Summer 1969
He saw her for the first time when he was nine. To be precise, he was nine years, three months, and sixteen days old on the day that he squeezed through the gap in the garden fence and ran away to the fields to explore. He wasn’t running away from home �“ not really. He had nothing to fear from his parents, who loved him dearly, but adoration could be cloying especially to a boy like James Potter.

He wanted an adventure, but his mum, scared that he’d produce magic in front of Muggles, never let him out of the garden unaccompanied. Today, though, she was busy entertaining an old friend from school. Betty Abbot had brought her eleven-year-old grandson to play with James, but James had taken one look at the fair-haired, thin-faced boy, who’d glanced scornfully at James’ scabbed knees, directed him to his dad’s library and had run out of the back door.

James ran as fast as he could across the wheat field at the back of the house, loving the feeling of freedom as the corn stalks whipped his arms and legs. He was still laughing as he emerged from the field and ran up a hillock to an old tree, its branches hanging forlornly to the ground.

And then he saw her.

She wasn’t alone, but surrounded by a group of boys, all older than James, and by the look of it, her as well. They were also laughing, but not joyfully. The four boys were mocking her, pulling at her clothes and tugging her black hair. One boy reached down to the ground and picked up a handful of dust, which he rubbed in her hair, laughing as she protested. James frowned, for hadn’t his dad told him only last week that Gryffindors were always chivalrous and the ‘mistreatment of a lady is something we will not tolerate’?

James wanted to be a Gryffindor. He wanted it very badly and would settle for no other house (especially not Slytherin), so with his dad’s words running through his mind, he ran hell for leather down the slope and launched himself into the boy who’d thrown the dirt. They fell to the ground in a confused heap as James flailed his fists around in an attempt to hit his enemy (for this boy was definitely his enemy now).

He was not good at fighting. He found that out quick enough when the boy punched him back, and then elbowed him in the face. James yelled, more in anger than pain, but the boy didn’t back off. He laughed.

“What is this we have here?” he asked his friends, as he picked James up by his collar.

“It’s that Potter kid. The one with the weirdo parents.”

“Oh, yeah.” The bigger boy smirked. “The old biddy who wears the stupid hats, and the bloke that wears a dress.”

James licked his lip, tasting blood, and swallowed. He had a feeling in his bones that this was not going to end well. He could feel a hot rage burning inside him as they all started laughing. If they pushed him anymore, it would end very badly indeed.

“It’s not a dress,” he muttered darkly. “My dad wears robes.”

“Robes!” scorned the biggest boy. “Oh, la-di-dah, what is he, then? The bleeding King of Persia?” He lifted James higher in the air, still laughing. “Does that make you a sodding prince? Where’s your crown?”

“He can wear this, Del,” yelled one of the other boys. Out of the corner of his eye, James saw him poking a long stick into the tree, dislodging a bird’s nest.

Del threw him to the ground and instructed two of his friends to hold a now kicking and squirming James against the tree trunk. He took the bird’s nest and rammed it on James’ head. The needle-sharp twigs on the outside scratched at James’ face. He looked around, trying to will the fury building inside him to die down, trying to think of the best way out of this without losing his temper. The girl had gone, no doubt glad to be free of her tormentors, so it was just him and these four boys now. Perhaps it wouldn’t matter if he did something. Perhaps this was a life and death situation. Perhaps he wouldn’t get sent to Azkaban, or have the trolls chasing him, if he did some underage magic.

It was when one of the boys spat in his face that James lost his temper. Unable to wipe the spittle from his cheek, he opened his eyes and glared. Before he knew it, he’d opened his mouth and roared at Del. “Get off me!” he yelled, his voice louder than thunder.

Del flew backwards, as if he’d been hexed, and landed on the ground. Looking embarrassed but also furious, he ran towards James. This time James was ready. With his hands in front of him, he braced himself for Del’s attack, knowing that he could repel him again. He began to smile, ready for the onslaught of fists, but as he stared at Del, something got between them. A large branch swung to the side and pushed Del away from James. He looked to the side and saw the girl wielding it.

“Get off him!” she screamed, and hit Del in the face. She turned to the others. “Go away and leave him alone. Leave me alone, too, or I’ll whack you with this!”

The gang eyed both James and the girl warily then stepped back.

“I’m bored with this anyway,” Del muttered. “Stupid Paki and her oddball boyfriend.”

James watched them go, walking quickly away from the pair of them. Then, when they were out of sight, he turned to the girl. “Are you all right?” he muttered.

She nodded and some of the dust fell out of her dark, black hair. “I’m used to it ... but thanks.”

James frowned. “Used to it? What do you mean ... and what did they mean by that word ‘Paki’? Is that your name?”

She smiled a lopsided sort of smile then sat down on the ground opposite him. “It’s short for Pakistani.” She sighed. “I’m not a Paki. My dad’s English and my mum was from India. But to Del and his gang that doesn’t matter.” She looked up at him through long black lashes. “It’s my skin, dummy. I’m not white, am I?”

“They were picking on you because you have a different colour skin?” James asked, completely confused now. “That doesn’t make sense.”

She shrugged. “Does to Del. I’m Dita, by the way,” she said, holding out her hand.

He shook it. “James Potter,” he replied.

“Yeah, I know,” she said, and grinned at him. “All the village kids know about your family.”

“What, that we’re a bunch of weirdos, I suppose?” James asked defensively.

She put her head on one side and considered his question. “Some people say that, but I think your dad is very kind. He’s always smiling, and once he gave me a sweet.” She lowered her voice. “I’m not supposed to take sweets from strangers --Dad would kill me -- but it wasn’t poisoned.” She smiled at James again, and looking at her, he found it impossible to stay angry. “I’ve not seen you out by yourself before.”

“My mum’s got an old friend from Hog �“ uh �“ school visiting, and she brought her really boring grandson along, so I thought I’d escape for a bit.” He stared back at the wheat field. “I expect I’ll get into trouble; perhaps I should go back.”

“Well, you could,” said Dita slowly, “but if you’re in trouble anyway ...”

“You mean that I might as well stay out and have some fun?”

She nodded, then, leaning forward, she reached out her hand and plucked the bird’s nest off his head. She examined it closely. “I think it’s an old one; at least there weren’t any rotten eggs in it.”

James ruffled his hair, pulling out some stray twigs and feathers. “Probably tidier wearing it,” he said. He stood up and held out his hand to her. “Will you show me the best places to explore, Dita?”

“Sure,” she replied, accepting his hand.

***

About two hours later, when James was begrimed with dry dirt, his hair stuck with more leaves, and a gash on his elbow, he wandered back across the field still chatting to Dita. She laughed a lot, could run as fast as he could, and was an expert in all the best places to hide in the nearby woods. He’d climbed trees, waded through streams, and rolled down hills with her, delighting in each new adventure.

At the gap in his fence, he stopped. “I s’pose I better I’d better go,” he said and sighed wistfully. “I’ve had so much fun.”

“I can see you tomorrow,” Dita said. “I’ll be by that tree again ... or maybe in the tree, if Del and the others turn up.”

James pulled a face and scuffed his already well-scuffed shoes on the ground. “Not sure I’ll be allowed. My mum’s quite strict about that stuff. You’re lucky your mum lets you out alone.”

Dita said nothing, but reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out a photograph. “That’s my mum,” she murmured. “She’s dead.”

James stared intently at the photograph of a beautiful lady with long black hair and shining dark eyes. She was cradling a baby in her arms.

“That’s me,” Dita replied to his unspoken question. “Mum died when I was three. It’s just me and Dad now.”

James looked again, puzzled by the lady frozen in the picture. He was about to ask why she didn’t move, but a voice interrupted him.

“James Hereward Potter!” exclaimed his mum. She was standing by the garden gate, just to the right of the gap he’d squeezed through earlier.“I’ve been worried sick about you. Where have you been?”

“Hi Mum,” James squeaked. He gulped and took Dita’s hand. “I ... um ... went out exploring. This is Dita. She’s ... uh ... from the village.”

His mum pursed her lips, and James smiled to himself. There was no way she’d tell him off in front of a Muggle.

“Can James come and play tomorrow, Mrs Potter?” Dita asked sweetly.

“Please, Mum,” James implored.

“You left Lancelot all by himself in your father’s study. That wasn’t a nice thing to do, James,” his mum reproved, ignoring both their pleas. “And look at the state you’re in! I want you back in that house and in the bath immediately.”

“Mu-u-um!”James whined.

“Bath NOW!” she ordered in a stern voice that James was not accustomed to. Then turning to Dita, she said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for James to see you, dear. Perhaps you should find some other friends.”

James saw Dita take a step back and lower her eyes to the floor. “Sorry,” she mumbled. Not looking up, she started to walk away. “Bye, James.”

Evading his mother’s outstretched hand, James ran to Dita, and pulled on her arm. “I’ll try and sneak out tomorrow,” he whispered. “Wait for me by the tree.”

“It doesn’t matter,” mumbled Dita, staring at the ground. “I told you I’m used to it.”

“Wha..? Oh, no. NO!” James yelped, suddenly understanding. “Mum’s not like that. It’s something else.”

Dita squeezed his hand; he looked at her face and saw a tear glistening on one of her lower lashes. “I had fun today,” she whispered and then, wrenching her arm from him, she turned to his mum. “I’m sorry, Mrs Potter!”

