Harry Potter One Shots (Vol. 2)

Journalistic Integrity (James Sirius Potter)

Wow, this is late. My hiatus ended up lasting longer than I originally anticipated it would ...

Anyway, how is everyone? Happy? Healthy? Thriving? 

This one shot was requested by _hypnotized_ what feels like a decade ago.

Please overlook any mistakes. I hope it was worth the wait!

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Sometimes, there were those days when you realised just how much work you had put in to reach where you stood, right now. Sometimes, it was just looking at the front door of a family home that reminded you how close you were to achieving your goal and yet, simultaneously how far you had left to go. It had taken countless letters back and forth, exploring various avenues of contact until I reached my current destination; the Potter family home.

They were just a few of the people that I needed to interview for my newspaper article but somehow it felt especially poignant that the man who was once known as the 'Boy-Who-Lived' was willing to give an interview for an article commemorating the 25th anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Of course, I understood the significance of the man who was so tightlipped about his experiences being willing to share them with me, and I felt honoured to be entrusted with it. There was no doubt that our thoughts aligned on this; Mr Potter too wanted the wizarding world to know the lingering effects and the trauma that school children had suffered through to protect wizarding Britain. How could they go through that, how could children take up arms to fight a war, without coming out as different people? But that wizarding world wasn't ready to address that yet.

Before I could lose myself in my thoughts, as I was prone to do whenever I thought about the sheer lack of knowledge about mental health in the wizarding world, I knocked on the door. Waiting patiently, I checked my watch to make sure that I hadn't arrived late; the last thing I needed was to make a bad first impression. Thank Godric I had somehow managed to make it with five minutes to spare.

I didn't wait long. Mr Potter opened the door, greeting me with a smile. "Come in."

"Thank you," I said, watching the older wizard step aside so I could enter his family home. As I passed him, I made sure to say, "and thank you for taking the time to see me today."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to give you the most eloquent answers," Mr Potter confessed, shutting the front door behind us. He offered me a self-deprecating smile that was so out of place in the few public images there were of him in his adulthood. But I understood it all the same; this was difficult. Understandably so.

"Even still, I understand that it's a difficult thing to talk about." I offered him what I hoped was my most reassuring smile.

Leading me through his home, Mr Potter considered my words for a moment before relenting. "Yes, I suppose, but it's important that people know what happens to children that are made to fight in a war."

We settled in the front room with Mr Potter taking a seat across from me. Putting my bag down beside me, I sorted through it to retrieve my Quick-Quotes Quill and notepad, ready to begin the interview. Flicking to a blank page, I did Mr Potter the courtesy of making no comment on the way he shifted in his chair, a physical representation of his discomfort. He settled for clasping his hands on his lap.

"If there's anything we discuss today that you don't want in the article, please just let me know," I assured him softly.

"Thank you." Mr Potter nodded shortly. The warmth of the smile that had greeted me at the door had faded and before me sat the Head Auror baring all a small fraction of his difficulties. It had to be a discomfortingly vulnerable feeling. "Should we begin, Miss Perez?"