James wakes up the next morning and wonders why there's a mirror in his bed and were his eyes always green – oh wait a second.

Harry was given his own room last night but he followed James straight to his bed and James shrugged it off. It's super cute how clingy Harry is.

Harry blinks back at James from the other side of the large bed and also seems to be having problems because he holds up a hand and sort of pauses, as if confused why James' hand isn't coming up.

"That's going to take a while to get used to," James muses, patting around the side table for his glasses.

Harry startles. "Oh, I thought I was dead."

"I was thinking mirror but dead is fine too," James offers up.

"-and this is where I hide Sirius when his family storms in trying to drag him back," James introduces, gesturing at the room under the stairs because he's getting side-tracked very easily while giving Harry a tour. "He's a bit too big now but I can cram him in there when it counts."

Harry is leaning over, hands on his knees to peer inside, past various miscellaneous items that have been tossed in there. "Now that I think about it, my cupboard was pretty big."

"How many Sirius' could you fit in your one?" James jokes.

"Three Padfoot's lengthwise and two crouching Sirius' for the width," Harry muses. "Adult versions, I mean, I don't actually know how big he is now."

"He's about a Remus and one thumb tall," James explains.

"Okay great, and what's the height difference between young Remus and old Professor Lupin?"

"Professor-!" James cracks up laughing so hard he just wheezes and can't calm down for a good five minutes.

James opens the bedroom door and sees Harry already making himself comfortable in James' bed. "You're back."

Harry looks up, holding a pillow. "Yeah?"

"Do you not like your bed?" James asks in confusion. "You can pick another room if you want."

Harry looks around. "Oh. No, I was just…I was going to my room. In a little bit."

James shrugs and takes a running jump onto the bed. "Hey, did I tell you the time when we set up an obstacle course for Moony? I'll tell you now, it did not go to plan - entirely Moony fault for not cooperating."

"You can call me dad, by the way," James tells Harry over lunch because it sounds great coming from his adorable son.

Fleamont hums. "I don't think that's a good habit to get into considering Harry is older than you."

"People will think it's a joke," James scoffs. "For like a month I got Sirius to call m-me…"

"Yes, muffin?" Euphemia says with a raised eyebrow.

"Nothing," James says earnestly, peering at her with wide eyes. "Great food, mum."

James elbows Harry and Harry peers at Euphemia with wide eyes. "Great food, grandma."

Euphemia lets that one slide because Harry is very sweet and so uncorrupted (unlike James).

Since Sirius and Remus sent the invisibility cloak over by mail, James takes the opportunity to show Harry how to use it properly. Stealing snacks, as intended.

It's not exactly exciting but they eat chocolate cake huddled together on the rooftop with the cloak wrapped around their shoulders and fall asleep up there, Harry's cheek mushed against James' shoulder and James leaning on Harry's head, both their glasses pushed askew, chocolate smeared at the corners of their mouths.

Fleamont has to levitate them down to get them into their beds for the night.

James stands from the couch and so does Harry.

James picks up his glass of water from the other side of the coffee table, just too far from him to reach without getting up, and sits down again.

Harry also sits down, reassured that James isn't leaving the room.

"You good?" James asks, amused.

"I was stretching," Harry says, trying for casual and failing.

James is screaming as they dive straight down, clinging to Harry's waist on the backseat of the broom.

Euphemia is out on the lawn sipping tea and reading the paper, absolutely unconcerned because James has been screaming for a while now and no one has yet to die so she's pretty sure Harry knows how to fly a broom.

It's a bit difficult with a screaming passenger but Harry manages to successfully demonstrate a Wronski Feint, which has yet to be invented currently so James thinks they're dying.

Harry pulls up at the last moment, their feet just barely missing skimming the grass because Harry corrected it for the added weight but not for the old styled broom he's using.

"And that's it," Harry explains calmly, doing a lazy circle back around. "Not complicated but it needs a lot of practice."

James is panting, both from the massive adrenalin rush and from screaming so much. "Let's do that again, but from higher."

"How high?" Harry asks, starting an ascent.

