I lay alone in my room, ALL that I've done today is lay here.
I want to help, I NEED to do something and I have nothing but time.
I pull myself out of bed and walk to the library, with the wave of a shity unmatched wand the door locks shut, I'm a fugitive, I will never be free and i'll be dead before anyone even thinks twice about giving Me a trial so what can I do.
I go over my options.
“Magic, this library had magic the most foul there is but… not all of it is horrible, what do you think James?” No reply, sometimes I get an answer and sometimes I don't, it's foolish talking to a dead man but, I think it's all I have.
Surely I'm not sane, but I dont think it's the black family madness kind of mad, just the grief kind or so I hope.
“James, what should I do about voldemort. Do you think I could find clues?”
This time I do receive a reply
“Pads, Think for a moment, Tom Riddle, Heir of Slytherin or so he claims, For once, you can use your pure blood knowledge for good. You don't know what it is yet but if you search. I know you can find it. Also, go check on my son for Merlin's sake.” With that James fades Into smoke.
Like always, I smell no smoke. I feel no heat. And I'm left alone.
‘Very well James, This place is hidden by a wards so I might as well teach him some magic.’
With that I head off to find Harry.