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

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

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Chapter 15: White Lies Between Friends

The boys burst into the dormitory, Remus going for the Marauder's Map, Sirius waiting pale faced by the door, ready to leave again at a moments notice. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Remus recited, having located the map. He proceeded to gaze at it intently.

"Well?" asked Sirius impatiently.

Remus shot him a look. "James and Harry are still outside. Fred isn't with them. Peter is … in the library … um - "

"Where's Fred?"

"Wait, I'll just ... " Remus's eyes went back and forth, searching methodically. Finally, Sirius couldn't stand it any longer and went to look over his shoulder.

"There," he said, pointing. "Fifth floor. It's that room where the moth eaten robes were left."

"What do you think he's doing there?" asked Remus curiously.

"Who knows," said Sirius, ever disparaging now wherever Fred was concerned.

Remus gave him an I'm being patient with you even though you don't deserve it look and said: "Well, he's not leaving in a hurry - look, he's settled in that corner."

They stared at the map, each lost in thought. They'd agreed their first step was to glean where everyone was, but beyond that, they'd yet to plan a course of action.

"Fred's the key," said Sirius. "He knows what happened, he must, and it won't have been personal to him. He'sthe one more likely to talk. He's alone, we'll question him now." Remus raised a brow. "Or you will," Sirius added. "He's more likely to talk to you."

"On the other hand, Sirius," said Remus. "Harry trusts us both, or seems to, and it's likely he wants to hold on to James as much as we do. I think it's to our advantage that this is personal to him."

Sirius thought back to the conversation he'd had with Harry in the Shack and felt very uncomfortable.

"What?" asked Remus.

"Nothing. It's just …"

"What?" Remus asked again, more forcefully.

"I don't want to question him again," Sirius admitted. "The look on his face when he realized I knew that James would die was just … No. I can't. Not yet. Especially when … "

"When what?" Remus prompted softly.

"Something ... " Sirius shifted awkwardly, trying to figure it out himself as he spoke. "He said something in the Shack - something about knowing me. I mean of course he knows me, but … I think I'm family to him, Remus. Like - like a father." He coughed, and fought more a more detached tone. "I mean, think about it. If James had died, I'd do everything I could to see that … "

He trailed off, worried that Remus would laugh at reckless Sirius Black considering surrogate parenthood.

"Of course," said Remus, supportively. "James would choose you as Godfather."

Sirius felt relief. "I don't want to push him," he said. "He's probably still upset. It feels wrong."

"Alright," said Remus, but Sirius had an inkling he was only agreeing for the sake of peace, not because he believed Sirius was right. If Remus really wanted to question Harry he'd needle at the issue over the next few hours until Sirius agreed. That was how Remus worked: avoiding confrontation, but fighting quietly for what he wanted with looks and pointed words; a quality that drove Sirius insane. Sirius himself liked to voice his opinions, usually with great force and energy. He hated it when people didn't say what they meant. Right now, however, he was willing to accept what Remus said at face value if it meant getting his way in the short term. He wanted to question Fred now.

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The common room was rather empty when they reached it, one lone figure moving determinedly for the stairs to the boy's dormitories. Sirius stiffened as he identified James and stopped to stare at his friend. He felt as though he was seeing a ghost. The idea of James's death, and the need to save him, had been so strong in Sirius's mind that it was actually surprising now to see him in perfect health.

James, caught in his own thoughts, only belatedly noticed his two friends, and came to an abrupt halt to avoid barreling into them at the foot of the staircase. His demeanor became uncertain as he caught their expressions.

Remus nudged Sirius subtly in the ribs, bringing him back to reality. Sirius shook himself internally. "Where's your kid?" he asked, aiming for casual and coming up a little short. "You found him right?"

"Yeah, he's with Hagrid," said James, his gaze shifting back and forth between his friends. "Apparently they're close. I needed to do some things without him." He was wearing that wrung out, defeated look he'd had when it had finally registered that Lily thought him an arrogant bully. It was heartbreaking then and it remained so now. Something had happened between father and son since Sirius had last seen James.

"What did he say when you found him?" he asked bluntly.

"Nothing," said James quickly. "We" - he indicated himself and Remus - " were worried about what he might have said to you though." He looked to Remus for support only to find him wearing the same bland look that served him so well in the face of Snape's taunts.

Sirius opened his mouth, balled his fists and closed his mouth again.

"Fine," James snapped, suddenly testy. "Fine. Just give me the map. I'm supposed to meet Fred - I need to find him." He held his hand out.

Remus didn't flinch, nor did he give James the map. "Why do you need to speak to Fred?" he asked instead.

Angry now, James waved his arms around in frustration as he spoke: "I want to know what happened to my son, and it's obvious you two aren't going to tell me!"

"James, calm down - "

"No, Moony, I don't think I will. Give me the map!"

He held out his hand again and attempted to stare Remus down - a bold move when dealing with a werewolf. On rare occasions when the Marauders had been bored enough to turn to staring competitions for entertainment, Remus had never lost.

