Sirius was sitting at the table waiting for them, that same stupid guilty look hanging over his face.
When he saw James though, everything shifted for just a moment, he looked at him like he was holy, something precious and sacred. The weight of that look settled heavily in his gut.
James blinked, and the expression was gone.
"Everything okay then, Potters?" Sirius said, his voice deliberately light.
"Oh, fine, people's dead dads come back to life every day, things are great," Harry joked, his voice as dry as the Sahara.
James looked at Sirius and they both burst out laughing so hard that James clutched his side.
Harry glanced at them like they were mental, but he joined in too. It all was a bit ridiculous.
"You're funny," James told him with a crooked grin. "We'd like you even if you weren't, but that helps."
Sirius nodded sagely. "Never had too much time for stick-in-the-muds, myself."
Harry smiled and stared at his owl, still caged at the table. "Can I let her out?"
"Of course," Sirius replied.
"What's her name?" James asked, as the snowy owl perched itself on the windowsill and blinked at him.
"Hedwig," Harry told him.
"That's a nice name," James said, and the owl hooted at him in reply. "Do you have any other familiars?"
Harry shook his head.
James sat down at the table, a thought crossing his mind. "Sirius, do you know what happened to Daisy?"
Sirius shook his head.
"Who's Daisy?" Harry asked.
"Our beautiful ginger cat, you were fascinated by it. Lily made me us get it, she loves animals," James said, before realising his mistake. "Loved," he corrected softly, breaking his own heart.
"We had a cat?" Harry asked.
"Yep. The cat loved you until Sirius got you a toy broom for your first birthday and you accidentally knocked it over. It wouldn't dare hurt you but it ran out of the room at the sight of you for weeks. Poor Daisy," James said, letting himself grieve for the cat in a way he wouldn't let himself for Lily. If he started to think about her, he might not be able to stop.
"So that's the second broom you got me," Harry said to Sirius with a grin.
"Right, I need to hear this," James said.
"Sirius got me a Firebolt for Christmas," Harry explained.
"And what's that, for those of us missing some years?"
"Just the best broom ever," Harry said, and he actually sounded young for the first time. "The speed and handing are amazing."
"You were a force on the Quidditch pitch even without it," Sirius told him.
James grinned at the pair of them before hearing Harry's stomach grumble.
"Are you hungry?"
Harry shrugged.
"Do you have food here, Sirius, or have you been existing entirely on magic and despair?" James asked, and Sirius flipped him two fingers.
"There's some food," Sirius said, gesturing to the counter behind him.
James got up and ruffled through the groceries. Meat, cheese, bread. It'd do for now.
"Anyone have a problem with ham and cheese sandwiches?" James asked, and Harry and Sirius both shook their heads. James flicked his wand to cut the crusty bread apart to make three sandwiches, and he floated plates over to the table, as well as a whole chunk of manchengo cheese. A voice inside his head that sounded just like his mum said the boys were too thin.
He saw a bottle of firewhiskey on the cabinet, and grabbed three tumblers.
"You're probably old enough for a little bit of this, your grandfather let me drink with him sometimes when I was your age," James explained, pouring just a little into Harry's glass, and being more generous for himself and Sirius.
Harry guilty took a sip, and James laughed when he coughed, little plumes of smokes escaping his mouth.
"It's an acquired taste," James explained, blowing a perfect ring.
"Wanker," Sirius said. "Harry doesn't know you perfected that technique after sneaking firewhiskey in the dorms from Hogsmeade all of fifth and sixth year."
"I…may not be the best example," James joked, but he meant it.
Lily would have been so much better at this. He was just with her, but he was missing her already.
"Alright, Prongs?" Sirius asked, noticing the shadow that crossed his face.
James nodded, and took a bite of the sandwich to avoiding having to speak. It tasted both absolutely fine and like ash. He could still taste death in his mouth, the dirt of the earth and rot. He hoped it would pass soon.
He looked down at his hands, and kept thinking about that stupid cat. How Harry would follow it around and squeal delightedly when it let him pet her. How he promised Lily they could fill their house with animals and kids one day. Both of them were orphans at 20 with little or no family, they wanted to make their own.
"Dad?" Harry asked hesitantly, and startled when he heard what he asked him.
"I'm sorry, Harry," James apologised. "Just thinking about the cat."
"It's okay. I'd be upset if I lost Hedwig," Harry offered, looking up at his beautiful white owl.
"Cats are smart animals, James," Sirius said. "I'm sure she found a home. Bathilda Bagshot had plenty of them, maybe she went there."
"What does the author of History of Magic have to do with anything?" Harry asked.
"She lived next door to us, she probably still does, in Godric's Hallow," James explained.
