James didn't sleep. Sirius had described once what the pact instincts of his dog half felt like. Like a sixth sense bombarding you with warnings and anxiety. Seemingly random, but never actually unwarranted.

That's not how he felt right now.

James didn't have a sixth sense for danger, no it was every sense that was concerned. Sight, sound, touch, smell, even an awful taste in his mouth told him something was wrong.

Sirius should have called by now. It wasn't really late, only ten in the evening. But Sirius was an early bird. He went to bed at like nine. He wouldn't leave James hanging. Not when he knew James was worried about him. Not when Voldemort was in his sitting room having tea with his demon of a mother.

James couldn't even go downstairs and distract himself with food. That wretched dear-in-the-headlights stillness taking hold of him. Too scared to move, too scared to scream, to scared to cry. He lay there as though if he didn't move he couldn't get hit by the vehicle coming at him at eighty miles an hour.

Someone was pounding on the door.

The car swerved, hitting something else.

Someone else.

Now suddenly mobile James threw himself down the stairs. The knocking on the door becoming more and more frantic. Fleamont and Euphemia were barely out of their room before James was opening the door.

It wasn't Sirius.

He wasn't sure if that was good, or bad.

Pastor Baine looked like he'd ran the three blocks between the church and their house.

"Where are your parents?" He asked in between labored breaths.

"Coming…" James said anxiously, there was blood on the pastor's hands.

"Your friend… the one with the funny name," He looked over James' shoulder at where his parents were coming down the stairs in their nightclothes. James was still wearing a tee shirt and jeans. "He's at the church, he's collapsed. I called an ambulance-"

James didn't hear the rest. He pushed past the man and ran, blood pounding in his ears and a repetition of 'No No No Please No,' going through his head.

Still too scared to cry he threw himself at the church door throwing it open so hard it probably left a hole in the wall.

Hannah was on the floor of the foyer, her pink skirt stained with blood. There was a body under her, a body that wasn't moving.

Sirius wasn't like James. Sirius didn't freeze in the headlights. Sirius moved and dragged anyone he could out with him. Sirius should be moving.

"James, I need you to put pressure on that side. He's bleeding too much."

Again, as though waking from a trance he moved doing exactly what she told him.

He'd left his wand on his bedside table.

James couldn't do any healing spells without his wand.

He didn't care if the pastor's sister was a muggle. Statute of Secrecy be damned he'd have done it anyway. If he hadn't forgotten his wand.

One of these days he'd get himself killed forgetting his wand like that. Or maybe he would today… but not him, someone else.

"What happened?" He asked looking over Sirius. There was a bandage around his head that likely came from the first aid kit sitting beside Hannah, it was already soaked through. The side wound she'd pointed at was also bandaged, but it was taking it's time to turn red. She had hold of Sirius' leg, the bandaging on it was more improvised, likely having run out she'd just used a cloth of some kind.

"I don't know. I heard someone come in and went to see who it was. David's office is just over there so I wasn't worried about a thief or anything. I came out just in time to see him collapse. I ran for the first aid kit and David called an ambulance. They should be here any minute."

James hoped his parents arrived before the muggle ambulance did. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do about them. Could muggle doctors help? None of Sirius' injuries looked particularly magical.

He was spared the decision when his parents and Pastor Baine came flying through the door a moment later. They hadn't forgotten their wands.

"My apologies," Fleamont said to the two muggles as he waved his wand sending them both into a dead faint. Euphemia went straight for Sirius. And James was never more thankful to have an ex-healer for a mother. He was good at healing spells but even he had no idea what she was doing.

"They called an ambulance," James told his dad.

"I know. We'll deal with that when they arrive." Fleamont moved the two muggles so they were comfortably lying on the ground and James felt bad. They'd done their best to help but now they were just in the way.

"How is he?" Fleamont asked his wife and James went back to Sirius, already looking a little better under Euphemia's wand work.

"He's lost far too much blood, but most of it is surface wounds and broken bones. Easy to heal. He'll be alright, it looks worse than it is."