Dita broke into a run and darted through the field. He could see her trail as the corn ears swayed as she passed them. He wanted to follow her, but his mother’s hand plucked him to her.

“Inside,” said his mother, but she didn’t sound quite so angry now, and he thought he could hear a quaver in her voice.

He didn’t look at her, but stomped across the lawn, taking out his temper on a particularly ugly gnome that had ventured into the flower beds. “I didn’t do any magic, mum,” he yelled. “She doesn’t know anything about us, apart from the fact that we’re weirdos! But she let me play with her anyway!”

He had his bath, noisily complaining even though his mum didn’t scrub his knees as hard as she usually did, and escaped to his bedroom. At least boring Lancelot and his even more boring grandma had gone. He wouldn’t be expected to play with him again.

His mum left him in peace, calling up the stairs only once in a conciliatory manner that his tea would be ready in half an hour, but James didn’t reply. He was determined not to eat anything. He’d stay in his room until she gave in and let him out with Dita again. Yes, he’d stay here and not eat. That would worry her! He scowled at his reflection in the mirror, sucking in his cheeks as he imagined himself getting thinner and thinner. The thought made him hungry, and when the smell of treacle tart began to waft into his room, he gave in. Perhaps he’d just have one last meal. Eat a lot tonight and then refuse breakfast until she caved in.

His dad was sitting at the table when he approached the kitchen, deep in conversation with his mum. James didn’t enter, but hid behind the door, eves-dropping.

“So, our boy had quite an adventure today.”

“Don’t you dare encourage him, Hereward,” rapped his mum sharply. “He was out for at least three hours, and I was worried sick. He could have been anywhere.”

“Halley, my dear, you could have found him easily enough. In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t search for him.”

“I was searching for him,” she replied grimly. Halley walked to the table carrying two plates piled with food and set them onto the table. “As soon as I knew he’d gone, I started searching.”

“When did you realise he’d absconded?” Hereward asked mildly.

There was a small silence of a few seconds before Halley said anything. “Well, it was when Betty decided it was time to leave, actually. We found Lancelot in your study reading a book. He said James had run off.”

“And this Lancelot didn’t sound upset or anything?”

James heard his mother sigh and smiled to himself. “No,” she admitted. “Lancelot was perfectly happy by himself. He’s nothing like our boy. It was a mistake to invite him over, but I thought if James had someone of his own age to play with ...”

“He does though,” James heard his dad say. “The girl he introduced to you.”

“She’s a Muggle!” Halley declared.

“So, what’s wrong with that?” James asked suddenly as he emerged from his hiding place. “I thought you liked Muggles.”

Halley spun around. Her face was flushed, but she looked him directly in the eyes. “I do like Muggles, but until you can control yourself, I don’t think it’s wise for you to be with them.”

James glared at her. “You just don’t want me to have any friends, except boring ones like what’s his name �“ Prancealot. All he wanted to do was read a stupid book.” He turned to his dad, hoping for a fairer hearing. “This girl, Dita, she was being picked on by some older boys, so I saved her, like any Gryffindor would do. Then when they started on me,” he pointed to his eye which was now turning black, “she beat them off with a tree branch. I didn’t do any magic.”

“Really?” His dad’s raised eyebrow told James he didn’t quite believe him.

“Well, I sort of made one of the boys fall over, but I made it look as if I’d done it with my hands. They were a lot bigger than me, Dad.”

His dad smiled benignly, and at that moment James realised it would be all right.

“Well, Halley, I will of course leave it to your discretion,” Hereward began, “but it does seem to me that our boy is starting to take control at last, and you can’t keep him Spellotaped to you forever.”

“Mum?” pleaded James quietly.

Halley Potter pursed her lips. “We’ll see,” she replied.

***

“Dita!” called James. “Are you here?”

It was the next day, and after a long talk with both his parents, as well as desperate assurances on his part that he wouldn’t use any magic, his mum had relented and said he could see the girl again. He chuckled to himself. Telling his mum that Dita thought she disliked her because her skin was brown had certainly helped. Horrified, Halley had instructed their house-elf Sukey to make some cakes and, after kissing James on the cheek, had waved him goodbye as he scampered across the field and to their tree.

But Dita wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He sat down on the dusty scrub of grass and waited, hoping that she’d turn up, and they could start exploring together. It was another warm day, and he could hear the lazy buzzing of a fat bumblebee as it hovered around some wild flowers growing by the side of the field. James lay on his stomach and watched for a while as it crawled into a foxglove.

“You snuck out then,” she said. James looked around but couldn’t see her. Then he felt something on his head and looked up. Dita was sitting on one of the tree branches, her bare legs hanging down.

He grinned broadly. “I didn’t need to. My mum said I could come, and she even gave me two cakes,” he replied as he reached into his small knapsack. He held up his mum’s peace offering to her. Dita smiled back and jumped down from the tree, landing, not ungracefully, next to him. She nibbled at the cake, laughing as the butter icing stuck to her nose.

***

“Why don’t you go to school?” Dita asked him one day. They were sitting by the river, just where it meandered around a tree on the edge of the woodland. James had stripped down to his shorts and was dangling his bare feet in the water. They had spent nearly every day of the summer together, but the holidays for Dita were coming to an end. She’d told James that she liked school �“ or rather she liked the lessons, but didn’t have any real friends.

“Mum teaches me at home,” James replied carefully. “But when I’m eleven, I’ll be going to this really cool school where I’ll learn all sorts of things.”

“What school?” she asked, and then her face lit up. “That would be really great if it was the same one as me.”

James looked away from her, concentrating on the water as it babbled over his feet. “It’s a long way from here,” he muttered. “I’ll be living there.”

“Oh.” The one word dropped like a stone in the water as she took in his words. “And you want to go there?”

“Yeah,” James replied as his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “I’ll meet loads of kids just like me, and both my parents have told me how much fun I’ll have there. I won’t be allowed to take my broom, but I will be getting my own wand and every �“ ” He broke off, panicked at what he’d just said, hoping she hadn’t understood.

Dita stared at him. “Did you just say ‘wand’?” She laughed. “And ‘broom’? Why do you need a broom?”

“Uh ... no reason. I was joking ... it’s nothing ...” James was stuttering now, horrified that he’d said far too much and that she’d worked it out. It struck him suddenly that he wasn’t bothered if she knew, but was worried his parents would stop him playing with her in case she told everyone else in the village.

“So why say it?” she asked curiously. She’d stopped laughing now and had moved closer until her hand clenched on his arm.

“Joke,” he muttered thickly.

“In the village,” she said slowly, her eyes never leaving his face, “they say that your mum is a witch.” She paused, and James felt his stomach plummet. “I asked my dad about it.”

“What did your dad say?”

“He said she’d rescued a girl from a fire years ago, when he was still a kid. No one knew how, but the flames died down when she ran in, and then flared back when she got out.”

James closed his eyes. His dad had told him the story. It was his mum’s weakness. She wanted to help all the time and could never see the harm in using a bit of magic every now and then. The Ministry had called on them, and only Hereward Potter’s ability to pay the fine and his assurances that they would not perform magic in front of Muggles again had ensured she’d escaped with only a warning. The Ministry had modified the Muggles’ memories, but they must have missed some people if the story was still floating around.

“Is it true?” she persisted.

James looked into her eyes, the velvety soft dark satin eyes that held his gaze. They were not scared or contemptuous. They were curious, but also kind.

“Yeah,” he mumbled.

“Are you one as well?”

Bringing his knees up to his chest, he nodded. “You don’t seem to be surprised or scared or anything I thought you’d be,” he said.

Dita smiled. “I saw you take on Del, remember. I thought he was going to kill you, but you shoved him away without touching him. And you’ve been jumping down from trees without hurting yourself. Sometimes you seem to sort of float in the air.” She linked her arm into his. “Can you do anything else?”

“Little things,” he said proudly.

“Can you make a white rabbit appear out of a hat?”

“No, why would I want to do that?”

Dita shrugged. “I dunno, it’s what the magicians do on the telly. As well as pulling handkerchiefs out of their sleeves. Brightly coloured ones all knotted together.”

James snorted. “Muggle tricks!”

“What’s a Muggle?”

James sighed, but was happy. This was going to take forever, but it was still summer and the days were long. He had all the time in the world.

***

Christmas 1971
“So, anyway, I met this boy on my first day there. Well, in the train carriage, actually, and he’s really cool. His name’s Sirius Black, and we were friends straight away. He’s amazing and so funny. His family are horrible, though. When he was Sorted - that’s when you’re placed in a House �“ his mum sent him a Howler.”

“What’s a Howler?” Dita asked.

They were sitting in her front room, poking the glowing embers of a dying fire with sticks. Dita had stuck some marshmallows onto skewers and was trying to toast them, but they kept falling off. James wondered why she was bothering as there were no flames left and it was clear the fire was dying. He felt guilty. He should have been there an hour ago, but he’d been delayed when an owl from Sirius had arrived, begging that he save him from Grimmauld Place. So caught up with persuading his mum to let Sirius visit, James had forgotten Dita’s invitation.

“It’s a letter that shouts at you.” He shuddered. “It’s quite scary, actually. Well, Mrs Black’s was, but she’s a seriously nasty person. She wouldn’t send him any sweets or write to him for a month when he was put in Gryffindor.”

“Can’t you just tear it up or something?”

