Between the Lines

Dark Arts and Innocence

James Potter ran to the end of the platform and peered into the distance. He was looking for a puff of white steam that would signal the arrival of the Hogwarts Express. It was the very last time he would ever wait on the platform for his cousin Harry's return. Next year, James would be on the train himself. "No sign yet!" he called to the two pairs of Potters who were watching with him.

His parents, Henry and Moira, stood close to each other. Neither were in any hurry for their only child to go off to Hogwarts in the fall, but they weren't so old that they had forgotten the excitement. James had talked non-stop this week about the fun he was going to have at school with Harry. Henry said privately that James would sing a different tune after his first detention.

His Uncle Charlus and Aunt Dorea were watching James and thinking that "only yesterday" their son Harry was that young. Harry had sent them an owl this week reminding them that he was almost of age. Rising seventh-years were to be accorded a sort of dignity and he did not want to be embarrassed by a public display of emotions.

Charlus and Henry had promptly created a massive sign that not only flashed Harry's name but called out cute endearments and played band music. As an added touch, the sign was enchanted to seek out Harry and hover over his head until he passed through the barrier to Muggle London. The two mothers put a stop to it, and now Dorea and Charlus were each practising a dignified, restrained expression. The effort was almost too much for Charlus.

James began to whoop and called out, "Here she is! The Express is here!" Witches and wizards, and young children rushed closer to the tracks and there was a buzz of excitement. The train pulled in; her doors opened and a mass of teens and preteens pushed into the crowd. Others leaned out of windows to search for familiar faces.

Dorea and Charlus scanned the windows of the train, looking for Harry, when all of a sudden Dorea was lifted off her feet and spun around. "Mummy!" Harry spun a second time then set her carefully down. He turned to Charlus, called, "Daddy!" and made as if to lift the very solid wizard. Charlus returned a matching grin and managed to keep his feet on the ground while offering a firm handshake.

Harry leaned down to kiss his aunt and said with a dignified air, "Thank you for coming, Aunt Moira." Then he turned to his namesake and held out his hand, "Hello, Uncle. Good of you to come." He leaned closer and said in a stage whisper, "I did so hope the parents would show some restraint, but what is one to do?"

Through the noise of the crowd they began to hear a voice calling, "Harry! Harry!" James was trying to push his way back though the crowd to reach them.

"James! James!" Harry imitated and began to push his way toward the younger boy. The Potters were all laughing at the pantomime, but those being shoved about were not so pleased. At last the cousins were reunited and were headed back to their parents. James was looking up, talking animatedly. Harry was bent toward his cousin, giving his full attention.

When they drew closer, James could be heard saying, "It's a good broom, isn't it, Harry? Not the fastest, of course. Dad says I need to learn on a steady broom first. He said he'll get me another broom when I make the team. Dad says he'll get the best one for whatever position I play." Harry was nodding eagerly, unable to get a word in.

"The holidays will be over too quickly," Moira said, watching them.

"Don't start!" Henry ordered. "You'll be crying over the goodbyes before you've said a proper hello." He turned to the boys. "Say goodbye, James. We'll let them have their own reunion now."

"But I can't say goodbye, I haven't said hello!" James protested.

Henry tried to look stern, but he was amused that James had just turned his own speech against him. They waited a moment or two, allowing others to pass through the barrier and letting James and Harry have a few moments.

Moira understood how much Dorea wanted to see her son, and so finally gave Harry a goodbye kiss on the cheek. "We're happy to see you. Come over soon and tell us all about Hogwarts."

"I will, Aunt Moira. S'long, James. I'll see you tomorrow."

A young witch paused as she neared the barrier. "Harry, you're coming to Aunt Cassiopeia's party, aren't you?"

Harry looked up, flustered. "Yeah, Bellatrix. I'll be there."

She smiled back. "Good! Everyone else will be too. It'll be great fun."

She moved on quickly, catching up with her family. James saw Aunt Dorea go pale and Uncle Charlus look displeased. Before James could say anything, his parents had whisked him through the barrier.

"But who was she?" he asked when they were home.

"A classmate of Harry's," Henry said abruptly, and tried to change the subject. "I think we should have enchanted a welcome home sign after all. Harry would have liked it. We're going to make them up for next year--big, loud, silly ones. We'll make a fortune at Zonko's!"

"But why was Aunt Dorea upset?" James insisted.

Henry gave up and Moira sat on sofa beside James. "I think it was one of Harry's cousins. Your Aunt Dorea doesn't get along with her family."

"I know. She's told us all about them and the Dark Magic they do," James said. "But why was she upset about that girl? Is she a Dark Witch? Harry would never practice Dark Magic."

Moira reached over and brushed a lock of hair from James's face. "It worries your aunt that he spends so much time with his cousins at school. They aren't the best influence."

