Chapter 3

"What the…?" James Potter had a confused expression on his face as he looked around him. It was the sort of face someone might have portrayed when they stood up to fight the most evil dark wizard the world had ever known, only to realise they had left their wand on the living room sofa. In fact that was precisely what James Potter had done and he was now standing in the middle of a field wondering what the hell had happened.

Lying on the grass nearby was his wand, almost as if he had left it there a moment before, just ready to be picked up again. Close by it was a broomstick, not his own broom, but one that he had salivated over back when he was at school. It had been the broom that everyone wanted, and one of the few things his parents had denied him…just because he'd had a new broom only a month before. But there it was, waiting for him.

He looked around him and realised that he was standing in the middle of a Quidditch pitch, and not just any Quidditch pitch, one that he had imagined standing in when he was back at school. One that he had imagined into a painting in the Room of Requirement.

He turned round and saw that behind him there was a large frame, stretching from the ground to just above his head and spanning the width of his outstretched arms. Through the frame he could see the room of requirement, just as he remembered it.

"I'm dead?" James said. "Well, that sucks!"

Slowly the memories of what had happened came back to him, not in a flood as one might expect, but almost like one remembers a dream.

It was a full ten minutes before he remembered Lily and Harry and he wondered what had happened to them. For the first time he wondered about the sense of the spell they had cast. It was all right for Remus and Sirius, they had each other to spend eternity with, but Lily was either still alive or truly dead, and either way she was well and truly out of his reach.

"It wasn't Remus," James said with a sigh. He frowned and glared at the painting of the inn on the other side of the room. "Just wait until that little rat shows up here," he growled. "He'll get one of my antlers right up his arse."

That thought brought to mind that James actually had no idea whether he could transform in the painting or not, but a quick test proved that he could.

James sat down on the grass near the edge of his painting and looked carefully into the room that they had designed to house their portraits.

On the opposite wall he could see the inn that Peter had chosen and Sirius's bedchamber – he was sure the git had set it up like that on purpose. He couldn't see Remus's library, but he recalled that it was to his right on the same wall his own painting was mounted on.

The room itself was brightly lit with several large beanbag type cushions on the floors, perfectly situated for any visitors they chose to allow into their hidden sanctuary – and only the most worthy of pranksters would be allowed within.

There was also a large trunk with a supply of unused pranking materials hidden inside. There wasn't much because they had used up most of their supplies, but there were a few things that they had just not had the time to set off. Remus had also left a duplicate Marauders' Map in the trunk, with instructions for how to update it if the school had changed substantially by the time they passed it on to someone.

Everything was ready, but James couldn't help but feel that he should not have been there quite so soon.

On the bright side, he wouldn't be alone for long. He knew that Sirius would be tracking down Peter right now and it wouldn't be too long before a second painting was occupied.

"Any minute now," James muttered, watching the inn intently. "Any minute."

James waited…and waited…and waited.

Soon it became clear that Peter Pettigrew wasn't appearing any time soon.

"He'll have gone to grovel his apologies to Remus," James suddenly stated, for the first time worrying that talking to himself was not a good sign. "Instead of tracking down the little traitor and avenging my murder, he's probably off somewhere getting laid by his sex-mad werewolf boyfriend."

James had worked himself up into a fine temper and to make the first day of his afterlife complete it started to rain.

"Rain? In a painting?" James swore and ran for the wooden bleachers, ducking underneath them as the sky turned black and the rain poured down.

An hour later, James realised that he wasn't really thinking properly. Of course his own painting was outside, but the other three were all rooms within buildings. All he had to do was go into Remus's painting next door and wait for the rain to stop. He stepped out from under the bleachers and looked towards what he remembered to be the edge of the painting.

"So, how does this work?" he asked himself as he walked towards the edge. Did you just step through into the next painting? Or did it require a spell to be cast as well? That possibility was something that had occurred to them before they had conjured up their paintings, and it was for that precise reason that they had each made sure to include their wands in the pictures. But where was the next painting?

