Promises Defended

Promises Defended

Chapter Twenty-Two: Dark of Today

The pair shared a rambunctious dinner, Sirius' first back at Hogwarts since he left the previous March. He felt a little out of place, a feeling exaggerated by the fact that three quarters of the student body were staring at him in awe and the rest in sheer hatred. The Slytherins, of course, were easy to deal with--their animosity felt just like a family reunion--but Sirius still found the hero worship hard to handle. Serves you right, he told himself with an irritable smirk. You could have stayed in Azkaban and out of the public eye. Amazing how he could drive himself crazy, too.

"This is Lily's fault, you realize," Sirius finally groused.

"Oh?" Remus chuckled.

"Definitely. If she hadn't bailed on dinner, you wouldn't have chickened out of going to the Three Broomsticks instead of eating here."

"It is a school night, Sirius."

"So?" He grinned boyishly, and the expression felt real. He was finding the equilibrium--he really was--despite what Grindelwald had said. Sirius felt a momentary flash of guilt for not sharing his newest source of knowledge with his friends, and he suppressed the feeling only with an effort. He shouldn't keep this from them and he knew it, but he'd promised Grindelwald that he would tell no one. Despite his reputation, Sirius did not make promises lightly, and he respected Grindelwald. He did not agree with what the old wizard had been, but the sad and sorry truth was that Dietfried Grindelwald was not an evil man.

He'd just been bored.

"So, some of us have common sense," Remus retorted, snapping Sirius back to the present.

Sirius shrugged. "Not my fault you're boring."

"After this evening, I could use a little boredom," Hogwarts' headmaster replied frankly. His tone made Sirius swallow.

"Yeah. That wasn't pleasant."

"No," Remus breathed. "It wasn't."

Sirius and Lily had come to Hogwarts for anything but social reasons; called by Remus to look at Lee Jordan, the pair had ended up in a two hour long battle with what they now recognized as an advanced variant of the Imperius Curse. Remus, Snape, and Pomfrey had cast Reprimperio on Lee days ago, but the new spell seemed to resist detection by those means. And any others.

Had little Ginny Weasley been a little slower with her wand, it would have resisted a lot more than just detection, Sirius thought darkly. There was a girl who bore watching for the future. Half-heartedly, Sirius wondered if he could convince her to become an Auror. Assuming I ever go back.

"I'm glad you broke through that," Remus interrupted his thoughts again. "Lee...the poor boy's already seen enough."

"Tell me about it." In ripping Lee Jordan's mind free of Voldemort's powerful spell, Sirius had gotten a very personal glimpse of Lee's memories. Some fell too close to home for comfort, but that was not the point. Sirius had not been fifteen years old.

Still, Lily's inability to crack the spell had come as a surprise. She was the expert, after all, but Remus' foresight in bringing Sirius to Hogwarts had turned out to be useful. Sirius might not have been the practiced spell maker that Lily was, but he knew Voldemort. He could recognize patterns and power, which had allowed him to break the spell while Lily dissected it. The approach wasn't perfect--the process had taken almost the entire two hours--but it worked. Even if I wouldn't want to try that on a conscious subject.

But they had succeeded, even if Lily had skipped out on dinner to spend time with James. Remus and Sirius could deal with that, of course. She'd been dumping them to see James for years.

The two exchanged a sudden grin, sharing the thought. It was good to be back at Hogwarts in so many ways, and Sirius supposed that he'd visit a particular passageway before returning to Grimmauld Place that evening...just because he could. Remus spoke softly: "It's good to see you smile."

"Isn't it?" Sirius replied lightly, and they both knew his tone. The Great Hall was hardly the place for old pains and memories.

"Yeah" His friend sipped at his pumpkin juice, then changed the subject. "Anyway, speaking of relationships, how are you and Julia?"

"Oh, you know how it is. We see each other about once a month."

"That bad?"

Sirius shrugged. "Sometimes. I really just wish she'd stayed safe, but it's Julia. She's terrible at blending in."

"And at being subtle," Remus supplied.

"Yeah, I don't suppose that is a word you can use to describe her," he said fondly. "More like outgoing, rebellious, and just a little cocky."

"Sounds like someone else I know." Remus laughed.

"Who, Peter?"

