Semper Fidelis

Chapter 14.5

At the sound of spells being cast, Remus joined the spectacle outside the only closed door.

"I think... I think we might need the boy for this," Draco said, biting his lip in thought.

Remus looked at the analyst. "Why?"

"Because I've seen a protection spell like this before," the blonde said. "And it was a very powerful and very complicated bit of blood magic."

Nova gasped. "Blood magic? Isn't that dark magic?"

Immediately Draco shook his head. "No, that's a common misconception. Blood magic doesn't always equate dark magic, though it certainly can lead to it. It's just a branch of magic that requires blood to cast and to break. We need the boy because I reckon only he can dismantle the protection on this door..."

Draco continued his explanation but Harry had tuned him out. He was looking at the closed door, his face in chagrin. One word echoed in his mind.

Why?

Why go through all of this trouble to protect this one room?

Why does this house feel so familiar?

Why was Ms. Watson targeted?

Why was Minerva involved?

Why does it have to be James?

And, most importantly, why does he feel as if he had missed something?

His right hand moved on its own accord and inched closer to the handle.    

Harry almost expected to be zapped by the invisible shield but he was able to close his grip around the silver.

The door sighed.

There was a soft click.

The door unlocked.

With a small movement of his wrist and a light push of his arm, it swung open.

The Gryphons outside the room looked at Harry incredulously, all of them turning silent as they watched their captain walk inside the room. Draco and Remus looked at each other wide-eyed. Draco mouthed a silent question.

How? 

Harry reached a hand to the wall and flicked a switch. The room was illuminated with bright light. It was what Harry would have imagined to be James' room. The walls were painted a light blue, the ceilings white. Across the door was a large window looking out into the backyard with another reading nook built around it. There was a bookshelf which dominated the wall next to the door and Harry spied popular titles neatly arranged on the stacks. Amongst the books on the shelf were little knick knacks and picture frames. These photos were unharmed and laid perfectly underneath the glass. There was a younger James proudly displaying a painting which Harry had glimpsed in the downstairs gallery. There was another picture of him in a uniform, looking so smart and boyish in his maroon blazer, surrounded by friends dressed similarly. There was a grinning James at the park, wearing a jersey with his right foot atop a ball on the grass and surrounded by his team. A small trophy was placed next to this photograph. There was a photo taken outside the house as Harry saw the familiar backdrop complete with jack-o-lanterns. This picture held a mischievously grinning James while dressed as a brown mouse with absurdly large round ears. He was holding a basket shaped like a pumpkin. A taller female figure smiled next to him, head turned to the side as she looked fondly at the boy, and Harry could only assume she was Ms. Watson. She was dressed equally as silly as a grey cat with her dark wavy hair coloured silver, cat ears perched on her head, a feline mask covering her eyes, and long silver whiskers extending from her nose. 

Harry grimaced when he realized the picture was from Hallowe'en's past and he couldn't believe how differently this Hallowe'en had turned out.

He rounded the room, the still bewildered Gryphons tailing behind him. The wall perpendicular to the bookshelf and opposite the bed held a built-in wardrobe surrounding a small entertainment system. A television stood perched on one of the shelves and a stack of DVDs were arranged neatly underneath. A full-sized mirror was hung from one of the wardrobe's closed doors and Harry glimpsed his tired face as he passed. The wall next to the window held a framed football jersey proudly displaying Watson and the number 2. Framed medals and awards also hung on this little space and Harry felt pride filling his chest as he saw James' accomplishments. A guitar stood tall on its stand at the corner and faced the bed.

The bed was large and welcoming, covered in a bedding of mixed blues. It was neatly made and the pillows were perfectly fluffed. There was a stuffed football on the bed and Harry had to smile. James loved the sport and he was glad the boy had found another passion in Quidditch whilst he was away from the Muggle world.

As Harry passed the window on his way to the last corner of the room, he couldn't help but look up at the dark sky. A silent wish, almost a plea, left his mind and flew to the stars.

'Please,' he thought. 'Please let me keep my promise to him.'   

Theo's voice pierced the silence and said aloud what they had all observed. "This room is perfect. No spell was able to get through that door, not even the one which burned every other picture in this house."

Nova was already going through the bookcase, examining every title. Draco was looking through the wardrobe. Remus was behind Harry, looking out into the backyard through the large window and wondering aloud if the window had been protected by blood magic too. It must have been.

Harry saw a stack of books on the nightstand. His hand reached and carefully he picked them up, examining the titles on their spines. There was a blue hardcover book with The Golden Compass printed in a white serif script. A thin ribbon peaked from between the pages marking James' spot in the story. Two other books, A Lion, a Witch, and a Wardrobe and Murder on the Orient Express made up the triplicate of books in Harry's hands, all of them with bookmarks tucked between the pages.

Harry gave a wry smile. James was clearly an avid reader.

He looked to the nightstand. The books in his hands revealed a photograph which was hiding behind them.

The novels tumbled from his hands and onto the floor in a loud clatter which drew the attention of all the Gryphons in the room.

He felt as if the wind had been knocked from him. He abruptly took a step back and crashed into Remus.

"Harry!" Remus exclaimed. "What's wrong?"

Harry couldn't form any words. In fact, he couldn't even think. He numbly pointed to the table, to the one picture frame which held memories James held dear; to the photograph the boy had wanted to see the moment he woke up in the morning.

It held a face Harry thought he would never see again but would never ever forget.

Wavy brown hair which he had for years longed to touch.

A smile so radiant it warmed his soul.

And chocolate eyes which bore right through his heart.

It was Hermione.