1

The small village of Godric's Hollow seemed to glow an odd shade of blue in the moments before dawn. The sun was still behind the mountains, but the light of the sky seemed to reflect down upon the hills, giving the impression that the hills were glowing. Moments later, the sun broke over the top of the mountainside, coating both the sky and the sleepy village below it a deep shade of red. Birds began to sing in the August morning as a light breeze wafted through the streets of the village.

In spite of the gorgeous scenery outside of his window, James Potter could only bring himself to think – 'Red sky at morning, sailor take warning.'

The kitchen inside the Potter House was clean and tidy, just the way Mrs. Potter liked it. The only evidence that anyone had been inside it, apart from James' presence, was the collection of newspapers and letters strewn across the table behind where James sat as he sat staring out the window at the rising morning sun. Atop the pile of papers was the morning edition of the Daily Prophet, which had arrived only an hour earlier.

'POTTER HEARING GOES TODAY,' blared the headline.

'The much discussed Wizengamot hearing for James Potter, 14, goes forward today at the Ministry of Magic in London. Unless you have been living under a rock or simply do not care, you will be well aware of the specifics of this case. For the sake of recapping, however, here are the facts: James Potter was ambushed at the King's Cross Station in London at the end of June of this year by the notorious fugitive Gilles Rochefort. The two engaged in a pitched battle which, reportedly, both survived. The twist here is that young Mr. Potter was only able to survive through the use of the Killing Curse, one of three Unforgiveable Curses which the Minstry has decreed are illegal. The use of such a curse against a fellow human being is normally enough for an automatic life sentence in Azkaban. Given the circumstances, however, there is some talk that Potter could avoid such a sentence. One thing that is certain is that he will not be alone in pleading his case to avoid prison time.

Sirius Black, 14, is a good friend of Potter's and plans to attend the hearing to support him. 'James Potter is the best man I know,' says Black, a member of Potter's House at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 'Anyone who says otherwise can go [expletive deleted] themselves in the face with an [expletive deleted].'

Carrying considerably more weight, perhaps, is the fact that various members of the Hogwarts faculty appear to be in James Potter's corner. Minerva McGonagall, head of Gryffindor house at the school, speaks highly of him. 'He is a gifted and conscientious young wizard who will go to any lengths to help a friend in need. Pressure is being poured onto these young students at earlier and earlier ages, and I frankly find the media's involvement in this case to be both inflammatory and offensive.'

Not everyone is firmly established in Mr. Potter's corner, however. Some of the students at his school paint a vastly different picture of the young man. 'I believe he is a sadist,' said Abraxas Malfoy, a well-respected member of the wizarding community in spite of the fact that his son Lucius has reportedly joined the Death Eaters. 'He has a cruel sense of humour, punctuated by the fact that he dropped several students off the side of a building in his second year.'

Severus Snape, 14, a member of Slytherin house at Hogwarts seems to agree. 'He shows wonton disregard for the rules and a lack of care for the safety of others. He is a troublemaker who needs to be taught a lesson.'

The case, which begins today (continued on Page 7)'

Laying next to the newspaper was a letter from the Ministry of Magic, dated August 3rd.

'Dear James Potter,

We at the Ministry of Magic are delighted to hear that you were discharged from St. Mungo's Hospital and have returned home. We hope you are in good health.

However, due to the nature of your impending hearing with the Wizengamot over your actions of June 30th, we regret to inform you that you are suspended forthwith from attending Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Furthermore, Ministry officials will be visiting your place of residence to confiscate your wand. Your wand's fate will be determined when the Wizengamot has reached a satisfactory conclusion regarding your case.

Sincerely,

Dolores J. Umbridge

Junior Clerk

Department of Magical Law Enforcement'

Next to this was another letter, drawn by the same hand.

'Dear James Potter,

Please disregard the portion of the previous letter which pertained to the confiscation of your wand. Through further discussion here at the Ministry, the charitable decision has been made to allow you to retain it until such time as the Wizengamot has reached a satisfactory conclusion regarding your case. In the meantime, your suspension from Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry shall remain in effect.

Sincerely,

Dolores J. Umbridge

Junior Clerk

Department of Magical Law Enforcement'

That had been the combined work of Mr. Potter and Albus Dumbleodre. When news had reached them that the Ministry had planned to confiscate James' wand, James had never seen his father in such a rage. He had been ready to dive head-first into the Floo Network to start shouting at Millicent Bagnold herself, but Mrs. Potter had convinced him to speak to Dumbledore instead. Dumbledore had then arrived at their house where he had patiently waited through Mr. Potter's shouting that this would be suicide for James, who needed some manner of protection from against Rochefort who was still at large, and promised to deal with the matter. Dumbledore had then left, and—moments later—the second letter had arrived.

