed on the Isles as the rest of the family decided that it was a good idea to join those on the continent. He supposed they had a good hunch even if the thought tasted bitter on his tongue. He had never thought he’d go around doubting himself to such an extent. ‘I don’t know about America... Do they still have those weird rules about not getting in contact with the Muggles? I’m not sure Lily would appreciate that.’ Nor would he for that matter, but he knew well enough that even after how long their relationship had lasted he still couldn’t claim to be as sensitive to the mistreatment as he ought to be. ‘Maybe we could go somewhere warm? Like Italy or Spain. I don’t know anyone who went to Greece so maybe we could be the first ones?’ They could rent a nice house, somewhere far away from tourists but close the the sea (was there a sea in Greece? He thought there must be, but they didn’t teach Geography in Hogwarts). He could already feel the soft breeze on his cheeks, his messy hair getting even worse because of the salty air and a little boy toddling around between his parents unconcerned with war and death. It was a nice thought. 

The new detail caught Alastor off guard. He’d been prepared to let the matter sit for a while and wait until James had more time to rest. But this was very interesting. A female voice? There weren’t many female Death Eaters, at least, that’s what he assumed. His mind already started to process the list of potential people; there weren’t very many to begin with. Most of the names he went through he could see being supportive, but to be a full-on Death Eater was a whole different level of commitment. Much like his other potential suspects, he didn’t have a shred of evidence, but he’d come across a few Death Eaters who weren’t men. He wanted to ask James if there was anything else about the voice, but he restrained himself. The man was still very much recovering and memory was a finicky thing. For now, he just nodded and stowed the information for later.

James didn’t put up too much of a fight when told that he’d be off the frontlines. A small scoff escaped Alastor. Planning and strategizing? It was difficult to imagine James Potter as a master strategizer. “We’ll see about that,” he commented with a hint of amusement. He wasn’t going to make any promises. The planning discussions were already full as it were with him, Minerva and Dumbledore sitting in on most of the meetings. Occasionally, they pulled in a few others who could provide more information. Even then, he was pretty sure a lot of the planning went on in the Headmaster’s mind more than what was actually said in their meetings. He supposed that it made things more efficient, though they’d be absolutely fucked if the old man got hit by a proverbial Knight Bus.

Speaking of strategies, his strategy to get James to think of something other than the War worked. Despite what anyone else might say, Alastor did like to see people happy. “I’m glad to hear that she’s doing well. You two are fast learners.” Though he quite often thought James was essentially a kid in a man’s body, there was no doubt that the man had a good heart and wanted to do right. “However it turns out, the kid’s going to turn out just fine.” Or at least as fine as any kid could do growing up in the middle of chaos - he left out that bit. “You know, once you’re released, maybe you and Lily should get out to the country for a bit. Enjoy some quiet time while you can. Any place you and Lily might want to go?” There’d be enough hustle and rushing around yet.

A part of him was always thinking of the next attack. While he told every member to always be prepared, Lily and James were in a bit of a unique position. They were both effectively not prepared physically at the very least. His thought was that if they were in the country, they’d be away from any danger. They could take the time they needed for at least one of them, most likely James, to get well enough and to be somewhat prepared for whenever the next attack happened. He didn’t like to think that way, but he could change the way his brain worked.

Moody’s tone of voice wiped away all of James’ hopes for any sort of assignment during his recuperation period. A part of him had expected that (he was still fairly new, definitely young, probably too much of a wild card) though the disappointment still tasted bitter in his mouth. After all there was a huge, loud clock ticking in his mind, counting down the seconds until a new Potter entered the world, a world that should at least be a bit closer to safe than currently. ‘Just... keep in mind that you could, maybe, use a fresh mind or something.’ At last he attempted to suggest. 

James couldn’t imagine Moody being much of a chitchat aficionado and was frankly a bit surprised at a yet another attempt at conversation, though he had to admit, he appreciated all that effort. He had, at the beginning, expected the man to storm off as soon as he realised there were no good answers to his various questions. But the topic of his wife and their growing family? James could have to be really depressed not to perk up at it.

He was, however, surprised at the suggestion. ‘Well, I’ll take that as a complement, though gotta be honest. It’s a bit scary. I mean raising a child? That’s obviously not a piece of cake and I don’t know how well we’ll manage. But we have to try.’ His own childhood had been happy if a bit lonely before he’d started school. Raised by an elderly couple of a family that had in recent years moved out of the country meant he hardly had any company relatively close to his age except for the few times a year when the McKinnons came visit. He had spent days, weeks and months playing pretend at having playmates and then accompanying his pops to the town’s pub on a Saturday where he’d sometimes get to play with a grandchild of another patron. Suffice to say he didn’t want that for his kid. And yet with the political situation and the fact how young the Potters were he felt seclusion was inevitable. 

He sighed before answering, ‘I guess we could travel somewhere for a bit since neither of us will be useful to the Order.’ His arm started to itch under his plaster, but he couldn’t even try to scratch at it with the way his body was almost paralysed with various injuries and medicaments. He tried to shift onto that side to use his weight as a way of easing the discomfort. ‘we haven’t really talked about doing something like that. We haven’t even gotten our honeymoon.’

It sounded like James would just have to tough out his stay, which he knew wasn’t the easiest thing to do. Though hospitals were meant for resting, James, like Alastor had been, seemed rather restless. The lack in concentration was probably normal and a side effect of all the potions required for healing. James mentioned a buzz, and Alastor wasn’t entirely sure what the man meant by that but he decided not to seek clarification. Perhaps there was chatter going on among the healers about the circumstances that certain individuals were admitted to their care. It wouldn’t surprise him if there were rumours afloat, but he could hardly care about those sorts of rumours when there was reality to deal with.

Not surprisingly, James’ memory was hazy. Alastor hadn’t expected clear details. Even his own memory was a little fuzzy in places. Bits had become more clear, but there were things that were still in a fog. He wondered if he’d ever truly remember everything. The healers had told him that most of his memory should come back but there was always the possibility of not regaining parts of it. James would probably have been told a similar thing.

