The Marauders: Year Four

Our Own Resistance

Our Own Resistance

James's next Animagus lesson with Professor McGonagall was scheduled for the night of 2 March, and he had thought up the way to get out of it - and to tell Minnie he wasn't going to continue lessons... He brought along Remus and Peter to her office the night of the lesson. Professor McGonagall looked quite surprised by the arrival of three Marauders to their secret lessons and she raised her eyebrow, "What is the meaning of this, Potter?" she questioned as they walked up to where she stood waiting in the doorway of her office in the Transfiguration corridor.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he said, "But we need to talk to you, it's really important, and this was the only time I knew you'd be available, uninterrupted."

McGonagall's eyebrows creased and she looked over Remus and Peter to see how nervous Peter Pettigrew looked and how squared off Remus's jaw was. "Is everything alright?" she questioned.

"No, Professor," said James, "It's not. And that's why we need to talk to you for."

She hurriedly ushered them into the office and closed the door behind them, locking it.

They took their seats before her desk as she came back around it and sat, too. James's throat was tight when he glanced at the bookshelf and saw her collection of tea cups - including his own - and he tried very hard not to think about how excited Professor McGonagall had been about his ambitions... He looked up at her and cleared his throat to steady his voice, and said, "Professor, we want to join the Resistance."

Professor McGonagall's voice was a hardline. "No."

"Professor --" James started, but she cut him off.

"Absolutely not. I refuse to allow anymore children to be fighting this war. No."

"I beg your pardon, Professor," Remus spoke up, "But we're not children anymore, we're very nearly men. After all, James and I are just about to be fifteen within the month and Peter's not that far off..."

"You are not men," McGonagall replied, "You are boys. A man would know that fifteen is far too young an age to be directly involved in a war!"

"We already are directly involved, Professor," Peter said.

"Yeah, we've already fought You Know Who loads of times," James said, "We're ready now, Professor."

McGonagall shook her head, "You don't know what it is you're signing up for. We've already lost two of our boys - Derek Bell and Alex Tinnamin. And you all know about poor Bilius Weasley by now, I expect. I don't need to be allowing the lot of you in and losing you as well!" Her voice was clipped.

Remus looked up, "Professor," he said, and she turned her eyes to his, "I'd rather die like Derek Bell and Alex Tinnamin than live in a world where Voldemort has power. He'd kill us lot on sight whether we are in the resistance or not - he already is after each of us. I'd rather fight than cower down. And honestly, Professor, you need us. You need every hand."

McGonagall felt a rush of memories flood her and suddenly in her mind she was sitting in the low-lit room off the Great Hall, comforting Amelia Salt the night that her father had been killed... and there was Bilius Weasley, his fiery hair and impassioned eyes staring into hers... begging her for the right to fight with words so desperately similar to what Remus had just said. Bilius Weasley, when he was whole and unbroken, when he had the world before him, a future and hope burning in his eyes... a flicker that had been snuffed with the death of his closest friends. She thought of Derek Bell, his blonde hair and classic smile - and Alex Tinnamin, with his black hair and almond-shaped eyes - how young and free those boys had been, how bold and brave... They'd been good boys, they'd been brave boys. They'd all deserved the happy lives that they'd been destined to have...