Love Defense

Severus Snape knelt before the fire in his manor, Shevvington Place. The room was completely dark, except for what little light small flames caused to play across his face. He folded his hands and waited.

Soon the orange fire turned into swirling shades of green, and a dark shape became eminent. The figure's red eyes made it clear to Snape that this was his master.

"Severus . . ."

Snape bowed his head. "Why is thy bidding, my Lord?"

"Have you found the Headquarters to Dumbledore's fan club?" Lord Voldemort rasped.

Snape lifted his eyes, his eyes bright and triumphant. "I have. They are working in Godric's Hollow, which James Potter now owns. A spell of ancient nature protects it. I could not get in because I was not invited by the master of it."

"Of course . . . of course . . ." Voldemort's mind was working, devising a plan to deceive. "This will not be difficult. All we have to do is remove Godric's Hollow from Potter's control, and Dumbledore's most intimate secrets will be available for us to take like rotten fruit off a vine."

Snape grinned eagerly. "Shall I kill him, my Lord?"

"No," Voldemort said slowly. "Not yet. He is too strong in magic, too well defended and protected for you to kill him."

It was extremely difficult for Snape to suppress a disgusted scowl.

"No," Voldemort was saying. "There is another way. An easier way, a more . . . fun way. You will get to kill, Severus, I promise that."

Snape shifted his weight. Killing James Potter was one thing. Killing someone else, though he hated to admit, was quite another. . . . Luckily, Lord Voldemort was too deep in thought to notice his hesitation.

"James Potter will be in Azkaban by Christmas Day, leaving Godric's Hollow unowned and unprotected," the Dark Lord said. "Listen carefully. This is what you must do."

MEANWHILE -- GODRIC'S HOLLOW

"What do you mean, you can't come?" James Potter said desperately. "You've got to come."

"How's that?" Lily Evans said with a teasing smile. "We're not dating anymore, you know."

James blinked. "I know." He shook himself mentally. "But -- Evans, it's an Order of the Phoenix Christmas party, and you're one of the most vital parts of it." He'd almost called her Lily. He hadn't done that since they stopped dating. That's all past now, he scolded himself. She's Evans to you.

"Oh, I'm sorry, there must be some mistake. I was told that the Order of the Phoenix was an organization to fight evil, not plan and carry out social gatherings."

Lily and James were sitting on the couch in the den of Godric's Hollow -- the house James had inherited, and the current headquarters for Dumbledore's followers. The year was 1978 and they were barely six months out of school.

"Don't be so coy," James said. "People around here haven't had any real fun for so long, it seems to me that when we do defeat Voldemort nobody'll know what to do with their free time. Tomorrow night, we'll eat, dance, get drunk on rummy nog -- You'll have fun. . . . And," he went on bravely, "I was sort of looking forward to seeing you there."

Lily looked at him, and for a fleeting moment, James thought he saw something -- felt something, felt the connection between them that had been so astonishingly strong during their seventh year -- but as soon as it had appeared, her expression changed, and James wondered whether he'd imagined the spark in her emerald eyes.

"I'm sorry, Potter, but things are kind of messy at home. I need to be there. I do think you'll get on swimmingly with your Marauders and the other 26 people who work with us." James had to smile.

"Yeah, Sirius and Remus and Peter have been a great help. We're still trying to decide on the party cookies -- Fireball Fritters or Trapdoor-Spider Sandies?"

Lily groaned. "Between Petunia and your pranks, I'll take Petunia." She stood up. "I gotta go. My sister'll go schizo if I come in after eight."

James stood, too, and walked her to the door. He watched her take off on her broomstick and disappear into the clouds, and went back into his house, to the kitchen where Sirius, Remus, and Peter were working on the cookie-dough silently.

"She's gone," James said. "And I've given up."

Sirius leapt off the counter upon which he'd been sitting. "Oh, good, we can make noise again." He licked some creamy batter off the spatula. "Now tell me again why we listened to that?"

"To see if Evans still gives a damn about me. Forget it, though, I think it's clear." He sighed, and gestured to the bowl of cookie dough with his wand. "Fireball?"

"It's not clear," said Remus, always the optimistic one. "She did seem to regret not being able to come tomorrow."

"She said between me and Petunia, she'd take Petunia," James said, unable to control the hurt in his voice.

There was a silence.

"She said between your pranks and Petunia," Peter put in.

"Same difference," James muttered glumly.

"Fireball might be a problem," said Sirius, fingering his wand. "Robes are a bit flammable. I wanna go for Trapdoor-Spider Sandies. Come on, James, this isn't like you. Stop moping, it's just a girl."

"Yeah, you're right," James said. "A girl. . . . An extremely pretty, clever girl. But -- Hey!" He brightened. "Women make up half the population of this world; there are plenty more pretty clever girls, aren't there?"

"That's right," Remus said, nodding.

"Yeah, mate, except the ones who know you hate you," Sirius admitted.

James deflated. He was right -- the girls in their year at Hogwarts had despised him. He'd had been disgustingly conceited throughout his first five years at Hogwarts. Most of the girls in their year had been head-over-heels for Sirius, but strongly disliked his snobby best friend, Lily Evans most of all. It took over a year of her ridicule and disgust, but James had finally realized his faults, and had humbled himself for her. Then they had dated during the seventh year. He truly fallen in love with her her -- he still loved her. But they'd broken up on the last day of school.

What went wrong? he thought to himself. And how can I fix it? How can I make her love me again?

He shook his head slightly, wanting to change the subject. "Let's do Smokebomb Sugar Cookies. It's less dangerous and less legs."

His friends gave their assent and James got out a cookie sheet.

~*

FLASHBACK: JUNE 31, 1979 -- HOGWARTS

James waited patiently for Lily in the Astronomy Tower. His heart was thudding powerfully, and his stomach was twisting. He fingered the Head Boy badge pinned to his chest. In just a few short hours, they would graduate, and his childhood would end forever; instead of spending Saturday nights pulling pranks on his peers and neighbors, he'd be battling Death Eaters and other evils for Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix.

And in just a few short minutes, he would be asking Lily a very important question.

He thought about looking in one of the telescopes to see if the few stars he could make out in the darkening eastern sky could tell him anything about the future -- particularly, Lily's answer. But finally he decided against it, thinking that perhaps it was better he not know just yet.

He'd know soon enough. Lily was climbing the stairs to the tower.

She came in the door, looking flushed -- and very lovely. "Sorry I'm late. Head Boy and Girl've got to be down there in 15 minutes, did you know?"