“That’s alright. Give it a few days, and we’ll see if you remember more.” Pushing for answers now didn’t seem to be the best thing at the moment anyway and was a good way of getting kicked out if a nurse came by and thought that he was adding too much stress. Sometimes people remembered things later, and sometimes they didn’t. They shouldn’t assume that any of them would remember anything useful that would help identify where they had been or who had kidnapped them. Their enemy proved too slippery time and time again, which had long since become frustrating.

Alastor scratched his chin, only to withhold a wince at having rubbed a bruise. A reminder that his own nightmare and failure hadn’t been that long ago. But he didn’t want to talk about that, and he doubted James would want to talk about his experience even if he could remember it. So, he searched his brain for a topic that wasn’t about the hell that they’d been through. His mind was still tired, and so he wasn’t all that successful. “When you’re released, I’d like for you to take some time off. You might want to return to your duties, but it’ll be for yours and everyone else’s benefit that you’re further down the recovery process. And before you say anything, I also won’t be on patrol for a bit either.” Dumbledore had made it clear that he ought to lead by example; if he was going to be telling others to take time to recuperate, then he ought to reduce his responsibilities too. He’d negotiated down to a week, which already felt too long.

“You’ll have some extra time on your hands, which I’m sure Lily wouldn’t complain about - how is she doing by the way?”

He hated the fact that his memories refused to return and that it rendered him absolutely useless. He would have much rather stayed longer in the hospital, even much more hurt, but with clearly spelled out names in his head that he could give to the Order for investigation. Alas he only heard voices, veiled in the phantom feeling of overwhelming pain which followed their use of torturing spells. 

He had tried, even before Moody’s visit, to try and focus on what remained seared into his mind, tried to distinguish the voices, look for particular accents and characteristics of what little he could still recall, but the fog that surrounded the words distorted them in such a way that he would have no greater success in saying whether the speaker was Scottish or French. ‘Well, I think I can remember a female voice and that she was in charge? I’m almost certain that she was the one spewing orders.’ Or maybe it wasn’t even that? Maybe his mind simply tried to fill in the blanks and he was too desperate to see a difference. He wined at the thought, his heart heavy. 

He was in the middle of gently easing his weight onto another side of his body, to allow his right-side injuries a reprieve from pressure when Moody suggested he took time off. Could you even take anything that Alastor Moody told you as a suggestion? Was that an order? He spluttered in protest as he pushed himself higher on the pillows (to which his ribs protested, but he paid them no mind), but then he was silenced with the words that followed. Resigned his head collided with the pillow again and his fingers clenched on the soft fabric of the stark white sheets. ‘I see...’ was all he said at first as his damned rational mind accepted the wisdom of Moody’s words. They weren’t going to keep him in the hospital for much longer, but with how shitty he still felt it was obvious that he needed time to recuperate. Still, the knowledge didn’t make it any easier to deal with his already overflowing sense of failure. And with Moody also out... suffice to say that didn’t help matter. “I’d like to request that I would still be allowed to help in any other way. With planning, strategizing or whatever.’ He understood that him limping around would get too much underfoot, but he couldn’t stay isolated from the Order’s goings. If he did then he wouldn’t have much trouble imagining himself grabbing his wife and stealing her away somewhere safe, hopefully before she could give birth. 

Marlene laughed. Brazen as she was, she loved children and had a granny’s heart when it came to them. She would rather bite her tongue off than make a little one cry or give them a hard time. Had she and James arrived at their secret spot to find a couple of children splashing around, she would have thought it cute and would not have had the heart to interrupt them “The thing is, my dear James, that while I would feel awful if I were mean to a couple of kids, I wouldn’t have any problem in giving a pair of teenagers a piece of my mind. And those are he ones we’d most like encounter around here. Youngers kids no longer venture too deep into the woods like you and I used to”.

The world used to be safer, she thought. Back then, they could go off and play in the wilderness for hours during the summer and their parents wouldn’t bat an eye, merely restoring to shouting their names when it was time for dinner. Nowadays, however, Marlene doubted children that age would have even been allowed out into the street without adult supervision.

“Let’s just hope that’s not the case. Sirius as a father could very well turn into my boggart. All though who knows? Maybe he’d surprise us all” she joked. All though it might sound hypocritical to others, Marlene could perfectly understand what James meant when he said he hoped no one else in the group had kids for the moment. In the middle of the war was hardly an ideal context to raise a child. Harry was an exception, and they were all fussing over him. He had easily become the center of their group of friends. She knew neither James nor Lily had any regrets for having the little peanut, but that did not take away the fact that their were high risks at stake. Fortunately, they were all banded together to make sure Harry stayed far away from said risks

“And he says I ask the hard questions” she chuckled nervously, lowering her eyes at her feet, their form trembling under the reflection of the running water.

“I…I guess I might” she admitted. Of course, the one thing she would rarely ever think about, she would admit to them “I’m used to having children around, with my younger siblings and my niece and nephew. Guess I wouldn’t mind one or two of my own in the future, provided it is with the right person. Which is probably the obstacle of the whole business, isn’t it? Most of us don’t run into our soulmate in school” she teased slightly. Her love story (or stories) were a far cry from the romantic tale James had been blessed with. She’d had her heart broken, and she’d formed connections with all the wrong people she couldn’t have. There were no men in her life now, and it had to be the most quiet time she’d had for God knew how long. 

‘I’m tempted to disagree my dear Marlene,’ he echoed her words as he shook his head and smiled patronisingly. ‘Babies are much more likely to go on in search of adventures. Especially, to dark, scary forests like this one. The teenagers are more likely to sit around in pubs pretending like they are old enough to drink bemoaning their terrible lives. But I do agree that we were a special bunch coming out here so often to drink our weight in alcohol even as teens.’ Perhaps the lives of magical children were different now. No, James knew that their lives had changed as some parents had decided to pull their children out of Hogwarts and hide them away from the magical community that threatened their safety. A large part of him was absolutely certain that he would think twice about letting Harry roam around like they had used to if the got to grow old enough before the end of the war. It was simply easier to imagine that it was not the case. 