"As high as you bloody well can, Harry, I want to feel my soul leaving my body."

James and Harry are lying on the floorboards of the trick hallway you can only get to by taking four right turns to complete a circle, on their stomachs with their ears pressed to the ground.

"Can you hear it?" James whispers.

"The heartbeat?" Harry says, voice just as quiet, feeling the warmth through the floor.

"Yeah, it's the body of the Potter Family Magic, just underneath here." James closes his eyes and focuses. "You power it, and it powers us. Protection when we're younger, an extra boost when we gain control of it."

"How strong is it?" Harry asks, a contemplative look on his face.

"It was fed for over a millennia on the Potter line – and further back, from when we didn't have a last name. It's more than strong enough for whatever you need. I think mum and dad want to hook you up to it too, but I'm not sure if it will recognise you considering the time travel."

"Can it…" Harry pauses. "Can it block curses? The killing curse?"

"What?" James blurts out, eyes snapping open. He laughs. "No bloody way. I mean - well, it'd take a lot of power for that. Like sacrificial power, if it drained me or something it'd block anything for mum and dad. Fiendfyre, a goblin army, nothing would get through it."

"So, theoretically," Harry begins. "If, say, your mum and dad offered themselves…"

"I'd be strongest wizard alive," James states. "For all of ten minutes, but I could take on Merlin himself no problem."

"Are all Family Magics like that?"

"No, the Potter line feeds it magic and it builds for a rainy day scenario, but if you're Black you get a permanent magical boost after a ritual even if it isn't nearly as ridiculously strong." James furrows his brow, thinking. "Hm, there's are families that receive lesser Seer gifts, one with easier wandless magic, and I think there was a bloodline with weather magic."

James shrugs. "All sorts of stuff, but it's kinda private – some families gain it through birth but others need rituals and it's gets pretty gory."

"And your one?"

"Our, Harry. Our."

"Our one," Harry corrects and smiles a little bit.

James knocks on the wood. "You go down, under the floorboards, and you sleep down there in the heart, for days, weeks, years maybe. When you're in the heart, you walk with death – you don't age, you don't dream."

"You don't know how long it'll take?" Harry asks worriedly. "How many times do you have to do that?"

"You do it as many times and for however long as it wants you to," James admits. "That's the price for being able to cheat fate, for storing so much magic it takes on a mind of its own. It's a parasite, or a home-grown elder god."

James pauses in the doorway, half out of the living room, and turns back to Harry. "Um, I'm going to the bathroom."

"Okay," Harry says.

They go to the bathroom together and James stops at the door. "You can go first."

"I don't need to go."

"So you…just want to wait outside for me?" James asks hesitantly.

Harry looks away and then looks back. "Is that…okay?" Harry tilts his head and his hair flops with the motion.

James resolves to tilts his head more because it looks super cute on Harry and they basically have the same hair. "It's cool," James reassures. "But you just follow me a lot. Everywhere. And you sneak into my room at night to check in on me."

"You were awake?" Harry cries in shock.

"There's a spell that tallies who comes in – mum tries to secretly curate my wardrobe and I'm not into that," James explains. "And I get that you're in a new time and everything is confusing but also maybe you need to talk it out and calm down?"

"I can stop," Harry says quickly. "Sorry. I can…stop."

"Do you want to tell me why you're so…" James trails off. "Paranoid? Because when I leave the room you're in, you get a little bit distressed."

Harry purses his lips. "Just - new place. You know."

"You can start sleeping in my room again if you want," James says simply. "I mean, I don't know if that would make your...thing worse though?"

Harry does a weird three-step shuffle. "I think it would help."

"Sure, anything else?"

Harry looks away, looks back. "We should hold hands."

"Alright." James takes a step into the bathroom. "I'm gonna use the restroom and then we can hold hands for the rest of the day."

Harry smiles brightly even though he tries to suppress it.

"So you don't have to listen at the door like you usually do," James continues.

The smile drops off Harry's face. "I-! You – know about. It's not – weird – not in a weird way."

James slowly backs into the room and shuts the door.

"James!" Harry cries. "James, I promise, not in a weird way."