The Return of the Father: Nightmares

Hello everyone! Thanks so much the reviews for the last chapter, I really appreciate it! Somehow, though, a lot of you seemed to think this story was done! I went back and read my authors note again, and it did sound a bit like I was saying that was it, but I assure you, I was not. Sorry if I scared anyone!

------------------------------Gryffindor Tower

James had taken to sleeping in the Gryffindor Tower. The new student occupants of it hardly minded. Weasleys had taken over the tower, and Arthur and Molly had been offered a room of their own elsewhere in the castle.

In addition to his tendency to claim the couch as his own, he also checked on Harry at various times during the night. It was either a leftover of when Harry was a baby, or it was reassurance of his own insecurities. James didn't care much to analyze it. But somehow, seeing his son sleeping peacefully was quite the relaxant for him.

Of course, he was hardly going to relax when he walked into the room to hear his son's frantic cries and frightened whimpers.

Deftly sidestepping all of the things that Harry and Ron had allowed to litter the floor of "their" room, James raced to Harry. The teenager was thrashing in his bed, face screwing up as he moaned in the throes of a nightmare. "Harry!"

James dropped down on the bed next to his son and started shaking him, not exactly gently. "Harry, wake up, come on…"

"Kill the spare…kill the spare…" Harry whispered, tears starting to stream down his face. James stopped shaking Harry in the attempt to wake him. Shock and horror raced through him and it was enough to force the air from his lungs. Kill the spare?

Harry started sobbing again and James shook his head to clear it. "Harry, baby, open your eyes, it's all right." He pleaded, renewing his efforts to wake his son. Harry was thrashing even harder, trying to twist out of James's grasp. "Harry!"

With no warning, Harry shot up in bed. James grabbed him into a hug, holding him as tightly as he could without causing bruises. "Shh, it's okay. You're awake, it's all over now."

"No, it's not, it's only just started." Harry whispered, the sobs that tore from him marred the words to the point where James wasn't even sure that had been his response. He started crying again, and clutched at his father like a lifeline.

James had nothing to say in response. He just held Harry and kept talking the words of reassurance he had before. He didn't know what else he could do. The only thing he could really do was wait until Harry had calmed down, and then find out what the dream was about. And more importantly, what "Kill the spare." meant. Horrible scenarios flashed in his mind, but James pushed them down, focusing solely on calming his child.

Gradually, the sobs subsided, though the shaking did not. James kept talking, holding onto Harry until the boy slowly pushed back.

"Sorry." Harry whispered, wiping his eyes with the back of his sleeve. He looked down, avoiding James's eyes. His voice was raspy from all of the crying he had done, and probably from some of the louder moans and cries.

Putting his hand under the boy's chin, he gently forced Harry to look up at him. "There's nothing to be sorry for." James assured him firmly. Harry's green eyes stared at him, rimmed red and filled with pain. "What was the nightmare about?"

"Nothing." Harry said quickly, almost too quickly. He tried to cover it up by ducking his head again, but James would not let him.

"None of that." He gently admonished. "And it wasn't nothing, Harry. You were crying and whimpering. I want to know why." He said, just a bit more forcefully when it became apparent that Harry wasn't about to just spill to his father about the dream.

Harry shook his head, pushing back more and leaning himself up against the headboard. He pulled his knees up to his chin and set his head down on them. "It's not important."

James shifted on the bed, settling himself opposite Harry. "I find it important when my son has a nightmare and whispers things like 'Kill the spare.' during it." he shot back.

Startled green eyes met his statement. Harry said nothing for a few seconds, letting a pause of silence fall over them. Then, "I said that?"

"Yes, you did." James told him. "Why?" he asked again, determined to get to the bottom of Harry's nightmare.

But Harry didn't seem to know what to say, or how to start. He just sat there, staring at James as though his father was planning on pouncing him at any given moment. "It was…just a nightmare." He finished lamely.

"You're not acting like it's just a nightmare." James pointed out. "You can trust me, Harry. It's all right." He promised, waiting for Harry to say something in response. He wasn't quite expecting what Harry did respond with though.

"It's what Voldemort said to Wormtail." Harry said, eyes closed and posture admitting the defeat. He sounded tired, but not in a way that indicated that he'd just been woken up, it was the kind of tired that came from dealing with too much for too long.