James laughed. “No, it follows you until it’s shouted enough and then disappears.” He picked up a skewer and picked off the browned marshmallow. It was gooey inside and tasted surprisingly good. “Hogwarts is fantastic, Dita. I wish you could visit.”

“It sounds great,” she said quietly. “My school is good, you know.”

“Oh ... yeah ...” James placed the skewer in the bucket by the fireside. He’d forgotten she’d gone to a new school. She’d sent him a letter, which his mum had kindly sent with the Potter owl, but he couldn’t really remember much about it. “Have you made any friends?”

“Mmm, one or two,” she replied. “It’s a girl’s school in the next town, not many of the village kids got in, and it’s much bigger. I’m top of my class in English.”

“Huh? Oh, books and stuff.” He smiled at her and then punched her softly on the arm. “Knew you’d do well. Wow, if you were magic, I bet you’d be a Ravenclaw.”

“Why?”

“They’re very intelligent,” James replied. He smiled slightly. “Sirius reckons they’re all very boring as well.”

“Wow, thanks, James,” she replied, a touch waspishly.

“I didn’t mean you!” he exclaimed, aghast at his tactlessness. “And Sirius won’t think you’re boring either. He’s coming to stay next week. Can I bring him over?”

“Why would he want to meet me?” she asked sulkily. “I’m just a boring Muggle who reads equally boring books.”

“Sirius doesn’t know any Muggles at all, and he’s fascinated. He might want to talk to your dad about cars, though. Is that all right?”

Dita shrugged. “Sure, bring him over. But we don’t have a car anymore.” She grinned wickedly. “Dad sold it and got a motorbike. It’s fab when he takes me to school. Suddenly, I’ve become the coolest girl in class.”

James laughed and picked up some more marshmallows to stick on skewers. The fire was nearly out. A simple Incendio charm would soon have it flickering into life. “If I had my wand,” he said, looking at the dying flames. “I could relight that.”

Dita knelt in front of the fire. Piling some scrunched-up balls of paper on top of the coals, she bent her head. James watched in fascination as she carefully blew on the embers until the flames began to lick up the paper. In the firelight, her skin was the colour of golden treacle. Her black glossy hair, now halfway down her back, was tied back in a thick plait. She’d changed, he thought. She looked older now than he did, and he felt a pang of regret that she wasn’t magical, too. For despite his new friends, he had missed her and hated the fact that they were separated during term time. It had felt awkward, reconnecting, trying to get things back to the way they were. It was a ball game, as complex as Quidditch, juggling his two lives. Yet now, by the soft glow of the hearth, he was pleased he was here.

“You don’t need magic for everything, James,” she whispered.

August 1976

Dita lay by their tree and waited. She knew James would be here. Although he was often late, he always turned up in the end, and she didn’t mind enjoying the sun by herself. It wasn’t as if they met every day in the summer now �“ just sometimes they’d make plans. Days when she wasn’t with her friends, or he wasn’t with his. Lazy do-nothing days when they’d sit and talk or sometimes say nothing at all. Days when they’d still share Sukey’s delicious cakes.

His mum and dad knew she knew about them. James’ dad didn’t seem at all surprised and welcomed her into their home, treating her like an oddity to be cherished. His mum liked her, Dita knew that, but sometimes she caught a worried look on Mrs Potter’s face and wondered about that. She had broached the subject with James, asking if his mum disapproved of her. He’d answered non-committaly, but had said that it wasn’t disapproval.

She stretched out on the scorched grass and closed her eyes, allowing her thoughts to drift dangerously to James. She was curious about him again. Not the magic. She knew all about the magic, and apart from a faint twinge of regret that she was unable to share that side of his life, she didn’t long for his world �“ she was happy where she was. No, it wasn’t the magic she was curious about �“ it was him as a boy. They were both sixteen, after all, and she knew other boys noticed her when she walked down the street. Would James though? Or did he only think of her as a friend?

Last summer, when she’d been fresh from a breakup with a local boy from the garage, she’d sobbed on his shoulder. James had been embarrassed, but had offered to go round and hex the offender. That had made her smile and then sniff. Poor Gary; she barely thought of him now, but when she was fifteen, it had hurt so much being dumped because she wouldn’t go ‘all the way’. Well, Gary was now in a one- bedroom flat in a high rise with his young heavily pregnant wife �“ a far better revenge than anything James could have done to him.

To distract her, James had talked about school, mentioning a girl in his house, Lily Evans. This girl was, according to James, the most irritating girl in the world.

“She thinks she’s better than us, really she does, Dit. Just because we have a bit of fun. Such a goody-goody. Can’t stand her!”

“Sounds to me, James Potter, as if you quite like her.”

“No. I can’t stand her!”

“You keep talking about her, though. Perhaps you should ask her out.”

“Huh? No way! Girls are ... I dunno ... complicated. I don’t need that.”

“I’m a girl.”

“Mmm, but you’re my mate. It’s easy with you. Look, I really don’t mind hexing this Gary bloke.”

“Nah, it’s cool. I wouldn’t want you getting into trouble.”

When he’d returned to Hogwarts, James had sent her some letters and told her he had tried asking out Evans, but she’d turned him down. Dita laughed as she remembered the outrage that emanated from his first letter, unable to believe that this girl wouldn’t go out with him. He still, he maintained in his letter, didn’t like Lily Evans at all, but Dita knew the girl’s refusal would niggle at him.

She opened her eyes and sighed. Perhaps it was foolish of her to hope for more from him, especially if he was after the girl from school. James and she were friends; anything else could be messy.

“Wow, Dita, you have changed!”

Dita jerked her head round and then quickly tugged down her cheesecloth shirt as stared up to see four boys standing above her. The boy who’d spoken, she’d met a few years before. He was smiling lazily and, to her gratification, rather appreciatively at her.

“Hello, Sirius. Didn’t think you’d be here,” she answered. Standing up, she walked across to the group, gave James a hug, Sirius a punch on the arm, and then waited for James to introduce the two other boys.

She swallowed the disappointment that James wasn’t here alone because in truth it didn’t matter that much. Sirius made her laugh, and James’ new friends seemed cool as well. They sat in the shade, and whilst James unpacked a huge picnic basket , Dita listened to their light-hearted banter and relaxed. They made her feel welcome, being careful not to exclude her too much from their talk about school. Sirius was anxious as ever to talk about Muggle things; his fascination had not decreased over the years. Peter, who was sitting next to him, smaller and slightly plump, asked some questions too, mainly about cars, echoing Sirius’ interest.

“Uh, I don’t know, guys. I can’t drive yet. All I know is that my dad turns it on with a key, presses the pedal with his foot, and we drive off.”

“I thought your dad had a motorbike!” Sirius said, looking puzzled.

“Nah, he sold it,” she replied. “We’re back to having a car again.”

“You’re not the coolest girl in school anymore then, Dit,” James stated.

She turned her head and stared at him. He had a slight grin on his face, almost mocking, but there was something in his eyes that negated the mockery.

“I’m not at school, full stop, James,” she replied, looking only at him. He frowned so she explained. “Dad’s moved me to a private college for the next two years. I need good A’levels for university.”

“What are you going to study?” the boy called Remus asked.

“English at Oxford, I hope.”

Remus nodded; he didn’t look puzzled like the others, and she remarked upon that.

“My mum’s a Muggle,” he replied simply. “I have more of an insight than these two.” He gestured to Sirius and Peter. “But James obviously knows a lot from you.”

“Is that good, being a part of two worlds?”

Remus didn’t answer immediately. It was as if he were struggling to think of the right thing to say. “I’m not a part of the Muggle world. My mum left it behind years ago.”

“When she married your dad?” Dita asked.

“No, a few years later, when I was six,” he replied.

She wanted to ask why, or whether it was a requirement for a Muggle to give up their world, much as her mum had given up her home country when she’d got married, but Remus’ face was closed now, and she didn’t dare press him. It was strange, for he seemed the kindest of James’ friends: he wasn’t sarcastic like Sirius, or irritating like Peter, and yet there was something distant about him, something essentially private that she didn’t think he’d ever share with her.

“I’m between two worlds, you know,” she said in an attempt to bridge the awkward silence that had descended on the group. “Or countries really ... cultures too,” she continued, now babbling. She caught James’ eye, and he smiled gratefully.

“Go on,” Remus said, sounding interested.

“My mum was from India. Her family are still there, but she moved to England when she married my dad. I don’t know them at all. I mean, I was born here, brought up here, and I’m British, but ...” she sighed wistfully “... there’s a part of me that wants to discover that life, discover the missing half.” She sniffed and poked around in her back pocket for a handkerchief. “Does that make sense?”

“It does to me,” Remus replied, and smiled warmly at her. “So what’s stopping you, then?”

“My education, I s’pose. That’s important.” She grinned at Remus. “I can’t wave a wand and make my essays write themselves, you know.”

“Oi!” declared James, holding up his hand. “I had a seriously bad blister on my fingers after writing a History of Magic essay. We have to do some work you know! Quills take a much longer time than those biro things you use.”

“Take some back with you, James,” she said, and stretched out on the grass again listening to their voices wave across her, enjoying their company and this feeling of belonging even though she was an outsider.

“Maybe you could write to your Indian family,” Remus mused. “For all you know, they could be wondering about you, too.”

After a while, when they’d all made steady inroads into the large quantities of food Mrs Potter had provided, even Sirius got bored with questioning her about Muggle television and suggested they walk to the river.