‘I don’t think I can even begin to imagine his excitement if he was to be a dad. I mean, he gets annoying with how much he can’t wait for Harry to be born and he’s just one of the uncles.’ Despite his supposedly harsh words, a smile bloomed on his face. It was softer than his usual bright grin, but no less sincere. Truth was, and he wasn’t even trying to hide it, that he was sometimes overwhelmed with how much their friends were supporting the Potters, how much they could trust all of them to take care of his unborn baby if anything were to happen to him, how much they would spoil and dot on the kid, how much they were already doing so. He had been anxious when he had first heard the news - ecstatic about becoming a dad, but terrified because of the timing - and then he had been put back together by all of his favourite people. 

Perhaps, he shouldn’t have asked that question. Perhaps, he should have already known the answer, but the truth was that their lives kept changing like a kaleidoscope and so did their dreams and wishes. Still, the sadness on Marlene’s face felt like a punch to the stomach for James. That has not been his intention when he first thought about going on that excursion. 

Using his hands for balance, he shifted in his place, turning a bit to the side to give Marlene his absolute full attention. ‘Hey, I hope you didn’t forget the most universal truth of this world. Men suck. We are all terrible and I know all about our faults. And I could tell you someday about how awful we truly are, but you’d get scared and you’d leave me and you’d probably tell Lily as well. And then she’d leave with you and you’d live in some far off place, riding on unicorns and braiding your hair all day long. And I’d be stuck with the boys, no hair to braid, lonely and forgotten and jealous, because come on... Riding on unicorns? That’s so un fair.’ 

He could have taken a different approach. He could have reached for her hand, which he didn’t, because instead he reached for a lock of her hair to play with (since he had no idea how to make braids, but the point had to be made), and intertwined their fingers together like they always did and went on and on about how her value was not determined by her relationship status. But he knew that she knew that he thought that and that wouldn’t have changed much. 

“It wasn’t exactly pleasant either,” Lily countered, though she leaned in to the touch. Her first, visceral taste of the house divides that seemed to reach far beyond the halls of Hogwarts with so many destructive results. “Hmm, like eleven-year-old-you would have had the first clue of what to do under a moonlit sky.” To be fair, eleven-year-old-Lily wouldn’t have been able to conceive of much beyond holding hands and perhaps some tepid, shy peck-of-a-kisses. Even that would have been eyed with some skepticism and disdain. Wouldn’t the stars and evening wildlife be much more interesting?

The beautiful naivety of youth.

The next photo was of the train – pulling in to the station, the focus fixed on a half-blur of red hair and waving arms among all the crowded windows. “Those first winter holidays, taking the train home,” she explained. “I’d been so scared that they’d forget somehow. Forget to come get me, or forget how to get to the station. Or worse, that they’d get there and wouldn’t be able to get through to the platform.” She could laugh about it now. “I think I annoyed McGonagall about the train schedule for the whole week ahead of time, making sure of when it would arrive and it definitely wouldn’t be late, but what if it was early, what would happen then?” Her fingers brushed over the image, and if they smudged at the hint of a dark shadow in the window behind her, eh, who would notice.

“Of course they were there, though. Waiting, all smiles, and a bit of peppermint fudge for the trip home.” Not Petunia though, who had been very intently practicing for the local church panto that day, so proud of her role as Mary. Lily had been happy for her, even as her sister had smuggly lorded it over her the whole holiday.

“What about you? What were winter hols at the Potter home like, way back then? Were you already kidnapping the boys away for the celebrations,” she teased. Filling up a home with his loved ones like it was the only way to keep himself warm. “Big parties with all the poshest Witches and Wizards invited and there’s little James Potter with knobby knees that you’ve got to watch lest he stick frogs in your pockets?”

I had just enough fun was a phrase that had almost formed on his lips, that had almost pushed out of his mouth but he had been able to stop himself in time. His views of certain people didn’t change much since that first train ride, or in fact it had mostly gotten worse, but somethings were better left unsaid, especially since he knew Lily was well aware of it. ‘Well, it certainly happened a long time ago,’ he said instead, but then he couldn’t keep himself from adding in a teasing tone of voice, ‘besides you’ve no idea how many romance novels my mum had and how many of those she actually read to me instead of bedtime stories when I was tiny. Had the circumstances been different I could have swept you off your feet under that moonlight.’ 

With his arm around Lily’s shoulder he settled more comfortably and glanced at the offered photo. This one was less precise and yet didn’t seem less valuable for its lack of focus. And if he noticed the dark shadow looming behind Lily’s brilliant halo he didn’t comment on it. ‘Nah, I don’t think you were the first or the last kid to get afraid that something would go wrong with the train. I mean, we were babies back then. Travelling to and from Hogwarts was an adventure in itself. Almost as exciting as going to a detention in the Forest. At least the first couple of times.’ Sure, it got less exciting as the time went, though the lessened supervision allowed the Marauders to go of the rail in terms of pranking. Once, they had slipped into the car where a bunch of older students were and, using the Cloak to remain unnoticed, put the sticking spell on their baggage. Ah they were laughing so hard when the kids realised they couldn’t pick their staff back up and were panicking about not making it out of the train on time. ‘Ah, if your parents didn’t show up on time or something you wouldn’t have been left stranded alone in there. I mean what are the Heads for?’

‘Aaaand...’ he started in a sing-a-song voice, ‘who’d leave the tooth-gaped Miss Evans behind?’

At her jab he sighs heavily, exaggeratedly, head lowering as though he was suffering intensively. ‘Why, oh why is it always my knees that need to make an appearance?’ He’d had a late growth spurt, but he had had a growth spurt.... Eventually. ‘But to answer your question while ignoring all the mean things you spit, my parents rarely held such parties. You know they were too old and too tired for that kind of thing even when I was a kid, but we sometimes went to other people’s houses for that kinda thing. And putting frogs in other people’s pockets is always a great fun for all parties involved. At least when you compare it to all that’s boring about posh people and their expensive banquets. I mean being polite to people that you don’t like? Disturbing.’ 