He turned to face her. "Yeah -- yeah, I knew, I just wanted to talk to you for a moment."

She looked at him briefly, then came to the wall on which he was leaning and looked out the window to the setting sun in the west. "I kind of wanted to talk to you, too."

He faced out the window as well. The sunset made their faces glow with light, and Lily's brilliant green eyes and brilliant red hair shimmer even more than usual.

James couldn't speak for a long while, and it seemed that Lily, too, had something to say but was having trouble saying it.

After minutes of silence, James remembered their time restriction, took a breath, and started, "Do you --" at the same time Lily began, "Have you --"

They shared a smile. Beginning sentences at the same time or finished each other's sentences was a common occurence between them. James's heart lifted with hope.

"You go first," he said politely.

"I was going to ask if you've talked to Dumbledore recently."

"Yeah, I have. You've been initiated as well?"

Lily nodded grimly. "At least it makes things a little less complicated. I don't have to look for a job."

"On the other hand, working for his Order-thingy isn't going to be fun."

"No. . . . It'll be difficult. And dangerous, and deadly . . . and every other horrible d-word you can think of. Disasterous."

"Damnation," James said helpfully.

"Delightful. Delicious."

"Only if you think phoenixes are delectable."

Lily laughed. "No, that's off the menu. I'm not going to be eating the mascot."

She definitely has my lame sense of humor, doesn't she? thought James as he watched her smile. "Is that . . . is that all you were going to say?"

Her face changed. "No, I . . . Truthfully, I think things are going to be complicated from now on. In my life, I mean. Working for Dumbledore, living at home with Petunia, now that Mum and Dad are . . ." She trailed off. Lily's father had left a year ago and her mother had recently died of cancer. James felt pity for her, and empathy -- both his parents had died a few months ago, of natural causes. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had started out late in life. Most people had thought them to be James' grandparents.

"Things are going to be hard," James said softly. "But it helps, doesn't it, knowing we're not alone?"

She fidgeted. "Death toll rises every day."

"But we're all still here. Sirius and the others, your best friend Ellen . . . you and me . . ."

She looked up at him, her eyes troubled. "That's . . . that's what I wanted to talk to you about. You and me."

James looked back, his eyes expectant, waiting. "What about?"

I don't even have a ring. Maybe I should have bought a ring before we had this conversation, James was thinking, when Lily said abruptly, "I think we need some time apart."

James froze. His mind was blank. "Apart?"

"Y-yes." Unable to interpret the expression in his eyes, she tried desperately to explain. "I mean, here at Hogwarts we're okay, but . . . it's more complicated in the real world, and I just think maybe we could take a break, until --"

"Yeah," James shrugged, his face impassive. He was looking out at the sun again. "You're right. You know, I came here to say the same thing."

"You did?"

"Yeah. We should break up, because here it's fun, but it just wouldn't work when we're outside of school, would it?"

Lily shrank back. "No. . . ." James could tell she was looking at him hard, trying to catch his eye, but he didn't move.

"They're expecting us, we'd better go to the Feast," James said suddenly. Then he turned, and smiled at her -- but his smile was dry and unfeeling -- and left the Tower.

Lily followed.

~*

BACK IN THE PRESENT -- DECEMBER 20, 2003 -- LILY'S HOUSE

Lily had washed the dishes, taken out the trash, and swept the kitchen floor on Petunia's boyfriend's orders (Vernon was large, to put it mildly -- Lily thought it was best not to argue) and was getting dressed for bed when the phone rang. She picked it up, eager for some company besides her sister's.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Lily, watcha doin'?"

Lily held the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she buttoned her pale-blue silk pajama shirt. "Same thing I do every night at ten-thirty, getting ready for bed."

"At Potter's house?" she whispered gleefully.

"Obviously not, dimwit, you've just called my house."

"I know, I was poking fun, Lily. What's up with him?"

"I don't know . . . Ellen, where exactly are you, by the way? You didn't sneak into a Muggle house again --"

"No, I'm at a payphone on a street corner. Edgar brought home loads of torkers from his job."

Lily paused. Then -- "Oh! You mean quarters."

"Sure, whatever. So you wanna meet me over here tomorrow and we can go to the Christmas party together?"

"I'm not going."

"WHAT!? What d'you mean, you're not going? You mean Potter hasn't invited you?"

"Of course he has, he's invited everybody. It's just -- Petunia has a new boyfriend and suddenly she's real big on family. I think they just want me to stop hanging around with -- you know --"

"Your own species?"

"They don't like us. You know that. Anyway, it's Christmas Eve and they're expecting me to hang around."

"That bites. Lily, it's going to be fun. Edgar's going out with Emmeline Vance, did you know?"

"Oh, she is? That's cute, Emmie's so nice. . . . So your twin brother's got a girlfriend, when are you going to hook up? 'Tis the season."

"What's Christmas got to do with it?"

"I was more referring to the fact that the world is slowly going down the toilet."

"That really isn't funny, Lily."

Lily yawned and lay back in her bed. "I'm sorry, Ellen. I've got a bad sense of humor."

"Yes, that's true. . . . Lily, I'll miss you at the party. And I'm sure I won't be the only one."

"What's that supposed to --"

"Edgar's running down the road, yelling something. Probably he's saying I shouldn't be standing out in the open for too long. You're right about the toilet."

"I know. See you. Say hi to Edgar for me."

"Will do."

They hung up.

Lily stared at the ceiling. 'And I'm sure I won't be the only one,' . . .

She shook her head and went to sleep.

~*

THE NEXT DAY (OCTOBER 21, 1979) -- GODRIC'S HOLLOW

"It's a really nice house. You're very kind to let Dumbledore use it," Emmeline Vance said. James poured her some wine.

"I'm happy to let him. He did make me Head Boy in my seventh year, after all -- there must've been a huge controversy among the staff for that to happen."

The Christmas party was in full swing, with a radio playing upbeat carols, drinks and glasses stacked on a table next to another table full of plates, dishes, and bowls of numerous foods brought by his friends and co-workers. James had noticed the only thing that remained untouched so far -- about an hour into the party -- was the plate of cookies he'd made with Sirius, Remus, and Peter. It must have gotten around exactly who made them, and nobody was thick enough to eat something contributed by the infamous Marauders.

"How long do you suppose we'll be working here?" Emmeline asked conversationally.

"Until I get married, I expect." James sipped his wine. "In other words, forever."

She laughed good-naturedly.

"It's extremely useful," James explained. "Dumbledore's friends all know where it is, as it once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, and there was an ancient spell on it that Dumbledore was able to reactivate to protect the secrets that go on in the house."

