Disclaimer: Everything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling. I own nothing and I am making no profit.

Setting: This story starts a couple of weeks after the end of GoF, but after that goes AU.

Chapter 9: In the Dormitory

"I don't think he likes me," Peter moaned. James grimaced, partly because he felt responsible for Peter's woes by association, but mostly because he wished his friend would just shut up.

"Don't be stupid, Wormtail," said Sirius irritably, probably sensing James's mood. "Why shouldn't he like you? He's James's son for Merlin's sake. It's Fred with the problem. Check this out." He gestured at his purpling left cheek for what was possibly the tenth time that night. "Prongs! Did you see?"

"I saw," said James quietly. He was at the dormitory window with his elbows resting on his knees, watching the moonlight play off the flapping wings of the golden snitch gripped in his hand. He could feel Sirius's critical gaze lingering on him.

"They're still in Dumbledore's office," said Remus, poring over the Marauder's Map. "Harry James Potter." His lip twitched with mild amusement. "Very original."

"Wonder who the mother is," Sirius mused slyly. James tore his attention from the snitch long enough to give Sirius a narrow look. Sirius raised his brows in mock innocence; he never seemed to tire of needling James about his obsession with Lily Evans.

"Lily?" Peter wondered, oblivious to the undercurrents.

Sirius nodded thoughtfully, pretending to mull the idea over. "Maybe. It was a bit hard to tell though. I mean, we didn't really have time to get a good enough look at him," he smirked knowingly at James who found himself resisting the temptation to strangle his friend. He knew what Sirius was doing of course, trying to draw him out by joking about his fears - what if Lily wasn't the mother? - but right now he really wasn't in the mood for it. "What do you think Peter?" Sirius went on. "You were with him the longest."

Peter cocked his head to the side. "Well, he looked a lot like James."

James groaned and Remus let out a quiet chuckle. "No kidding," said Sirius, deadpan.

"Okay," said Remus. "They're outside the office … coming down the spirals. McGonnagal's with them. No, wait, she's for the staff room. It's just Harry James Potter" - he smirked at James - "and Frederick Weasley coming this way through the second floor passage with the troll paintings." He looked up from the map. "They're coming this way," he repeated significantly.

Everyone turned to look at James who suddenly felt that he should do something to make himself more presentable. He stood abruptly, his first instinct to fetch a better shirt from his trunk. Realising that was stupid; he stopped before he reached it. He then found himself uncertain of which direction he wanted to be walking in and ended up turning himself around completely before settling for standing awkwardly in the centre of the room. His hand came unbidden to his hair, making sure it was standing up at the back.

"He's your son, he loves you," said Sirius, giving James his best 'What are you doing, you fool?' look.

"He's a teenager. He hates me," James countered.

"They're with the Pink Lady," said Remus. "They're in the commonroom … They're coming up the stairs … They're outside the third year dormitory … They're outside our door …"

Everyone looked to the door. Nothing happened. Remus looked back at the map. "Still outside the door …"

They waited. Remus looked around at his friends. "Still by the door, probably having a good long chat before coming in here and breaking the inordinate amount of tension …"

At this, everyone glanced at him and laughed nervously, but the laughter was quickly curtailed as Fred stepped into the room, alone, closing the door behind him. He seemed surprised for a moment to find them all staring at him, but nodded to himself with an ironic smile as he spied the map in Remus's lap.

"Harry not coming in?" asked Sirius.

Fred gave him one of his patented you must die looks before replying. "Yeah. I just need to, ah, get a few things straight first."

…………………………………………………………………………..

Five minutes later they had the full story, or as much of the full story as Fred would tell them. The narrative was so full of holes it might have been swiss cheese.

James found himself wanting to shake Fred for hiding the fact that James's own son had been involved in the time traveling accident. Knowing that Fred had sat in classes with him, joked with him and shared a dormitory with him, all the time aware that Harry might be lost in the Dark Ages, made James feel duped and betrayed. He understood why Fred had done it of course; he was following Dumbledore's instructions, but somehow that didn't make it any less appalling. James swallowed his bitter remarks with effort.

"So, he'll be staying in here with us?" asked Remus, not looking entirely comfortable with the idea.

"Yeah," said Fred with a grimace. "He insisted, and Dumbledore said it was alright."

Fred's afraid, James realised. Afraid Harry will change the past.