It had been a profoundly long summer for James. This was normally a time of year where he began to feel the building excitement that accompanied a return to Hogwarts. But with his future there now in doubt, he could bring himself to feel excited. He could only feel dread. 'What's the worst that could happen?', he had asked himself.

'Well,' a mean voice in the back of his mind had answered, 'they could snap your wand in half and forbid you from ever doing magic again. They may forbid you from returning to Hogwarts, so you can say goodbye to all of your friends, and that nice Lily Evans that you've been fawning over for the last three years. Oh, and to top it all off, they could chuck you into Azkaban where the Dementors will ensure you never have another happy thought for as long as you live, which—if you end up going there—might not be all that long.'

James rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had not slept all that well during the summer, but what with his hearing being today, he hadn't slept at all. The summer seemed like a blur now. He had lost consciousness in London immediately after hearing that the Ministry was placing him under arrest, and he hadn't come to until two weeks later in St. Mungo's Hospital. His list of injuries had been quite impressive—a fractured skull, a broken nose, a broken jaw, eight broken teeth, nine broken ribs, a broken hip, a broken ankle, and numerous strains, sprains and tears of his muscles.

But by far the most taxing injury had been the toll he had taken upon himself by performing the Killing Curse. He grew more and more furious with himself each passing day for not having successfully killed Gilles Rochefort. Had he only been able to rid the world of that murdering psychopath, he might have been able to look at himself in the mirror and feel that he had done something good. But he had failed. Now all he was doing was awaiting a trial for trying and failing to use an Unforgiveable Curse.

He had remained in St. Mungo's until August 3rd, during which time he had been confined to his hospital room and had been forbidden visitors. Sirius, Remus and Peter had tried to gain entry to his room by force, but they were no match for the fully trained Aurors who had guarded the door. Only very kind words from Dumbledore had prevented them from getting into serious trouble themselves. Once James had been discharged and arrived at home, he was placed under immediate house arrest. The one thing the Ministry had not taken into account, however, was the magic two-way mirror that James shared with Sirius that allowed them to communicate with one another.

Sirius had kept him company via that channel for the whole summer. Periodically, he had been able to meet Remus and Peter outside of his house, allowing all three of them to talk to James. Remus had been working doggedly through old books and libraries in Diagon Alley trying to find comparable cases for his defense, with Peter working as a research assistant. During all of this, Sirius had maintained a steady stream of insults and name-calling to the Ministry officials who dared to question him. All three of them had pledged to be there at James' hearing, which would frankly be the only silver lining about today. It had been far too long since James had seen them in person.

James' mind turned back to Rochefort. He again felt a pang of regret for not having been able to finish the job. Rochefort had murdered or attempted to murder just about everyone that James held dear in his life, and he had had the opportunity to repay him in kind. He had certainly injured him—gravely, James hoped—but he had not succeeded in killing him. James wondered if Rochefort was watching all of this unfold now, and whether he was laughing from the shadows at James for the mess he had made for himself.

The idea of confessing how and where James had learned to use these curses had never once crossed his mind. He had known exactly what he was getting into when he accepted Madam Amelia Bones' offer to learn the curses. He wondered if he had somehow transferred the curse of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher position at Hogwarts from her to himself; she would be returning to Hogwarts this fall, while it would be considered an amazing feat if James was able to avoid going to Azkaban, never mind worrying about ever setting foot in the school again.

'James?' came a voice from the other side of the kitchen. He turned to see his father standing there dressed in a travelling cloak. 'When did you get up?' he asked as he walked into the room.

'Yesterday morning,' James said dryly.

Mr. Potter appraised him sympathetically. 'You really should have tried to get some sleep, son,' he said softly. 'Today is going to be a challenge, but doing it on no sleep…'

'I don't think it will make a difference one way or another, Dad,' James said gloomily.

Mr. Potter pursed his lips. 'Chin up, James, we're not dead in the water yet. We've got right on our side and a lot of public support,' he said bracingly as he went to pour himself a cup of coffee.

'It's not unanimous,' James muttered. 'Malfoy's Dad and Snape certainly didn't help my case.'

Mr. Potter snorted. 'No one's going to pay them any mind,' he said dismissively. 'Abraxas has fallen out of favour in a pretty big way, what with Lucius going dark side. And Snape's father is—well—he's known to the authorities, if I were to put it mildly.'