"Is there? I never knew that. What sort of spell?"

"Well, it's a bit like the Fidelius Charm, only perhaps not quite so secure. You see, only the owner of the house -- that's me, currently -- and those invited by the owner are able to see evidence of the missions and workings of the Order. If someone uninvited tried to sneak around in here, they'd be Apparated against their will. And if they're not ready for it, they're splinched, making them it easy for the Order or one of us to find."

"Is that how Snape's legs ended up in your front yard a week ago?"

James's face twisted with instinctual disgust at Snape's name. "Yeah. Slimy bastard, I know exactly who he's working for. Rumor has it he's changing his mind, but --"

He was cut off by a loud explosion and then a billowing plume of smoke dispersed throughout the room. Its source was Mungungus Fletcher. He had not a glass, but an entire bottle of wine in his left hand, and it was empty. In his right hand he was holding one of James's cookies.

For a moment the guests were all absolutely still and silent with surprise. Then Sirius shouted out, "HA!" and everyone laughed as they fanned smoke away. Everyone except old Mrs. Figg, who was coughing violently and started hitting Mundungus with her purse. "Out! OUT! Foul stuff, foul man! --"

"It en't my fault, they curshed it," Mundungus slurred, pointing accusingly at James as he was ushered out of the house. James nodded at him and saluted. Across the room the other Marauders caught his eye and they all laughed, then came over to stand around Emmeline and James.

"Hey, Vance," Sirius greeted her. "Didn't you have a date tonight?"

Emmeline blushed. Remus elbowed Sirius harshly. "He didn't show up." She shrugged. "I guess he's busy, with her sister, maybe."

"Mine didn't show up either, don't feel bad," James said.

"Yeah, but Evans told you she wasn't --" Peter began, but he, too, earned an elbow from Remus.

"I haven't seen his sister, either," James said. "Perhaps Dumbledore had something for them to do."

There was unspoken doubt. It wasn't like Dumbledore to give missions near holidays unless something really serious was going on, in which case everyone was bound to be aware of it.

In the silence James wondered about Lily. Would she be spending Christmas Eve and Christmas Day alone?

His eyes wandered his guests, some of them talking and laughing in groups, eating, showing off with their wands. And he caught sight of Alice and Frank Longbottom dancing to the slow song now playing on the radio.

Remus took the initiative to strike up a conversation, something about the Quidditch scores in last week's game. James stayed silent, watching Alice lean her head against Frank's chest, his arms holding her gently. There was an odd tugging at James's heart.

He looked down into his glass. His wine was finished. He nodded briefly at the others, muttered, "Excuse me," and went into the empty, bright kitchen to collect himself.

Why now? Why was he thinking about this now? He'd been doing fine, even having fun while talking with Emmeline Vance until he'd noticed Frank and Alice dancing.

Did they know how lucky they were to be married, to have each other?

Judging by the contented expression James had seen on Frank's face, he figured they did know.

James took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. I suppose it's a good thing I didn't buy a ring before we had that conversation, he thought vaguely, remembering that evening in July.

A tap at the kitchen window interrupted his thoughts. He stirred and, slightly bewildered, unlatched it for a dark, almost black owl. The owl gave an unearthly-sounding screech, dropped an envelope on the counter, and swooped out immediately.

His name was on it. James opened it curiously and his stomach twisted as he read the short note: Potter, I'd like to talk to you. Meet me in the park on my street in Surrey? Evans.

A note from Lily! A note saying she wanted to talk to him, not at his house, not at her house, but in a park, where it was dark and late and they were sure to be alone.

He stuffed the letter in his pocket and went back out to the den where the party was and pulled Sirius aside from his conversation with Emmeline Vance. "Listen," he said hurriedly. "I have to go somewhere."

"There you are! Where did you go? Where are you going?"

"Can you just supervise the party for a while? See everyone off if I don't get back soon?" Sirius must have noticed the stress in James's voice because then he complied without arguing, and James exited the house, grabbing his broomstick from the closet.

The black owl that had delivered the letter flew behind a tree at the bottom of the driveway of Godric's Hollow and landed on its master's cloaked shoulder. Severus Snape's bony fingers stroked the owl as he stepped out of the shadows enough to see James's dark figure take off expertly on his broom.

"Good," he murmered, smiling maliciously under his long oily hair. "Good."

~*

THE SMALL PLAYGROUND IN SURREY

An icy wind swept through, making the swings on the swingset creak against ice. Several inches of snow crunched under James's feet as he walked the perimeter of the playground. It was empty. He was the only one there. And he was getting cold.

"Evans," he said aloud, "If this is a prank, it's not funny."

And then -- a sound, quite different from the whistling wind and the rustling trees. A whimper, a human cry.

James froze in his tracks and listened.

"Evans?"

Another whimper, this time a legible word: "Potter. . . ."

James's heart catapulted into his stomach. "Who are you? Where are you?"

Louder: "Get out of here . . ."

What the Hell? Now panicked, James sprinted towards the voice, and located its source in some bristly bushes.

A girl, her face turned away -- her cloaks were ripped open, visible skin stained red.

"Oh my God, Ellen!" It was Ellen Bones, Lily's best friend. James immediately tried to close her cloak, warm her a little. "Get up! Get up! What the Hell is going on?"

He was trying to lift her, but she fought against him, trying to wrench her half-mangled body from his grasp. "Go away!" she screamed in panic and pain, pushing him off. "It's what he wants -- Go away, you know I'm going to die, just leave!"

"Ellen!" James yelled, his voice breaking, his own heart hurting for her -- she was in so much pain -- so much blood, everywhere -- "What's happened to you? -- God damnit, Ellen, I'm trying to save you, stop fighting me!"

"No . . ." Ellen weakened in his grasp, as her eyes widened at something over James's shoulder, her expression one of utter defeat. ". . . You've killed me."

And her body relaxed in his arms. She was dead.

James had no time to feel anything but shock when a soft voice came from behind him, "Naughty, naughty, Potter. . . . You've just taken a life."

He whirled around to see Severus Snape, his wand raised and his black eyes glinting, and behind him Lucius Malfoy, both with equally triumphant and twisted grins.

Oh, the anger, the hatred -- it surged through James like hot poison in his veins at the sight of his Hogwarts enemy. "You."

"Me." Snape laughed. He had reason to. He had a wand, whereas James's was deep in his pocket somewhere, and he had a second, whereas James was alone and defenseless.

