Summary: Harry is five when he asks what means Wormtail.

Harry is thirteen when he asks who is Peter Pettigrew.

Harry is seventeen when he tells that Peter is dead.

(Or how James would have dealt with Peter's betrayal if he had lived).


The other marauder

Harry is five the first time he asks about Wormtail.

It's a September afternoon and the weather has been nice all week, so at the weekend they indulge themselves in a pool that James conjures in their backyard. It's mostly for Harry's sake and his son laughs as Sirius turns into a dog to jump in the pool, swimming and splashing water in them as he shakes himself dry. Harry's happy giggles keep them all amused.

As the night falls and it gets cooler, they rest lazily in the lawn around a fireplace that Lily conjures for them, toasting marshmallows. James and Lily share a blanket, looking at the stars above them, while Sirius holds Harry, all wrapped in a towel, against his chest.

James is distracted, really, and he barely notes as Harry starts to read the numbers and phrases of the tattoos in Sirius' chest. Harry had just started school that year and he had loved learning how to read and write - he was curious, his son…

'Wormtail', Harry reads out, and in the silence of the night, his high-pitched childish voice sounds louder. 'What it means?'

He is looking at Sirius, expecting his godfather to answer him just like Sirius had explained patiently about his other tattoos, but Sirius doesn't say anything.

Instead, Sirius looks gravely at James, who just blinks, equally speechless.

James doesn't know how to answer that. He'd thought that Sirius had removed that particular tattoo a long time ago.

But now that he looks at Sirius' chest, he sees the four names are still inscribed there, over his heart, like they've been since he was seventeen, each one handwritten by its owner. James doesn't need to try harder to remember that cold December afternoon, when they were hanging freely in London and Sirius had declared he wanted a tattoo. He was the only one of them that was of age then, and James had watched rather enviously as Sirius got their nicknames tattooed in his skin, somehow making all of them really part of him.

James had promised he'd get a tattoo too, but he ended up forgetting and Sirius had always loved more tattoos than him anyway. In any case, James hadn't thought about Sirius' tattoos for ages.

Then he stares Wormtail's name there along with the others, part of a group that he doesn't belong to anymore.

That sight fills James with hatred beyond words.

At his side, sensing his stress, Lily touches the back of his head in a soothingly move.

'It's just a name, Harry', she says dismissively, making Harry look at her.

'Who is Wormtail?', he asks, curious as always. Then he giggles. 'It's a funny name'.

'He is gone', James says dryly, and the tone of his voice makes Harry recoil against Sirius, clearly distressed over the idea of upsetting his father. Lily now presses his head with a little more strength, and James forces himself to relax. 'It's no one, Harry', he adds more kindly.

Harry doesn't look convinced, but he gives a tiny nod, staying in thoughtful silence then. His big green eyes are still fixed on Sirius' chest and James sees he is reading the other words there, moving his lips silently.

James throws a shirt to Sirius after that.

Later, when he passes Harry's room on his way to his own, he sees the light is on. That makes him frown, because Sirius had already tucked Harry for sleep, and Harry usually crashes after a day of activities.

When he opens the door, he sees Harry is on his desk by the window, his small legs swinging in the air as he busies himself writing something.

'Harry?', James asks, and Harry turns to him with a guilty expression that James thinks will need a lot of improvement if he wants to get away with pranks in the future.

Harry jumps to the floor, grabbing what he had written and hiding it hurriedly behind him.

'Shouldn't you be in bed?', James adds softly, and Harry nods, running to his bed and getting under his blanket.

James comes to tuck him in again, passing his hands through Harry's hair to mess it, the way that always makes Harry laugh. Then his hand falls on Harry's tiny hand, where there is a crumpled paper.

'May I?', James asks. Harry bits his lips, looking very much like his mother when she is thoughtful, but he opens his hand.

James unfolds the paper to see that Harry copied Sirius' tattoo, writing in his trembling childish handwriting: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.

He thinks of the night they signed those names on the Marauder's Map, a hundred years ago, and how, in that moment, it seemed they would all shine brightly forever.

He can feel Harry's eyes over him, apprehensive, so he forces himself to breath evenly.

'Nice letters', he says, letting the paper rest on the nightstand. 'You make your "g" like your mom's. Now, be a good boy and sleep, ok?'

'Dad?', Harry asks timidly. 'You are Prongs, right?'

James feels something heavy inside his chest, but he nods.

'Padfoot is Sirius' dog. And Uncle Moony is Uncle Moony'. James just acquiesces with his head, still silent. Harry's eyes are very big, the moonlight entering the bedroom and highlighting his young face. 'So who is Wormtail?'

James looks at Harry's face, at his curious innocent son, and, not for the first time, he asks himself what made Peter betray them.

What made him betray James. Was that James' fault? Was it Peter's ambition?

He doesn't know and he fears he never will.

'When I was in Hogwarts, with Padfoot and Moony, we had another friend', he whispers, his voice shaking slightly. 'We called him Wormtail'.

'He was like you? A Gryff… Gryve…'

'Gryffindor', James completes for him, watching Harry beam at the word, his hand automatically reaching for the stuffed lion at the edge of his bed, that James takes to give to him, watching Harry hugging the lion. 'Yes, he was, and in our year too'.

'Then he was a lion like you!'

James closes his eyes briefly and he remembers their first transformation, when James had turned into a majestic stag and Sirius into a beautiful black dog and Peter had looked crestfallen at being a small rat. Sirius had teased him, but that had been one of few jokes that James had asked him to drop it.

Afterwards, James had found Peter and had reminded him of the great accomplishment he had achieved by turning into an animagus at the age of fifteen.

'You should be proud of being a rat', James had said and Peter had beamed, drying away the tears in his eyes.

James supposes he should have seen then. A rat.

'He was once', he says instead, because he always wondered where was the courage that the Sorting Hat had seen in Peter at age eleven.

'Where is he?'

'Gone'.

'Gone where?'

James lies down at Harry's side, his eyes on the stuffed lion, trying not to think of the index finger that was given to Peter's mother as the only piece of him they ever found.

'Do you remember when mom's cat was old? And he slept very deeply?'

'Oh. And he didn't wake up anymore'.

'Well, that is what happens when someone is gone. They sleep and they never wake up anymore'.

Harry frowns in concentration.

'They are dreaming?'

'Something like a very long dream, yes'.

'If I sleep now, I will wake up?'

James smiles softly and places a kiss on his forehead.

'You will', he assures.

'Mom was sad when the cat slept', Harry murmurs, still frowning in concentration. 'Were you sad when your friend was gone?'

Truth be told, James had not known about Peter's fate until two days later. The first of November had been a rush of meetings with Dumbledore then the Order then confirming everything was right with Harry and just trying to understand what had happened.

It was only on the next day that he found out that after making sure they were safe, Sirius had taken his motorbike and had gone after Peter alone.

He only had seen the pictures of the explosion in the papers the next day. Sirius had never talked to him about what happened, other than saying Peter had tried to escape and had exploded a gas pipe instead. Twelve people were killed, including Peter. A massacre and one of his best friends had turned into a mass murderer.

