The Headmaster's Office

                                    

                                          
James caught Minerva McGonagall up at the stone gargoyles. The pause to tell them about the Headmaster's fondness of cherry licorice was the time that James needed to sprint after her, and he managed to force his way in the door before it slid closed, just steps behind her on the rotating staircase beyond.
                          
"Mr. Potter!" McGonagall said in surprise, "You ought to be downstairs, in the Great Hall with your friends, not --"
                          
"Marauding about the castle?" James filled in.
                          
McGonagall stopped, her jaw quivering, the stress of the unknown of what was happening too great, the argument was completely gone from her. She set her jaw with frustration and snuffed and turned, fighting to keep the tears back behind her eyelids, which fluttered quickly at the job of it. "You ought not to be here is my point, Mr. Potter."
                          
James said, "Yes, well, I'm in the middle of doing a lot of things that I ought not to be doing, but ignoring the fact that one of my favorite people in the world is near to tears is not one of those things."
                          
"I'm not near to tears..." McGonagall lied. She stared resolutely upward as the staircase carried them higher and higher in the tunnel.
                          
"What's the matter, Minnie? Did something happen?" James asked. "Is Urquart alright?"
                          
The mention of his name brought a rush of emotion to Minerva's throat.  She gulped it back and answered, "I am... sure... that Elphie -- Mr. Urquart, I mean -- is quite alright. He knows how to hold his own. I've seen him before. I know what he's capable of."
                          
James said, "So there is something going on, then."
                          
"I didn't say that."
                          
"You said he knows how to hold his own. Hold his own against what, then, if there's nothing going on?"
                          
McGonagall stared at James rather coldly for a long moment, then she shook her head. "You're too young Potter."
                          
"I'm in my seventh year - the second half of it, no less. Next year I plan to begin auror training, if the facility will have me..." James argued, "I'm not a little kid anymore, Minnie. I've held my own, as you say, against You Know Who loads of times already." His eyes darkened. "Don't you believe in me, Minnie?"
                          
"It isn't a matter of if I believe in you!" McGonagall's voice was sharp, and she stared at him with disapproval and her jaw shook as she continued, "The last time we let a young boy who could hold his own join the Resistance when he was not yet graduated, that boy never did graduate. That boy was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. That boy, Mr. Potter, was Derek Bell."
                          
"I'm not Derek," James said firmly. Then, "But if you don't want to tell me what's going on, that's perfectly fine, Professor. The Order has our own operation going on right now, I honestly don't have time for whatever it is the Resistance is up to about now, so I'll just --" and he feigned at turning, knowing that she'd stop him, which she did, catching his jumper by the elbow with a speed that made him suddenly understand some of the old photographs they'd found of her in Quidditch robes. James looked at her fingers closed 'round his arm, and then back up at her, amusement teasing his lips. "Professor?"
                          
They'd readed the top of the stair well. McGonagall's eyes were piercing. "What operation does the Order have going on right now?" she asked sternly.
                          
James weighed his options, then, "We're capturing Voldemort."
                          
"Capturing --," McGonagall's voice faltered before she said the name, but the verb she repeated doubtfully.
                          
James nodded. "We've got men on the inside of his current operations and we're about to port key him off to our own controlled location, where a whole lot of our members are waiting and ready. It's similar to the plan Sirius concocted in first year except it's got an element of surprise, and to boot we're all older and know better than to hit him with our wands lit like sparklers... We're grown, and everyone involved has stronger powers than all five of us combined had in first year... and there's a second part, a sort of back-up plan, I suppose... and ...."