Severus Snape was not wallowing. Wallowing was for other people, ones that hadn't condemned their only friend to death.

What did his own problems matter? Wizards and witches were finally free from tyranny, after years of disappearances and deaths and unknown circumstances. Cursed people were beginning to wake up, and Death Eaters were going to Azkaban.

The Dark Lord was gone; the Wizarding world rejoiced, but Severus couldn't. Lily was dead.

Lily Evans (right now, he couldn't add the surname Potter, even in his head) was dead at the hands of a madman, and it was his fault, Severus's. She had put her trust in the wrong person, and now she was gone. The girl who had shared her sweets, who had invited the ragged boy into her home, his best friend, his Lily...

Severus shook his head violently and added beetle eyes at random to the Dreamless Sleep potion he was stirring. It would probably explode in his face.

He would deserve it.

0o0o0o0

James pulled on his freshly cleaned, bright red Auror robes and observed his reflection in the mirror. He looked...not bad, considering. Hair was as neat as it would ever get, his stubble managed to not look patchy, and his glasses tied everything together. He looked older, like an Auror, and even though he was on light duty until he finished his requalifications, he was ready to be back in the office, working on something meaningful.

It had been three weeks since Lily's death, and James was doing better, he thought. He and Harry had moved into their new home, an airy, open cottage by Tinsworth. There was a cellar (which James had already started strengthening), and a large, expansive garden. The furniture was almost all new, save a couple of pieces that had been salvaged from Godric's Hollow. The little house was starting to feel like a home.

It wasn't perfect - James wasn't sure anything could be perfect again - but it was nice, and quiet, and it was theirs.

The morning did not go as pleasantly as James had been expecting.

According to the Auror Office, light duty for a fully-qualified (if junior) Auror meant filing paperwork. And James, like all good Aurors, hated paperwork.

Still though, he spent three distasteful hours sorting reports. He recognized the names on several of them. It looked like they were mostly case files of arrests since Halloween, and there were…a lot of them. Several held names he recognized. Some of them were even Aurors. James wasn't surprised, but whenever he saw an officer's name, he felt a twinge of betrayal. It wasn't right, that someone who had sworn to uphold and follow the law had broken it, and to follow such a madman was even worse.

He took a break to clear his head; maybe walk to the café and buy a Cauldron Cake, but instead of cheering him up, the walk past so many empty offices shot his mood even lower than before.

The day still would have been fine, James maintained, had he not run into Crouch around lunchtime. James had never disliked Crouch, exactly, always tried to remain professionally neutral. Crouch was a stickler, through and through, and while the rulebreaking Marauder spirit had never truly died, James elected to place it on a back burner, so as to not completely burn bridges with the man who was supposed to be the next Minister of Magic.

"My condolences, Potter," Crouch said stiffly as they passed each other in the corridor.

"Thank you, sir," James said, used to the sympathy by now. "Sir," he asked, struck by inspiration, "I've got a question, and I think you're the one who can help me."

"If it is in my power, I shall do what I can," Crouch said, though he seemed somewhat wary.

"Well," James started, feeling somewhat uncomfortable now that he had started speaking, "I was wondering what someone would have to do if they knew that there was an innocent man in Azkaban, and what to do to get him out."

Crouch surveyed him contemptuously. "Potter, that is absurd," he said. "And besides - the Ministry of Magic is far too concerned with catching actual criminals to pay attention to what may - eventually - be described as a slight miscarriage of justice -"

"Excuse me, Mr. Crouch, but what part of 'sent to the Dementors without trial' is only a slight miscarriage of justice?" James interrupted. "Sir, I understand that we are coming off of the greatest war in Wizarding history, but this is ridiculous, to make assumptions and send people to maximum security on an assumption."

"The public needs to feel safe in their own beds!"

"The public needs to know that they won't be unjustly painted as a criminal because of their family!" James bellowed back. "Sir, I absolutely oppose the Dark Arts, but without any sort of trial -"

"The evidence is overwhelming against him, Potter," Crouch said dismissively. "The only one who could have betrayed you and Lily, rest her soul -"

"NO ONE HAS EVEN ASKED ME WHO THE SECRET-KEEPER ACTUALLY WAS," James shouted, more frustrated than he had even been. "Sirius Black did not betray me, he tried to bring the actual criminal to justice, and it backfired on him. I can prove it, Pettigrew was an illegal Animagus, he's a rat, that's how -"

"I WILL NOT BE TOLD OFF IN MY OWN DEPARTMENT," Crouch shouted back, looking quite mad. "Potter, there are actual criminals that the Ministry is catching, and if one man has to wait before the truth is brought to light, then that is what has to happen. I assure you, the Ministry of Magic is performing as well as can be expected under the unusual circumstances."

James clenched his hands, disguising the way they were shaking in anger, and turned on his heel to go back to the Auror office. He had started back on the detestable reports when Mad-Eye Moody sat down on the corner of his desk.

"Not the wisest move, antagonizing Barty Crouch," he said, low and harsh. Moody always spoke as though there was someone listening around the corner.

"He's an idiot," James muttered.

"He's also set to be the next Minister of Magic," Moody said, in the same careful tone of voice. "You need to be careful."

"He needs to do his job and give suspects fair trials," James shot back.

"I'm not saying you're wrong." Mad-Eye stood. "But I am telling you to watch your back 'round here, Potter. Antagonizing powerful men like old Barty isn't the solution, though I will admit that it's damned satisfying."

"What do I do, then?" James asked. He hoped he didn't sound as desperate as he felt.

"Use your head, Potter," Moody snapped.

James scowled at the blasted reports in front of him, but did not say anything.

"Think about it," Moody said. "Black was an idiot when he went alone after one of Voldemort's followers, but he doesn't deserve the Dementors for that."

James rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Moody," he muttered.

He felt so helpless.

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