The whistle of the Hogwarts Express let out a piercing shriek as it pulled into King's Cross station. James and Jerry had their faces smushed against the window of the train, looking out for their respective families. Peering out the window into the crowd, James couldn't pick out his parents amongst the sea of faces, but he knew they were there.

As the train lurched to a stop, James eagerly sprung out of his seat. He hadn't realized how much he had missed his family during their time apart. He even missed Albus and his constant whining. Scrambling to grab his things, James turned to Jerry.

"Excited to see your parents?" he asked.

"Of course," Jerry grunted under the weight of his trunk. "But I'm more excited to see my gran. I only get to see her at Christmas."

"You'll write, won't you?" James asked, hopefully.

"Of course," Jerry sounded as if the mere suggestion he wouldn't was a terrible insult. "As long as you write back."

Pulling his luggage out into the corridor, James spotted Teddy disembarking. A cold feeling washed over him. They hadn't spoken since their fight in the Hufflepuff common room. Jerry glanced at James and, seeing the expression on his friend's face, patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"You'll have a good holiday, don't worry," Jerry said.

"Thanks." Without thinking, James grabbed Jerry and hugged him tight. "I'll see you after the holidays."

Jerry grinned and stepped back, "You'd better. Bye, James!"

"Bye, Jerry!"

Pushing through the crowd, Jerry made his way off the train and began his search for his parents. Pausing to take a deep breath, James soon followed suit, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

Eventually, he saw a flash of bright red hair and eagerly sped towards it, knowing that if it wasn't his parents he found, it would at least be a Weasley. As James got closer, he saw that it was his mother, anxiously scanning the train platform. He began walking much quicker, eager to get to her.

Finally, his family caught sight of him. Teddy was already standing amongst them, showing some little trick to Albus and Lily, who were both watching with great fascination. Ginny was grinning from ear to ear, but Harry looked significantly more ill-tempered. James felt his stomach twist into knots at the sight.

Ginny immediately embraced her son, "Jamie! We've missed you so much. And you've barely written at all, although I specifically told you to stay in touch. But now that you're here, you can tell us everything."

"And you can start," Harry cut in, his voice flat, "with explaining the owl we received from Slughorn this morning."

"Not now," Ginny said, her tone suddenly cold. "And especially not here."

"How much trouble am I in?" James said dejectedly.

"Depends on how nice you are to your brother on the car ride home," Ginny said lightly. "Hurry up and grab your luggage. Your grandparents are already at the house and waiting."

James immediately perked up, "How long have they been there?"

"Since this morning," Ginny said, helping James carry his luggage. "They would've come but we needed someone to stay at the house, especially with Kreacher in one of his moods again."

"What's wrong this time?" James asked, his mind wandering to his family's temperamental House Elf.

"He's fretting about being given his freedom," Ginny sighed. "We've explained to him that he can still work for us, even if he is free, but he doesn't care. At one point he threatened to cut his head off in order to, as he puts it, 'maintain his dignity as an elf'."

"Doesn't he threaten to cut his head off every Christmas?" James asked.

"Yes," Ginny sighed. "Your Aunt Hermione's kindness towards him gets him awfully worked up."

The family arrived at their car, where James and Teddy loaded the trunk while the rest of the family piled in. At one point, James tried to catch Teddy's eye, but Teddy refused to look at him.

The car was the one piece of muggle technology the Potters owned. They had a telephone for a while, but nobody ever used it. And the only two people who called were Aunt Hermione and Grandpa Arthur. The former of the two didn't call often enough, while the latter simply didn't know how to use a telephone, so there was no point in keeping it around. But the SUV had proved essential in getting around. Particularly with four children and a pile of luggage.

James took his seat next to Albus, angrily brushing his brother's arm aside, "Don't touch me."

"You were touching me," Albus protested, squished between his older brother and younger sister.

"And now you're touching me," Lily said angrily, pushing back against both of her brothers.

"Hey!" James pushed back, and a small battle ensued.

The squabbling lasted the entire ride home, and by the time the Potter family car pulled up in front of 12 Grimmauld Place, James was starting to feel like he hadn't even been away. Clambering out of the car, he pushed his brother aside and rushed up the front steps, eager to see his grandparents.

As he entered, James was greeted by the sound of loud chatter and petty squabbling. He smiled to himself. Christmas was always James' favorite time of year. The entire family gathered in Grimmauld place to celebrate together. It was one of the only times they all were free to meet. And the best part was, because the house was so big, they could stay the entire holiday season.

Shrugging off his outerwear as he trudged along, James made his way to the kitchen. Flinging open the door, he was immediately met by the sight of his Uncle Ron desperately trying to wrestle a frying pan away from Kreacher while the rest of the family cheered them on.

"Hit him, Kreacher!" James' cousin Rose cheered delightedly.

"Rose!" Aunt Hermione angrily admonished her daughter. "Your father is trying to stop the elf from hurting himself."

Kreacher grunted, squirming to retain his currently dominant position, "Oh, if the masters could see what you're doing to poor old Kreacher. All he wants to do is punish himself for being such a terrible elf. And this awful man is ruining it."

"Let go of the pan, Kreacher," Ron bellowed, yanking as hard as he could. But it was no use, Kreacher had a strong grip.

