evergreen, marauders time travel

chapter three: damn the damning evidence

          I WAS GOING to good old fashion strangle that boy. Muggle style.

"Sirius, I told you to let me do the talking!"

"Don't worry Lilykins, I'll handle this."

I groaned in frustration — Mostly directed towards Sirius' nonchalance at this incredibly serious situation which was entirely his fault — as I struggled against the ropes that bound me. With Marlene on my left, Sirius on my right, and my back pressed firmly against Professor McGonagall's office wall, I didn't have any room to wriggle free and grab a hold of the wand in my back pocket. My feet dangled in the air just inches above the ground as I desperately tried to point my toes and reach it. Unfortunately, my three years of gymnastics as a child had failed to prepare me for magical levitation.

Beside me, Sirius closed his eyes as if he was concentrating intensely on accomplishing something. Whatever it was, his concentration only lasted for a fleeting moment, as his eyes immediately snapped back open at the sound of a familiar voice.

"Who are you?" The woman bellowed.

Professor McGonagall emerged into the light, wand raised threateningly. Her typically prim expression was no longer present, and her eyes darkened at the sight of us. Although her ageing features confirmed our suspicions that we had indeed been sent forward in time, I was suddenly more concerned by her flaring nostrils and quivering lips. I had never, in my six years of knowing her, seen Professor McGonagall less composed than she was right now — and something about that fact unsettled me greatly. Our presence seemed to be immensely startling to her, and I was certain that it was more than just the time travel factor. It was almost as if she was holding back a sob. Like she was sad? Or maybe even scared? Either way, her demeanour was incredibly disturbing.

"You're kidding, right?" James, unfortunately, spoke up. How he ever got to be her favourite, I'll never understand. He was every other Professor's worst nightmare. Only he and Sirius combined was worse. "Moony, how far into the future did you say we were? Surely she hasn't lost her memory yet."

"Not helping, James," Remus muttered back loud enough for Potter to hear across Marlene, Sirius and I who separated the two of them.

"Professor we need your—" I cut myself short in asking for her help, because I could have sworn I saw a tear roll down her cheek. "Professor McGonagall, are you okay?"

"Who are you?" She repeated coldly. She seemed to be facing some internal struggle, as if she wasn't certain whether she should hug us or curse us. Not that I could ever imagine her doing either.

"You're . . . You're not kidding?" James realised. He looked passed Sirius' big head and made brief eye contact with me as if to gain my approval that he had jumped to the correct conclusion. I gave him the slightest nod, bewildered by the situation myself, but confident that he would be the one who could fix it. I may not have understood it, but I didn't doubt that he was her favourite. And, when he chose to be, he could actually be incredibly smart and oddly compassionate. He was our best shot. "Okay, then, well, I'm James. I'm your favourite, which you seem to have forgotten on account of your old age. And this is Marlene—"

"James Potter is dead."

"He's what?" Sirius asked immediately.

I felt my heart plummet in my chest at McGonagall's declaration. We could not have possibly traveled far enough in to the future for James to be dead. He couldn't be. He simply couldn't be. Even if I had spent the last six years in attempts to oppose the fact, I could no longer deny that James Potter was good. He was a pain in my arse, yes, but there was something about James Potter that was just inherently good.