Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter now, nor will I ever. In fact I'm more likely to become the queen of England...and that's damn near impossible due to my status as a US resident.

Warnings: Slash. M-Preg. R.

Authors Note: Holy shit, It's been a while since I last posted. Almost what? 5 weeks? Eeek. I'm so sorry for not updating any sooner. I've been busy with school and my computer breaking down and a ton of pointless crap going on in my life. ::bows before all reviewers:: generally, I'm the kind of author that answers all the reviewers individually, but to save myself some time (which I really don't have tonight because I've got to go to Drama and Choir in an hour) I'm not doing it this chapter. I'll probably make up for it by posting the answers to them all at the bottom of the next chapter, ok? I've tried to compensate for my lack of updating by making this chapter longer than I usually write. Not by much, but its still an effort on my part. I think that's it, so enjoy the story. Read and Review!

And just as a quick side note for any one who's also reading my story "The Hardest Thing", I hope to post the next chapter of that by Tuesday. Okay? I'm sorry. I'm doing my best.

Chapter 9

Sirius sneered. "What do you want Snape?"

"I was about to ask a similar question Black. I thought the headmaster had told you that dogs aren't allowed in school?"

"I recall him saying something about overgrown bats as well," Sirius replied in the same deadly calm voice.

James stood between the two men looking on anxiously. If someone didn't stop this soon, there'd be some major blood loss. They glared at each other for another moment until Snape sneered one more time and stalked away.

Sirius sighed in obvious relief. "Thank God he went away. I didn't want to become a brutal murder right in front of you."

James smiled gently. "I'm not sure I'd've minded. I didn't like him all that much. Greasy git."

Sirius smiled at him but didn't say anything. He knew very well that only a Hogwarts student would have come up with a description like that. "Lets get going James. We have a nice discussion with the headmaster to go to," Sirius said.

James gulped, but nodded. This was the first time anyone had ever tried to help him figure out who he was. And he was nervous as hell. Plus it didn't really help that said someone helping him was gorgeous.

They came to a dead end with a gargoyle. James was about to suggest that they try another direction when Sirius said 'Snickers' and the gargoyle leapt aside. James's jaw dropped.

"That stone thing just moved," James stated.

"Yeah. It did. But the staircase behind the 'stone thing' that moved is where we're going," Sirius said.

James looked up and noticed the staircase for the first time. He took a deep breath and gulped again. This whole magic thing was a new thing for him. Well, new-old he decided. He could remember bits of it, but not very big bits. Who was he? Why did seeing Sirius raising three kids by himself make him sad? It made no sense. What was he supposed to be feeling anyway?

As Sirius and James walked up the stairs, Sirius was feeling a little nervous as well. What if he'd assumed wrong about James? What would he do? Would all the time he spent trying to find his husband be wasted? Sirius shook his head. Now was not the time to be worrying about it.

Finally reaching the door, Sirius knocked.

"Come in Sirius!" a voice from behind the door called.

Sirius opened the door and gently guided James in before him. James recognized the man before him. The same man who was in the picture James had shown him. Someone he recognized, but did not know why. Albus Dumbledore.

"Al...bus?" James asked in a careful, quiet voice.

The headmaster beamed. "Right in one my dear boy. How may I assist you gentlemen today?"

Sirius smirked. "This is James Albus. He's got some muggle condition called amnesia. But there is no way that he can be a muggle. He painted Harry. I...I don't know how but he did. You're the only person I thought could help us with this. If he recovers his memory, we might be able to find Harry. If we do...we've still got a chance in hell for winning this war," Sirius said.

The headmaster nodded in understanding. James however, looked nonplused.

"Wait...what war?"

Albus gave a grim smile. "I remember telling someone once that not all people are good. The does not change when the people are magically endowed. As of now, we've been fighting against a wizard known as Voldemort for the past 8 years. Unfortunately, we were given a prophesy involving one Harry Potter, the man Sirius tells me you painted. If Harry is dead, we have no hope of winning and even the muggle world is doomed should that be the case."

James jaw dropped, as it seemed to be doing quite often lately.

"What's a muggle? James asked, first question coming to his mind being a trivial one.

"Non-magic person, such as you currently believe yourself to be. Whether or not you are, I can't say for certain just yet," Albus replied with his smile cheery once more.

James nodded. "I think I'm starting to understand this...at least the basics of it. But...with all due respect, what do you need me for? What have I got to do with anything?"