“It’s hot, and I want a swim,” he said decisively. He held his hand out to Dita and pulled her up. “Come on, you’ll join me, won’t you?”

“I don’t have a costume,” she said. “Perhaps I’ll just watch from the side.”

“Pfft, you don’t need a costume,” Sirius said and smirked.

She giggled at his suggestion, but shook her head and then carefully removed her hand from his. Sirius smiled again at her, but allowed her to pull away from him.

“Leave her alone,” muttered James grumpily as he sidled up to them both. “We could go back and get your costume if you want.”

“I’m happy sitting on the bank watching,” she insisted. She knew James wouldn’t swim for long. He didn’t like the water much and once he’d shown willing in front of his friends, he’d join her and they could talk. He was close to her now, and his hand gently brushed against hers, so she touched him lightly with her fingertips. Soon they were holding hands as they walked away from Sirius and towards the river.

“What happened to that girl? Lily Whatsit?” she asked, trying to sound casual, but feeling her heart thump into her throat as she waited for him to reply.

“She turned me down ... again,” he said ruefully. “Said I was ‘an arrogant toe-rag’, or something. Can’t be bothered anymore. Think I’ll give up.” Then he grinned at her, a wicked grin that lit up his eyes. “I only kept asking her ‘cause I knew it would annoy this other boy at school.”

She laughed, relieved that this girl hadn’t made too much of an impression on him. His hand holding hers felt warm, comforting, and they seemed to fit. She wondered what it would feel like if he wound his arm around her waist, his fingertips gently touching the bare skin of her stomach where the hem of her shirt didn’t quite meet the waistband of her shorts. But James kept his hand in hers and didn’t bring her any closer to him.

Dita could hear the others behind them. Peter and Remus were arguing with Sirius, who was making no attempt to help with the basket. He laughed as he bound up to James and Dita.

“What are you talking about?”

James rolled his eyes at Sirius. “Nothing that you need to know about, mate.”

Dita laughed. “James was telling me all about Lily and how he was asking her out to annoy someone else. Don’t tell me it was you, Sirius.”

Sirius laughed suddenly, loudly and ruffled James’ hair. “Not me. I’m guessing he’s talking about Snivelly.” He grabbed Dita’s other hand and this time refused to let her pull away. “Snivellus Snape is a boy in Slytherin. He’s so greasy he slides into the hall. Seems to think he has a chance with Evans ‘cause he’s always staring at her or trying to talk to her.”

“Perhaps she likes him,” Dita said quietly. “Looks aren’t everything, Sirius.”

“She likes him a lot less now,” retorted Sirius and started to roar with laughter. “James hoisted him up by his ankle and then washed his mouth out with soap. Bloody funny seeing his dirty grey pants on display.”

“Yeah, shame we were interrupted,” James said and turned to Dita. “I was about to remove his pants, but one of the professors turned up and slapped me straight in detention. Shame, cause everyone wanted to see the slimeball’s nads. Would have been the best prank ever.”

“Did he fight back?” she asked.

James shrugged. “He tried, and he got me with a hex on my cheek.”

“He had no chance!” agreed Sirius, grinning broadly. “Honestly, what was he going to do? There was him against James and me. Plus we surprised him.”

Dita removed her hands from both of them and stopped walking. Puzzled, James stopped too. “What’s up?”

“You picked a fight with someone �“ probably ‘cause you were jealous that this Lily liked him.”

“No, I hexed him because he’s a git!” James argued. “I don’t know what you’re getting so riled about. You weren’t there; you don’t know what he’s like.”

“I know what it’s like to be picked on for no good reason,” she yelled, the anger bubbling inside her. “You know who you sound like, James?”

“Who?” he asked, shaking his head in bemusement. He was smirking, and she was aware that Sirius was pulling faces behind her back. The pent-up anger from all those years erupted in a white-hot fury.

“Del!” she shouted. “Remember him and his gang? They picked on me because I was ‘coloured’. They wanted to beat you up because of your ‘wierdo parents’. That’s what you’ve become, James. A bully and a thug.”

“Now, wait a minute,” he protested. “You don’t know what Snape’s like.”

“I don’t need to. I thought I knew what you were like. You’re always banging on about your school and your wonderful house. Gryffindor �“ home of the brave and the chivalrous. Seems to me you’d have been better in that other house ... what is it? Slytherin?” James didn’t answer, but as his face blanched she knew she’d hit home. Behind her, she could sense that Sirius was still laughing.

“You need to grow up,” Dita said, breathing deep. “That Lily Evans has a point. You are arrogant. And I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

She stepped back, then feeling a tidal wave of tears threaten to flood her eyes, she turned away and broke into a run. James called after her, sounding desperate, but she was too upset to turn back.

***

31st August 1976

“Dita, please talk to me,” James entreated from her back garden. “Come on, I’ve said I’m sorry.”

Dita looked up from the bed. It was no good: she’d been reading the same page, same bloody line over and over. She’d already told him to go away and had closed her curtains on him, but he was still there ... and Good God, he’d been there for nearly an hour.

Grinding her teeth, she stepped towards the window. She’d shout at him again and then go downstairs.

“Hi,” said a face staring directly at her through the window pane.

“What... How...Jesus, James, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m flying, Dit. This is my broomstick.”

“But you’re not allowed to do magic out of school, are you?”

“You gonna tell on me?” he asked, and although he was grinning at her, there was a faint note of apprehension in his question. “Can I come in?”

“Uh...” Dita bit her lip. Her dad was downstairs and would not be happy to find James in her bedroom. But then again ... what he didn’t know ... She opened the window wider, and James stopped hovering on his broomstick and clambered onto the sill.

James looked around the room. He hadn’t been here for years, not since they were thirteen, when her dad had decided it was no longer ‘appropriate’ for his daughter to have a boy in her bedroom. At the time, James couldn’t work out what the fuss was about, but now, here in her room, he understood. He’d been trying to speak to her for two weeks now, but she’d avoided him or yelled more. In the end, Sirius had told him to stop moping and just demand to speak to her. He’d taken Sirius’ advice, little thinking he’d end up here.

Was her bed always that big? he wondered. It seemed to dominate the room. He felt awkward sitting on it, especially as he could see a silky pyjama top peeping out from under the pillow. He sat, instead, on a small chair by her dressing table and studied the posters on her wall.

“You want to talk,” she stated.

James shook his head. “Uh, yeah. Look, I want to say sorry and also explain things to you.”

“It’s not me you should apologise to,” she replied.

“I am not saying sorry to Snape,” James said savagely. “He deserves everything he gets.” He stared at her mutinously. “We went about it the wrong way, I admit that, but he’s evil, Dit.”

She laughed. “Don’t be so melodramatic. No one’s really evil.”

James raised his eyebrows quizzically. “What about Del and his mates? They picked on you cause you were different, Dit. And you told me the last time you saw him, he was in some group, still beating people up.”

She held his gaze and nodded slowly. “Yeah, he joined the National Front. He goes on demos and things, saying that people like me should be sent back to where we came from.” She ran her fingers through her hair, as if she didn’t want to think about Del. “You said that sort of thing didn’t happen in your world.”

“It doesn’t,” he agreed. “But there are some wizards and witches who think pure blood is the only thing that matters.”

“Pure blood?” Dita sat forwards on the bed, so he started to tell her about the differences in the magic world and certain wizards’ theories about supremacy and the victimisation of Muggle-borns.

“Lily Evans is a Muggle-born,” he said softly. “She’s got more magic in her than so many of the pure-bloods at our school, but to them she’s a ‘Mudblood’ �“ that’s dirty blood, Dit. Their prejudice is wrong. Every bit as wrong as what Del and his lot do to people like you.”

“You’re a pure-blood, aren’t you?”

“Mmm, and Sirius, but we know what’s right. It’s why Sirius left home. He can’t bear his family any longer, so he’s living with us.” He took a breath, looked around the room again, seeming to take solace in its very ordinariness. “I want things straight between us before I go back to school,” he said at last. “We’ll be okay, won’t we?”

“Yes,” she said, but she looked at him with sadness in her eyes.

“Good,” he replied, “because I wanted this summer to be different. I’ve not seen enough of you, and I’m sorry for that.”

“Different?” she queried.

“I wanted time alone with you,” he admitted. “But then Sirius turned up, and we rowed so ...”

Their eyes locked, and without knowing quite what they were doing, they both stood up. Dita saw James stretch out his hand towards her, so she reached out too, softly touching his fingers with her own. It was the slightest touch, but it seemed to pull them together. This wasn’t like the closeness of friends. This wasn’t him hugging her because she’d been dumped. This wasn’t her consoling him when his mum had banned him from playing Quidditch in the garden. This had nothing to do with anyone else. It was about the pair of them connecting, despite their different lives.

Takingher gently around the waist, James tilted his head towards her, and slowly, hesitantly, began to kiss her. She lifted her hands and ran them through his hair, then closed her eyes as his lips moved to her neck. Gary’s kisses had never affected her like this.

“Dita,” he muttered, “what are we doing?”

“I don’t know,” she breathed as his hand moved upwards to cup her breast, “but don’t stop.”

They stumbled onto the bed, kissing furiously, knowing only that this was for them. But as she began to tug on his shirt, James pulled away.

“We can’t,” he said sounding reluctant. “I can’t do this to you, Dit.”

“Yes, you can,” she replied, pulling him back towards her. She stopped talking and blew faintly on his neckline before returning to kiss his lips.

