Voldemort summons them both a few hours before they're meant to head out to inspect how they dressed themselves and honestly, James just can't muster up the seriousness to be wary of the Dark Lord when the man is acting like James' mum.

James' dress robes (and so Harry's clothes as well) are made of deep, dark earthy browns of healthy soil, lined in dusty clay reds.

The main feature, however, is the outer robe made of demuguise fur - aged so the invisibility has worn off so the silver colour comes through but the shimmer is still layer on top like heat waves off a road.

James holds out his arms and does a spin. When the outer robe moves it ripples smoothly like water and catches the light. "Am I presentable or shall I shame you?"

Harry elbows James.

"You're passable," Voldemort allows. "Don't eat anything there – fey have been invited and they drug everything."

"Can I do the poison transfiguration thing?" James asks. "I forgot the name."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

James thinks hard for a moment. "Like it was invented for when people give you veritaserum and you change it to water instead?"

"That depends how good your transfiguration is," Voldemort says sceptically and makes James demonstrate because he is a Dark Lord and he will not be embarrassed by these two children.

In the quick hour they have left, while Voldemort is off telling his snakes to behave or something, James also teaches Harry how to do the trick.

"So basically I only use it when I want to try a weird little fancy treat, and if it tastes like garbage you can transfigure it into chocolate instead of being impolite and spitting it out," James explains. "Very important part of etiquette; fake enjoying things you hate."

"Behave and stay out of my way unless I call you over," Voldemort orders before picking up a handful of floo powder.

The second they step through the floo, the haze reaches them, a glittery cloud shifting up against the ceiling. Voldemort strides through easily but James inhales and a light blue glow emerges from his temples.

Antlers form from mist, branching off James' head where they curve out and then up and back as a branching crown of bone. Jewels are embedded in the ethereal and transparent antlers, diamonds and pearls and white opals cut through with rivers of rainbow sheen.

Tiny crystals are strung together, draped over the antlers and dangling down like delicate dew drops on spider webs. The soft light of his crown reflects off his silver outer robes and makes his whole body dimly glow.

James reaches up to his new accessory with a laugh but his hand passes right through. He turns and the crystals clink lightly together, musically, but his excited smiles drops off in shock when he sees Harry.

Harry's eyes are glowing, a bright and eerie green so strong that it washes out his own colours and makes him seem pale and ghostly. Deep shadows are etched around his form, swirling at his feet, trailing a little behind when he moves. The ends flicker, less like a powder and more like fire. A bright, blood red mark traces his lightning bolt scar, over and over like waves on a beach, pulsing like it has its own heartbeat.

Harry doesn't even notice his appearance change, he's too busy staring at James dazedly. "Y-your antlers are beautiful."

James laughs and bats a hand through the shadows near Harry's shoulder and almost seems to feel it stick to him - there's a bit of resistance. "I like what you've got going on, what a dramatic cape."

Harry just keeps staring. "You...look like my patronus."

James smirks. "I'll take on a dementor for you any day."

Harry smiles brightly and finally looks down at himself. "...Huh."

Several other people at the party have animal characteristics, like one man with peacock tail, or a girl with butterfly wings but others are more like Harry with streaks of light in their skin or dancing sparks following them.

Voldemort is the only one with no change at all.

James and Harry end up at a table with little canapes, picking at some things while pointing out people's cool changes.

"I wonder how they made your antlers, what a coincidence," Harry muses.

"It's your own magic that makes it," answers the girl with butterfly wings a few steps away, also looking over the table. "The potion brings out your magic, loosens the tethers - both so you can't attack anyone here in neutral grounds and to show off how strong your magic is."

She looks Harry up and down. "Yours is basically solid, that's impressive."

"Thanks," Harry says and peers at her flattened butterfly wings, a brilliant blue and black with trailing tips. "Yours are solid too."

"Not at all," she scoffs and turns on a heel, wings passing straight through the table.

"What happens if you don't get anything?" James asks, sliding a glance towards the corner of the room where Voldemort is talking to some old people.

"Then you have such tight control over your magic that the potion can't loosen it." She shrugs and the wings move with the motion.

Another boy walks over then, coming to a stop beside the butterfly girl but far enough away that they're just acquaintances instead of friends. His skin is split by rivers of deep purple light and he holds a glass of red wine in hand.

James cuts him off before he manages to say anything. "Wine? Are you seriously drinking that, at our age?"

The boy frowns, eyes narrowing. "And who might you be?"

"The best smuggler of firewiskey in Hogwarts," James replies smugly. "Oh, actually, that reminds me of a great story when Sirius found a new room to store the stock in."

The boy raises an eyebrow at butterfly girl and she just shrugs.

"I wonder who that one is," muses the Korean Prime Minister, nodding to the other side of the room. "I don't think I've seen him before."

Voldemort already knows what's over there, the boy is certainly being loud enough to amass a crowd. Mostly of other children but some adults are lingering.

"The two identical boys are mine," Voldemort says easily. "I told them I was going to a 'party' and they kicked up such a fuss, I had to bring them."

"Well done with them," the Prime Minister chuckles. "You must embarrassed to be stuck with me instead. That girl with the butterfly wings is the next Empress of Korea."

"I'm not interested in children's politics," Voldemort dismisses.

Children are so useful, why didn't Voldemort get one before?

Butterfly girl is wiping her eyes with a tissue, trying not to smudge the makeup and failing. The Russian wine boy is massaging his cheeks because they hurt from smiling too much. Another Greek boy covered in gold vines is still panting from his last fit of laughter.

"-so I'm running back through the castle," James continues. "Sorry, I'm limping pathetically through the castle and I find Remus on the third floor - nowhere near the vanishing door mind you. I tell him; Remus, what are you doing here? I've got the bird, we can rescue Sirius now!"

James grabs at his hair, eyes wide. "He tells me, he's like; James, where were you? We've been looking everywhere for you! Sirius already jumped out of the window!"

The crowd bursts into laughter, so loud the rest of the room hushes for a moment.

James splutters, rearing back and throwing out his hands. "What?! So what - I did all that for shits and giggles? What am I supposed to do now - I have the Headmaster's stolen Phoenix stuffed up my bloody shirt!"

Harry staggers, hanging off James' shoulders to keep himself upright because he can perfectly imagine everything that happened, down to Fawkes' expression.

"I try to blame it all on Snape, said some bullshit about him using the bird for potions ingredients," James continues. "But as it turns out, the bloody fried chicken can communicate and rats on me to the Headmaster like the little bitch it is!"

A girl hunches over with hand on her knees, the girl beside her wheezing. A boy has staggered off to brace himself against the food table while another squats on the floor crying with laughter.

.

A/N: Fawkes will swoop James whenever they come across each other, like a giant flaming magpie.