The Rise And Fall Of The Stag And The Doe

The Weight Of Us

"Mr. Potter," Albus Dumbledore cleared his throat, his voice laced with deep disappointment. "Please explain to me exactly what happened tonight."

James swallowed and looked around the Headmaster's office nervously. "Today, Sirius…" The name jammed in his throat, but he pushed on like it didn't matter, like nothing mattered. "He told Peter, in front of Snape, how to get into the Shrieking Shack… I only found out it was happening when Snape was already through the tunnel… I picked him up and took him to the hospital wing."

"How did you receive your injuries?" Dumbledore questioned, pressing his fingertips together pensively.

"Running from Remus, but I swear, sir," James pleaded earnestly, "he didn't know anything about any of this."

"Did you?"

James frowned and said, "No, sir."

"James?" Dumbledore asked clearly, his blue eyes scanning James for deceit.

"I truly didn't, sir!" James cried, running his hands through his hair furiously, his face red and stained with tears. "I swear! I hate Snape, I do, but I would never…I wouldn't…" He let out a hot breath, and continued, "If he hexed me I'd hex him out, but I wouldn't have done this. I wouldn't have done this to Remus."

Dumbledore tilted his head, eyeing James curiously. "I believe you, Mr. Potter."

"Look—" James started fiercely raising his hands for emphasis, but then he stopped and froze as Dumbledore's words registered in his scattered mind. "Oh…Oh, sorry, Professor."

"It's perfectly alright, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore acknowledged softly. "I imagine you've had quite a traumatic evening rescuing someone you are not particularly fond of, and out-running werewolves."

Blinking unsurely, James adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "Er…yeah."

"My last question before I send you off to take care of Remus is this," Dumbledore paused.

James fidgeted anxiously, his fingers drumming on the side of the sofa. He just wanted to make sure Remus was all right. He didn't have the energy to sit still, but he wouldn't dare walk out on Dumbledore. So he just stayed perched on the chair, silently begging Dumbledore to just let him go. He needed to see Remus, to reassure himself that he hadn't lost another friend tonight.

"How did you get away from Mr. Lupin?" Dumbledore wondered aloud suspiciously. "I've never seen a human that was able to move faster than a werewolf."

"I know Remus, sir," James explained quickly. "I know how to distract him."

Dumbledore's face stayed impassive as he said, "And his behavior was similar in his werewolf form?"

"Absolutely," James lied through his teeth.

Dumbledore stared at James for only a minute more, but it didn't feel like that at all to James. It felt like years had gone by, and the whole time he was wracked with guilt. He didn't ever want to lie to Dumbledore. Ever since he was a first year, all he wanted was to meet the man on all of his wizard trading cards, but as soon as he did, he always wished he would have made a better first impression…and second impression…and third… Truthfully, until a year ago, James had always felt guilty that the greatest wizard of all time only saw him when he was doing something wrong. But a year ago, he came into Dumbledore's office and resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing he could do about it. It occurred to him because for the first time in his life he had done absolutely nothing wrong. He had been coming back from class with Peter in the dungeons when a pack of Slytherins hexed the hell out of him, and just as James crawled over to his wand, McGonagall appeared and accused him of starting a duel.