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James slowly regained consciousness the next morning, fingers absently clutching the pillow. After a few moments of denying that the morning had come, he sat up, eyes still firmly closed. This achieved, he slowly cracked one eye open. The other shot open a split second afterwards and he shot upright from his slouch, hand diving under the pillow for the dagger he kept there. He couldn't find it. This was most definitely not his room! It was, well, greener for one thing.

Slowly, the memory of last night . . . earlier that morning technically . . . came back to him. He turned his head to see Severus lying next to him, obviously awake and watching him with some amusement.

"Do you do that every morning?" he asked. James blushed.

"I'm not a morning person."

"It's about one in the afternoon."

"Oh. Right."

"The house elves have left some clothes out for you there. Now you're awake, I'll go and make breakfast - they aren't serving meals in the Great Hall today, just snacks. The idea is that the little monsters all ate too much yesterday and we weren't likely to see them until about now anyway."

With that, he swung out of bed and dressed quickly in his robes. James lingered a moment longer, watching appreciatively and putting off leaving the warm bed himself as long as possible. When it seemed inevitable that he would have to move, he cast a warming charm on his feet and padded across the stone floor to his clothes. After pulling his hopelessly messy hair back in an approximation of his normal style, he walked through.

As he'd surmised, he was indeed in Severus' rooms and now came to the familiar main room. The smell of bacon came from a room to the left and to his right was the room when the Malfoys had stayed during their time at the castle.

"Anything I can do?" he asked, leaning on the doorframe as he watched Severus deftly manoeuvring the various pans. His partner looked at him thoughtfully.

"Draco mentioned that your skills at potions were limited," he pointed out.

"That's potions, not cooking. I could cook breakfast decently age seven."

"Could you take over the bacon then while I find some bread and set the table."

James cancelled the hovering spells, uncomfortable with using the household magic he hadn't grown up with. With simple Muggle efficiency, he crisped the bacon nicely and dished it out onto the plate that was held out to him and turned to the egg. A moment later, he came to sit down. Severus tasted the bacon cautiously.

"Nice," he acknowledged. "What's your problem with potions?"

"Power level. I have problems controlling the magic flow and will completely throw any advanced potion off balance. Maybe if I'd started earlier . . ."

A house elf popped into the room clutching a piece of parchment in its tiny fist.

"Professor Evans sir, there is a message for you from the Headmaster sir."

James read it hurriedly.

"Thank you. Could you tell the headmaster I'll take care of it as soon as I finish eating."

The elf bowed until its nose brushed the ground and faded away.

"What is it?" Severus asked.

"Apparently a couple of Gryffindors are duelling in their common room."

"Only Gryffindors. Still, that's Minerva's responsibility."

"She apparently drank far too much last night and is still out cold. He'd like you to find a hangover remedy for her while I deal with the brats."

"He's sending you - a Slytherin house master - to deal with a fight in the Gryffindor common room."

"Consider the alternatives. I imagine Pomona and Filius are busy enough controlling their little darlings, Slytherins being the only ones with any common sense, and that leaves you, me and the unaffiliated teachers in residence, namely Sybil Trelawney. He seems to think you making an appearance in the Gryffindor common room would scar the brats for life so I have to go."

"You've obviously been too easy on them. Why can't the headmaster do his own dirty work?"

"Because he can tell me to do it. There, that's me done. Thanks for breakfast."

James stood up and put his plate on the side by the cooker. Walking back towards the main corridor, he bent to kiss Severus soundly, tasting the bacon still lingering in his mouth.

"See you later," he said, "This shouldn’t take me long."

Muttering about the unreliability of Gryffindors, he marched firmly upstairs to where the Fat Lady was hanging over the entrance to the tower.

"Valour," he said loudly and sternly over her humming. Looking, disgruntled, she swung forwards to allow him to pass.

Storming into the room with a face like a thundercloud, all for the effect of course, he quickly spotted the two miscreants. A boy and a girl, sixth years and quite old enough to know better, they were trading hexes from behind two of the sofas while everyone else had retreated out of reach. A solitary first year had been trapped on the floor between them and was huddled there, unable to escape while her friends looked on in horror.

"Silence!" he shouted. Everyone else became quiet but the two concerned continued. He scowled and moved to grab John Fancourt by the ear. Startled, he dropped his wand and James scooped it up and put it in his pocket. "You two, Professor McGonagall's office immediately!"

His own office being too far off, he appropriated their Head of House's, watched as they left for there, taking Miss Kegg's wand off her as she passed him. He then moved to pick the first year off the ground.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor for keeping your nerve and being sensible. I have one question to ask the lot of you. A first year was in obvious danger of being hit by a stray curse, quite a nasty one at that from what I heard. What happened to Gryffindor honour and courage in terms of stopping an illegal duel and looking after someone who needed the help? If I ever find that this has happened again, one hundred points will be taken . . . from every person who I judge to have the ability to have helped who is present in the common room. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes Professor," came the collective murmur. Several of them, the older years in particular, were looking flushed at that comment.

"Excellent."

Satisfied that he'd made his point, James left without a backwards glance. If he showed one sign of softness after that, the entire lecture would have been in vain. Now he only had to deal with the culprits themselves before he could go and relax.