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"Where have you been?" Fudge snapped as Umbridge walked into his office. Alice restrained the urge to smile, but she did note the fact that the "little fool" was showing the strain enough to snap at even his closest ally. Not the poised politician now, are we, Fudge?

"Hem, hem. I was...working," Umbridge replied archly, spearing the small man with a glare. Fudge grunted.

"Have you seen this?" he demanded, throwing the most recent issue of the Prophet at his deputy. Despite herself, Alice winced. She didn't like the headlines, but she had told Fudge they were unavoidable.

Not like he'd listened.

AURORS BEATEN BACK AT AZKABAN:

GROUND GAINED BY HOGWARTS VICTORY LOST AGAIN

The words were ugly, but they were true. Sirius' daring attack on Hogwarts had been pure brilliance--but more importantly, it had been well planned and carefully timed. The forced assault on Azkaban had been neither, and four Aurors had died because of that. Another had been captured, a fate which all Aurors considered to be worse than death. At least death meant release.

Alice tore her mind away from the recent loss; thinking about that hurt too much, and any weakness she showed here would mean an end. She had demanded this meeting, and she'd damn well tell Fudge exactly what she thought. Enough was enough. She started talking as soon as Umbridge settled her fat carcass into a seat.

"This," Alice stressed, pointing a harsh finger at the article. "Is almost one hundred percent true."

"Excuse me?" Fudge replied unevenly. Good. She'd caught him off balance.

"I said that the article is right. We've forfeited every advantage we had, and we lost four Aurors doing so. Five, really, because a captured Auror is worthless."

"And whose fault is that?" Fudge snapped back.

"Yours," Alice replied mercilessly. "I told you that we weren't ready. I told you that we would fail. The fact that you chose not to listen is your problem, not mine." Her voice grew hard. "Or it would be, if not for five Aurors who would be home with their families if not for you."

Fudge shot to his feet. "Now see here--"

"No, you see," Alice cut him off, uncoiling from her seat like an overstressed spring. "One more move like this out of you and the Aurors will be finished. I will not allow that, and the Aurors will not follow you to disaster."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Oh, I'd never do that," she retorted.

Umbridge tried to interject: "Hem, he--"

"Shove it," Alice cut her off, too. "I'm not talking to you."

"You're going entirely too far!" Fudge squeaked. "The Aurors are legally bound to obey the Ministry in all things, and if you even think you can get away with going rogue, think again! Why, I'll have your head if you so much as try!"

Alice snorted. "If I wanted to go rogue, Cornelius, I'd have done so when you fired Sirius Black." She glared at him and was satisfied to see him wither slightly. "However, am not I a fool. The Aurors will continue to follow your orders, so long as those orders will not get us killed needlessly. Aurors do not fear losing their lives, but I'll be damned if I let them die for no reason. It ends here.

"You tell us what you want, and we'll figure out how to do it. My timetable. My way. No negotiations."

Fudge laughed hollowly. "Alice, m'dear, what makes you think I won't just fire you?"

"Because you'd have one hell of a time trying to find someone to take on this worthless job."

"Oh, I'm sure there are others." He grinned smugly. "In fact, you'd best pack your--"

"Before you go down that road, think very hard about what is about to come out of your mouth," Alice said coldly. "Because if you want to play that game, I'll go to the press."

"Hem, hem. Mrs. Longbottom, I don't think there is--" Fudge cut Umbridge off, demanding:

"With what?"

"Oh, I'd start with your criminal mismanagement of this war," the Auror replied conversationally. "Then I'd move on to the fact that someone betrayed the Azkaban mission. Then I would mention the fact that you are currently considering peace terms from Voldemort." She smiled nastily at him. "I'd say that will create quite a stir. Wouldn't you?"

Fudge went red. Umbridge went pale.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, do please try me." Alice almost wished he would, as disastrous as it would be for the Aurors.

Fudge was almost purple, and Alice had begun to wonder if smoke was going to come out of his ears soon. "Get out," he snarled. "Get out!"

"And what?" she asked inquisitively.

"Talk to the press to your heart's content!" Fudge shouted, unhinged. "Do whatever you want to do! By the time I am through with you, the Wizarding World will despise the name Longbottom, and no one will trust you or your damned husband ever again. Just you wait."

"Very well. I will."