James had never really grieved for Peter and he had ignored all attempts of Peter's mother to contact him. He knew she would want answers he did not have.

He had felt a lot of things for Peter's betrayal and demise, but it never occurred to him whether sadness was one of them.

'I think so', he says, not wanting to lie to Harry despite knowing he won't ever fully disclose this story to his son. He thinks of happy nights in the Common Room, in the way Peter always smiled to him as if he would trust James to guide him in the dark. James wonders when that smile lost hope. Somehow, it feels that Peter died long before he blew up himself. 'Yes, I was sad'.

Harry gives him the stuffed lion.

'Here, have Godric', he says, as serious as he can sound. 'He will make you happy'.

James smiles and hugs the lion before returning him to Harry.

'I am already happy. You are safe, Harry, and that makes me happy'.

Harry yawns and holds his lion tightly. James rises, messing with Harry's hair one last time.

'Now, good night, Harry'.

'You forgot -'

'You are right, sorry. Good night, Godric'.

Harry smiles quietly, closing his eyes and James watches him for a minute before closing the door.

Whatever else he would feel for Peter's betrayal, he knows he can't ever forgive Peter for risking his family.


Harry is thirteen when he asks who is Peter Pettigrew.

It's the end of July. Harry is happy, having the Weasley over for a birthday party. James watches amusedly as the Weasley twins are clearly plotting something (even after all these years James can still spot a prank miles away), when he sees Sirius has arrived.

Sirius hugs Harry and gives him his birthday present, but it's clear something is off with Sirius. Now James thinks about it, it's been over two weeks that he hasn't seen Sirius. It happens from time to time, when Sirius is overcharged with his job at the Ministry, but usually Sirius warns them before he is on a mission or if he will become unavailable.

Whatever it is, Sirius seems to be avoiding him purposely, instead going to talk to Remus in a low voice in a quiet corner. Whatever they are talking makes Sirius relax a little, then they both turn to look at James, who just stares back calmly. He knows Sirius will come to talk to him about what is bothering him.

They don't have secrets to each other.

So James waits and he isn't really surprised when Sirius comes quietly to his side and requests a private word. His face is grave, without any shadow of a smile, as if James needs another sign that whatever it's pestering him, it's important.

They lock themselves in Lily's office and Sirius takes a deep breath, looking at James as if he wished more than anything he could be saying something else.

'Peter is alive'.

James blinks, for a wondrous second not understanding.

'What Peter?'

'Peter Pettigrew'.

'That's impossible!'

'We have a witness that saw him early this month close to Ottery St. Catchpole. Older, balder, but, yes, it was him'.

'Who? Who saw him?'

'Bertha Jorkins'.

James snorts nervously.

'Bertha? You know what she's like, Padfoot. She can't see the difference between a dog and a crup -'

'I saw her memories, James, it's really him'. Sirius sighs. 'Don't you think I wish he were dead too?'

'Do you?', asks James, because he remembers how Sirius never erased Wormtail's name of his tattoo, but even as he asks he regrets his question.

'I went after him, didn't I? I watched he blow up a whole street -'

'But not himself, clearly! How did you miss that?'

Sirius shakes his head, angry, though James can tell he is more angry at himself.

'Well, he was a rat - I don't know how he managed to explode and turn at the same time, but then again we did underestimate Peter a lot, right?'

'We can't do that again, Sirius! We can't let him escape our fingers, not when…'

'I know, Prongs, I know. I've set a task force with Shacklebolt and Fudge is talking about even involving the Muggle Prime Minister this time… We'll surround him and capture him. It's just a matter of time'.

'You said he was seen on Ottery St. Catchpole? That's where the Weasleys live, we must -'

Sirius sighs heavier now, and there is a dark cloud on his face, one that looks a lot like that time when Sirius had pranked Snape into going to the Shrieking Shack. Guilt.

'He is not there anymore, we've checked the city over and over - even the sewers, yes, but he is not in the region anymore'.

'But we must tell Arthur, Ron can be in danger -'

'Peter isn't there, James, he… He was just probably searching for some information, Ottery St. Catchpole has one of the biggest wizarding communities and… When Bertha saw him, the Weasley weren't even there. They were abroad'.

James remembers the prize that Arthur had won and their sunny trip to Egypt; he had been happy for them. But that…

'That was two weeks ago!', James cries, and Sirius flinches, but he nods. 'You are telling me you withhold that for two weeks? What the hell is your problem, Sirius?'

Sirius crosses his arms.

'That was classified, that's the problem. We thought if we could trace him quietly, it would be better'.

'Better for who? In case you forgot, your godson is a target for him!'

'Harry was never in danger, James', Sirius says quietly. 'Peter was seen far from here and, well, if he's been alive for the last twelve years, then he never once went after Harry'.

'He is rat - he could be here or at Hogwarts and we wouldn't -'

'He is not here now, there is your love protection, remember?', points Sirius, his voice much more soothing than James has ever seen him sound. He supposes years as Auror have made Sirius much better qualified to deal with stress. 'And as for Hogwarts, once again, Harry was never in danger as far as we know. No unknown rat or crazy old man has come near him'.

'But I can't - Harry can't return there, not -'

'You are overreacting, James, and you know it. Harry will be under Dumbledore's protection all the time at Hogwarts and there is something else'. He pauses, and then there is a tender smile on his lips. 'Moony will be there too. Dumbledore asked him to teach Defense this year'.

'Oh', that brings a smile to James' face as well. He knows how much Remus has been studying and how much he loves to share his knowledge with others. 'Finally. Remus must be so happy'.

'He is excited, yes, but if you want to know the main reason he accepted was to watch out for Harry too'.

'Remus knew too? So what, everyone knew?'

'Don't be like that - we just tried to solve things before it got too complicated. But now -'

'Now?'

'Someone leaked it for the Daily Prophet', Sirius admits, breathing heavily. 'It will be on the front page tomorrow morning. And you know what that means -'

'Panic'.

'He got marked as one of Voldemort's biggest supporters. Nonsense, we know, Peter was never the brightest, he wouldn't be any better Death Eater… he was just in the right place. But it doesn't matter, people will panic, I will get owls daily with people reporting they've seen him… It will be a mess'.

'And it will be harder to find him now he knows he's been hunted', James muses thoughtfully. 'I suppose none of the free Death Eaters are happy with him either'.

Sirius gives one of his bark-like laughs.

'The traitor who helped lead Voldemort to his downfall? I bet not. They will think the traitor betrayed them too'.

'As if…' James sighs. Then he glances at Sirius speculatively. He knows what Sirius will say, but he can try. 'I can help'.

'No', Sirius shakes his head. 'You are too involved in this, and you know it. It will not do any good'.

'I can't just stay here knowing he is out there -'

'See, that's why I didn't want you to know. Breathe, James. The Aurors are taking care of it, I am taking care of it and about Harry, I promise you, I won't let anything happen to him. Not even if I need to be at his side all the time'.

'He will love that', James snorts. 'But you are right, Harry will be at Hogwarts, the least we can do is… trust anything will happen'.

'I hope not, Fudge is talking about putting dementors around Hogwarts for protection… Like I said, a mess'.

'What good will dementors do?'