James looked around but could see nothing that looked like a doorway or portal to another painting.

"Surely it can't be that hard to find?" James muttered.

Eventually he decided that just walking in the general direction of Remus's painting should produce some results, and hopefully he should arrive in it without too much effort.

James walked…and walked…and walked…and found himself right back where he had started.

"I did not just walk in a circle." James glared out into the room for a second or two, then he tried walking in the opposite direction, with exactly the same result.

Clearly something had gone wrong with the spell, and he had no idea how to fix it. If there was an answer, he was sure he would find it in Remus's library, but how could he get there?

James pointed his wand in the right direction and tried 'accio books' but nothing came flying towards him. He tried 'accio broom' and the broomstick flew from the grass and into his waiting hand. It seemed that spells only worked within his own painting and he was very limited on what he could do.

Suddenly an eternity living on a Quidditch pitch didn't seem like such a great idea. He looked out of the frame once more and cast a longing glance at Sirius's bedchamber.

"Never thought I'd live to see the day when I'd want to climb into Padfoot's bed," James commented to himself. "Oh, wait a minute…I didn't live to see it, did I?"

-o-xXx-o-

The days blended together and still there was no sign of any of the other Marauders joining him. James spent his time alternating between honing his Quidditch skills and testing the limitations of what he could do in the confines of the painting.

He soon found out that magic worked within the painting, but no further. Although he could see into the Room of Requirement he couldn't summon anything from there to himself.

Something that took much longer for him to realise was that he could control the weather in his painting…or at least he could control it for as long as he could control his emotions. Anger produced lightning and storms as he had experienced during his first days in the painting. Calmer thoughts and remembering happier times brought out the sunshine. Worry made the day overcast, but seldom produced rain. It took James a long time to realise this, and even longer to control it.

Days stretched into weeks, weeks into months and months into years.

James however, had no way of knowing how much time had passed. It seemed like years, but in his painting of perpetual daylight he had no way of knowing for sure.

He wondered if his friends had found a way of stopping the spell from working. Perhaps Sirius had decided to try to find a way to stop Peter from joining them, and in doing so had prevented himself and Remus from appearing in their own paintings. But surely if that was the case they would have come to see him in his own painting to let him know?

James had no idea what had happened, and although he was the only Marauder with a painting that wasn't confined to a single room, he had never felt so trapped in his life.

Then, one day - or night, it was impossible to tell - there came sounds from within the Room of Requirement.

James hurried to the frame, curious to know who could have found their way into the room. They had assumed that only someone who knew about this specific incarnation of the room would be able to get into it. Had they been wrong about that too?

James looked out into the room and saw a long-haired, dirty, dishevelled and quite frankly odious looking man, collapsing onto the beanbags.

"Oi!" James called out. "How did you get in here?"

"Give us a minute, Prongs!" the man asked, his voice sounding breathless, as though he had been running.

"Prongs?" James whispered. It was a name he hadn't heard in years, not even from his own lips. "Padfoot?"

"Who else?" Sirius replied with a snort. "Unless you've got your own little cult following from your life as a portrait?"

"Hardly," James said. "Nice of you to stop by and say hello. Though, if you don't mind my saying, you took your bloody time about it and you look like hell."

"So would you if you'd been on the run from prison for months," Sirius retorted.

"Prison?" James asked, chuckling slightly. "What did you do? Get caught shagging Moony somewhere public at last?"

Sirius sat up at that and stared at James with a confused expression on his face. "You didn't bother to find out what had happened after you kicked the bucket?"

"Not really had the chance to," James replied, explaining how he was trapped within the painting and had had no contact with anyone at all.

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at his battered shoes. "Guess I should explain to you what happened," he offered, although not particularly enthusiastically. By the time he had finished, James knew why.

"So, Peter's running around the school as a rat?" James asked.

"Yeah, I need to try to find him and explain to Harry what happened and…What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You gave me a look," Sirius accused.

"I was just thinking."

"Thinking what?"

"Nothing."

