The inevitables

James wore black dress robes and I wore a black dress, both newly bought. We had never been to a funeral before. My father did my hair in a slicked back bunch and my mum tamed James’s ever standing hair with a bit of magic. My parents were somber and serious, I had rarely ever seen them like that. While my father never spoke of his brother, I knew he loved him. How could anyone not love their brother? I did not know how they stopped seeing each other or what they last said to each other, I don’t even know how he died. 

We stood first behind the casket, they said it was because we were family. I’m not sure if we could even be called that. I never met him, Uncle Lonnie and my dad never mentioned him, the first time I was ever in the same room with him was now, at his funeral. The building was large and old, I imagined the king of england watching it be made 500 years ago. The room was crowded, and I only knew less than half of the people there. Uncle Harvers life was nothing but a mystery to me. The casket was closed, but everyone around us told my dad how similar they looked. All the boys in my family looked alike from James to Lonnie to my dad, it seemed natural that Harver would look the same. It made me glad the casket was closed, I felt that if I saw the dead body of my never met Uncle, I would only see the corpse of my father. 

James and I kept our heads low, we listened to the murmurs of people around us, we watched Uncle Lonnie fight back tears, we only dared to touch the floor and nothing else. It felt weird standing in the middle of people actually grieving. Some people here knew my Uncle, some had to have loved him, some were crushed about his death. I shouldn’t have been here. My life hasn’t changed with my uncle's passing, but that was not the same with others here. 

The service was moved to a banquet hall, my family's table at the front. I tried to spot anyone that I knew, but every time I did, I was more confused. First I saw Moody, he was standing guard by the door. His eye scanned the room, stopping at each person; it was like he was questioning them without words. Then I saw Dumbledore, who was notorious for never going to any ministry event. No matter the party my family threw, he never showed. This may not be a ministry event, but half the ministry was here, even know Harver never worked there. 

“Somethings going on.” I whispered to James, it was the first time either of us spoke in hours. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, he tried to subtly look around. It was good no one was paying attention to us because he was about as subtle as a moose. 

“The guest list. Half the ministry is here, but dad works there, not Uncle Harver.” I tried not to look around, tried not to be noticed by my parents who were talking to people I’ve never seen. 

“How did mum say he died?” 

“She didn’t.” 

“Got any theories?” 

“One. You?” 

“Same.” 

The people I saw, the ones I recognized, were ministry workers. But they were so much more than that. These people have been to my house, they’ve spent hours with my father in his office. My parents didn’t lie, they told us they were here for the war. The same war that had to have taken Uncle Harver. I wanted to ask what happened, but now was not the time. There were too many people, too many ears and eyes on us. 

James and I stayed at our table, food was brought to us, people came to us to make small talk, we never had to move. The people we knew were ignoring us, almost like they were pretending they weren’t there. Well.. everyone except Professor Dumbledore. 

He came when our table was empty, the night was ending, my parents were talking to some long life friend we didn’t know and Uncle Lonnie was outside with his boyfriend. He wanted to go somewhere more private, I don’t blame him. I felt like a fish in a fishbowl. 

“I’m very sorry for the loss of your Uncle.” The professor kindly spoke to us. He never talked down or pitied us, it was just a conversation. 

“Thank you sir.” James nodded awkwardly. 

“How are you both holding up?” Dumbledor asked, he was the first person who asked us this. 

“We’re ok, sir.” I answered the truth, “We hadn’t ever met him.” 

“No?” 

“Dad barely ever mentioned him.” James shrugged.

“I’m sure there is a reason for that.” Dumbledor smiled like he knew something. 

“Like what?” I asked but all the professor did was shrug.

“James Fleamont Potter? Hazel Euphemia Potter?” A new man walked up to our table, he wore professional clothing and he carried a long scroll. My parents came back to the table quickly but they didn’t engage in conversation. They did not know him personally but they knew why he was here. 

“Yes?” We asked in unison. 

“I am here to announce the will of Harver James Potter.” He cleared his throat, I was too stunned to even think, “‘To my niece and nephew, I give 50,000 pounds each to ensure the bright future my brother will give them.”

“50,000 pounds of what?” James whispered to me, I shrugged. I had no idea what was happening. The man continued. 

“To James Fleamont Potter I give the key to my residence in Hogsmeade and to Hazel Euphemia Potter, I give my wand.” The man placed the key and wand on the table. His wand was thin and narrow, the end was carved to look like it had vines swirling around it. It freaked me out. Why was I getting his wand? Why was he leaving us anything?! 

The man looked satisfied, my dad shook his hand and then he left. James grabbed his key, I left the wand on the table. Wands were personal, it was a piece of the wizard. The wizard was dead and to me his wand should be buried with him. It was like giving me his arm or something. 