As he came into the office, a flick of his wand had the door swing shut behind him with a crash. The two students jumped and sat up perfectly straight in their chairs, faces full of righteous indignation as he sat in Minerva's seat. It was considerably more comfortable than the one in his office - a point of dispute at the next staff meeting perhaps.

"I assure you that this is not the way I anticipated spending one of my rare holidays but Professor McGonagall is at present indisposed so I have been asked to clear up whatever petty dispute caused this spectacle and I am not in the mood to be forgiving. Mr Fancourt, you first. I want a full explanation of the events leading up to this . . . duel."

The boy shuffled uncomfortably.

"Well, I'd sort of decided to ask Jess out and I went over to where they were sitting. I asked her if she'd go to Hogsmeade with me in two weeks . . . "

"And then?"

"Then Olivia hexed me! I just defended myself."

"Very well. Miss Kegg, if we could hear your side of the story."

The girl thought for a moment.

"He had most of it there actually. He neglected to mention that he's been going out with me for the past month."

"And you never ended the . . . ah relationship?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

"And you did in fact attack him first."

"I suppose so sir, yes, but it was just a prank hex - green hair. He retaliated with much more serious jinxes."

"So, you are saying that Mr Fancourt approached where you were sitting with the intention of asking his girlfriend's best friend to go on a date with him?"

"That sounds right."

"And I had thought the two of you were mature enough to know better. Mr Fancourt, one assumes that you are aware of the convention that assumes that you only have one girlfriend or boyfriend at a time? It would be extremely foolish, were this not the case, to ask one out in front of the other."

"Yes sir."

"I would recommend that you think very hard as to what you meant by committing to these relationships and continue with only than one of them. Should I find you . . . double crossing a girl again, it is within my powers to prevent you from dating formally during your time at school. I very much hope that I am not called upon to enforce this."

"Yes sir."

"Miss Kegg. I admit that it must be somewhat trying to have your boyfriend attempt that in front of you but would suggest that the Gryffindor common room is not the place for such a dispute. While a prank against him might have helped him learn from the experience, this could have been done without inciting a fight. In duelling club, should you have wished to duel, you could have requested to be partnered where I could oversee the duel and make sure that it was fair and legal. I suggest you remember this in future."

"Yes Professor Evans."

"Now I would like to impress on both of you the school rules you violated - using magic outside of class without permission, fighting in the common room. These rules are in place for the protection of the students. There was one first year who was caught in your duel who certainly didn't have the skills she would have needed to defend herself and could have been badly hurt. A week's detention for both of you with Mr Filch and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor. Do you agree that this is a fair punishment?"

"Yes sir," they mumbled. James smiled coldly, this way he couldn't be accused of favouritism. In actual fact, Gryffindor would only lose fifteen points from each of them thanks to the little first year.

"You may go. See that this doesn't happen again."

James watched as the two of them trailed disconsolately out and sighed, allowing himself a moment to recover before leaving. As he shut the door carefully behind him, knowing that Minerva would kill him if he left it open to pranksters, he turned to see Albus standing behind him, watching calmly.

"Thank you for handling that James," he said.

"I'm sure you could have handled it on your own. Why me?"

"I thought you might be interested in hearing something and it was in my interest for Severus not to know who gave you this piece of information . . ."

"Get to the point Albus!" James snapped. "I had other things planned for today, including spending time with Severus."

"It's his birthday on the ninth."

" Severus's?"

" Who else?"

James thought about this for a moment, then winced.

"I only just managed to think of a Christmas present! What in Merlin's name can I give him now?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something, my boy. Run along now."

He ambled off, leaving James staring after him.

"Why do I have the feeling he's manipulating me?" he sighed. Still, he knew all too well that there was no other place he'd rather be, no other person he'd rather be with, so Albus' and no doubt Abe's meddling would have to be let pass. It was a very useful piece of information after all.

Over the next week or so, James and Severus settled into each other's lives with an ease that surprised even Albus. They still maintained the formality of separate rooms but Hogwarts, ever willing to oblige her favourite, had opened an interconnecting door so it was impossible for anyone to tell in whose quarters they actually lived.

As yet, their relationship had been kept private, only the Dumbledores and Draco knowing for sure other than themselves. James had his own suspicions about a few others but they were keeping very quiet about anything they knew. Alistair did not know yet. They had discussed it and, if their relationship was indeed a long term one, Severus was happy enough with the idea of adopting him, but so far it wasn't his concern.

On the ninth, James tried very hard to pretend he had nothing special planned. In the afternoon, Albus invited Severus up for 'afternoon tea'. Of course, this was hardly an optional event. James hurried down to the kitchens to speak with the house elves about a special supper for them, then apparated off to pick up his gift.

When Severus finally returned, he looked surprised and a little irritated. In his hands was a pair of slippers. James stared at them in amazement: surely even Albus wouldn't . . . Apparently Albus was indeed the only person who would dare or even think to give Severus a pair of bright pink slippers with little white bunnies on top.

"Not a word," Severus said through clenched teeth. James tried very hard not to smile. Gently, he took the slippers from his lover and whispered a spell. They vanished.