"Maybe Harry will influence them," James suggested. To his mind the matter was settled. "Harry is going to teach me some Quidditch tricks."

Henry was glad the subject had finally changed and was determined to keep it moving. "Oh, I think Charlus and I could teach both of you a thing or two about flying. We'll close up shop one day, and all go to the pitch."

"Are you sure, dear?" Moira said softly.

"You're never too old to play Quidditch!" Henry protested.

James was up early the next morning to go flying with Harry. They were out most of the day and came back sweaty and dirty. James talked of nothing but Quidditch through supper. "Harry says I'm sure to be on the Gryffindor team."

"You're not sorted yet," Henry pointed out.

"Harry says I'll be in Gryffindor for sure," James answered.

"Nothing wrong with my house, you know," Moira offered.

Henry pretended to choke. "I don't think the boy is Ravenclaw material. James, have you ever read a book?"

"I've read loads of Quidditch books," he answered. "Harry says I'll do fine at Hogwarts. He says the teachers are all nice. Well, Harry says the transfiguration teacher is a cat. Do you think a cat could teach magic? I think it's a joke. But Harry says it's true."

"Minerva McGonagall is an Animagus," Moira said. "She should have been in Ravenclaw."

The next day an owl came with a note. 'Sorry, James,' it read 'I have to go somewhere today. I'll catch you later. Has your letter come yet?'

James grumbled, but found other things to do. A week passed with no further word. "He's a teenager, James. Give him some space," His parents suggested.

On a cold, rainy day Harry finally came. Moira thought he looked pale, but his mood was cheerful. Ignoring Moira's disapproval, the boys took their brooms out to the pitch between the houses and flew in the rain. She followed and called out advice from the ground, wand ready if James fell off. They all came home wet and cold. The boys were exhilarated.

She rushed around after them, making 'tsking' noises and giving instructions about muddy shoes and where to put the wet robes. They were so happy, she couldn't bring herself to scold them. The house-elf followed behind them all, silently cleaning up three sets of muddy prints and puddles.

Once dry, they sat by the fire in the parlour, drinking hot chocolate. The boys were reviewing their game, nudging each other and grinning widely. "You're a natural, James! I'm going to talk Graymalkin--"

"Harry!"

"Professor McGonagall," Harry amended, grinning apologetically at his aunt. "I'm going to convince Professor McGonagall to let you play. First-years aren't allowed, but I think we can make an exception."

"You could be the youngest player on Ravenclaw's team!" Moira exclaimed, and hid her smile at their protests.

Harry finished his hot chocolate and started his goodbyes. "You'll come back tomorrow, won't you?" James asked.

"No," Harry answered slowly. "I have to go somewhere tomorrow. Maybe next week."

Moira moved in quickly. "Come anytime, Harry. You're always wanted here."

Harry's face turned red. "Yes, of course. I will."

One week turned into two, and still no visit. Aunt Dorea came to see Moira. Moira went to visit Aunt Dorea. But there was no Harry. James heard his parents talking about Harry one night.

"He's spending all his time with the Black sisters and the Rosiers," Moira complained.

"All this time Charlus and Dorea kept him away from her family, and Harry meets them at school. We should have seen it coming."

James heard his mother start to cry, and his father's comforting voice. "Harry's a good boy. He's got a good head and he knows what Dark Magic can do. He won't be foolish."

James's Hogwarts letter arrived a few days later. He read it twice, ran around the room waving it and at last dropped by the kitchen fireplace and tossed a handful of Floo Powder in. "Harry Potter!"

Harry's head appeared in the flames. His hair was sticking out in all directions and his eyes were struggling to stay open. "What is it, James? Why are you calling me so early?"

"My letter! My letter came! I'm going to Hogwarts."

"That is a surprise," Harry snarled.

James's shoulders drooped and he turned away from the fire.

"Oh, hey, just kidding. That's great! Can I go to Diagon Alley with you?" He disappeared for a moment, then stepped out of the fireplace, still wearing his pyjamas. He put one arm around James's shoulder and peered at the letter. The boys grinned at each other.

"Let's get your wand first!" Harry exclaimed. "I can't wait to teach you some magic."

"None of that!" Moira laughed. "James can learn it with everyone else." The boys exchanged a knowing smile. Harry had started teaching James spells the first time he came home from Hogwarts.

Within the hour the two mothers, book lists in hand, and their two sons, excitement in their eyes, were on their way to Diagon Alley. Harry and James dashed to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour as soon as they passed through the brick wall. Dorea and Moira merely shook their heads, unable to deny the boys anything.

