Drowning. He was drowning. Each time he tried to surface another wave would wash over him, forcing him back down into the depths of his mind.

Someone was screaming. It sounded like Lily. The door of their home burst in over and over again. Green light exploded and Lily fell, dead, a thousand, thousand times. Harry cried.

"Ah, Potter, if only you could see yourself now."

He knew that voice. Remembered it from...somewhere. It was so familiar, as if he had known it all his life. It was important. Somehow.

"Lily, take Harry and Go!" he shouted. "It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off!" His own voice seemed far away.

It isn't real.

Lily was stumbling across the room. Someone was laughing, a horrible, high-pitched sound that made his skin crawl. An explosion, then pieces of wood flying in all directions, impossibly slowly.

They were just memories. It wasn't happening. The small part of his mind that had managed to resist was getting fainter and fainter.

Pain. He couldn't move, only watch, as Lily was murdered. Harry started to cry. James tried to move, but his limbs wouldn't respond. It wasn't possible. The Fidelius charm. Sirius's bluff. Peter had gone into hiding.

Peter! The voice was Peter's.

He was being dragged away. Away from Harry. His son was still crying. He tried to fight, but his arms and legs waved ineffectually. This wasn't possible.

Peter. The voice in the back of his mind was growing stronger now.

Voldemort stood over Harry and waved his wand. He couldn't. James had to stop him.

Peter had betrayed them. He had been the spy. It had been Peter all along.

Pure, white-hot rage gave him the strength to break free. He lunged at Peter, bowling over the shrunken, balding little man and pummeling him with his fists.

It was quite some time before his rage played out and he thought to take the man's wand. By then, Peter was a bleeding mass of bruises.

"What is going on?" he asked the traitorous rat. "Where am I?"

Peter squeaked instead of replying, staring fearfully at the wand pointed directly between his eyes.

"Give me a reason, Peter," he whispered in the deadliest voice he could manage. He didn't think he could have actually done it, but Peter didn't know that. He gave another frightened squeak.

"Wales."

"Where's my wand? My glasses?"

Peter, trembling, whispered, "I don't know."

"What are these?" He held up one wrist to display the thin band of metal.

"Th-they make you more susceptible to the magic."

"What's happened to me?" When Peter didn't reply, he shook him so hard his teeth chattered. "What have you done to me?" he shouted.

"Nothing," the rodent-like man whimpered. "Just a charm, a simple charm! To make you--"

"Remember," James breathed. The screaming in his head increased in intensity. Insane laughter echoed off the inside of his skull. He could almost see Lily falling slowly to the ground.

"How long?" he demanded, shaking Peter again. "Why?"

"Years!" Peter was laughing now. "More than a decade!"

"Why?"

"The Dark Lord came for you himself. Did you truly expect him to let you die?" Peter's eyes were darting back and forth.

James punched him in the face. "Don't even think about transforming." His anger was building again. The laughter grew louder.

Peter was laughing again. "They're all dead. You're alone, James Potter. All alone. By those few that remain, you're all but forgotten. They fight for their survival like--"

His anger overcame him completely, and he slammed Pettigrew so hard against the floor that he was knocked unconscious, immediately wishing he hadn't. Had he been telling the truth? Were they all dead? Peter had looked desperate when he said that last. But then, in truth, Peter had always looked desperate.

One thing at a time. He had to escape. There was a door in here, somewhere. But were there others here? More Death Eaters? He didn't know how many he could hold off with Peter's wand. It was probably the most incompatible match possible.

Or he could Apparate. One quick swish of his wand and--

No. He wasn't thinking clearly. Attempting to Apparate with Peter's wand without at least knowing where he really was and in what direction he was headed was an almost certain way to get himself splinched. At the moment he didn't have much of a destination in mind, and it was doubtful that he was actually in Wales.

One thing at a time, he reminded himself again. He examined the band around his wrist carefully and decided that cursing it off was probably not a good idea. The metal was thin enough that he'd probably slit his own wrist in the process.

There was a small hole on each of the bracers. Well, it was worth a try.

"Alohomora," he whispered, pointing the wand at his left wrist.

Nothing happened. James set down the wand and searched Pettigrew for a key. Several minutes had passed by the time he'd finally found it. Would they come looking for Pettigrew? Was there even anyone else here?

They came off easily. Now where to go?

He had to get outside. Away from here. The screaming and laughter had lessened, but it was not gone entirely. Maybe outside it would be better.

He needed a plan. He'd spent his entire Hogwarts career sneaking out of places or into other ones. To escape, he had to get out of this room, find his way outside, and acquaint himself at least partially with the surroundings so he could Apparate away.

It was difficult to think clearly. A nagging worry over whether or not Peter's last words had been true distracted him every time he tried to organize his thoughts. If it was not that, then it was Lily, or Harry, or the other two Marauders. The only plan he could come up with involved blasting his way through a wall of solid rock.

Peter's wand seemed to disagree with him. His Reductor Curse made a dent about a centimeter deep in the stone, and James couldn't be entirely sure that it wasn't there before.

He had to Apparate. It was his only choice, unless he wanted to sit there and wait for a Death Eater to show up or starve to death in the room.

Concentrating, he drew himself up and closed his eyes, imagining the cell around him. Outside, he thought. Outside. He waved Peter's wand. There was a loud crack, and then he was falling.