"There you go."

"I might have wanted them, you know," Severus pointed out.

"I know. I think they ended up somewhere under the bed. You can burn them later if you want. I think he left you another present down here as well."

Satisfied with that, Severus looked at the room properly for the first time. It was candlelit and a small table sat in the middle of the room. In desperation, James had gone to Draco for advice. To be quite honest, he didn't have a clue what constituted a romantic dinner so he had allowed his friend to tell him. Draco seemed to be finding the whole affair extremely amusing.

"Happy birthday," James said shyly, pointing at a small pile of gifts on the sofa. It turned out that there were quite a few people who had discovered the date other than himself.

"You didn't have to . . . "

"But I wanted to."

There was a long pause.

"Thank you," Severus said at last. Then he frowned. "Who told you the date?"

"Albus," James said quickly, deciding that the slippers were reason enough to expose him to revenge. To his surprise, the other man laughed.

"Meddling old codger."

"Isn't he just. He's been throwing us together from the start. Here, this is from me."

Eyes lowered, he held out a large, flat package. Severus took it carefully and sat down on the sofa to unwrap it, pulling James down with him. He removed the paper very carefully, putting the ribbon aside and folding the paper. By the time he was ready to look at the actual present, James was practically squirming in his seat. In the end, he had decided to give Severus a painting of Hogwarts, showing the lake to the far left and the Quidditch pitch in the distance to the right. It had been enchanted, so there were players flying on the pitch and every so often you could see groups of tiny students emerging from the castle. There was a long pause as Severus examined it carefully, taking in every detail. For a moment, James thought he didn't like it and was afraid to say.

"Where did you find it?" he asked at last.

"There's a shop near Diagon Alley. I was looking around and saw it and thought that maybe you'd like it. If you don't, I can always exchange it for another . . . "

Severus cupped his cheek in his hand and lifted his face so he was looking at him instead of at his shoes.

"It's perfect. I don't think there's anything else you could get me that would equal it, so stop worrying." He dropped a gentle kiss onto his lips before continuing. "Do you know which enchantments are on it?"

"Not really."

"Let me try something, I've seen Albus using a similar picture."

He frowned slightly, as if chasing an elusive memory and said a few words in Latin. To James' amazement, the view zoomed in to the Great Hall, then wound its way through the corridors to the Headmaster's office. As they moved through the door, the canvas went blank.

"Oops," James said.

"He'll have wards up against any spying equipment," Severus explained. "He has one of these himself."

"So that's how he keeps track of everything so easily!"

"Indeed. I've warded my chambers in the same way as the office and I'd check your rooms as well, your bedroom in particular."

"You don't think he'd . . . " James exclaimed, blushing furiously. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"This is Albus Dumbledore."

"Point taken. If he thought it was for your own good, he'd do just about anything. Show me how to do the spells sometime. Right now though, it's your birthday, so shall we eat?"

They talked for a long while over dinner and afterwards. At James' reminder, Severus opened his other presents: from Albus, Minerva, Poppy, Draco and, surprisingly enough, Remus and Hermione. Each present was thoughtful and/or useful but despite James' worry that one of them would supplant his own as the best, none quite managed to equal it. Books were fine, as were Albus' slippers, however the emotional meaning wasn't the same.



* * * * * * * * * * * * * *



A few days later, their evening was surprised by a sixth year student, a boy by the name of Arnold Warrington whose father was a known Death Eater.

"Mr Warrington," James said with surprise. Few students bothered them in their quarters: there was an alarm in the common room for emergencies and they made rounds of the dormitories every night. "What can I do for you?"

"Is Professor Snape there sir?"

"These are his quarters. Come in."

Rather uncomfortably, Arnold took a seat perched on the edge of a chair. Severus and James took seats near him. There was a long pause before he began.

"What do you think about the Death Eaters, Professor Evans?" he blurted eventually. James thought about his answer carefully.

"I am opposed to them," he said candidly. "In fact, I'm an Order of the Phoenix member."

He seemed to relax, so presumably that was the right answer, especially when Severus confirmed it with a nod of his head.

"My father mentioned over Christmas that he might be withdrawing me from school so I could receive a proper education," Arnold said, talking more freely now. "He's a Death Eater and thinks I need to learn the Dark Arts so that I can join the Death Eaters in the next few months."

"I take it you are less than enthusiastic about the idea?" Severus asked.

"I'm not stupid sir, I know they're going to lose. Besides, everyone knows Lucius Malfoy is more than a bit mad."

Severus leaned back in his seat, a small crease appearing on his forehead as he seemed to consider his options.

"As I see it, there are three main options. The first is that you remain at the school in defiance of his wishes. You'll be easy for him to find and the governors would probably intervene. The second is that we send you to a safe house with a strong supporter of the Light who could continue your education. The last is that you go home and remain in your father's favour but we engineer some reason that you can't join."

"I think I'd better go home sir."

Severus thought for a moment. James wondered briefly if this was the first student who had come to him for help.

"Tell me, have you ever had Dragon Pox?"

"I don't think so sir."

