Wormtail scurried along the sewer ground, breathing deeply, or as deeply as a rat could breathe. Wincing ever so often at the many cuts and bruises spread over his rat's body.

I'll get you for that, Sirius, he thought broodingly, but knowing that this statement was false. Sirius was just too strong and tough for Peter Pettigrew to overpower. But he also knew that he would meet Sirius again. He would meet James again. And he would most definitely meet Harry Potter again.

For it was with this knowledge that Peter found the courage to transform back into his human form now crouched under a particularly foul smelling pipe. He inspected his stubby arms and legs, sighing, somewhat dramatically, at the number of cuts and bites covering his skin. It had been a day since Sirius had mauled Peter, but it still burned and once so often, a cut would reopen itself and blood would seep through.

Damn that boy, Peter scowled. I was so close to killing him. Why hadn't I?

But the answer was clear. Peter was having doubts. Why kill an infant? If You-Know-Who was so powerful, how could a baby overcome him? Was Peter sure he was on the right side? James and Sirius had always said he made bad judgements; maybe this was one of them.

Either way, he couldn't resurface to the wizarding community. He was a wanted criminal. He was the cause of Lily Potter's death. That, in itself, was a term in Azkaban. But what of Peter's now well known loyalty to You-Know-Who? For James would make sure that the wizarding world knew of Sirius' innocence and Peter's betrayal. He wasn't welcome among the Marauders anymore.

But was he welcome among You-Know-Who's supporters? Was he welcome among the Death Eaters? How could he be? He had sentenced the Dark Lord to his downfall. But Peter knew he wasn't dead just… indisposed. He had to find a way to get back on his master's good side. And Harry Potter was the opportunity he was looking for. If he could just get his hands on the boy, perhaps deliver him to You-Know-Who himself, then he was in, a faithful Death Eater once more. But James was more than a messy haired, bespectacled boy. He was much more and a protective father was one. James wouldn't give up Harry without a fight and with friends like Sirius and Remus, it was going to be a pretty hard for Peter to even look at Harry the wrong way.

"Damn it!" Peter cussed as he stood up absentmindedly forgetting of the pipe above his head. "I need to find bandages."

James walked down Privet Drive trying to still his shaking hands. He glanced down at his attire and wondered if the Dursley's would approve. He was wearing plain blue jeans and a red T-shirt. It was nothing special or creative, but he hadn't worn muggle clothing in a while that he had forgotten what kind of clothing was suitable or not.

He sighed heavily as he neared number four. He wished he had Harry with him, but he knew it was a good idea to leave him with Sirius. James didn't want Harry there if things turned nasty.

He stalked up the driveway and onto the porch. He knocked lightly on the door and waited, staring at the mat. He heard shuffling coming from inside and the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a flustered looking woman holding an overly large baby that could easily be mistaken for a toddler.

"Yes?" she snapped, only merely glancing at James before returning her attention to the baby, trying to brush down his hair.

"Petunia?" James asked tentatively.

Petunia Dursley raised her head and stared more piercingly at James. Her confusion slowly turned to realisation which became horror and terror mixed in one.

"Vernon!" she shrieked, turning her head back into the house. "Vernon, hurry!"

There was a grunting sound from inside and seconds later a purple, beefy man appeared at Petunia's shoulder. He glared a minute at James, before swelling.

"You!" he hissed, standing protectively in front of Petunia and their whale of a son. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you," James said, trying not to anger them. "About…about Lily."

Petunia seemed to tense up. "What has that tramp done?"

James had to force his arms to cross over his chest so as not to stroke the temptation of hexing her into oblivion.

"How dare you call such a beautiful and loving woman that filthy word!" James spat. "All she has ever done is show her kindness and you treat her like scum!"

"Stop blubbering, boy," Vernon snapped. "Why have you come?"

James swallowed. How was he supposed to say this? How was he supposed to tell Lily's sister?

"Spit it out," Vernon hollered. "I haven't got time for your kind."