"You can't give him all the credit," Lucius Malfoy drawled.

"No," James said, standing up. "You're right. I'll kill you, too."

"With what?" Snape mocked. "Your glasses?" His wand gestured towards James's eyes and instinctively James's hand moved towards his pocket, but -- "You'd be dead before you got to it," Snape said coldly. "Best stay still."

"You won't kill me," James said. He felt strong, confident, fueled by his anger.

"No?"

"You haven't got the guts. You didn't even kill Ellen, did you?"

Snape's eyes flickered, but for once he seemed to be able control his fury unlike James. "True," he said with a smile. "Lucius Malfoy's quite skilled in murder -- the Muggle way, with a knife."

"Exhilarating, really," Malfoy put it.

"You're sick," James said loudly to Snape. "You're too much of an evil son of a bitch to join the right side, and you're too weak to follow your own master's orders --" Got to distract him, need my wand --

"YOU ARE NOT IN A POSITION TO SPEAK, POTTER!" Snape yelled back. "You forget, I am the one with the wand!"

James's hand moved closer to his pocket, unnoticed by either Snape or Malfoy. "If you wanted to kill me, you could have done so already. You gotta lecture me before I die?"

"You're not going to die," Snape said slyly. "You're going to live, and you're going to Azkaban for the murder you've committed."

"I! -- I did not kill her!"

"But it would seem so. Her blood is on your clothes. And did you tell anyone where you were going?"

*Click*. Why didn't I see it before? "You wrote that note . . ."

"I did. Lucius, quick -- contact the Minister."

Malfoy nodded, stepped back, and Apparated.

"It'll never work. I've got the note --" Finally his hand was in his pocket, feeling for the note, but feeling only ash -- Wand, wand, where's my wand? --

"The note destroyed itself soon after you read. Little invention of mine, combustible ink --"

"I'll just tell them everything, everything you've said --"

"No you won't." Snape laughed malevolently. "Because you won't remember it." Finally, James's hand closed around his wand, and he whipped it out of his pocket --

"OBLIVIATE!" Snape screamed.

And James was blasted off his feet by the power of the Memory Charm. He fell, unconscious, into the red snow near Ellen Bones' body.

~*

James woke moments later, and had absolutely no time to collect himself, figure out where the hell he was, because Ministry officials were racing towards him under ice-capped trees.

"Finite Apparecium!" one of them shouted. James was hit square in the chest.

They'd disabled him. He couldn't Apparate.

"James Potter," shouted Lucius Malfoy from the front of the broom formation, "you are the prime suspect in two recent murders. Please remain seated."

James watched them coming toward him, in a state of utter bewilderment, complete shock. Then he turned, saw Ellen's carcass covered in frozen blood, looked at his own robes covered with the same substance.

Panic.

He got up and ran.

~*

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit --

His legs pumped, wind stung his face, his heart raced -- James glanced over his shoulder, to see them gaining on him -- he ran as fast as he could, at the same time, thinking frantically:

Why am I running? -- Because they're chasing me. -- But why are they chasing me? --

Did I --

No. No time to think, no energy to think -- he looked over his shoulder again to see all six officials right behind him, close enough to grab his cloak, Lucius grinning --

He threw himself on the ground, and they all went zooming ahead of him -- James leapt up and ran the opposite way -- towards the woods --

"BACK!" Lucius Malfoy commanded, and they turned around in the blink of an eye to the woods on the edge of the park. "HE'S IN THE WOODS -- FLY!"

"I don't see him, Mr. Malfoy!" another official shouted as he scanned the trees.

"He can't have gone far, he's on foot. Let's go!"

And they flew off through the trees -- with amazing skill and speed, James had to admit as he watched them zoom past him. A couple wizards glanced at him, and, for good measure, he lowered his head and ate some bushes.

He watched them until they were out of sight and Malfoy's now frenzied orders could no longer be heard, then galloped back out into the moonlit playground across the snow.

LILY'S HOUSE

Lily was extremely tired, but she lay in bed for over an hour trying to go to sleep. Petunia was playing Christmas tapes downstairs in the den and she and her boyfriend Vernon were talking and laughing louder and louder as they drank more and more wine. Family value my ass, she thought to herself bitterly, pummeling her pillow.

Finally she decided this had to stop. She threw back her covers, shivered in the cold air, and was making her way downstairs when the doorbell rang.

Petunia and Vernon were suddenly silent, and Lily stopped too. It's nearly midnight. Who --

When nobody moved to answer the door, the bell rang three times in a row.

Unaware of Lily on the stairs, Petunia staggered to the door, peeked out of it, and screamed.

"Good God, what is the matter?" Vernon demanded as Petunia fluttered around him, shouting, "There's -- there's a thing!"

"A thing?" Lily said, running down the stairs. Her sister was drunk and scared. She was senseless. "What thing; Petunia, tell me what's out there!"

"A deer! An animal on our doorstep!"

Vernon, most likely imagining a deer ringing a doorbell, started laughing. It was too much for him. He fell over and when he hit the floor, he was asleep.

Lily sighed, calmed. A deer? For Heaven's sake. She'd thought for a moment that they were being attacked, judging by the sheer horror on her sister's face. Gee, it's good to know I've got a sister I can count on in a crisis situation, she thought as she went to the door and opened it.

James Potter was standing there in the dark on the porch. "Evans --" he started.

"He's not a deer," Lily snapped at her sister over her shoulder. Petunia stared at James, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. "There -- was --"

Lily looked at James. He blurted quickly, "A deer came -- but -- then he left -- Evans, I've got to talk to you!"

Lily was surprised by the panic in his voice, and immediately invited him into the house, and when he stepped into the light, she gasped.

"What --"

He glanced down at the blood covering his robes and shook his head swifltly. "It's not mine -- not that that makes it any better -- Lily, you've got to help me, I'm in so much trouble!"

"Of course I'll help you," Lily assured him, doing her best to sound calm and composed. "Come into the kitchen, and tell me what's going on." They both stepped over Vernon Dursley and left Petunia staring wide-eyed after them. "Take off your shirt."

James put all his clothing that was caked with dried blood on the island countertop, and Lily handed him a washrag to wash his hands and arms. "Potter . . . whose blood is it?" she asked evenly.

James set the washrag in the sink and looked down. "Ellen Bones'."

Silence. He couldn't meet her eyes. Then, Lily replied in a strangled voice, "It can't be -- I just talked to her!"

James looked up. "When?"

"About -- about three hours ago . . ."

"Well, I saw her three minutes ago," James said quickly. "In the playground down the street. The Ministry officials will have picked her up by now."

