Edward Potter was having a no good, very bad day.

That morning, he toppled out of bed at an untoward hour of the morning hoping to find a cup of steaming coffee and maybe some sausage, but finding a room swarming with aggravated owls. He spent a good half an hour chasing them down and sustained a bad bite from a barn owl. His wife, Ivy Potter, chastised him for the owl droppings scattered across the table and ordered that the house elves refuse to make him breakfast. He had to grab a pick me up from the leaky cauldron, burnt toast and some extremely weak coffee. He might have had the eggs as well, except they were runny and scampered around the plate when he tried to stab them with a fork.

Next, he met up with some colleagues to discuss a ministry fiasco involving a muggle contraption running rabid around a department and several squirrel-lion breeding experiments gone awry. Several janitors and an Unspeakable were in St. Mungo's with second degree burns and those what-do-you-call-them, staples, stuck in their arms.

He went into office, just for a moment (though it may have turned into three hours - where does the time go?) to smooth over some details for a M.o.M. gala that needed to be arranged. That was when Ivy floo-called.

"Where are you? We were supposed to be at King's Cross fifteen minutes ago! Our poor son is probably worried sick! You had best apparate to the house right now, or I swear I will-"

He was out of his seat before she had a chance to finish her threats. Ivy nagged him all the way to the barrier ("You're so caught up in your work you don't notice anything else!") but fell quiet at the sight of the crowd.

The parents of the Hogwarts students returning home for the break were clustered, bewildered, outside of the brick wall between Platforms 9 and 10. Edward spotted some people he knew, including the Lupins (the parents of his son's best friend who he was quite fond of), the Blacks (Edward decided that he could avoid that confrontation-on a good day Walburga was unpleasant, on a bad day she resembled an enraged manticore) and the Pettigrews (he knew James was good friends with their boy though he did not know them well).

Ivy barreled through the crowd until she reached Mrs. Lupin.

"What's happening, Mary?" she whispered to her friend, glancing around the station. The muggles were openly gaping at them.

Mary Lupin shook her head, clutching her husband's arm with white knuckles. "I don't know. They say the barrier is closed off. Oh, I hope our kids are okay."

John Lupin patted her on the arm, seemingly at ease. "I'm sure they're fine, Mary."

Edward pinched the bridge of his nose; he could feel a migraine coming on.

Of course, John Lupin was utterly wrong. On the reverse side of the barrier, everything was absolutely not fine. As soon as he realized what was happening, James leapt into action, bellowing orders like a drill sergeant.

"Everyone back on the train! Drop everything and hurry, we need to get back!" James, Lily, and company spread out, herding the others back onto the Hogwarts Express. The students were pushing and shoving, trying to force their way back onto the train. In the effort to get to safety people were smashed against the red metal side by the insistent crowd.

Some of the older students had taken to dueling with the Deatheaters. Sirius heard one of them shrieking with unmitigated joy. It was a crazed manic cackle that was so familiar it was almost ingrained in his memory.

Bellatrix.

Bella, his cousin. Bella Black, nay, Lestrange. She had recently married and his mother, her Aunty Walburga, expected Bella and her spouse to produce lovely pureblood children. It made him want to retch.

He barreled through the crowd, heading straight for the laughter. Others tried to push him back to the train but he knocked them out of the way. Everything had a reddish aura and there was a curious ringing in his ear, liking from one of those muggle devices, one of those telly-things. Then he saw her: tall, statuesque, robed in black with her long plait dangling over her shoulder. Bellatrix ripped her mask off and threw it aside, grinning maliciously.

"Aww, it's the itty-bitty Blood-traitor. Does ickle-Siri want to play?"

A flash of light flew from the tip of her wand. Sirius darted to the side. It soared by his right ear.

"What will poor Belly say when the Blood-traitor kicks her arse?" Sirius snarled. He sent a jinx her way, which she deflected.

With that exchange the duel began. Lestrange held nothing back, flinging unforgivables and equally excruciating curses at him. Sirius dodged and wove around them, shooting hex after hex her way. The tile floor became heated and cracked beneath their feet and everyone else became irrelevant, invisible. They were equals (Sirius would never admit that Bella may have been a tad more talented). Bangs and jets of smoke made his ears pop and his eyes sting with tears.

"Is that the best you've got?" Sirius threw back his head and let loose a bark of laughter: big mistake. A stream of silver flame leapt from Bellatrix's wand aimed straight for his heart. Sirius saw it shoot forward as if in slow motion and in that second, he thought of shooting stars.

Suddenly James was there, a blur of black robes and ruffled hair, shoving him out of the way. Sirius watched in horror as the deadly curse sent his best mate flying. James arced through the air, suspended for minutes like a marionette dangling, limp, from its strings. Then, the strings were cut and James fell to the floor with a final-sounding thud.

Someone was screaming.

"Nooooooo!"

It sounded like someone was being tortured.

Oh, it was him.

Sirius scampered towards his friend, feeling the Black family locket banging against his chest. He could feel someone watching him. Looking up, he saw Reg, his brother leaning against the wall, calm as anything. Sirius felt a pang of rage. With shaking hands, he ripped the locket off, breaking the clasp, and hurled it at Regulus.

"Take it! You're no longer my brother! This is no longer my family! You are now the Black family heir!" the locket bounced off Reg's forehead leaving a heart-shaped dent between his eyebrows.

Sirius turned back to his friend, his brother. James lay sprawled on the tiles with his glasses askew and his lips curled in a smile. He might have just fallen asleep. Sirius gently straightened the circular glasses and wiped a trickle of blood away from the corner of James' mouth. Then, he leaned forward and pressed his ear to James' chest.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

James' heart trilled in his chest and breath whistled unsteadily from his mouth. Sirius sighed in relief. He was alive.

"Padfoot, what are you doing?" Remus shouted. "Get on the train!"

"I need help with James." Nearly everyone who wasn't dead had climbed onto the great red train. Remus and a couple of Hufflepuffs hurried over to help him with James'. As they sprang onto the train and shut the door, as they collapsed to the floor with James at the center, and as the train began to chug away, Sirius had one terrible thought, and he thought it over and over again.

What if James was dead?