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.”