James groaned. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but as she slid her hands over his back, he felt the small shred of resolve die in him. He began to unbutton her shirt, marvelling at her smooth dark-gold skin and the firm swell of her breasts.

“I’ve not done this before,” he admitted, burying his flushing face in her neck.

“Me, neither.”

And then there were no more words �“ at least not comprehensible ones �“ as he trailed soft kisses from her neck downwards and listened to her heart thumping in perfect time with his own. He stared at her, looking deep into her eyes, and saw the faint flicker of pain flit across her face. But he was too far gone, too caught up in his own moment, to do more than utter a hurried apology. And then she smiled, relaxing into him as she urged him on.

“Oh Merlin, that was ...” he groaned as he shuddered, all too quickly, and collapsed on top of her.

“Good, yeah,” she whispered, and laughed as he nodded.

Feeling the sweat from their bodies, he tried to lever himself off to give her some space, but she wound her arm around his waist.

“You going somewhere?” she said teasingly, but he heard the insecurity in her voice.

James smoothed a tress of hair off her face and smiled down at her. “No,” he said. “I’d like to stay all night, but ... you know, Mum, Dad, and I’m back at school tomorrow.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But Dad’s downstairs, probably asleep in front of the telly, so stay for a while, won’t you?”

He shifted his weight off her and lay on his side. Sirius had once told him that what happened after was boring, the point where the girl would start talking about feelings or something. But here, with Dita, James just wanted to stay this close forever. Slowly, he started to run his hand over her body, finding it thrilling the way she quivered under his touch. His fingertips ran lazily up and down her leg, pausing briefly on the soft skin of her thigh, then sliding upwards. He saw her eyes widen in expectation and smiled at her as soft moans escaped from her lips.

“Oh boy,” she said at last. "That was ...”

James chuckled and gathered her into his arms. “I know.”

***

Sloppy and sweaty, he cupped her face in his as he gave her a farewell kiss and breathed in the faint scent of her hair. Then hopping out of the bedroom window, he mounted his broomstick, circled her garden, and blew her kisses as he flew into the night.

“Join me,” he called out and flew back to the window.

“I can’t,” she protested, but she was laughing. “It looks dangerous--and what if I fall?”

“You won’t, Dit. You’ll be with me, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.” He flashed a grin at her, then held out his hand. “Come on!”

Giggling, she climbed through the open window and slid her legs over the broom. “How do I sit? Side-saddle?”

“Just sit in front of me, and I’ll hold you,” James replied, adding, “Relax, Dita. This is a lot of fun.”

As James pushed off from the wall, she felt her stomach lurch as they jerked forwards. She screamed, but wasn’t scared. With James there, she was safe, just as she had been all those years ago when he’d run full pelt into Del and his gang. As a gentle breeze ruffled through her hair, he sped up, flying high, then swooping low, around her garden. She could feel the leaves of the bushes tickling her feet, smell the fresh scent of the night air, and see the rooftops of her neighbourhood bathed in silver starlight.

“This is wonderful,” she breathed. “Magical. Oh God, how I want this!”

James slowed down and held her close, his chin resting on her shoulder. “I want this for you too, Dit. I’d love to be able to share everything with you.” Turning the broom, he flew steadily back to her window ledge and helped her back onto the sill. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back at Christmas.”

She smiled sadly. Her brief foray into his world was at an end. “You say that every year, James, but something always keeps you at school.”

“I mean it this time,” he said with utmost sincerity.

She believed him, or at least she believed that he wanted to return, but after that first year, he’d never come back for Christmas, always promising but never fulfilling as something else always got in the way.

“I know you do,” she said and sighed, “but really you don’t have to, not for me.” She pressed one finger to his protesting lips and continued. “I took Remus’ advice and wrote to my mum’s family. I’m going there for Christmas this year, along with my dad.”

Although he looked disconcerted, James reached out his hand and stroked her soft cheek with his thumb. “Summer, then? And I’ll write �“ all the time.”

She wasn’t sure who started the kiss, perhaps it was James, perhaps it was her, but it was she who pulled away first. She could feel one solitary tear escaping from her eye and went to brush it away, but James got there first.

“Don’t cry,” he said, but his voice sounded strange, as if he too were struggling to keep his emotions in check. He pushed off from the wall and flew swiftly away, only looking once over his shoulder to shout, “I will come back, I promise.”

“I know,” she called out to the night sky, and this time she didn’t bother to wipe away her tears.

***
Sept 1st 1976

“Get off me,” complained James. “I’m tired.”

“Shagged out, more like,” muttered Sirius to Peter.

They were sitting in their carriage; the three of them sprawled over all the seats to deter any visitors. Exhausted from his late and then restless night, James was trying desperately to catch up on some sleep. However, with Sirius determined to find out if he’d ‘scored’ with Dita, he was finding it hard to even doze.

“Padfoot, just leave me alone,” he moaned.

Sensing a weakness, Sirius grabbed James by the arms and instructed Peter to sit on his legs. “Spill, Prongs,” he ordered, “or I’ll hex your bollocks off.”

James groaned to himself. He knew how persistent Sirius could be, and also how bloody annoying when he wanted to know the truth. In the past, James had caved in, anything for an easy life. But in the past he hadn’t felt the urge to keep anything private. He didn’t want to share this �“ not yet. It was his secret to cherish, at least for a while.

With a superhuman effort, he pushed Sirius off and then kicked out at Peter. “I’m tired and don’t want to talk about it,” James said crossly. He stood up, flexed his wand, and walked to the door. “I’m off to find another carriage where I can have a kip.”

Ignoring Sirius and Peters’ protests that they would leave him alone now (he knew from bitter experience that there was no way they’d let him be), James walked the length of the corridor, checking each carriage and hoping to find somewhere he could crash.

“Looking for someone, James?” called a female voice from one of the carriages. James looked across to see a giggling Mary Macdonald standing by her door. “Lily’s in here, if you want to speak to her ... or ask her out again.”

“Mary!” he heard the unmistakeable voice of Evans cry. “Stop it.”

James paused, weighing up his options. There was something he needed to do before he found somewhere to kip. Taking a breath, he stepped towards their carriage.

Lily was sitting with her group of friends playing Exploding Snap. She looked much the same as last year, complete with the scowl when he approached.

“No, Potter, please just go away,” Lily complained.

“I will in a bit, I just want a word, is that okay?”

“If you’re asking me out again, the answer’s no,” she said witheringly.

He bit back the irritation he was feeling, after last year he probably deserved her scorn. “Can I have a word with you, Lily?”

“Yes,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “Go ahead.”

“Uh, in private?”

“Oh, Potter, you can’t possibly say anything that my friends haven’t heard before, so just spit it out!” she ordered.

James held her gaze and then smiled slightly. Okay, if that was the way she wanted it. “Lily Evans,” he began. “I am very, very sorry for asking you out five times last year. I solemnly swear,” (he grinned to himself as he said that bit), “that I will not ask you out again, and I apologise �“ wholeheartedly �“ for embarrassing you in front of your friends!”

Finishing with a deep bow, he smothered the laugh that was threatening to ruin his apology and backed out of the room.

“It was six times, actually!” Lily called after him.

“At least one of us was keeping count,” he called back, looking over his shoulder and giving her a ghost of a grin.

“Wow,” he heard Mary say. “That was unexpected.”

“Another of his stupid pranks, I bet,” said Lily.

“Possibly,” Mary murmured. There was a pause, and James knew he should walk away, but he lingered just long enough to hear the end of her sentence. “I must say, Lily, you look a bit annoyed. You haven’t changed your mind about him, have you?”

He waited a bit longer to hear Lily’s response, but on hearing nothing, correctly deduced that she was refusing to answer. He started walking down the corridor until at last he found an empty carriage where he could sleep and hopefully dream about how he’d found something magical with his Muggle girl.

Christmas 1976

The airmail letter landed with a flop on James’ breakfast plate two days before Christmas. He looked at the unfamiliar owl that had carried the missive and wondered how Dita had managed to use an owl. Puzzled, he looked at the letter, which sported a stamp and an address that simply said, ‘James Potter, Hogwarts, Scotland, UK.’

“How would this get here?’ he asked Sirius, showing him the letter. “She’s in India.”

“Not come from your parents, then?” Sirius queried.

“No, they’re away. I told her in my last letter that they wouldn’t be around for the holiday either.” He grinned at Sirius. “You don’t think she’s managed to tame an owl by herself, do you?” He felt suddenly light-headed, wondering if by some miracle, Dita had managed to develop some latent magical powers.

“Unlikely,” Sirius replied, staring at the letter curiously. He looked to his right, where Lily and her friends were just about to leave. “Lily, you’re Muggle-born. How do your parents send you letters?”

Lily looked across, her interest no doubt peaked by Sirius asking something in a polite manner. “I usually write to them first, and then they attach a letter to the owl,” she replied. “Why?”

Sirius snatched the letter from James’ hands and waved it under her nose. “Prongs has a letter from his Muggle girlfriend, and it’s not come from his parents’ owl.”

Plucking the letter from Sirius’ hands, Lily returned it to a protesting James. “The post office has wizards in place just in case a Muggle tries to contact us,” she said knowledgeably. “They probably do abroad as well.”

“Oh.” James felt deflated and berated himself for his stupid theory. “Thanks, Lily,” he muttered and pushed his plate away.

