Jamie waved the apology away. "I was coming to find you anyway. I can't sit here and do nothing." That was a worse punishment than watching his mother die. No, work was the best thing for him.
He glared at Alastor, as he went on, the words not even making sense for a moment, but when they did, he tensed, his teeth grinding. "Fucking son of a bitch!" Probably not what anyone would have expected, but he knew his father too well not to know that he'd just rushed out, probably into a trap, and hadn't he told him never to do that, that it would get you and others kill?
He'd been right. He had got himself killed and his own wife amongst other people.
"Jesus Christ, that's how we were compromised, isn't it?" He grabbed the paper, not because he didn't believe it, but because people always withheld details when talking to grieving families. He should know, because he did it all the times.
He rubbed his neck, trying to think and not look at the picture of his father. "Really, you needed confirmation? Dad, wouldn't stay in any pictures if he were alive. This is all the confirmation you need." He closed his eyes for a moment. "Okay, they are making this into a publicity stunt. We need to answer that. Fred and George have the spells ready, we can take over the WWN for a few minutes. We do it tonight, right after supper when most people are listening."
James reopened his eyes and stared at the two men. "One Potter is dead, they need another one, and that's what they'll get. I'll have a speech ready. Now what else needs to be done, besides organising the wakes and funerals."