Author's Note: Ello, Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. Jesse.


Harry had been staying with Sirius and Rumes for the last mouth and both had gotten use to waking up in the middle of the night to Harry screaming. Ron and Hermione had come over earlier that day and now all three were in bed. Ron and Harry were both in Harry's room. Hermione was in one of the guest rooms. Right on time the two pranksters heard Harry scream. Both got up and ran into Harry's room. Ron was awake and was trying to wake Harry. Sirius knowing that shaking him wasn't going to help grabbed the glass of water, which was on Harry's bedside table, and had thrown the water on Harry. By then Hermione had run in wondering what was wrong. Rumes sat down on Harry's bed and said softy, " What happened this time, Cub?"

Harry looked at Rumes fresh tears streaming down his cheeks. "He…he…he…shot him. Oh Rumes I know who it is, but it can't be." Harry seemed to be crying even harder now. " The figure isn't a figure… I mean it… he… isn't a man… well on… he is a man but Rumes I… I saw it… It was a… a… a stag Rumes… and it turned into a man… and… and… Voldemort shot him. He shot him."

"Harry. It's ok. Shhh, it's ok." Rumes said softly as he rubbed Harry's back.

Harry sniffed then said, "He shot him, he shot him, he shot him, he shot him."

"Harry." Sirius said as he walked over and gave the boy a hug. " It's ok."

"No it's not ok!" Harry yelled. " He shot him. He shot him Sirius. He… He… shot my dad."

One in the room was prepared for those words. Hermione gave a straggled cry. Ron gasped. Rumes closed his eyes tight.

Sirius stood there just whispering to himself, " No, no, no, no, no, not Prongs. Not James. No, no, no. It can't be true. He was alive. He was alive. No, no, no, no."


Pain, white-hot pain, that's all he felt, was pain. Giving a sharp breath he tried to keep from crying he hadn't cried in all these fourteen years and he refused to start now, but why did he care if he cried or not he knew he was dieing so why did it matter. "Why?" A voice said softly in his mind, "Why, because, why give him the pleasure of knowing he finally got to you." James pulled himself up so that he was leaning against the wall of his cell. James sat there for a moment trying to catch his breath when he went into another coughing fit. Doubled over coughing up blood James didn't see the flash of gold light that filled the room.


Everyone in the room looked up when they heard coughing sharp, rigged, coughing. Turning toward the corner of the room where the coughing was coming from. They saw a bloody beating, man who was so skinny that even in the dim light and the distance between them, they could count almost every bone in his body. The man was puking up blood and in large amounts. One hand was pressed tighty to his chest. Blood streamed from beneath it and from between the figures. The man finally raised his head and a pair of pain filled hazel eyes gazed up at the little group. Not one of the people in the room moved they all just stared. Rumes and Sirius couldn't believe that they were staring at their best friend. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were speechless as they stared at the man. The man, who was none other then, James Potter himself.


Author's Note: I hope you liked this chapter. Now that I have this part finished I can get on too the real story. Jesse.