Lily's hand fluttered down on the table, and she collapsed in a chair. So much for calm.

James watched her, her green eyes bright with tears, and suddenly all he wanted was to hug her silken body, take her in his arms and hold her against his heart . . . but of course he didn't, and it took great strength for him to say slowly, "Lily, they think I killed her."

Lily looked up at him.

"Did you?"

James recoiled slightly. His instinct was to defend himself confidently, and he had been ready to do so, had thought himself completely innocent until she'd asked that question.

The truth, James thought. ". . . I don't know."

Lily hadn't expected that. She stood up swiftly. "What do you mean, you don't know?" she demanded.

"I don't remember, Evans!" he shouted. "I was at the party, I got bored, I went into the kitchen, and then next thing I know I'm lying in the snow next to Ellen's body and there are six Ministry officials chasing me! I don't know!"

"All right . . . all right . . ." Lily breathed, putting her face in her hands. James had never yelled at her before.

James touched her shoulder, feeling the silk. "Do you believe me?" he asked softly.

She looked into his eyes. "Oh -- of course I do. . . . I can't believe I asked that, I'm so sorry. I know you'd never . . ." She trailed off. Oh, Ellen . . .

Gratefulness, sadness, and helplessness diffused across James face. ". . .What am I going to do?" he whispered.

"I don't know," Lily whispered back. She took his hand from her shoulder and held it. "But I'll help you, I promise . . ."

And this time James knew he wasn't imagining the tender expression in her eyes.

A faint pop interrupted them. James and Lily took their hands away from each other and looked around to see Albus Dumbledore, who'd just Apparated into the kitchen.

"Dumbledore!" James exclaimed.

"He didn't do it!" Lily exclaimed immediately after.

"Of course he didn't," Dumbledore said, folding his long hands together. "It doesn't matter. The Ministry is still trying to locate him. They are getting tips from Lucius Malfoy."

"So you know what's going on?" James said with a relieved sigh.

"And more," Dumbledore said, bowing his head. "You must come to Godric's Hollow immediately, James."

~*

DECEMBER 22, 1979 -- GODRIC'S HOLLOW

James was sitting at the table in his dining room with his head in his hands. Sirius was pacing in front of the fire, Remus was sitting silent in a chair, and Peter was sitting on the table. His most trusted friends . . . James had a feeling even they couldn't help him this time. He had just related everything to them, with Lily's account of her last conversation with Ellen. Dumbledore had taken Lily to find Edgar Bones and Emmeline Vance and talk with them.

"Let me get this straight," Sirius said, halting his pacing for a moment. "You remember going into the kitchen, then waking up in the snow next to Ellen Bones's body? That's all?"

"That's all."

"You don't remember talking to me after going into the kitchen?"

James looked up aptly. "I talked to you?"

"He did, didn't he?" Remus said slowly.

"Well, what did I say?" James pressed impatiently.

Sirius shifted guiltly. "I, er . . . I hate to say this, but . . . I don't recall."

"You don't remember?" James exclaimed. "Try harder! Padfoot, I've been accused of murder! What the hell did I say?"

"Prongs, man . . . there was alchohol and there was a dateless Emmie Vance talking to me . . ."

"Oh, fine time to indulge in your crush!"

"Arguing isn't going to solve any of this," Remus said sharply. "If Sirius can't remember, he can't remember. Peter, you didn't happen to hear anything that was said between them, did you?"

Peter shook his head. "I was talking to Arabella Figg."

"Hang on!" Sirius said suddenly. "You left afterwards! So you must have just told me you were leaving."

"Where was I going?" James asked.

"You didn't say."

"I didn't say -- or you just don't remember what I said?"

"James, really. I'm telling you everything I know, mate. I don't want you to go to Azkaban."

"But someone else does," Dumbledore interrupted as he stepped into the dining room with Lily in tow.

The four Marauders stood abruptly with all their attention on the Headmaster. He and Lily both looked extremely grave.

"Did you find Edgar and Emmeline?"

Lily went to James's side. "Edgar's dead."

James stared at Dumbledore. The room was silent.

"Edgar --" Remus muttered.

". . . dead?" Sirius finished.

James and Lily's eyes locked. There was no hiding her concern.

"I suppose I killed him, too," James said, deadpan.

"You did not kill anyone," Dumbledore said firmly. "There is no question of that. However, the Ministry is intent on believing you did. They know you're here and they're on their way."

"What?" James exlaimed. The four Marauders had stood again with shock.

"We've got to get him out of here, then!" Sirius said urgently. Dumbledore shook his head.

"What do you think it would look like if James continued to run? He must allow himself to be caught, and tell the truth about what happened."

"I've only got about half the truth, though!"

"James, piecing together what I've heard from you, Lily, and Emmeline, there doesn't seem to be enough evidence to convict you of anything you've been accused of. The only solution I can think of is that you allow yourself to be caught, go to trial, and tell the truth. We must not allow you to be taken out of control of this house; you all know why. If you keep eluding the Ministry, James, when they finally catch you, you'll go straight to Azkaban."

"No, they can't!" Lily protested. "They can't take him without a trial!"

"Lily, for weeks now murders like this have been happening -- without a shred of evidence to convict anyone on. You must understand that now they've got an actual suspect for this crime, they're going to do everything they can within the law to convict him."

"Then what hope do we have?" Sirius muttered. He was trying hard not to think of the Boneses, or Emmeline -- what must she be feeling right now? "The Ministry has absolute power of cases like this."

"The Ministry does not have absolute power," Dumbledore corrected. "Notice my words: they will do anything within the law." He looked around at the crestfallen faces; Sirius rubbing his temples, Remus looking despondent, Peter scraping the corner of the table with his fingernail thoughtfully, James with his head in his hands and Lily beside him, her green eyes dulled. "You can come through this, James, and with the help you have here, I would guess its very likely that you will."

James looked up with a glimmer of hope. "What do you propose I do?"

"Find someone to represent you in court. I myself would do it, but . . ." His eyes twinkled, "As you well know, I do not carry a positive reputation. I rather think you'll fare better with a friend of the Ministry."

"You know someone in particular?"

"I have some ideas."

James nodded, and Dumbledore exited the kitchen. A moment of silence was followed by the sound of swirling flames as Dumbledore took some Floo powder to the Ministry.

~*

Dumbledore had hardly been away three seconds when James changed his mind. He sat up suddenly, startling the other four. "Evans!" Lily looked at him inquiringly. "You can represent me!"

