When the Harrys Attack

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A/N: Thanks for the positive reviews! I'm glad to know that I still have a few readers out there! Sorry this took so long; I've been so busy all summer long. I think I know where I'm going with this…so I should update a lot more now. Once again, I'd be thankful for any comments tossed my way!

It was a velveteen night, with pinpoints of stars coldly offering little illumination in the darkness. Black robes melded in perfectly with the ebony softness of the late evening hour. All was silent, though there was a silent tension in the air. A few members of the Order of the Phoenix crouched behind various bits of shrubbery. James Potter hid in an azalea bush, the thickness of it concealing him perfectly. He glanced to his right a few feet and saw Dung peering out of his own hiding place, a bit of overgrown scrub. He grinned a little and received an oily grin in return; James didn't doubt that the criminal had been selling magic carpets only hours before. Despite his questionable lifestyle, James liked the man.

He was beginning to grow bored, but no less leery of the possible dangers of the mission. This was a popular Death Eater hangout, the location given to them by a spy for their side. So far, not one of Voldemort's supporters had appeared. It was dull work, crouching behind a bush like a dog squatting to pee. James smirked a bit, but failed to be overly amused. He wasn't antsy and impatient like Sirius (which was probably why his friend wasn't on stakeout with them), but he still didn't enjoy sitting around for hours. They had already been hiding for close to an hour. One of the hot pink blossoms on the azalea bush tickled his nose. James struggled not to sneeze violently, hurriedly covering his mouth and nose with one large palm. Dung snorted a bit from his nearby hiding place, gaining a sharp look from their supervisor. James shrugged slightly and then returned his attention to the clearing ahead, squinting from behind his glasses to catch any sign of Apparating figures.

As usual, no black-robed figures manifested from the darkness, so James returned to his thoughts. Man, this is a git of a job. If we're going to look for some Death-Eaters, let's at least have a duel and nuke some of those berks. He fingered his wand lovingly and then glanced back up at the meadow. Still nothing. Hmm…I wonder how Harry's doing right now…

…………….

"You're…like James on bloody steroids!" Sirius exclaimed, snatching his wand away from Harry for what seemed like the fifteenth time in five minutes. The black-haired baby giggled and scooted across the room from his godfather. Harry didn't really crawl at this age…but he sure did scoot. The wriggling, dragging motions were almost quicker than any crawl that a baby could manage. Sirius had admired his godson's swiftness many a time. But now, it seemed more of a hindrance than a blessing.

"No, Harry, don't TOUCH that!" Sirius called after a moment, hurrying forward. He pushed through the swinging door and was whacked soundly in the face before he could move away. Sirius yelled something particularly vulgar, clutching at his face as he continued to chase Harry down.

"Uddy 'ell!" Harry cooed innocently in mimicry of what his godfather had said only moments before. Sirius had to restrain another whole torrent of bad language upon hearing that. Lily's going to KILL me, he thought. Then, a grin spread over his dark features. I might like that.

"HARRY!" Sirius dove forward just in time to knock his godson out of the way of a falling vase. The baby promptly burst into frightened tears at the yell and then the crash (and other assorted onomatopoeia) of the porcelain hitting the floor. Sirius picked Harry up and surveyed the damage.

"Stupid. Just like James to forget to put an Unbreakable Charm on it." Sirius muttered, pulling out his wand with the arm that wasn't currently holding a six-month-old to his hip.

"Reparo!" He uttered, but Harry's little fist swung in the way, knocking his wand asunder. The curse rebounded off of the wall and hit Sirius squarely on the head. There was an odd squelching noise and Sirius noted that he felt rather…funny. He shook his head rigorously and wondered what the bloody…er, HECK (can't even curse in my thoughts around the baby, he thought darkly) had happened to him, "Well, if anything was broken in my head…" He said aloud. Harry hiccupped a bit, having calmed down from his previous spell (he rather seemed to like being held by his godfather) and this time, didn't interfere as Sirius repaired the vase.

"It's bedtime for you, you little troublemaker." Sirius said sternly, but then a grin spread over his features, "I'm so proud!" He glanced at the clock and was distressed to find out that it was only six o'clock. Sirius groaned. Maybe this wouldn't be so easy after all.