'None, of course, but -', Sirius flushes, looking guilty. 'It's not like we can just tell them about Peter, right? It would lead to too many questions, and Remus -'

'I know', James agrees, sighing. 'We will just have to be careful. Harry will need to be more careful if a mass murderer is after him, he can't be out after hours or going in his trips outside the castle - or, damn it, there are Hogsmeade trips this year - '

'Don't forbid him of going', says Sirius, frowning. 'Or you will just make him find a way of going without you knowing'.

'He wouldn't if -'

'If you tell him what's going on?', Sirius challenges. 'Are you going to tell him the whole story?'

James doesn't say anything, but Sirius already knows the answer.

'That boy may have Lily's sense of responsibility, but he is also your son and I know you will be disappointed if he never finds out one of the secret passages out of the castle - do you really want to test him?'

James chuckles against his will.

'Fine, he can keep Hogsmeade trips, as long as it's safe. I just can't help but think… who knows how Peter Pettigrew's mind is after all this time? What if he thinks that getting Harry will bring Voldemort back?'

'He was never the most brilliant, James', Sirius repeats derisively.

'Still, twelve years of brooding Voldemort's fall… he bet all on Voldemort, didn't he?'

'He bet wrong', Sirius says, his voice resolute. 'Now, can we let this go for now? It'll be in tomorrow's paper and I just want a moment to celebrate my favourite godson's birthday'.

'He is your only godson', James notes, more at ease with Sirius' joke.

'Only because you and Lily stopped too early'.

'Remus would be the next godfather'.

'You wouldn't dare!'

James laughs, without answering.

They go back to the party, and once in a while, James thinks Harry is looking at him, but whenever he looks back, Harry is already doing something - talking animatedly to Ron or even coaching a blushing Ginny to play Exploding Snap.

There is no talking of Peter Pettigrew for the night, until later when they are in their bedroom, and James tells Lily the news that Sirius brought.

Lily turns to him then, her green eyes full of worry.

'We should tell Harry'.

'There is nothing to tell him', whispers James. 'We don't know if Wormtail will go after him'.

'What does your heart tell you?'

James closes his eyes, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

'I think it's not a coincidence he has been sighted after all these years'.

'That's what I thought too. I can talk to Harry if you want'.

'No, I will - it's my… my burden. Just give me some time, ok?'

Lily sighs and nods. James can feel her watching him, but he doesn't open his eyes.

'And how do you feel about that?'

'What do you mean?'

'About Peter being alive. You never dealt with it, James, not really'.

'He was a traitor', James mumbles, his voice full of repulse. 'There was nothing to deal with. He betrayed us then he died. Or so we thought, but I didn't care he was dead'.

'Didn't you?', she asks softly, and James doesn't answer her.

It seems there are a lot of things he doesn't want to say, so after a minute, Lily turns off the lights. She hugs him in the dark, her hand caressing his, and James pretends he doesn't care at all that Peter is alive.

Lily pretends she doesn't know he cares, so it works for everyone.

The next morning, when they are in the kitchen for breakfast, Harry jumps from his chair as soon as the morning owl comes with the Daily Prophet.

'Thanks', he says to the owl, watching it fly away. Then he opens the newspaper. 'Wow. Who is Peter Pettigrew?'

James grabs the Prophet. There is a big photo of Wormtail, blinking at him. Peter Pettigrew is alive and on the loose, the headline says.

He looks at the face he hasn't seen in the past twelve years, having even stored all photos in which he was together with them. James had worked really hard to delete from his existence the fact that he was once friends with Wormtail, and still Peter managed to crawl back in his life.

'Friends don't leave', he remembers saying to Peter a long time ago, and James can't help but find the irony there.

It's an old photo, of when Peter was twenty, young and looking so fragile. He wonders how Wormtail is now. Sirius described him as older and balder, and that thought fills him with anger. He remembers the old Order, how many of them were killed, and James asks himself - as he always does when his thoughts steer in that direction - how many died because he was once friends with Peter Pettigrew.

'Dad?', Harry asks again, and James sees Harry is watching him carefully.

'He was a Death Eater', Lily answers for him, taking the newspaper from his hand and replacing it with a cup of tea. 'One of Voldemort's followers. He got famous for - ', Lily looks briefly at James. ' - for murdering twelve people with a single curse'.

'Twelve people?', Harry repeats, astonished. 'With one curse?'

'Yeah, and for all these years we thought he had killed himself also. But now -'

Lily shrugs at the newspaper, folding it so Peter's face is hidden. Harry grabs the Prophet, his eyes scanning fast the news.

'Sirius is after him?', he asks, and James unfrozes.

'They are sending the best Aurors', he says in the lighter voice he can manage.

'I am sure your godfather will catch him in a blink', adds Lily, in the same tone as James.

Sirius hasn't caught Peter in the two weeks of advantage he had, James thinks darkly, but he doesn't say anything. With luck, Peter has left the country by now. He was never the bravest; he wouldn't face a manhunt for him.

Harry is nodding, looking strangely excited at the thought of his godfather going after a famous murderer, and Lily looks at James as if expecting him to tell now and then that Pettigrew may be after Harry.

It's still early August, James thinks. There is still time.

August passes by in a blink, and Lily is throwing looks at him that are more and more worried than before, but still James can't force himself to say anything to Harry.

Then Sirius comes to the news that Fudge has not resisted public pressure and he decided to place dementors around Hogwarts for "protection".

'Everyone agrees that he is after Harry', Sirius explains in a quiet voice. He looks more tired than James has ever seen him, and he guesses easily that Sirius must be double-shifting in his search for Pettigrew.

Sirius is the only one that is almost as upset as James by Peter's betrayal. James thinks it's not fair; he never blamed Sirius for suggesting the exchange of Secret Keeper - it was a good plan.

James only blames himself for not seeing how excited Peter had been at the idea, how he trusted the most precious things in his life for someone he thought he was a friend.

The mistake is on James, not on Sirius.

'It's silly, we have no evidence that it's more likely he may go to Hogwarts than anywhere else, and Dumbledore was furious', Sirius is saying, dismayed. 'But Fudge is sure that he is after Harry, and you know Fudge -'

'He likes to show that he is doing something, yes', James completes. He doesn't have much contact with the Minister of Magic, but Sirius doesn't seem impressed by him and James trusts Sirius' opinion. 'So what now?'

'Now we hope the dementors at least catch Peter if he is dumb enough to bump into them. But it will be miserable at Hogwarts this year, that I give you. I hate dementors'.

'Me too'.

'Every time I have to go to Azkaban... God, I hate that place. I don't think even filthy like my dear cousin Bellatrix deserves it'.

'Peter might', James says quietly. 'Or not, he won't feel anything probably -'

'James…'

'What? We always protected him so it was not like he could have bad memories of school or of the war. And then what, do you think he regrets telling Voldemort? You think it's a bad memory for him? It was probably the happiest moment of his life, delivering the Potters…'

'James', Sirius calls him again, louder so James can't ignore him this time. 'I don't care if it will affect Peter or not, and neither should you. It's not our problem anymore'.

'It will always be my problem'.

