A/N: I wrote this very early in the morning because it popped into my head and absolutely would not leave. I'm sorry about possible grammar mistakes, but it was pretty early - I don't know. It's kind of rambly, I think? But I think I kind of like it.
Feedback is much appreciated
Disclaimer: Remus Lupin, James Potter, and the rest of the Harry Potter universe do not belong to me, sadly.
I saw Harry today, James.
He looks so much like you.
It was a big punch to the gut really. I thought it was you at first, that I was young again and we were on the train to Hogwarts. It felt real. I was even sitting in our compartment - you know, the one with the squeaky door that Sirius always complained about? The one where Peter ate the first bogey-flavored bean? The one where you first showed us the Cloak, and the lady with the candy trolley thought she went insane? I sat there, it would've felt wrong not to. I thought it would be like old times. Of course he had to sit there. I thought he was you.
But he has Lily's eyes, James. That's when I knew.
That's when I noticed the red haired boy beside him, and the girl with the frizzy hair. They weren't Sirius and Peter, and he wasn't you.
Because you're dead, James. I can't change that. No one can.
But for that one moment, I thought he was you.
But that's not possible.
He's so much like you, James.
It's a shame really - if he was more like Lily he wouldn't get into so much trouble. It would be so much easier, but he is your son. I knew it wouldn't be possible for him to not resemble you somehow.
It's ironic. He's basically a carbon copy of you. Sometimes it's hard to differentiate the two of you, but then he gets into those spells of determination, and that screams Lily. Don't get me wrong, you were plenty determined, but Harry's even got Lily's face down. It's a real deal breaker.
I know you're proud of him, James. You should be.
I only wish you could see him in person.
It hurts, James.
It hurts to see him all the time.
It hurts because he looks like you and he sounds like you and he acts like you but he isn't you and that hurts.
Why'd you have to die, James?
You should've lived, James. You should've been able to see Harry grow up, been able to help him understand, been able to teach him Quidditch (he's so good at it, by the way, just like you), been able to do all of it and more.
You should've lived.
But I can't blame you for dying, James. That wouldn't be fair. No one survives when Voldemort sets his mind to killing.
Yet Harry did.
Harry did and he grew up to be just like you and he doesn't even realize it.
And that hurts, James.
I miss you, James.
But I promise you, I'll take care of him. I'll take care of him for you. I'll take of him for Lily. For the both of you, because I know that's what you'd want.
I promise I'll tell him stories too. Not the ones like when you cried after the Cannons lost or when Lily managed to scare you into the lake, or during the First War. No, I'll tell him stories like his birth and of the Marauders and of your love for him. Only the good ones.
I'll make sure he knows you didn't want to leave.
I'll make sure he's safe.
I'll make sure he knows more about you.
I miss you, James.
I'll protect him, James.
Until the very end.