Lily shook her head fearfully. "I couldn't possibly."

"Yes, you can, and you're the only one."

"What about me?" Sirius put in, pained.

"I don't trust anybody who works for the Ministry --" James went on, ignoring him.

"Dumbledore does; that ought to be enough to know, Potter --"

"I know they can be trusted, but I don't personally trust them."

Lily sat down in a chair next to him, and argued pleadingly, "James, that doesn't make any sense. I haven't got the slightest knowledge of anything related to law --"

"Don't give me that, you've got a slight bit of knowledge about everything," James retorted. "And you've got a phenomenal reputation -- they'll listen to you."

"But what would I say?" Defeated, Lily collapsed in a chair next to him.

"What really happened." Sensing her anxiousness, James leaned closer to her and spoke consolingly. "The truth, Evans; how hard can it be?"

It was difficult to raise her eyes to him, but she did. "What if I do represent you . . . and you get sent to Azkaban?" she said with a trembling voice.

James shook his head and smiled slightly. "At least I'll know we did the best we could."

Sirius, still bitter, interjected, "If you two would be so kind as to let me know before you smooch so I have time to run, that'd be great."

James and Lily shrank back from each other slightly, as though they'd just realized they weren't alone together in the room. James glared at Sirius, and then picked up his cloak from the back of the chair. "I'll tell Dumbledore."

~*

[A/N: The chapter before the trial takes place is pretty short and condensed, because I'm too lazy to write it; I just wanna skip to the James's hearing, which is when it gets really juicy!! Rita Skeeter's gonna have a field day. Also because I wanna finish this so I can concentrate more on this other story I'm working on (A Lament for Lily and Harry -- check it out! You can find it here: www.fanfiction.net/~EmmelineVance ;)

Not since her seventh year at Hogwarts did Lily remember having to cope with such stress; only this time, it wasn't her marks that were in danger -- it was the privacy and safety of the Order of the Phoenix, the lives of those who depended upon it, and James's freedom.

His freedom. . . . The only thing harder than the destruction of the Order for Lily to imagine was James behind bars. He couldn't survive a life like that, Lily knew; as the days passed leading to James's trial, she witnessed his slow, steady deterioration in spirit as hope for his acquital diminished. They had decided to tell the truth: that James had been summoned to the place of Ellen Bones's death and had his memory of her murder erased. There was certainly not enough evidence to prove him innocent; but the key thing was, there didn't seem to be enough evidence to prove him guilty either.

"My hope -- my assumption is that the circumstances which you can relate to the court clearly connotate the fact that someone framed you," Lily told him during one of their many business meetings at the dining room table adjacent to the fire in Godric's Hollow. She searched through her bundle of research parchment and pulled out several specific sheets. "Obviously, this isn't an unusual case. Other forces have used Memory Charms to replace blame in the past; our only disadvantage is the time this happened. The Ministry is looking to bring you down, but if you stick to the truth nothing can go wrong."

During Lily's speech, James only stared at her as he leaned his chin against his arms crossed on the table. He didn't respond. Lily put her papers down.

"Potter, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, I am, actually," James said half-heartedly. "L -- You know, whenever you tell me nothing can go wrong, I actually believe it for a moment."

James was then severely aware of her piercing eyes on his; he'd almost called her Lily again. He realized he was thinking of her as 'Lily' in his mind, now, instead of 'Evans'. Funny. It had taken him so long to get used to that when they'd started dating, and when they'd broken up, his mind had slipped easily back into 'Evans'-mode again. Now, suddenly, her first name was coming to him without thought.

He needed to get away from that green light; he hid his face in his arms. "How many days do I have left?"

"Many," Lily said softly. "They can't put you in Azkaban. I won't let them."

"How many days?" James repeated, looking up. She hesitated, and then --

"Two."

James put his head back down. "I think I watched Ellen Bones die that night," he whispered.

Lily looked away, her tears sudden and unexpected. She swallowed hard and said in a voice stronger than she felt, "Are you remembering something?"

James shook his head. "I don't remember any of it, any of that night."

Well, he remembered the party. He remembered watching Frank and Alice Longbottom dance, and that searing pain in his heart, and going into the kitchen with it -- and then nothing.

Lily was silent and he looked up to see her face stricken with grief.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," he murmured. She shook her head dismissively.

"No, you need to tell me anything that's on your mind. Even a sliver of memory could help some evidence surface."

"This won't help. Lily, I can't help thinking I could have saved her. If I was with her when she died, I could have -- done something different . . ."

Now it was James's turn to confront tears, of guilt. But he was able to hold them back as Lily reached across the table and took his hand and held it.

~*

Sleep. Sleep was what James needed. He hadn't had a good night's sleep for over a week, and he was exhausted.

Exhausted, but not tired, somehow. Wearing his drawstring sleep pants, James was sitting on the couch in front of the fire in his bedroom, looking into it thoughtfully. His mind was fatigued, his body felt as though it needed to shut down for a few hours in the night, but he couldn't imagine sleeping right now.

Would this be his last night in Godric's Hollow? Would this be the last time he ever felt the warmth of a blazing fire in his room before being shipped of to Azkaban, where he would live in fear and despair for the remainder of his long life?

He was still, thinking . . . despairing. . . . What hope do I have?

The fire seemed to answer -- it flared up briefly into the shape of a woman.

James's mind shifted. Lily. She is my hope.

Lily. He couldn't think of her without his mind swirling into a tumult of confusion. There was no doubt she cared about him; she had done so much for him in the long previous days, it was obvious.

But was there something more than that?

Doubtful. She had broken up with him.

Then James realized that the fire was taking shape again, the same as before, this time clearer -- sure enough, a moment later, Lily herself stepped out of the fireplace, rubbing soot from her eyes.

"Are you doing okay?" Lily asked. James started to nod, but then realized that wouldn't be the truth.

"Stayin' awake."

"No, you're not. Get up, you're going to bed." Lily put her hands out to James. He struggled to stand, and succeeded, but had to lean against her for support.

"Oh! Potter . . ." Lily breathed in surprise. James felt his mind slipping away; somehow it was easier to let go of consciousness now that Lily was here. They walked to his bed and he was vaguely aware of her voice, "Now get undressed. Take off your shirt." But then, his legs bumped into the bed, and he layed down in it, immediately succumbing to the soft cotton sheets.

Lily sighed and removed his shirt herself, then his socks and pants. She took off his glasses, cleaned them, and put them on the nightstand, and put out the fire. Embers remained, casting the slightest glow about the room.