“You leaving that?” Peter asked, gesturing to the bacon and sausage left on the plate.

“Go ahead,” James replied. “I think I’ll go for a walk.”

“Aww, Prongs has gone all lovesick on us.” Sirius' smile belied the mockery in his voice. He turned back to Lily. “You see what you missed out on, Evans? Separated during term-time, yet the valiant and chivalrous James Potter has remained true to his beloved �“ the fair Dita.”

“Well, good luck to her,” Lily said, a touch acidly. “She’ll need it if she has to put up with you morons as well.”

“Oi, we’re nice to her,” protested Sirius. “We like Dita.”

“And,” Peter pointed out, “we’re not going hex a Muggle girl. That wouldn’t be fair.”

Remus jerked his head up from the letter he was reading, and the slight movement caught James’ attention. They exchanged a look.

“Got something to add, Moony?” he asked lightly.

Remus stared back at him. “You know we wouldn’t use magic on her, Prongs,” he said in a flat voice.

And although James knew that something else was whirring inside Remus’ mind, he knew he didn’t want to hear it. Clutching Dita’s letter firmly to his chest, he strode out of the Great Hall and toward the greenhouses, so he could read his letter alone.

‘Dear James,’ he read.

‘I hope this letter gets to you. I know I should have waited until your parents got back, but I wanted to send you a letter in time for Christmas.

Wow, James, India is amazing. I’ve met my grandmother and three aunts. I also have seven cousins �“ all younger than me. It’s fantastic being able to meet them properly and although my grandmother’s English isn’t very good, my cousins speak it perfectly, so they translate. They’re very warm and loving people. I can’t believe I was so scared to contact them before now, so please send my thanks to Remus for prodding me into this.’

James read avidly, as she wrote about the places she’d visited and the people she’d met. India came alive to him under her words. He could almost feel the heat of the country and smell the spicy scent of the air as she described everything in perfect detail. He envied her �“ not begrudgingly �“ but with a longing that had as much to do with wanting to see different places as wanting to share all this with her. Yet it was disquieting to read her letter. She sounded so happy �“ complete �“ and it had nothing to do with him. Wistfully, he turned to the last page.

‘How is everyone? Is Sirius behaving himself? Did Peter ever finish that essay you were telling me about? How did Remus manage to wriggle out of that detention? You never did explain.

I saw your mum before I left and she told me she hadn’t had a single owl from Hogwarts complaining about your behaviour. I think she was surprised. Not sure your Dad was entirely happy �“ ha ha.’

James wondered if he imagined the pause after these words, but there was a definite change in her tone.

I miss you, you know. Even here in Delhi, where I’m seeing and learning so much, I think of you. I wish you were here with me, so you could experience all this, too. God, James, I wish we hadn’t argued in August. We could have had more than one night together. And I’m scared that will be our only time because it all seems impossibly unreal. Sorry, you don’t want to hear that. I swore I wouldn’t mope. It’s just �“ I don’t know �“ I just miss you so much, even here and summer seems such a long way off.

Take care.

All my love,

Dita
Xxx

He read and reread the last paragraph over and over, relishing her words, revelling in the sentiments.

She missed him. She longed for him. She was scared.

James frowned. Why was she scared? Why was this impossible and unreal?

He ambled slowly back to the castle, mulling over her words. There was a small voice in his head whispering something, but he didn’t want to listen.

“A Knut for them,” Lily called as he approached the second flight of stairs.

James looked up. “Huh?”

“Your thoughts, Potter. A Knut for your thoughts.”

“Oh, right.” His face cleared. “Worth more than that, Evans.” He started to mount the second flight, surprised when she joined him.

“Good news, was it?” she asked, pointing to Dita’s letter.

He didn’t answer the question; instead he posed his own. “What do your parents say to people when they ask about you?”

“You mean, what do they say about this place?” she asked.

James nodded. “Yeah, I s’pose, but also what happens when you send them an owl. Doesn’t that make people talk?”

“I send them in the evening,” she answered and started laughing. “I sent one once during the day because I had to send my mum her birthday present. It caused a bit of a fuss when it landed right in the middle of tea with the vicar. My parents thought it very funny, but my sister wasn’t at all amused.”

He didn’t say anything. He’d heard stories about Lily’s sister, who always stayed in the car when Lily was boarding the train.

“But they didn’t mind?” he persisted.

Lily shrugged. “No, they’re happy to hear from me. It’s just better if I’m a bit more discreet.”

“Keeps your sister happy, I bet.”

“Yes, there’s that as well. But it’s more...” She hesitated and then took a deep breath. “They’re Muggles, James and although they love me, they don’t understand any of this. They want to, but ... well ... they can’t, can they?”

“Does that matter?”

She smiled warmly. “No, not really. I love them very much, and no one can be exactly the way their parents want them to be, can they? It would just be so cool if they could experience this all for themselves.”

“You should take them flying, Lily,” James said and smiled back at her.

“Where did you meet her?” Lily asked, sounding, James thought, rather too casual.

“She’s from home,” he replied and started laughing at the memories of their first day out together. “I met her when we were nine, and we just seemed to click �“ you know. Of course, we were just friends for years, but somehow...” He stopped talking, suddenly embarrassed that he was talking about Dita to Lily Evans of all people �“ the girl he’d made a fool out of himself over for the whole of his fifth year. He expected Lily to start teasing him, to chide him for being so sentimental, but she’d stopped walking and had a curious frozen look on her face.

“You’re lucky you didn’t grow apart,” she said bleakly.

James ruffled his hair as he considered her words. “I guess we did for a while, but we’re cool now.”

He carried on up the stairs, leaving her holding onto the bannister.

“Lover boy’s returned,” Sirius announced as James walked into the common room. “How is the lovely Dita?”

“Fine,” James replied, not giving anything away. It was his letter; he didn’t have to share. “She asked after you guys, by the way.” Sirius smirked, until James continued. “Especially you, Moony. Wanted me to thank you for getting her to write to her relatives.”

“Is she enjoying India?” Remus asked. There was a hesitation in his voice, as if he were reluctant to talk about her.

James frowned at him. “She’s having a great time, despite missing me desperately �“ of course.”

“Of course,” agreed Remus. He got up from the floor where he’d been sitting reading his own letter and walked towards the flight of stairs that led to their dormitory.

James watched him go, caught the confused look on Peter’s face, and decided to follow Remus up the stairs.

“Gonna tell me what the problem is, Moony?” he asked as he pushed his way into the room.

Remus was lying on his bed, again reading his letter. Carefully folding it up and returning it to the envelope, he turned his face towards James. “There’s no problem, Prongs.”

“Could have fooled me!” James muttered as he approached Remus bed. “You’ve been bloody miserable about me and Dita since I told you. Merlin, you’ve not even been taking the piss out of me like the other two.”

“I’m not the other two,” Remus said softly. “I don’t always do things just because Padfoot does.”

“Didn’t stop you last year, when I was chasing Evans, did it?” James retorted. He crouched by Remus' bed and pulled on his arm. “Last year you couldn’t stop winding me up.”

Remus wrenched his arm away and started rubbing the place where James had gripped him. “Last year you were behaving like an arrogant prat,” he argued.

“And I’m not now,” James stated, thinking that he should be feeling glad about Remus' reasoning, but he was aware that his friend was holding something back.

“You’re less arrogant, James,” muttered Remus, “but now you’re acting like an idiot with no thought for anyone else.”

“WHAT?” James was bemused. Grabbing Remus by his arm again, he pulled him to sitting. “What the hell are you on about?”

“Dita!” Remus explained. He stared at James and lifted one hand to free himself from James’ grasp. “I don’t think you’re thinking about her at all.”

“Of course I think about her, Moony,” he protested. “Merlin, I’m not sitting around dreaming about her all the time or anything, but she’s always there somewhere. Don’t you get that?”

“She’s Muggle!”

“So what!” James shouted, really starting to get angry now. “Bloody hell, Remus, you’re the last person I expected to be prejudiced.”

“It isn’t prejudice, you dimwit,” yelled Remus. “It’s common sense.”

“What?”

“She’s. A. Muggle.” Remus repeated. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“I KNOW! That’s why I like her. She’s different.”

“Good for you,” Remus replied, his voice rife with sarcasm. “Fantastic that you’ve found someone so bloody different that you can be happy together. Happy in this sodding world.”

James shook his head and bit back the fury still bubbling inside of him. “You don’t want me being happy ‘cause you’re not. Is that it?”

Remus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached down to his bed and picked up his letter. “That’s not it at all, Prongs,” he said softly. “Merlin, you lot have all done so much for me, but you’re not thinking straight.”

“About what?”

Remus held out his letter. “This is from my dad. My mum is in hospital.”

“Sorry,” James started to mutter. He liked Mrs Lupin; she was always so kind to her son’s friends, grateful that they’d stuck by her boy. “Is she okay?”

“She will be,” Remus said. He sat down on the edge of his bed, and after a while, James joined him. “She was hexed, Prongs.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a Muggle,” Remus replied bitterly. “She can’t defend herself, can she?”

He understood now. He appreciated Remus’ anxiety for his mum and was touched at his concern, but it wasn’t a problem for him. “I’ll protect Dita. I always have.”

“Against the Death Eaters?” queried Remus. “Come on, what chance would you have? This isn’t a gang of older boys we’re talking about here. These are people that want to kill or maim, because someone has sullied the bloodline.”