Then he though about his actual winters and summers and the people that would always show up, sometimes uninvited but never unwanted. His expression turned from teasing to wistful. ‘We tended to spend the time with the McKinnons. Then, after I started school and depending on the year, the guys would come. For different spans of time and in different combinations. Sometimes I’d go somewhere. It was never boring. It was never lonely.’ 

“Or you and Lily decide to give Harry a couple of siblings, at this point I think anything is possible” she pointed out with a laugh. All though the thought of them growing up left her thinking. They were really at that stage in their lives in which some of them already had a kid, all though James and Lily were relatively younger than most parents. She realized she had never really imagines that far ahead. She supposed she’d thought about how it would be like to be a mother at some point, but it had always seemed like such a far away notion. Suddenly, that kind of life, the adult life, had found a way to loom above their heads. It gave her the strangest sensations. A mixture of excitement and loss. 

Marlene pretended to consider the notion “Huh, Glastonbury…Never really considered it, but it does have a cool history” she mused with a smile, however. It suddenly downed on her, just as adult life, that the possibility of death was far, far closer than it used to be, and this time not precisely because of the time that went by, but because of the time they were in. Nobody really talked about it, and she sure as hell didn’t like to think about it. But death lurked in the corners as an omen, and you never knew if one day, you’d take the wrong turn and the war would claim you fatally. So, technically, thinking about where to be laid to rest was not entirely far fetched. Now that was depressing “Actually, if I had to choose, I think I’d like nice glen in Scotland, in the Isle of Skye. You know, near my family’s castle” she admitted in almost fearful voice. She did not want to think about it further. It was suddenly terrifying, since thinking of her death led to thinking of the death of those whom she loved. All those who were at risk, young and old, family and friends. And she felt like she would not be able to breath if she kept on spinning.

Thankfully, that beautiful secret spot they had discovered all those years ago, had that fundamental magic that no wizard or creature or science in the world could ever hope to recreate, that made you feel at ease, that brought you back and anchored you into a small space for a while in which you could just let go and pretend peace would go on forever. A small creek under an old bridge, a keeper of her and James’s deepest secrets. Of their shenanigans with Sirius (after he had moved in with the Potters), of their fears and their joys and their dreams. It was as if the place has taken some of the freedom they used to share back then, and kept it in store for them, kept the feelings of a life so wonderfully laid out before them, expecting the unexpected as something to be anticipated, and kept it for the time in which they would need it the most, in which they would be at their worst. Like now.

“If that was the case, I’d kick them out and make sure they never come back. There’s enough woods for them to find their own spot” she answered, with a laugh. Oh, when they had been dumb and carefree and thought being a rebel meant smoking weed and drinking bad liquor stolen from the back of the Leaky Cauldron’s storage. No one could have done such things as masterfully as them anyways.

Up close, she was able to recognize the place had changed a bit after all. There were even less visible stones under the layer of moss that grew over the old bridge, and the wall of weeds that grew at the edge of the creek was longer. But still, Marlene managed to find the rocks they used to cross over the water to a flat rock, above the water level, that looked down the small waterfall that fell to the shallow pond below, were they used to swim in the summer. After spending hours in the water, they would always sit on top of that rock to dry their skins in the sun, dipping their toes in the waterfall. It was there that Marlene sat down, crossed legged, and finally pulled of her shoes and socks.

“You know, now that you’ve actually mentioned it, I can’t help but wonder” she spoke up as she dipped her toes into the water. She released a tiny gasp at the initial shock of the cold, but eventually her feet grew numb and she sank them down to her ankles. “Which of us do you think will have kids next? Remus? Me? Peter just seems…like a kid himself still” she giggled “Jesus Christ, what if it was Sirius?”

If he had been paying attention and the excitement buzzing in his blood had been less intense he might have noticed the tremble in Marlene’s voice and he might have seen it for what it was - fear that lingered all around them all the time. The same fear that kept giving him nightmares at night when he woke up covered in sweat and searching for a warm body beside him to make sure that Lily was there, that she was still safe, that their small family was intact. It was the same fear that still poisoned his mind, whispering sweet promises of security if only they’d abandoned the fight and fled the country, the continent and settled somewhere no one would think to look. The same fear that he had to shake off daily before he could plaster on his vibrant smile on go about his day. 

But he was excited, he was anxious in the best possible way to get out of Marlene’s apartment so that he could finally show her what he had come up with, what his brilliant, mischievous mind cooked up in between one hurt heartbeat and the next one. So before he could think about her words, could process why the joke suddenly took a turn too close to home they were stepping into their childhood comfort zone. A place where they had talked about their future in all the brightest colours, weaving dreams so fantastical that they’d end up laughing until their bellies hurt. No thought spared to where they would like to be buried. 

‘Would you, though? I swear kids nowadays get smaller and smaller. I’d feel bad about being mean to them. And who knows? Maybe they could teach us something!’ He suggested with a raised eyebrow. ‘ I mean look at how innovative we were.’ As he was saying that he followed in Marlene’s footsteps crossing the river, carefully balancing on the moss covered stones. They seemed smaller under his feet, though no less sturdy and secure. His body immediately recalled where to step to avoid the more slippery sides, where to step to not trip over a ragged edge almost as if no time had passed between their last visit and now. 

With absurdly little grace he settled on his knees on the rock and crawled over it to sit on the other side of Marlene. It used to be his preferred side, only when he was younger he cared much less about slipping and breaking a bone. ‘Merlin’s beard... You ask hard questions McKinnon.’ Once again following her example he started to took of his shoes and socks, the final pull of his left one almost making him drop the article and lose it forever to the stream. 

Setting his things aside and dropping his feet unceremoniously into the cold, cold, cold water he answered, ‘I hope no one has kids yet to be honest.’ Part of the reason was the war, thought he’d be a hypocrite to say that out loud. As much as raising a child in the middle of it was terrifying to him he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. ‘I mean Remus would be the obvious choice if that absolutely had to happen. Though Sirius, I think is the one most likely to have an accident if you get my meaning. Peter could very well surprise us. Sure, he’s acting like a kid, but he sometimes acts like our mother. And we listen.’

