A/N: Sorry it took so long but this chapter was disgustingly hard for me to write - this is the third version I've done and I'm still not completely satisfied. Still, this is probably as good as I can get it right now - I hope it satisfies.

Thank you for all your reviews everyone, they're all much appreciated.

Also, I received a few queries as to whether I had given this up. I would never give up a story just before the biggest chapter (plotwise not lengthwise) and I would certainly tell you if I did. This has been ready for about a week or more but I have been unable to upload it because of the glitch many of you will already know about. In future, if something like that happens, I will post a note in my profile (I did this time but I couldn't tell you it was there because if I could I might as well just tell you . . .. ) Here you go, anyway, have fun.

"Are you sure Albus?" James asked one Saturday morning a couple of weeks later. He was standing in front of the desk in the Headmaster's office, earnestly trying to deny that, as Albus argued, he needed a holiday. The portraits around him were shouting out their own views, which both of them ignored with the ease of long practice. "I'm happy enough staying to help you keep an eye on things."

Albus smiled at him, the proud smile of a mentor who knows that his protégé is completely serious about this: his heart just as pure as it appears.

"My child, I have been Headmaster in this school for about fifty years now and taught at it for close to a hundred. Don't you feel that I can look after myself for less than two days?"

"Of course, but…."

"No buts, Harry. You go and take some time off to see your family."

"My family?"

"Aren't they among those you'd count? Family is a blessing you understand the value of. Go on, don't worry about me, the school will still be standing when you return."

"A large proportion of my family is here, actually, but okay, since you're sure you'll be okay" James agreed reluctantly. It wasn't that he thought Albus wasn't completely competent but he was getting old, even for a wizard, and if something happened when he wasn't there . . .

James' eyes met the blue ones of his old teacher and they smiled, knowing and acknowledging the depth of their friendship. Content now, James turned and went back down to the dungeons.

Albus watched him go, his smile sad now. As with many ancient and powerful wizards, it was given to him to feel when his time was approaching and it was. He would have embarked on the next great adventure before the flowers blossomed again. At his age, it might even be in bed and he sincerely hoped it would be, if only to spare those he would leave the pain.

James meanwhile was soon down in the now familiar dungeons. His home, as much as the Gryffindor tower had ever been.

"Severus!" he called, coming into their quarters. He followed the scent of breakfast and took himself through to the kitchen. "Do you mind if I go and see Draco and Blaise for the weekend?"

"If you're worried as to whether I can manage to dress myself in your absence, I suggest you pull your head out of whatever hole you've buried it in and take that as your answer. If anything happens here, I'm fairly sure that Hogwarts will make sure that you know."

"She will?"

Severus sighed and his faced assumed the expression familiar of old that he used when dealing with a small child, first year or Harry.

"Hogwarts dotes on you, everyone has been walking around in peace and tranquillity as if it had been Christmas every day for months. There hasn't been a single fight bar the scuffle in Gryffindor at New Year and you should know by now that the castle is half sentient. She has feelings, just like that car that Arthur Weasley animated. I am sure that if she feels threatened, you will find yourself in the Great Hall before you are even aware that there is a problem."

"Oh. Right

"Your things are over by the door if you want to leave now."

James looked back the way he'd come to see a small hold-all, packed while he was gone. Everyone seemed to think he needed a break, so he might as well go. Even Severus had gone to the Malfoys the previous weekend and came back looking refreshed.

"Master James! Master James is here!" shrieked the house elf clinging to his leg as he approached the nursery. James looked at him and began the slow process of peeling off his over enthusiastic welcomer.

"Hello Dobby," he said, well resigned to the house elf's hyperactivity by now.

Dobby looked at him, beaming, then glanced from side to side as if checking for eavesdroppers.

"Dobby is looking after Master Harry," he half whispered, proudly.

"I'm sure you're really good at that," James said. He supposed Draco and Blaise knew best but Dobby?