'It's only his problem. See, thoughts like that… Lily is worried about you'.

James rolls his eyes.

'You two have been talking behind my back?'

'Yes', Sirius admits shamelessly. 'It's what we do when you don't talk to any of us'.

'I am talking with you right now'.

Sirius raises his eyebrows.

'We can talk about the map of Hogwarts you have been studying in the library'.

James flushes.

'It's nothing. Just a silly hobby'.

'It's silly', Sirius agrees. 'Studying Hogwarts' pipelines? There was a bloody basilisk in them, and you think you might find Peter like that?'

James doesn't answer.

'You will get crazy if you try to catch him like that, James, trust me. It's like catching smoke with your hand. Now, if you want to do something useful… Have you talked to Harry?'

'If you've been talking with Lily, you know I haven't yet'.

Sirius just looks at him, expecting, and James sighs. 'I will talk to him tonight', he concedes.

Still, James delays the moment as much as he can, until, right after Harry turns in for the night, he sees Sirius and Lily looking at him, both with identical reproval looks on their faces.

'I hate when you join forces against me', he mumbles, but he goes.

As much as James doesn't want to talk to Harry about it, he knows it's for the better.

He knocks on Harry's door, opening to find Harry already with his pajamas, lying lazily on his bed.

'Dad?', Harry asks, surprised. Then he smirks. 'Coming to tuck me in? I am a little bit older for that'.

James laughs easily, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed and arraying the blanket over Harry, making his son roll his eyes.

'You are never too old'.

'This is silly', Harry disagrees, moving so he messes all the work James had done with his blanket. 'What is it?'

'Maybe I just want to wish you a good night'.

'You already said it downstairs'.

'Or maybe I came to see if you want a bedtime story'.

'I'm thirteen', Harry notes, exasperated.

'Even for a Marauder's tale?', James asks in a soft voice. Harry blinks, and James can see the interest in there.

'I could listen to one', Harry says in a nonchalant voice. 'Just because you love them so much'.

'Put on my account, yeah', James almost smiles. Then he looks at his own hands. 'Did I ever tell you about the Marauder's Map?'

'I think Sirius mentioned a map once'.

'We lost this map so many years ago that we tend to forget… Well, it was the other half of our secret to perfect pranks. The first one you know'.

'The Cloak', Harry guesses.

'Yeah… you see, this map was just as amazing, and maybe even a little more, because we created it from scratch. It was a map of Hogwarts, showing every corridor, every room, but the most amazing thing - it showed where everyone was. There were small dots with everyone's names, at live time'.

'Wow!', Harry looks impressed. 'How did you do it?'

'A combination of good spells, our talents, plenty of time to spare, my Invisibility Cloak so we could walk around… It was supposed to be our legacy'.

'And how come I don't have this map?', asks Harry, sounding outraged. James chuckles lightly.

'Because we lost in our Seventh Year. Filch got it - I don't think he understood what it was, but he was smart enough to see it was important. Well, by then we were leaving Hogwarts and we had more pressing things to care about anyway'.

Harry shakes his head in fake devastation.

'You should have thought about your future son'.

'I was eighteen, Harry, you can be sure I didn't think about kids', James says playfully. 'Well, we enjoyed the Marauder's Map while we could. It saved us a lot of times of being caught, especially when we got separated…'

'What do you think happened to it?'

'It's probably gathering dust in Filch's office. If you happen to find an old harmless parchment lying around, that's it… and you will see it's signed with our names. Well, nicknames. Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and…'

'Wormtail', Harry finishes for him, in a low voice.

James sighs, looking back at Harry.

'You remember', he says, and Harry just nods. There doesn't seem to be any special acknowledgement in his eyes, so James just adds, in the most casual voice he can manage. 'Well, we four did it. It was the greatest Map ever. There were all these secret passages in and outside school too'.

'The ones you don't want to tell me about', Harry notes, just a touch of complaint in his voice.

'I told you to explore and I gave you my Cloak, didn't I?'. He smiles. 'You got to deserve knowing the passages, kiddo'.

'I've explored Hogwarts', Harry says, with a note of pride in his voice that James knows is for his father more than for himself.

'The Marauders never found the Chamber of Secrets, I will give you that', James agrees.

Harry smiles bashfully. James shakes his head at the adventures his son had, then he sighs.

'But this year I will have to ask you to suspend your explorations, Harry'.

Harry just blinks.

'There is something I've got to tell you, and I'm sorry to have postponed so much, I just didn't want you to worry during summer -'

'Dad', Harry cuts him off, looking guilty. 'It's fine. I know'.

'You know? How could you?'

'I heard you and Sirius talking on my birthday', he admits. 'I know I shouldn't, but I heard my name and… I know Peter Pettigrew is after me'.

Now it's James' turn to blink.

'What else did you hear?'

'Only that "a mass murderer" is after me', Harry repeats, a little unfazed, as if it's no big deal that he is the target of a mass murderer. In his case, James thinks, it's not the first time. 'Is there more?'

Once upon a time James looked at Peter's face, at his friend's face, and asked him if he could do him the greatest favour of being their secret keeper.

'It will be dangerous, I know', James had said, not wanting to lie to Peter. 'And I know it's too much, Peter, but I wouldn't ask if -'

'James', Peter had said, placing a hand on his shoulder, looking much more valiant than James had ever seen him. 'I would do anything for you, you know that. You can trust me'.

James had trusted him and seven days later Voldemort had walked effortlessly into his house.

'No, that's it', James whispers, knowing perfectly well what he is lying about. 'We are just worried because he was a huge supporter of Voldemort and… well, he lost everything right after Voldemort lost to you, so -'

'Let me guess, another crazy person who thinks I somehow can bring Voldemort back to power'.

'We think so', James agrees. 'There will be extra protection in Hogwarts this year, so I ask you to just be equally extra careful, ok? Just be a good boy for once and stay inside the castle, or with people around you -'

'I'm not scared', Harry says.

'I know you are not. But I want you to promise… don't go looking for Pettigrew'.

Harry opens his eyes, startled.

'Why would I go out looking for someone who wants to kill me?', he asks, and James just looks back at him, without answering. After a few seconds, Harry grins. 'Ok, I get it, I have a bad record'.

James lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

'You are notorious for acting first, think later. Hum, I wonder where that impulsive trace came from'.

Harry laughs.

'Mom, probably', he teases. Then his face softens. 'You don't need to worry, Dad. I am sure Sirius will catch him easily'.

'I trust Padfoot too'. There is a moment of silence. 'You still haven't promised'.

'Oh, you are right. I promise to behave this year'.

'Not too much, you can pull off a prank or two', James says, grinning, and Harry winks at him. 'Well, I think I will let you rest now. See if we can be on time this year in King's Cross'.

Harry flushes. They are always late because of him.

'Good night, Harry'.

'Night… hey, dad?'

'Yeah?'

'If you are a stag and Sirius is a dog, that friend of yours, Wormtail, was he an animagus too?'

James' throat is suddenly dry and he stops at the door to turn to Harry.

'Yeah, he was a rat', he whispers. 'Let me know if you see any strange rat around you, ok?'

'Isn't he… I mean, I thought he was dead'.

