To Ashes

The year’s tense peace was shattered on a rainy Tuesday evening in November. Everything was fine until it wasn’t. 

James and Sirius were walking to dinner, happily planning the month’s full moon, when a scream ripped through the castle halls. It could’ve been a laugh at first, a joy-filled screech that would eventually break down into hiccuping giggles, the kind that was shared and traded between close friends. But then the shrieking didn’t stop. There was no joy, no humor. Shrill and raw, it sounded like the kind of scream that scraped the throat, and once it started it went on and on and on. 

The two of them just looked at each other and turned on their heels, weaving through throngs of panicking students towards the source. They followed it as it began to taper, withering into a shaking sob that scared James more than any scream.

Everything else drained away, and all James could focus on was the pounding of his feet on the floor underneath him. One foot after the other, again and again and again, striking the ground as he pushed himself faster and faster. He couldn’t think about how their illusion of safety had been shattered, the belief that Dumbledore and the castle walls were enough to protect them was nothing but dust. He just ran. Sirius was streaking along on his heels, lips curled back like a hound scenting blood. 

They careened around a corner to find a group of students stood, frozen, around a small, trembling lump on the floor. A first year, with their head in Mary’s lap, spilling blood onto the floor. It froze him in place for a minute, the sight of the blood seeping into the small cracks of the weathered stone. 

He felt his stomach plunge.

“Someone get help, for the love of Merlin, why are you all standing there?” Mary was shouting herself hoarse, tears streaming down her face, and that was enough for James to start shoving others out of the way to get through. 

He and Sirius dropped to their knees beside them. The quivering pile of robes was a semi-conscious first year Ravenclaw whose name James didn’t know. Trying to assess the damage, James turned her over gently. A strangled gasp swept through the crowd, and at first James thought it was in horror of the bleeding slash across her torso. But then as he pushed her hair out of her face, his fingers met torn and weeping flesh, and he saw what had been cruelly carved across her cheeks. 

“Mudblood.” Mary’s voice was ragged. James’s stomach clenched. He scooped the girl up, taking care not to further tear open her wounds, and was about to take off running for the hospital wing when a second shriek split the air. 

One glance was all Sirius needed, and off he went. 

“Mary,” James coaxed gently, “come with me. I’m not leaving you alone.” Mary grabbed onto his sleeve and they pushed through the crowd, dripping blood as they hurried down the hall.

When they burst into the hospital wing, Sirius and the other victim were already there. Dumbledore and the other professors were gathered around them, and as soon as James opened his mouth for help the girl was whisked from his arms. McGonagall took one look at Mary, trembling and breathing heavily beside James, and sat her somewhat forcefully down in a chair before conjuring her a glass of water.

James couldn’t stop staring as Madam Pomfrey worked. The girl was so young, her body was dwarfed by the hospital bed. He watched as the blood flow was staunched and the wound disinfected, and gradually he became aware that someone was trying to speak to him. 

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t hear you.”

Dumbledore shook his head gently at him. “No apologies necessary, Mr. Potter. I was merely asking if you were alright.”

James shook his head dismissively. “I’m alright. Not the one who was attacked.”

Dumbledore peered at him intently. The normally kind twinkle in his eye was absent. “And did you see who it was who attacked them?”

“No,” James swallowed, hard, “we only heard the screaming.” 

“I see. There are Aurors en route from the Ministry. They’ll be needing to speak with you and Ms. MacDonald in my office, if you’d like to wait there.”

James looked back down at the girl. The other victim’s friends had arrived, crowding around his bed across the room. “Actually, sir, can I wait here with her? Until she wakes up? She’s got no one here with her.” 

Dumbledore gave him a fond smile. “Of course.” He turned to leave.

“Oh, one more thing, sir?” He looked back at James expectantly. “Mary is muggleborn, sir. I don’t think she’ll feel safe walking on her own to the office.”

He nodded gravely. “I will ask Professor McGonagall to escort her when she is ready.”

It took a bit of time before Mary could stand without too much trembling. Professor McGonagall hovered, half ready to push the poor girl down back into her seat. But they eventually left, and as she passed, Mary paused to take a firm grip of James’s wrist. They didn’t speak, just shared that small touch of comfort for a moment. 

Mary’s lips were pressed in a firm line, so tightly that her mouth was just a grim slash across her face. He imagined his own face looked quite similar. The blood had been cleaned from her hands, but there was a smear of it dried at her hairline where she’d pulled her braids back to tie them away from her face. 

James knew there was fear in her eyes but he could barely find it. All he could see was the fury, the rage pouring from her, so strong that James knew in the morning he’d have a bloom of blackened bruises circling his wrist. He covered her clenched hand with his free one and squeezed it gently, and after a few heartbeats she released him. 

Mary and Professor McGonagall left without another word.

The girl - Madam Pomfrey informed him that her name was Amelia - woke about twenty minutes after Sirius left to speak with the Aurors. James was sitting stiffly in a rickety wooden chair at her bedside, staring down at his intertwined hands and trying not to move too much so his chair wouldn’t creak, when he heard her groggily ask where she was.

“Hi, Amelia.” He tried to keep his voice soft . “How are you feeling?”

She blinked warily up at him from the bed. She had very round brown eyes that reminded him of an owl. “I’m orright.”

“My name is James.”

The beginnings of a smile crept across her face. “Yeah, I know.”

“Er, you do?”

“Everyone knows who James Potter is.”

“Ah.” he said awkwardly. “Anyways, do you need Madam Pomfrey? She can give you something for the pain.” 

