Title: The Last Stand

Author: Seadragon

Genre: Action/Adventure/Drama

Rating: PG-13

Summary: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and Lily Potter had a plan. A very critical plan. A plan that took three years of planning to perfect. A plan involving extreme sacrifice. A plan full of dangers. A plan that would change the way the war was fought. Forever…

Author's Note: I just had a thought that terrified me. And that is saying something. I can't tell you what it was yet, but you will find out soon enough. Also, I'm sorry this chapter is so short, but I felt bad about not updating in forever, so I tried to get it out as soon as possible with out completely screwing it up! Oh, and I've been toying with the idea of having an H/D relationship in the background. It would be very off-to-the-side-ish, just a thing to show how betrayed Harry feels about this. Let me know if you:

a) Love it.

b) Hate it.

c) Would tolerate it.

d) Would just plain want-to-stamp-it-into-the-ground-then-burn-it-so-that-all-that-is-left-of-the-thought-is-a-pile-of-ashes-buried-far-far-far-underground-and-then-you-would-really-go-to-work-on-it.

That shall be all,

Seadragon.

~

Four there once were

One by one they fell

And now,

Four there are once again

The last chance for salvation

If they fall, so shall we all.

Moony. Wormtail. Padfoot. Prongs.

The last line of defense

"It is the choices we make who shape us for who we really are."

~

The Last Stand

Seadragon

Chapter Three: Return of the Lost

~

James Potter. All-powerful, or so they had thought. Dead, murdered by Lord Voldemort himself. Killed fifteen years ago. Body recovered.

Sirius Black. Accused of betraying his best friends. Locked in Azkaban for thirteen years, the only one to ever escape. Killed by his cousin. Fell through the veil.

Remus Lupin. The quiet one, he only one left. Dying of his lycanthropy.

Peter Pettigrew. Believed to be killed by Sirius Black. The real traitor. Sold his friends out to Voldemort. Lived as a rat for thirteen years.

Lily Potter. Killed just after her husband. Body found in her son's bedroom, with her wand.

Yet here they were.

Standing in front of him.

Alive, healthy, and looking very immortal.

At their head was James Potter, dark eyes glinting in the strong candle light he depended on to light his office. His chin was raised in the stubborn gesture. On his face was a defiant look. Albus expected no less from him.

Directly behind him were Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, wearing mirror expressions of James's. The look in Sirius's eyes though was identical to that on his face. It said, go on, ask us how. And he was going to take him up on that dare, though not quite yet. He was still trying to believe his eyes. Behind them, Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew. As he saw each of them he believed it less and less.

They all were healthy and very much alive. Even Remus was standing up straighter than usual.

This meant everything had been a lie. Everything that had happened in the past fifteen years was a complete and utter lie, without a shred of truth behind it. This changed everything.

He sat back heavily. He was dimly aware of the teacup he held in his hand crashing to the ground and shattering into thousands of pieces.

For the rest of his life, he would play this moment over and over in his head.

Three of these people were supposed to be dead. One was a traitor, another was dying. Things like this weren't supposed to happen.

But, then again, James Potter wasn't supposed to have died either.

Lily Potter

Albus looked terrified at first. Then shocked. She watched the precious china slip from his hand and crash to the floor, gravity once again the enemy. Tea slowly spread around the pieces of china, sinking into the floorboards. She could see him trying to figure out what was happening, how it was happening, why it was happening.

They hadn't meant to give him a heart attack. Oh no, completely the opposite. They were here to restore hope. They were here to give everyone the second chance they wouldn't have otherwise. They were here to give back the life people had once had.

He was staring at them as though they weren't human. And, she supposed, in the eyes of the people, they weren't. At least James wasn't. And she couldn't blame anyone for thinking that, it was what she had thought at first. It wasn't hard, such power just there, waiting to be used.

The silence spread, even Fawkes was silent, watching James with a curious look in his eye. Again, Lily wondered exactly how aware the phoenix was of the world around him, how much it had changed in the past years. As the bird shook his magnificent red and gold plumage, she was reminded distinctly of Gryffindor, her house and home for so many years. She harbored many fond feelings for the house and its people.