They never spoke about it, but the friendships of the Marauders functioned under two hierarchies; the first: the human hierarchy, was strongest under the new moon. Under this hierarchy James was leader, Sirius second in command, Remus third and Peter fourth. The second was the pack hierarchy, strongest under the full moon, in which Moony (as the only real wolf of the pack) was the Alpha, Padfoot second, then Prongs, then Wormtail. Either hierarchy could come into play at any given moment, depending on the situation and what it called for. Staring competitions leaned toward pack mentality.

Watching his friends silently battling it out, Sirius realized that James might actually win! Not wanting to think about the ramifications of that potential event - the devastating impact in could have on Remus's psyche as well as the friendship between Remus and James - he made a decision, grabbed the map from Remus and thrust it at James who snatched it up and left without a word.

Remus turned a sharp feral eye on his friend.

"Fred won't tell James anything," Sirius said in his own defense. In truth he had no real feeling for what Fred may or may not say, but he didn't want to upset Remus by voicing his real motives. Remus would never admit how close James had come to besting him. The alpha wolf would not reveal weakness.

He turned to the portrait hole. "Maybe," he said quietly. His eyes shifted to the photo album, still lying by the portrait hole, open on the page Harry had been at before he'd drawn his wand on Peter. Sirius went to retrieve it

Two photographs graced the page; the first was a black and white still of the Marauders smiling and laughing for a shot Lily had taken with a muggle camera; the second was a moving image of James and Peter roughhousing and being idiots together, again, laughing and smiling.

"Wormtail, what have you done?" Sirius murmured.

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James found Fred leaning against the far wall of a pokey stone room on the fifth floor, arms crossed across his chest, deceptively casual, his look resigned as he acknowledged James. As if by mutual agreement, the two came to the centre of the room and sat cross-legged on a pile of old school robes, facing one another in an oddly formal way.

"I don't care about the timelines anymore," James opened flatly.

"No," said Fred, matching his tone. "I didn't think you would."

"My friends are lying to me, my son is a mess; you know why, and you're going to tell me." James spoke with the authority that had always served him well with prefects.

"That's fine to say," said Fred, not at all intimidated, "but I am concerned about the timelines. So what we'll do is come to a compromise."

James laughed bitterly. "Compromise? No. You'll tell me what's going on. You'll tell me what Harry said to Sirius, why Harry is ready to hurt Wormtail and why Sirius's existence apparently offends you.

Fred pursed his lips. "I can honestly say I no longer have a problem with Sirius."

James snorted. "Oh yes, because that kind of intense hatred will resolve itself in an afternoon."

Fred shook his head. "I was misinformed, but Harry's filled in some gaps and I'll admit when I'm wrong. Truly. I'll patch it up later."

"And Harry's problem with Wormtail?"

Fred looked pained.

"I told you I don't care about the stupid timelines!" James exploded.

"Ido," Fred answered strongly, unphased. James glared. This wasn't how this was supposed to go. Fred was supposed to be the one being rattled by James's calm concise words, not the other way around.

"I can't reveal everything," Fred continued, "but I'll tell you this so you understand: Harry is … important. Not just to you or me, but to the Wizarding World. His role in the war is pivotal and if timelines concerning him are altered … who knows how many will suffer for it."

James sat dumbfounded for a second, unsure he'd heard correctly - whatever he'd been expecting Fred to reveal, responsibility for the outcome of the war certainly hadn't been a part of it - somehow he'd expected the problem to be more personal. "How can he be a pivotal figure in the war?" he blurted at last. "He's only fifteen!"

Fred paused to weigh his next words, no doubt considering their future impact. "Something … happened," he said, "when he was a baby. It made him a target. It made him famous. And it's not just Death Eaters after him. It's You Know Who himself. Harry's been in some tight spots."

"I wouldn't let anything happen to him," James interrupted, suddenly feeling a need to defend his parenting in the face of all this.

"You didn't have much choice James. Things happened at Hogwarts."

"Under Dumbledore's nose? Voldemort wouldn't dare!"

Hearing the forbidden name, Fred winced. "He dared. He planned a kidnapping a year in advance."

"But - no, that can't be right," said James, clinging to logic. "If Voldemort kidnapped him, how is he breathing? If what you're saying is true, he'd have been tortured and killed!"

"He escaped," said Fred simply, inadequately. The words explained nothing. "James, I'm sorry, but you must understand. We must be very careful in what we reveal, and not just for ourselves. Harry's very existence is the biggest blow against the dark arts our side has struck. If we change his past …"

"Hewas tortured," James interrupted, realization dawning. Fred hadn't denied it, and James knew it was the truth. Something about the way Harry had gripped his shoulders, Fred's overprotective manner, and Harry's quickness to defend himself made James believe it was the truth. Fred stayed silent, confirming the suspicion.

"How do I prevent it, Fred?" James asked coolly. Fred shook his head, pity in his eyes. "He's your friend!" James insisted. "You can't tell me you don't want to help him!"

Fred raked his hands through his hair and refused to meet James's eyes. "I can't," he said. "If you try to change the events leading to it, You Know Who might be ruling the Wizarding World in my time. I'm sorry James. I just can't."

Angry tears prickled James's eyes. "I won't accept this," he said, and left the room.