"Oh, no you don't. Come on, out with it!"

"Well, I was just thinking that if you're going to go see my son, you might want to tidy yourself up a bit first."

Sirius looked down at his clothes sheepishly and rubbed his bristly jaw.

"No offence, mate," James continued. "But you look like crap."

"Maybe I can get the room to produce some more suitable clothes," Sirius mused.

"Maybe I should get the room to do it for you?" James suggested with a smirk, even though he could not do what he suggested. "I still remember some of those hideous outfits you wore as a teenager. You don't want to go traumatising your Godson, do you?"

"Traumatise him?" Sirius echoed. "Anyone would think I intended to go pay him a visit dressed in some kinky outfit I got from that shop in Soho."

"I still remember the day I flooed over to your place and you were wearing nothing but women's underwear," James pointed out. "That you think that is suitable clothing to wear around the flat gives me no hope that you'll manage to dress yourself suitably now."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I told you at the time, it was a surprise for Remus."

"Sure it was," James replied with a smirk. "So, how is Moony anyway?"

"Don't know."

"What do you mean? When was the last time you saw him?"

"To speak to?"

"Of course to speak to."

"That night Lily cooked dinner for us all."

"What?"

"That night Lily cooked for all of us. That was the last time I saw him. I stormed out after that fight we had and had moved all my stuff out of the flat before he came home. Not seen him since."

James rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "You're telling me that you haven't spoken to him since then?"

"That's right."

"You haven't apologised to him for what you said…not to mention the stuff you didn't say, but thought anyway."

"I've not seen him at all. He's probably found another bloke by now anyway. Everyone thinks I'm a murderer, including Remus."

"Padfoot?" James waited for Sirius to look at him directly before he continued. "You're a flaming imbecile."

"What?"

"You heard me. You doubt Moony, who you claimed to love, and when you find out the truth you don't even go and apologise to him."

"Thought you'd want me to track down the little rat first, take care of business and then go see my ex."

James flushed as he recalled his thoughts about Sirius having done the exact opposite. "Well, yeah, but not if you were going to take more than a decade about it."

"He's teaching here at Hogwart's," Sirius told him. "I saw him in the distance once."

"Moony's here?" James asked.

"Yeah."

"And he's not been to visit me?"

"Maybe you were asleep?"

James snorted with derision and shook his head. "Stuck in the same painting for twelve years and my best mate stuck in prison. What are the odds?"

Sirius chuckled. "You mind if I get some sleep before I go back on the run?"

"Nah, you look like you need it."

"Do you get tired?" Sirius asked as he stretched out on the beanbags.

"No, nor hungry," James replied. "Just bored."

"Moony will fix it," Sirius told him between wide yawns. "You'll have the run of the school soon."

James replied that he hoped so, but Sirius was already fast asleep.

-o-xXx-o-

James didn't know what had happened, but Sirius didn't come back to visit him again, and neither did Remus. This time he hoped that they were curled up in bed together, and that nothing else bad had happened, but an uneasy feeling had settled in his gut and the overcast sky was a constant presence.

Months went by and eventually the door opened once more.

"Padfoot?" James asked, flying down to the ground to greet the visitor.

"Sorry," Remus replied. "It's just me."

"Moony!" James exclaimed. "It's good to see you again. Why haven't you visited before? Padfoot told me you were teaching here. What's it like? What have you been doing for the past twelve years? Are you and Sirius back together? Has he apologised yet?"

"Whoa," Remus interrupted with a chuckle. "One question at a time."

James laughed and settled down on the grass. "I'm all ears."

"Oh, they're not that bad," Remus replied. "The messy hair almost covers them."

"Git!"

Remus laughed and sat down on one of the beanbags, not realising that it was the same one Sirius had sat on during his own visit. "Why haven't I been here before? I kept expecting to see you or Peter in one of the paintings around the school. I was dreading it. I wanted to come here and get it over with, but I didn't know whether I'd be welcome here."

"What? Why?"

