Written for the SiriusXJames Fest

this is number 77 of the challenges created by Lily

Premises: James and Sirius are resurrected... but as teenagers! This is a complication no one expected. How will relationships change, and is this a second chance at life and love for James and Sirius?

Title: Wheels

Rated: R for swearing

Author: Azure K Mello

Warning: Does contain some Draco/Harry. Post OotP; contains spoilers.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Led Zeppelin. Please don't sue me, I'm not making any money.

Residual magic was one of the most dangerous and volatile forms of energy. And more hazardous than the magic itself was when the magic resides in a room that was more than willing to put it to use. The headmaster's office of Hogwarts was possible the most unsafe place on earth if Dumbledore was not there to keep an eye on things. Not only was it the place where a powerful Wizard spent great lumps of time, it was the place where the powerful wizards of the past hung their portraits. Moreover, magical instruments aren't exactly inanimate. The objects had so much power thrumming through them that it was unavoidable for them to become conscious. They gained memories and personalities. The instruments that resided in the office had been there for hundreds of years, waiting. Waiting for something worth while to do. And today they had found it.

They had watched as the boy shouted at the headmaster. As he raged about his loss. The anger, hurt, and confusion pouring off the boy had been palpable. And the devices weren't without feeling. And when the lights were out and the castle asleep they began to discuss, in hushed tones, what could be done to help the boy. After a while they decided that they could bring the man back, the boy's dead godfather. They could bring him back and the boy could be happy. They reflected that the boy had never been truly happy. Every time he had entered the office the instruments got the distinct impression that the boy was deeply troubled. They searched through old year books and Dumbledore's personal accounts. Everything they read about Sirius Black mentioned his friend, James Potter, the boy's dead father. They had been saving up excess magic for years. Collectively they could resurrect both men. Give the boy some form of a family. They found a picture of the pair and started their work.
James woke up with a hideous hangover. He swore he would never drink again, but they had won the Quidditch match the night before. The light playing on his eyelids was painful and he wasn't brave enough to open his eyes. He reached for his lover but all he could feel was a thick carpet. Apparently Sirius and he hadn't made it to bed, he was certain he was on the floor. Though, of course, he had no idea what particular floor it was. He swore off drink again before rolling over into a warm body. "Sear?"

"Um?" replied a tired voice.

"You in as bad a shape as me?"

"I think something's died in my mouth. And I kind of wish I was dead."

"You are," said a soft voice that caused both boys to gingerly open their eyes.

"Morning, Headmaster." They spoke in unison.

Upon closer inspection James realized that the headmaster looked older. Perhaps the man had been out partying the night before too? And what was he doing in their dorm for? Looking around he had a sickening realization that he was sprawled in the middle of the man's study. "How'd we get here?"

"I don't know," said Dumbledore but then he saw one of the objects on the shelf twitch and he just knew. "I have some hard news though. And I don't exactly know how to soften it for you."

"Don't bother," said Sirius with a smirk, "we're big boys."

"The years 2003, you're both dead and you've been resurrected as teenagers."

After a second James said, "Yes, that might have benefited from some softening."

"Did I die in a car accident?" asked Sirius distractedly. "I mean I shouldn't be anywhere near death yet. But everyone really cool dies in a motor vehicle accident, it's a right of passage."

"Is this a trick? Are the Slytherins paying you to do this? I mean I know they're pissed they lost but this is a bit much," said James with a slightly forced laugh.

Dumbledore just shook his head at James. "You died protecting Harry," said the man slightly stunned at how the two boys were taking it with a mix of interest and amusement.

"Who's Harry?" asked Sirius.

But before the headmaster could answer James was posing his own question, "How'd I die?"

"You died protecting Harry," Dumbledore smiled slightly at the absurd situation.

"Ok, so, again," said Sirius sounding put out that he wasn't in the spotlight, "who is this Harry?"

Dumbledore paused, unsure of how to answer, "He's. . . he's James' son, your godson."