It was a relief when he realized that the waterfall had completely obliterated the birds. With the feathers and claws no longer blocking his vision, he spotted the Order member quickly. The man was getting to his feet, looking thoroughly soaked. It was a perfect opportunity to attack.

Unfortunately, the man seemed to realize how much danger he was in as he started firing spells off blindly. There was an eruption of noise and explosions before Walden had a chance to fire off an attack of his own. Ducking away from the blasts, he retreated further into a corner, trying to come up with a new plan. 

Amidst the chaos, the thought he could hear voices. It was difficult to tell, but once the blasts had eased up he made out the noise for certain. “It’s coming from over here!” one of them shouted and Walden was almost certain that it wasn’t Death Eaters that were coming to help. 

“Shit!” he cursed, realizing that he was about to be backed into the corner of this office, bleeding and outnumbered. 

There wasn’t much left for him to do here, he’d done enough damage that the message had been sent. He needed to find a way out before he could be captured. Not that Walden would ever let that happen. It was death or escape, there was no in between. He would never go to Azkaban, he was certain of that.

Slicing his wand through the air, he muttered a spell that released a sharp blast of wind that arched with his wand. It wasn’t ordinary wind, it was meant to cut like the edge of the finest scalpel, thin but deep and capable of doing a decent amount of damage if it hit its mark. It was difficult to aim amidst the confusion, so he simply hoped that the spell did the trick. 

Making a break for the door, he nearly tripped over the man that he had been torturing who was now on the floor. It appeared as though he had finally passed out. Walden felt bitter disappointment that he hadn’t been able to spend more time with the man, but there would be opportunities in the future. For now, he needed to save his own skin.

The voices were getting closer and Walden threw off another slicing spell as he leapt for the doorway, hoping to at least make it more into the open before the people who were on their way could block him in.

Several next moments went by in a blur. From the moment that he had blasted half of the office to cause a distraction to the moment the door behind him opened (and as he presumed the Death Eater attempted an escape), he had managed to clear his vision and then got hit with a blast of air so powerful that it pushed him against the few chairs that hadn’t gotten destroyed originally. The chairs faired only a little bit better than the arm into which James took the strongest impact. Immediately, he could feel even more blood start pouring out of his veins and the sound of voices carrying into the room from outside washed him in a wave of relief. He wasn’t certain he could keep up the fight for much longer. 

Disoriented by both the steady leaking of his blood and the impact with the furniture, he wasn’t exactly in a good condition to pursue the enemy, he could only hope that whoever was outside (he couldn’t tell the voices apart because of the ringing in his ears) would catch up with the runaway. 

Pushing himself to his knees, James took in his surroundings - half the room was dark with the dust, the debris scattered around the floor looked more like an aftereffect of an avalanche or other tragedy and not a magical fight, but with a corner of his eye he spotted a dust covered leg, the only visible part of the previously captured Prophet worker - his upper body hidden in the dusty darkness.

Then there was a rustle of cloth and a dark clad person emerged from over the fallen man and James’ reflexes kicked in at the last moment, a simple protego helping him disperse a yet another blast of cutting wind. As soon as the spell was over, he rolled away from his spot, making sure that his opponent couldn’t direct another blast and this time one up him. However as soon as he pointed his own wand in the Death Eaters direction, the man was already gone, the rim of his robe disappearing behind the door. With a last effort he aimed his wand at the quickly disappearing figure following it with a desperate cry of impedimenta. He couldn’t tell if he had hit the target...

Humming as she nodded, Lily said, “The family historian. Always said a picture was worth a thousand words, after all.” Reminded her a little bit of James that way. The enthusiasm for photography. How many boxes of pictures would James’s kids have to go through in eighty, a hundred years, she wondered. Stacks and stacks, so many shots of him beaming up at them with that lopsided smile of his as his hair progressed from pepper to salt, and the whole history of his family wrapped around him.

It was a comforting thought.

Snagging his arm with her elbow, she nudged him towards the sofa, sitting down with the box on her thighs. They could take a break for a moment with nothing lost, right? This sort of remembering was important enough for that.

Her fingers flicked through the rows, pausing to pull out one that showed a pair of girls in matching dresses, both with hair in twinned braids, blond and red, the taller with a smile miles more reserved than the toothy one a Baby Lily was giving the camera. “First day of school for me,” she explained. “Mum sewed our dresses. Mine had strawberry juice stained in it by the end of the day. Tuney held my hand the entire walk to the school, all the way into my classroom, and then all the way home again at the end of the day.” She’d taken her duty very seriously.

Another photo, the girl little more familiar this time. Lily standing in this very room, proudly showing off her school robes, the tie and scarf still the bland shades of grey of the unsorted. “Probably T minus two weeks to ‘First Encounter’,” she teased. Not that James had made the best first impression on that train ride. At least not on her. Seemed to have transformed Sirius’s whole world in one. “Mum and Da were so proud. Tuney… not so much.” She pointed to a hunched smudge of shadow at the edge of the photo.

James couldn’t help but agree with Lily’s mum. True, he mostly had experience with magical pictures, those that moved and seemed sentient enough to provide visual storytelling if something was unclear, but there was no reason why muggle photography couldn’t work its own magic. It perhaps was a little bit harder to capture whatever it was they wanted, but that could also make it all the more treasurable. 

Silently, James followed Lily to sit down, his enthusiasm hardly diminished but definitely changed into something more subdued if only in it’s ferocity. What sort of memories were they about to recall? The painful ones that he could offer comfort over, a well tried hug and a crown kiss, or maybe the ones that will bring tears of joy at some image of a youth long forgotten? Those he could deal with. Although, he truly hoped he could deal with anything in a sufficient way. A worrywart he was, for sure. 

Turned out, he needn’t had worried too much, at least not right away. The first photo was adorable to say the least. The girls looked happy, just in the way girls that age should and James couldn’t help but wonder how such a deep devotion of an elder sister could dissipate so easily because of jealousy. Something so clearly visible on the second photo. ‘I really like that tooth gap here. Adds to your cuteness.’ He offered lightly, though he feels anything but.

