The devastating truth-

"Alright, Harry, Ron, you'll be looking after Ginny-"

"Honestly, mum, I don't need 'looking after!'"

"And Hermione, you'll be in charge of looking after Fred, George and James." Finished Mrs. Weasley as she shuffled them all into groups.

"We don't need a babysitter!"

"Yea, Fred and I are older than Hermione!"

"I'm not going by age here." Replied Mrs. Weasley sternly. "I need to get some new ministry robes for Arthur so I'll be at Madam Malkins if you need anything."

"We'll be fine." They all replied at once.

"It's not like we've never been around Diagon Alley on our own before!" Said George crossly.

"I know, I know… It's just…" She glanced at James. "We'll, never mind. Off we go then." Mrs. Weasley tapped the bricks and they all stepped back as Diagon Alley appeared before their eyes.

"We'll meet back here within the hour." Mrs. Weasley reminded them. The two groups spit off immediately and Mrs. Weasley headed off towards the robe shop. They all waved goodbye to one another, and headed off in separate directions.

James was very merry at the prospect of being out of the dark and depressing house of Black. "Hey, that's new!" James pointed at a wizard hat's stand.

"Actually, it's been there for a while… but I guess it's new to you." Said George absent-mindly as he and Fred gazed around for something. "Hey, there it is!" replied Fred suddenly. They both pointed towards a small shop in the corner. "New joke shop!" said Fred. "Just opened!" Said George.

"We need to be getting our books, not messing around in a joke shop!" Scolded Hermione.

George looked at her with eyebrows raised high, "well then, don't come."

Hermione looked outraged, "Your mother told us to stay together!"

George smiled sweetly and put one arm around Hermione's shoulders, "And we will stay together… right after Fred and I take a peek and the joke store."

"No!" Said Hermione crossly.

Fred and George laughed in unison. "What are you going to do, stop us?"

Hermione Glowered at them.

"It's settled then." Said George and he began to walk towards the new shop.

"See you in a few!" Fred laughed and followed his brother.

"Those two are so- where do you think you're going?"

James had begun to follow the twins but was stopped as Hermione seized him by his shirt.

"Careful, this shirt's Harry's! And where do you think I'm going? I want to see the joke store too!"

"Oh no you're not. You can't just leave me here by myself!" Hermione said, "I'm supposed to keep an eye on you-"

"I don't need a nanny!" James cut her off, getting irritated.

"Come on." Was all Hermione said as she began to lead James away, still holding him firmly by the shirt.

James would have argued if he hadn't noticed the look in her eyes she was giving him. The same look Lily gave him whenever he was really getting on her nerves. The look, in the last few days, James had really come to miss. He took one last, longing look at the joke shop before allowing Hermione to lead him the other way. They walked in silence for a moment as Hermione looked for the bookshop and James thought of Lily Evans.

Hermione suddenly pulled him out of his reverie, James hadn't even noticed that she had let go of his shirt. "So… can I ask you a question?"

"Er, I guess…" James replied as he gazed at all the shops.

"Are you friends with Peter Pettigrew?"

James stopped and looked at her in astonishment. "You know Peter?"

"oh, well," Hermione turned red, "I just know you were friends with him, that's all." They continued to slowly walk again.

"that's an odd question. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." She pretended to be distracted with finding the bookshop again.

"What's it matter to you?"

"It doesn't. I was just trying to get to know you a little better. That's all." Hermione sounded a little offended, and James instantly felt bad for snapping at her.

"Yea, we're friends. He follows us more than we want him around, but he's an okay kid. His clumsiness is pretty entertaining. Does that answer your question?" James asked her kindly.

Hermione didn't look at him, she just nodded. It was a minute before she spoke again, and James could tell she was choosing her words carefully. "You don't think he'd ever turn weird, do you?"

"What, like backstab me? Swindle Lily from me? Betray me?" James let out a bark like laugh that for a fleeting moment reminded Hermione of Sirius. "No way! Peter may be annoying at times, but he's a nice kid! Too nice for his own good, as I always say."

Hermione didn't answer, but instead bit her lip, looking as though she regretted ever asking.

"Hey, you okay?"

Hermione just nodded.

James eyed her suspiciously, "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, "No," she said quickly, "I was just curious. I don't know too much about you, so…" But she still looked as though something was bothering her. Like there was something she wanted to say, but she stayed silent until they reached the bookshop.

"So, what about you?" Asked James as they entered, "How did you end up friends with Harry?"