"Kreacher!" James called out, immediately grabbing the attention of the elf. "Kreacher, let go of the pan."

Immediately, Kreacher relinquished his grasp, bowing deeply to James, "Kreacher is happy to see the young master returned. Kreacher would like the young master's permission to hit himself with the frying pan now."

"No," James said firmly. "Why don't you go sulk in your cupboard, Kreacher."

"Yes," Kreacher twisted his hands together, mumbling to himself. "Kreacher will go to his cupboard and feel sorry for himself. Kreacher thanks the young master for understanding Kreacher's grief."

And shooting one last dirty look around the room, Kreacher disappeared with a loud 'pop'.

"Thank you, Jamie," Hermione said gratefully. "I was afraid he was going to hurt himself."

"He's just going to go and bang his head against the wall of his cupboard," Albus said, joining the rest of his family in the kitchen.

"Kreacher can do what he wants," James shrugged. "He's a free elf."

"And a pest at that," Ron mumbled.

"Ron!"

"Sorry, 'mione."

James made his way over to the back of the room where his grandparents sat, talking with Uncle Charlie, "Hello!"

"Jamie!" Molly Weasley stood and warmly hugged her grandson. "You've grown since I saw you over the summer, haven't you? I hope the jumper I made for you will still fit."

"It'll fit fine," Charlie laughed, slapping James on the back. "How've you been?"

"Alright," James shrugged. "Mostly just at school."

"How awful for you," Charlie stood and stretched. "More butterbeer, Mom and Dad? No? More for me." And he sauntered off to get another drink.

"How have you been?" James asked his grandparents. "Any new muggle inventions to report on?"

Arthur Weasley immediately lit up, "You know, it's funny you should ask. We just got a new contraption of sorts. It's called a lawnmower! And the way it works is you fill it up with this stuff called gasonine. Then you pull this little string, and it makes a terrible noise that frightens all the gnomes out of your garden. Ingenious some of these little muggle gadgets!"

"What sort of noise does it make?"

"It sounds like a car trying to start after being set on fire."

"Wicked."

"Jamie!"

James suddenly found himself enveloped in a very perfumy hug, "Hello, Tante Fleur."

"Victoire and Dominique both tell me you have been a big help around Hogwarts. Always looking out for your cousins! Such a noble young man you are becoming. Just like your father!"

"Thanks," James said, struggling to disentangle himself from his aunt.

"He wants to speak to you himself now," Fleur gestured to where Harry was hovering in the entrance to the kitchen.

"Oh," James felt a wave of nausea overcome him. "I should probably go see what he wants. I'll talk to you all later."

Weaving his way through the kitchen, James passed by Hermione and his Uncle Percy, who were deeply engaged in some political debate. He ruffled Hugo's hair as he passed his young cousin, and offered a friendly wave to his Uncle George and Aunt Angelina. Then, finally reaching the kitchen doorway, he allowed himself to be ushered away by his very serious looking father.

Mr. Potter's office was cluttered with all sorts of strange souvenirs from both his time at Hogwarts and in the Ministry. A tall formal portrait of an old man in flowing purple robes and half-moon spectacles watched over the entire operation. Right now the man was sleeping, but James still eyed him warily.

He knew the man was Albus Dumbledore, a former headmaster of Hogwarts, and his brother's namesake. James wasn't in his father's office very often, but when he was, the portrait gave him a sort of uneasy feeling. Almost as if it could see right through him.

James gingerly took a seat in front of his father's heavy wooden desk, while Mr. Potter paced agitatedly around the room.

"James, I've known Slughorn a long time. The man doesn't upset easily, especially when it comes to Potters. So you can imagine it was quite a shock to me to receive a disciplinary owl from Slughorn regarding your behaviour."

"It wasn't my fault!" James protested. "It was this girl-."

"I know," Harry reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "Rebecca Sims."

"She's awful, dad," James whined. "Always trying to show-off and prove she's better than me."

"One girl's negative attitude cannot dictate your behavior!" Harry said angrily. "Your mother and I didn't raise you to be so impulsive."

"You raised me to be just like you," James protested.

"What?" Harry sounded genuinely confused.

"You've always tried to make me just like you," James said. "You had adventures and did all sorts of crazy stuff at Hogwarts! I've heard the stories."

"You shouldn't be trying to be just like me," Harry said, his anger slowly becoming concern for his son.

"Why not?" James felt his face heating up. "Why'd you contact Professor Finnigan and tell him I would be a good fit for the Gryffindor Quidditch team?"

"Dean contacted me and offered up the opportunity. I thought you'd be excited. I played Quidditch my first year and I loved it," Harry said, taking a seat next to his son.

"I thought you wanted me to be just like you," James cried out. "All I want is to be just like you!"

"James-."

"Dad, you're the coolest person ever!" You saved the whole freaking world. Why shouldn't I try to do everything that you did?"

"I made a lot of mistakes I wouldn't repeat," Harry said gently.

"I don't care!" James protested. "No matter what anyone thinks. No matter what Teddy says. You're the greatest ever!"

"Time out," Harry made a 'T' with his hands. "What's going on with Teddy?"

James turned bright red, "Oh, um, nothing I think."

"James…."

The warning tone in Harry Potter's voice caused James to follow deeply as the back of his neck heated up and his ears turned a blistering red. He was really in for it now.