The mention of the name Wormtail did not help James in any way, it caused him to practically see red with rage. And adding Voldemort to the sentence didn't exactly help matters either. "And what did he mean by that?" James asked, trying not to let his anger show.

Harry stayed silent for a minute. The time dragged on, and the only sounds of the room were breathing and the howls of the wind outside the window. James was almost going to ask again, but Harry answered.

"He meant for Wormtail to kill Cedric so he could fight me alone."

James didn't know what to say. He opened and closed his mouth once and then a second time. Clearing his throat, James made the third attempt to get something out. "Did he?" he asked, in the barest of whispers.

"Yes."

And again, he was at a loss as to what to say. There really wasn't anything he could come up with that was comforting. All he could do was say he was sorry that he hadn't been there to help Harry through what ever had happened, but his son already knew that. So he did the next best thing and reached over to give Harry another hug.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, somewhat lamely. He meant it though, and that was really all he could do.

Harry hugged his father back urgently. He sniffed, and for a second James thought he would cry again, but Harry pushed back instead. "I suppose I need to explain, don't I?"

"I think you should. I want you to." James said. "But if you're too tired tonight, or if the nightmare is too fresh, we can talk tomorrow." He offered quietly.

The teen looked tempted, but shook his head anyway. "If we don't do this now, I'll never get up the nerve." He muttered. And James wasn't sure if he was meant to hear it or not. It certainly didn't calm his fears.

But he nodded nonetheless. Quietly, he muttered a silencing charm for the room, so as not to wake Ron up. "All right." He said, nodding and trying to seem calm, even though inside he was terrified about what might be told.

"I don't know where to start." Harry admitted, picking at his blanket absently. He was looking down, and this time James let him stay that way.

"Start at explaining who Cedric is." James suggested, covering Harry's hand with his own.

Harry choked back another sob and shook his head. "Was." He said, "Who Cedric was." James nodded, remembering that Harry had said that Wormtail had done what Voldemort wanted him to do. Harry continued without seeing the nod though. "It was the third task."

"The third task?" James asked, confused.

"The Tri-Wizard Tournament." Harry explained. "You know what that is, right?"

Nodding again, James knew exactly what Harry meant. The ancient tournament between the three leading magical schools in Europe. It was dangerous and long ago condemned as too barbaric. "I thought that hadn't been done in decades." He commented.

"It hadn't, until last year. They brought it back and had everyone compete here. There was Fleur Delacour from Beauxbatons, Viktor Krum from Durmstrang, Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff." Harry paused for a second. Then he looked up, staring James square in the eyes. "And me."

James shook his head, confused yet again. He had the feeling that it would happen quite a bit through Harry's story. "You would have been fourteen, I thought the age limit was something like sixteen or seventeen."

"It is seventeen. The Goblet – that's how they determine who's going to compete – spit my name too." He explained, sitting up a bit straighter. He pulled his hand away from James's to run a hand though his hair and then flatten his bangs over his forehead. His father watched, noting that the act of hiding his scar seemed to be a nervous habit. "What we didn't know then was that a death eater had put my name in it's own category. A fourth school that didn't exist, and I was the only candidate. They were making me compete."

Hazel eyes narrowed, "A death eater? Dumbledore lets death eaters in his school to tamper with antiques?" he asked, feeling the anger with the headmaster rising again. He'd made quite the effort to stay clear of Dumbledore since he'd talked with Harry about his childhood.

Surprisingly enough, Harry laughed a little. "You'd be surprised." He lamented. "But he didn't know. Mad Eye Moody had come to teach, but someone was using polyjuice to pretend they were him. Crouch's son."

"Always suspected that little brat." James growled. "But more importantly, you were taught by a Mad Eye imposter? I know Dumbledore trusts him, but you'd think he suspected at least something."

"I think he did, towards the very end." Harry mused. "But the damage was already done, I was in the tournament, and there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. Dumbledore couldn't have gotten me out, or he didn't want to. Either way, I was the fourth champion."

A fourteen year old competing in a tournament discontinued for years because of its death and injury rate. James didn't know what the hell Dumbledore could have been thinking. "All right, there are three tasks. Something bad happened the third, but what was the rest of it?"

"The first task was ah…" Harry broke up, his face taking on the epitome of apprehension. "Well…" he tried again, wincing as he watched his father wave his hand to indicate for Harry to continue. "Dragons." He finished.