…………………..

James stifled a yawn. He was definitely more patient than Sirius, but he was no Remus. He was beginning to get impatient. He shifted behind the bush and stretched as much as coverage allowed. He was awarded an impatient look from the leader of this execution and James only grinned in response, a gleam of white teeth in the ebony night. James caught the eye-rolling. Oh, he was aware that he irritated his superiors sometimes…but they couldn't help but like him. James was young and promising and brave—he was everything that a poster-child of the cause should be. Suddenly, a popping noise startled him from his thoughts. It was the sound of Apparition. Dark cloaks melded with the darkness, the soft glow of illuminated wand-tips showing masked faces. The Death-Eaters were here.

James sat up on his heels and then froze in place, aware of his colleagues doing the same around him. James wasn't afraid—he was ready. It took a whole lot of self-control not to leap from his hiding place and start attacking the unsuspecting Death-Eaters. But this was only supposed to be a stakeout.

This is bloody boring. And here I was thinking that being in the Order would mean that I could actually fight, James thought with some impatience. After all, he and Lily had already faced Voldemort before. People were beginning to regard him and Lily as their hope epitomized. Every advertisement for the good side seemed to carry their faces. They were courageous, young and they were obviously in love. They made perfect poster-children. Young Harry only added to the image—he wore his father's face with his mother's eyes.

The problem with facing Voldemort was that James only wanted to fight him all the more. His boss was becoming concerned with the impatience that the high-strung young man was exhibiting. James remembered the talk that he had received from the Head of Auror office only the other day. "Potter, I'm glad that you're eager…but this is turning into sheer recklessness. It's getting to the point where I'm worried about sending you into covert operations. Do you understand? I hate the Dark Side just as much as you do…but you need to exercise more vigilance." Vigilance. He sounded an awful lot like that older Auror, Moody, when he said that. Speaking of Moody… James glanced into the darkness and couldn't see the scarred man nearby. But he knew that old Alastor was there somewhere. The man was bloody mad, but James liked him. He didn't have much of a problem with madness, as James possessed quite a bit of it too.

Yeah, mad not to be with Lily right now. This is a complete waste of time, James thought as the Death-Eaters assembled in a messy circle, silent as they awaited their master. Speaking of Lily…I wonder if she and Moony are having fun…

………………..

Lily smiled, but it was more in sheer politeness than anything else. She watched Arthur and Molly Weasley pass, having just finished speaking with them. This was a very formal occasion, and so she was dressed in dress robes that were a sage green color with deeper green leaf patterns woven in the sleeves and hemlines. She looked elegant, with her red hair piled atop her head and dangling earrings brushing the sides of her neck. Molly looked lovely too, in robes of a pastel orange that complimented her hair. She and Arthur were now on the dance floor. She turned back to Remus, smiling in a more genuine manner now.

She had always liked Remus, even when she had loathed James. Remus had been her fellow prefect, and though he had never exerted much control over James and Sirius, he had done as much as was possible where the two of them were concerned. She often used to remark to her friends (loudly, too, so that James could overhear if he was nearby) that Remus was much too smart to hang out with that lot of berks. Now, he was a frequent part of James and Lily's lives, along with Sirius and Peter.

"So, are you going to dance with me or not?" Lily asked with mock impudence, "You can't be any worse than James." She laughed a little at the end of this—James was a truly horrible dancer. He was graceful in the air and had quick reflexes, but when it came to being on the dance floor… Well, he had thought that when the crowd parted for him, it had been a good thing. In truth, no one wanted to get close to that maniac, in case he elbowed them or something.

"I don't think it's possible to be worse than James." Remus remarked with a faint grin, obviously recalling the same memories that she was. But he obliged Lily nonetheless, leading her out to the dance floor. Along the way, they exchanged greetings with people who they happened to pass. As they danced, though, Lily became more quiet and withdrawn.

Finally, Remus asked, "What's wrong?"

Lily hesitated and then looked up at her concerned friend, "I don't know. But something's wrong. I've…got this…feeling…"

"About?"

"I think it's James."