The room went deadly silent for a moment and then Sirius turned to his lover and screamed, "Who the fuck did you marry?"

"Like I know!" replied James equally upset.

"Lily Evans," said Dumbledore quietly trying to not invade their conversation.

"You married that skinny know it all?!?!"

"Well I don't know do I?"

"I can't believe you. Why?"

Thinking James shrugged, "Maybe we had a falling out and I wanted to get my own back. Who would you hate for me to marry more than anyone in the world?"

"No," said Sirius, "we never fight that badly. Maybe," he said angrily, "we had a fight and you were stupid enough to screw about with her, knock her up, and do the noble fucking thing and marry the cow."

"I'm stupid now?" asked James getting equally as upset as his lover.

"I'd rather you were stupid than spiteful!" spat Sirius.

James shook his head slowly and leaned over to wrap his arms around the taller boy, "I'm so sorry."

"How could you?"

"I don't know," James rested his forehead against Padfoot's.

Looking down Sirius asked softly, "do you want your ring back?"

"Don't be silly, I don't want her. I want you." James kissed Sirius softly and, upon remembering their audience, blushed deeply. "So," he asked turning to the "grown up" in the room, "what happened to my wife?"

"She died."

"How?" asked Sirius feeling a small happy swell that he tried to ignore.

"Protecting Harry."

"My son seems to require a lot of protecting."

"He is a special boy, the only person on earth who can defeat a very powerful dark wizard who has attacked him on numerous occasions. He's lost a lot of people over the years."

James nodded slowly, trying not to question as he didn't think that any answer the man could give him would make things clearer, "How old was he when I died?"

"A year old, you and Lily died the same night."

"And me?" asked Sirius, "Tell me it was something heroic."

"A few nights ago you tried to protect Harry."

"A few nights ago? The fates couldn't have let me die young and beautiful? So was I a rock star in the in between time?" He thought of something and added quickly, "Did I ever get to meet Jimmy Page?!?!"

"You were framed for James and Lily's death and spent 12 years in Azkaban."

"Has anyone told you that you have an amazing talent for making bad things worse?" asked Sirius. "Couldn't you lie?"

"No."

"Oh."

"Can I meet Harry?" asked James suddenly.

"I'll need to prepare him a bit. In the meantime I'll have you two sent up some robes." Dumbledore smirked as he took in their attire of pajamas.
Harry was having a nice dream. Sirius wasn't dead and they were painting a room in his new house. His name had been cleared, Harry was moving in with him, this was his bedroom. The paint was green. He laughed when he thought of what Ron's reaction would be when he saw the shade which was so close to Slytherin's house colour. Harry didn't care though, he liked the colour and he'd never had a bedroom to paint before.

"Wake up!" said a disembodied voice brightly.

Grumpily Harry muttered, "And I was having such a nice dream."

"I have something better than a dream for you!" said Dumbledore a notch too happily for Harry's taste. "Do you know about residual magic?" Harry shook his head, "Oh well, you must have slept through that bit of you History of Magic lesson." He explained the phenomenon briefly.

"So you think that Voldemort might use my own excess magic against me?" asked Harry trying to understand why he was being told about this.

"Heavens no!" laughed Dumbledore. "My office apparently thought you were down in the mouth."

"Gee, I wonder why," interrupted Harry darkly.

The older man continued as though his ward hadn't spoken, "And it decided, without talking it over with me, to bring Sirius and your father back from the dead to cheer you up."

Harry bolted upright in bed, "What?"

"Yes," Dumbledore sighed, "it's rather odd. Anyway, their 17 year old selves are in my office. Once you feel up to it do come up to see them."

It was wise of Dumbledore leave then. Harry needed some time to think about things, throw up, and get dressed.
"What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't like him? What if I'm not what he wanted?" asked James as he paced.

Sirius watched him from where he was lounged on the couch. "No teenage boy likes their father. You don't like yours."

"But this is different!"

"Jimmy! Calm. Down."