James's hand dropped. "Dragons." He repeated thickly. "What exactly did the dragons entail?" he asked, speaking the word "dragons" as though he had no idea what it was.

"It wasn't fighting them or anything!" Harry rushed to clear up. "Just…getting past one." He continued, slightly less enthusiastic.

"Getting past one." James repeated again.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Quit taking the parrot approach to conversation. You heard what I said."

James fought the urge to laugh at bit at his son's reprimand. But this wasn't exactly the time, either that or he'd best get a laugh in before they got to task three. He wasn't sure. "Sorry." He apologized, "You had to get past a dragon, continue."

"We had to get the egg from the dragon, a gold egg with a hint for the next task. To get past my dragon, I flew around it." Harry explained.

"We'll discuss that in depth later, I promise." James growled, inner stag flying to the surface. "And the second task was?"

Harry knew exactly what his father was doing. It wasn't the first or second tasks that he'd had nightmares about. They would be discussed later, but they weren't important at the moment. What was important was the third task. Sighing, knowing that the hard part was soon to come, he answered. "We had to save the one we'd miss the most from the bottom of the lake and the Merpeople. Mine was Ron."

"Okay, equally stupid and dangerous. Way to go Albus." James mumbled. In a louder, clearer voice he directed to Harry, "And Harry, what was the third task?"

"A maze, with things – creatures – you had to get past. We had to get to the center before everyone else and touch the Tri-Wizard cup. That would mean we won. Cedric and I, we'd helped each other before. During the maze also. So, after we'd gotten past the last bit together, we were both right next to the cup." Harry explained, voice becoming pained. "My leg was cut a bit, and I wasn't about to race him to the cup. He was right next to it. But he decided to be noble about it. He said I should take it, that I deserved it." He stopped for a second and closed his eyes, "I should have taken it, I should have gone alone."

James let a hand fall over Harry's shoulder. "Gone where?" he asked, trepidation filling his voice tenfold.

"The cup was a portkey. We didn't know it then. I suggested that we take it together, it would have still been a Hogwarts win." He sighed. "But when we touched it, it took us to a graveyard."

This time during the pause, James didn't say anything. He was sure that Harry just needed to get the words out, and then James could make his comments or ask his questions.

Harry seemed grateful for his father's silence. "We weren't sure if it was part of the task or not. But we took our wands out anyway." Harry replayed the scene in his mind, just as he had done before during his dream. "What we didn't do was see Wormtail coming. But we heard it, 'Kill the spare.' Cedric didn't get the chance to do anything before…" he broke off, looking away.

"Hey, it's okay. You didn't know. It's not your fault, Harry." James whispered. He reached up to touch the side of Harry's face and Harry leaned into the touch. "It's not your fault." He repeated.

Sniffing to fight back any more tears, Harry continued his story. He knew that the whole past would come out, and there would be no more secrets left between them soon. "Wormtail tied me up then. He didn't say a word to me, he didn't even seem to want to acknowledge that I was there. I was leaning up against a grave. Voldemort's father."

James was engrossed with the story, and was once again filled with hatred for his former friend. Wormtail had fallen too far for redemption.

"It was a re-birthing ceremony. Bone from his father, flesh of a willing servant…" Harry shuddered, "Wormtail cut his hand off." He whispered. The sight forever embedded in his mind. "And blood from an enemy…me." He finished. It wasn't verbatim, but it was enough to get the idea across.

"Peter took blood from you?" James erupted, loud enough to make Harry jump. Once again, he was thankful for the silencing charms, for he would have woken Ron up for sure.

Breathing harsh from the sudden scare, Harry nodded and pulled up his sleeve. The scar from the cut had never really healed, no matter how much healing from Madame Pomfrey he had received since. It was almost like a curse scar, except it was from what Harry believed to be a normal blade. James grabbed his arm, slightly less than gently, and inspected the cut. There was no knowledge to be gained from it, but Harry allowed his father to do what he wanted.

Placing Harry's arm back down on the bed, James looked up finally. "Keep going."

"Wormtail dropped this – thing – down into the cauldron he had the whole mixture in." Harry continued. The look on James's face clearly indicated that he knew exactly what the thing was. "Yeah, Voldemort. I just sat there with all the other Death Eaters, praying that it would drown. But it didn't. He stood up, a real person again. Well, as close to a person as Voldemort will ever get again."