“It’s not that bad,” muttered James.

“You know it is,” whispered Remus, “and it’ll get worse.”

***

April 1977

Dita was hurrying out of college, clutching her bag to her chest when she heard a crack rent through the air. It puzzled her, because she couldn’t see anyone, and the day was calm, so it wasn’t a branch snapping in the wind or a car backfiring, and it didn’t sound at all like thunder. Instead of hurrying away to get to the dining hall, she stopped on the concourse and looked around her. Listening carefully, she thought she could hear soft breathing to her right-hand side, so she turned her face that way. There was nothing there, but she could hear something, she was sure of it.

“James,” she murmured. “Is that you?”

She shrieked when the hand grabbed her, scared for her life because James had been quite clear in his letters that things were bad. He’d told her more than once that he couldn’t write anymore because someone might trace her and that was too dangerous, but then she’d write back anyway, and a different owl would turn up imploring her to take care.

She’d shaken her head several times, laughing at his fears and assuring him that she could take care of herself. She reminded him �“frequently �“ that she’d been more than a match for Del, and refused to let him go.

James had replied that Del was nothing. Del was a joke. She had to stop writing to him because the wizards who hated her kind wouldn’t stop at insults or dust in her hair.

I don’t care, she’d scrawled on a torn page of her English book, and parcelled it up with a pack of biros in case he was planning on using his blistered fingers as an excuse not to write.

Once she’d written and asked him directly if there was another girl �“ Lily Whatsit for instance - because if that was the case then she was welcome to him. Dita would far rather he was honest than a cheating git.

That had riled him. He’d replied the next day, the owl landing outside her classroom window and not at dusk when she got home, pecking on the pane of glass as it waited for her to take the message from its leg. It had been awkward, but also rather amusing, as she concocted a lie about her father training owls, but fortunately, no one had questioned her story.

James had told her once that Muggles often missed things. She didn’t, because she knew they were there, but her teacher had proved surprisingly blind to the intrusion.

She shrieked again as the hand pulled her closer, then stopped as a mouth clamped down on hers.

“Jesus, you scared me!” she breathed, smiling up into the laughing face of her boyfriend.

“Sorry,” James muttered. “I thought it best if I came in disguise.”

“What is this?” she asked, staring at the filmy fabric that enveloped the both of them.

“Invisibility Cloak,” he replied. “Belonged to my dad, and he gave it to me. Very useful for getting around school, or sneaking out of Hogsmeade when I want to see my girlfriend.”

“You mean you’ve had this for ages and not visited me before?” The reproach in her voice was faint but still obvious.

James kissed her again on the lips. “I couldn’t before because the Ministry would have tracked me, but now that I’m seventeen I don’t have the Trace, plus I can Apparate .” He grinned at her. “Thanks for the present, by the way. It made me laugh.”

Dita grinned back. “Box of magic tricks. I wasn’t sure if you’d be insulted.”

“Nah, it’s brilliant. Sirius can’t work out how I’m doing it and is convinced I’m cheating by using magic.” He wound his hands around her waist and kissed her some more before continuing. “Can you bunk off college for a bit?”

Dita thought about the lesson she should be attending this afternoon. She thought about the money her dad was shelling out to pay for this fancy place. Then she thought about James and how much she’d missed him. “Where are we going?”

“Uh, just 'round here, I thought.”

“Oh.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “I thought you were going to whisk me off somewhere under your magic cloak.”

“Um, well, I would, but I don’t want you to end up Splinched.”

“What?” She didn’t understand a word, but had to admit it sounded nasty.

“Splinching happens in Apparition, and I’m not sure you could do it anyway ‘cause you don’t have a wand,” James explained. He squeezed her around the waist again. “I’ve made an effort and ditched my robes, so I shouldn’t look too weird.”

Dita pulled back and looked him up and down. He was wearing a wide-collared orange shirt, and flared high-waisted jeans. She tried not to laugh; after all, the clothes were only three years out of date. “You look ... um ... great.”

“Let’s go then,” he said, and with a flourish, he removed the Cloak from them both.

Giggling, Dita took his hand, and they ran across the concourse together. She didn’t even stop to dump her bag, but steered him to the right and down the street until they reached a cafe.

“I’ve got Muggle money,” James whispered when the surly waitress presented them with their bill, obviously annoyed that in between sharing chocolate cake, they’d spent most of their time kissing, “but you’ll need to pay because I don’t have a clue.” He waved a ten pound note under her face. “Will that be enough?”

“God, yes!” Dita replied. “More than enough.”

After paying, they left the cafe and walked leisurely hand-in-hand up the street. Dita knew a park nearby where they could sit and enjoy the warm spring day. James was looking around the street, staring in the shop windows, obviously fascinated by all the Muggle items on display.

Then his attention turned to the people, especially the teenagers who were eyeing them both.

“I’m not wearing the right clothes at all, am I?” he whispered as they passed a gang of lads with black spiky hair, skin-tight trousers and ripped t-shirts.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered back.

“I’ll know next time,” he muttered, “and I won’t have a problem getting my hair to look like that.”

She felt a curious lightness inside of her. There would be a next time, and as James could do this Apparition thing, it could be a proper, regular relationship and not one restricted to letters.

He laughed when he saw a juggler with a crowd around him, plying his trade, enchanting his audience.

“That’s like us, Dita,” he said, in amusement, “juggling our two worlds.”

She was about to reply that she hoped he wasn’t a butterfingers, but James wasn’t looking at the juggler anymore. She stopped walking when James halted. He had a slight frown on his face as he stared down a side street.

“What’s the matter?”

“This street,” he said vaguely. “I thought it was familiar. I’ve just realised why.” He pointed to the side street. “That’s Grimmauld Place. It’s where Sirius’ family live.” He dropped his hand from her waist and walked closer. “I thought I saw ...”

Dita watched as James’ eyes darted all around him, taking in every one of the people on the street corners, still walking closer to the corner. Dita followed, clutching her bag to her and wishing now that she’d left it at school. James turned his head and mimed for her to be silent. She nodded, but didn’t stop walking.

James huddled up to the wall and peered his head around. He looked worried about something, but also excited, like a coil waiting to spring. “What the hell are they doing here?” His face blanched; following his gaze, Dita saw three boys in the street.

“What’s the problem?” Dita asked.

“That’s Sirius’ brother, Regulus. The other two are at school with me.” He pointed to the shortest one there. “That’s Lucan Mulciber, the other one’s Snape.”

“The guy you hexed last year.”

James nodded. He turned his head away from the three. “You need to get out of here,” he said. “Get back to school, okay?”

“Come with me,” she implored. “We can still go to the park. Have our day together.”

James cupped her face in one hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I need to know what they’re up to. Just get away from here. It’s not safe.”

“I’m staying!” Dita said furiously.

“Yeah, Potter. Leave the lady alone.”

Over James’ shoulder, Dita could see all three boys approaching, their wands raised.

“Run!” James ordered, and pushing Dita behind him, he pulled out his wand from the waistband of his trousers and faced the three boys. “Dita, take the Cloak and just get the hell out of here.”

“You can’t take on three of them,” she whispered.

“Sure I can,” James said aloud as he stared at the three boys in front of him. “Black’s younger, Mulciber can’t aim to save his life, and Snivelly’s a coward!”

She saw a yellow jet of light emerge from the Black boy’s wand and marvelled as James deflected it easily. He didn’t seem to be uttering any words, but flicked his wand, reacting to every movement that Black and Mulciber hurled at him. The other one �“ the Snape boy �“ hadn’t cast any spells yet, but was watching intently, like a snake watching its prey. His eyes flicked from James to Dita, a small smile playing on his lips. Instinctively, she moved further behind James and tried to avoid his penetrating gaze, but there was something keeping her looking at him. She saw herself as a nine-year-old with dirt in her hair, and James bowling into Del.

“She’s a Muggle!” Snape declared. “Potter’s got himself a Muggle girlfriend.”

“RUN! NOW!” James yelled. He hurled a hex at Snape, which glanced off his arm, tearing the fabric of his tatty robes. Seizing his chance, Mulciber aimed again, and this time he hit home. James clutched his side in pain, yet still managed to deflect a hex from Regulus. Snape fired, and this time James’ wand spun out of his hand, landing on the ground. James lunged for it at the same time as Snape, both wizards grappling on the ground for the thin stick of wood. As Mulciber laughed, Dita did the only thing she could, and threw her bag of books straight at his head.

She’d hoped to knock him out, to help James by at least harming one of them, but Mulciber deflected the bag easily, and then destroyed it with a single hex. He inched towards her, but James, having successfully retrieved his wand, stood straight in front of her. “Dita, get out of here, now,” he muttered.

“I’m not leaving you!”

“Just do it! I can’t fight them if I have to protect you.”

With one hand behind his back, he thrust the Cloak into her hands, and pushed her away. She could sense the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but also his worry for her. As Snape hit James with another curse, and Regulus aimed his wand directly at her, she threw the Cloak around her shoulders and ran.

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” she wept as she rounded the corner and fled through the street. Fear was driving her now, urging her onwards and away from everything she’d seen in that grim street. But as she caught her breath, her sobs redoubled, and she stopped abruptly. She’d left James there. It was one against three, and although he appeared to be skilled at fighting, it was still overpowering odds. She had left him ... alone. Hesitating only a few seconds more, she turned around and ran back to Grimmauld Place.