"I know that Sirius thought I was the traitor," Remus explained. "He never said it outright, but he didn't have to. After that night, I thought he was the traitor. But I didn't know if you and Peter thought I was in it with him. I didn't know you were on your own here. I thought Peter was with you."

"But now you know the truth?"

"Yes. Sirius caught up with Peter last night and I caught up with both of them."

"So, Sirius has cleared his name?"

"Not exactly, Peter got away again. I know the truth now, as does your son and his friends too, but he's still an escaped convict. Dumbledore's doing his best to sort things out – I think he believes us too – but without Peter it is merely the words of three teenagers and an unemployed werewolf."

"Unemployed?"

"Word of my condition got out this morning. I've handed in my notice." Remus shrugged as though it was of little consequence. "It was good while it lasted, and I enjoyed getting to know Harry. His patronus is a stag, you know?"

"Really?" James grinned widely.

"Yeah. Thought you'd like that."

"So, you broke the curse of the Defence post then?"

"No, what makes you think that?"

"When Sirius visited he said it was Harry's third year and you were teaching then. If he's conjuring a patronus he can't be just thirteen."

"Can't he?"

"He can produce a fully formed patronus at thirteen?" James was astounded and if he hadn't already been sitting down, he would certainly have fallen.

"He's like his Dad, very talented. Now, what about the rest of your questions? What have I been doing for the last twelve years? Surviving. Are Sirius and I back together? We've not really had a chance to talk yet. Has he apologised? Have you ever heard Padfoot apologise for anything?"

"Yes. Once."

"Those were extreme circumstances," Remus pointed out.

"So was believing you to be a traitor," James countered.

Remus was quiet for a long time. "He doesn't have to apologise," he finally said. "I don't need to hear the words; I know how sorry he is."

"Merlin, you're still as sappy as ever," James muttered. "So, you're leaving Hogwart's?"

"In about an hour."

"So, you won't be coming to visit me again?"

"I doubt it."

"Don't suppose you have any ideas about why I can't get out of my painting?" James asked.

"Not really," Remus admitted. "I didn't even realise you were trapped in here until Sirius told me after he was captured again."

"Wait a minute! He's been captured again? I thought you said he was still on the run?"

"He is. Harry broke him out and he flew off on Buckbeak."

"Buckbeak?"

"One of Hagrid's pets," Remus explained, filling a rather confused James in on the events of the night before.

Eventually though, Remus had to leave, although he promised that if he discovered the reason why James was trapped in a single painting, he would return immediately.

James sat back on the grass and settled down to wait once more.

-o-xXx-o-

Time passed by and James grew more and more frustrated with his lonely existence. What was the fun of being a portrait in the school if he was stuck in the same painting and unable to interact with anyone?

He was having a particularly long moan to himself when something caught his attention in the Room of Requirement.

Thinking it was Sirius or Remus returning to visit him, he rushed to his frame, eager for conversation with someone other than himself.

However, this time there was no light from the doorway, only a strange looking mist covering Sirius's painting.

"What the hell?" James muttered, peering as closely as he could in order to see what was happening.

Slowly the mist cleared and Sirius appeared in his frame.

"Padfoot!" James called, waving wildly.

Sirius turned around and walked to the edge of his own frame.

"Bloody hell!" James swore.

"What?" Sirius asked, jumping back slightly at James's exclamation.

"You're young again," James replied. "You look like you did back in seventh year."

"I do?" Sirius rushed to the wardrobe and pulled open the door, revealing a full length mirror. "Wow, I look good!"

"Conceited much?" James teased. "Why didn't I get to be young again?"

Sirius turned back to James, looking at him closely. "Actually, I think you are. I never noticed before, probably because there wasn't much of a difference, only a few years. But with me it's…" He turned back to the mirror and continued preening.

"Er…Padfoot?"

Sirius didn't turn round. "Hmm?"

"I hate to tear you away from ogling yourself, but what happened to you?"

"I died," Sirius replied, grabbing a brush from the bedside table and fixing his hair.