Alice spun on her heel and strode out, noticing the panicked look on Umbridge's face out of the corner of her eye.

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"There's something I need to show you," Remus said as they entered the headmaster's office. "By rights, I ought to show it to everyone at once, but James is at home and Peter is meeting with the French ambassador one last time. So that leaves you."

"I'm honored." Sirius wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

Remus, however, shot him a serious look and continued. "Besides, it concerns you, too."

"Oh." Arguing with that look was like trying to out-riddle a sphinx: stupid. So Sirius shut up and accepted the folded parchment that Remus offered. He ran his fingers over the edges for a moment before opening it. "Nice paper."

Remus did not reply. Sirius really did not expect him to, and did not bother to look up. Instead, he read the note, written in a now familiar and formal script. The few lines made his breath catch, so he read it again. And again. But it was the last sentence that made him blink.

"Besides, I am gratified to know that one such as yourself stands by Sirius' side."

Sirius swallowed hard, did some soul-searching. He had spent the last several months learning about Voldemort, getting inside his history, his motives, his sources of power. Why had it never occurred to him that Voldemort was doing the same? That the mirror worked both ways?

He's begun to understand, Sirius realized. For years he asked a question he could not answer...but he's coming closer, now. He has started to see.

Sirius shivered and handed the letter back. "What do you think?" he asked quietly.

"That I wish I hadn't drawn his attention so thoroughly," Remus replied immediately.

"Don't I know the feeling."

Remus nodded. "Seriously, though...it frightens me. More the reference to you than anything else."

"I will not insult your intelligence or your loyalty to your friends by asking you to join me."

"Not me." Sirius shook his head. "I'd rather he talk about me--and pay attention to me--all the time. What worries me is that he's noticed you, Remus. And drawing his respect is dangerous. He's now marked you as an enemy."

"And he hadn't before?"

"I don't think so," he replied thoughtfully. "Or maybe not so much. You've resisted him in several ways now, Remus, and that is something Voldemort finds worthy of respect. He's not so much concerned about power as he is about resistance. He knows that he's more powerful than you and I both--than any of us. The only thing that worries him is resistance, because as long as we keep fighting back, he can't win."

Remus arched an eyebrow. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

"Me neither," Sirius admitted with a smile. "Doesn't make that less true, though."

"Yeah." Remus took the letter back, sliding it into a hidden drawer in his desk. "Still, there is a bright side."

"You always say that, Moony. You and your silver linings."

Remus chuckled. "I wouldn't always call it silver, but I can't help being an optimist."

"That used to be my line."

"Oops."

"All right, I give. Tell me the bright side," Sirius replied, unable to tolerate looking at Remus' innocent face any longer. It was always good to know that some things never changed.

"You remember that list you mentioned, Sirius? The one about Voldemort's All Time Must Die Top 100?"

"Yes..."

"Well, I think I just got on it."

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They found him around mid-morning, battered and bleeding. Most were surprised that they had not found him dead, but from that first moment, the message was clear.

Muggles had been the first on the scene, and the healers of St. Mungo's had a terrible time wrestling the half-comatose Peter Pettigrew away from their "caring" hands. Just after noon, a half-score of Obliviators had to be called in (on whose authority, no one seemed to know) to rectify the situation, and even that left a sour taste in everyone's mouth. Regardless, the Muggles' intervention was old news by the time reporters arrived outside of St. Mungo's. Instead, they had something much larger to report, and as usual, it surrounded the "Marauders" (a title long ago leaked to the press, but one they were only now beginning to understand).

James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin walked through the front doors to St. Mungo's side by side. James Potter walked.

They were too dumbfounded to even ask.

"I broke my wand," was the first thing Peter said when the three of them walked into the room together. All three snorted--it was so like Peter to put a lighter spin on such a wretched situation.

"And the rest of you, mate," James pointed out critically, seating himself on the edge of the bed.

Peter's blue eyes opened wide. "You're walking."

"Actually, Wormtail, he's sitting right now," Sirius couldn't resist pointing out.

"Ass." The smaller man scowled.

"Yup."

"Enough. Tell us what happened, Peter," Remus interjected, looking worried.

The bedridden Marauder shrugged slightly. "Not so much to tell. Malfoy and a few others decided that they had to remind me of something. That's all."

