:: Chapter 30: Taken ::

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After the mild after effects of what the Marauders had dubbed, 'The Grimmauld Place Debacle," the last two days of Christmas break passed faster than they would have liked. The children were more than a little reluctant to leave the merriment of Grimmauld Place which came to be due to the ebullient personalities of the Marauders, knowing that returning to Hogwarts would mean placing themselves under Umbridge's tyranny once more.

James had utilised the remainder of his free time in peppering his room with photographs of himself and Lily. Harry had begun to get progressively worried, but Sirius and Remus had assured him that it was his father's way of coping with her death, and insisted that James would get better, only to give him to much needed time.

James had always tried to hide his pain by his trademark grins and playful demeanour, but that didn't fool Harry, Remus or Sirius. They could always detect the grief hidden in his eyes, the pain which he always tried to conceal from others. James Potter was hurting, and there was nothing much that they could do about it, knowing that he was a silent sufferer. He was, however, coming to terms with her death, and would talk about her more often than not.

But, even though the marauder prank had succeeded with flying colors, even though Sirius was now a free man, even though James had his son back, James could never be completely happy. He wanted Lily to be by his side, so that both of them could look out for Harry as they had intended to. He knew that there would always be a small stitch in his heart which he wouldn't be able to fix without her presence. He was also quite sure that that stitch would remain as long as he lived, as a reminder of what he had had lost despite all his attempts. James couldn't even dream about seeing another woman. . .

It was either Lily, or no one at all.

Despite the fact that James would sometimes dissolve into his own world whenever he thought about the love of his life, he was determined that he would be his old self as usual, and Harry had been getting quite a ribbing from James until a while ago. The elder Potter had been quite interested in knowing about his love life, and had begun giving him hell.

As Harry tossed another shirt haphazardly onto his trunk in a last minute packing attempt on the morning they had scheduled to leave, he absently remembered how his father had cornered him the night before. . .

"So what's this I'm noticing about a certain black haired girl?" asked James rather casually as he pretended to be absorbed in the task of cleaning the lenses of his brand new glasses, but the huge smirk that was plastered on his face ruined the effect. James had gone out to buy himself a new pair, feeling that his old one was outdated. He now placed his new, black, rectangular rimmed ones on his nose again. Hazel eyes met bright green, one playful, and the other slightly panicked.

"What girl?" asked Harry, masking his initial panicked expression with that of blatant nonchalance.

"Oh, you know, the rather pretty young lady I met at the DA class. The one who was most eager about seeing you cast a patronus," mused James, the smirk growing bigger at an alarming rate.

"Oh, do you mean Cho Chang? She was just being curious," said Harry cautiously.

"It seemed quite a bit more than that," pondered James, waving his wand and transfiguring a rather ugly looking vase into a table and back again. "She couldn't keep her eyes off of you, but that's to be expected, I mean, you're my son. You'll possess the same charm."

It was now Harry's turn to smirk.

"Charm, huh?'' he asked. "D'you think you're charming now? You're quite old you know. You have a fifteen year old son." he said, knowing very well that what he was saying was an exaggeration. Once you caught sight of James's tall, lean profile with the rugged hair, very mischevious hazel eyes and energetic aura, it was quite obvious that James Potter was no old wanker.

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