Madam Malkin frowned at the ice cream cones, but ushered the four in politely. Harry worked a chilling spell to keep them from melting while he and James put up with the fussing and pinning. The boys ran ahead to Ollivander's. James was trying his second wand before their mothers caught up.

It was on the way to Flourish and Blotts that Harry announced he had an errand and started to move away. Dorea suggested that James should go with him. "Neither one of you are too interested in the books." She was studying the list as she walked.

James took it as permission and dashed after Harry. The older boy was already out of sight in the crowd and James paused, wondering which way to go. He was in Diagon Alley by himself. An adventure! Keeping one eye out for Harry and another on the sights, James zigzagged along the narrow street.

He found himself near the entrance to Knockturn Alley and paused. James looked in, crossed the street and peered from a different angle. He stood on a large planter that held a topiary unicorn to get a better view. He had heard the most wonderfully horrible things about this place.

Harry was coming toward him from the dark alley. James saw Harry slip a pouch into a pocket, look out for a moment, and then step into the sunlight. James stayed frozen to the planter, hidden by the green unicorn, and waited until Harry had gone past several shops. James jumped down and ran after him, calling, "Harry! Harry!"

Harry turned, his face deathly pale. "James! I didn't see you. I was just in--" he looked up at the shops, "in the Kitchen Cabinet. To get something for Mum. Yeah. Only, I didn't really see anything. Where were you?"

James stared a second, then nodded to a vague spot across and down the street. "I came to find you." His eyes darted back to Knockturn Alley.

Harry's eyes followed James's. "Why are you looking over there?"

"Mum and Dad say there are some terrible things in Knockturn Alley."

Harry studied him a moment. "Yeah, I guess so. But our mums and dads don't know everything." James felt a tingling on the back of his neck. There was an uncomfortable silence and Harry added, "Let's find your mother. I have to go meet some friends."

"You do? But we're all having supper at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Yeah, we were--I mean, we are. I'll try to get back in time. Look, there's your mum. Go along. I'll see you later." Harry turned and slipped into the crowd. James called after him, but Harry was gone.

Charlus and Henry joined them at the Leaky Cauldron, but Harry didn't return. James saw the grown-ups exchanging glances, but no one said anything about it. Harry never used to break promises, and James was determined not to be friends with Harry's cousins at school. Within a few moments, the five of them were deep into discussion about life at Hogwarts. Henry and Charlus kept starting stories that Moira and Dorea wouldn't let them finish. Winks from the men let James know he'd hear them all later.

Something woke James early the next morning. He sat up, wondering what it was, and heard hurried footsteps and his parents' voices. James clambered out of bed and ran downstairs. "Mum! Dad!" he called.

Their house-elf was sitting on the kitchen floor, rocking back and forth. "Something's happened to Harry Potter."

James stepped through the Floo Network to his uncle's house and ran from the kitchen to the sound of voices in the parlour. His father was sitting beside Uncle Charlus, arm around his shoulder. His mother was comforting a sobbing Aunt Dorea.

"Dad? What's wrong? Where's Harry?" James blurted.

Henry frowned and crossed the room. "Some mistake with some magic, we think." He paused, swallowing hard.

"Is he at St. Mungo's? Can we see him? Why is everyone still here?"

Henry put his hand on James's shoulder. "Harry is dead, James." James saw the truth in his father's eyes and crumpled into his arms.

After a while the house-elf brought tea. Hours later, there was a knock at the door and two wizards were admitted to the parlour. One wore the lime green robes of a Healer, the other the dark blue of an Auror.

Charlus indicated that Henry and Moira were to stay, and James remained because no one told him to leave. The Auror spoke first.

"I'm very sorry about our news. The cause of death is accidental poisoning from a Dark Concoction. There's quite a few of them that young wizards are trying these days."

"I don't believe it!" Charlus snapped.

"Sir, we found residue of herbs and fungi in his pockets, along with an empty vial of bat's blood. They are all used in the Dark Arts."

The healer stepped forward. "I've examined your son. The cause of death was clearly poisoning. The concoction is one that is used by a wizard to help perform Dark Magic. It's not intended to be a poison, but it is very dangerous and sometimes, if something isn't exactly right, there can be unexpected reactions." The healer paused a moment. "I'm very sorry. I can say with confidence that your son had not been a long-time user--perhaps only a few months. It was most likely a case of Dark Arts experimentation that went horribly wrong."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Dorea and Moira turned to each other and began to cry softly. Charlus and Henry stood side by side, staring silently out the window. James hesitated, then went to stand by the men, quiet tears running down his face.

Memories flashed across his mind. He saw the adventurous, daring, good-hearted cousin he had loved so dearly. The one who had loved him. That Harry would be the one James would remember and honour, but he wouldn't forget that the Dark Arts had taken Harry away.

James Potter would always hate the Dark Arts.