James swore under his breath. "I gathered that much. How?"

"Went down fighting of course. Bellatrix, you remember her? Total psycho! I fell through the veil in the Department of Mysteries while duelling her."

"Well, what did you do a stupid thing like that for?" James asked. "Wait a minute? Was Remus there?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"You were checking out his arse, weren't you?"

"In the middle of a duel? What do you take me for?"

"A besotted fool."

Sirius laughed and stretched out on his bed so that he was facing James. "He forgave me, you know?"

"Doesn't he always?" James said.

"My poor Moony," Sirius sighed. "How's he going to carry on without me?"

"He managed it for twelve years."

"Don't remind me. He's going to be distraught."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. He knows he'll see you again."

"You don't think he'll commit suicide do you?"

"Moony?" James shook his head. "Don't dramatise things. He'll be fine and he'll turn up here one day, years and years from now."

"Years?" Sirius whispered. "I don't want to wait years for him. What if he finds another bloke between now and then?"

"Did he when you were in prison?"

"I didn't ask."

"Why not?"

"I prefer to think of him pining over me than shagging someone else."

"Padfoot, did anyone ever tell you that you can be a bit selfish?"

Sirius huffed and sighed again. "He'll be here in about a week, just you wait and see."

James rolled his eyes and stretched out on the grass. A part of him hoped that Remus did appear soon, because Sirius was going to drive him mad if he didn't.

-o-xXx-o-

Once Sirius had accepted the truth, that Remus wasn't going to appear almost immediately, he began to fill James in on everything that had happened. Eventually, they turned to the pleasant topic of just what they were going to do to Peter when he turned up, a discussion that lasted several months.

They were busy contemplating how hard it would be to disembowel him with the few belongings they had thought to put into their paintings when the rat in question appeared.

Like the others, he appeared to be eighteen years old, but the expression on his face was that of someone who was much older.

He looked at James in terror, waiting for him and Sirius to rush into his frame and attack him.

Unlike them, Peter of course had no idea that he was trapped in the single painting.

"You think we should get him now, or wait until he's asleep?" Sirius asked conversationally.

"I don't know," James replied seriously. "I don't know which would be more satisfying. Perhaps we should let him stew a while."

Sirius grinned evilly, not that Peter could see him.

James smirked back at him. Now they could have some fun.

-o-xXx-o-

The tormenting of Peter Pettigrew soon got rather tiresome, especially when the treacherous little rat figured out that they couldn't touch him. His response was to begin his own slow tormenting of Sirius.

"No sign of Moony then?" he asked.

"Don't call him that," Sirius called back. "You've no right to use that name."

"Can't say I'm surprised he's not here. He's been very busy recently."

"Fighting Death Eaters like you."

"And other things."

"He'll be here soon, then he'll use that wonderful library of his to figure out a way for us to get to you."

"I hear that your cousin is about to become a grandmother," Peter commented idly.

Sirius ignored him.

"Young Tonks, you remember her?" He didn't wait for a reply. "Going to give birth any day now, from what I heard. Might already have done."

"I'm sure that Moony will tell us all the news when he gets here," Sirius declared. "Don't feel you have to tell us anything, or even speak!"

"Oh, but I want to tell you," Peter replied in mock sweetness. "So, were you and Moony getting along all right before your untimely demise?"

"I told you before, don't call him that!" Sirius yelled. "You've no right to use that name any more."

"Did I hit a nerve?" Peter asked. "Were things not too good between you at the end?"

"Things were bloody great for us! Not that it's got anything to do with you."

"So, you were satisfying him then? You know, in bed?"

"I don't have to listen to this crap," Sirius muttered. James watched as he pulled his bed curtains closed and he didn't need to see him to tell that he had used his wand to cast a spell to shut out the sounds of Peter's snide remarks.

James only wished that he could do the same.

-o-xXx-o-

The wait for Remus to arrive turned out to be the shortest of all, and Sirius watched as a mist formed in the painting of the library, revealing Remus as it slowly evaporated.

