"Could be," James nodded thoughtfully as Diana put forth her case. "Or some kind of smuggler, or an assassin - might even deal in information, and just isn't investigating us. I don't think he's got a job at the Ministry, sweet, we just can't know what sort of services he's selling. I think he's all right - but we've got to be careful. He wouldn't have to be for them to think about selling us out to save himself."
There was Peter, after all. Never once had he heard Peter say anything that suggested he agreed with the Death Eaters - but he had gone over to them all the same. Because Peter would never take a risk if he could get someone to take it for him. James didn't want to lose anyone else simply because they'd met someone who seemed all right.
But Aberforth's next question threw him. "I - he -" He drew a deep breath and rubbed at the back of his neck with the hand not gripping Diana's. Thinking about those last few days in any detail was hard: they'd still had hope, then. "We were talking about what we might do if - he - came, and I showed him the Invisibility Cloak. It's a family heirloom, and he said he wanted to examine it a bit. And then ..." And then Professor Dumbledore had never brought it back, and Lily and Harry had died.
In a way, he could sympathise with Aberforth's suspicions about Diana - he himself had just said they had to be careful of new people - but to him she wasn't new at all, and he was quite certain she was the only reason he was still alive; he would always be grateful for the days when her head had been cooler than his. He was quite certain that if they could just get away, things would be better. And, in another way, he was grateful for the change of subject: defending a friend was far easier than thinking about the past.
"Di'll be all right," he said quietly but firmly. "Give her any test you want - she could have let slip about me at any time, and she never has. It's being trapped with nothing to do that's the worst. It gets to everyone. Once or twice, I thought I'd go mad."