She didn't know what house her son was in. She just prayed to god it wasn't Slytherin. While she was much more tolerant of the Slytherins than the ever-elusive Marauders, she wasn't exactly fond of them, and never would be, to say otherwise would be an outright lie.

But they were going to be ripping the foundation of his life away, very, very soon. He wouldn't have his wand, he would have considerably less power. He would have parents, and three godfathers.  They were going to change everything, turn everything into a lie. Everything the boy had heard, or had been told, in the past fifteen years, was going to be a complete and total lie.

And now that it came down to it, she didn't know if she could do that to her son.

On the flipside, she didn't know if she could do that to James, without his power, and his wand, he would be ripped to pieces from the inside.

Sirius Black

Sirius looked slightly to the side at Remus, who smiled faintly before his face returned to stone. Sirius smiled back and lifted his head once again, staring at Albus, much the same as James.

They had always been extremely similar, but they could never be mistaken for the other. James had a powerful aura about him, it eclipsed everything around him. Sirius was content to sink into the background. In a way, he thought, he was a lot like Harry's friend Ron when it came to that. His best friend was famous, he himself was nothing special. He was perfectly happy to be just out of the spotlight, contrary to popular belief.

But he didn't have that choice now. Doubtless, their story would be all over the world as soon as one outside person found out. There would be no shadows for him to hide in then, except for the one Voldemort had cast over the wizarding world. It was a shadow, but not one he would ever dream of joining.

He had been associated with him for fifteen years now, and that was fifteen years too many. He knew it had been his choice to take that part, but there was no one else who could play it. He knew he could have opted out of the plan, but he couldn't have done that to his friends. He just couldn't.

They had crafted this plan so lovingly, with such pain-staking care. It had taken them years to work it all out, and when they had, there hadn't been celebrations, but a stunning finality. Now they could embrace the feeling that it really was going to happen, before it had been just a distant dream. To complete it they had poured time, money, power, blood, and love into the final workings.

It had been created with one purpose. To rid them of Voldemort. Much more would be accomplished along the way, but these were just street signs on the road to victory. But the shadow was still there, and there was no way he would ever hide within it.

After all, he hadn't been made a Gryffindor for nothing.

James Potter

Something was going to happen soon. He could feel it. His power was tugging at him, trying to draw him away, somewhere. Where, he didn't know, it didn't matter really, so he didn't allow it to frighten him. He couldn't allow anything to frighten him anymore.

He had given that up years ago, when he was still a child, long before his time, many would say.

But everything for him had happened well before it should have. He had been told that he would save the world when he was only ten, when Dumbledore had learned of exactly what he was capable of. He had first become a murderer at the age of eleven. And he had done away with fear at the ripe old age of six.

Fear was his enemy, for all it instilled a shred of hope. It was Voldemort's favorite weapon, and had brought down too many people. But he couldn't let it rule him.

He couldn't allow anything to.

Fear was a weapon. A weapon to be used by whoever could wield it and not break. Voldemort could, the Death Eaters could, and sadly, he himself could. You really had to watch your step around it though. Desperate people did desperate things, and sometimes magic just wasn't enough.

Fear was a controlling emotion, one that you couldn't gauge the depth, or breadth, of. Fear would take over anything you attempted. Fear would influence your decisions. Fear would taint your very soul.

People would do terrible things to escape fear.

But they would also do terrible things to instill fear.

And James Potter wasn't sure what category he fell under.

Harry Potter

Five adults, all in their mid thirties, were staring defiantly at Dumbledore.

He looked more shocked, and terrified, than Harry had ever seen him in six years. It was a terrifying feeling, to learn that people you thought were untouchable weren't so distanced from humans as you once believed. It displayed human weakness on a stand and broadcasted it to the world when someone like that showed that much emotion, especially one of fear.

Suddenly he was flat on his back with the same five leaning over him, only they were fifteen years younger. The air had a heavy silver hue to it, and it was cool.

Then a flash of green light blinded him, and the woman fell to her knees, and to the floor, a picture of perfect beauty, defeated. The sound of crying reached his ears.