"Lily…Lily…"

"Lily what?" Petunia asked, obviously annoyed as Dudley decided to splutter and choosing to ignore the tears now forming in James' eyes.

"Lily…she died two…two days ago," James stammered.

Petunia's eyes seemed to glaze over for a minute. Vernon stared wide-eyed at James, words failed him.

"What?" Petunia asked, her eyes now unglazed.

"Lily…she died two days ago," James clarified, wiping the tears from his eyes and studying both Petunia and Vernon.

Vernon seemed to have gotten out of his reverie. "That's it then?" he asked harshly. "Is that the reason why you came?"

James nodded, not sure what to make of this.

Vernon sighed. "And here I am thinking you freaks have taken over London," he said, patting his stunned wife on the back. "Goodbye." He started to swing the door forwards, but James swung it back fiercely.

"Aren't you sad?" he asked Petunia. "Don't you feel any remorse? Your sister is dead."

Petunia gave a dry sniff. "What of the boy?" she asked, avoiding the question.

"Harry?" James asked. "He's alive. He's safe with me."

"Pity," Vernon muttered.

"How dare you!" James roared, unable to contain his anger. "That's my son you're talking about. Don't even think about wishing anything on him."

Vernon glowered at James for a while, knowing that if he said anything more to upset James in the slightest, there would be a wand at hand in an instant.

"Lily's funeral is on Friday," James said quietly. "I don't expect you to be there…"

"Too right we won't be there," Vernon said, Petunia now staring anywhere but at James. "I'm not attending a funeral full of freaks like you."

James simply nodded and turned around. As he walked down the driveway he heard the door slam loudly. He walked back down the street unable to stop his hands from shaking.

The next few days passed in a blur for James. He had planned to stay at Hogwarts until after the funeral, the only company he now had was Harry. Lupin had left for work and although Sirius had insisted that he would rather stay with James, he had also went back to his job. It was the day before Lily's funeral that he realised the actual importance of going into hiding. Ministry interviews were held throughout the week and the one media conference he agreed to attend was held on the Thursday.

James stood at a table, files scattered everywhere, with Dumbledore on his left and Sirius on his right. Shacklebolt and Moody were also there, at the end, standing solitary. Reporters filled the small room, all flashing cameras simultaneously, firing questions at James.

"One at a time, please," Dumbledore said sternly.

There was an awkward silence for a minute, everyone waiting for that first person to ask a question. Finally a short, red faced man amongst a throttle of reporters raised his hand.

"Where's young Harry?" he asked.

James stared at the man for a minute. That's his first question?

"Harry's with my friend at the moment," James stated, wondering how Remus was faring with a one year old by himself. "He's fine."

"Is it true what they say?" a podgy woman in the front asked snapping a photo at Sirius who was grinning widely. "About Harry?"

James swallowed. "What are they saying about Harry?" he asked carefully.

"That…that he killed You-Know-Who," the woman said tentatively.

Everyone held their breath as James pondered this question, looking for the best way to answer this question.

"A baby, or more precisely my baby, isn't powerful enough to overthrow a powerful wizard such as Voldemort."

Like a ripple, the reporters in the room flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"The where is He?" questioned an old man at the back. "It has been days since we have heard of a killing…the last was your wife's."

James winced at these harsh words, but remained stable.

"Voldemort is not dead," Dumbledore said calmly. "Merely biding his time, but he has been weakened. Harry has weakened him, as you may have guessed."

James glared angrily at Dumbledore, but Dumbledore took no notice and continued to address the crowd.

"The night Voldemort visited the Potter's he turned his wand on Harry, his intentions only too clear," Dumbledore spoke as if he were commenting on the weather, something which infuriated James. "However, the Killing curse which he performed somehow backfired. I am unsure as to why, but I am certain that Voldemort is not dead. He will return, eventually."

There was much desperate muttering and James turned to Dumbledore, wondering why he had shared so little.

"Mr. Black," a pretty lady at front blushed as she addressed Sirius.