"Remind you of what?" James demanded.

"Just that V-Voldemort doesn't forget." Peter's voice was almost perfectly level, and Sirius smiled at him as he plopped into the chair to his left. "Nothing new, there."

"How many others?" James pressed.

"Three."

"And what happened?"

"It's not a big deal, James," Peter replied. "I'm alive."

"Not a big--!"

"James," Remus cut him off calmly. "Let Peter tell the story in his own time."

"Sorry," James replied sheepishly. "I just feel so...useless sometimes. I can't even protect my friends."

"Protect us from what?" Surprisingly, the question came from Peter. "Our own choices? Prongs, I decided to turn against Voldemort a year ago, and I haven't regretted it once. I don't now--not even after last night." He coughed once, but continued in a quiet voice. "My only regret is not doing so sooner, and for lying to you for so long."

"That's long past, Peter," Sirius said for them all, speaking softly. "We do understand, you know."

Peter snorted. "I know you shouldn't, but..."

"But we'll beat you up worse than Malfoy did if you don't drop the subject and accept it," Sirius supplied. "That is what you were going to say, right?"

"Sure." Peter's wan smile made the effort worth it. But then his eyes cut to James. "Anyway, they cursed me for awhile and left. That's really it."

"Are you okay?" James asked softly.

"Yeah. I think so, anyway. It wasn't as...bad as it used to be, y'know? I used to be terrified, but this time it was my choices, and that made it easier. I think."

James reached out to clasp Peter's arm. "You've come a long way, Peter."

"I know." Momentarily, Peter grinned. "I actually distracted myself by thinking that. I think Malfoy noticed."

"We're just glad you're all right," Remus added.

"Me, too," Peter admitted. "Though I wasn't as frightened as I should have been. Is that strange?"

"Not really," Sirius replied for the others. They'd all been there. "After awhile, there comes a point where fear vanishes and courage remains. Being there is different...but it's not unusual."

Peter's eyes glistened slightly as Sirius held his gaze. "I think I finally understand," he said softly. "A lot of things."

"I wish you didn't, Pete."

Peter shrugged again. "There was a message, too," he added. "For you."

"Oh?" Not again. He had to struggle to keep his voice casual, and noticed the look Remus and James exchanged. Remus' eyes narrowed slightly, but Sirius kept his focus on Peter.

"I wasn't going to tell you, but..." The smaller man trailed off, sighing. But now you understand. You've been there, Wormtail, and you know that there are unpleasant things that still have to be done. "Anyway. Right before I passed out the last time, Malfoy said to tell 'my friend' that that was the price to be paid."

"And you think he meant me?" He tried to keep his tone light, but it didn't really work.

"Who else?"

"True." Now it was Sirius' turn to shrug. "Still, it's not exactly a surprise. He's trying to up the ante. I guess I've been too quiet."

"Too quiet?" James echoed. "What do you call the assault on Hogwarts?"

"Too subtle."

"Sirius--"

Remus cut James off. "I think he's right, actually. I think Voldemort is bored."

"I was bored. Aren't you?"

"Not in the way you mean, no," he replied, struggling to keep his voice level. What was it about this man that could so get under his skin?

"Not now, of course." Grindelwald smiled. "But had the world been different--had there been no war, no Tom Riddle--can you truly tell me that you would not have been so bored?"

Sirius sighed. "Maybe. But I wouldn't have done what you did."

"Of course not!" the older wizard chuckled. "You'd have found your own methods, probably starting with more and more dangerous 'pranks' as time went on. Perhaps your friends would have even been with you.

"For awhile."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Peter asked.

"Not if he keeps finding ways to amuse himself, it isn't," James replied darkly. "Things like attacking innocent people or destroying Muggleborns, or any of his other old standbys."

"He won't," Sirius breathed. "He's not bored like that. Voldemort never stopped those types of attacks. But Remus is right, and there's nothing more dangerous than a bored Dark Lord."

You ought to know, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Grindelwald's pointed out, and Sirius swatted it aside as Remus withdrew the letter from his pocket.

"There's something else, too..." he started to tell the others.

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The early edition's headlines were groundbreaking, though none of the Marauders noticed until they were almost ready to leave. They were too busy spending what little time they could together, finally managing to put worries aside. For just a few hours, they would be those four boys--not the men who had come to carry the world on their shoulders.