"I want him to like me," he sounded slightly defeated and Sirius sighed as he wrapped his arms around James' waist.

"It'll all be fine."

"That's easy for you to say, he's not your son. Plus you know that you and he were friends. Who knows what he'll think of me?"

"You really need to calm down," said Sirius with a little laugh. Since when was James the excitable one?

"Hi," said a young voice. A boy who looked exactly like James was standing in the door, "So is this as weird for you as it is for me?" he asked after a moment.

"Weirder," replied Sirius brightly, "I just found out that I'm not a rock star."

Laughing Harry said, "No but you did get famous for being a murderer. It wasn't true though."

"That's ok, lots of people don't deserve their fame. At least I got some renown."

"Ignore him, he's hung over and he's always like this after a night of drinking," James smiled at his son. "I'm glad to see that you've grown up so nicely. It's nice to know I didn't die for a loser."

Harry studied the man for a long time and then said softly, "I get that." He tried to not be obvious as he drank in his father. The man looked exactly like him. It was odd and he didn't feel comforted. There was a long uncomfortable pause and then Harry said, "You guys should really explore the grounds, see what's changed." He thought of something else, "I have your map! Of course you don't need that as you aren't students here but I do have it."

"Did I give it to you?" asked Sirius.

"No Filch confiscated it and my friends stole it and gave it to me as a gift."

"He's defiantly your son!" Sirius said nudging James with his elbow.

"I should go to class," said Harry as his father gave him an odd look. He fled the room before the two boys could reply.

Turning to his boyfriend Sirius said, "Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned how glad you were that he wasn't a loser."

"That was a compliment."

"Jesus you're thick sometimes. . . I still can't believe you did it with Lily Evans. That's gross, man."

"Since when are there classes on Sunday?" asked James suddenly.
Harry fled to the dungeons. There was only one person he wanted to see right now. As he got to the hidden entrance to the Slytherin common room he muttered, "Gryffindorks." He was granted admittance. It was early on a Sunday and he was glad that there was no chance that he would be caught as he snuck up to the boy's dorm. He kicked his shoes under the bed closest to the wall and slid behind the curtains. Knowing that there was a silence charm cast on the curtains he didn't worry about making noise as he shook his lover awake.

"It's too early," said the blond pushing him away.

"Need you, Co," whispered Harry urgently.

Draco opened his eyes slowly and asked, "You ok?"

"He's not dead."

Sitting up with a sigh Draco pulled his boyfriend to him, "We've been over this. He's dead, and he wouldn't want you to be so stuck here. You have to move on." Harry liked when they were alone, Draco would hold him and promise that things would be ok. He didn't have his father's beliefs, he just feared and obeyed the man. But now his father was in jail he could breath easier when cuddling the boy who lived. "For his sake and yours let go."

"No, Co, I mean he's somehow been resurrected as a teenage boy and was fucking nuzzling with my teenage father when I found them."

"You ok?"

"My father said that he was glad to see I'm not a loser because he wouldn't have liked to die for someone who wasn't worth it."

"I'm sorry. . . I always said your dad was probably a total dick."

"Not helping, Co."

"Sorry, do you want me to beat him up?"

"Still not helping."

"Would you like me to hold you for a little bit longer and then we'll get up and get some breakfast and then hide out for the rest of the day?"

"You're the best." With a sigh Harry snuggled into Draco's side.

"I know," Draco kissed the top of Harry's head and smirked into his hair.
They spilt up. Draco remembered he had to go to Quidditch practice and Harry had promised to help Ron study for some make up test. As he walked quickly down the hall Harry was surprised when his father fell into step with him. "Where did you run off to this morning?" James asked softly. Sirius had yelled at him earlier for not acting like a dad. So now James was trying, he really was.

"Class."

"It's Sunday." James smirked, Harry was his son.

"Oh. . . I went to see a friend."

"Girlfriend?"

"No."

"Boyfriend?" hazarded James.