Under other circumstances, the news about Snape's family might have interested James. But it did little to lift his spirits today. 'When do we have to go?' he asked.

Mr. Potter sat down at the table. 'Within the hour,' he said. 'It's best to arrive at these things early. First impressions are going to be very important today, son, so there's a few basics I wanted to go over with you.'

'Overhauling my manners now? Isn't it a little late?' James said.

Mr. Potter smiled faintly. 'You are bright, well-spoken and articulate, James,' he said. 'But you also have your Mother's stubborn streak. If anyone on the Wizengamot pushes your buttons, I just need to urge you not to rise to it.'

James frowned. 'Is someone going to try to?'

'I would,' Mr. Potter deadpanned. 'Make no mistake, they've been listening to everything that's been said about you all summer. The good and the bad,' he said meaningfully. 'Now, there's a major difference between pulling pranks at school and trying to kill a wanted fugitive. But what they'll be looking for is a pattern of escalation. They want to be sure this is a blip on the radar, not the start of something new.'

James stared sullenly out the window. 'They want to make sure I'm not going to turn into some sort of mass murderer,' he said quietly. 'Like Rochefort.'

'That's right,' Mr. Potter said softly. 'So show them the good side of you. Don't give them any reason to doubt you for a second. That's my only advice.'

James bit his lip and looked at his father. 'What if I lose?' he whispered. 'What if they ship me off to Azkaban?'

Mr. Potter looked out the window nervously at the rising sun. 'We won't let it come to that, James,' he said. 'Now—let's change the subject before your Mother gets here. She's even more worried than you are.'

'That's inspiring,' James muttered and Mr. Potter smiled sympathetically as Mrs. Potter entered the room, also in a travelling cloak. 'Morning, Mum,' he said as brightly as he could manage.

'Good morning, dear,' Mrs. Potter said as she bestowed a kiss on his forehead. 'Been up long?'

James cast a glance at his father. 'Only a little while. I decided to watch the sunrise, I don't think I'd ever done it before.'

'Well, isn't that nice,' Mrs. Potter said, turning away and busying herself with preparing a small breakfast. James sighed inwardly. He felt like the awkward guest at his own funeral.

Mr. Potter cleared his throat. 'It should be nice to see your friends again,' he said. 'I can only imagine how much you've missed each other.'

James quickly averted his gaze. His father was wearing that look that James was all too familiar with. The look that he had come to know over Mr. Potter's long career in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It was the look that said he knew something. James made a mental note to ensure his mirror was well hidden, he did not want it confiscated. 'Yeah,' he said somewhat lamely. 'I've really missed them. Hopefully they show.'

'Of course they will,' Mrs. Potter said. 'I was speaking to Peter Pettigrew's parents, and he most certainly is.'

'I wonder if Sirius' parents will let him,' James said idly. He knew full-well what the answer was—Sirius' parents could have promised him a slow and agonizing death, and he would still go.

Mr. Potter laughed. 'I don't think they have much control over him,' he understated.

They ate breakfast together in a relatively pretend-normal fashion. For the first time in a month and a half, they joked, they laughed and they exchanged stories of Hogwarts hijinx. James remained tight-lipped on his involvement in some well known pranks, but his parents were not blind to the fact that he knew more than he was letting on.

'Well,' Mr. Potter said after what felt like only a short while. 'We'd best be off now. We want to be there nice and early for the hearing.'

Mrs. Potter put the breakfast plates away and glanced out the window. 'I'd say our little escort agrees,' she muttered. James glanced outside to see the Aurors who had been tasked with making sure he did not violate the terms of his house arrest were now walking up the front path way. 'That tall one is certainly rude. I have half a mind to…' Mrs. Potter trailed off into muttering.

'Easy, dear,' Mr. Potter said placatingly. A firm knock sounded on the front door. Mr. Potter went to open it and admit the two Aurors into the house. The tall one had a long, regal mane of black hair.

'It's time,' he said in a clipped tone.

Mr. Potter raised his eyebrows. 'Thanks, Rufus, I hadn't put that together myself. I appreciate you helping me find my way through retirement.'

James fought off the urge to smirk as Rufus Scrimgeour scowled at his father. 'How are we getting to London, Dad?' James asked.

Mrs. Potter answered the question by pulling a bag of Floo Powder from one of the kitchen drawers. 'The fastest way we can,' she said hurling a handful into the sitting room fireplace. 'Ministry of Magic, James,' she said softly as he stepped forward into the green flames.

He said the words, and his world spun.