Where It Stays | J. POTTER [1]

0 | epilogue

There was a pounding at his door and he hopped out of bed, wand in hand. The war had been moving along quickly and everyone was on edge. The only people who would have come over wouldn't have been coming over at three in the morning.

He swung the door open and had the wand pointed at the intruder immediately. His arm dropped slightly as he gaped at the person in front of him.

She looked older, much older. Her hair was a tangled mess from the rain and her clothes were matted to her skin and she looked frantic. He glanced down at her arm and saw the mark on her forearm and they trailed back up to her neck where the chain from the necklace his mother had given her rested, the pendant hidden under her shirt. Her face was pale and whatever makeup she had been wearing was now smeared from the rain.

James didn't truthfully need anything to identify who she was because he dreamed about her every night. He dreamed about her coming back to him but never did he actually believe it would happen. He raised his wand again, "What are you doing here?"

She had been so busy taking in the boy - or man - that she hadn't even noticed the wand was pointed at her. It had been forever since she had been this close to him. Since she was close enough to reach out and grab him if that's what she had desired to do.

"What are you doing here, Mayalyn?" he repeated and this seemed to pull her back to reality.

What was she doing here? she thought to herself. She seemed to register what a stupid idea it was and she tensed up, looking around frantically to make sure nobody had followed her. She shook her head and she turned to walk away but his hand was on her shoulder before she could get away.

They both felt the jolt of electricity from the touch and he pulled away immediately. "Come inside," he suggested, stepping further inside and holding the door open for her. She looked around warily and he spoke again, "The longer you stand there, the more likely it is that they will find you here."

She bit the inside of her lip before nodding, taking cautious steps into his house. "If you're here to kill me, you may want to rethink that," he informed her, raising his wand slightly, "I've gotten far better at dueling since the last time you saw me."

"I'm not here to kill you," she said simply, looking around the house in intrigue. It was the first thing she had said to him since she had shown up unannounced and it was odd even to her. Of all the things she had imagined saying to him, informing him that she was not at his homestead to kill him was nowhere on her list.

This was foreign territory for the both of them. It had been years since they had seen or talked to each other, the only updates they received on the other were through other people. It was certainly not how it had used to be when talking came so easily. But it was similar to the start of fifth year when suddenly everything was different and neither of them were sure why. Only this time they knew.

"Then why are you here?" he asked, watching the girl as she picked up the statue of a stag and doe that he had on his entryway table.

"I don't know," she answered honestly, examining the trinket. "I think I just needed to see you."

"And you thought showing up at my doorstep in the middle of the night was the best way to do that?" he inquired, walking over to the girl. He reached around her and took the trinket from her hands and placed it back down on the table. "A phone call would have been preferred."

"Everything is being traced," she reminded him cooly, turning to face him. They were a mere few inches apart and she could smell the aftershave she had been so fond of what felt like a lifetime ago. "If the Dark Lord ever found out I was here..."