"Then you'll be particularly vulnerable. It tends to lie dormant for about a week depending on your age and magic level - enough time for you to be withdrawn from school before you become infectious. After that, your magic becomes unstable and you will have to be kept fairly isolated. Obviously, you would be of no use to them until you healed, by which point you can only hope that the fight will have ended or at least be going badly enough that your father will reconsider sending you. Should this not be the case, I can give you an emergency portkey to escape with. Does that sound acceptable to you?"

"Yes sir," Arnold said quietly, looking very subdued and a little surprised that he was agreeing to be infected with one of the worst childhood ailments in the wizarding world. Most youngsters had had it by the time they started at Hogwarts but the more developed and stronger your magic, the worse the effects were and the longer they lasted.

"James, have you had it?"

"No," he said, a little startled by the question. "I was muggle raised."

"I think you had better return to your own quarters then. Should you catch it now, the effects could be disastrous. I will disinfect myself thoroughly as soon as I am finished."

James could see the logic of that, so he smiled reassuringly at Arnold and left via the connecting door. Severus came after him an hour or so later, looking tired and worn.

"And so it starts again," he said, sighing. "I'd hoped that there wouldn't be any new Death Eaters from this generation but apparently I was wrong. We will have to keep track of any odd absences from school and warn the rest of the staff to watch out for suspicious behaviour."

"I think all of our Slytherins have more sense," James said, trying to be encouraging.

"I'd like to think I haven't wasted my time. There's a good crowd of older students, Archie for one, at the moment who will report any suspicions, which makes things easier. Other than that, we can only hope."



* * * * * * * * *



As predicted, Arnold was officially summoned home the next day. His trunk was packed and all of the house shook his hand solemnly as he left for what might be the last time. They weren't stupid, all of the older ones knew exactly what his father had planned for him, the younger ones knew at least that it was bad. He wouldn't be forgotten and they were all hoping for his safe return.

A couple of days after his departure, the school received an owl informing them that Arnold had fallen ill with Dragon Pox and they should be alert for an epidemic in the school. It was simple politeness perhaps, trying to stay in favour with the leaders of the Light whilst toadying to the Dark. James sincerely hoped the teenager would be all right and that he would never need to use the ring portkey he'd been given.

The next weekend, James had invited Alistair down to his quarters for the afternoon. After making the decision to consider adopting, it seemed sensible to make an attempt to get to know each other outside the restrictions of the school day, where they tried to keep strictly to a teacher-pupil relationship.

They didn't talk about much, certainly not anything important. They discussed the different League Quidditch teams and how stupid Geoffrey in sixth year was acting over his new girlfriend. Not having grown into those particular hormones, Alistair found it immensely funny whereas James sympathised but was just old enough not to feel a little insulted. James also helped Alistair with his homework in some of the subjects he found difficult, not of course in Defense Against the Dark Arts but in History of Magic in particular. It seemed that Binns was as boring as ever, so he passed on the tips that he'd been given in his first year on how to make up convincing goblin names that would fool almost any examiner.

They were having tea and biscuits, curled up together on the sofa, when Alistair suddenly went slightly red-faced, squirming slightly in his seat. James looked on with interest - it was highly unlikely the boy could say anything that would embarrass or upset him and it would be easy enough to deflect if he did. He waited a few minutes, seeing if he'd say it without prompting. It quickly became apparent that he believed it far too embarrassing.

"Spit it out then."

"Well . . . sir . . . James . . . if you don't mind me asking . . . "

"I don't bite," James said, trying to help him out. "If I don't want to answer something, I'll just tell you and we can forget about it."

"Are you and Professor Snape together?" he blurted at last, face Gryffindor red with embarrassment. "I mean like he's your boyfriend?"

While that hadn't been quite the question he'd been expecting, James was highly amused, more than a little curious as to which of the older Slytherins had put him up to it. Alistair was a nice boy but a bit young to be reading the subtle signs of a relationship. He was also Muggle-raised, less used to the idea that two men could be involved just as seriously as a man and a woman. He wondered what Severus would think about being called his 'boyfriend' - it sounded a little too adolescent to him.

"Yes," he answered candidly, trying to keep a straight face despite the humour he saw in the situation, "though I wouldn't call him that if I were you. Does it bother you?"

"I . . . uh . . . well I didn't know that two guys could be together and . . . "

"And someone told you to ask so you could satisfy the gossips in Slytherin?" James guessed, knowing quite well what older students, Slytherins in particular, were apt to persuade the younger ones do to. "Don't worry, I was expecting them to try something like this since we aren't giving anything away to them."

"I don't mind sir, really," Alistair said earnestly. "Professor Snape is nice."

"How many Gryffindors do you think would faint if you said that?"

Alistair snickered, infected like all of his housemates with a feeling of great superiority over their more immature counterparts.

"Well Gryffindors are stupid sometimes."

"True. Now, I was going to wait until you were a bit older before explaining things to you but I'll give you a basic explanation. When you get a man who loves men rather than women, he's called a homosexual."

"What about normal . . . I mean man and woman?"

"Heterosexual, though no one uses that either. I don't think anyone your age would use the word homosexual, they might be more likely to say the man was gay or queer or something along those lines. Either way, it happens in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds but people are more open about it in the wizarding world. Here the idea is that you love a person for their personality, not for their gender. You know about Charlie and Oliver, don't you?"