"Dobby was looking after Master Draco when he was a little master so Dobby is knowing exactly what to do," Dobby said, still beaming. Then he said quietly and confidentially. "Master Harry is a much nicer baby than Master Draco was. Master Harry is clever."

James laughed. The thought of a little blond blob with blond hair and a pout struck him as amusing, as well as the pout the adult Draco would pull if the mention of him being a somewhat less intelligent baby than his son came up. Still, Harry was his godson after all, and with his influence, of course the child was intelligent.

"Where is Harry?"

"Master Harry is in the nursery with Mistress Malfoy," Dobby said. "She told Dobby to come here. Dobby can take you there now."

With an uncharacteristic abruptness for a house elf, Dobby took his arm and 'popped' them upstairs. While James was grateful at being spared the walk, a little warning might have been pleasant.

Looking around the nursery, he could see a number of changes since his last visit, one of being the state of messiness the room was currently in, various toys, towels and baby clothes being scattered around the room. Across the door was a firmly secured piece of cloth that rose to mid-thigh on him, presumably to keep the baby in as Harry now realised, seeing a little bundle of clothes crawling with remarkable speed towards him across the room. Blaise, lounging on the sofa, hooked him with practised ease and placed him back at her feet.

"James," Draco said with a smile as Dobby scooped up Harry and took him over to the far corner where they amused themselves by pulling faces at each other. Really, Dobby was nothing more than an overgrown toddler himself at times. "It's about time you came over. Severus told us you were in the attack and got wounded."

"Severus fusses sometimes," James said, somewhat irritated but mostly touched by their concern. "I was nicked a couple of times by cutting hexes, simple cuts that took an hour or so to heal up fully with a potion. I can assure you that the Death Eaters we were fighting are in much worse condition, including the vampires."

"They'd be in an even worse one once my father discovered they'd failed in what he'd thought was a simple task. That is, if you let any of them get away."

"A couple of vampires, that's it."

"You didn't lose anyone, did you?" Blaise asked anxiously. "Surely Severus would have mentioned . . ."

"He probably would have. No, everyone's fine now though Fleur was stuck in the Infirmary overnight. I notice that Harry's crawling now."

Draco beamed at him like the proud father he was; he looked much sweeter than James would have thought when he smiled that widely, like a five year old in a toy shop.

"Harry has been crawling for three weeks now, he can almost beat Dobby in a crawling race as well."

"A crawling race?"

Draco shrugged.

"Harry seems to enjoy it and it appeals to Dobby's sense of humour. Still, he's fast, isn't he? Just watch him go. He'll be a Seeker when he's older, mark my words."

"Especially with our careful coaching."

"Watch it, you two," Blaise warned them playfully. "I'm a Chaser and so is Severus. We'll be doing our best to stop you corrupting him."

"Corrupting! Seeking is the most honourable position on the pitch: the thrill of one to one combat, the speed, the talent, the skill . . . ."

"And so modest as well. Besides, he's not touching a broomstick, even as a passenger, until he's at least seven."

Draco looked horrified at the thought.

"Love, I had my first broom when I was three. You have to start early, else it isn't as natural. James, you'll back me up on that, won't you?"

"I didn't even see a broom until I was eleven."

"Eleven! And you're that good?"

"My first captain called me a natural. By the way, when Harry's older, I'd like to buy him his first broom. As his godfather it's my responsibility to encourage such dangerous sports as Quidditch, duelling and dragon hunting."

"Dragon hunting? I assure you Evans, my son is not going anywhere near a dragon until he's at least seventeen," Draco said, looking paler than ever.

"I needed a third activity. Replace it with pranking, if you want. That can be dangerous, especially if he tries to prank us or Severus."

Draco and Blaise looked at him helplessly, then started laughing.

A couple of hours later, Dobby looked up from his game, picked up Harry gently with a practised ease and brought him over.

"Do Masters and Mistress want to have Harry now?" he asked. Without waiting for a reply, the gurgling baby was placed unceremoniously in James's arms and Dobby vanished.