"I was thinking about a painting," Remus said after a while. "Of the four of us."

"What for?" James asked. "We've got thousands of pictures."

Peter snickered. "Some more suited for public release than others."

They all chuckled, sharing memories of times long past and pranks too good to forget. Remus, however, returned to his point.

"I was thinking that we could hang it at Hogwarts. There's a big empty place in the Great Hall that would be a perfect spot for the Marauders to watch over generations of Hogwarts pranksters..."

"And encourage them," James finished, grinning.

"Copiously," Sirius added, wagging his eyebrows at the cute healer who was checking on Peter's condition. She blushed and left, leaving the Marauders laughing again.

"Do you ever stop?" Peter demanded.

"Nope. Never."

Remus snorted. "And there you were last night, waxing poetic about Julia--"

"So? I can look, can't I?"

"Is that what you called it when you and Claire Brumby were caught in the Prefect's bathroom?" Peter retorted.

"Well, I was definitely looking at something," Sirius replied with a grin. "Besides, he let me in."

"I so did not," James defended himself. "I blame Lily."

"Only because you and she were snogging on the other side." Remus rolled his eyes. Soon, they were laughing again.

However, the moment had to end, and the Early Edition of the Prophet arrived right as Peter filled out the last lines on the release papers.

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February 9th, 1993

Early Edition

THE FINAL BLOW

by Keith Lindsay, Special Correspondent

MINISTRY OF MAGIC: Amongst growls from the Aurors,

Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has removed Alice

Longbottom from her position as Head of Magical Law

Enforcement and Chief of the Aurors.

Alice Hoppner Longbottom had been an Auror since mid-1976, a

former student of the legendary Mad-Eye Moody. She ascended

to her former post after the resignation of Sirius Black amid a

storm of public protest. Her removal, barely two weeks after

Black's departure, makes one wonder how badly relations

between the MOM and Wizarding Britain's first line of defense

have deteriorated.

Minister Fudge defends his decision by saying: "Madam

Longbottom's disastrous handling of the Aurors is clearly an

issue here. Furthermore, her reckless and unauthorized assault

on Azkaban Island was directly responsible for the deaths of four

Aurors and the capture of another. Our world can scarcely afford

such loses in these troubled times, and I felt it best to remove

her before more harm can be done."

Furthermore, Fudge appears concerned over Longbottom's

allegiance and her association with former Auror Sirius Black.

"We all know that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named courts

pureblooded witches and wizards most strenuously. Because of

this, and other factors, I do not trust Madam Longbottom's

loyalties any longer."

When pressed to say more, the Minister refused. However, the

long-silent Aurors are obviously unhappy with the decision.

"Alice has done nothing but dedicate herself to victory," Kingsley

Shacklebolt, former Auror and current Hogwarts professor says

angrily. "Every decision she has made has been backed by the

Aurors, and her removal is obviously nothing more than a

political plow to discredit Fudge's opponents."

No active Aurors were available for comment (threats,

perhaps?), but Alice Longbottom consented to be interviewed.

"I'm not going to discuss who is right versus who is wrong in this

situation," she says. "Because if there's anyone who can't see

Fudge panicking, they've got to be blind. The Azkaban Attack

was ordered by Fudge over my objections, and if he wants to

blame me for that, so be it. I did my job.

"However, there are some things that the public deserves to

know. First of all, I am very concerned that there is a leak in

Fudge's inner circle, because the Aurors' assault on Azkaban

was very clearly revealed to the Death Eaters long before our

arrival. Secondly, an envoy from Voldemort arrived during that

raid to offer secret peace terms to Fudge--peace terms which

include turning over Sirius Black to Voldemort in exchange for

Fudge maintaining power."

Longbottom's eyes are angry and show none of the guilt Fudge

proclaims she should. She finishes: "If that's not treason in its

highest form, I do not know what is.

"Unless it's the fact that he still hasn't held elections."

Longbottom raises valid questions that we all must worry about.

When will Fudge hold elections? Are we doomed to keep his

"temporary" office intact forever? Most importantly, though, this

reporter must begin to wonder: who is Fudge working for?

Fudge's replacement for Alice Longbottom is former Auror

Marcus Dimwiddle, removed from the Auror Division in 1981 for

bad conduct.

