Proud to Defy

Doesn’t matter to him, he loves it whatever it is, “’m always careful.”

Though always is an overstatement, he’s a little bit clumsy, but that’s got nothing to do with having patience and waiting to drink hot chocolate. He knows better than to not blow on it for a little, so it isn’t too hot.

Always, huh? She somehow doubted that -- no little boy was ‘always careful’, it went against their very nature. But as Neville was injured, she’d let that go for now.

Once he had the mug and was waiting out it’s heat, Alice settled on the other side of him, smiling at Frank over the top of his head. This was nice. Quiet evening, just the three of them. Though...

Of course, that’s not to say they won’t still be nosy, but Merlin knows Neville does his best to keep a lid on it when it’s just him and his sister. Best to not get them into trouble he can’t get them out of. And since their parents won’t be there to save them, that’s pretty much zero trouble. Or. Well. As little as he can make it.

“Besides, you know how gran gets when we’re there, do you really want her to suffer that much?”

“Is it wrong of me to say yes?” Because while Alice loved her mother-in-law and appreciated everything she did for them (especially with her own father so far away), the woman could be...a bit overbearing. And so while she would never actually wish harm upon her, a little chaos brought about by her children was just fine.

And it was that chaos that worried Alice about leaving them alone. She knew how Francie could get, but maybe when it was just her and Neville it was different. And she didn’t bother her brother as much. Who knew.

No need to mince words towards a woman he fought alongside for most of her career, she knew how terrible everything still was and deserved some plain honest truth. “You will get to see him but for now you must rest and take your potions.”

Stable. Optimistic. Recovery. These were the words Alice was going to cling to; mostly because if she didn’t...well, let’s just say that keeping her in a bed was going to be quite difficult.

He’d never been more grateful to His Lord for the awakening he’d provided. For making him aware of how he’d been treated all these years.

He should’ve known better than to follow Alice into that room, but something in him made him trust her. Deep down where he couldn’t recognise it, something made him not reach for his wand straight away. Something had him faltering as his wand went flying into her outstretched hand and he could only clench his fists as his eyes flashed dangerously.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing Longbottom?” His voice was low, a dangerous edge to his words as he took a step towards her. “Do you really need me to show you? You want to see it in all its glory?”

He didn’t have the capacity to pretend, hadn’t been programmed to feel anything but pride at the mark on his arm. He knew when he was beat, he knew when someone had the upper hand and all he could do was enjoy the fallout, was enjoy the looks on their faces when they knew they could no longer manipulate him. When they figured out that they’d thought he was on their side all along and how wrong they’d been. The McKinnon’s had been his personal favourite, he remembered Marlene’s face as she’d had the life drawn out of her, the betrayal in her eyes.

He’d revelled in it.

“Far be it for me to not give you what you want Alice.” He murmured, his eyes on hers as he pushed up his sleeve, holding his arm out towards her with a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “Like it?”

She had wanted to be wrong. She had known she wasn't -- the evidence was too strong, too clear -- but she had wanted to be. Possibly for the first time ever.

As James advanced, she kept a strong hold on his wand (and hers). And when he pushed back his sleeve to show her the mark on his arm, she forced her expression into the emotionless masque of an auror. Now that they knew for certain James was under Voldemort's control, they couldn't take any chances. She had to treat him like any other Dark Wizard brought into custody.

As much as it killed her.

"Sit down." She nodded to the small sofa in the room, making it clear that it was not a request. And as he currently was without a wand...well, it would probably benefit him to listen.

"How long?" It was the first of many questions. Alice had her suspicions of course, had noticed about when James's behaviour started to change. But she needed to hear it from him. Needed to hear what he believed the course of events to be. Only then could she begin to piece together exactly what had happened.

She shouldn’t even be alive.

“Are we done here?” He asked suddenly, the mark on his arm burning slightly. He could sense he’d need to leave soon, need to go back and report on what had been discussed. “We don’t seem to have anything important we’re discussing, unless Longbottom wants to go through the dangers of cauldrons not being the correct thickness again?”

He could feel the looks on him, couldn’t help thinking maybe he was saying something wrong. But how could he be? He’d been doing this his whole life hadn’t he? He’d always been playing a role, fighting for the correct cause stealthily. Then why did he feel as though those eyes on him weren’t gonna quit? Why did he feel that everything he said was somehow not what they expected to come out of his mouth?

Somewhere, in the back of his mind. He knew he wasn’t smiling as much as he should, he knew he wasn’t making jokes, wasn’t acting right. But that thought was buried amongst others, amongst many planted memories of what he thought his life had been. The problem with Voldemort fucking with your memories, was that when creating a false life, Voldemort didn’t understand the human element. Love or friendship. He didn’t know how to keep a personality intact when changing someone’s ideals.

“Longbottom, did you have something you wanted to talk to me about?” He asked bluntly as the meeting dispersed, figuring he’d tackle that head on. “Or d’you just fancy me so much you can’t stop staring?”

"I did, actually. But I'd rather not discuss it in front of the others, you understand..." The idea that there was a mole within the Order was hardly a new one; the whispers had been circulating for months. But until Benjy, no one believed it could be a member of the inner circle. The mission he had been on had been top secret -- known only to Dumbledore, Alice, Frank, and about a handful of others. Including James Potter.

Now, Alice had grown up in the home of an Auror, her father one of MACUSA's best. Even before she had finished Hogwarts, she knew how to identify suspicious behaviour. And right now? James was the most suspicious person she had ever seen.

Did she believe James was the mole? No. At least not willingly. But there were ways to turn people without their consent. And that? That she would believe.

Motioning James into an adjoining room, she closed (and warded) the door behind them. Neither of them were leaving. Not until she knew just what the hell was going on.

"There are so few people we can trust these days. I hate to have to operate this way but...expelliarmus!" Without warning, she disarmed James, summoning his wand to her hand. If she was wrong, she'd apologize later. But if she wasn't...