Amelia shook her head. “Will the scars fade?” Her voice was shaking as she gently at the bandages wrapped over her face. James tried not to think about the torn flesh under his fingers.

“I’m not a healer,” he said apologetically, “but I know Madam Pomfrey is one of the best. If anyone can fade them, it’s her.” Merlin, he hoped so.

Amelia fiddled anxiously with her blankets, not looking at him. “Nobody helped.” She whispered. “I was lying there bleeding, and no one did a thing, not until Mary saw me.” Her small voice broke on the last word and tears started to slip down her face. “We’re supposed to be safe here. How could someone do something like this?” Her shoulders shook as she started to cry in earnest. James frantically craned his neck as he searched the room for some tissues, but he felt a small hand grab his. He squeezed it gently.

“This should never have happened to you. You have just as much right to be here as any other student, half-blood, pureblood, all of them.” James tugged her hand slightly to get her to look at him. “Hogwarts is your home too, and they should’ve never taken that feeling of safety away from you. And if anyone ever gives you a problem again, you come and find me.” 

It was several hours later when James finally trudged into the common room, wrung dry of every drop of energy. He’d given his statement several times to different Aurors, and only after he extracted his memories to be examined via Pensive was he finally dismissed. The entire house was waiting up for him and he was mobbed the moment he walked in. Students jostled and shoved to get close to him, all clamoring for his attention.

“Is she alive?”

“Who did it?

“Did you see who did it?”

“Was it a slytherin?”

“Was it a student?”

“Did they catch them?”

“What did Dumbledore say?”

James closed his eyes against the onslaught, strangely lightheaded.

“ENOUGH!” James opened his eyes to see Sirius elbowing his way roughly through the crowd, glaring at each person he shouldered past. “As I told you before , James and I know just as much as the rest of you, and the next person to ask him a question is in danger of losing a limb, do you hear me ?” 

There were a lot of murmured apologies as the students slunk off. James clapped Sirius on the shoulder.

“I owe you my life.”

“I’ll settle for nothing less than your firstborn child.”

“You’ve got a deal.”

He was about to say something else when out of the corner of his eye he caught a streak of red and a second streak of blonde hurtling toward him. 

“He- oof !” The wind was firmly knocked out of his lungs as Marlene and Lily launched themselves at him. He staggered back a bit before righting himself, patting them both clumsily on the back as he and Sirius stared, bewildered, at each other. Sirius shrugged at him, as if to say, “birds, mate.”

“Hey,” James said awkwardly, “everything’s okay. The students are alright and the Ministry sent Aurors. Where’s Mary?”

Lily answered him, her voice strained. “Upstairs. She took a sleeping potion.”

“That’s good. It’s - Marlie, you okay?”

Strong, stoic, tough as nails Marlene was shaking like a leaf. Even through her silence James could feel how much she resented her own show of weakness. Lily detached herself from James to rub her back, her own face pale and set, and he found himself missing the warmth.

“M’okay,” the muffled answer came, and she finally took a step back, “just a shock. You know. What exactly happened?” Marlene looked so desperate and miserable and scared that James was about to open his mouth to run through the events for the sixth time that day, but Lily stepped in, sliding an arm around Marlene's shoulders.

"I’m sure James has gone through what happened about fifty times tonight, it can wait until morning.”

James could’ve kissed her for that right then and there.

Marlene grimaced. "Right, sorry." She turned to peer anxiously at the stairs. "I don't want to leave Mary alone, even if she's sleeping."

Lily squeezed her shoulder and released her. "You go ahead, I'll be up in a bit."  

As Marlene disappeared into the girls' tower, Remus and Peter trudged slowly down the boys’ staircase, a bottle of firewhisky firmly in hand.

“Thank god.” Sirius groaned, collapsing back into the soft cushions of the sofa. “Give it here.” 

They all settled in front of the fire, no one bothering to hide their impatience as the bottle took its time making its way around the circle. Lily sat with her feet tucked underneath her, using Remus's cloak as a blanket. She looked as worn as the rest of them, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth when she thought no one was looking. When she reached for the bottle James could see red score marks from her nails pressed into her palms. Her worry was Mary's worry, Amelia's worry, every muggleborn student's worry. It only added to his own.

James was both crushingly tired and wide awake all at once, every nerve in his body screaming out. He’d scrubbed his hands and used multiple cleaning charms, but he could still feel Amelia’s blood, warm and thick, seeping through his fingers. He tried not to think about it, or about how deeply, profoundly scared he had been. All of the muffled whispers and quiet tension that had been gathering and pooling and building, all exploding into that one final, screeching scream. If Madam Pomfrey were to open him up, to slice through skin and muscle and sinew, she would see the imprint of that fear on his bones, the way it had ravaged him. 

James tipped another swig of firewhisky down his throat, savoring the heat of it. He couldn’t forget the fear, but maybe he could burn it from the inside out.

They sat there for another hour and talked about everything under the sun except for the attacks and, for that hour, it was almost enough.

It was far past midnight when Lily finally stood, swaying slightly as the exhaustion took hold of her. Sleep had overtaken Sirius, and he was slumped against Remus with his head nestled on his shoulder. Peter was stretched out and snoring softly in front of the fire. It was so close to a happy moment, and something about it made James ache. 

Lily stretched slowly, rolling her shoulders to try to wring the tension from them. She gently covered Sirius and Remus with the cloak, prying the empty bottle from Sirius' clenched hand. She handed it over to James as he stood, and they made their way slowly to the staircases. Lily paused for a moment with her foot on the first step, swiveling to look at him, her face unreadable.

"Thank you for looking out for Mary."

And then she was gone.