He was on his knees when she got there, and a cut on his face was bleeding. One eye was almost closed, and his clothes were ripped, but James was smiling. The others were nowhere to be seen, but she could see some torn material and a bloody patch on the ground.

“Where are they?” she asked as she removed the Cloak.

“Gone,” James explained, not sounding at all surprised that she’d returned. “I hurt Snape, and he Apparated with Mulciber.” He pointed to the ground. “One of them got Splinched; I bloody hope it was Snape. Regulus ran back to his house. Sodding coward!” He turned towards her. “I told you to run.”

“I did,” she replied shakily. “But I came back. I thought if I could find a tree branch big enough --” Her voice cracked, and then she was sitting on the ground, curled up, hugging her knees and crying.

James shuffled across and put his arms around her. As he kissed her gently on the lips, she could taste blood. He winced and pulled away, raising his hand to wipe the blood away.

“Tree branch won’t work on them,” he said. “And your books were all destroyed, too. Sorry.”

Gently, he pulled her to standing. “I need to get to Hogwarts,” he said distantly, “but I’ll take you back to school first.”

She wanted to protest that they were supposed to be spending the afternoon together, that she needed him to hold her and reassure her that it was nothing, but she could sense James was not with her now, his thoughts only on his world.

They walked back, still hand-in-hand, yet saying nothing. James was no longer interested in the shops, but studied the people just as intently as he had before. At the school gate, he stopped and bent his head down for a quick kiss. But Dita wouldn’t let go. She pulled him towards her, kept him there, until he was kissing her back just as intensely, just as passionately, just as desperately. Her face was wet, but she wasn’t sure if it were her tears or James’ staining her face.

At last, he pulled away, staring at her face, as if he were seeing it for the first time ... or maybe the last.

“I can’t write to you anymore, Dita,” he explained softly. “They’ll trace you, even if I switch owls.” He took a breath, a gut wrenching, shuddering breath. “It’s probably best if you don’t write to me either.”

“It’s over, isn’t it?” she wept.

“I‘ll see you in the summer,” he said gently, and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “By our tree.”

“You haven’t answered me, James.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re not safe with me.”

He gave her another hug, holding her tight, and she breathed in his scent, wondering if she would see him again.

“Bye, Dit,” he said at last, and turning quickly, he disappeared, leaving her alone before she’d had the chance to say goodbye.

***

“Whoa, what happened to you?” Peter asked as James joined them in the Dining Hall.

“Explain later,” James muttered as he shook his head, unwilling to talk about it when other people were around. “Where’s Padfoot?”

“His Uncle Alphard’s ill,” Remus replied, watching James very closely, his eyes flickering over the cut cheek and the black eye. “He had permission to visit him in St Mungo’s.”

That explains why Regulus was at home, James thought as he toyed with some food on his plate. He wasn’t hungry, although it had been hours ago that he’d sat in the cafe sharing chocolate cake. Five hours �“ it seemed like a lifetime.

Glancing across to the Slytherin table, he saw Mulciber with his arm in a sling and Snape with a livid slice across his face. He smiled grimly and turned to Remus.

“You were right,” he said bleakly.

“About what?”

“Things have got a lot worse.”

***

Summer 1977

“I know you’re here, James Potter,” he heard her yell. “Behind your stupid Cloak. I can smell you! I’m not going away, you know. And if you don’t show up, I’ll kidnap your mum’s owl and bombard you with letters.”

“I don’t smell!” he called from the branches of the tree above her. “I’m not in my Cloak.” He jumped down, landing effortlessly beside her. “And I’m pretty sure you can’t ‘kid’nap an owl. It would be ‘bird’ nap.”

“You git,” she exclaimed, punching him on the arm. “Why didn’t you say you were here as soon as I arrived?”

“Lookout,” he mumbled. To change the subject, he grabbed her and swung her around in the air. Then clutching her to him and hoisting her legs around his waist, he started to kiss her. “Missed me?”

“Very much,” she whispered, but she wasn’t to be deflected. “What did you mean by lookout?”

“Can’t risk being followed,” he said casually.

“They wouldn’t come here, would they?”

He shrugged. “I’m not taking any chances.”

Pulling her to the ground, he leaned against the tree. She sat astride him, running her fingers through his hair and dropping feather soft kisses on his lips, his cheeks, and across to his neck.

“You’re driving me crazy,” James groaned.

“Good,” she whispered. “I want you to know exactly what you’re missing when we’re not together.” She started to run her hand down the front of his shirt, undoing buttons with fumbling fingers.

James leant further back against the tree, enjoying the sensations coursing through him as she kissed his chest. But when her lips encountered a scar that ran across his stomach and she faltered, something clicked in his head.

“No, Dita,” he muttered and started to push her away.

“Why not?”

“We can’t do this. It’s not fair on you.”

“I want to,” she said, and her hand slid further down. “You do too.”

“Yeah,” he said, “course I bloody do, but we can’t.”

“Why not?” she repeated, then pulled herself off him. “Have you got someone else?”

“No,” he soothed. The friendship he’d surprisingly forged over the last term with Lily could not be called a relationship �“ not compared to this. “But I can’t start things up with you again, Dita.” He took her hands in his. “Please understand. You’d be a target.”

“Remus’ mum is a Muggle. He told me that. Why can’t it work?” Her voice was thick with emotion, the despair seeping out of her eyes, dropping into tears.

“Remus’ mum is in hiding. She’s gone abroad. He doesn’t know where, but she was hexed more than once, and John Lupin just can’t protect her.” He ran his hands across his face, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “He’s a good wizard, Dit, but he couldn’t stop it happening.”

She clutched at him, and he saw a ray of hope starting in her eyes. “We could go away,” she whispered. “We could live in Delhi and they wouldn’t be able to trace you ... or me.” She gasped in excitement. “You could live as a Muggle until this is over.”

James stared at her, hearing the excitement in her voice. He took her hands again and raised them to his lips. “I can’t leave. I have to fight.”

“You’re seventeen,” she pointed out. “You’re still at school for Christ’s sake!”

“I’m of age,” he said bleakly. Then he laughed mirthlessly. “I’m a Gryffindor, Dita. We don’t run.”

She pulled her hands away and clutched her sides. “Why did you want to see me?” she asked, staring ahead blankly.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly trying to formulate his thoughts. She deserved the truth ... after all, it was all he could give her.

“I wanted to see you, Dita. One last time. I wanted to kiss you, to hold you and maybe ...” He trailed off, blushing as he thought about their only time together. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking of you ... just of me.”

There was an achingly long pause. James gazed at the bees buzzing around the wild foxgloves, trying to will the tears in his eyes not to spill over. He failed, but before he could wipe them away with his sleeve, Dita had reached over and brushed one tear away with her thumb.

“One last time,” she murmured in his ear.

And then he was drowning, drowning in the sweet scent of her as she cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. She pushed him slowly to the ground, and with fingers no longer fumbling, she started to undo her own shirt. She didn’t remove it, but he could see quite clearly the white cotton bra against the golden brown skin.

“You sure about this?” he asked as his hands slid under her shirt, tugging at her bra straps.

She placed one finger on his lips. “Hush,” she said, “we don’t want to disturb the bees.”

November 1981

Dita wasn’t surprised to see a man in robes standing in the middle of the Quad outside the bedroom window of her room at Oxford. She realised she’d been waiting for him �“ or someone like him �“ for a week or so now, ever since she’d been rushing out for a Halloween party and felt something inside her give way.

She’d dismissed it as nerves; after all, she was on her way to a party with a new boyfriend, and obviously she wasn’t entirely at ease. But even after a drink, the feeling hadn’t lessened at all. It had developed into dread, and she’d had to make her excuses. She still thought it was tiredness, but when she’d seen a sudden burst of owls flying overhead, her heart had plummeted.

“Remus,” she called out of the window of her ground floor room.

He turned around and began to walk slowly towards her. He looked older, far older than his twenty-two years, and exceptionally tired, as if he’d barely slept for a week. She wriggled out of her window and dropped gently to the grass.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Remus nodded. “I wanted to tell you in person.”

“I knew, you know,” she said, feeling a sob stifling her throat, “as soon as I saw all those bloody owls in the sky, and not a single one stopped for me.” She gulped at the air, defying the sobs that wracked though her. “I thought it would be Sirius here, not you.”

Remus said nothing, but stared at his feet.

“Did he die fighting?”

“Yes.”

“He died like a Gryffindor, then,” she replied, but gained no solace from the thought.

“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered, his voice faint on the rippling breeze.

“He had all this magic!” she exclaimed loudly, suddenly bitter. “He could do anything, but he’s still dead! Magic killed him!”

He enveloped her in a strong embrace as she sobbed the unshed tears of five bitter years. “Yes,” he agreed in a voice so low and shaky she had to catch her breath to hear him. "He told me once how you’d defended him against an older boy.” Remus paused and pulled away from her, staring ahead at the groups of people now rushing to get back inside, away from the drizzling rain.

“I told him once,” he said, sounding bitter, “that there was no way he could keep you safe. But looking back, it would have been better if he’d stayed with you, Dita. His Muggle girl, with her tree branch, would have kept him safe. ”

“He would always have been juggling,” she murmured.

Remus nodded and took her small frozen hand in his. “You never saw James Potter on a Quidditch pitch,” he whispered with aching sadness. “He never dropped a Quaffle, so if anyone could juggle two worlds, it would have been him.”