-----------

"There's about a hundred of them out there, Prongs," Sirius warned him, peeking around the corner.

James just shot him a lopsided smile. "If I was scared of the press, Padfoot, I wouldn't be here."

"Just warning you."

James twisted around to glance at the others. The borrowed copy of the Prophet was still in his hand, and he was somehow comforted by its presence--that, and of the reporters outside. He'd never wanted political power, but his drive to make things right had landed him in a job that he had never expected...and now felt obligated to take on again. Before Fudge ruins everything, anyway. If it's not already too late. He sighed.

"Ready?"

They'd walk out together. Things were always easier that way, and if they could send that message to the press, they could send it to Voldemort, too. Just in case he hadn't caught on, though even James had to think he was starting to. Otherwise, those two messages were just a bit too coincidental.

"Let's go," Peter replied for the other three, and James led the way outside. It felt good to walk again, to move--he felt like running around, like dancing, like leaping as high as he could. James had already tested his transformation into Prongs (at the other Marauders' insistence), and he now ached to run. But there'd be time for that later. For now--

"Mister Potter! Mister Potter!"

Just for once, he wished they'd pay attention to Sirius. Save it, Prongsie. You walked out the door, and now you've got it. Who ever said there was no such thing as second chances? A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Lily had been right, as usual.

"What do you have to say about the rumors that there is a traitor in--"

"--your legs are healed again. Who was responsible?"

"Have you heard that Alice Longbottom--"

"Deputy Minister Umbridge--"

"--peace terms?"

Taking a deep breath, James waved the crowd into silence. They responded to him far quicker than they used to.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am no longer an official representative of the Ministry of Magic," he began. "However, if you would like to ask me questions, I will be happy to give my opinion as a private citizen."

A few of the reporters chuckled appreciatively, understanding exactly what James was saying. And if Fudge thought I was too honorable to come out against him when things have gone so wrong, he's more stupid than I thought. He really shouldn't have given me this opportunity--

"Mister Potter!" A very familiar blond head bobbed up and down as she waved for his attention, and James smiled his most charming smile in response.

"Yes, Ms. Skeeter?"

"What do you have to say about the Minister's stance on Alice Longbottom?" The Daily Prophet's most famous reporter asked briskly. "Don't you agree that she must be in the employ of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"Not at all," James answered pleasantly, surprised how easy keeping his voice level was. "In fact, if Minister Fudge thinks Alice Longbottom would ever betray us to Voldemort, he's obviously a core short of a wand.

"Alice Longbottom is an old friend and an even older colleague of mine," he reminded the growing crowd--not all of which, he noticed, were reporters. "She is one of the most dedicated professionals and one of the very best Aurors I have ever known. I believe in her. And I believe her. If she says something is amiss within the Ministry, there are some serious problems."

"But what about her accusations of a traitor within the Ministry?" another shouted.

"It wouldn't be the first time," James said grimly. "Nor, I'm afraid, the last. I used to be an Auror, ladies and gentlemen. Alice is right. The Azkaban Assault was betrayed."

"Couldn't it have been by an Auror?"

"Yes. It could have. But is it realistic to blame the men and women who are fighting and dying to protect our families? Is it right to put that weight on their shoulders, to expect them to do everything right? Of course it is not. We all know that, and we all respect the bravery and dedication shown by everyone who has fought in the war, Aurors and others.

"Respect and honor. And trust. Just a few weeks ago, I spoke of honor and trust. I spoke of fighting and winning a war--something I still believe is possible. If we do not hesitate. If we stop blaming those who do not need to be blamed.

"And most importantly, if we stand together."

James took a deep breath, and then took the plunge.

"I will not tell you what to do. I will only tell you what I intend to do: I will fight. I am lucky enough to be standing next to three other men whom I would gladly die beside--who I trust to watch my back as I will watch theirs. Men who understand loss and pain. Who understand that risks must be taken if victory is to be won.

"So now you know what I will do." James paused, scanning the crowd with his eyes. "The question becomes what you will do. Will you demand change? Will you demand that we fight and win?"

Reporters--and bystanders--stirred, but James did not give the response a chance to grow. "Don't answer now. Just think--and remember--that we don't have to go down this road.

"Not if we fight back."

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