Lily stood next to James's bed, looking at him for a long time. His face was content, almost childlike, as he slept. Her heart hurt for him, feared for him.

Then she turned and started to leave the room, thankful that for the first time since that Christmas party James was at peace, and hoping against hope that that peace would not be disturbed by the events of tomorrow, whatever they would be.

But, after a thought, Lily passed the door and continued to his closet. She opened it, fished around for an old t-shirt behind his work robes and cloaks, and took off her own clothes. She pulled James's shirt over her head, brushed out her hair, and went back and climbed under the covers next to him, curling her arm about his chest, wondering, if he had been awake, what his reaction would have been.

~*

James awoke to a most pleasant feeling: Lily's arm draped across his chest.

He turned his head and looked at her in astonishment. She was still sleeping, her forehead pressed into his shoulder. He looked down and noticed he was only wearing his underwear, and that Lily was wearing one of his shirts.

Amazing. James allowed himself to indulge, just for a moment. His sweetest dreams had come true as he dreamt them.

He felt like lying there forever. He could have spent forever mulling this over in his mind, working out its meaning, but there was no time. He only had forty minutes until his trial.

~*

THE TRIAL

James walked silently to the chair in the middle of the courtroom. The benches surrounding him were tall and threatening, powerful authority, save for the one directly behind him where his friends sat. The table in front of him was where the key figures in the trial sat: the Minister of Magic, his prosecutor, Lucius Malfoy, a scribe, and Rita Skeeter, whose Quik-Quotes Quill was already working at high speed.

Lily was supposed to be sitting in the third chair. She wasn't, however, because the paperwork she had filed as James's lawyer had mysteriously disappeared. In its place there was paperwork placing her in the position of Lucius Malfoy's witness.

James hadn't seen Lily since that morning; he'd left her sleeping to shower, and when he came out she was gone. He desperately wanted a moment to talk to her, to ask her to leave the trial, to sacrifice everything she'd done for him; Malfoy was dirty, and he would play dirty, and James did not want to see Lily under his inquiries on the witness stand -- but there was no chance for him to talk to her. She was speaking quietly to Dumbledore (whom he hoped was trying to talk her out of it) and he was sitting down in the chair under the incriminating eyes of the jury.

And as soon as he sat down, the chains came up around his legs and wrists.

Behind him, Lily, stricken, started to advance towards him and protest, but Dumbledore held her back. Rita Skeeter's Quill was working madly.

James looked with hollow eyes up at Cornelius Fudge. Funny. He usually seemed so small. The Minister of Magic introduced the participants of the trial to the scribe, and then stated the accusation: "James Potter, suspected of murdering Amelia Bones and Edgar Bones on the night of the 20th of December, 1979." James listened with half an ear. He could hardly believe he was sitting here with these chains around his ankles and wrists. He felt as though he was watching himself from afar, his face fallen and hopeless. It was too surreal, almost dreamlike.

"As Mr. Potter failed to apoint himself a lawyer," Fudge said snidely, "Lucius, you may begin your questioning."

I had a lawyer. Your trusted employee rigged this trial, James wanted to say, but he held his tongue. "Don't speak unless you're asked to," Lily had told him.

Malfoy strutted across the room and stood in front of James. James looked back at him stonily. The truth. The truth couldn't be too hard, could it? He could take it. He could take any damn questions that were thrown at him. Nothing could prove that he had committed murder.

"Mr. Potter, where were you on the night of December 20th?"

"I was hosting a Christmas party at my house, Godric's Hollow."

"But you left the party."

"Yes."

"And where did you go?"

"To a park in Surrey."

"Where our Ministry officials found you bending over Miss Bones' body, with her blood all over your clothes."

James said nothing.

"Why did you go to this park?"

"I don't remember."

"How did you get there?"

"I don't remember."

So far, so good. He sounded confident. He felt confident.

"Do you remember bending over Miss Bones' body with her blood all over your clothes?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember Ministry officials finding you there and ordering you to remain in place?"

"Yes."

"And what did you do?"

James swallowed hard. "I ran."

Malfoy's eyes glinted. "Why did you run?"

Because you were at the front of the formation, slimeball.

"First instinct. I didn't think."

Malfoy turned to Fudge. "Hardly an exceptable answer. It is clear, sir, that this is a poorly formulated excuse for an alibi. I have nothing more to ask of Mr. Potter."

A titter of voices arose in the jury behind him, and James knew what they were thinking. That was it? That was all Malfoy was going to ask him?

"Order in the court, please!" the Minister demanded, and the jury quieted. Then there was silence except for the scratching of Rita Skeeter's Quill. "Mr. Potter, have you anything to say in defense of Malfoy's accusations?"

"Yes, sir," James said calmly. "I'd like to say that my answers were the complete and total truth. I remember being at the party, and I remember finding myself in a playground next to Ellen Bones' body, but nothing in between. Obviously, someone modified my memory. Someone framed me."

"Do you have any proof of this memory modification?"

"You can't prove memory modification!" Lily exclaimed from behind him, taking everyone by surprise.

"Miss Evans, you have not been recognized to speak!" Fudge said, looking livid. "Lucius, are you sure you are quite finished with your inquiry?"

"Yes, sir, but I would like to call my next witness, Lily Evans, to the stand."

~*

James's heart sank. He turned to look at her and shook his head ever so slightly, but she did not return his gaze and either ignored or didn't see his protest. Sirius did, and put his hand on Lily's shoulder, but she walked the witness stand nonetheless, her head held high, and sat regally. Malfoy looked down at her. James held his breath.

"Miss Evans, can you relate to us the events of December 20th, 1979?"

"Certainly. I was not at the party. I was at home, and Potter came to my door and asked me for help. He told me promptly that Ministry officials were chasing him and he didn't know why. We learned that he was suspected for the murder of Ellen Bones. Shortly afterward, we were conversing and trying to figure out why he couldn't remember and what was happening. Then we received word that Edgar Bones, Ellen Bones' twin brother, had been murdered and that Potter was suspected for that as well. The trouble is, Malfoy, that Potter was with me at the time of Edgar Bones' death."

"You are saying, Miss Evans, that Potter could not have murdered Edgar Bones, but he could have murdered his twin sister."

"No, sir, that was not my point. I was saying that if this Ministry intended to catch a killer they could not have convicted James Potter for these murders. As it is, the Ministry is interested in creating a killer and then catching him to give the public some closure."

The jury didn't just titter this time; a babble of voices broke out. James had to hold back a laugh at her frankness; behind him, Sirius did laugh. Fudge and Malfoy had equal expressions of lividity on their faces.