"I thought they were just friends," Alistair admitted innocently. "Like me and Simon. But you can't have children without a woman, can you?"

"Um . . . well not in that sense," James said carefully, trying very hard not to be the one to explain about the mechanics of sex. That task would fall to Madam Pomfrey for the girls and probably Severus for the boys. Whatever happened, it wouldn't be him. "We can adopt though and there are spells we can use so that it's like we're really a child's parent by blood as well. It means that there aren't many children who have to live in orphanages."

"Are you going to get married?" Alistair asked, not seeming to realise that it might not have been discussed.

"Wizards and witches don’t usually get married. What actually happens is a ceremony called bonding. As to Severus and myself, it's a little too early to tell."

"Will you still want me if you're living with him?"

James felt a surge of sympathy for the little boy who thought he was about to lose him so soon after his parents. Feeling awkward, he put an arm around his shoulders.

"Alistair, I said I would look after you. Severus has also told you he'd look after you. Do you think that the fact that we live together would make any difference? I've always wanted to have children and I wouldn't give you up for anything."

"What brought this on? Severus asked from behind them. "I thought you were having tea, not a heart to heart confession."

James jumped, he hadn't heard him come in. Alistair had gone bright red again.

"Someone told Alistair about us being together so I was explaining to him," James managed to say casually.

"Who?"

"Older Slytherin I imagine, with suspicions but no concrete proof. We were just clearing up a few misconceptions, that's all. Do you want some tea?"

"Now you sound like Albus. Milky if you would, please. Do you understand now, Alistair?"

"Y-yes sir."

"You're welcome to come to talk to either of us at any time," Severus reminded him gently. He then changed the subject to a less personal one. "What do you think of our chances for the Hufflepuff game? James seems to think we should be worried about their beaters."

"They aren't bad but ours are better and all of our team is better. Their seeker is a seventh year who's so slow I could beat him on a school broom!"

Alistair left again just before dinner and Severus burst out laughing. James stared at him. Severus chuckled on occasion and he'd caught him grinning a couple of times but this was just worrying.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked, getting a little scared.

"You really gave him the talk?!" Severus gasped, attempting to calm himself down. "The look on your face . . . "

James scowled. It had been very difficult for him without the chance to think about what to say and now Severus was laughing at him. Then he smirked slightly.

"About all I told him was that it was possible for two guys to be together and that we still wanted him. I left all the mechanics of it for you. I'll warn you that he's a complete innocent - I think his mother kept him very sheltered. He didn't even know that two men together was even possible."

Severus sobered up immediately, thinking of all the awkward questions he'd be faced with when speaking to Alistair and his male year mates in their third year. He'd become used to the wizarding children and outgoing, independent muggleborns that were more common in Slytherin. The fact that someone could be eleven without even knowing about sex was, quite frankly, astonishing.

"Sorry for laughing," he said, thinking about the teasing he'd get when The Talk came round. "You just looked so uncomfortable and serious trying to explain it to him and he was even worse than you."

"I was trying very hard not to get into anything specific. I wonder how long it will take for the rumours to spread."

"Do you mind?"

"Not particularly. At least if they know I'm exclusively gay and it's not just rumours I won't get the girls . . . oh dear."

"What?"

"Valentine's Day is in less than a month."



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



The day of the Slytherin v. Hufflepuff Quidditch match dawned sunny and warm, much to the relief of the Hufflepuff team. They knew that the Slytherins had been unlucky in the timing of their training sessions and had had to cope with snow, hail and high winds. Besides, it was very uncomfortable flying in the cold - your hands tended to go numb whatever warming charms you used on them.

James and Severus sat in the front row of the teachers' box, James clad proudly in his new Slytherin robes as befitted the team coach. He'd also obtained a Slytherin banner off Alistair and had hung it proudly and prominently above him, right in front of Pomona, who sat directly behind him. She appeared most put out by it but the others all seemed entertained. As the coach of the Slytherin teacher, no one could expect him to show professional impartiality and there weren't exactly any rules against it. Albus had suggested that Alistair could sit with them for the match but James had thought back to his own matches. It would be no fun for the kid if he couldn't boo the Hufflepuffs without Pomona or Minerva taking points.

The Slytherin team zoomed onto the pitch first, just as Madam Hooch brought the balls out onto the grass. The wash of green in the stands cheered, making a few of the older teachers jump. James was pleased to see a few of the Ravenclaws joining them as he tapped his wand on the banner and it began to boom out 'SLYTHERIN'. Pomona Sprout looked like she was about to be sick - while normally an amiable sort of person, she got very competitive when her house was playing.

When the Hufflepuff had joined them in their canary yellow robes, James saw the two captains shake hands, the Hufflepuff looking a little nervous as Archie squeezed his hand a little harder than strictly necessary. Madam Hooch gave the word, they remounted and took their places and the game began.

Hufflepuff caught the Quaffle as she tossed it up and James watched in amazement as their youngest Chaser shot down the pitch, the Slytherin Beaters moving to head her off while the Chasers remained towards the Hufflepuff end. James almost jumped out of his seat in horror: this hadn't been a tactic they'd discussed!

