James Potter and the Radical Revivalists

Chapter Six

“Take that one- no, the newest Cleansweep- there you go. Do you have your…wand?” James asked, almost forgetting what those wood things were called again. Lyra nodded as she snatched the broomstick from the rack in the Gryffindor Quidditch supply closet. James had grabbed his on their way here, and he had been waiting for Lyra to find a suitable broom.

“Yeah.” She followed James out the tiny rooms’ door and began walking with him up the path to Hogwarts. “How come you’re remembering things so quickly?”

“I have no idea.”

“You have no idea? What do you mean? All I know is that you picked up my wand and you suddenly needed to find Alex. What in the name of Merlin is going on?”

James turned around quickly, and mounted his broom.

“I don’t really know, to be honest. I need to prevent my two best friends from dying, if you don’t mind. So if you’re so set on helping me, then get on your broom,” he snapped. James waited for Lyra to get ready, and then they both kicked off from the stone pathway. Side by side, they flew to the Astronomy Tower (and almost crashed into a telescope) and then, discarding their brooms by the stairway door, ran down. James had absolutely no idea of where he was going and what he was planning to do (secretly, he was just making the plan up as he went along, but he was hesitant to tell that to Lyra). After running along s short corridor, they came to the down-staircase, which led them to the seventh floor. 

“James, where are we going?” Lyra said, gasping for breath after they came to the end of the seventh hall. 

“Er…” she had just asked the question he didn’t want to answer. “Wait! Get behind that door!” He made a dash for an empty classroom door, and quietly shut it. 

“What are you doing now?” 

“I heard someone coming down the hall…they sounded older than a seventh year, and they weren’t a student,” James whispered. Lyra had an annoyed yet slightly confused expression on her face.

“I saw their robes, and they weren’t Hogwarts robes,” James continued, answering her silent question. 

“Alright, so you saw their robes. That’s the best evidence you could come up with?” Lyra hissed. “Maybe it was your mum or dad. Ever think of that?”

“No, but I’d think I’d know if they were my parents,” James rolled his eyes, and opened the door a crack.

“Yeah, that counts a lot, coming from someone who lost their memory,” Lyra grunted, loud enough for James to hear. 

“Listen to me,” James whispered angrily, drawing his wand, and pointing it at Lyra. “I may have lost my memory, but I do know who my parents are. I don’t know why, but after I touched your wand, I knew who they were. Now, all I need to do is save five people from being killed. Two have already died, to my knowledge, and they weren’t even my friends. I’d prefer if you didn’t get killed, but if you keep rattling on so loudly, we’ll-”

“Get caught?” Both James and Lyra turned to look at the new voice that had spoken. He was tall, with dark hair, and creepy grey eyes.

“Yes, Mister Potter, two people have died.” 

“Who are you?” Lyra said boldly, staring at him with a terrified gleam in her eyes.

“Who am I? I think Potter here knows the answer to that,” the teenager quickly turned his head to look at James. James stared back defiantly, and then it hit him. 

“You’re Marco Baker,” James said. “You killed your best friend, and that other girl-”

“Clever of you, Potter. But can you figure out why I look different? Why I have this scar?” Baker pulled up his right sleeve, and pointed at a moon-shaped scar on his palm.