Harry says the last word in a low voice, as if he feels guilty of remembering his father that his friend is dead.

Harry's eyes look so full of concern for him, so much like Lily's eyes, that he can hear her voice in his head, telling him to tell Harry the truth about Pettigrew and Wormtail, to explain to him what happened.

What James did.

How he didn't realize one of his best friends was a spy who sold James' family in exchange for power.

How he dared doubt Remus, while the real traitor was being cherished as a brave hero for keeping the most important secret.

How James would have died for Peter.

He can't face Harry. He can't tell him that truth.

'My friend is gone, James says at least. 'But you never know. Watch out for unknown rats, ok?'

Harry nods and James closes the door silently.


It's not the first time the school year ends with James visiting the hospital wing in search of his son, but this is the first time he meets Sirius there.

'Prongs -', Sirius starts, looking guilty and trying to rise from the bed he was laying on, but James just shakes his head. Sirius' head is all bandaged, and, from what Dumbledore told him, it was a nasty blow, along with many other cuts in his body.

Later, James will tease Sirius for being an old man that can't even deal with a werewolf anymore, but now James is not in the mood.

'Just rest, Padfoot', he says dismissively. 'Are you ok?'

'I am, but - he was here and -'

'I know what happened. Dumbledore told me'. James presses his lips for a moment. 'Where is Harry?'

Sirius winces at the tone of James' voice.

'He was released early this morning, but James… Come on, it's not his fault'.

'Which part? Going after Wormtail or almost being kissed by a dementor?'

'Everything', Sirius says softly. 'He saved more than one life yesterday, you know. You should be proud of him'.

'I will be prouder when he ends a year without me needing to pay him a visit in the hospital wing. Now, do you know where he is?'

Sirius sighs.

'Try the lake. I think he will be there with his thoughts after last night.

James wonders what is in the lake that would particularly attract Harry, but he just nods, leaving the infirmary.

The truth is he is mad. He woke up to a letter of Dumbledore, calling for him and Lily at their earliest convenience. James had recognized the tone of Dumbledore's letter - it spoke of Harry getting into some adventure that he should not have.

Except he would not classify everything that had happened the night before as one of Harry's adventures. It was much more an suicidal attempt, because he could not fathom any good reason for his son to go after Peter Pettigrew - after promising he wouldn't -, drawing Sirius' attention, then Remus and, for another baffling reason, Snape.

And then, as if that was not enough, even though Harry had managed, with his friends and Sirius and Remus, to catch Peter, he had slipped out of their fingers and everyone was almost kissed by one hundred dementors.

'How?', Lily had asked, her face pale and troubled, grasping James' hand with such force that it was stopping his blood circulation. 'How did they escape the dementors?'

'They had time', Dumbledore had answered enigmatically.

James had no time for decyphering enigmas. He had left to check on Sirius and to find Harry. He needed to understand why Harry had put himself in so much danger, over and over, and what had made him go chase after Peter Pettigrew when he knew the danger Peter represented.

And it had been all for nothing. Wormtail is still at loose, still a danger, still unpunished for everything he did. And he got so close to Harry, whose life he once offered freely to Voldemort, even after assuring James he would protect it with his last breath…

The sun makes James blink blindly when he leaves the castle. It's a beautiful hot day, and he sees a line of students going in the direction of Hogsmeade - it's probably the last trip of the year there.

With a guilt jolt, he thinks of revoking Harry's permission to go to Hogsmeade after there was a sight of Wormtail there. It turned out to be an unfounded rumor, but James had not been thinking straight.

He was never really able to when it involved Wormtail.

Harry had been furious at being forbidden from going to Hogsmeade and even Lily had not supported his decision then. Considering Harry had ended up meeting Wormtail at Hogwarts grounds, even if they went to the Shrieking Shack, he supposes he was on the wrong on that one.

He finds Harry easily after a few minutes, under the shadow of a tree with Ron and Hermione. They both raise when they see James approaching, and they each place a supporting hand on Harry's shoulder.

The sight fills James' heart with sudden warmth. He loves Ron and Hermione and he loves to watch them together. That trio has nothing to do with the Marauders, really - he can point out some similarities if he must, but they are altogether a different group.

And still James sees that, with Ron and Hermione, Harry has the kind of friendship that James himself found with Sirius and Remus. That friendship that will last a lifetime, through troubles and doubts.

His anger lessens a little.

Ron and Hermione whisper something to Harry and he sees his son nodding. They leave Harry, passing James with just a greeting with their heads. For some reason, Ron flushes when James waves back, looking strangely guilty.

'He thinks it's his fault', Harry explains, and James sees he was watching him from his place at the ground. Harry doesn't raise. 'For not noticing what Scabbers was - well, that he wasn't a normal rat'.

'Nobody blames him', James whispers, sitting right next to Harry, who turns to the lake once more, seeming fixed on the sun shining in the water. 'Now - care to tell me what happened?'

'You are angry', Harry notes, with a sigh.

'Of course I am angry. I told you not to go after Pettigrew and what did you do?'

'I promised I wouldn't go after Pettigrew, but last night it wasn't him I was after. I was chasing Wormtail'.

James feels the jab, even though Harry doesn't sound particularly accusing.

'Harry -'

'And he had Ron', Harry adds simply. 'He knew I would go after Ron - he told me you would have done the same for him'.

James breathes heavily.

'I would'.

'Why didn't you tell me the story, dad?', Harry asks, sounding hurt, and he turns to James. 'Why did you never tell me that Peter Pettigrew was Wormtail - and everything he did?'

James presses his lips for a moment.

'It wasn't your burden to bear. This was on me. It wasn't you that he betrayed, Harry'.

'I don't think he sees that way', Harry sighs. 'He tried… well, let me tell you the whole story, ok?'

Harry waits until James nods to begin his tale of the last night.

He tells James how he, Ron and Hermione had broken the rules to do company to Hagrid because Buckbeak would be executed and how they had found Scabbers hiding in there. They had tried to return to the castle, but Scabbers had shrieked and bit Ron and then -

'He turned into a man', Harry whispers. 'It was nothing like that photo on wanted posters, I didn't even recognize him right away…'

Harry tells how Pettigrew dragged Ron to under the Whomping Willow, how Hermione's cat had helped them find the secret tunnel and then they had ended up in the Shrieking Shack.

'He said he just wanted to talk, but he looked crazy like… he kept babbling and seeing shadows and he called me by your name more than once'.

'We do look alike', James notes dully. 'And then Sirius came?'

Harry sighs and he explains that Sirius and Remus had followed them.

'Wait, how did they know where you were?'

Harry looks guilty at that.

'Because Remus had the Marauder's Map'.

'What? He found it? He never -'

'He got from me', Harry admits, his voice dropping shame now. 'I… It came to me in December, after...' Harry stops and looks at him with deep sorrow. 'I am sorry, Dad, I really am, I should have told you sooner, but - let me go back at the beginning…'

Then Harry tells, sounding really remorseful, how he got the Marauder's Map (though he doesn't share names, because Harry is loyal), how he was upset that James had forbidden him from going to Hogsmeade and how he had used the Map to go to Hogsmead secretly and then he had listened the story of how the Potters had been betrayed by one of their closest friend.