"It's almost Harry's lunchtime," Blaise said by way of explanation. "I think Dobby's gone to get it ready."

James looked down at the chubby face and tapped the little nose gently with his finger. Harry gurgled at him, beaming and brought his short little arm up to feel James's forehead. Alarmed and suddenly remembering the last time it had happened, James distracted Harry quickly with a game of peek a boo. If Harry could see through the make up, or sense something, it was possible he had some sort of Seeing talent. If not, he was just a baby with a knack for scaring the hell out of his poor suffering godfather.

Suddenly Harry started whimpering and Blaise quickly scooped him up and started soothing him while James stared at them helplessly. One moment the baby was happy, the next minute he was upset. What had he done?

He got an idea a moment later. Pain shot through his body and he screamed, falling forwards onto the floor, writhing. It felt like his whole body was on fire, that his magic was being sucked out of him. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Blaise and Draco's concerned voices but he couldn't respond. There was a gentle mental nudge and it felt like the bottom of his mind had dropped out as he was sucked into a vision the like of which he had hoped never to experience again.

He was in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, there was no doubt about that, and it seemed to be lunchtime. That meant it was happening now or - as the presence within his mind seemed to negate it - a few minutes ago. The students were cowering, most under the tables, and the teachers were standing in the central aisle, wands drawn. At the front of them was Albus Dumbledore and opposite them . . . opposite them was Lucius Malfoy and what appeared to be his entire contingent of Death Eaters, arrayed neatly in their ranks, wands out and ready for their master's order.

"Lucius Malfoy," Albus said, his voice steady and calm. "I must ask you to leave the grounds immediately or I will be forced to take action.

"You?" Lucius sneered, his disgust evident. Obviously he was as lacking in common sense as he was in sanity, hardly a difficult association to make.

"I. You forget, Lucius, that it was I that defeated Grindewald, that stood against Voldemort in both of his risings."

"You old man? Without Potter you are nothing, and my lord finished him off. I have risen greater than either and your time is now over."

"That remains to be seen but I am not the last or the only defender of the light," Albus said. Maybe what he had said at the Order meeting had been correct, maybe he was resigned to death and was now trying his best to defend his school and put doubt into the hearts of the Death Eaters. "In my wake comes the Heir of Slytherin and Gryffindor and doubt not, Lucius, he will destroy you."

The self-proclaimed Dark Lord seemed a little concerned at that, then he sneered again.

"Lord Voldemort was the last of the line of Slytherin and Potter was the last of the line of Gryffindor. They are both dead, the lines are ended and if that is the best you can do, my complete victory is near. Stand aside or die!"

"I cannot back down when the school is in danger," Albus stated, still calm. James knew this to be correct, it had been part of the warding oath. He felt an itch to be there himself.

"So be it, old fool. AVADA KEDAVRA!" Lucius Malfoy shouted, green light spurting in a somewhat feeble approximation of the killing curse. Of course, it was fighting the wards, no wonder it was weak. It sped through the air none the less. Albus stood there, accepting it and it struck him in the chest. For a moment, James thought he had done the impossible but then his mentor slowly toppled. A number of students screamed, the teachers were pale and white. Severus in particular looked horrified: he had looked on Albus as a grandfather, also knowing that his fate as a traitor would be worse than any other's at Lucius' hands.

James tore himself from the vision, filled with the need to defend Severus and the school. His eyes snapped open and he leapt to his feet, already moving. A hand went up to brush his forehead to feel that the make up had been seared away by the magic of wards rushing through him. Draco and Blaise were staring at him; Harry clutched in her arms. Undoubtedly they could see the scar and he knew that with his anger, his eyes would be blazing with power, he could feel it roaring in his ears.

"No questions now. Hogwarts has been breached; Albus is dead. Lucius will be as soon as I get my hands on him."

A sweep of his wand had his hair once again at the familiar shoulder length, his robes were enlarged from his pocked and spelled on and his wand was drawn.

"This ends now," he said, did the impossible and Apparated into Hogwarts.