". . . Yeah."

"What's he like?" asked James trying to take some fatherly interest in the boy's life.

Harry looked down at his feet as he blushed slightly. Was he having a father son conversation with his 17 year old dad? "I like him and he takes good care of me. He loves me. And it's amazing. Is that enough for you to go by?" he laughed.

"I always think the best way to judge a man is by what his lover's friends think of him."

"Oh. . . they hate him."

"Oh, so how did they react when you told them that you were with him?"

"I've never told them. They would have me institutionalized. They would say I was crazy and claim that he was using me."

"Using you for what?"

"I don't know. There's this dark wizard called Voldemort. I've beaten him a few times, never actually won though. My friends would say that he was in league with Voldemort and was going to hurt me but their wrong."

"You're sure?"

"I trust him."

"Can I meet him?" asked James softly. He felt like Peter Pan pretending to be Father. He wanted to see if the boy met his approval as someone who was dating his son.

"Sure, um, right now the Slytherin team is in Quidditch practice but after that he should be free."

"Why is he at their practice?" asked James slowly fearing the answer he might get.

"He's their seeker, I'm actually the seeker for Gryffindor, youngest one in history, it's always fun when we face each other." He saw his father's horrified look and realized something a few seconds too late. His dad was a teenage Gryffindor with all of the prejudices the house embodied.

"And you honestly think he's not using you?" James laughed bitterly, "Are you a fucking moron? Every dark wizard in history came out of there! I never met a good one."

Harry swallowed. He had just told his dad he was the youngest seeker ever and his dad was focusing on his bedmate's house. He knew that James was only seventeen, not in a paternal state of mind but it still hurt. Just once he had wanted someone he was related to to be proud of him. "Yeah," he said dryly, "well, I've met a lot of people I haven't liked and not all of them were Slytherins. Besides, the sorting hat wanted to put me in there." His father was stunned, gapping like a fish. Shaking his head Harry turned and walked away.
"You said what?" asked Sirius slowly. He was sitting on a desk in the old alchemy classroom. Apparently the course hadn't been taught for years. It had been his favorite. He flicked his cigarette ash to the floor as he glared at his lover. "So, let me get this straight, your son came out to you, told you his big secret, and told you that he followed in your footsteps in becoming seeker and you told him that he was a "fucking moron"? Give yourself a gold star for the day, James." James had the good grace to look ashamed, "I know that you aren't really his dad yet. But guess what? At some point in time you have to take responsibility for your mistakes, whether or not you've made it yet." Looking up James realized that Sirius was dead serious. His funny, silly lover was pissed. Sirius' own father had been a disappointment and now James was shaping up to be a pretty bad one himself. He saw anger in his lover's eyes and thought that maybe he saw a glimpse of what Sirius would look like after 12 years in prison.

Sirius jumped off the desk and started walking to the door without James following him, "Where are you going?" James asked the taller boy.

"To fix your mistake." Sirius shut the door after himself. As he walked down the hall he tried to make a list of positive things. It had always worked when he was at home during the summer. He could make a list of good things to think about when his parent's were kicking the shite out of him. James and he were physically fine. He had been so drunk last night that he had worn his boots under his pj's because he thought it was a good fashion move. He had tucked his eyeliner into his boot so that he didn't have to put it down. He had kept his fags in his pocket when he went to sleep. James wasn't presently married to some idiot girl. Said girl was dead in this present time. The last thing was a bit too bitter to look at head on so Sirius shunted it to one side of his mind. Harry had treated him like a friend that morning. Things weren't completely bad.

He tapped into Padfoot and sniffed the air for the boy's scent. Harry was in the library. So he started off towards the place while trying to think of something to say. Thank god for nicotine, he'd been smoking ever since he woke up. And as he hummed "Black Dog" he felt a little calmer. Things could be worse, he could have no legs. . . he'd rather have James than legs. But apparently he was doomed to keep his limbs and lose his lover.

"You can't smoke in here," said a cold voice.

