Author's Note: Dun dun dunnnnn. Here it is, the most boring chapter ever. But I have to force myself to write this. Damn, this is sooo boring. You're welcome, darlings.
Until The Very End
Chapter Four: Loss of 16 Years
James
Sirius had returned with a group of people James knew. But why were they so old? Remus lunged for him, embracing him. He didn't care that this James could be a fake. He knew his best friend was back, somehow.
Dumbledore, the man he had idolized for years, stepped up to him. "How can you be sure this is him?" he asked cautiously to Sirius. "He changed into his Animagus form," Sirius replied easily. The Order already knew that the Marauders had been Animagus. They had to believe him now.
"James? Do you remember what happened the night Voldemort came to your house in Godric's Hollow?" Dumbledore inquired gently, kneeling in front of James's chair. James gasped. Memories hit him like a sack of potatoes. Voldemort had killed him. He remembered the green flash slamming into his chest like a brick. "I was killed. And," James choked back a sob, "so were Lily and Harry. How am I here?"
Remus came forward again. "We don't know James. But you've missed out on a lot. Let's all sit down and Padfoot, Albus, and I can fill you in," Remus suggested. James eyed him. "How long has it been?"
Remus sighed. "Prongs, it's been fourteen years since you died." James exploded. "Fourteen years? Bloody hell, NO!" Remus placed a calm hand on his friend's shoulder. "We'll make this part quick so we can get to the important stuff," Sirius promised.
The Order settled around Sirius's living room. "Alright, I'll start from after that Halloween. After Peter's betrayal, I ran after him. He was on a street full of Muggles. I screamed at him for a while, before the coward blew up the street, cut off his finger, and turned into a rat. I, of course, laughed. I...Prongs, I was accused of betraying you to Voldemort and...and I was sent to Azkaban," Sirius began. James just stared. "I escaped three years ago. James...Prongs, I'm so sorry for suggesting to switch Secret Keepers, it was all my fault," Sirius said.
"Sirius Orion Black."
Sirius looked up at James. "It was never your fault. I'm so sorry you had to spend all this time in Azkaban for Peter's decision."
"This is all touching, but we have other matters to discuss," Moody snarled impatiently. James rolled his eyes. "Ever the sentimental one, Alastor," Remus replied dryly. Moody grunted.
"And James...you should know that you have a son," Sirius managed to say.
"W-What?"
"Harry is alive. See, after killing you and Lily, Voldemort sent a Killing Curse at him, but because LIly sacrificed herself for him, the curse rebounded, and caused Voldemort to vanish for thirteen years until he returned. Harry lived, and was sent to live with those horrible Dursleys. James, you have to know this. The Dursleys abused Harry. They kept him in a cupboard under the stairs for a decade, and rarely fed him. Vernon would beat him daily. But since Padfoot was in Azkaban, Harry had nowhere else to go, according to Albus," Remus explained ruefully, hating his lycanthropy more than ever.
James's eyes bulged. "My son's alive?! He's alive! Oh, Harry, you're alive! OH my son, my son, my Harry, he's alive!" He cried. Sirius and Remus watched in amusement as James cried with happiness. "But he was abused."
"My son was abused, because of the home you put him in?" James demanded, angry now. He advanced on Dumbledore, who calmly said, "It was for the best, James. Let us continue please."
"My son. What is he like? What does he look like? Does he play Quidditch? What house is he in? When can I see him?" James was hyper now. Harry was alive and well.
"Relax, Prongsie. We have more to tell you." And with that, the Order told James Potter everything there was to know about the famous Harry Potter.
James watched Harry in amazement. He had never seen anyone play Quidditch like that.
Sirius and Remus had, after telling James about Harry, brought him to the Ministry, where Fudge reluctantly declared Sirius free, as James was proof that Sirius was innocent. In addition, Sirius received over a million Galleons for compensation.
They had then informed James that Harry was captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and they would be attending the match tomorrow. "My son is Quidditch captain!" James exclaimed, pride radiating from the long dead man.
James was pulled out of his reverie when the announcer boomed, "Look at Potter! Why's he got his hand tucked away?"
James scanned the stadium for his son, and when his eyes fell on him, he gasped. Harry...there were no words for it. He was beautiful. And he looked exactly like his father. Like James. The same mop of dark, messy hair fell over his eyes. Lily's eyes. Emeralds that sparkled with wonder, love, and bravery. James then noticed Harry's right arm. He held it protectively against his chest, as if it was injured. James growled; whoever had hurt his precious son would die.
James was furious. Furious at Voldemort for taking away his Lily, for not allowing him to see his son grow up, not allowing him to stop all the misfortune that had befallen Harry, as he'd heard yesterday. But he was grateful to whoever gave him a second chance.
As the match progressed, James saw...was that Malfoy's son? Oh, yes. He'd heard Lucius and Narcissa had had a baby boy, Draco, a few months before they'd had Harry. James curled his lip in disgust. The blonde Slytherin was just like his father, from what he could tell.
Draco pushed Harry, and James hissed under his breath. He heard Sirius and Remus trying to calm him down, although they were angry too. "Sorry. I just get so protective when it comes to...Harry."
The Potter boy was almost directly above them, reaching for the fluttering Snitch. Harry...James watched as his son, who was now about fifteen, reach for the Golden SNitch...when a Bludger hit him in the arm that was apparently injured. "HARRY!" Sirius thundered. Harry tumbled downwards, and James cried out. "Harry!"
Harry slowly got up, and James sighed in relief. He held up the Snitch, as the announcer announced Harry's arm situation. Harry rolled his eyes and growled back, "Really Lee? Must you announce everything?"
James chuckled as Lee declared Gryffindor's victory, sheepish, and a group of people gathered around Harry. "C'mon, Prongs, time to go meet your son," Sirius said, leading James down to the pitch.
"Ye were great, 'Arry. Really, I don' know how ye did that, but it was 'mazing," Hagrid cheered. James smiled at that as they walked behind the half-giant, hidden from view. A pretty girl with blond-ish hair hugged him tightly. "We need to get you to the hospital wing," she breathed to his son. James nodded, he would make sure his son got to Madame Pomfrey. A red-haired boy, who James guessed was one of the Weasleys, slung an arm around Harry's shoulders. "Sheesh, Hermione, calm down. Harry still has to praise his favorite team mate still. I'm waiting, Potter," the Weasley joked. Harry laughed.
James spoke up. "Harry Potter."
The crowd moved away, so James could see his son up close, in the flesh.
"…Dad?"
Author's Note: I know. This chapter was rushed, short, and emotionless. I just hate writing boring chapters. Next one is even MORE boring, so wish me luck.