Finally, James cried. Like he'd been given permission. Sirius would be alright. He could have died, blood loss was serious even for wizards. But any healer with even a little training could handle blood loss.

Too old to be getting down on the floor, Fleamont pulled James to his feet for a hug. James didn't pull away until his mother started talking again.

"He's got a concussion too, so it might take him a while to wake up. But that might be for the best. He's going to be pretty sore for quite a while." Euphemia finished, "Fleamont the muggles have arrived."

Fleamont ruffled James' hair before stepping outside. James couldn't hear the conversation outside, didn't know what his father told them or what spells he'd cast on them but when he returned inside the ambulance was driving away.

"What do we do about them?" James asked nodding at the pastor and his sister.

"I'll modify their memories. Not too much, just so they don't get suspicious if he's up and about sooner than he should be. Likely just make the injuries seem less extensive. Should probably clean up the place for them too."

James looked and realized for the first time the mess his brother had made. He'd knocked over a table at some point, and of course the blood. Fleamont set to work on that while James felt useless beside his best friend.

"Can I help?"

"Don't distract me, Love."

"He'll be fine, Son."

James wished he'd brought his wand. He could at least heal all the minor injuries while his mum focused on the bigger ones.

Every time. Every time Sirius needed him he was useless. He was useless when months of stress and worry had caused Sirius to snap and nearly kill Snape, he was useless when there was a murderer in Sirius' sitting room, even now when Sirius was right there, there was nothing he could do.

Was that all he was good for? Picking up the pieces after his brother fell apart again, like some kind of morbid jigsaw puzzle?

James grit his teeth, searching for something he could do. His eyes caught the muggle's first aid kit. There was a small bottle of medicinal alcohol in it. He grabbed it and dumped a bit on one of the sanitary cloths. His mother had already healed the cut on his face. James figured he could at least try to clean up some of the blood. His dad could do it faster, but he was busy.

He did the side wound next, Euphemia having finished with that one as well. It was when he lifted Sirius a bit to get what was left that he saw his mother had been wrong. It wasn't just surface wounds and broken bones.

"Mum, his back."

"What is it, what's wrong?" she asked rushing over from her position at Sirius' leg to help James lift him to a seated position.

Poking out of the collar of his robe and up the back of Sirius' neck were a thousand tiny black lines looking almost like veins just under his skin and when Euphemia vanished the robe, as well as the ruined shirt underneath it, looked worse. A raised black circle marked the point of impact and the little lines radiating out, like some sort of morbid depiction of the sun.

"This wasn't an accident." Euphemia breathed. "That's dark magic."

James felt an unseasonable chill in the air.

"Do we need to take him to St. Mungos?" Fleamont asked, he'd finished cleaning up the foyer and had gotten to work modifying the muggles' memories.

"I think I can manage. I'm worried about who St. Mungos will try to contact if we take him there. It doesn't seem to be immediately life-threatening since he made it all the way here."

"You think his family did this?"

"I'm not willing to take the chance either way." She shook her head before turning back to James. "Love, go back home and get Sirius' room ready for him will you?"

"You just don't want me to see." James accused with half a mind to refuse. But then again, he wasn't going to be much help.

"It won't be pleasant. Dark magic never is. Perhaps send a message to Peter and Remus as well? They should be aware."

James looked at Sirius and then at his mother and resigned.

He hated being useless.

—

He didn't write to Moony and Wormtail. Not yet, not until he knew for sure Sirius was okay, or he knew what happened, or… or he knew anything really. The last thing Moony needed was a vague letter of his best friend's wellbeing.

Oh by the way Sirius showed up tonight. He could have died and there was some weird dark magic scar on his back but mum said he'd be fine… probably.

Yeah, that would go over well.

It was twenty minutes before his parents managed to make it home. Sirius hanging limply over Fleamont's back. James' dad was too old to be giving teenagers piggyback rides. He'd be incredibly sore tomorrow, between that and the running, but he wouldn't complain. Fleamont loved Sirius just as much as his wife, maybe as much as James even.

James' parents were the best.