"You were there with Voldemort himself." James whispered, reeling back. Fourteen…his son was only fourteen. He shouldn't have been there. It seemed so alien, at fourteen, he and the marauders were coming up with ways to skip out of detentions. Harry was figuring out how to survive in a graveyard of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. It wasn't right. It shouldn't have happened.

Harry gave him a sad smile. The smile spoke more than any words could have. Harry was used to it, that wasn't really the trauma of the night. He was almost resigned to having to fight all those obstacles. What else could have happened to allow Harry to think such a thing?

The smile faded, and Harry let the moment of James's revelation slip away with it. "Other things happened. But that's not important. There's really something else, I've wanted to ask you for a while."

Not important? Somehow James didn't find that right. But they would get back to that, he knew they would. "What?"

"My wand and Voldemort's wand, they're brothers. Fawkes was the phoenix feather in both of our wands. They can't fight properly against each other." Harry said, looking intently at his father.

James nodded, "Brother wands aren't meant to fight each other."

"Exactly. They did something, they connected. A gold, um, beam really, came out of each of ours and connected them." Harry said slowly. He paused, as if unsure about whether to continue. But, apprehensively, he did. "And out of the wand came all of Voldemort's recent victims. They're spirits anyway."

"So Cedric?" James asked. That could be a bit worse than just seeing a death, actually seeing the person after. But that didn't quite explain why Harry was staring at him as though waiting for something important. Who else could have come from the wand? It had been inactive for over a decade. Since Voldemort used it to…

Realization dawned on James's face as he stared at Harry. "Cedric, then us?" he asked, his voice a mere croak.

"Cedric, and a old man, a woman – Ministry worker, then you, then Mum." Harry confirmed quietly. "But that didn't make sense. None at all."

James's shocked expression gave way to confusion. "Why not? Your Mum and I did die, even if I'm here now. What's so strange?"

"You don't remember any of this?" Harry asked, tilting his head to the side. His green eyes showed curiosity, and James knew that whatever it was that Harry found strange was big enough to warrant such questions.

Swallowing hard, James shook his head. "No."

"Dad, you came out first. Before Mum. But she died after you. It went in reverse order, you shouldn't have been first. It doesn't make sense." Harry explained slowly. "Unless you didn't die before her."

The magic question. What had happened the night he and Lily had died? What had led up to their deaths? It was a question that needed Peter for an answer. It was a question James himself couldn't help with. It was too much of a blur. Once he and Voldemort had been facing each other…there was just a blank. A blur of time missing, and it was an important chunk at that. "I don't know." He responded.

His son looked like he was going to say more, but James cut him off. "Okay, your mum and I came out of Voldemort's wand. What next?"

Harry didn't seem to want to let the subject change. But he allowed it, the sooner to get their first topic over with, no doubt. "You told me to hang on, and that Mum wanted to talk to me. Then she was there, and she told me that after the connection was broke, you guys would only linger for a few seconds. But it was enough to buy me some time." He sighed, "Cedric asked me to take his body back with him."

"And you broke the connection?" James asked.

"Yes, but I was terrified to. I think, somehow, it's worse now. I was scared then. I mean, the Death Eaters were throwing curses at me, and Voldemort was screaming. I could hardly drag Cedric to the cup, but I did." Green eyes slid out of focus as he spoke. James scooted closer to remind Harry that he was not alone. "But now it's worse. Now it's, surreal almost. Like it didn't happen, it was just a bad dream. Bad dreams fade when you wake up, you forget them and they don't scare you anymore. But this, this isn't going away. Cedric is still dead, and Voldemort is still back. It's not going to fade with time, it's going to be there for the rest of my life."

James couldn't hold back any longer, but held his son again and held the back of Harry's head with his hand. "It will fade, eventually Harry. The fear will go away, and the guilt will too. It will take time, but some of it won't be there forever. I promise you."

"I don't know if I can believe that." Harry whispered.

Smiling sadly, James whispered back. "Then I guess I'll have to stick around to make sure."

Harry laughed in a way that made his father unsure if it was a sob instead. It might have been. But Harry pushed away before he could have been sure.

"There's more."

I know you're all probably like "Hey, where's the rest?!" But we all know what happened though the books. So it's not like you need the recap. Don't worry though, James's thoughts on them will come up soon, so you get that. I just didn't want to recap the entire series.

If this chapter is a bit of a letdown, then I'm really sorry. Please, review anyway though!

Stars Enchantress