"Err, right," Harry said, but the 'how was I supposed to know that' was written all over his face.
"I had a picture somewhere," Sirius said. "Of me as Padfoot, with you and Daisy on my back. I wonder where it is now."
"It's weird that you get along so well with cats," Harry said. "Crookshanks too. When you're a dog."
"Animals are extremely good judges of character," Sirius joked, and James could see the moment he remembered the deal cross his face.
"Harry, Sirius isn't an animagus anymore," James said.
"How?"
"It was what the creature asked for to bring James back," Sirius explained, looking embarrassed.
"That…doesn't make sense," Harry replied.
"I'm not sure I understand it entirely myself, but this is important. If you see a big shaggy black dog that looks like Padfoot, don't get close to it or follow it. I don't want you getting tricked by the creature," James said, remembering the fairy tales of his youth.
"I'm not an idiot," Harry said.
"No one thinks you are," James said.
"No one here, maybe," Harry muttered before turning again to his father. "Are you still an animagus?"
James put down the sandwich and thought. There was no reason why he shouldn't be.
He stood up, finding the biggest open space in the room. Prongs was king of the forest, he wasn't small.
He took a deep breath and found the place inside himself where the stag lived, and shifted, feet turning to hooves, antlers growing from his head in the space of a moment.
The world felt different, he was himself, but not, and his son and favourite person in this world were staring at him with awe.
Harry got up and ran over, and the stag playfully nudged at his face. James stuck out his tongue, and Harry laughed.
"My patronus really does look just like you," Harry said. James blinked his giant deer-eyes at him.
"Maybe you should show him, Harry," Sirius suggested, his voice thick with emotion, and his son nodded before pulling out his wand.
A great ghostly stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand, it was all blue light that looked just like him, hooves dashing through the sky. It found Prongs and bowed, and he returned the gesture, dipping as low as he could go. The magic seemed to warm his bones, still so cold, it made him feel alive and joyous.
He was gone from his son for so long, but in this magic and in his heart he was still with Harry, and the patronus proved it.
James shifted back, wanting the freedom to speak. "That's an incredible display of magic."
Harry waved off the praise, but James could see how pleased he was by the compliment.
"You weren't much older than me when you started learning that, right?" Harry asked.
James exchanged a look with Sirius. "If that was you asking to be taught very advanced and dangerous magic by the two transfiguration geniuses standing next to you, the answer is yes, but maybe not today. It's been a long day."
Harry nodded. "Mum wasn't an animagus, was she?"
James shook his head. "We had planned to," he explained. "But she got pregnant with you and we stopped the process, pregnant women can't shift their forms as easily, it's not safe."
"Ehm, okay," Harry told him. "Thanks for telling me."
James waved him off. "She wanted to try learning again, we just got past the mandrake leaf in your mouth for a month, but we…" he stopped, steadying himself against the kitchen counter. The magnitude of his loss hit him all at once, like the killing course once did.
Sirius saw his face and refilled a tumbler of whiskey, and handed it to him, which he gladly drank.
"But you died," Harry finished.
"That too," James whispered. He didn't want to share this, didn't want to speak the words, as if he didn't say it, it didn't happen.
"Lily was pregnant again," Sirius figured out, his voice shaking with righteous anger.
James nodded, all they could do in the cottage was take care of Harry and fuck when their baby was asleep, it wasn't on purpose, but the pregnancy spell glowing positive wasn't a surprise.
He was startled when one of the paintings on the wall fell off with a loud crack, accidental magic from his best mate starting to wreck the room.
James ignored that and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying not to cry, enjoying the pain the motion gave him. It meant he was alive, unlike them. His wife and the child he never got to meet.
He gave himself a moment, before swallowing down his pain, and opening his eyes.
When he did, Harry was close to him, offering him comfort this time, and James took it, grabbing him into a tight hug.
He let him go after a moment, hearing a whispered "I'm sorry," in his ear.
"Hey, not your fault," James told him.
"It's mine," he heard Sirius say, and Merlin's beard, James has had enough of this.
"Or mine, for agreeing to the secret keeper switch, or Lily's for insisting we stay in the country, at one point I wanted to leave, I was a coward, or maybe it's Dumbledore's fault for not taking down Voldemort the way we grew up hearing he took down Grindlewald but I don't want to talk about this anymore," James finished.
"Fine by me," Harry said after a moment.
"It's poor after-dinner conversation anyway, your mum would be horrified," Sirius said.
"Yeah, she'd just be feeding us biscuits and trying to get us to tell her all our secrets," James said with a smile, remembering her. "In lieu of biscuits, who wants to go stick their feet in the ocean, hmm? I could use some fresh air."
James took a deep breath before heading outside, knowing that Harry and Sirius would be right behind him.