The Keeper caught the shot and used his broom to send the Quaffle shooting back down the pitch, well past the Hufflepuff team who'd moved forwards to support their teammate. The Slytherins were then able to move forwards and score in the confusion. James allowed a smile of approval to sneak onto his face as he watched the commentator flick the score panel and give ten points to Slytherin.

In an arrow formation, the Chasers shot around the stadium in a victory lap, quickly returning to their positions to meet the next offensive.

Five minutes later, a Hufflepuff beater was taken to the infirmary with a bludger to the head. The Slytherin beater responsible claimed it was an accident, his counterpart's ineptitude at aiming and was given the benefit of the doubt. It was certainly a shot that could have been countered even if it was frowned upon. The game continued, Hufflepuff a player down.

After five more Slytherin goals, Hufflepuff managed to score and the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor stands went wild. At last, something was going in their favour. The Slytherin teachers kept their faces blank as Pomona started babbling with relief to Poppy.

Suddenly Severus shifted in his seat, head swinging round. James followed his gaze to see a blur of yellow twirling around one of the boxes to their right, the Slytherin seeker close behind and gaining. For his first year on the team the kid was really doing remarkably well - this would be his second catch if he made it.

As they rounded the tower and came back into view, they were no longer racing as strongly, the snitch appeared to have vanished. There was a collective sigh from the stands. Chaser action was good but nothing could quite match the speed or the danger that came from the Seekers.

It was an hour later before the seekers moved again from their position high above the rest of the players. This time it was Davis in the lead, the smaller figure diving almost straight down, arm outstretched, the Hufflepuff in his wake. Even the Chasers seemed to pause for a moment, watching.

The Seekers neared the ground fifty metres . . . thirty . . . twenty . . .

A cheer went up from the stands, deafening everyone. Davis, the brave little thirteen year old, had caught the snitch and was standing proudly in the middle of the pitch, snitch held high in his fist as he turned to acknowledge the applause. A moment later, he was swamped by his teammates and swung up on their shoulders as they bore him, still holding onto his prize, back towards the castle.



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



It was a month or so later when he next got any large period of free time. Weekdays he taught, with detentions and marking in the evenings. After that he spent time with Severus, cementing their relationship to the point where it seemed certain to be a long term partnership. At weekends, he made sure to spend at least one afternoon with Alistair. Unfortunately, as attack frequencies were increasing as the new Death Eaters became bolder, the number of Order of the Phoenix meetings and strategy sessions were more numerous and longer. Teachers and older students were walking around with more serious faces now and James was reminded of the impact every time he saw a Ministry Auror. They, of course, were right in the thick of it: tired, battered, wounded and heart-sore.

Revelling in the chance to take a break and unable to help Severus with his potions, James decided to visit the Malfoys. He hadn't been over to the castle for a long time and was curious to see what had been made of it.

He persuaded the house elves to give him a nice bottle of wine and bought a mobile for Harry's nursery before wandering down to the edge of the anti-apparition wards to leave.

As a member of the bloodline, he was able to apparate directly to the great Hall and did so with relief. It was deserted when he arrived but he looked around curiously. The floor underfoot was tiled with great stone flagstones like those used at Hogwarts and the tables and benches had been varnished and polished until they shone in the sunlight. The few slits that had been used for light and ventilation had been replaced with large stained-glass windows that depicted - as far as James could guess - scenes from wizarding history. In the light, he could see that the weaponry on the walls was also polished to an almost perfect gleam.

Spread out on the head table were a few rough maps and sketches. James poured over these curiously, noting the complete illogic in its layout and wondering how his friends had managed to map it in the first place.

"Master Evans is here!" came the high pitched squeal of a house elf from behind him. James spun on his heel to see what was unmistakably Dobby. Even the few other free house elves he had seen had better taste in clothes - wearing different coloured patterned socks on your ears wasn't a particularly reassuring sign.

"Morning Dobby. Do you know where Mr and Mrs Malfoy are?"

"Dobby believes that Master Draco is out flying and Mistress Blaise is in the nursery with Master Harry."

"Could you show me up to the nursery please."

"Certainly Master Evans. This way sir."

"How are you finding it here then?"

"Dobby is liking it very much. All of the other house elves are accepting Dobby's freedom and Dobby is liking Wat very much, even if he doesn't like Dobby's clothes. Dobby thinks Wat is a little bit old-fashioned. He doesn’t seem to know what plumbing does."

"How many house elves are there here?" James asked, suddenly realising that he didn't know how many were needed for an estate of this size.

"Dobby is uncertain of exactly . . . "

"Just an estimate will do."

"Dobby thinks there are about fifty that work inside and a hundred that work outside. They is all very happy that Master Evans and Master Malfoy have come because it means they is working properly again. Master Evans has reached the nursery now," Dobby said, ending abruptly in that odd way that seemed unique to house elves.

"Thank you Dobby, I'll call you if I need you."