He himself was an only child, something that had been both a blessing and a curse whenever he grew too restless lonely, but he couldn’t imagine ever not loving those that had wormed their way into his heart - let alone those who rightfully had a place there. But he wasn’t naïve anymore (at least not as much as he used to be) he had seen with his own eyes the way Sirius and Regulus acted back in school, how they had parted ways so thoroughly that he doubted they could ever meet even on accident. Still, a part of him thought that it was different. That Sirius’ worldview was too different from the ancient ways of the rest of the Blacks to allow any room for love. The Evans’ seemed to be a picture perfect family until it turned out that one of them was special. And it was all the more unfair because Lily was special in more ways than just her magic, how could Petunia not see it? Ah, a normal, everyday memory and his thoughts still took a turn to the dark. That was happening way too often. ‘I suppose, it must have been a bit hard to see you go so far away. To some magic school that the rest of your family couldn’t even see.’

“Sweet Lily. God, it’s kind of crazy to think she can’t go because she had a baby. And actual baby. Your baby!” she shook her head in amazement. She remembered the moment James had told her that Lily was pregnant. It had taken him nearly two hours to convince her that he wasn’t messing with her. “I mean, I still feel we’re only like…two days older than the kids we used to be, you know, rolling around in the mud until we looked like chocolate-coated candy” she giggled.

She laced her combat boots up tightly before looking at James’s extended hand. She raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk forming in her lips as she took it. “All this mystery, James Potter” she said, tilting her head to the side when he formulated that question “Only that, if you’re going to kill me and bury my body somewhere, at least make it a nice place? Like a nice clearing. Otherwise, I’ll come back as a ghost to hum ‘It’s a Small World After All” in your ear for the rest of your days”

She closed her eyes and waited for the familiar and not all together very pleasant feeling of apparating through someone else. For a moment, her world went upside down, and it was like she was turning on herself, and the next, her uneasy feet were back on solid ground. Marlene stumbled, taking a step forward to keep herself from falling and opened her eyes “I hate it when someone else does the apparition” she confessed, pushing some lose strands of blonde hair from her face before looking around.

Recognition hit her like a bludger in the face, all though in this case, it was far more pleasant. The bright green world that surrounded them, chirping with birds and the soft buzzing of bees and dragonflies hovering over the flowers growing by the creek. In front of them, old, moss covered stones arched over the water, the remains of an ancient roman bridge that James and her had discovered ages ago, when they were little and ventured into the forest when their parents weren’t looking, chasing after imaginary adventures that had finally led them there. Their spot.

“Merlin’s socks, James. I hadn’t been here since…graduation?” she realized in amazement. The place of their childhood games and teenager daydreams. How many times had they snuck out there to to drink and smoke when they were not supposed to, to swim in the creek during the summer and sleep under the stars. To have deep conversations and exchange secrets that only brothers and sisters were to keep. “It hasn’t changed one bit!”

If Marls couldn’t wrap her head around the idea that Lily and James had a son together then how was James supposed to do it? From the moment the pregnancy had been confirmed his disbelief interchanged with his belief, sometimes to a point in which the idea itself left him feeling choked. He reckoned that it was going to take him several years to get acquainted with the thought of being a father, even with Harry already being a part of their world. 

In fact, he could already imagine those lazy Sunday mornings when Harry would toddle his way into their room basked in the golden rays of sun and then jump on the bed demanding their attention and affection and maybe some breakfast (though definitely cuddles, because he was James’ son) and James would get whacked on the head with the knowledge that this was his family. He couldn’t wait. ‘All we need to do is wait eleven years and then it all will be back to how it was. With Harry in Hogwarts we’ll have our second youth. Unless, one of you gets a kid in the meantime and it will disrupt the timeline. Then we’ll have to postpone getting mud all over us for a bit longer.’

At her teasing he shook his head slowly, as though he was disappointed in her. ‘McKinnon, oh McKinnon you wound me.’ He used his best pained voice and paired it with a wince so severe that he could almost feel the lines settle into his face. ‘As if I’d chose a less than perfect place for your burial. How does Glastonbury sound, huh? I bet it’s better than any sort of a clearing you can think of. And then you’ll come back as a ghost but only to say thank you for the rest of eternity.’

Then with not much ado he recalled the three D’s and off they went. At the unpleasantness of the deed James squeezed Marlene’s fingers a bit too much and then they were both already standing in the Destination he had decided on. It took them both a few seconds to recover (really someone should work on making Side-Along Apparition less terrible). “Tell me about it.’ He mumbled as he shook his head in a way that Sirius might be more familiar with to clear his head and get rid of the vertigo. 

An owl had come from Dumbledore earlier that day, requesting Remus to come by and discuss something that he didn’t disclose. Not that Remus didn’t know what it wouldn’t entail. Werewolves. It always came back to werewolves lately, but who knows, maybe Dumbledore would surprise him. 

It took him some time to finish up his editing for the day, after all the bills wouldn’t pay themselves, but eventually Remus reorganized his desk just so before locking up the flat and making his way to the nearest apparition point.

He wasn’t expecting anyone to be at the gates of the school when he popped into existence just outside of the school grounds, and the voice that greeted him caused him to nearly jump out of his own skin. “Shit!” One hand to his chest and the other to his wand, Remus cast his gaze around only to land on the last thing he expected to see. James Potter pushing around a fucking pram. That was definitely something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

“Prongs? What are you doing here?”

As soon as he recognized the approaching person his whole body relaxed and the previous grip on his wand faltered. Instead he waved a hand at Remus and then glanced towards Harry to make sure that in the past ten seconds of his lack of focus nothing terrible had happened to the baby. And nothing did, being the two week old lad that Harry was meant that he mostly slept the day away and so he was already asleep. Good, otherwise James might have felt inclined to scold him for swearing in front of a child. Merlin, what did the fatherhood do to James. He could already imagine the absolute look of horror on Sirius’ face if he had actually scolded someone for swearing in front of his baby. For some reason, James could also already tell that such a futuristic vision wasn’t exactly improbable. He was screwed, that’s what he was.

