Harry Meets James
There was a bounce in Sirius's step as he carried the portrait of James into the drawing room. Harry and Ginny followed, and Harry went straight over to stand before Professor Snape, looking defeated and sick.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, gazing unhappily up at him. "Gin said it's okay with you, but…"
Snape shrugged and met Harry's eyes. "Expecting tragedy, Potter? The time for it is long past. This is unexpected, but your future is your own. Choose better than they did."
That implacable black stare reassured Harry, even though he knew how difficult this would be. The wizard's courage and resolution called upon his own, making Harry's chin rise stubbornly. It felt suddenly as if they were heading into battle side by side.
Sirius was attempting to mount the portrait of James directly across from Snape. He would have done better if he had not kept turning around and grinning triumphantly at the others. The result was slightly crooked.
"Well, Snivelly," he crowed, "I brought you a playmate. Since you're dead, I can't have much fun with you, but you remember James, of course. He'll keep you from being lonely."
Snape studied the portrait of his old enemy somberly. "I owe you an apology, James Potter. My report of a prophecy to the Dark Lord was the reason he hunted you down and killed you and your wife. I regretted it as long as I lived. I am sorry."
Harry and Ginny gasped. Sirius goggled briefly and then advanced on Snape's portrait, his wand in his hand. His face was livid with rage. Harry promptly and silently Disarmed him, making the Animagus turn and advance on him.
"Give me my wand! HE RUINED MY LIFE!" he choked, looking quite mad.
"Excuse me!" shouted James. "I think this is about me, not you, Sirius. Now what did bloody Snivelly mean? I should've known everything was his fault!"
"There's plenty of responsibility for all concerned," snapped Harry quickly. "He made some bad decisions and you made some bad decisions!"
"Me? Bad decisions?" screamed James, radiating outrage. "It wasn't my fault! I never knew how Voldemort targeted us, but now I know. Snape wanted us all dead. Poor Snivellus was jealous because Lily chose me. She wanted nothing to do with a repulsive, greasy slimeball! She despised him, so he hated us, and HE MUST HAVE BEEN A DEATH EATER ALL THE TIME!"
James's face was livid with rage. He flung himself forward as though trying to free himself from the portrait frame.
"LOATHESOME, UGLY LITTLE GIT! And I saved your wretched, useless life!" he screamed bitterly.
"STOP!" shouted Harry, shooting a large burst of sparks from his wand with a small explosion.
The silence was startling. Ginny put a supportive hand on his arm, while Sirius and James stared in shock. Harry glanced at the other wall, where Professor Snape had stood motionless as the raging words had pummeled him. The portrait wizard looked calm, until Harry noticed that his thin hand was clenched into a tight fist.
"Better," Harry snapped, turning around to face the two Marauders. "Now, there's a lot you two don't know, so shut it. We'll go along better if you'll listen instead of jumping around like idiots, screaming threats and insults. I don't know why you thought a portrait of my father would make anything better, Sirius, but you haven't shown me yet that you're capable of rational judgment!"
Sirius growled deep in his throat and advanced a step, making Harry point his wand.
"Stay!" he commanded. "Now, everything you're howling about happened over twenty years ago. Nothing you can say or do will change the past, will it?"
"Maybe not, but tearing that bloody ugly painting to shreds with my bare hands will make me feel better!" snarled Sirius.
"Get over your obsession with destroying Professor Snape's portrait. There are powerful protections on the portrait of a Hogwarts Headmaster," said Ginny, glaring at him.
James gasped. He stared in horror at Professor Snape, still standing quietly in his portrait. "Do you mean to tell me that Snivelly was the Headmaster of Hogwarts? That's the most disgusting thing I ever heard. Who decided to make him Headmaster? Voldemort?"
"Exactly," said Snape coolly.
Ginny laughed, and Harry could barely maintain a serious expression in the face of two flabbergasted Marauders. The room was as quiet as they could wish, broken only by the sound of Sirius panting.
"Professor Snape was spying for Dumbledore, going between him and Voldemort," said Harry, striving to emulate Snape's cool manner. "So Voldemort got him in as Headmaster, but he spent that year working to protect the students and the school. It was while I was off running around, trying to destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes."
"Dumbledore would never trust him," said James grimly. "Where is Dumbledore? Did he die? Is that why…"
Harry turned to Snape, remembering how he'd lost it on that awful night, after the Astronomy Tower. But Snape was calm now, with an ironic smirk touching his mouth, and Harry considered the relationship between the two portraits. They were mocking and silly at times, but he had no doubt that Dumbledore and Snape were very close friends.
"Professor Snape…" he began slowly.
"HE KILLED HIM, DIDN'T HE?" screamed James, glaring at Snape in deepest loathing. "MERLIN, HARRY, YOU CAN'T BE MY SON IF YOU CAN DEFEND HIM!"
His eyes fixed on Snape's portrait, Sirius advanced slowly, growling, "They all thought I was wrong to send you to the Shrieking Shack… but it's a pity you didn't die that day."
"Shut it!" snapped Harry. "Many years have passed since you two knew anything and nothing was as simple as you think. I have a rotten headache from all the screaming. Sirius, go home! You may come back tomorrow, if you can manage to behave better than you have thus far. And not too early."