Dobby bowed deeply and vanished with a faint wisp of smoke. James' smile got even broader. He'd learned over time how to deal with a typical house elf such as most of those that worked at Hogwarts or the University. Dobby wasn't exactly typical, so he'd had to revise his approach a little and the elf seemed to appreciate a little more personal conversation as well as the clear orders and instructions. He quite liked Dobby - he was one of the few that were happy to chatter to him openly even if his grammar wasn't quite as good as say Wat's and grated a little on the ears.

James pushed open the wooden door they'd stopped in front of to reveal a large, sunny room with windows - charmed or not he wasn't sure - covering most of one wall. The floor was carpeted in a dark blue and a cot stood in the corner. The wall behind the desk was full of books that had presumably been gathered from around the house or salvaged from the Malfoy residence. Baby Harry was seated in a playpen with his toys around him like a prince with his subjects around his podgy self, while Blaise sat at a desk, looking over papers and making the occasional note on a sheet of parchment. Occasionally she glanced over at her child with obvious fondness, it appeared that motherhood agreed with her. Unusual in such large place, it seemed the room served as nursery, study and living room to them and he could see why.

He cleared his throat, feeling a little like an unwanted intruder with no right to be there.

"You're back early Draco," she said without turning or even looking up from her reading, knowing that there weren't many others who were permitted to be there and no visitors planned.

"I'm not Draco," James said, grinning. She turned hastily, looking embarrassed as she hastily stood up to kiss his cheek welcomingly.

"Sorry James. We weren't expecting you or I'd have met you downstairs."

"Don't worry - it isn't like I gave you any warning. I just came for a visit, nothing important."

"I'll send a house elf to flag Draco down and then we can show you what we've done here so far."

"Where is he?"

"Out flying. We're compiling an updated map of the area and of course he volunteered to do the legwork. I have to say that it's been very interesting putting our abilities to good use."

"What do you mean?"

"All of us of a certain standing were trained in estate management and the like when we were kids but the Malfoy property is mostly run by lawyers now and even the house itself is looked after by the house elves. This is our first chance to really get into it."

Draco burst in five minutes later, hair unusually untidy and face flushed from the chilly air. Obviously the time of relative relaxation had done him no harm whatsoever, quite the opposite actually - both he and Blaise looked healthy and fit, comfortable in far more informal robes than the unspoken rules of society required them to wear.

"James!" he exclaimed, smiling. "What are you doing here?"

Whilst waiting for an answer, Draco placed a kiss squarely on Blaise's mouth and scooped Harry up to tap his nose with a finger, which the kid promptly grabbed. Draco laughed.

"I just felt like visiting," James replied, watching with envy their comfortable interaction.

Draco paused and took a long look at him. James shuffled uncomfortably but was unable to wipe the grin from his face. It seemed to have been plastered there for a long time and reappeared whenever he started thinking about his life.

"What's happened to you then? You're practically bouncing and for you that really is saying something," Draco said, his smirk telling James that he had at least guessed it already. At University it had always been Bertie and Draco that were the wild ones, with James often being dragged along with them but rarely losing his cool. In fact, making him relax completely had been something of an ongoing challenge for them. James personally felt that it was related to not getting drunk in case he let slip his identity.

"How do you tell if you're in love with someone?" James asked, completely serious. He was a little confused about the whole idea after seeing so many conflicting signs. Certainly he would never have felt comfortable talking to the Dursleys about it and he wasn't sure theirs was an ideal relationship anyway. Abe and Albus were both supposedly single and he wasn't sure he'd get a straight answer from them anyway and Hermione would be likely to give him a textbook definition without really helping him. Severus, one of the few other people he trusted, was a little too close to the issue to discuss it with. As for Remus, well, he wasn't entirely sure that a werewolf was legally allowed to marry or anything, so it might be a touchy subject.

Draco and Blaise exchanged a glance and moved together to sit down on a sofa, pulling James with them.

"Do you respect him and his beliefs?" began Draco.

"Yes."

"You don't mind that he has some secrets?" Blaise asked. Obviously this was going to be like an interrogation. James had to think a bit about that question, the answer not being obvious as he confronted his feeling and applied logic.

"No . . . well a little but I have plenty of secrets that I wouldn't feel ready to tell him yet so I guess I can accept it."

"Do you spend time with him when you're not shagging?" Draco asked bluntly, mouth quirking upwards. James wasn't sure if he was serious or just teasing.

"Of course."

"Other than when you're working, I mean."

"Yes, most evenings actually."

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't appreciate his body, so I won't even ask that. Besides, I don't want details. I'm supportive but completely straight and the mental image of you and my godfather is a little bit weird. Um . . . do you feel you could go to him for advice if you needed it and trust his answers?"

Yes."

"How about waking up to see him every morning for the next hundred and fifty years?"

"I could live with that," James said with a smile. "Supposing I live that long, of course."

"If there are no other things that we've forgotten, I think you're on the track for love then. It is Severus, isn't it?"

"Who else?"

"Congratulations," said Draco, smiling broadly at him. His face suddenly went stern. "However, if you hurt him I will personally hunt you down - and I'll be telling him this as well - my personal safety be damned. Do you want to have a look at what we've done so far then?"