‘Mrs. Moony, isn’t that a fun coincidence that we’re all here at the same time?” He asked instead of answering and he proceeded to try and push the wheels  over the protruding roots that crisscrossed the road leading up to the gates. It hadn’t been an easy walk, but somehow it was harder to force the pram to move now that it was to consistently force it forward. 

on-borrxwed-time​:

James’s giddiness was contagious enough that Marlene almost considered skipping the shower, get dressed straight away and check out what he had in store for her. But if there was something that she really disliked, it was putting on fresh clothes without having taken a shower first, so she forced herself into her bathroom, waving a hand at James to let him know that he was, as usual, free to make himself at home in her apartment. 

“Mum dropped by yesterday with enough groceries to last a month. Please, have your way with the fridge for all I care” she raised her voice over the sound of the shower “Sure! Powder’s is inside the painted russian box on top of the chimney place”. Not that the chimney place worked as an actual chimney, since she lived in a flat. She had had to make a few tweaks here and there with a couple of spells and an expert on floo network installations to fashion a fake chimney that would allow her to move around the network.

She emerged just ten minutes later, fully dressed, which had to be some kind of record for her. Following James’s indications, she’d thrown on a pair of jeans, combat boots and her favorite leather jacket over an AC/DC t-shirt. Combing her hair with her fingers, she returned to the living room, and made a nod towards James. “Everything all right with Lily?” she checked. She wouldn’t want her best friend to have a problem with her other best friend because he decided to slip town for the day. “I’m all ready to go, how about you?”

As Marlene occupied the bathroom James quickly did all the things he said he would. Calling Lily actually took him more time that he thought it would have, definitely more than what he had spent on making them sandwiches and brewing tea to carry in a thermos, but his wife was understandably worried about Marlene and James had no heart to leave her hanging without a proper explanation. In the end, by the time Marlene joined him all ready for their small adventure he was just finishing up packing the various treats that he had been able to find in her kitchen into a random grocery bag he had found laying around. 

‘Yeah, she sends her love though.’ He looked up from where he was making sure that no food was being squashed into one undistinguishable mash and showed her a thumbs up. ‘But I could see that she would have wanted to go with us if she could.’ Maybe that wasn’t entirely true, nothing Lily said made it seem like she was, for the lack of a better word, jealous of their little excursion, but who wouldn’t want to go with them and have some fun? What wasn’t supposed to mean that James didn’t consider time spent with his son (his son!) the time of his life. No. 

@cherrybomb-witch

His visit and their talk should have been more uncomfortable all things considered. Their lives weren’t easy, their subjects full of pain and their futures could be too short to even be called that. But as James stood there, in the middle of Marlene’s safe zone with her hand clutching his, with the way she had brightened up visibly after such a small amount of time, he could only wish for it to never end. 

He smiled at her happily and proceeded to shoo her in the general direction of her bedroom hoping that she wouldn’t get all that long getting ready for the excursion that he was now ridiculously excited for. His whole body was abuzz with energy, he actually felt more like his teenage self than he had in the longest time (which is not to mean that he feels happier than when he’s with his wife and son --- no) and his insides itch to cause some mischief. It’s ridiculous if he was being honest with himself, but there’s absolutely no reason for such deep introspections. 

‘Yeah, Muggle time it is. You go change and I’ll rummage your fridge for food.’ He paused with an eyebrow playfully raised, though there was an underlying suspicion in his eyes at the sudden thought. ‘You do have food in your kitchen right?’ While he tried not to show too much concern, since he didn’t want their good mood to go to waste, he was also still aware of the strain and stress she had been under recently. ‘Or should I run out to buy something? Where we’re going has no shops.’

Boggarts. In Cokeworth. It was such a ridiculous idea, so jarringly discordant with the mundanity and blandness of this place, where even the last bloom of fall was muted and tinged with grey from the perpetual soot of the factories. Whatever magic existed in this place was as tenaciously out of place as a daisy pushing its way through the cracks of the pavement.

         —or maybe Lily wasn’t actually as special as all of that and she should just take James warning seriously. A sobering thought to consider as she started to go through her parents wardrobe, fingers touching old familiar fabrics, memories accented with the patterns fluttering across her mind.

When she drifted back to the sitting room, her arms were full with a box of pictures, a photo album, and an old camera perched on top. “Mum was a photo fanatic,” she joked. “We have pictures of everything.” So many even Petunia couldn’t lay claim to them all. “Tuney took the wedding album,” and she was the elder sister, Lily couldn’t really begrudge her that, “But there are duplicates of them all in this box.” Little stories, half of them she knew she would never know now, but keeping them all the same couldn’t do any harm, right?

“Da got her this camera for their first wedding anniversary.” There was film in it still. She’d have to get it developed, see what was on it. Decide if there was anything worth telling Petunia about. Fingers running over the worn, familiar buttons, she swung the camera up and took an impulsive shot of James as he stood there, awkward and out of place in her already abandoned childhood home.

For a minute or two he had tried to remain respectfully incurious, walking from one corner of the room to the other, but in the end his more troublesome side won out. There wasn’t a lot left on the shelves or inside of various cupboards but his rummaging did help the time pass at a quicker pace. He had, even, found several objects that he thought might have been precious to Lily (or someone else who used to live in the house) as they looked either handmade (like a mug obviously coloured years ago by someone with a skill level of a child), or less random like an awfully ugly mixing bowl that could have been Mrs. Evans’ favourite and a book so worn out that he couldn’t even decipher the title.

He had carried those findings back to the living room to set on the table before he made his way to gather anything he could with absolute certainty call rubbish. And there wasn’t much of those - Petunia must have already cleaned a place yet it did help him pass the time quicker. And forget momentarily why it was they were there in the first place.