Hermione looked at him, clearly offended.

"I-I didn't mean it like that! It's just, you guys seem so opposite." James said so rushed it was hard for Hermione to distinguish all he had said.

"We're so opposite? Oh, well, I suppose at times we can be… anyways, it's a long story as to how we met." She began skimming the shelves intently.

"How long is long?" James persisted, hands deep in his pockets and gaze averted elsewhere other than the books, which didn't seem to interest him in the slightest.

"As in, a troll's worth long." And she meant that more literally than she had let on.

"Hm…" was all James said.

"We're not together if that's what you're trying to get at." Said Hermione suddenly.

"No, I know that." James said as he flicked through a random book without interest. "But Harry's friend… the red-headed kid, he seems awfully interested in you."

Hermione dropped the book she was holding and a couple nearby looked in their direction. She casually brushed her bushy hair towards her face as to conceal the scarlet color it was turning. "That's ridiculous. Ron and I are just friends."

"If you say so." Replied James, "Here let me get that for you." He reached down and picked up the book she dropped, blowing off the dust on it before handing it back to her.

She gazed strangely at him.

"What?" he asked, feeling akward.

"It's so strange…" She took the book and put it back on the shelf. "You… being here. You really are Harry's father."

"I suppose." James shrugged awkwardly.

"I can't imagine how he must feel right now. Happy, yet confused. And probably sad too, seeing you here, like a distant dream."

This took James by surprise. He looked at her, unable to decipher what she meant. "Why would he feel any of that? It's not like he doesn't see me all the time. I am his father, or at least, in this time period I am."

Hermione suddenly bit her lip and suddenly looked very interested in an old book, looking regretful yet again.

James tried to meet her gaze again but she refused to look up at him. "Where is his father anyway? Where's the future me? Old Dumbly said I was away… where did I go?"

"Well, I honestly don't think we're going to find what we need here, we'd better go look somewhere else, come on." She said hastily and before James could respond she was headed off towards another section. James didn't follow. He didn't find books remotely interesting, nor did he find watching Harry's odd friend Hermione read books very interesting, so he decided he'd wait for her by the door. And he did wait, for a few minutes anyway. But slowly his mind began to travel back towards the joke shop that George and Fred were probably having a good time in while he was stuck in a grubby old bookshop. Well, Fred and George had already broken the rules, hadn't they? They split off, what should it matter now if he split off too? How much trouble could HE get into if the twins were the ones who broke the rule in the first place? He quickly glanced in Hermione's direction who looked deeply absorbed in a book. Making up his mind, he quietly exited out of the bookstore and back out into the cobblestone street.

It was hardly crowded. He began to head back the way they came when a shiny new broomstick display caught his eye. "That's the broom Harry's got!" Getting excited he rushed into the shop.

James gazed at it in awe, itching to touch the handle. He sat there for a moment, reading the description posted next to the Firebolt. When out of nowhere a hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder. He jumped, spinning around, praying to Merlin it wasn't Mrs. Weasley. But he let out a long sigh of relief to be looking at the shop owner.

"Oh, it's you Mister Potter. How are you? I haven't seen you in here for awhile." She smiled sweetly down at him.

James was startled for a moment because she had addressed him by name and then it struck him that she thought he was Harry.

"Oh, yea, just admiring the Firebolt's handiwork…" He gave a crooked smile.

"Hmm," The shop keeper looked at him in confusion, rubbing her chin thoughtfully, "That's funny, I thought I heard that you already owned a Firebolt."

James's smile dropped from his face instantly, panicked he muttered, "Oh, well, you know, you can never get enough of a quality broom like this whether you own one or not." James felt half ready to grab the broom and start banging it against his head. What a lame thing to say…

"oh, well, I do know how that is. That's why I have this job. You can never get enough of Quidditch, can you?" She looked around her shop admiringly.

"Yea…" James chuckled uneasily.

"I've always wanted to tell you… I think your father would be so proud if he knew you inherited his remarkable flying skills." She smiled warmly at him, but her eyes were full of pity.

James didn't understand, "What do you mean, 'if he knew'?"

She fiddled with the collar of her robe uncomfortably, "Well, with him being passed on and all… oh a customer's at the counter, I must rush! It really was nice to see you again Mr. Potter." And she bustled away towards the counter, looking a little relieved to get away.

James felt all the blood drain from his face. What had the shopkeeper meant by 'passed on'? Was she seriously insisting that he, James Potter…. Was dead?