The Other War // James Potter & Lily Evans

happy operations;

Dear Mr Potter,

We are terribly sad to have to inform you of the passing or Mr Potter.

Two patrolling aurors found him dead in their home early this morning, his case is currently under investigation from the ministry and the conclusion that has been made is that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself murdered him. Details are still blurry thus we cannot permit you to visit his body are at the ministry.

Our understanding is that Mrs Potter passed away the previous year and Mr Potter lived alone with yourself at the Potter house. This leaves you with no place to stay. We will owl you immediately with details. There is speculation that it was not a murder, and in fact a natural cause or food poisoning, but we are resume a full scale investigation and are proceeding with caution, as this may not be the case at all. We hope that after extensive investigation and questioning we can come to a solid conclusion and arrange for you to visit the ministry.

Sincerely,

Penelope Fleet

Head of Human Relations at the Ministry of Magic

James collapsed head into his hands, the people who had been watching James as he received the letter had turned back to their conversations a full plates of food. Sirius, however, noticed James. Wordlessly, he reached over and grabbed the scrunched up parchment from James's clenched fists. James heard Sirius's sharp intake of breath as he read it over. Remus snatched it from Sirius, already knowing what had happened. Sirius's hand rubbed James shoulder gently, knocking tears from his eyelashes and landing them in his pudding.

"Is he okay?" James heard Marlene ask Sirius. Sirius handed her the letter. He looked up, he could see Lily's red hair and Sirius's solemn face in a blur through the tears. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Look, I-" but he never finished his sentence because another owl swooped down from the rafters, landing next to his pudding. He closed his eyes, releasing his tight fists.

James, I'd like to see you in my office, the password is 'Pixie Puffs'.

He stood and wordlessly left the table, leaving his friends to stare at his retreating back and sagged shoulders.

"Aren't you going to follow him?" He heard Lily's voice as he walked.

"No, I don't know what to do," came Sirius's dead reply.

"Fine," she said. "I'll help him."

He heard the pat pat of Lily's feet as they chased after him.

"Potter! James!" She ran to catch up to him but for the first time in six years, James kept his back turned to Lily Evans and rounded the corner and left the hall.

"Pixie Puffs," James whispered, his voice hoarse from sobbing. The large stone gargoyle leaped aside, revealing a staircase that lead up to James's office. He furiously rubbed at his eyes, wiping away tears. He hated crying, he hated it. It made him feel like an idiot. He clambered up the stairs when he was greeted by a large oak door with a single brass knocker placed in the middle. James reached up to pull on the knocker but the door swung open at his touch. A wave of warm air washed over him when he opened the door. Dumbledore sat at a desk in the middle of his large, circular office, casually admiringly strange silver contraption. He noticed James.

"James," he said, rising from his seat. "James. I heard what happened, and I offer you my condolences." James wanted to yell at him. To tell him that he didn't want his condolences, he wanted to see his father. And his mother. "This must be hard." You have no idea. He continued. "But I must agree with the ministry; we can't let you leave the safety of Hogwarts. We cannot allow it. Voldemort himself has been terrorising towns and villages all about killing hundreds and recruiting more Death Eaters." He stopped and James sucked in a shuddering breath. He didn't care that Voldemort would have his head on a stick, he was angry, so furious that his nails dig into his fists, leaving several angry red crescents in their place. "Now is not the time to act irrationally. We need to be vigilant and smart about the situation we have been so unfairly placed in. James, you are a good man. I need you to agree with me. I know that all you want to do is see your father and I am arguing the ministry now, asking for permission; for you to be able to grieve and attend and organise a funeral. But for now, please, James, listen to me."