Then he saw one of the men, digging through the ruins of the house, tears silently tainting the ground around him.

And then it was all black. The crying noise escalated, and a scream pierced the still air.

The scream seemed to jolt his vision back to the original picture. Five people, untouchable, undefeatable. One blazed with the same silver light as before, its translucent glow filling the room with him as its center, like the sun.

The power, it was reaching for someone, searching.

And in time, it would find them.

And that was when he was yanked from this dream, if that was what it was. He wasn't so sure anymore, dreams weren't this real, they didn't tug on long forgotten memories. They weren't so lifelike, so rationally fear inspiring.

Above all, they didn't portray three people who had been killed as they would be seen today.

Something was about to happen, and it wasn't going to be good.

Looking at him with concern, were his two best friends. Normally, this would have shocked him, as this was the boys' dormitory, but right now he was a little too freaked out to care.

"What's happening?" He asked numbly, his mind's eye still seeing the five and Dumbledore.

"You were screaming." Ron said simply, Hermione gave him a dirty look.

"I don't think that's what he means. Did you hear it?"

"Hear what?" This was all getting very confusing. He didn't know what she was talking about, he had a headache, and the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Go to him." Hermione said matter-of-factly.

Ron nodded.

Harry just stared at them. "I didn't hear anything, but I saw- I saw-"

"You saw…?" Hermione urged him on, looking at him with curiosity. He shrunk back a little, she was so fierce, and slightly frightening at times.

"I saw them."

Ron Weasley

"Who?" Hermione asked, looking somewhat baffled, which was a good change for her. She was too used to knowing everything, every once and a while it would do her good to be confused.

"My- the Marauders. And my mother."

"What do you mean, you saw them?" Hermione asked, exchanging a glance with Ron. Harry caught the look, and would have scowled, if he hadn't been so confused. He settled for trying to answer her question.

"My dream. They were there, in Dumbledore's office. My dad, Sirius, Remus, Peter and my mum. They were all there. But Dumbledore, he looked," Harry paused to search for the right word. "Shocked. I have never, ever seen him like that."

"But, Harry, are you sure it wasn't a dream? I mean, dreams can feel very life like." Hermione suggested tentatively, as though she was scared that Harry would bite her head off, which he would have, if it weren't for this, vision.

"No. It wasn't a dream, I'm sure of it." Harry's voice was heavy. He got to his feet and looked his two best friends in the eye. "You know what we have to do."

"But, we can't Harry! It's the middle of the night! You of all people should know how dangerous it is to go out after curfew!"

Deep down, Ron knew she was right. A curfew had been set after the rise of Voldemort, everyone must be inside a locked area by nine o'clock at night. On every incident where the curfew had been broken, people had died. Even students at Hogwarts were discouraged from leaving their dormitories after the curfew.

It was hard to disregard the rules when doing so caused death.

Just this summer, two fourth years, a Ravenclaw and a Hufflepuff, had been killed over the break because they had strayed away from home after curfew. No one was eager to repeat that experience.

But he couldn't agree with Hermione, not now. Harry would never forgive him. With an apologetic look to Hermione, Rom stood up beside Harry. Hermione gave him an angry look, but sighed. It was then they knew they had won her over.

"All right, let's go." Harry said firmly. Hermione went back to her dorm to change after making them promise to do the same and meet her in the common room.

Quickly, they did so, now wearing robes and carrying their wands. Harry also had the Marauders Map and his Invisibility Cloak. They snuck down the stairs quietly, Harry still amazed that no one in their dorm had woken up. Ron explained that Hermione had put a simple sleeping spell on them, so that they wouldn't do just that.

When they got downstairs, Hermione was waiting for them at the portrait hole. She also had her wand.

One they were outside, the Fat Lady had a few words for them. "And what exactly do you three think you are doing? It's well past curfew!"

They ignored her and Harry threw the cloak over the three of them with difficulty and they hurried down the hallways, occasionally checking the Marauders Map. All of them had been too afraid to check Dumbledore's office. Harry's hand was placed conveniently over top of it. Neither of the others bothered to point this out.