They stared at him - Death Eaters, students and teachers alike - as he stood there over the Headmaster's body, quite obviously furious. All except the Death Eaters had known James Evans, the Defence Professor, was a powerful man but nothing had prepared them for this. He looked more like a demi-god than a mortal man as the power spilled out of his body, making him glow with silver light. James looked down at the corpse of a man who he had considered one of his closest confidants. He looked his years as he lay there, frail and broken. Slowly, he knelt and straightened the body, closing the eyes and folding the arms over the wand on his chest. Satisfied at last, he rose to look accusingly at the Death Eaters who had dared attack one of his family.

"Who are you?" Lucius managed to demand with a semblance of his normal tone. He was the only one of them unmasked, dressed in black velvet robes that were quite obviously the best money could buy, hair immaculately groomed. Obviously life as a fugitive wasn't quite as harsh as the Ministry would have liked it to be.

"Your worst nightmare," James replied, sending stunning curses at two of the Death Eaters from his bare hands.

Lucius glanced at them, dismissed them as unimportant and turned back.

"Your name?"

"I'm not answering that. This is your final warning."

"Do your worst, boy."

"I, the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, banish these uninvited guests from the grounds by virtue of my magic and blood," James said, the words coming to him instinctively. As the ward-holder, he was indeed acting-Headmaster until a new one was selected. Nothing happened. A few Death Eaters were brave enough to laugh.

"You see, we aren't uninvited," Lucius said, sneering. "Your petty tricks won't work on us."

"Who was foolish enough to invite you?"

From behind the ranks of the Death Eaters came one slighter figure, similarly masked. With a bow to his 'Dark Lord' he removed his mask. It was Walter Smethley, a fifth year Ravenclaw and he looked like he was about to burst with pride.

"Traitor!" some brave student called out. Without looking, James wondered whether it was a Gryffindor or a Slytherin, certainly the voice was familiar.

"You know Walter, had you come to us, we would have protected you," he said sadly, knowing that the boy had done it willingly.

"I am proud to serve my master, mudblood."

"Language, language," Lucius chided lightly, mockingly. "As you see, you cannot be rid of us so easily. Now, will you tell us your name so we can put it on your grave?"

"Can't you guess, Malfoy?" James asked quietly, mockingly, putting his disappointment behind him as best he could. When no answer was forthcoming he said very slowly, very deliberately. " My name: Harry . . . James . . . Evans . . . Potter, heir of the line of Gryffindor by my father's grace, heir of the line of Slytherin through my mother's blood, Defender of Hogwarts and current Headmaster."

The hall broke out into shocked mutterings. The students were cheering, he'd given them hope when they thought they were all dead. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Slytherins hammering on the tables. Then James smiled a smile that made Lucius tremble in his tailored, handmade boots.

"Incidentally, I'm also your grandson's godfather."

"What! Potter?"

"Actually, I discovered that I have something of a Slytherin side to me. I was in Merlin house at University and discovered that I get on quite well with Draco and he gave me the honour. You know he's named the child after me, of course - Henry Severus Malfoy."

"A traitor and a mudblood. How appropriate for the little blood traitor's bastard. He will be taught the proper ways after I have disposed of you and my worthless offspring."

"Says something about your skills as a father, doesn't it? The thing is that once I am dead, you won't be able to find him, unless you happen to be Gryffindor's heir?"

"Enough talk Potter. As I told your . . . predecessor, the rule of the light is over. I rule now."

"I would dispute that. I killed your master, the one whose feet you grovelled at for years, and I can't see you as presenting a greater challenge. Look who you've brought with you, the dregs of wizarding society."

"Avada Kedavra!" Lucius said. Nothing happened, not even a spark of green light.

"You see," James said, teeth clenched with anger now. "Although Albus was technically brilliant and relatively powerful, in terms of sheer power, I outstrip him easily. The wards are stronger than before, your dark magic will no longer work."

"Light magic works as well."

