Chapter Twenty-One: 2 November 1978

20 0 0
                                    

James Potter and his wife read over the letter several times before discussing it. It was from Hogwarts, written in Albus Dumbledore's elegant, slanted handwriting; as he read it for the fifth time it was still just as shocking.

James and Lily Potter,

I hope to find you are both in good health. While I understand that my writing to you is, well, fairly unorthodox, I wish to speak to you both in person as the subject is rather delicate. Should you take me up on my offer, I hope to see you both in my office at six this evening.

Albus Dumbledore

James had never in his life received a direct message from Dumbledore. The closest had been his invitation to become Head Boy in his Seventh Year, which had been to everyone's surprise. He had spoken to him, of course, but it all seemed strange.

"What do you think he's talking about?" James asked, folding up the letter for what might have been the fifth time and setting it down.

"Well we're going, aren't we?" Lily raised her eyebrows.

"Yes." He had already made up his mind, despite his hesitation. "What'll we tell Padfoot?"

Since the Potters' death, James and Lily were the new owners of their home. Sirius still lived with them. After all, his brother Regulus had been allotted Grimmauld Place, and frequently complained about the relatives he got to avoid: Bellatrix, Narcissa, and a litany of other archaic names. They had only been married for a few months, with Sirius as their best man. There was no question of his loyalty.

"Tell him the truth. I trust him as well as you do," Lily insisted. "When he gets back we can fill him in."

They traveled by Floo Powder. Because of Hogwarts' enchantments, Apparition to the inside was impossible. Lily lit the hearth, the fire roaring, before throwing a handful of the dark powder into the flames. They burned a magnificent, emerald green, and as soon as she stepped inside she was gone.

Taking care to remove his glasses beforehand, James followed after her. As the flames swallowed him up, he croaked, "Dumbledore's Office."

When he emerged, the first thing he noticed was how many things Dumbledore seemed to have. It was a fairly circular room, with a staircase that he could only assume led to Dumbledore's private quarters. There were plenty of shelves, tables, and columns containing different sorts of trinkets, some made of metal, some making small noises every few moments. Lily was already across the threshold in front of his desk.

Albus Dumbledore sat with steepled fingers, looking at them both over his half-moon spectacles. The faint light of the fire made him look more ancient than he really was. He smiled gently as James entered, gesturing for him to have a seat.

Dumbledore waved his wand and two velvet stools were conjured in front of his desk. They each took their seats. This was the first time that James had met Dumbledore not as a student, but as an equal; even if he did not possess the same magical capability as the much older wizard, he was no longer Dumbledore's student, he was an adult.

"It is good to see you both," he smiled again, his blue eyes glinting. "I apologize for the short notice I provided, but I hope that you will listen to what I have to say regardless."

"I trust your judgement, Professor," Lily answered him kindly. He nodded her in acknowledgement.

"I am afraid to tell you that my fears have been recognized these past few weeks. Lord Voldemort has, seemingly, reached the peak of his powers, and the attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns alike has not gone unnoticed." He sighed heavily, eyes lowered. "I was hopeful that it would not reach this point, but I cannot stand by and allow this."

Up To No GoodWhere stories live. Discover now