And how Harry had understood how Wormtail, whose name was written on the Marauder's Map, had been responsible for almost killing them.

'That's why you were withdrawn at Christmas', James says, finally understanding why Harry had seemed upset - he'd thought it was only because of the Hogsmeade permission and because of the accident with Harry's broom.

'I couldn't tell you what I had heard', murmurs Harry. 'And I knew you never liked to talk about it, so… well, anyway, I had the Map until April only -'

As Harry continues his story, James thinks he will have a serious conversation with Remus about friendship coming before being a professor (though Remus will say that as Harry's teacher he shouldn't also share a Marauder's secret - it's complicated, he supposes).

Then Harry talks about how Sirius and Remus incarcerated Peter.

'He kept telling he wanted to tell his story, that he was sorry, so sorry', Harry whispers. 'And I asked them to let him, I thought… maybe there was some excuse, maybe we had understood all wrong somehow… And he tried to explain, Wormtail, he told your story… how you turn into animagi for Remus... how he was always your friend and how Voldemort had tricked him…'

James' hand acts on its own, raising to grab Harry's shoulder. Harry turns to him with a sad smile.

'I think they wanted to believe him', he whispers. 'Remus and Sirius, I mean. Pettigrew kept talking about being sorry for everything, how he never wanted to betray any of us, and - there was a moment where Sirius and Remus lowered their wands… then Snape came'.

And with evident annoyance, Harry tells how Snape had come and had belittled them for being stupid enough to fall for Pettigrew's fake weakness again and how Sirius and Snape had fought.

'Snape cast this nasty spell, he hit Sirius… then I disarmed Snape, except Ron and Hermione did too, and he fell unconscious'. Harry rolls his eyes, unconcerned. 'I saw Snape last night, he is not happy with me. Not that he ever is -'

'So you jinxed your professor', James notes, thinking he should sound stern, even if he doesn't really understand why Snape had to stick his nose on that story when it had nothing to do with him.

'Yeah', Harry blushes, at least not seeming proud of it. 'Then…'

He tells how they revived Sirius and how Sirius had actually said Snape was right. They shouldn't trust Peter again.

'Wormtail screamed like if Sirius was giving him a death sentence', Harry whispers, his voice distant. 'And it was… he begged them, and he begged me, he said… he said you would have understood. You would have forgiven him'.

James' grasp on Harry is harder, but Harry doesn't seem to notice.

'Sirius told me Peter would have watched me die, would have watched you die, without turning a hair because he valued his life more than any of ours. He accused Wormtail of selling information for Voldemort for at least one year before his downfall…'

'We always knew there was a spy', James says, forcing himself to release his hand on Harry's shoulder so he doesn't hurt him without meaning to. 'But I could never believe it was one of them… any of them'.

'He admitted', Harry says, with a grimace, as if he wished he was saying something different to his father. 'He confessed he was the spy and that he had been almost ever since leaving school… and he asked what he should have done, with Voldemort gathering so much power'.

'He should have died', James whispers. 'Died rather than betraying his friends, because -'

' - that's what you would have done for him', Harry finishes for James, with a sigh. 'That's what Sirius said. Then Remus told him that he should have known… if Voldemort didn't kill him, they would. They raised their wands… and that's where I stopped them. I placed myself in front of their wands, in front of Wormtail'.

'You?', asks James, surprised. He'd thought sense had come to Sirius and Remus.

'I told them you wouldn't like them to become murderers because of him. I - I thought how you once saved Snape from Sirius' prank because you didn't want any of them to feel guilty of killing someone and how… even if you never liked Snape, there are some lines you don't cross'. Harry pauses, looking more troubled than any fourteen-year-old should feel. 'Was I wrong?'

There is a desperate need for validation on Harry's face, but James looks beyond his son, over the lake, and if he closes his eyes he can hear the sound of four teenagers sharing a carefree laugh at the edge of the lake.

There are many questions he would like an answer to, but the one he always comes back to is "why?". Somehow, he doubts even Wormtail really knows why he did everything and why he betrayed his friends.

And if Wormtail was right in front of him - older and weaker and alone -, James likes to think he would have felt the same pity that Harry felt. In the end, Wormtail did not win in what mattered the most. Harry is alive.

And Prongs, Padfoot and Moony are still together.

'No, you did right', he whispers. 'I never thought if I wanted him dead or not - there was so much happening right after Voldemort fell, that the first time I thought about him was when Sirius came to tell us he was dead. I guess I was just so used to him being dead that I never wondered if... If I got the chance, if I had him at my mercy… I don't know. I like to think I would have done the same'.

He hears Harry breathing again at his side.

'I thought about the dementors and that if someone deserved Azkaban, it would be him', Harry explains. 'But then all hell broke loose'.

Then Harry finishes the story as James had heard already from Dumbledore, telling about how Remus forgot to drink his Wolfsbane Potion and how Pettigrew had escaped, but the dementors had been drawn to his presence anyway.

'It was chaos', Harry says in a low voice. 'Sirius had drifted away to control Remus and it had worked because the werewolf ran to the forest, but Sirius was hurt -'

'It was always a two-man job', James notes. 'Or two animals. With only one of us it was too difficult, and the werewolf was not used to being controlled after years of Wolfsbane Potion'.

Harry sighs.

'And then the dementors came. I don't think they cared who they were kissing, and I tried to cast the Patronus just as Uncle Moony taught me. But… I couldn't'.

James feels goosebumps over his body, imagining the despair Harry must have felt then, with a hundred dementors upon him and Sirius - but he has no idea how they escaped.

'And what happened? Snape -'

'No, he was still knocked out… I was almost losing consciousness too, but then I saw…' Harry smiles now, looking at James with nothing but love in his eyes. 'You. Prongs saved us'.

James blinks, confused. 'I wasn't there - what do you mean?'

Harry lifts his wand and points to the lake.

'Expecto Patronum!', he cries, and from the point of his wand, somehow brighter than the sun reflecting in the lake, comes out a beautiful stag, who runs to the lake before vanishing in a wisp of air.

A warm feeling spreads through James' body and he stares at the place the Patronus vanished, somehow as lost for words as he felt the first time he ever saw Harry, just after he was born. He remembers looking at that tiny fragile baby, all wrapped in a blanket and crying out loud, knowing no words could explain what he was feeling then. They, he and Lily, had made that precious thing.

'He is perfect', was the first thing he said after several minutes, when Harry was quieter and Lily had helped him hold his son for the first time. James' arms were trembling, but he managed to hold Harry, until his son slept in his arms.

James loves Harry ever since he knew of his existence, but there are moments where that love threatens to overwhelm and scare him a little too. He understands his love for his parents, for his friends and for Lily. But that paternal love for Harry - a mix of his desire that Harry gets to be free to live fully, but also a need of protecting him against all evil, so nothing can ever hurt him - he feels he will never be able to truly understand.

And now, seeing that Harry's Patronus is his stag, it's James, really, he feels that his desire of protecting Harry is being achieved. He will always be with Harry.