"Miss Evans, are you quite finished with this propoganda?" Fudge demanded.

"Propoganda, sir?"

He was so angry he could hardly find sentences. "Lucius -- finish up before she makes up more stories."

"Yes, sir." Malfoy stepped closer to Lily with an aura of power greater than before, with his anger added to the mix now.

"Miss Evans, your testification neither advances or sets back this case. There is little evidence to point to any conclusion."

"Pardon me, sir, but I was not originally planning to act as your witness. I was planning to act as Mr. Potter's lawyer, so what I have done is raised questions contradicting the currect evidence. If you believe it is possible to view my insights as unimportant, then I can scarcely believe we are in the same courtroom."

"A present witness, Evans, informs us that you and Potter had an intimate relationship throughout your 7 years at Hogwarts. My question becomes this: was it so intimate that you would be willing to commit perjury to save him?"

Lily blushed, her guard falling momentarily for the first time. ". . . Quite the contrary, sir. Mr. Potter and I were . . . childhood rivals. For the majority of our time at Hogwarts we were on very unfriendly terms."

"And the minority?"

"What does that have to do with --" James began furiously, but not sound came out of his mouth. His voice had been temporarily disabled, probably by Sirius or Remus behind him, so he wouldn't talk himself into trouble.

"We became --" Lily paused uncomfortably -- "friends in the 7th year. I assure you this has no influence on my present actions. I am merely presenting the truth of the situation."

"So the accused has no personal value to you, Evans? Then I suppose your choosing to sleep at his house last night was not an act of personal value?"

James stared in fury and horror and Malfoy, then the Minister; his throat worked soundlessly, but nobody was even looking at him; all attention was fixed on Lily.

"Godric's Hollow is frequented by Mr. Potter's friends. It's not uncommon for any of us to retire there on occasion," Lily said in a small voice.

"Oh? And is it equally common for his 'friends' to retire to Mr. Potter's own bed?"

Lily was now absolutely speechless. James tried to leap out of his chair but the chains grabbed at him -- nobody noticed his impassioned struggles because behind him, Sirius leapt up and exclaimed, "Objection! How did you get that information?"

"You are a spectator of this trial, Mr. Black!" Malfoy said.

"There was espionage involved, wasn't there? How dare you! How dare you invade such privacy; how dare you attribute their relationship to a matter of shame!"

For the third time the jury broke out in a babble of voices. A triumphant grin spread across Malfoy's face. Without knowing it, Sirius had just answered Malfoy's questions exactly the way he wanted. Lily stared at him. James stared at Lily, begging silently, Look at me. Look at me, Lily, and leave that stand.

And a whisper of her name escaped his lips. He could speak again.

"Ah! Progress! Thank you, Mr. Black," Malfoy said gleefully. "Miss Evans, do you confirm or deny these accusations?"

"Your honor!" James exclaimed. "Miss Evans is not being put on trial, I am."

"You have not been recognized to speak, Mr. Potter. Miss Evans, are you and the accused not lovers?"

"Your honor, forgive me for speaking plainly," James pressed, "but I must beg you to allow Miss Evans to step down from the witness stand."

"Very soon, Mr. Potter," said Malfoy calmly. "My conclusions, your honor, formed after observing the circular methods Miss Evans uses to answer my questions, are that she has something to hide and would twist the truth to save her lover's freedom."

"Miss Evans, you are dismissed," said Fudge.

Lily left the witness stand. She had not helped him; that James knew, but found right now he didn't care. He was just glad she was done being questioned, and wished he hadn't pulled her into this; it hurt him to see her up there under such inquiries. And as she was passing him to sit down, their eyes met for the first time since the night before. Her expression was deeply ashamed; but James nodded with a small smile, communicating to her his pride in her fortitude.

As soon as Lily saw that nod, her expression changed, and she turned back to face Fudge.

"Minister, if I have been twisting the truth, I would like the opportunity to make up for it now before the court is adjourned."

"You've been dismissed!" Malfoy said.

"Lily, don't," James whispered. He was fully aware he was addressing her by her first name in front of everyone, in front of the top reporter of the Daily Prophet (Rita Skeeter's Quill was scribbling at a near-impossible speed) but he didn't care. The entire courtroom knew much more than that now, thanks to Lucius Malfoy.

"Lucius, I hardly think anything she says can make this situation better," said Fudge drearily. "Continue, Miss Evans."

Lily began quietly, all her attention focused on the Minister.

"Maybe I do love Potter. If so, why would I be inclined to deny it?"

James gazed at her in astonishment. The jury, the prosecutors, the judge, and the press shared similar expressions; but Lily forged on, building confidence with every word.

"Love is scarce in this world; hate and death outnumber it. We never really know who to trust. Any man in this courtroom could be having direct contact with the Dark Lord, and you would never know it, and that makes you all afraid; and instead of letting bravery and love stem from this fear you use it attack." Her voice raised and the Minister said nothing to suppress her. "You are frantic to accuse him and put him in jail, even though there is no evidence that Potter committed the murder except the evidence that could easily be seen as an attempt to frame him! Everyone in this room who is acquainted with James Potter knows that he could not possibly have committed this crime, but you are so desperate to place blame, you will put him in Azkaban despite what you know, simply to temporarily satisfy your own and the public's need to understand what is going on, what is happening to our world -- a lame attempt to regain control of this world as it crumbles under your feet. Maybe if you did love, if you did trust, if you did look deeper at what is wrong and what is right, who is Dark and who is Light instead of running around and pointing fingers at anyone whose photo might look good under the words 'GUILTY' on the front page of the Daily Prophet, you might find strength -- we could band together, unite, and take back our world! Thank you, Your Honor; that is all I have to say."

And she sat down at the table behind James, her arms folded dutifully.

No one moved. Rita Skeeter's Quik-Quotes Quill was absolutely still. James stared at the floor, his mind awhirl with emotions and thoughts incomprehensible.

Finally, Fudge cleared his throat. "This -- erm -- this court is adjourned. The defendant shall be released until the jury decides his verdict."

Released?

James half-heard. He was released? He was free?

The chair's chains slipped down off his wrists. Everyone around him was getting to their feet, gathering papers and notes and cloaks, but James just sat there. He turned his head slightly to the right to look at Lily; she rolled up a parchment and then looked at him, and was still. The two were motionless and stable among the restless, rustling attendants exiting the courtroom, sharing silent questions and answers.

[A/N: One more chapter to go… then it'll be done!]