Why We Fight

Part 33:
Revelations
(Thursday, October 27, 1977 -- Continued...)

The higher the spiral staircase seemed to take him, the lower his stomach got. By the time Severus had arrived in the tower Headmaster's Office, he was certain that his stomach was somewhere in the vicinity of the first floor. The black-haired youth swallowed hard as the spiral staircase finally stopped and looked around the Headmaster's office with interest, noticing the portraits snoozing on the walls. There was a table in front of the Headmaster's desk covered with spindly silver objects, and Severus stared at them with confusion, trying to figure out what they were.

"Well, go on!" a nasty-looking, sallow-skinned fellow cried from one of the portraits.

"That's quite enough, Phineas," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"I, um, I need to talk to you," Severus stated. "About Hermione de Lioncourt."

"And just what would you like say about Miss de Lioncourt?" Dumbledore inquired.

---

James and Remus stared at Draco and Hermione in shock; James looked pale. They'd been heading toward their N.E.W.T. Arithmancy class when they'd overheard the conversation. Professor Agnosco be damned; they needed to know what was going on. "What the hell are you talking about?" Remus demanded.

Hermione's eyes widened and she moved to shove the picture back into her bag, but Remus was too quick. He snatched the picture from Hermione and stared at it; James peered over his shoulder at it as well. In the picture, James and Lily were cuddling and every once in a while, James's hand would slide to her stomach to caress the baby bump. Remus blinked, staring from James and Lily to Peter to Sirius to himself.

"What happens to me?" James asked, and Hermione refused to look at him.

"You live happily ever after--" Draco started.

"The truth this time," James said.

"Y--you die," Draco managed.

"And Lily?" he asked.

"She gets widowed," Hermione put in.

James didn't reply. He simply stared at the somewhat older version of himself, snuggled contentedly with his crush, his future wife. He brushed one of his calloused fingers over the image of Lily and she grinned. "So...that's Harry?"

Remus looked to James and then back to Draco and Hermione. "Who's...your friend, Harry!?" he demanded. "Where did you get this?"

James exchanged a look with Draco and Hermione. "We're from the future," Draco said before Hermione could react.

"DRACO!" Hermione hissed. "We talked about this."

"And I told you it was a stupid idea!"

"We can't change the future!" she growled.

"Oh, and you didn't change the future by snogging Padfoot?" he demanded, surprised by the sudden bit of jealousy that had entered his voice. No, no, I do not like Granger! She's a Mudblood know-it-all, he thought.

Hermione blushed brilliantly. "It's none of your business who I snog, Draco Malfoy."

"MALFOY!?" Remus demanded. "And you knew all about this?" He asked this question of James.

"Yeah," James admitted.

"About your death?" Remus asked, swallowing hard.

"No...that comes as a bit of a shock," James stated. He looked pointedly at the two time-travelers. "Actually, a rather large shock."

Draco looked away, his pale skin growing paler. Hermione swallowed hard. "We--we wanted to tell you, but we couldn't," she replied.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it: the future," James said.

"James, you can't be thinking..." Remus trailed off as James refused to meet his eyes. "No. They're obviously here for a reason. You can't..." His golden eyes widened as he looked at the picture once again, the conversation replaying in his mind. "P--Peter...Sirius...oh, God, Sirius, too?" He sank into one of the squashy red loveseats. "No. This isn't happening!" Tears shone in his eyes. "This isn't happening."

James sat beside him. "Moony..." he started, moving a hand to Remus's shoulder.

Remus shoved away from James. "You may be all content to die, but what about them, Prongs!?" he demanded. "What about Padfoot and Wormtail!?" He looked to Draco and Hermione. "How'd it happen? Why am I the only one left?"

"R--Remus," Hermione started. "We can't--!"

"Voldemort," was Draco's answer and Hermione could see the flash of terror in his silver eyes as he mentioned his father's master. "He killed Prongs...and Wormtail..." he trailed off. True, Peter wasn't dead. He wasn't the same person and that could also be blamed on Voldemort. "And B--Bellatrix killed Padfoot."

"Voldemort?" there was a touch of bravado in James's voice. "I can handle him."

"Are you completely and utterly insane?!" Remus demanded. "Did you not hear what he did to these people!?" He gestured wildly toward the picture he still held. "And did you fail to understand the fact that he kills you!?"

A darkness passed over James's face and Hermione was struck by just how much he looked like his son at that moment. Draco moved to speak but Hermione silenced him with a glare. James stared at Draco and Hermione. "What does--did--will Voldemort want with me?"

"I have no idea," Hermione said with a sigh.

Draco swallowed hard. "'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies,'" Draco said.

"Thrice defied," James said, impressed. "Guess fourth time isn't the charm." Remus looked sick at James's attempt at gallows humor.

Hermione stared at Draco, stunned, and ignored James's comment. "W--what?"

"That's why V--Voldemort was after James...because of Harry," Draco stated.

"Where'd you hear that!?" Hermione demanded.

"Father," Draco stated.

"Your father...you mean Lucius," Remus growled. "And your aunt...Bellatrix. You're Narcissa's son." Even in his righteous outrage, he couldn't suppress a shudder at Narcissa's apparent infatuation with her future son. "Your mum wants to...that's disgusting!"

"Yes, alright, fine! My mum wants to do me!" Draco cried. Sirius and Peter chose that moment to walk in.

"Sounds like a personal problem to me," Peter said.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Well...that--that's interesting and definitely gives a new meaning to 'family togetherness,'" he stated.

"Oh, yeah, well, your parents are cousins," Draco sniffed.

Remus moved to talk to Peter and Sirius and James grabbed his shoulder. "Can you give us a second? We were finishing something up," the black-haired boy told Peter and Sirius.