Looking up Sirius saw a tall, slightly greasy man glowering at him. "Mr. Black, what a surprise. Put this cigarette out this instant."

"Do I know you?" asked Sirius confusedly.

"I'm Professor Severus Snape."

Hysterical laughter bubbled out of Sirius' chest. "I end up in prison for killing James and you end up a teacher? How is that fair."

"Put out that-"

"Fuck off, Professor." Snape looked gob smacked and Sirius laughed, feeling better than he had all day. Walking on, ignoring the man's outrage, he came upon the library. He stubbed his fag out under his boot before walking into the room. The place was pretty much empty, there were only a few days left until the end of the term. Harry, a redhead, and a girl were sitting at the back table. The pair kept throwing looks at Harry's silent form. He evidently told them what was going on and now they expected him to blow up, how like his father he was. Stopping in front of them he asked, "Can we talk?"

"I'm guessing he told you? I don't need two lectures in a day."

The pair looked at him, deeply confused but Sirius just laughed and talked quickly. He knew he could charm the pants of anyone, even James' son -especially- James' son. "Nah, I'm not much good at lectures. I swear on my mother's grave (should something happen to her) that there will be no sermon."

"She's dead," said Harry softly.

"Oh, so some good news has made it through today! Tell me it was painful?! No, don't I think anything I imagine will be better than the truth. And hey. Guess what? Severus Snape is a teacher, how fucked up is that? Come for a walk," he said brightly.

He looked to his friends for permission. They nodded and gave him small signals of support. With a sigh Harry stood and followed his godfather out. They walked down to the womping willow and within minutes were under the tree. "This was planted for-"

"Remus," said Harry, "I know."

"You know him?"

"Very well."

"He's alive?" asked Sirius smiling.

"I can get him to come up and see you," offered Harry.

"No, I. . . I don't know if that's wise. But thank you." Sirius couldn't believe he was being so cowardly but he was scared to see Moony all grown up.

"Where are we going?"

"To get a drink and toast your man. You have to understand something, your da is full of himself. And he really doesn't think before he speaks because most people are so impressed with talking to the coolest boy in school that they don't listen to him. He's a good man, good mate, but he's a kid. We both are. You're gonna have to bear with us 'til we find our feet."

"Some things didn't change as you grew up," Harry smiled, "You're still the one I can talk to." Harry thought and then said, "Oh, I'm too young to drink."

Sirius smirked, "Lesson the first, my friend, you are never too young to drink. Lesson the second, you aren't my godson yet. You don't need to play the good son." He thought about the day and the look on Harry's face when he had seen them that morning. There had been a tone to the boy's expression that Sirius hadn't understood at the time. But as he thought about it the situation became obvious to the taller boy. Harry's easy intimacy with him, his trust. And, throwing caution to the wind, he asked the question that could get him punched if he was wrong. "What was it like this morning when you walked into Dumbledore's office and found your dad cuddling a teenage version of the first man you ever kissed?"

Thinking for a moment Harry said, "Odd but strangely not surprising. It kind of explained why it happened, I guess. We were all staying together over the summer at your mum's house. And you hated it because you felt you were stuck in the same place as when you were a kid. So you stayed in your room. I would come and talk to you for hours after everyone was asleep. And one night you kissed me." Harry laughed, remembering the night, "And then you apologized like mad and said you felt like a pedo."

Sirius smiled, "It had nothing to do with your dad. You're aren't much like him, other than to look at." When he had opened his mouth he had expected to be lying, protecting the boy from the truth that he had in fact been kissing Harry for James. But as he spoke he realized his words were true. Other then in looks Harry wasn't his dad. He was emotionally in tune, confused, shy, sad. James was oblivious, so sure of himself, attention seeking, and happy. They were practically polar opposites. And Sirius thought they were both beautiful, Harry for his innocence and James for his jadedness. It was amazing that Harry was the naive one, Dumbledore had told him about the boy's life and after he had been hurt so many times he was still able to trust and love: it was incredible. He leaned in slightly and Harry put a stopping hand on his chest.

