So you're probably wondering how I know that whole big story, right? As I've told you before, I was in the tour group that Harry and Ginny skipped out on that night in Edinburgh. I chose to go into those Vaults, and I chose to go back to them on my own time. Nestled between those paper stands is a door that will make your spine tingle from end to end. Large men have come running out in tears, and larger Wizards have been reduced further. What's so frightening about the vaults? Nothing really. The thing that is the scariest about the Vaults is the lack of anything tangibly frightening. You'd swear you saw someone run past, brush your neck, smack your hand or wave at your hair, but you don't truly SEE anything down there. What really gets a body to shivering is the fact that you can feel other things seeing you.
It was down in these Vaults that I found James Potter. I found him after wandering the underbelly of the South Bridge for many hours. You can get awfully turned around when you're using only your wand to light the path. On the way up the main stairs, I noticed an offshoot path behind me. It was down this path I traveled to find what was making my hair stand on end. Down a small side path that you would miss if you were not looking for it, I found what I have described as a single grave. That isn't totally accurate, as there are two people buried there, but it suits. James and Lily Potter were buried in each other's arms. That was James' last request to Dumbledore before the memorial. As I looked at the grave, tucked away in its small dusty corner, a chill overtook me. My spine tingled from end to end, my hands clenched into fists and I swore under my breath. I was sure that someone was watching me. Then...
Right into my ear as though I were listening to a personal stereo. A million thoughts shot through my head at one time, and all I could think to do was run. I ran towards what I thought was the opening, but I hit a wall. In the confusion of the moment, I dropped my wand. Darkness enveloped me. Then...
Right into my other ear. My spine sent feelings all over my body as though I was on fire with fear. My hair stood up on its ends, and my eyes watered. I continued to run in circles to flee the ever present voice. It kept speaking into my ears as though it were right on top of me. All I kept hearing were things like...
Another wall rushed up to meet me. Another cloud of dust in my eye.
Finally it was too much for me. I sat down, drew my knees to my chest and began to cry. I was so frightened and embarrassed at the same time. I grown wizard crying in the dark because of a ghost. I felt absolutely horrible. I thought for sure I was done for. I thought Mr. Boots had caught up with me, and I was scared. Scared, alone, afraid and wandless. That was until...
Why should I allow you to cry?
"Excuse me?" I croaked. The voice then roared back at me...
Why should you be allowed to cry? Have you lost the companion to your soul? Must you remain formless on Earth while the one you hold most dear will never be found again? WHY SHOULD YOU BE ALLOWED TO WEEP WHEN I HAVE USED UP MY TEARS!?
"I cry because you frighten me. I cry because I am alone..."
You CANNOT understand alone. I understand alone. What could you possibly know of alone?
"I cannot compare my sense to yours, and that I understand, but please. Tell me why you chase me. Tell me why my crying angers you so," I managed. My voice became more steady as I began to get the sense of this voice wanting to be heard.
I chase you because I want you gone. Your crying angers me because, as I said my tears are gone. I haven't the strength for them any longer, and that angers me. Do you have any more questions for me, hoodlum, or shall I assume you've come here to take a picture or a rubbing of the "famous" grave and set Mr. Boots to you?
"I am many things, but hoodlum is not among them, sir. By your tone I can assume you've run into this problem before," I spat as I regained my composure. Being called a hoodlum did not bode well with someone of my age, and once I realised that this was not, in fact, Mr. Boots, I regained some of my courage as well. "If you want me gone, you'll need to give me a better explanation that you can no longer cry."
You really do not have any idea who you are speaking to, do you? You do not even realise what you've stumbled upon, do you?
"Other than a very agitated ghost in a rather frightening place, no sir, I have no idea what you are talking about. I cannot imagine a 'famous' grave being in such a place," I said to the air.
I'll assume then, that you know the story of the Potters. I am James Potter. My wife was Lily Potter and our son is Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Take your wand back and light the room so that I may see you better.
I heard my wand roll towards me. It stopped at my foot, and as I lit it I realised that I was sitting directly across from the ghost of a man with messy black hair and glasses. I had found the final resting place of the Potters. I had only ever heard rumors, but now it was true. James Potter sat across from me now, and once the room was lit James realised who I was.
I don't believe it. Of all people, I never expected you to be the one to find me here. I wish I could say it made me happy to see you again, but I don't have the capacity for much joy these days. Being dead has put a serious damper on my sense of humor.
"I can see that's true to an extent, but you mustn't loose hope of never having that sense again. I mean, you're Prongs. Prongs never looses his sense of humor," I said to my friend.
Moony, you always were the optimistic one.
And that, my friend, is how I got the whole story on the Potters. Why wouldn't James tell me? The only reason I was so mum to Harry in the first place was because until that night, I truly had no idea what had happened to Lily and James after the incidents with Voldemort. Now I knew, and James had another story to tell me that night. The things that were making him nervous. Good part, this one, so sit another spell and I'll get us another drink. Too many more and I might just tell the whole thing. Back in a flash...