Chapter Text
They had been attacked- the door blown in and the wards shattered. The second story of Potter Cottage was caved in, smoke leaking from the fissure in the roof and spilling into the air, accenting the acid green mark withering in the night sky. A mark that was only sent after the job was done .
James could not comprehend the bone chilling fear or the heart wrenching torment that filled him when he apparated to his family’s home in Godric’s Hollow. All he could think about was how his son was inside. His son was attacked and James wasn’t there to protect him . His son could be hurt, or… He is fine. James does not know for sure- would not know until he saw his Prongslet with his own eyes.
“Please…” he whispered to himself as he flew up the stairway, “Please,” He doesn’t even stop his ascent to check on the babysitter, knowing that she had not survived the attack.
James threw the nursery door open, freezing in the opening to take in the scene and to calm his racing heart. The nursery is a mess, the once sage green walls are blackened and charred, smoking from an explosion of unknown origins. The walls have fallen apart, and seem to warp around the crib- the only thing that survived the room’s destruction.
A whimper of pain catches his attention, breaking him from his observations. He strides across the room, dodging the still smoldering robes on the floor to check on his children. Something inside him moves restlessly, a darkness that whispers into his adrenaline filled mind; Not ours. One. Our child. Only one. James tried to ignore it, but the feeling lingers as he looks at Rose. Both of his children- She is not ours- are distressed, letting out soft cries as they clutch each other. James swiftly lifts them into his arms, hickory brown eyes scanning them for injuries.
Rose has a small S-shaped cut on her forehead, resting close to her right eye. He raises his wand and casts Episkey , and watches the cut heal just enough to scab before stopping. James frowns at the unusual reaction, and turns to his son. He notices a lightning- Sowilo - shaped cut on his forehead, and goes to raise his wand to heal it only for it to dissipate within seconds, leaving smooth creamy skin behind. Shocked, he doesn’t get much time to dwell on it due to a scream from the doorway causing him to spin around in fear.
Lily stands at the door, face pale and her hands shaky. She steps towards James, he flinches and the darkness inside him begins to scream. Filthy mudblood! Deceiver! She took our Prince away; James she forced HIM AWAY. Bring back our mate, our Prince! Lily looks at him suspiciously, not reacting to the voices screams and proving to James that it’s all in his head. He offers her a shaky smile, hoping to reassure her and luckily it works. Lily rushes over to them, and takes Rose from his arms; fretting over the scabbed cut on her temple.
“James, what happened? Sophia is dead downstairs… and-” He interrupts her, running a soothing hand over Harry’s soft chocolate locks.
“They were attacked Lily-flower,” James sighs, and pulls Prongslet closer to him, “And… I think it was the Dark Lord,” At the mention of the opposing side’s leader Lily’s eyes widen, flickering to the pile of robes on the nursery floor. Her grip on Rose tightens, and the child lets out a soft cry; one Lily does not seem to notice.
James reaches out, slowly prying the small baby from Lily’s grip and pulling her toward him. He watches as his wife curls into herself, eyes locked on the smoking robes. She glances up, eyes zeroing in on Rose’s wound.
“Did she-” Lily is once again interrupted, however by someone new walking in on the scene. His pale eyes sparkle even as he takes in the blackened nursery. He turns to the couple and offers a sad smile. Fake. It’s fake. Don’t trust.
Albus Dumbledore approaches them, still twinkling eyes scanning the faces of the children in James’ arms. Instinctively, he tightens his grip, pulling his children- Child. One- closer to him. Albus frowns, though it disappears so quickly James doubts if it was real or not. Real. He wears masks. Deceiver.
“What happened my boy?” James frowns, displeasure at the endearment churning in his stomach, but he pushes it away. Instead, he gazes down at his children; two sets of emerald- Wrong - eyes look back.
“I am unsure Professor,” he whispers, eyes focusing on the clear forehead of his eldest. James can’t bring himself to look into the eyes of his old Headmaster, nor can he explain the sudden weariness that fills him at the thought of gazing into the blue orbs. Thief. He stole our Prince, locked away our memories. Don’t look.
“Well I believe I know what happened,” Albus continues, gesturing at the cut on Rose’s temple, “It seems as if young Rose was hit with the killing curse, and deflected it back at Voldemort. She has saved us all!” James frowns questioning the explanation, as the headmaster- despite his wisdom- was not omniscient and could not know what happened.
“Headmaster, does this mean Rose is… is the child of prophecy?” Lily looks at the Headmaster as if he hung the moon, something that only deepens James’ discomfort.
“Yes Lily. Rose is the child of prophecy, if you look at her temple there is a dark mark- the letter S, for Slytherin or perhaps for Savior. For she is our savior, the Girl-Who-Lived!” Albus smiles, assured in his statement and that what he says is the truth. However James can not help but question the elder man’s judgement; they do not know for certain what happened and the headmaster has not even cast any spells to prove what he declared was the uttermost truth. Although, it seems Lily is willing to believe him- Blindly. She gave it no thought. No consideration. Stupid mudblood. She doesn't care.
“Yes, yes. Rose is the prophecy child and we just prepare for her future at once. Harry will have to be removed, his presence will only serve as a distraction and Rose needs attention in order for her to fulfill her destiny…” Albus continues to prattle, but James is no longer listening. He can’t listen, not after what he was told.