"Don't," said the younger boy, "you're with my dad, I have a boyfriend. Just don't."

Nodding Sirius just laughed, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Harry gave him an odd hug. "I got you killed," he laughed bitterly, "Let's call it even."

Dumbledore had told him about how he died in detail and Sirius just stared horrified at Harry, "It wasn't your fault. You were trying to protect me."

"My stupidity killed you." Sirius shook his head and pulled Harry in tightly for a hug that nearly crushed the boy.

"As far as I can see, you're why I stayed sane when I was in jail. You were my reason after Jimmy died. No more apologizes." He ran his fingers over Harry's back and felt really odd raised marks. "What is that?" he asked curiously.

Harry blushed deeply, "When I was six I ate too much at the cinema and I puked on my uncle's shoes. He wasn't a amused. I've never been to the movies since." Sirius looked horrified, "It was a long time ago." He sighed not sure how to explain that things were going to be ok because someday they would live together. His Sirius was dead and this one was just a kid. Sirius was playing with his ring and Harry laughed, "It's nice to see that your nervous habits didn't change."

Stunned Sirius asked, "I was still wearing this ring?"

"And you would never explain why."

"Your dad gave it to me, he asked me to marry him when we were 16."

"Wow, that's nice." Harry was slightly thrown hearing about this part of his father's life that he had never known.

"Yeah, of course he marries your mum instead."

"If it's any consolation, he didn't love her." Sirius looked confused, "I have this photo album of their wedding day. When I was little I thought he looked so happy with her. But now I'm a little better at reading subplots. . . he barely looks at her. You and he are smiling and pulling pranks and practically beaming at each other. And she seems slightly put out but not surprised or angry. . . There was a prophecy about my birth. I think maybe they married to fulfill the prophecy. But I don't think you and he ever stopped being together. And I don't think Mum and Remus ever broke up either."

"They were together?"

"Yeah," Harry laughed at his oblivious godfather. "They were together since their 4th year."

"Wait, that means that I've been with them since they got together. That can't be right."

Still laughing Harry was slightly out of breath as he said, "I'm sure you were too focused on your hair and music to notice."

Sirius shrugged, it was true. "So on a scale of one to ten how odd is this to you?"

"I don't know. It's odd. I'm sorry, I just can't get drunk right now, it's all too fucking weird."

"Valid point. Maybe we should turn around," said Sirius looking back down the passage. "I was kind of harsh with yer da."

"I'm kind of glad you two are together. It's nice to know you were both happy. And loved. The idea of a loving mum and dad is nice and everything. But at some point you have to face the truth and it's nice to know that you two were taking care of each other."

Sirius smiled, "I hate to say it, but I'm really pleased he didn't love your mum. . ." he thought about Harry's situation and asked softly, "Is this boy on the up and up?"

Harry sighed. He couldn't even explain to himself why he trusted Draco, he just. . . did. It wasn't logical or proof driven. He knew that Draco loved him, that he loved Draco, that they were good for each other. "His dad is one of Voldemort's biggest supporters. And he could so easily hand me over to the man while I sleep, but he doesn't. He loves me; he's risking everything to be with me. It's not a game; I've known him for too long for him to fool me. He's the first person I've ever met in this world who saw me as me and not the boy who lived." He saw Sirius' face and said, "I didn't die when Voldemort attacked me, I'm the only one who ever survived. Hence people think I'm some kind of hero. And my family thinks I'm a leper that they shouldn't touch. But he. . . he just generally thinks I'm a stupid little kid: which is what I am. And it's nice to not be treated like Jesus Christ and be teased and tickled as opposed to having people walking on egg shells trying not to upset me."