When he heard her steps on the stairs he was almost done with the kitchen and returned to the living room only to see her come in once again weighted down with a box. Once he learned what it contained he had to tone down his excitement. He loved photographs. Both taking them and looking at those taken by other people especially if an interesting story followed. What he was not expecting what getting blinded by a Muggle camera right as he was about to ask if there were any embarrassing photographs she might have wanted to show him.

.

“Oh please, if there’s someone in this world who is prepared to deal with the spawn of James Fleamont Potter, it’s Minerva MaGonagall” Marlene snorted, smiling slightly. Albus Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort, they could dispute the title of the most powerful wizard in the world. She doubted any of them, or anyone else, would be able to deal with the terror of troublesome teenagers like MaGonagall did.

What made James perfect, what made him one of Marlene’s favorite people in her entire life, was the way he always managed to make his words sound just right. Whether if he knew what to say or not was irrelevant, the wizard had a way of turning it into the precise words you needed to hear. Maybe it was his inherent capacity to understand what the others needed to hear, or maybe he simply read minds. But he always knew to be hones, and encouraging, and supportive. Most of all, he knew how to be uplifting, and that was something someone like her needed to count with.

“You know, when all of this is done you should get a job as a motivational speaker” she joked faintly, demonstrating that James words were working because at the very least, she was talking as if there was somehow a hope of the war being over, with them standing on the winner side. That was James Potter magic to you. “You’ve always known how to make the days seem brighter even in their darkest hour” she murmured, clutching his hands with hers “You’ve always known how to make me feel less grey”. That was why he was one of the few who knew about the worst demons living within her.

All his sudden excitement was eventually rubbing on her. Leaving the bottle on top of the coffee table, she stood up, standing much shorter than James, and maybe slightly less confident than usual, but with her viridian eyes none the less sparkling.

“Oh, we’re going muggle, then? And comfy! Merlin’s socks, should I be concerned?” she joked, and the act itself seemed like a miracle. In truth, there was no reason for them to encounter any sort of trouble in the muggle world. While they both came from pureblood homes, Marlene had had plenty of contact with the muggle world ever since she was a baby, including primary school. The muggle world was not as strange to her as it might be to most purebloods.

To say that Minerva McGonagall was James’ favourite teacher would be an understatement. She was perfect in his eyes and if he could afford to be a little bit silly in making such a statement, he’d like to be just like her once properly grown up. Not only was she a force to be reckoned with, but she was the one person who completely shared his passion for both Transmutation and Quidditch. She was strict, yes, but what was the fun in ruffling the feathers of someone who didn’t mind getting them ruffled, but she was just enough that the troublesome four rarely cursed her name after a punishment. They did, of course, but it was so much worse with other professors. 

In other words, back in the day, Minnie McGee, as James liked to affectionately call her, could do no wrong and now he was actually feeling a bit giddy at the though of his kid getting to meet her. He really hoped she wasn’t going to retire for real. ‘Who knows? Maybe a miracle will happen and the kid will somehow turn up decent.’

However, his hero-worship could hardly compare to how strongly he felt about those he considered a family. And seeing the light come back to Marlene’s eyes, hearing her attempt at a joke and almost feeling the life coming back even if just slightly so filled him with warmth. Marlene and him went back for so many years that their relationship had been stripped of most, if not all, pretence, she had seen him at his worst and he had seen her at her lowest and both knew that they could always depend on the other, even if they tended to be a big pair of idiots. 

Her words indicated that he had been successful. That at least for a moment she was back on his side, back believing in what others considered foolishness. And he beamed at her, delighted in her trust, even if he felt a bit sheepish at her straightforward praise. ‘You know that no matter what will happen, I’ll always be there for you. Even if I’ll lag behind for a month.’

Relieved that he’d found (and managed to operate) the lightswitch already, Lily glanced around. “Petunia said she’d leave—,” she started, stepping quickly through the door into the kitchen, returning a moment later with boxes and a roll of packing tape. “Do you think you could assemble these boxes? I’ll go around the house and collect up things to be packed and bring them back here.” It would keep her busy while also give her a little privacy to grapple with memories as they came up.

“She said she’d leave my room untouched,” why venture into the freaks domain? Granted part of that may have had to do with the threat of hex traps Lily swore she’d place on the area to keep Petunia from snooping. She never had, the worry about underage magic in Cokeworth being traced to her and Severus very real after Eileen’s passing, but the threat had proven effective enough against Petunia. “That might take the most time, so we’ll save that for last.” It would also have the fewest emotional bombshells to drop, she thought.

A light, lingering touch on James’ arm as she passed by him, silent thanks once more for his presence and support before she headed up stairs, bracing herself as she turned to head in to her parent’s bedroom.

Once she returned to the room carrying various boxes and some funny looking plastic stretch he had to stop himself from quipping about Petunia’s thoughtfulness. It wouldn’t do, continuing his antagonising tactics, even though it was just too easy, too natural, especially since his feelings towards Lily’s sister were definitely much more negative than they ought to have been. The constant reminder of her terrible behaviour towards Lily was igniting his protective instincts with such a strength that he sometimes felt like a final combustion was nearing. Not even a bunch of leftover cardboard boxes could change that, since he suspected it must have simply been easier to leave the unused ones behind. 

Instead of putting his foot in his mouth with an ill-timed comment, he took them from Lily and looked around for a good place to set out his work space. He decided that the coffee table will have to do.

‘Sure thing.’ He answered without looking up, but before she could leave the room he was done. He had even enlarged the space of the smaller ones just in case Lily’d found many more memorable trinkets than Petunia thought she would. ‘I guess I’ll be here if you need me.’ He offered lamely, still a tiny bit uncomfortable in the unnaturally bright space with an unnaturally unsettling atmosphere where he couldn’t even make himself busy. It was silly, he knew. 

The last strand of her red hair disappeared behind the doorframe when he remembered the last peace of advice that he simply had to share before he left and then he’d be all set to wait for his turn to come. “Oh! And mind the Boggarts. You know they are quick to inhabit such places.’ There was no need for him to explain what it was he meant. The house was as good as abandoned after all. Still, he watched how she stepped into one of the rooms. If his memory served him well it was her parents’ bedroom.