Harry begins talking again, explaining about Time Turners and James refuses to think of the time paradox there, instead focusing on the satisfied smile that comes out on Harry's face as he speaks of saving Buckbeak, and then how he accepted he couldn't try to change time to catch Wormtail.

'I couldn't risk', he says, distressed. 'Hermione was right, if anyone saw us, if I changed anything - Sirius could be kissed'.

And so could Harry, but James knows Harry always thinks of others first. His son is too selfless sometimes, but as much as this worries James, it also fills him with a burning pride.

'When the time came, I kept thinking you would appear, until - until I finally understood. I had seen myself - but also you too. And I thought how you were always there for me, how much I wanted - I wanted to be like you'. Harry flushes and ignores the way James' eyes are sparkling now. 'Then Prongs came to life. I guess - all four Marauders were here last night'.

James hears once more the ghost of the laughs and he thinks how many times they had sat together around the lake, in September or in late spring, studying and joking and planning one of their pranks. Life at Hogwarts had been easier.

Except sometimes he wonders if Wormtail's rupture began even at Hogwarts, when he felt left out or lesser than his friends, when he wasn't as admired as James or as cherished as Sirius or as lovable as Remus. But this question is much like time paradoxes: James will get mad trying to understand it.

'We never left', James says at least. 'The Marauders were made to stay at Hogwarts'.

Harry smiles softly.

'Moony gave me the Marauder's Map back. He says he doesn't feel guilty now he is not my teacher anymore'.

James sighs. He hasn't seen Remus yet - he had left Hogwarts as soon as he could -, but Dumbledore had told him about his resignation after his secret had slipped out. This thought causes a wave of fury in him - it took Snape almost twenty years, but he finally managed to tell Remus' secret, that git.

'Can I keep it?', Harry asks, and James can see the greed in his eyes, how much he wants to save the Map for himself.

The responsible part of him - the one that made him Head Boy and that drove him to hide instead of fight when Harry was being hunted by Voldemort - wants to get the Map back. But the other part - the one who helped create that Map, who is always thrilled for adventures and adrenaline - tells him it wouldn't be fair. He'd want Harry to know Hogwarts' secrets.

And Harry would get himself into trouble anyway.

'It's your legacy', he says, making Harry beam. Lily will shake her head at the idea of Harry getting involved into even more confusion, but James will cover that for him.

At least this one. There are other aspects he can't ignore.

'Do you believe in prophecies?', Harry asks suddenly, turning to him with a serious face, and James forces himself not to grimace.

'Some people do', he says vaguely, thinking back of that night Dumbledore had summoned him and Lily, as well as Frank and Alice, to tell them grave news. 'I like to think we make our own destiny'.

Harry looks at him with a resolute expression, taking in James' answer. As Lily says with half-amusement and half-exasperation, Harry always heeds his father's words better than anyone else's.

'Good. Me too'. Harry sighs. 'Dumbledore told me someday I might be glad that I saved Wormtail's life. That he is in debt with me, just as Snape is with you'.

James gives Harry a knowing look.

'Let me guess, you want that debt as much as I want old Snape's debt'.

'I don't want any connection with him', agrees Harry. 'He betrayed you. You - you could have died'.

'I could. And even if I had, it would not change much, I hope'. He puts an arm around Harry's shoulder, and Harry accepts his embrace. 'Even if I were dead, I would always love and be with you'.

'I am glad you are here', Harry whispers, his voice breaking at the thought of his father dead, and he turns his face away from James.

James allows his son one moment of privacy, before grinning.

'Let's hope you still think so after this summer', he says brightly. 'As much as proud of you as I am, you did ignore me and went to Hogsmeade hidden, and you went after Wormtail - you are so grounded this summer'.

Harry groans.

'Oh, yes. We will talk about your chores - and no complaints, or I will even revoke us going to the Quidditch World Cup'.

Harry throws a scandalized look at James.

'You wouldn't!'

'Well, you are right, I wouldn't. No messing with Quidditch. But if you want to go to Hogsmeade next year, then I expect a lot of work - I'm thinking of the garden and cleaning the attic at least'.

'You are the worst', Harry moans, but James knows his son doesn't really think so, and Harry knows he knows.

It works for both of them.


Harry is fourteen when Wormtail ties him to a gravestone, cuts him, takes his blood and helps to resurrect Voldemort.

That drives James to the edge.

Everything is stressful that summer. Harry is shut and brooding and so full of everything that for the first time in his life he actually screams madly at James and Lily, demanding to have answers even if he doesn't even know what his questions are. Lily is worried about everything, her nerves worn thin, and the fact that they now have to live on Grimmauld Place until Harry returns to school doesn't help her. Even Sirius, who James can always count on to be on the same page as him, is dark and sulking because he is away from work and locked inside his parent's house most of the time.

James deals with all of them because he is good at helping other people and solving their problems. He lets Harry scream at him and he hugs him when Harry's tired of screaming. He hears Lily's worries and he helps her see everything will be alright. He takes Sirius off Grimmauld Place as much as he can, and if not, he tries to give him happier memories of that bloody house.

It's his own problems that James can't handle very well.

Lily sees through him but James doesn't think she can understand this one. Peter was her friend, but not like he once was James, so Lily doesn't feel particularly betrayed by the fact that it was Peter that bleed Harry and let him to die - again - despite the fact that Harry once saved his life.

That summer, finding Peter becomes an obsession for James. He can't help but think that if he had tried to find him last year, maybe things could have been different. Everytime James sees the faint scar on Harry's arm, fury washes over him.

He searches through Sirius' notes, talks with Kingsley and even tries to ask Snape if he knows something. Snape looks at him with disdain - nothing new there -, but for some reason, James believes when Snape tells him that whatever he's being hiding, Wormtail is safe for now.

'The Dark Lord despises him', Snape explains coolly. 'He knows your friend is a vermin. But he was useful, so your friend is being protected'.

Snape always likes to remember James that Peter was once James' friend, probably enjoying how this hurts James, even though James never takes his bait. He learned a long time ago that ignoring Snape annoys him much more than answering back and, in any case, he has bigger problems than worrying about a school feud that he really thinks Snape should be over by now.

'Let me know if you learn anything useful', it's all James says, and he ignores how Snape seems affronted at this.

'He could be dead if your son hadn't been so noble', Snape whispers softly, and he leaves before James can say anything.

It doesn't matter. Even if James sometimes agrees with him, he wouldn't say anything. Most of the time he still believes Harry did the right thing. He doesn't want a murder in Sirius or Remus' consciousness.

On his own, James thinks he could deal with.

But despite his best efforts, he never gets any closer to finding Wormtail. A rat always knows how to hide.

Still, his obsession almost cost him Lily and Harry, and James promises to himself that one day he will find Wormtail, but never at the cost of what Peter almost took away from him once.


Harry is seventeen when he tells James that Peter is dead.

It's in April. They know they shouldn't, but James and Lily keep visiting Shell Cottage to assist Harry as much as they can before he leaves again, even though Harry isn't asking for any assistance.

He looks more reserved than ever, vanishing for hours with Ron, Hermione and the goblin Griphook of all beings, and James has planned enough pranks in his life to know they are plotting something about that mysterious mission that Dumbledore left for them.