"Oh, right, fine, I know when I'm not wanted," Sirius said, dragging Peter out behind him.

"Put your hand out, Moony," James ordered.

"What?" he demanded.

"You heard me," he stated. "Put your hand out." Warily, Remus put out his hand. "You're going to swear an Unbreakable Vow."

"Prongs!" Remus cried.

"You're going to," James said. "If you've ever been my friend, then you will do this." Remus swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he took James's hand. "You two will be the Bonders."

"Both of them!?" Remus demanded.

"Making sure you can't get out of this, Moony," James replied. Draco's hand was trembling as he pressed his wand against the joined hands and Hermione did the same. The blonde spoke the incantation and the wands glowed red. "Do you swear that you will not tell anyone at all about the death of James 'Prongs' Potter until after it has happened?"

"Y--yes," Remus stated, closing his eyes against the fresh tears. Red flames spat from the wands of Draco and Hermione and wound around Remus and James's hands.

"Do you swear not to tell S--Sirius 'Padfoot' Black about his death?"

Remus swallowed hard and paled more, his hand visibly trembling. "Yes." More flames.

"Do you swear not to tell Peter 'W--Wormtail' Pettigrew about his death?"

"Yes," Remus groaned. The last spurts of flame encircled their hands and the Unbreakable Vow was complete.

---

Severus paced the Headmaster's office nervously as he tried to come up with the proper words to say; Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes watched him while Phineas Nigellus Black was looking rather annoyed. "Blast it! Stop that bloody pacing!" the former Headmaster proclaimed.

With a glare at the portrait, Severus was less-than-delighted to find out that Sirius Black's ancestor was as much as a prat as his descendant. "T--The Dark Lord, he wants Hermione," Severus finally stated.

"You mean Voldemort?" Dumbledore inquired.

Severus stiffened at the mention of his new master's name. "I--I joined them. I know I shouldn't have...now. B--But I just wanted to belong," he stammered, shoving his lank hair out of his pale face.

Dumbledore nodded. "Ah, yes, the need to belong is a very prominent feeling," he said.

"Professor Faust isn't who you think he is," Severus stated.

"He isn't Rastaban Lestrange?" Dumbledore asked. Severus's brow wrinkled at the man's omniscience.

"H--how'd you--?"

"I know a great many things, Mr. Snape," Dumbledore replied. "But the most important thing right now is to protect yourself. Voldemort is a very accomplished Legelimens as you have no doubt figured out by now." Severus shuddered at the memory of the Dark Lord's invasion when he had first become a Death Eater. "And you must learn to shield yourself."

---

"Oh, well, I'm going to be late for class," James said suddenly. The three stared at him, astonished.

"You can't be serious!" Remus cried.

"No, I'm James," James said.

"Okay, that joke's getting old," Hermione stated with a roll of her eyes.

"You just found out you're going to get killed and you're just going to...to go on like nothing has happened?" Remus demanded.

"Moony, if I live every day in fear, then that's no life," he stated. "I know what's going to happen and I've accepted it. Oh, bugger, forgot my Polyjuice." He went back into the Head Boy's room. Draco's silver eyes widened with surprise, and he looked from Hermione and Remus to the closed door. He was at a complete loss of words. People shouldn't react like that to the news of their death.

A few moments later, James came back out in Draco's skin. "Better hurry up there, Whiskers," he stated. "You've got class." James-in-Draco's-body exited the Head common room.

"How--how can he just do that?" the werewolf asked.

"Shock," she said. "Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance."

"What?" Remus demanded.

"The stages of grief," Hermione replied. "He's in shock." She stared at the picture Remus still held with sorrow.

"All this time you've known and you didn't tell?" Remus demanded.

"No. I didn't," the brunette said. "For the very reason you've given me. Life is short, James...his life is shorter than...than it should be, but there's a reason for it. There's a--a reason for everything. He shouldn't have to spend his--his life looking over his shoulder wondering if today's the day he's going to die!"

"How can there be a reason for him to die?" the sandy-haired boy demanded.

"You want to know? You really want to know the truth? For God's sake, it's not like we haven't messed up the time continuum enough as it is," she growled, digging into her satchel and pulling out a picture of her with Ron, Ron's family, and Harry at the World Quidditch Cup. "That's why. James died to save his son, his only son. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. They died so that others could live." She grabbed her satchel and left the room in a huff.

Remus stared at the picture that Hermione had withdrawn from her satchel. Harry James Potter looked identical to his father except for Lily's eyes and an odd lightning-bolt-shaped scar peeking from under his perpetually-messy hair.

---

As James lie down to sleep that night, he grinned. He'd just spent another glorious day with Lily Evans, his future wife. He felt a thrill go through him at the thought. He would marry Lily, they would have a son, and they would grow old together.

Then it hit him. He was going to die. The realization was so...final, so...monumental that it utterly took his breath away.

Up until this point, his biggest worry was how Lily would react after finding out about the Polyjuice Potion. On some level, he'd always known he would die. After all, even wizards couldn't live forever. But like any seventeen-year-old, he'd been under the impression that he was immortal. Even though his elderly parents were ailing and people all around him, from all walks of life, were being murdered by Voldemort and his followers. The concept that he could die before he was in his hundreds, die anywhere but on a deathbed surrounded by loved ones and then quietly slip away, was unthinkable.

James finally sucked in a shaky breath as tears glazed his hazel eyes. When would it happen? Would it hurt? Would he beg to die?

The black-haired youth shoved these thoughts to the back of his mind. Worrying about the problems of the future wouldn't solve anything. He'd always been the type to live on a day-to-day basis, and he wouldn't let these revelations affect anything. But he did decide that from this point on, he would live every moment to its fullest.