His eyes hurt, as if he hadn't used them in a while. At first he had the strange sensation that he was in a very deep, dark pit.

"James?" That wasn't a dream, he'd definitely heard that. It sounded like Remus. Maybe this wasn't death afterall. All he could see were blurry walls that surrounded his bed.

The walls moved, something cold and metallic was placed gently over his eyes – glasses. Suddenly the world came sharply into focus. The walls were people, three people. One was Dumbledore, the other – as he had correctly assumed was Moony. The third was a healer who he didn't recognise.

"What…happened…" His voice didn't sound like his own; it was weak and scratchy. His throat ached with the effort of even those few words.

"Lie still, James, we almost thought we'd lost you." Dumbledore sounded more careworn than James could ever recall.

"How do you feel, Mr Potter?" The healer enquired gently.

Like I fell off my broomstick into a patch of thorny devil's snare, thought James wryly. He would have liked to crack that joke and lighten the mood but he found that, again, he could only manage a few whispered words.

"Tired…and…thirsty."

The healer moved out of his field of vision, doubtless conducting some tests to tell if he was still alive. He certainly felt alive, his whole nervous system seemed to hum with excess stimuli. It felt rather like rushing upwards out of a very deep lake desperate to break the surface and breathe.

Dumbledore was talking quietly to Moony but he couldn't really hear what they were saying. That was until he caught a name. Peter! The sound of it jolted him out of his remaining sluggishness and he sat bolt upright, prompting a fit of painful coughing. Moony and Dumbledore were at his side in an instant.

"James!" Dumbledore intoned calmly, "you must calm yourself, try to relax."

But he couldn't relax, not now. "Sirus! I need to talk to Sirius!" His breath was coming in huge gasps and he half sobbed as the memories played out before his eyes. The attack, Peter, Voldemort…

"Lily!"

Blind panic gripped him with icy fingers. His heart was racing, he couldn't breathe. The air was stuck in his lungs and his chest seemed paralysed. His struggled violently even as the healers and their assistants held him down on the bed and forced a calming draught between his lips.

"What did you tell him?" The oldest healer snapped, glaring at Dumbledore.

"I said nothing, Robert." Dumbledore replied, looking completely unruffled, "but he is doubtless anxious to hear of recent events."

"But I told you…" sputtered the elderly wizard as Dumbledore swept past him and back to James' side.

Feeling completely drained, James lay back against his pillows. "She's dead isn't she."

He desperately didn't want Dumbledore to nod, especially not in that awful sorrowful way he had seen him do with so many other people, but Dumbledore did nod. James could see the pain in the old man's face but he didn't care, he was more concerned with his own pain. Her face came instantly before his eyes, laughing and tossing her hair as they'd sat around the wireless that night.

"and Harry?" James asked thickly, trying to steady his voice.

"Harry is well. Molly Weasley is caring for him."

But if Lily had died and he, James, had been almost killed then how – "how did he survive?"

"That is the question that we have all asked this past week, and no one yet has an answer. It seems that something about Harry finally defeated Lord Voldemort. He disappeared the night you were attacked."

But then, what of Peter? His brain protested, trying to galvanise him into action.

"I want to talk to Sirius." He said firmly. Dumbledore suddenly looked grave; James glaced sideways at Remus who stood beside him, white faced and silent. Now, for the first time since he had awoken, Remus spoke.

"Sirius has been arrested, James. He's been in Azkaban for almost two weeks."

"Arrested? Why?" What could Sirius have possibly done? He was a trainee Auror, he'd nearly been their secret keeper. Then, suddenly, he knew.

"It was Peter! Peter was the secret-keeper, we switched and didn't tell anyone. We didn't think anyone would think of him."

Remus swore softly. Dumbledore only seemed to grow more old.

"Arrest Peter!" James insisted, mystified by their silence. "That scum put the Cruciatus on me, he's a spy, he betrayed Lily."

Remus seemed to take a few moments before replying. "S..s..Sirius went on the run after the attack. He knew we'd blame him. He went mad and he…he…" Remus gave a low mirthless laugh. "He killed thirteen people, including Peter. They sent him to Azkaban without trial."

So that was it, the bottom had dropped, irrevocably and finally, out of his world. Lily was gone, Sirius was gone and he would never get the chance to make Peter answer for what he had done. He should have expected this, life had been too good for too long. He'd had it all, brains, money, talent on the Quidditch Pitch. Sooner or later life had to knock him down and kick him, didn't it. There was nothing he could do, and as him Mum always said if you didn't laugh you cried. So he cried.