There he was.
He had fallen apparently, one leg out with the other tucked under his knee, his arms lying loosely at his sides, head propped up against the corner. Harry—wand out and looking murderous—stood over him, breathing heavily.
He is in the same corner of the Shack, lying the same way as when James found out that he had told Snape how to get here. Harry, his eyes closed now, and his hair covering his scar, is standing just where James stood.
I wonder if he remembers.
He opens his mouth, but no words come. Finally, after what seems to me a long time, a hoarse voice breaks the silence.
"Are you going to kill me, J- … Harry?"
He does remember. He said that to James, and he nearly said it again.
"I would dearly like to," says Harry.
The breath is torn from my throat. Harry had unwittingly quoted his father, word for word, inflection for inflection.
It is hard for me to watch this.
It's probably worse for him.