“50,000 pounds of what?” James asked, my mum smiled. 

“That’s muggle currency, it would be 10,000 Galleons.” Our mum explained. 

“Why did Uncle Harver have muggle money? Why did he leave us things?” I asked, the adults remained quiet. Dumbledor stood. 

“I think it’s time the children learned part of the truth of their family.” The professor spoke to my dad who nodded. “Enjoy your summer, I expect you both next year.” He said before leaving the table and never looking back. I swear he gets more confusing every time I see him. 

“What’s he talking about?” James asked, I was thinking the same thing. But our parents didn’t respond. They didn’t respond until that night, we were sitting on the couch, they brought chairs to sit in front of us.

“I know you’ve had a lot of questions lately and we’ve had less answers. We wanted to wait until you were older, but unfortunately the war is progressing more than we’ve hoped. I’m going to say a lot of things that will probably warrant more questions from you two, but I’m asking you to wait until I finish, understand?” My father was somber and stern, normally he doesn’t allow us to see him like this. He wants us to always think of him as loving and happy. 

We both nodded at this message, we were to be quiet and listen. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“My brother Harver, worked and died as a spy for our side of the war. It is called the Order of the Phoenix and He co-lead the group with Professor Dumbledor. Haver worked closely with the muggle prime minister. He informed their government what was going on in the wizard world and how best to protect the muggles. Right now the Order’s goal is to form allies, no fighting has started but people are choosing sides. Unfortunately more people fear the other side than like our side causing most wizards to remain quiet, do nothing. The other side is attempting to infiltrate the ministry, it is my and Alastors job to stall that as much as we can.The people you see come here are on our side working under Alastor and I.” My dad paused, allowing us to ask questions. 

“Has the other side attacked anyone yet? Any muggle born?” I asked. A year ago, my father told us to protect muggle borns at our school, to emphasize their achievements to tamper the muggle born hatred. It only sort of worked. 

“Not yet, but we know they will.” My dad answered. 

“How?” James asked. 

“Andromeda Black. She still has some connections to the other side and has given us valuable information of what they plan to do. She started in the order when she came to christmas.” He kept his details vague, it was like there were so many secrets floating around not even he knew all of them. Some things were explained, like why we never met Harver, but not everything. Who was the other side? Who were the spy’s? What was mum's role in it all? 

“Why did Uncle Harver give me his wand?” I asked. This time my mum answered. 

“Our house is protected by an old type of magic, it’s called blood magic. The name is darker than it sounds, trust me. It just means magic that can only affect our family. As long as someone in our family is alive our house will be preserved and protected. If you own Harvers wand, and keep it here, our house will create a stronger layer of protection. Our magic is strengthened by our family and his magic will blend with all of ours.” 

“So.. we can use his magic?” James asked. 

“Yes, but you have to learn how. A wizard's biggest problem is thinking of their wand as the source and exit of their power, instead of themselves. You mustn’t forget that you do not need your wand for any spell, and when you turn 17, we will teach you to use the power of your ancestors.” Mum explained. 

“Is this why people think that muggle borns aren’t as powerful?” I asked. 

“No, most do not know about this brand of magic. It is very old and no longer studied.” My dad said. 

“When you were babies, I placed a spell on you that will protect you until your 17th birthday. My magic will shield you from dark magic as long as you live with a blood relative and call this house your home.” My mum stood to kiss the tops of our heads. My parents did everything for us, they protected us with everything they knew how to, and so did Harver. James and I were the only children in our family, we were the only ones who would continue our families name and practices. I didn’t know how big of a legacy and responsibility that was until right now. Thank Godrick I wouldn’t go at it alone. Thank Godrick James would be there every step of the way. 

“Any more questions?” My dad asked, “I’m happy to answer them all night if we have to.” He smiled for the first time all night. I missed this version of my dad, I missed his loving and happy self. 

“None.” James spoke for the both of us. I preferred it that way. 

Suddenly a loud crash came from outside, my parents stood alarmed. Then a quiet knock came from the front door. 

“Gully.” My dad said and our house elf appeared next to him. “Has anyone messaged us today while we were out?” 

“No sir.” Gully scratched his head. 

“Ok, thank you Gully.” My dad crept to the front door, wand in hand. We sat in silence as he opened it. But then we heard him gasp. “Sirius!” 

James and I ran to the door. There he was. Sirius Black took there with a broom in his hand with his trunk tied to it. His eyes were red and it looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His mouth opened, but no sound had come out. 

“Oh my, finite!” My mum pointed her wand at the panting Sirius. 

“Thank you.” Sirius’s voice was hoarse like he hadn’t used it in awhile. Then he threw up, all over James.