Chapter 33: Traumatised
James was red-faced and cursing by the time he made it back to Gryffindor Tower. He was so angry, he didn't bother trying to find Lily and instead marched straight up to the boys' dorms so he could hex his friend to within an inch of his life. The next full moon would feel like heaven compared to the pain James Charlus Potter was about to bring upon Remus Lupin.
Somewhere on his second attempt to return from the entrance hall, he determined that it was Moony who had put the spell on him. Peter might be pretty good with defensive charms, but he likely could not have managed whatever sort of spell this was. Plus he was in Divination right now. Sirius had transfigured his eyes and made sure to drop the adipose vial in just the right way to have it shatter only in front of Harry, so James reasoned he would not be the one to thwart his plans. Remus's maddeningly calm response to his arrival only added to his suspicion.
The Prefect looked up from his chess game, a slightly amused smile on his face. "Things not go well?" Remus inquired politely.
"No thanks to you," the boy scowled deeply. "Before your bloody prank, it was going great."
"What prank?"
"Don't you even try to play innocent with me," he warned dangerously as his hand tightened around his wand. "I know it was you, Moony."
"All right," he replied doubtfully. "What exactly is it I'm supposed to have done?"
"Your spell," the irate boy reminded Remus. "The one that sent me to the entrance hall. The one that felt like a portkey…" Remus's face and eyes gave nothing away. After five and a half years of pranks, he knew that the boy's blue eyes glittered subtly with delight when a plan came to fruition; this time his eyes were filled with nothing but concern for his friend. "You didn't do anything, did you?" James asked.
Remus shook his head. "No need. I knew you would bollocks it up on your own."
"Oi!" James cried and slapped him. "I was doing brilliantly!"
"Until…" prompted the Prefect.
"We were talking and I was making up a new nickname for her – apparently she doesn't like me calling her 'Evans' all the time – then I was pulled away. If it wasn't a spell you gits cast, then it really was a portkey." He tore the glasses from his face and the cuff from his wrist, knowing those to be the only items on his body that he could not vouch for. Remus and Sirius took the potentially offending items and studied them, prodding the leather and metal and glass for signs of hidden magic. Even a rather tricky spell from Remus's wand didn't reveal anything. The items were exactly as they seemed, innocuous and boring.
"So what happened?" Remus asked, his voice brimming with excitement as it always did when there was a problem to be solved.
"Like I said, I was just talking to her, trying out new nicknames," James paused. "Wait, both times it happened when I said 'flower' right after her name."
"Worth a try," Sirius said, cleared his throat and spoke in a clear, loud voice, like a student trying out a new spell. "Lily flower!"
They watched expectantly, but nothing happened.
"Lily flower!" Remus repeated.
"Looks like you were wrong, Prongs," Sirius shrugged and threw himself down on Harry's bed.
"I'm not," the boy insisted stubbornly. "It happened twice. I said Lily-flower and— Ha! See!" He pointed to the empty spot where Remus had just been yanked from the room by magic.
"Where'd he go?" Sirius demanded.
"To the entrance hall; same as me," James informed him smugly, more pleased at having been proven right than concerned for his friend.
"Why in the hell would Harry James Granger carry a portkey that takes him there?"
"Why would he carry a portkey at all?" James countered.
They lapsed into silence as they considered the possible reasons their strange new friend might have for keeping a portkey on his wrist. Very few came to mind, but they were still sitting in contemplation when Remus returned to the dorm.
"Why the hell would he have a portkey that activates at the word 'lily-flower'?" he asked, still breathless from his run through the corridors.
"Hadn't even thought of that," Sirius admitted. "Password-locked portkeys are hard to make, especially ones that only work for a single voice."
"Who could have made it, then?" Remus wondered. "They had to have been very powerful to create it, and to hide it from probes." He dropped onto his bed, still studying the bracelet as if there might be some miniscule visual clue he had missed earlier.
A thought came to the confused Chaser suddenly. "Tildy mentioned a portkey," he said. "I didn't bother paying much attention because, you know, Evans was right there, but…"
"But what?" Remus asked, looking up from his search.
"But they were talking about his list of spells, you know that one he keeps hiding from us," James said quietly, frowning deeply as he scoured his memory. "Something about a spell being cast on a portkey; said she had read in a book that one of Harry's spells had been cast on a portkey and it hadn't done the same thing that had happened to me—I mean, to him."
"What thing?" Remus asked.
"I don't know," he growled, his lack of understanding severely shortening his temper. "They were being all vague like Dumbles and Granger were that time we followed him."
"Harry mentioned a portkey that day, too, remember?" Sirius said. "He said that none of his friends knew a spell that could do something when it hit a portkey. What the hell are they all on about?"
All three scowled, annoyed that the boy was still keeping so many secrets from them after knowing them for a third of the year. It was near enough to December that he ought to have trusted them with at least a little information by now, yet three months had passed without Harry James Granger offering even a sliver about himself; all they knew was that he got his middle name from his father, he had been Seeker since first year and that he had a friend rather like Sirius. That was it. Nothing else.
