The Golden Trio watched as all the students from Beauxbaton and Durmstrang bid farewell to their new Hogwarts friends. It had been an exhausting year—one filled with trials none of them had anticipated. Many students were still struggling to process the sudden death of their fellow student, Cedric Diggory, who was murdered by Voldemort.
"Do you think we'll ever just have a quiet year at Hogwarts?" asked Ron, glancing between his two best friends: Harry and Hermione. It was no secret that, for the past four years, none of their school terms had been remotely normal.
Harry shook his head with a quiet chuckle. "No, I don't think so."
"Everything's going to change, isn't it?" Hermione asked softly, her voice tinged with something close to fear. She wasn't just asking about Hogwarts—she was asking about all of it.
Harry and Ron exchanged a glance, neither willing to meet her gaze. They both knew what Voldemort's return meant for them. For everyone.
"Yes" Harry murmured, watching as Beauxbatons' flying horses and Durmstrang's ship disappeared into the horizon, carrying their students home.
After one last attempt from Hermione to make the boys promise they would write over the summer (met with playful eye-rolls and sarcastic reassurance), the trio boarded the Hogwarts Express. Once again, they were heading home, though the word home felt less certain now than ever before.
Halfway through the train ride, Ron stood to find the trolley, leaving Harry and Hermione alone in their compartment. Harry lay stretched across the seat, staring absently at the ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts.
His gaze drifted along the compartment wall—one they had sat beside for years—until something unusual caught his attention.
"Has that always been there?" he asked.
Hermione frowned. "What?"
Harry pointed. "That. Right there."
Carved into the wooden paneling were two small initials: JP + AB. The engraving was subtle, easy to miss, and likely overlooked by students shoving their trunks overhead. But now that he had seen it, Harry couldn't look away.
"We have sat here for four years and never noticed the carving on the wall?" Harry asked, moving closer to inspect it.
Hermione moved closer to inspect the craving, having no recollection of ever seeing it before. This was their compartment—the same one where they had met for the first time, where they had once shared space with Professor Lupin, where they had always returned, year after year.
Harry reached out, fingers tracing the letters, feeling the worn, smoothed-over grooves in the wood.
"JP + AB...Who do you think that is?" questioned Harry.
Hermione tilted her head, thoughtful. "I don't know. There's no one with those initials in our grade that are a couple."
The carving wasn't deep, but the letters were clear, standing the test of time. Whoever had left this mark had wanted it to last, a quiet piece of history preserved in the walls of the Hogwarts Express.
Then, just beneath the initials, Hermione noticed something else. A date.
"1978," she read aloud. "Wasn't your father a student at Hogwarts at that time?"
Harry faced Hermione as he replied. "Yeah...he would've been in his final year."
Harry barely had time to process that before Hermione gave him a knowing look. When he understood what she was suggesting, he scoffed.
"Oh, come on, Hermione. I thought you were the smart one. This wasn't my dad. My mother's initials are L.E last time I checked."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just because he married Lily doesn't mean that he didn't date before her, you dimwit."
Harry gaped at her. "No way."
Hermione smirked but didn't argue, turning back to her book.
Harry sat back, arms crossed, unable to shake the thought.
"You've heard everyone," he insisted. "My dad was infatuated with my mom. His whole life. They were even Head Boy and Girl together. If there was someone before my mother, why has no one ever mentioned her before?"
At that moment, Ron reappeared, juggling a handful of chocolate frogs. He caught the tail end of Harry's sentence and frowned.
"Mentioned who?" he asked, plopping down beside Hermione.
"Harry doesn't want to consider the possibility that his father may have had a girlfriend before his mother," explained Hermione, nodding towards the carving. "And it wouldn't have been just some school crush, either—whoever 'A.B.' was, she meant enough for James to carve their initials together."
Ron leaned forward, inspecting the engraving. After a moment, he shrugged. "Well, if it's bothering you that much, mate, just send an owl to Sirius. He was James's best friend. Hell, they were practically brothers. He'd know more than we do"
Harry considered that. Ron was right—if anyone had answers, it was Sirius.
For the rest of the ride home, Harry couldn't stop thinking about it.
Had it always been Lily Evans? Or had there once been someone else in his father's life?
Someone with the initials A.B.
YOU ARE READING
Keep Breathing ♢ James Potter
Fanfiction"I want you to understand something, Harry...James loved Lily. He truly did love you and your mother. But what Astrid and James had was more than just love. It was all things above love. It was a sacrifice. It was putting each other first. It was m...