The one that Harry absolutely refused to tell his parents about.

James sees the impact of that mission on Harry. His son looks much older than his age, much graver and sorrowful than James would like. They all look like they've been through hell - they have cuts and they are thin and they look scared, but that trio refuses to speak of where they've been and what they've done.

'Not yet', Harry says, when James asks him. 'When this is over, we will talk'.

James wonders when it will all be over, but he knows Harry wouldn't answer that either. At some point, Harry grabbed the world, put it on his shoulder, and decided to walk carrying it on. He wishes that Harry would not give himself so much responsibility - or that he would share the weight at least.

On the last day of April, James is in the living room of Shell Cottage when he sees Harry, Ron and Hermione descending the stairs from another of their talks with Griphook. They all look more serious; while Hermione goes to check her things, Ron drifts off in search of his brother and Harry stops in front of James and Lily.

He looks first at his mother, and James sees they are in one of their moments of silent communication, that sharp understanding between them that James could never grasp really.

Lily sees more things in Harry's face than James ever could, and whatever she sees, it doesn't make her happy. James is about to question what this is about when Harry turns to him.

'Can we talk alone?'

Harry's face is grave, so James only nods. He raises, following Harry as he leaves the cottage, passing Dobby's grave and walking until they stand at the edge of a cliff overseeing the sea. He saw Harry in that spot before, looking all contemplative, but Harry never shared his thoughts with him.

It hurts a little to see his son so distant, as if Harry doesn't trust his father anymore, as much as it makes him satisfied that Harry is an adult now, able to make his own decisions.

He only wishes Harry got to be a kid before growing up.

Harry turns to him and now James can recognize the expression on his face. It's the same he had over the summer, before he vanished at the wedding.

The face of someone who is leaving and doesn't know when - or if - will be back.

'We are leaving tomorrow', Harry announces and though James already expected to hear it, this sentence still fills him with despair and fear.

He can't ask where Harry will go and he can't ask when he is going to return. And he can't ask Harry to don't go. They had fought over this all summer (at least James had because Harry had just looked at him as if he had lived a thousand of lives and he had listened and looked sorrowful, but Harry had refused to say anything about his mission or to give up his idea of going).

His brave marvellous son is too stubborn sometimes.

So James ignores all his deep urge to grab Harry and run, choosing to respect his son, and asks:

'Will you be safe?'

'I think so', Harry answers and James loves and hates that he is being honest instead of promising something he can't control. 'We've planned this over and over'.

'Like you planned that break in the Ministry?'

Harry flushes at this, but he doesn't say anything. That adventure of his was in the newspaper, for Merlin's sake, and still he refuses to say a word about why they did it or what they accomplished.

'Better, I hope', James says for him. 'Just tell me I won't hear about it in the newspaper again'.

Harry almost smiles at this; it's just a shadow, but it's a Marauder's smile, and it fills James' heart to the brim to know that Harry is still capable of it after everything he has been through.

Then Harry sighs and looks at the sea again.

'There is something I need to tell you before I leave'.

Just in case I don't return, Harry doesn't say but James hears it anyway.

'Pettigrew is dead'.

This is not what James expected to hear. He blinks, astonished, and hears as Harry explains mildly what happened at Malfoy Manor.

'His silver hand killed him?', James repeats in a low voice. 'The one Vol - You-Know-Who gave him?'

'Yeah. I think he always knew…'

'Of his debt?'

Harry shrugs.

'I don't think he minded that. It's the kind of thing he wouldn't believe in, like love and fairy tales or life debts'.

Harry speaks with a gloomy perspective of Voldemort's feeling that makes James shivers.

'I think he knew that some part of Wormtail regretted it. A tiny part, but it was enough'. Harry sighs heavily. 'We were struggling and I told him he owned me his life and… that you would be ashamed of him'.

James grabs Harry's arm, but Harry still looks far away.

'He didn't release me, but for a moment, a fraction of a second, he hesitated. And then the hand turned against him. There was nothing we could do'.

'Of course not', James agrees absently, just following his instinct of comforting Harry. Then he registers what Harry said. 'You tried to save him'.

Harry doesn't answer, but he doesn't need to. James knows his son and, God bless him, his heart is always in the right place.

'Why did you never talk to me about Wormtail?', Harry asks, and James thinks that's a question that has been bothering his son for many years now. 'You told me once about Pettigrew, and you told me about Wormtail, but you never told me the whole story'.

In the end it did not matter because Harry had known in any case, but James feels suddenly ashamed.

'I was embarrassed', he says in a low voice. 'To ashamed to confess that everything that happened with us - your scar, the prophecy coming true - was because I put my faith in the wrong person, that I was too blind to believe my friend -'

'It was not your fault, dad. You know, Remus once told me I was like you, too quick to consider dishonor to believe that a friend would betray me, and… he was right, but I'm proud of being like that. It's better than living with fear. And if people don't correspond to what we believe of them - that's their loss. Not ours'.

Harry is looking at him with so much serenity that for an instant James feels more like the son than the father. In fact, now he sees, he realizes they are the same size now; there are differences of age and, of course, in the eyes, but they could be twins if seen from afar.

He wonders when Harry grew up so much and how much he really influenced his son. He hopes it was a lot, because he is really happy and proud with the man Harry is becoming.

James approaches him quietly, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and for a moment they both stay looking at the ocean.

'Are you glad?', Harry asks in a whisper. 'That Peter died?'

James thinks of when catching Peter was a desperate need as if that somehow would solve all the problems that Peter had caused.

He remembers that fury he felt when Sirius told him Peter was still alive.

He remembers that trembling first-year boy in their dormitory, who wanted to be their friend, who looked up to James.

And he feels a longing for a time that was good, but he can't go back and he can't change what happened. Peter had made his own choices, just as everyone else did.

And he had made the last choice of regretting what he had done, consciously or not, and had died because of it.

But the fact is that Harry is here, alive. That's all he ever asked of Peter.

'I'm not glad', James whispers at least. 'But I'm also not sad. My friend was gone a long time ago'.

Harry gives him a long look and James thinks he doesn't agree totally with him, but Harry doesn't say anything. Lily would probably know what he means, and James never learned how to read Harry that well, but he doesn't mind.

Someday Harry will explain to him what he is thinking. Harry always tells him in the end.

'Be careful tomorrow', he says. 'And after that. Send us some news if you can - just to let us know…'

Let us know you're alive, James thinks, but he doesn't finish. Harry seems to understand, however. He nods and takes a deep breath, before turning to James with a hopeful smile.

'Let's go back for dinner?'

James almost says no. He thinks he can't endure the feeling of sharing a meal with Harry and Lily and wondering if this will be the last meal they share; but the last time Harry went away, the feeling of not even remembering what was the last thing he'd said to Harry had been worse.

He wants a - not last, not ever the last one - dinner with Harry, and to hug him - not goodbye, but a good night - and to remember Harry that no matter what, they will see each other again. And, as Harry's patronus won't let them forget, James is always with his son.

So James puts a brave smile on his face, messes with Harry's hair in that way that makes Harry look pleasantly annoyed, and they return together to Shell Cottage.