"Did it come off?" James followed them up the stairs, though he'd just run down the moment he heard them come home.

"It'll take a while to disappear completely," Euphemia said also following her husband up the stairs. "But thankfully whoever attacked him wasn't a particularly good witch."

James noticed she'd said witch, rather than wizard, but said nothing. Knowing better than to hope she was wrong.

"He'll be okay then?"

"Of course, Love." She ran a hand through his hair and kissed him on the temple. "He'll be just fine."

For the first time since they'd stepped off the Hogwarts express, James breathed easily. Relief flooding over his senses like a gentle breeze.

Finally, his brother was safe. Finally, Sirius was away from that good-for-nothing family. Finally, Padfoot could stop worrying constantly and just be Padfoot. Everything would be better now, once Sirius healed completely.

Sirius was home for good, Remus wasn't tearing himself to pieces once a month. And Peter was fine too.

War raged somewhere else, obituaries were on the front page, and things were finally, finally, looking up.

Sure, Sirius would be upset when he woke. Even James wasn't naive enough to think he'd just bounce back, he'd be more worried if Sirius tried to. But they'd work through it. James was good at picking up the pieces by now since it was the only thing he's apparently good for.

Sirius was safe though. That was the most important thing.

Fleamont and Euphemia went back to bed after trying to talk James into doing the same and failing. His mother requested that he at least wake her if there was any change, that he was willing to agree to.

Once they had gone, James sat down at the desk of Sirius' room and wrote to Remus and Peter. Remus always complained that he didn't write enough details in his letters, so he tried to be specific. Sirius was hurt, they didn't know who did it but suspected his mum. He was okay but unconscious with what's left of his concussion.

He left out the bit of dark magic. It was better to tell them that when they arrived.

James' owl was fast.

Remus was faster.

He arrived before dawn. James saw them apparate from Sirius' window. The anti-apparition spells left them walking from about half a block away. Well, not walking so much. Sometimes James forgot how fast Moony could be when he had a reason. The full moon had only been three nights ago. Sure Moony was feeling a lot better since they'd started joining him, but it still left him sore.

James opened the door before they could wake his parents again.

"He's upstairs," James told him, though Remus knew where Sirius' room was. He nodded and ran up the stairs.

"Your letter said his mother attacked him?" Lyall asked following up the stairs more slowly. James kept pace. He had that same look on his face that Remus got when he was up to something. The one no one but James and Sirius could recognize as anything but innocent.

"We think, but he was unconscious when we found him. So we can't know for sure. Sirius told me they'd had company over, but not the kind of company that would have left him alive."

"What do you mean?"

"Voldemort."

Lyall flinched.

"I wasn't aware the Blacks were keeping such… interesting company."

"We were worried he was trying to talk Regulus into becoming a death eater."

"Is that likely to succeed?"

"Sirius thought he'd feel like he had to if he ran away." They reached the top of the stairs, Remus was already in the room.

"Remus was afraid that was the reason he was staying." Lyall mused. "Perhaps there's still something we can do to prevent it."

They stopped just outside the door. Remus could probably hear them with his superhuman werewolf ears.

"What?"

"This may be just what we need to finally put that shrew in Azkaban. The Aurors may be in Orion's pocket, but the department of magical law enforcement is a lot bigger. Surely there are a few of them that aren't cowards."

"Dad's one of them."

"Right. Where are they?"

"Sleeping, they're too old to be running around town like this."

"Do you mind if I wait for them?"

James smiled. "Of course not."

Lyall nodded and followed James into Sirius' room.

"He looks better than I expected," Remus said letting his head fall back onto the armchair he'd curled up in.

"That's because my mum's brilliant." James sat on the arm of the same chair. "He looked awful when we found him."

"Found?"

"He'd collapsed at the church down the road. Not sure why he went there, but thankfully the pastor and his sister were there. He came and got us."

"Lucky."

James shook his head. "There's nothing about this that's lucky."

"He could be dead, Prongs. I'll take my blessings where I can."

"I don't settle for good enough."

Remus laughed and shook his head.

"No, I suppose you don't."