Sirius just nodded. He understood too well. But for him he had met the first boy who didn't treat him as a) the black sheep of the family or b) some sort of rebel who lacked a cause. James just saw. . . him with no label.
Dumbledore had an extra bed move into the dormitory. There wasn't enough room for two and that suited James and Sirius just fine. After their walk Sirius had filled James in on his chat with Harry telling his lover about the prophecy and that they had never broken up. Upset, he had nearly broken down when he told James that he wore his ring 'til the day he died. The thought that his lover died and left him alone frightened him. He apologized for being so angry about the "Lily thing" earlier in the day.

They were cuddled up together when they heard the slight creak. James couldn't resist it, he had to see what his son was doing. It was in his nature. Silently he followed his son after swearing to Sirius that he wouldn't do anything stupid. Though Harry was wearing an invisibility cloak, that James recognized to be his own, the older boy could still track him easily. He had spent years in the cloak; he knew how to tail someone hiding beneath it.

A long path took them down to the dungeons. He heard the muttered password and his skin prickled. How could any son of his date one of these arses? Begrudgingly he gave the password. He shadowed his son to the dorm room and watched from the darkness as Harry climbed into bed with a blond boy who looked disturbingly like that slimy git Lucius Malfoy who hung out with Snape. He saw their mouths moving but heard no noise. Realizing that they were using a silence charm he cast him own to eavesdrop.

"I don't know what to do," said Harry somewhat hysterically. "I wanted to see him so badly but. . . He's not my Sirius, he's a kid who didn't like me apologizing for his death. I couldn't get drunk with him 'cause he's Sirius. But he's not. It's so fucked up. And my dad's angry at me because of this," he motioned between Draco and himself, "but he doesn't even know me. And he couldn't even be bother to be excited when I told him I was seeker. I know he's a kid but is it too fucking much to ask for him to fake some fatherly pride? I just. . . I'm really fucking tired and I want to flaunt you. I want to show you off and say, "This is my lover, Draco Malfoy, and if you don't like it you can go fuck yourself," but I'm actually scared of what he might say."

Draco calmly twined his fingers into Harry's hair, "You might want to leave off my last name, he knows my cunt of a father." Harry just laughed bitterly, "I think it's time," said Draco as he pushed Harry's dressing gown off of his shoulders, "for you to get some sleep. This can all be dealt with in the morning." James saw raised white scars all over his son's back. And as Draco turned them over and switched positions he saw similar ones marring Draco's back. Draco twitched the bed curtains and James heard his disembodied voice, "Remember, it's you and me 'til the wheels fall off."

James climbed into bed five minutes later, stills stunned by all he had heard and seen. Sirius was sitting up: waiting for him. "And?" asked the taller boy softly.

"He's in love with Lucius Malfoy's son." Said James stunned. Sirius wasn't too surprised. In his head he had made a list of people who could possibly be the father of Harry's boyfriend. Harry had told him that his lover's dad was a big supporter of a dark wizard and Lucius had been in the top five suspect of who the man could be. "And he has all these weird scars on his back." In hushed tones Sirius told his lover what Harry had told him that afternoon. He had been planning on omitting that portion of the conversation. He knew that James wouldn't react well to the news that his own son had been badly abused, "Why would his uncle do that? What could Harry possibly do to deserve that? Vomit on his shoes?"

"There doesn't need to be a reason with people like that. Harry didn't do anything. The man just needed an excuse to justify doing what he wanted." Sirius rubbed small circle into James' flesh. If he focused on James' horror he didn't have to cope with his own or acknowledge his memories. "Tomorrow you can talk to him. Talk about Quidditch, and flying, and tell him how proud you are, and tell him that you really want to meet his boyfriend. Maybe you should apologize too, I know you hate it but. . ." James nodded. "You'll fix this. I know you will. I'm far more worried about finding some good music to listen to. Tomorrow will be a new day. And you know what I always say don't you?" Sirius smiled.

James smiled too, finally feeling slightly better about his son's choice of lover. "It's you and me 'til the wheels fall off." Sirius kissed his nose and they both fell into sleep. Safe in the knowledge that things could be easily fixed.