"Yes?" Sirius asked, giving her a subtle wink which caused her to blush a deeper shade of red.

"Do you regret your decision to convince Mr. Potter to swap Secret Keepers?" she asked, he blush gone and her voice suddenly stern.

Sirius lost his seductive look and instead a more darkened air overcame him.

"I regret tricking myself to believe that Pettigrew could ever be a true friend," he said, roughly and everyone listened to every word. "I regret thinking that Remus could be the traitor and I definitely regret giving Pettigrew the damned privilege to be the Potters' Secret Keeper," he took in a deep breath and surveyed the crowd before him. "Let me ask you something," he addressed to lady who had asked the question. "Have you ever regretted anything?"

She looked baffled by this question. "Of course," she said. "Everyone has something they regret."

"Really?" Sirius asked. "What's your greatest regret? That you didn't put the right colour lipstick on when you went to a party? That you cheated on your boyfriend?" He glared at her and her confidence seemed to have slipped. "Yes, I remember having trivial regrets like that. I almost wish that I could have got some girl pregnant because that regret is so much less conscious bearing than the one I have on my head. I persuaded James and Lily to choose Peter, the traitor…the rat…and it got Lily killed. I'll never forgive myself for that. Lily was a wonderful woman and Harry's never going to experience that wonder. So don't stand there, waving around your camera and asking me condescending questions. I don't need it and I don't want it."

Everyone seemed stunned at this. Sirius felt James' hand on his shoulder and he smiled grimly.

"I don't blame you Padfoot," James whispered in his ear.

Sirius didn't answer, but continued to glare threateningly at the crowd of stunned reporters.

"Mr. Potter," a tall man broke the awkward silence and looked up at James. "What do you intend to do now?"

James paused. "Tomorrow is my wife's funeral," he stated. "For now that's all I'm thinking about."

"Don't you have any future plans?" the man asked.

"Of course I have future plans," James retorted.

"Such as?" the man prompted.

James was getting fairly annoyed by this time and was spared answering by Moody.

"Potter has agreed to go back into hiding," he said. "He will live a life as a muggle. Make it be known that anyone that tries to make contact with him or the boy without consent beforehand will suffer severe consequences. We are not taking any chances this time."

He glared at the crowd threateningly as though daring anyone to step forward and object.

"Where will you be living?" a reporter at the back called out.

"That information is enclosed," Shacklebolt said. "And it will stay enclosed."

The reporters seemed to back up at the ferocity of the two aurors.

"If You-Know-Who has died-or biding his time-then why go into hiding?" a reporter yelled out.

Dumbledore sat up in his seat and stared out at all the people before him. "Do any you of have children?" he asked.

A majority of the reporters put their hands up.

"Then you will know that a child's life is not something that needs to be toyed with," Dumbledore said, gently but firmly. "No matter if the danger has passed or not, you do not willingly place a child's life in danger. You take every precaution necessary," he gazed out over the reporters, his blue eyes twinkling. "Let me caution you, Death Eaters are still at large. Some may have been captured, but there are still many loyal out there. Do not fool yourselves in thinking that they won't make a reappearance. Voldemort will come back, aided by his followers. It is now that I warn you to take care."

There was silence in the room, every face showing the same look of pure horror. Then slowly, chatter broke out. Some words such as 'old coot' and 'utter nonsense' made itself to James' ears, while others were just rambling drivel.

"Any more questions?" Moody shouted out at the reporters gathered.

Silence overwhelmed the room again, nobody speaking.

"Alright then," Moody said. "Then-"

"Mr. Potter," a short, kind looking woman in the front called out.

"Yes?" James asked.

"Do you miss Lily?" she asked softly.

James knew all eyes were on him, waiting for an answer. But James just stared at the woman in front of him. How could they not know the answer to such a question?

"Very much," he said, in barely an audible whisper.

Author's Note: I really haven't had that much time lately to get a move on with this and even now I'm short on time, so you'll forgive me for just saying thankyou to the reviewers and not replying individually! Sorry !