James blinked a few times, muddled by the sudden change in topic. Draco was pulling out think folders and rolls of parchment. He spread one out on the floor and tapped it with his wand. Immediately a transparent three-dimensional image of the castle appeared. It was a little disorientating but he could see each individual room and staircase. Some areas appeared incomplete and they were merely solid blocks of completely clear air.

"This is what we've managed to map so far," Blaise said, looking at it with a hint of pride. "Most estates have them and it's what we're used to dealing with so we thought it would be a good place to start. With a place like this it's better than a map since there aren't proper floors - each area has its own system. We're here."

She waved her wand and a box-shaped area flashed red for a moment.

"That’s been our main project - with the house elves help, of course - and it's been very interesting looking through everything. It's a little like being in a museum. You have some very obscure weapons lying around, you know. We've also been trying to do some modernising - thank you very much for sending Dobby along. He's a little odd but very helpful."

"So far we've done five bathrooms," Draco said, a little sourly. "Blaise insisted that that was the most important thing."

"People are happier sleeping on the floor than they are relieving themselves in the moat, especially ladies. You can't expect a man to really understand these things."

"I've been doing some work on the room designs as well," Draco continued, glaring mock indignantly at Blaise.

"You?" James asked.

"I'll have you know my sense of colour co-ordination has been trained into me from birth and I have excellent taste. My mother was famous for it - after all, it was her that used to set the fashions among pureblood society."

James wasn't sure it was something he'd be quite that proud of but let it slide. Draco was just a little strange sometimes.

"Since you're here, you can give me a hand with doing what we thought would be your bedroom. Wat said it was the first room you found, which means that the ambient magic there must suit you. Besides, it is one of the more accessible ones for the courtyard and the Great Hall and it is one of the Slytherin ones. Come on."

James stared at him. As soon as he thought he understood the wizarding world, they'd come up with something new to shock him with. Why couldn't they accept that it was just chance he'd picked that staircase, coincidence that it had been Slytherin's room? It wasn't as if anyone knew for certain if ambient magic even existed, let alone influenced your decisions! Shaking himself, he hastily strode after him - Draco might have a working knowledge of the castle but James most certainly didn't and was likely to get lost on his own.

When they arrived at Slytherin's old room, James noted that it hadn't changed much if at all from his first visit.

"Wat says that no one's used this room since Salazar Slytherin," Draco said, voice quiet and sounding more than a little awed by the idea despite his usually nonchalant attitude. Growing up in the lap of luxury obviously hadn't prepared him to view the personal items of one of the world's greatest heroes. "We thought you might want to keep most of the stuff in here and just give it a bit of modernising."

"I think I'll just go along with your suggestions," James said quickly. He had no experience whatsoever in this sort of thing. Draco's resulting smirk was very worrying and he wondered if he should retract the comment before deciding it would lose him face and be the coward's way out. It was strange how his Gryffindor and Slytherin sides meshed.

"What sort of flooring would you like?" Draco asked. "We can't do it all with magic but we can prepare it easily enough."

"Um . . . carpet?"

Draco seemed to understand that this wasn't a decision he'd ever been asked to make before.

"We've mostly been using wood, carpet or stone with rugs," he explained generously. "Carpet is probably best for your bedroom so that you won't freeze your feet off during the winter. Whatever you choose will mean we'll need to get rid of these furs - they smell too much to reuse but I suppose there wasn't much else they could use then and at least they'd be soft to tread on. Heap them up by the window and we'll portkey them somewhere harmless or see if the house elves want them. Wat can get just a little scary if you don't talk to him before you throw things out."

James had to try very hard not to laugh at the idea of Draco being bullied by a house elf given how most purebloods treated them. He wondered what had given him the wisdom to realise this and would probably have given a great deal to see it.

They dealt with that in short order and proceeded to inspect the bed. This consisted of Draco gingerly climbing onto it while James watched and, when it didn't collapse immediately, lying down after muttering a cleaning spell to get rid of the dust.

"Better than most I've found," he said with a superior air of professionalism. "But not exactly comfortable - they simply didn't have the technology. We'll get the elves to get a new one for you and you'll probably want to enlarge the bed if you're intending to share it. You tend to sprawl, especially when you have nightmares."

James blushed but agreed, knowing that it had been Draco sent to wake him often enough during his student days for him to know what he was talking about.

Very soon, Draco had asked a house elf to fetch them some cans of paint to allow them to finish off what he called the preliminary work. Apparently it was indeed possible to spell your walls a colour but unless you were in a sentient building such as Hogwarts, the effects weren't as good as you got with simple manual labour. Despite having been all too used to this type of work in the past, James found it oddly relaxing and enjoyable but a lot more tiring than he remembered. He was glad when Draco called a lunch break and they returned to meet up with Blaise.

The couple ate in small dining room near to the nursery, a house elf taking care of Harry while they dined. James could see the logic of it - if the Hogwarts Great Hall was uncomfortable with only the staff there, this Hall - four times the size and not nearly so welcoming in design - would be even more so for just the two of them. The food served up on the other hand was just as good as anything the Hogwarts elves managed and probably better. The dishes were unknown to him though, given that they were the foods that the elves were used to, centuries out of date.



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