Harry was privy to nearly all but their darkest and most guarded secrets, yet he had somehow managed to avoid telling them anything. Even Remus was ignorant, and he could ply the sister for information between kisses. The Grangers were hiding something massive, of that the Marauders were absolutely certain.
"We need to get into his trunk," Sirius decided.
"It'll have to wait until after the holidays," James said. "Slytherin's put together too strong a team this year. We can't afford to lose him until after the match against them."
Sirius groaned, thoroughly irritated by his best mate's fanaticism. "This is more important than the bloody Cup, Prongs!"
The boy turned his disbelieving eyes on his friend. "Nothing is more important than the Quidditch Cup," he said, his voice steely and dangerous.
That hard tone came again, identical in every way, save that it originated from a different throat, "You absolute prat."
The Marauders spun around, staring wide-eyed at Harry, his damp skin red and raw from his countless attempts to remove the charmed adipose. His glare fell to James. "You," he said again; it seemed the worst word imaginable coming from him.
"I can explain!" James insisted quickly.
"No need," he ground out his reply, keeping his eyes locked onto James. Even without his glasses he was surely able to tell the difference between hazel and green. He had to know what it was about. "Try anything so stupid again and I will hex you."
James nodded his consent without pause; at that moment, Harry James Granger was the most frightening thing he had ever encountered. Despite being wandless, soaking wet and wearing only a towel, Harry's lingering scars, granite tone and stony face easily filled James's brain with every disfiguring and excruciating hex he had ever heard about in whispers. Apparently, he was not alone in that; Remus handed over the boy's glasses and cuff silently as if he were making an offering at an altar before fleeing the room.
"Get this crap off me," the boy demanded.
"James did it," Sirius hastily replied.
"Don't care," he replied flatly, sounding rather more disappointed than angry. "Get it off."
James half expected his hands to shake as he pulled out his wand to cast the spell. He removed the fat that he had charmed to cling to the boy, his friend. "Look, I'm- "
"Don't care," Harry repeated coldly and turned away. He threw on his clothes and left the room while James searched for a way to explain himself.
"Weird, isn't it?" Sirius commented with an odd smile.
"What is?"
"How he makes you want to apologise."
He nodded slowly, thoughts creasing his brow. "We've got to get into his trunk... after the holidays."
oOo
"There you are!" Lily cried as she grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him into a quiet corner of the common room. "You just disappeared before. Was it one of their idiot pranks?"
Harry frowned, unsure exactly what his young mother was talking about. He had been locked in the washroom since class let out, cursing his clumsiness until he sorted out what had really happened. He thought it had been nothing more than a long-overdue prank. With Lily now talking as if he had only just left her side and the Marauder's reaction toward him, this was beginning to appear a little more complicated than just a disgusting joke.
"Yeah, prank," he said slowly.
"Prats," she replied with a click of her tongue. She paused, her brow knitting together for a moment before she took a long, steadying breath. "I'd love to."
"Uh, what?" Harry asked a little stupidly.
"I'd love to go out with you this weekend," she said with a smile. "If you aren't worried about the consequences to the timeline, then neither am I."
Harry was certain he had never felt so ill, not when he had basilisk venom coursing through his body, not when Sirius died or when he faced the Wizengamot or even Voldemort. His mother wanted to go on a date with him. If her flushed cheeks were any indication, she was rather excited about the idea of spending time with him in a romantic way. The disturbed boy looked away, eager to find something to focus on that might help him out of this situation. His gaze landed on James. The boy's eyes were enormous, pleading, and, Harry finally noticed, the same vibrant green as his own.
So it had been more than just a prank.
"Sounds… good," he managed to say, though the idea of what he had just agreed to made bile rise up in his throat. "Let me go break the news to James."
The girl laughed, "Watch out for hexes."
"I think he's the one who out to be worried," Harry muttered darkly as he glared across the common room.
The unnaturally confident and boastful Chaser actually appeared to shrink as Harry approached; he flinched when Harry opened his mouth, no doubt anticipating being shouted at or told that his plan had backfired. "You've got a date this weekend. If you embarrass me, I will hex you. If you hurt her, I will hex you," Harry informed him.
"What?" James gaped, his transfigured eyes wide and his chin hanging somewhere around his knees.
"I told you, I don't like her like that," he reminded him. "And this might be the only chance you have to convince her you aren't an absolute prat."
The boy launched himself at Harry, wrapping him in a rib-breaking hug and lifting him off the floor. "You are the best!"
"Geroff!"
"Whatever you want," James replied eagerly, though it took him another minute to actually release him.
"One more thing," Harry said, making his young father's smile fall. "No matter what happens, at the end of your date you will tell her the truth. I will not have her thinking I fancy her."
The boy nodded his agreement readily even as his brow furrowed in thought. Precisely what was concerning him, he refused to say, terrified he might anger Harry enough for him to withdraw his permission.
"Piss off before she notices your eyes are the wrong colour," Harry ordered, shoving him away and walking back to sit with Lily, all the while fighting the sick that was trying to crawl up from his churning stomach. If this worked, it would be worth the psychological damage.
'Dear, sweet Merlin and all his wacky nephews, please let this work,' he pleaded