They are going to take him away; our Prongslet. Just like our Prince. They are going to take away our family again; our herd. No! Not again! Don’t you let them! DO NOT LET THEM DO IT AGAIN JAMES! NOT AGAIN!
The screams of his darkness continue on, and James can’t help but agree. It’s his child, his fawn . He won’t let them take his Prongslet. He focuses back into the speech the headmaster has worked himself into, nodding absently as he begins to plan. He tunes in just as Albus finishes, smiling genially at the small family. James smiles back, forcing acceptance into his eyes and staring just below the headmaster’s twinkling eyes.n
“Of course Professor. It only makes sense for our little Rose to have all the attention she needs. But…” James bites his lip, moving his eyes downward in order to appear nervous- not that he isn’t, but for an entirely different reason, “Could we have a day or two more with him? To say goodbye?” Dumbledore gives him what is supposed to be a sad smile, but James can’t help but see it as condescending.
“Are you sure, my boy? It will only make your parting even harder,” James is nodding before Dumbledore can finish, adding a self-deprecating smile in for good measure.
“I know Professor, but it will not be easy either way,” Dumbledore nods, as if he was allowing James extra time with James’ child- As if he had a right.
“Well… I shall leave you to your goodbyes. I will be back in one days time,” and with one last grandfatherly like grin, the headmaster disappartates with a flick of his robes. James sighs, tension releasing from his shoulders. Without looking at Lily, he begins to speak- half formed plan already in motion.
“Lily dear, why don’t you go spend time with Sophia’s parents. Break the bad news to them; it would be better coming from a friend than from me… and I,” James pauses, quickly pulling air into his lungs and ducking his head; Make it look like you are losing your composure. That you don’t want her to see you cry. Be as fake to her as she is to you.
“Oh James…” He glances up, smiling sadly, but he knows he will not regret his next actions.
“It’s fine Lily-Flower. I’m going to spend some time with the children, I just…” He quickly forcing his head down, latching onto his lip as he waits to see if she took the bait. There’s a sigh, and a light kiss to his head that makes his stomach clench in disgust but he remains frozen… waiting.
“It will all be fine in the end. Don’t think about it too much James,” and without a word to their children she leaves, making her way downstairs to the body of Sophia.
James remains frozen, listening for the tell-tale crack of a disappration before moving. He moves his wand in sharp flicks, gathering whatever survived the attack from the nursery before moving to his bedroom.
Setting the twins down, he watches as they curl around one another, gathering comfort from their siblings’ presence. He turns to his closet, wand raised and an incantation on his lips when he stops. With a jerk of his wrist the wand disappears into its holster.
“Flopsey?” A small crack reveals his old nurse maid and friend, the small elf clinging to her skirt while looking up at the eldest Potter.
“Yesums, Master Potter sir?” James lets out a short laugh, dropping down into a crouch to match the small elf’s height.
“Flopsey, could you gather all my clothes and belongings, before taking them to Potter Manor?” He stops, before gesturing to the two children sleeping on the bed, “And take the twins to the nursery?”
“Yessums, Master Potter sir. Flopsey be doing that rights away,” with a click of her fingers she starts to pack, gathering everything from the modest cottage room and transporting it to his room in Potter Manor. Standing up he takes one last look at his children before apparating to Diagon Alley.
Striding through the darkened alley toward Gringotts, James can not help but wonder if he is making the right choice. Has it really come to this? He ducks into an overhang, avoiding the two drunkards that stumble by; whispers of the Dark Lords defeat on their loose lips. James shakes his head- Dumbledore sure moves fast, it hasn't been an hour since he left. He stops, whipping around to stare at the drunk wizards.
“It hasn’t been an hour since he left. How could they have become drunk enough in such a short time… unless. No…” James’ face turns pale and he quickens his pace, more desperate than ever to make it to the bank before anyone could stop him. Please, let me be wrong. Let this all be a nightmare…
He flies up the stairs, pausing at the doors to offer a short bow to the goblins stationed there. If they are surprised they do not show it, although they do tilt their head in acknowledgement. Swiftly he enters the empty bank, moving toward the first teller and waiting for the goblin behind the stand to stop his record keeping. Once he has his full attention James straightens his back, recalling the lordship training his Père and Father had taught him.
“I would like an audience with honorable Potter Account Manager, Earrag,” the goblin, Barluk, nods, before scribbling something on a small notebook. Almost immediately there is a commotion by the doors, and James is gestured to follow the goblin at the entrance. Smiling, he tilts his body forward, reciting words that he has practiced since age seven.
“Thank you honorable Teller Barluk. May your gold always flow and your enemies fall to your blade.”
“May your gold always flow and your cup never empty, Lord Potter,” James smiles at Barluk one last time before he proceeds to the goblin waiting at the doors. James nods minutely at the goblin, before following him down to the Potter Account Manager’s office. The goblin bowed once they reached the office, leaving him in front of the golden doors. Taking a deep breath, James raises a hand to knock, only entering when Earrag calls out his permission and standing beside the chairs as the manager finishes up his work. Once Earrag nods to him, James performs a deep bow and claims his seat. Earrag smirks, and pulls out a dark folder.
“Lord Potter, it seems that you finally received our letters.”