"Can we bring him in now?" asked Sirius eagerly.

"Yeah," said Fred, resigned. "I'll be right back."

James's hand went up to his hair again as Fred walked out.

………………………………………………………………………………………….

"You talked to them?" asked Harry. He felt as though he'd been waiting forever.

"Yeah," said Fred, obviously unhappy about how much he had just shared with the Marauders. Harry was sympathetic, but at that moment, Fred's fears really weren't his concern. Dumbledore had said the timelines could cope with small changes and Harry knew he could be careful. He wasn't going to let this opportunity to spend time with his father pass him by, and tomorrow he would find his mother and talk to her too.

"And?" he pressed. "How'd they take it? Can I go in?"

Fred sighed. "I think James … your Dad … I think he's a bit nervous. Lupin's hard to read - you know what he's like - he hasn't changed a lot since Hogwarts. Peter; he's just nervous generally. And Black …" he paused significantly, "he seems keen to meet you."

Harry nodded. The time had come to tell Fred about Sirius being innocent. Up until now there hadn't been an opportunity - with Dumbledore's strongly worded warnings about serious alterations to the timelines, Harry hadn't even wanted to discuss it in front of the portraits during the walk to the common room - but now, he and Fred were alone.

"Oh. One other thing you ought to know," said Fred, before Harry had framed what he needed to say into words. "The Marauders - as in the people who wrote the map?" The corners of Harry's mouth went up as he nodded. "That's them." Fred hiked his thumb at the dormitory door. "Your Dad, Lupin … Black … They're the Marauders." He spoke as though he expected Harry to be very impressed with this information.

Harry grinned. "Yeah," he said, enjoying taking the wind out of Fred's sails. "I knew that. But there's something you need to know … "

"You knew?" Fred interrupted incredulously. "Why didn't you ever say anything? And how did you find out?"

"Lupin told me," said Harry. "But Fred, you need to listen … "

"Figures," said Fred. "Alright. I'm just going to say this one more time then I'll shut up about it. You don't have to do this."

"I do," said Harry very seriously. "I don't expect you to understand, but I have to know them if I can. I'll be careful, I promise, but Fred … "

"Alright," said Fred bracingly. "Here we go then." With that he led the way back into the dormitory.

"Wait!" said Harry, following quickly. "I have to tell you some … " he stopped in his tracks. They'd entered the dormitory and now the Marauders - arrayed about the room - were all staring at him. Harry suddenly felt very self-conscious about his hair.

In the heavy silence that now coated the situation, Harry's eyes sought his father who was standing by the window. He was a couple of inches taller than Harry and if it weren't for the hazel eyes, lack of a scar, and the fact that James quite obviously had to shave, Harry might have been looking into a mirror. James was watching Harry carefully, smiling nervously as their eyes met.

And there was Sirius, giving Harry a friendly grin, his long, lanky form leaning casually on a bedpost. He was almost unrecognizable with his short hair, healthy face and bright eyes, but there was something about the way he held himself that was unmistakable. Everything about him screamed that he was too cool for school.

Lupin was cross-legged on the floor, looking back up at Harry with a neutral expression. He looked younger than Harry had been expecting, and was, as always, very pale.

And there was Peter, small and shifty, opening and closing his mouth as though he wanted to say something.

"Out with it then Wormtail," said Sirius, also, now, watching Peter.

"Can I have my wand back?" Peter asked abruptly. Everyone but Harry let out a laugh, clearly feeling that Peter had broken the tension. Harry only gave Peter what he hoped was a blank stare. The wand was in his pocket but he knew here was no way he was going to give it back.

"Have you got it?" asked James in a friendly way.

"No," Harry lied coldly, hating that this was the way he was speaking to his father, but feeling powerless to respond any differently to the question. "I don't. I dropped it."

James's smile faltered. "We'll have to go look for it tomorrow then," he said. Harry gave him a tight smile.

"So," said Sirius, a huge grin on his face. "We want to know all about you of course, Harry. I know we're not supposed to ask the big questions," he gave Remus a quick look, "but you must tell us this: do you, or do you not, play quidditch?"

"Yeah," Harry grinned, grateful to Sirius for changing the topic. "I love quidditch."

Fred punched Harry lightly in the shoulder. "Best flyer I've ever seen," he said enthusiastically. "He was on the house team, first year at Hogwarts."