As they slowly made their way to the Headmaster's Office, they weren't sure what to expect when they reached it. Either it was all a sick joke, or everything that had happened since that night, October 31st, 1981, was all a lie.

They weren't sure which would be better.

Peter Pettigrew

These were quite possibly the most nerve-wracking moments of his life. Even more so than the horrible hours he had spent at Voldemort's side, in fear for his life. Or when, three years ago now, he had had to make Harry think he was the bad guy. Or when, two years ago, he had stabbed the boy, and had done his bit in raising the dark lord.

It was those moments that haunted him. The ones where he could have changed history, and ended it then, but couldn't. The plan had bound him to his actions, and he couldn't have changed them, no matter how much he wanted to. To change the plan would have proved fatal for all of them.

That was why they had spent such a long time working it, going over every possible option. Reassuring each other for those moments in the future, they would have to harm innocents to go on. When they would have to do unsavory things, in the name of salvation.

But these long minutes that stretched on and on were far worse. He hadn't seen these people, his best friends, his family, in fifteen years. And now he was standing behind them, waiting for the headmaster, in this case, their jury, to come to a conclusion.

What he decided could have a huge impact on what happened next. There were two possible paths they could travel down. He could not believe them and they would have to fight behind the scenes, no one knowing they were there. Or he could see the genius behind it, and they could start the revolution.

The ball was in his court now, and they could do nothing until he acknowledged the situation at hand. And if he refused it, things were going to get a lot harder. They would have to disappear once again. He didn't know if they would be able to do that. The loss a great amount of his magic had clearly taken its toll on James.

Someone who didn't know him wouldn't see it, but the four in this room had known it the instant they set eyes on him. He was thinner, hollower, and more distant than ever before. This time apart had changed him, and they didn't know how much. They wouldn't until it began. Then, everything could fall apart, or it could rise higher than before, and the end would finally come.

It came down to a lot of what if's now, and they had to be ready for each and every one of them. There was a long road ahead, with many twists and turns. They would have to stand together to over come them, or they would fall. They would all have choices to make before they could reach the end, some of them harder than others.

He looked around at the four people with him with respect and care. They had all worked so hard to get here, they had sacrificed more than people would know. And now they could get it all back. But nothing would make up for the fifteen lost years.

They were back now, and going to get revenge for what had been taken from them. It really was the Return of the Lost. And they wanted vengeance.

It was hard to be standing here and not be able to reach out for them. Much like those years ago, again in Harry's third year, when they had been right there, and he couldn't speak to them normally, otherwise he would arouse suspicion.

He wanted to ask them how they had been, if any parts of the plan had failed, if they had any fears or doubts about whether or not they could pull it off. He knew he once had such feelings, but now, here in one room with all of them, he felt those doubts fading even as he thought about them. They seemed so silly now, so unimportant.

There wasn't room for doubts. There never had. It was only in his most private thoughts that he had worried, and he knew the others had too. It was only natural of course. Worry and self doubting were some of the most common human emotions. If they weren't worried at all, then they just weren't human.

Maybe that was why it was James who felt especially distant.

He was right there, except somehow not. Peter suspected it had something to do with his power so stretched out. He had seen what that could do to his friend. It was worse than watching him die.

He would be in such great pain, and there was nothing that could be done until the power returned to him. But this time it wouldn't have to go that far. His power was in this very castle, just waiting to be reunited with him. They were all waiting for that. It seemed like a good goal. It felt as though once they reached it, it had really begun. Once he got his full strength, and his wand, back, things would change. Then he would really be himself, and nothing could stop him, not even Voldemort.

James Potter wasn't supposed to have died.

And they were about to show the world that he hadn't.

They had taken an oath that night, so many years ago. They had sworn upon one sentence, one sentence that had kept them going for fifteen years, never stopping, never giving up.

Never giving in.

"No matter how many of us fall, we do not stop until it is done."

They hadn't broken it yet and they didn't plan on it. They were going to make it happen. It didn't matter what happened before then. It didn't matter what happened to them , or people around them. It didn't matter if the world collapsed, or the heavens exploded.

Even if it killed them all.

They were going to make it happen.