James ignored him, turning his back to look at the staff table while silently erecting the strongest shield he could hold. His eyes met those of his lover and he smiled encouragingly when he saw the look of sick worry in his face.

"Severus," he said lightly, "I might need some of your potion after this, you know the one I mean."

"If you survive that is," Lucius said, shooting a spell at his back.

James spun, dropping into a crouch. Before he could even identify it, it had dissipated against the shield.

"Attacking when my back was turned, Malfoy? I'd have expected better from a pureblood."

"I'm a Slytherin."

"Are you indeed? Then I'll give you a taste of Slytherin's gift."

Lucius didn't answer. His face was flushed - with anger or embarrassment, James couldn't tell - and he shouted out another spell. James stood there, gathering himself, trusting in his shield. Slowly, he closed his eyes to concentrate and reached within himself for the shimmering core of magic that he had discovered, that his gift allowed him to touch and manipulate in its raw form. Slowly, he drew it out and opened his eyes again, aware that the glow around him was now blinding. Smiling with grim determination, he released the energy.

A pure bolt of silver-white light shot across the small gap separating them. It hit Lucius Malfoy in the chest. When the spots cleared from everyone's eyes, they saw nothing but a pile of ashes. James . . . Harry turned his gaze at the Death Eaters.

"That was for Albus," he said blankly. Then he continued with a little more of his normal control although he was still blazing in their eyes. "I could kill you but I won't. Unless you have a death wish, you will remain here until the Aurors arrive."

He turned again and smiled blissfully, task accomplished.

"Ouch," he said calmly then he collapsed and the light around him vanished.

They stared at him for a moment in shocked silence. Severus was the first to shake himself out of his stupor.

"Students, return to your common rooms immediately. Prefects, I am asking you to ensure that everyone remains there until order is restored," he said, the familiar voice perhaps the only thing that was keeping them from mass hysteria. They began to pour out of the hall, many of them in tears, the prefects calling out to shepherd strays back into the columns. "Minerva, perhaps you could see to it that Albus's body is looked after and someone had better call for the Aurors to deal with that lot."

"And James . . . Harry?" she asked quietly from where she stood beside him.

"We'll be in our quarters," Severus said softly, suddenly seeming subdued and helpless. "From what he's told me, he's exhausted and burnt. There is nothing we can do, except treat his wounds and hope. If Draco arrives, send him to Aberforth."

"And Smethley?"

"Give him to the Order when the rest of them arrive and confine him to Grimmauld Place. I think Harry would be the best person to talk to him and there's no point in putting him back in the dormitories: even the Ravenclaws would lynch him."

"I'll take care of things," she said, putting a comforting hand on his arm. "You look after Harry and I'll keep them away from you."

"More precisely we'll be in James' rooms - his password is in Parseltongue and while I have free access no one else does. Send a house elf with food and any messages."

She nodded and stepped away as the man knelt down next to his lover and, with a gentleness and strength few had ever seen in him, lifted him into his arms and pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead.

Severus sighed, focussing on the task in hand to stop his tears from flowing. Albus's death so soon left a hole in him that he didn't even realise had been filled. He made his way past the rest of the staff, heading down towards the dungeons. He passed the slow moving Slytherin column.

"Is he going to be all right sir?" Archie asked, genuine concern written in his face.

"I don't know," Severus said blankly. "We can only hope."

"Alistair?"

"Keep him with you. He'll only suffer if he comes with me."

The prefect nodded and continued to shepherd his charges away. Severus reached their rooms, the portrait wordlessly swinging open as he approached and laid James on their bed. Deftly, he stripped the unconscious body and spread the soothing liniment into his skin. At last he stepped back and looked at his work.

"You'd better recover," he half threatened, though the half-choked sound betrayed his bantering tone. "Because I don't know what the rest of us are going to do if you don't."

A/N2: So, there you are. Like it? Anywhere blatantly obvious that I've missed where things don't fit? Only two more chapters to go as far as I can tell. I'd never anticipated this being quite so long but I reckon I'm pleasantly surprised.