James beamed and Harry's gratitude extended out to Fred.

"Hear that?" Sirius enquired of the room. "He doesn't just look like James, he is James." He smirked at Harry. "We should call you Prongs Junior."

James threw Sirius a dirty look and glanced nervously at Harry, obviously afraid Harry would take badly to being compared to him this way.

"Sirius, no one wants to be called that," said Remus tactfully.

"I don't mind," said Harry quickly. In truth, he wasn't thrilled about the name, but the look of relief on James's face was well worth the slight indignity.

"What position do you play?" James asked.

"Seeker," said Harry, wishing he had more than a one-word answer. James nodded in a way that was both pleased and awkward. The conversation seemed to have ended there. Harry felt the eyes of the others on them; perhaps waiting to see what father and son would do next.

"You know what?" said Fred presently, breaking through the uncomfortable silence. "Harry and I were in Dumbledore's office right through dinner."

"Oh, really?" said James quickly. He turned to his friends. "You reckon you lot could go get some food? Cloak's under the pillow." Harry saw him smile gratefully at Fred.

"Sure," said Remus, quick on the uptake. He jumped up from the floor and grabbed the invisibility cloak from James's bed. Sirius looked like he might argue but Remus snatched him up on the way out and proceeded to herd him from the room. Peter trailed after his friends, giving Harry a dark look; no doubt still suspicious that Harry was hiding his wand. Fred waited for a nod from Harry before following. The door closed quietly behind them and Harry was finally left alone with his father.

James approached slowly, tentatively reaching out to place his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I think I can guess who your mother is," he said softly, looking directly into Harry's eyes.

"Right," said Harry heavily, averting his gaze and moving away as the reality of the situation came into focus for him. The topic of James and Lily was to be avoided. The last thing Harry wanted to do was change anything between his parents. He sat himself down on what he assumed was Remus's bed - it was certainly too neat to be Fred's - and gave James an apologetic smile, his mind casting desperately about for a safe topic of conversation but finding none.

"So, you and Fred, you're good friends?" James ventured, coming to sit beside him.

"Yeah, but I'm better friends with his brother," said Harry; grateful James had decided not to press the issue of his parentage.

"Oh, his twin?"

Harry smiled, reflecting sadly that Fred had seemed a lot less upbeat without George. "No," he said. "They have a younger brother; Ron. He's my Sirius."

James laughed in appreciation and Harry found himself grinning like an idiot.

The laughter died away softly as James gave Harry an almost reverent look. "This is so strange," he said. His gaze came to rest on Harry's scar and Harry shifted uncomfortably. He never liked it when people stared at the scar, but this was something else. Remembering Dumbledore's warnings he bit back the urge to tell James all he knew of that fateful night, and how it might be avoided. "I suppose you fell on a doorknob?" James asked wryly, seeming to sense Harry's turmoil.

"Something like that," Harry managed.

James nodded, accepting the vague answer. Harry almost wished he would question him further.

"So what can we talk about?" James asked. The question was close to being rhetorical. "There must be something that won't drastically change things, right?" He turned to Harry hopefully, clearly wanting him to have to have the answer.

"My patronus is a stag." Harry offered. That wouldn't change anything, would it?

James's face lit up. It was as though Harry had given him an all-season pass to the Quidditch World Series. "That's advanced magic for a fourth year," he said.

"Yeah," said Harry, blushing a bit. "I guess it is."

"And I suppose you know I'm an animagus then," said James carefully, not looking at all displeased at the thought. Harry gave him a secretive smile and nodded. "Does Fred?" asked James seriously.

"Oh, no." said Harry. "Just me … and Ron … a-and another friend. Oh, and Dumbledore … and a few … other… people."

"Merlin!" cried James, whose eyes had widened rather comically as this information was divulged. "What did we do, post a bulletin in The Prophet? And what about Remus? Is he … I mean …" he cut himself off, staring at Harry in dismay. "Alright," he said tightly. "Too many questions … timelines … future in jeopardy …" He threw his head back in frustration and hit a fist against the nearest bedpost. "Urgh!"

"We'll have to be so careful," said Harry helplessly. "I want to tell you everything, but ... "

James shook his head. "Remus was right," he said sadly. "It's dangerous for you to be here."

Harry tried hard not to regret his decision at these ominous words.

Awkwardness ensued.