"James, when I saw you, you seemed familiar. And then I saw your painting of Harry. You're our best possible lead to him. Whether this works or not is something completely different but we have to try," Sirius said softly. He was unsure if he should mention the feelings he got when he was around James, but in the end decided not to. It wouldn't do anyone any good to make assumptions grounded on no facts whatsoever.

"Right you are Sirius," Dumbledore agreed.

"H...How are we going to...you know, figure out...if I know something?" James asked, visibly shaking in his chair.

"That is a good question my boy. Indeed...how? AS of now, I couldn't tell you what will and won't work. But first I require some information from you to determine which method is the best to try as of now," the headmaster said.

Everyone sat quietly. As far as James could tell, the headmaster was just staring at him. Then quite suddenly, he was watching all of his earlier memories. Everything under the cloak, inside the sweet shop, the word 'quidditch', his painting...

His painting. That image was brought to the front of his mind. The boy with the messy black hair, vivid green eyes and torn robes. It meant something. It had to. Before he could think any more on it, he was seeing images of himself at college...in his art class. Remembering the sting form his professors' thought on every one of his paintings...except for the first. The one of Harry.

Dumbledore ceased his staring and nearly fell out of his chair. 'How can this be?' the old man though in shock. 'Is it really...?'

"What did you just do?" James asked feeling very insignificant and unimportant.

"Legilmency. It was easier than asking a bunch of questions. But my child. By what name do you call your art professor?" Dumbledore asked.

"Professor Malfoy. Why?" James answered. He was faced with two shocked stares.

"I had hoped I was wrong, but it appears that when Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban, he did indeed go to the muggle world to be Voldemorts outlet there," Dumbledore said in barely more than a whisper.

"It sort of makes sense though. James did say that the only picture Malfoy seemed interested in was the one of Harry," Sirius said finally making the connection.

"Hold up for a second. Professor Malfoy is one of you?" James asked.

"One of us James. You're a wizard as well," Dumbledore said.

Unbidden, images of a huge man with a wild mass of hair and warm beetle black eyes came to mind. 'You're a wizard Harry,' he said. He remembered being in a cold cabin during a storm, a watch beeping 12:00 AM (his birthday, but feeling no joy at all). Remembering laughing as a whale sized blonde boy grew a pigs tail.

"James? James! Come back to earth! James!" Sirius was saying while waving his hand in front of James's glazed over eyes.

James blinked and remembered where he was. "Albus! I remember someone saying that to be before. It was-"

"Calm down James. Open your mind to me and I'll see for myself," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Open my mind?" James asked with wide eyes.

"The first time I used Legilmency on you, I discovered quite a strong block there. That is something that isn't formed naturally. Only a wizard, one highly skilled in Occulemency, could create that block. All I ask of you is to let me see, rather than me breaking in," Albus said smoothly.

"Um...okay," James said closing his eyes and willing whatever self imposed mental shield present would reveal his memory.

Again, the headmaster stared at him and the memory he'd been analyzing played in his mind again. By the time James had watched it for the second time, the headmaster actually had fallen out of his chair.

Sirius looked shocked at James. "I thought it was impossible to surprise Dumbledore. What the heck was in that memory?

James shrugged as Dumbledore shakily got to his feet looking very pale. He swiftly opened a draw in his desk and handed James a long think box. James stared down at it dumbly.

"But Albus that's-,"Sirius protested.

"I realize that Sirius. Be quiet," Dumbledore said. Turning to James he added, "Open the box."

James did and saw a stick. Correction, a wand. He couldn't have stopped himself from picking it up if he'd tried. The wand felt warm and familiar in his hand as it gave off multicolored sparks at his touch.

Sirius looked ready to faint, throw up, or both. But Dumbledore wasn't finished yet.

"James. Listen carefully. I want you to think of the happiest memory you have. Concentrate on that with all you've got. Now repeat after me. Expecto Patronum," Dumbledore said carefully enunciating the syllables in the spell.

James though about everything that happened to him recently, and decided his happiest memory right now was having met Sirius. As he thought of that, he spoke the words, "Expecto Patronum!"

A silver stag leapt from his wand and galloped gracefully around the small office oblivious to the three awestruck stares.

--

A/N: I really don't think this was my best chapter. Blame it on lack of time, writing it when I was supposed to be listening to the teacher, or just some extremely bad writers block. I'd still like to know what you think. Review please!

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