Who: James and Fabian What: talking. When: Tuesday. Where: Fab's place. Warnings: TBA Status: Incomplete
James hadn't really thought much about the future in a while. He'd gotten caught up in everything that was happening with Lily, even after his first encounter with a man he was now almost entirely certain was a Death Eater, a man that would be waiting for him if he went back to Hogwarts. And yesterday, yesterday had been about Dumbledore. He had been thinking about the past, then - thinking about the conversations he'd had with the Headmaster, about his death.
Then, this morning, it had really sunk in. The world was without Dumbledore, and Hogwarts was no longer a safe place for people who still believed in him. The world wasn't safe, in general. James had the sudden urge to take everyone he cared about and hide them away somewhere, to keep their heads down and keep them safe. He and Sirius and Remus and Peter, at least, could benefit from some semblance of anonymity, though he suspected that there had been someone (or multiple someones) watching those who had attended Dumbledore's memorial. Merlin, was nothing sacred to these people?
And then there was Lily, who had already gone and angered someone who might very well want her dead, who wouldn't be returning to school in the fall. She could be of more use outside of Hogwarts, she'd said. James didn't know what to make of that. He wanted to be useful, too - he knew that his momentary dream of keeping everyone in hiding was just that, a momentary dream. If people like him, who believed enough to resist, who had the skills to do so, simply ran away from the fight, then there would be no safe future for anyone at all. It wasn't in him to hide, anyway - that was just the fear talking.
But he didn't let fear rule him. He just needed a plan, needed to find his path for the future, to conquer his fears with his goals and his intentions. He just didn't know how.
He could talk to his friends, but he wasn't sure he should. There was no need to worry them unnecessarily, to put them in the state he was in. No, he should get his wits together and have a plan to present to them before they had that kind of discussion. His parents were useless; they'd tried to comfort him about Dumbledore, but they hadn't known him. They just wanted to enjoy their retirement, their golden years, without strife, and James wanted that for them, too. Besides, if he started out on some kind of renegade path, it was probably better for them not to know, not to worry about him, to protect them.
He had to talk to someone, though. Who had he gone to for advice, before Dumbledore? He considered going to Dumbledore's grave, but that was no help; the stone couldn't respond, couldn't give him advice. Then he remembered someone he had seen at the memorial, someone that he hadn't talked to in ages, but had once trusted and admired. It was worth a shot, at least.
He hadn't even gotten out of bed and dressed before deciding this, but the decision got him up, gave him a purpose for getting ready for the day when he'd had no particular plans before. When he had eaten, he headed for the fireplace, and stepped into it. He stepped out into Fabian Prewett's home, and dusted himself off, belatedly realizing that the man he thought of as an uncle figure wasn't on summer vacation, might not even be around. Still, even being here made him grin a little, so it wasn't much loss, even if the place was empty. Looking around, he called out, "Uncle Fabulous? You around?"