Sirius gulped, reluctant to leave, but the green eyes were icy and unrelenting.
"I'll be back tomorrow morning then," he mumbled. "May I have my wand back?"
Harry tossed it to him and he caught it eagerly.
"Good evening, Sirius," said Harry.
"Good evening," he said to Harry and Ginny. Brightening as he looked at James's portrait, he added, "And I'll see you later, mate."
With a last sullen glare, he glared at Snape's portrait and stalked out the front door. Harry and his father's portrait were left staring at each other.
"High handed, aren't you?" asked James. "You should show some respect for Sirius. He's your godfather and my best friend, you know."
"I do know. Was he always half-mad?" asked Harry. "He's out of control, you know, and I can't imagine him ever living like an actual adult."
James glared, and looking up, saw Snape watching them, his expression inscrutable.
"I can't believe you have him here. He's a deeply horrible person! I could tell you stories…"
"I'll go," said Snape softly.
Harry looked intently at him, hoping he wasn't hurt or mad.
"Please come back tomorrow," said Ginny, her brown eyes imploring.
He nodded slightly, glanced at each of them in turn, and then swept from his frame, his inky robes billowing as he went.
Harry turned to study James Potter. For so long he had loved and admired the idea of his father, believing James to have been wise and noble, the epitome of goodness. Now he was presented with a portrait of his father as he was at the time of his death, and the man seemed impossibly young, also frighteningly in tune with Sirius's appalling behavior. He didn't know what to say.
"Finally!" said James, looking rather more cheerful. "I never expected to be a portrait. I feel real, but I'm stuck in here. This could get confining."
"I think there's a reason why magical portraits are so rare. The Hogwarts Headmasters exist to serve and advise the current Head, and they do get bored sometimes," mused Harry. "They seem to sleep a lot too."
"Humph. Well I have you and your pretty wife for company," said James. "I think you need to get rid of old Snivelly though. Not conducive to family togetherness and all."
Harry groaned. "Professor Snape is here because I want him to be here, and he's welcome as long as he can stand to be here."
"How old are you, boy?" asked James.
"Twenty-two," replied Harry.
"You're older than I am!" exclaimed James. "And you seem twice as old."
"Thanks. We had a war, you know," said Harry. "In fact, Voldemort spent half my life trying to kill me. It wasn't fun. Not to mention living with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon until I went to Hogwarts."
"Ah, sorry about that," said James. "I didn't really expect to die, you know. I still can't believe bloody Voldemort got to us. How did that happen?"
"The Fidelius Charm was performed, right?"
James nodded.
"Dumbledore offered to be the Secret Keeper, didn't he?" asked Harry.
James nodded again, looking slightly apprehensive. "But he was old, a bit out of touch, and I knew I could trust Sirius with my life."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you think you could trust Peter Pettigrew with your life?"
"Little Wormtail's a harmless bloke. No one could have guessed we made him Secret Keeper!" James exclaimed defensively. "Where is he? Did he make it?"
Shocked at his cluelessness, Ginny took the opportunity to leave the room. She knew how Harry had admired his father as a kid, without knowing him. It hurt to see what he'd really been like. She found she was not terribly impressed with James Potter, but didn't want to make this harder for Harry. As she headed upstairs, she heard a howl of rage.
"WORMTAIL BETRAYED US? I DON'T BELIEVE IT! BLOODY HELL!"
Gratefully, Ginny kept walking.
Back in the drawing room, Harry sighed as he listened to another noisy rant.
"We were so sure! Merlin, did Sirius know? It's like a pet poodle turned and attacked us!" raged James.
"Didn't you know what he was like?" asked Harry, beginning to feel rather hopeless. "Did you ever even think? My mum died because you trusted those idiots. Did you really think you knew better than Albus Dumbledore?"
"Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore…" snapped James. "Your mother thought we should use him for our Secret Keeper, but Sirius and I talked her 'round." Smirking, he added, "She could never resist me. I hope you inherited my way with women, boy."
"I find it works well with Ginny, my wife, if I'm honest with her," said Harry, irritated by the portrait wizard's smugness.
James hooted in response and said, "This is very interesting, but I wish we could get out of here. I wonder what happened to my cloak."
"Dumbledore had it. He gave it to me for Christmas when I was eleven, so it's mine now," Harry told him, rubbing his temples.
"Well, I s'pose I can't use it in here, so you might as well have it," his father muttered grudgingly. "So, Harry, what shall we do now?"
"I'm going to bed," Harry said. "It's getting late, and it's hard to tell you anything about what happened. We can talk again tomorrow, but when Professor Snape comes back, I expect you to act like a decent human being. I know the kinds of things you did to him when you were at Hogwarts, and I'm ashamed of your behavior."
His father's portrait glared. "How dare you judge me? Have you ever asked him what happened? There were faults on both sides, and he was a Death Eater, wasn't he?"
"He wasn't when he was eleven years old!" Harry hissed, his eyes blazing. "And since you were fool enough to trust your idiot friends with all of our lives, he was the one who watched over me and kept me alive while I was at Hogwarts! Where were you when I needed a father?"
Furious now, Harry wheeled and left the room. James Potter stared after him, perplexed.