"Moony!" he called, but Remus didn't seem to hear him.

Sirius watched as Remus ran out of his painting, right into James's and out the other side.

"What the hell?" he gasped. "How did he do that?"

"Look!" James exclaimed, pointing to his right.

Sirius leaned forward to see what James was pointing at, but could see nothing from the angle.

"It's like another frame," James said with excitement. "Only it leads to another painting instead."

Sirius looked to his own right and left and saw that he too had other frames on either side. The one on his left showed the way to Peter's inn, and although it was exceedingly tempting to run into that one and pummel the rat to pieces, Remus had just shot out of the other side of James's frame and didn't seem to be appearing in his own.

Ordinarily, Sirius would have been a little insulted at that, but he knew Remus well enough to realise that it meant that something important was happening in Hogwart's.

The painting to his right showed the way out of the Room of Requirement and Sirius raced through it, wondering which way Remus had gone.

James was right behind him as he tried to get his bearings. "Someone's been moving the paintings around since we were in school," he complained.

"I don't think so," James replied. "It's just weird seeing the school from this perspective."

"Oi!" an elderly wizard complained as the two young men pushed past him as they hurried through the various paintings.

"Sorry!" James called back, right before barrelling into a couple of witches who were out picking flowers in a painted meadow.

Sirius ran as fast as he could and finally caught up with Remus in a painting in the Entrance Hall. "Fuck!" he swore when he saw what had happened.

The battle was still raging and in the distance Sirius could see a horrifying familiar body lying on the floor. He reached for Remus's hand and squeezed it. "You're with me now," he whispered.

Remus squeezed Sirius's hand in response. Then he twisted their hands slightly and frowned down at then. "That's odd," he said.

"What?" Sirius asked.

"It's gone."

"Gone? What's gone?"

"My ring."

"You've never worn a ring," Sirius whispered. "I think you're still a bit confused from dying."

"No, it was right there." Remus turned back to the battle, cringing slightly when a stray spell got a little too close for comfort.

Sirius too turned back to the battle and soon spotted the familiar face of Nymphadora Tonks. "I knew the little rat was lying," he muttered.

"What's that?" James asked from behind them.

"See that young woman fighting Bellatrix?" Sirius explained. "That's Tonks, Andromeda's daughter. Peter said she was about to have a kid. Yeah, right. Looks like she's recently given birth, doesn't she? Lying little –"

Sirius felt his words die in his mouth as he watched Bellatrix murder the young woman, but his reaction was nothing compared to that of Remus.

"NO!" screamed Remus, tearing his hand from Sirius's grasp and pounding on the invisible barrier that separated them from the real world.

Sirius watched as Remus sank to his knees and let loose a single sob.

He knelt down beside him and pulled him into his arms. "Hey, it's all right. I'm okay. There's no need to be so upset for me. I know she was my cousin's daughter, but I didn't know her for that long and we weren't that close."

"It's not that," Remus whispered.

"Then what is it?" Sirius asked. "Did you see someone else you know out there?" He turned back to the room and tried to spot any familiar faces, realising belatedly that Remus would have taught many of the students who were fighting out there. "I'm sorry, Moony. I'm so sorry."

"You don't understand," Remus accused. "You don't understand who she was."

"She? You mean Tonks?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean? She was my cousin. Of course I knew her. She was a member of the Order and a great Auror. A good witch and a loyal friend."

"She was something else too," Remus said quietly.

"Yes?"

"My wife."

Sirius blinked a couple of times, sure that he'd misheard. "I'm sorry, what?"

-

A/N: Of course I will be explaining next chapter how they are now about to move around the school. I would not leave a plot hole like that there. There is an explanation. Also, I hope this chapter was not too depressing. I tried to keep it as light as possible, but that is easier said than done when you are killing off the marauders in it.

Oh, and I will reply to everyone's reviews. I just figured people would prefer an update whilst I am inspired rather than a reply. I'll reply to everyone by the end of the weekend though. In the meantime, thanks for all your kind comments.